Snow Flurries | Chapter XV
Bennett | Toby
His fork poked at the dish in front of him, moving aside yet another whole dried chili (whose aroma made his mouth water and nose run) to get at a piece of chicken, which he ate between sniffles. The sheer
heat of it all was making his lips chapped, and he could almost feel his pulse beginning to pound in his forehead.
This was… this was
spicy. Not the simple, 'oh it burns a little' spicy that he was used to receiving when he asked to turn up the heat. No, not at all. This five spice chicken was
properly spicy. Pain, heartburn, pulse-pounding headache and all.
"If it's too hot for you, there's whole milk in the fridge," Bennett's current dining companion said, not even bothering to look up from the pages of her book. He considered glowering at her, but realized that what little heated gaze he could muster was nothing compared to the literal death glare she could probably throw in his direction.
And so, with no reply forthcoming, Akuta Hinako simply returned to eat another bite of her own five spice chicken, showing absolutely zero response to the sheer
spiciness that Archer had put into the dish.
It began to
gall him a little bit.
"It's just the right amount," Bennett bit back, which prompted a disbelieving eyebrow raise from Hinako. "It's actually giving me a headache," he explained, sucking in cool air between bites. "Can barely get anything that spicy in the States."
"Hmm." Hinako simply gave him an appraising look before returning to her book.
Twelve words in total. That was all she'd said between dragging him from his workshop right as he'd managed to make some progress, breaking him out of the groove he'd managed to find. Twelve words, and a metric ton of disdain.
All carried in the raising of one eyebrow.
"Why am I here?" Bennett asked, taking a bit of a risk here. And so he had more time to pick around the whole chili peppers on his plate to find the actual chicken. "You don't even need to
eat."
Hinako didn't answer immediately. She set down her chopsticks to finish her cup of tea, which she then refilled from the pot. Then she filled Bennett's, which was polite of her. What was
also polite was how she'd caught onto his reaction to the scent of cooking shellfish when getting their plates, and pointedly did
not get crawfish for either of them.
Not that Bennett was
ever going to point either of these things out aloud. That was a good way to get killed by a True Ancestor-adjacent.
"My lord husband," Hinako began, holding her freshly-refilled teacup between both hands, "wishes that I spend more time interacting with other living beings of this era. Most of them look upon me with something between curiosity and terror." She looked at him over the rim of her glasses, almost challenging him to respond.
… and much to Bennett's chagrin, he couldn't help himself.
"So your husband wanted you to socialize more, and you picked…
me," Bennett said.
Once again, there was no reply forthcoming. Instead, Hinako took another sip of her tea. This time, though, there was the slightest slurp.
Bennett sighed. Helping multi-millennia-old immortal vampiresses relearn how to socialize was decidedly
not something he'd ever expected to have to do, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, something he was wholly unequipped to deal with.
And so, it was time for a time-honored American tradition:
get pop culture to do it for you.
"I'm doing another movie night for Abby tomorrow night," he said, under Hinako's stony face. "Trying to show her some examples of a more modern era. You're welcome to join, if you want."
"I do not," she said crisply. "But my lord husband has his whims."
Ah, yes. The husband excuse.
"Eight o'clock," Bennett told her, "in the main common area. Just… be patient," he said, picking up another piece of chicken in his chopsticks. "Abby likes to ask questions, so there's probably going to be a lot of pausing."
Hinako deliberately arched a single eyebrow.
"If you're not nice to Abby, I will kick you out," he warned. "You
and Xiang Yu."
"The girl is barely human," was her only answer.
"And?" Bennett asked, arching a single eyebrow of his own.
Hinako's next sip slurped slightly louder than the last one. Or it may have just been his imagination.
Spencer
He had been told that the cafeteria tended to approach capacity right after a supply run. Even with the…
downsizing that Chaldea had suffered, there were enough hungry people to nearly fill out the room. There was actually a line, for once.
By the time he had gotten his own plate and sat down, Doctor Roman had reduced a plate overflowing with crawfish to a pile of shells and a nearly empty bowl of melted butter. Frankly, it was both enthralling and somewhat unnerving.
"Huh. Didn't know Roman was Jewish," Indy said.
Spencer blinked at the nonsequitur.
Ritsuka looked back and forth between the two. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Indy nodded at the doctor, who was now licking his thumb clean of runoff juices. "Forbidden treat," he declared in a hushed whisper.
"On the bright side," Spencer said, setting his own plate down, "I now know how to actually eat them."
Of course, now he was curious: "Okay, why are shellfish forbidden?"
"Because they aren't kosher," Indy replied absently, between bites of his bacon cheeseburger.
"No, yeah. I get that, but like…
why, though?. Or do we not know?" Spencer mumbled.
Ritsuka expectantly tilted his head closer.
"Kashrut - the rules of kosher - look kinda arbitrary," the only Jew at the table conceded. "We don't
know know - but broadly speaking, the various prohibitions fall into three categories. Assuming that the rules actually serve a secular purpose, at least."
He held up a finger. "One - to keep us apart from everyone else. It's another anti-assimilationist thing, since the Bible was written during the Diaspora."
"Two - food safety. Pork in the ancient world was riddled with parasites - there are also instructions for cleaning your kitchen and food storage on the regular in the same part of the Bible that forbids all the tasty shit."
"And three - animal welfare. Kosher also means that the animals in question were slaughtered in what was probably the most humane way for the era. And… I suppose it is a bit cruel to cook a kid in its mother's milk."
He took another bite of his burger. "Make sense?"
Ritsuka nodded and Spencer matched the bobbing of his head.
Of course, there was also the temptation to just ask Solomon himself if he knew any of the deeper reasons behind any of this, but as much as Spencer would love to learn more from a primary source, doing so would also involve outing Doctor Roman. And you don't out people without their permission. It's very rude.
He had begun eating himself, and in fact was just biting into a not-forbidden-to-him shellfish when a voice, cold, flat, laced with a touch of malice that wanted naught more than his own eternal suffering and torment…
"Spencer-san, you weren't at magic practice earlier today," Mash said from behind him, an ambush perfectly planned to take advantage of the fact that he couldn't respond.
The cheerful smile and demeanor were lies. Lies to get people to lower their guard. She was here to make him do work.
He swallowed, setting down scraps of shell, "There's no way for me to answer this without sounding disingenuous, for the record. But I needed to skip it because if I didn't my brain wouldn't have functioned anyway. I took the afternoon off to recoup mental energy."
Ritsuka's smile was brittle.
"We are already taking the next weekend off, though," the youngest Master pointed out. "For Furiko-san and Adam-san's wedding. Though I don't know how things will work if we find the next Singularity before then…."
"Look, I don't know what to tell you. Dopamine ran out-"
"-Then you can schedule an intake appointment, Spencer. Chaldea is fully stocked with every pharmaceutical you can name, and quite a few more besides."
Spencer jolted as Roman's voice came not from where'd he'd last been, but also right behind him, next to Mash.
"Please don't do that," Spencer said, shaking off the startle reflex. "And I will do that. I will set something up later over the Chaldea-net thingy."
Adam | Indy
"I'm going to say it plainly," Doctor Roman spread his gloved hands on the desk separating him from Adam and Ko. "I did not want to be the one to marry you at first."
It may have just been the hours of debate with his Ruler, but Adam thought he caught how the leader of Chaldea's words seemed to be directed more at himself than the two of them.
As for his own opinion on the matter… Roman was pretty much the most suitable candidate they had. There weren't any Jewish servants with the proper authority, and he wasn't going to be married by a priest. The fact that the man himself was Jewish - and fairly secular - was merely icing on the cake; tasty and reassuring, but not essential.
"But… things being how they are, there is unfortunately nobody better suited to the job. And so I will be doing this as true to the ancient traditions as I can, given that there are neither priests nor a minyan present."
The first part, too, resonated with Adam. In the face of extinction, of a sudden end to humanity's future, drawing on the past felt right in much the same manner as calling forth Servants had. It felt like defiance, a slap in the face of whatever had caused this whole… catastrophe to occur to begin with.
However….
"Um," Adam felt obliged to raise a finger. "Wouldn't 'all the Jews still alive' be a minyan by definition?"
"...I'm trying not to think too hard about that," the redhead admitted sheepishly. "But… I suppose you're right. A minyan is the number of Jewish people that must be present to be counted as a representative community of Israel," Roman explained helpfully to Ko, who nodded impatiently. "It's… what? Thirteen people?"
"I wanna say ten," Adam waggled his hand ambiguously. "And we're at…."
"Three," Roman sighed.
There was a brief moment of silence, as two-thirds of the world's Jewish population shuffled in their chairs awkwardly.
"... I'm tempted to quote Caterina Sforza at the siege of Forli," Ko said quietly, "but some of the voices in my head are telling me that isn't the ice-breaking masterstroke I think it is."
"...Anyway," Roman trailed off, rummaging through the scattered loose papers across his desk. "Here's a model
ketubah. Or at least, the translation to one."
A ketubah was a Jewish marriage contract - a text declaring their mutual responsibilities, obligations, and shared commitments. Signing it was the first part of a proper ceremony.
"-I have another copy somewhere…" still rummaging through his desk. Roman finally flourished another stack of stapled together papers. "Here!"
Taking the pages, Adam began to read the document; despite his wishes, he actually hadn't had the opportunity to examine one closely before. Having even this sample copy made their engagement, their marriage feel more… real. Closer than it ever had been before.
"The actual document will be written in Aramaic calligraphy," Roman explained, causing the couple to look up briefly. "Da Vinci has agreed to inscribe it. But you should agree about the clauses - add your own, remove the ones you disagree with…."
"Should we get Toby in for this?" Ko asked with a reflective frown. "He's the closest thing we have to legal counsel."
The doctor scratched his head. "I mean, I suppose? This is based off the one my, ah, wife and I had…."
"You're married?!" Adam interjected. It wasn't that Roman was a bad person, really. It's just the man seemed a bit too… befuddled. Childish. Prone to flirting with Da Vinci.
"Dear!" Ko said, scandalized.
"No, no, I understand." Doctor Roman let out a few hollow, nervous chuckles. "And I, uh, no. I'm not… not anymore."
...well, now Adam just felt like an ass.
"I'm sorry," he said, and meant it. "I didn't mean to..."
"It's alright," Roman insisted, letting out an awkward chuckle or three. "Really. It was a long time ago. I'm fine. Don't mention it. Haha."
It must have been a bad break-up, then, for that kind of insistence. Adam didn't know how to respond to that. Neither, it seemed, did Ko.
"... was there ever a standard modification for when the bride is pagan?" she asked finally. "In light of the bit about 'daughters of Israel', I mean. I know my legal standing is different, but mixed marriages happen in the Torah a fair bit, so…"
"Ah," Roman chuckled nervously. "I think the language remained the same back then. It was, ah, expected for the Israeli custom to supersede the Hittite or the Moabite or the Ammonite…."
Damn. Off the top of his head, Adam could probably name the Hittites. The others? Not a chance. Roman must have been brought up super Orthodox.
"...But, we do have other examples of ketubahs," he added. "Lots of Jews intermarry these days, so there should be something more, ah, modern."
"Aww," Ko was pouting, just a little. "But this one's so beautifully worded!"
"I mean, are you okay with the text as is?" Adam asked, pausing briefly to get his thoughts in order.
"Not that specific part. It's a legal document," she elaborated. "I don't want it to be inaccurate, I'd feel like a fraud."
"... the clauses in question bind Adam, not you," Roman noted. Adam frowned, and scanned the document again.
"...huh," he remarked. "Yeah. In the event of the dissolution of the marriage, it's on me to protect your financial world from devastation."
Ko paused, taking the contract from him. Then she began to giggle.
"And to think," she said with a grin, shaking her head, "you were all gratified to get engaged to a girl who wasn't offended by the thought of signing a prenup."
Adam couldn't help but laugh as well. "End of the world, and we came here with a literal, ah,
bedful of possessions," he chuckled. "So we're even."
Ko planted a peck on his cheek. "I'll clothe your back if you clothe mine."
Furiko
It was the third 'final fitting' in as many days. At this point Ko was pretty sure Medea was down to magic fixes for magic problems, because the physical substance of the dress hadn't changed in a week. Either that or her hobby had branched out into plus-sized modeling and she was reluctant to let a new subject go.
Everyone remembered what happened when she tried to recruit Mordred…
At least the Caster's Ahriman model was coming along nicely, and with comparatively little mess in getting the details right; one of the underrated perks of magic use, in Ko's opinion, was how easy it was to make yourself
not reek of any hobby or personal activity you'd just completed. By all rights Medea should've smelled vaguely like Nuln Oil, but-
The vent a few feet in front of and above her clattered to the floor, the inverted body of a woman with long black hair half-emerging from it shortly thereafter. "Human."
Ko had never been the 'shriek of surprise' type, not unless she was already in the middle of a coughing or laughing fit. But she was
absolutely a gasp and flinch type, and the past week of Scathach's 'surprise training sessions' had already put her on edge.
Oryou's facial expression didn't even change as she calmly pulled the spear out of Ko's hands and tossed it over her rshoulder. Well, that wasn't entirely true - her mouth moved as it crunched and swallowed… was that a foot? The foot of what? Questions for later.
"Oryou-san has caught you staring at Oryou-san before, human."
Shit. Hopefully Indy hadn't; she'd had enough trouble talking him down after the Nobu incident.
"Sorry," she blurted out instinctively.
Oryou's head tilted to one side, her hair scraping the floor as usual.
"Why are you sorry, human?" she inquired. "Oryou-san is very impressive. Do not worship Oryou-san, though," she added with a raised finger pointed floorward. "Oryou-san is not that impressive."
Aaaaaaa cute! So cute! How is she even cuter than her husband?! Protect them!
"You are planning on having a wedding." The wyrm didn't wait for an answer, merely sniffed before continuing. "Oryou has advice - don't do it. Man in robes speaks many words. Offers blessings - as if Oryou-san requires the blessings of humans. Have to wait to kiss your human until he gives permission. Foolishness."
She paused, ruby eyes staring unblinkingly. Then, bending in a fashion no human spine would ever have accommodated, she weaved herself into an upright position, and patted Ko gently on the head.
"....Party after wedding is good. Do only that." Oryou nodded in satisfaction. "Oryou-san will give you a frog, if Oryou-san has any to spare."
"I only eat chocolate frogs," Ko admitted, for lack of anything else to say.
"Oryou?" a smooth voice echoed from a nearby hallway. "Oryou? Where did you go?"
The dragon lady tsked, crossing what appeared to be two limbs of a leg-like character. Then again, perhaps not.
"Oryou-san must go," she said briskly, floating off in the direction of the voice. "My human is lost again."
"... aren't we all," Ko murmured.
Dory | Andoriol | Jacob
"Is it just me, or does Medea's main figure look a lot like Mordred?"
"I think it's supposed to be Arturia, actually." Jacob said to the younger master as they moved between the tables.
Ritsuka cringed briefly. "I wondered why it looked familiar."
Green eyes flicked over to the teen, "Bad memory?"
"She held the Grail in the first singularity we went to."
The older man frowned briefly in thought, looking back out at the tables and the various people still playing at them. Many of them crowded around a single table and cheering on a single combatant.
In theory, Bachelors Parties were simple; get the Groom drunk, take him someplace to do stupid stuff, get strippers, maybe get him laid.
"Makes sense. If I'd gotten a better look at Medea in Okeanos, I'd probably still be a little twitchy whenever I saw our version."
But this was predicated on having somewhere to take them, the groom enjoying those sorts of parties, and having available strippers.
Cu might have worked for the bachelorette party, but out of their group Indy was possibly the straightest, outside of
maybe Toby. And, exempting spontaneous arrivals of new female Servants, the only ladies available that could perform were either Chaldean staff, Mata Hari, or Scathach. None of which worked for multiple reasons, not only the fact that they were frequent coworkers.
So, instead? Something relaxing, fun and soothing.
Specifically, a grim dark future where there was only war, simulated out on a table with models.
Jacob had organized the little tournament, got anyone somewhat interested in the concept to get an army and the books and taught them how to play.
Ritsuka had been interested in the models and helped some others paint their models, but hadn't been particularly enthused about playing. So the older Master had ended up wrangling him into just spending time watching over the games and managing the food, drinks, and tempers that could arise from a game with both skill and chance when alcohol was involved.
"Wait a minute. How do you know what she looks like?" Ritsuka asked.
"Dream Cycle." And wasn't that a bit of a nightmare at times? Staring right into a face that
felt familiar and fond and frustrating, staring into green eyes as a spear was rammed into your stomach… it was a bit distant, it
was a dream after all. But the Dream Cycle did
not mess around.
"And Mordred would know his dad." The teen nodded.
"Bingo."
"Could that be why Mordred is determined to see Medea beaten?"
"Mm." Jacob hummed, looking over at the gaggle of people that had rallied behind Medea's opponent, Mordred the first among them, and arguably the most vocal. "I'm thinking it's more that losing in a game Mordred derided as 'dumb' got the prince riled up."
Medea had been, rather bluntly, trouncing everyone she played against. It was interesting to watch.
"What's the King of Knights supposed to be?" The teen gestured with a hand at the tables, "In the game?"
"One of the hero units of the Thousand Sons." Jacob said with a nod, the princess had made a team of the psyker traitor marines. And she'd been maneuvering the mixed forces with an adroitness that left the newer Master impressed. "Super powerful, provides buffs to the others, and is a rallying point for their forces."
"Oh," Ritsuka's fist slapped quietly into his other palm in realization. "That's why she's keeping 'Ar-E-Man' close to the others and using her as bait."
"She's also worth points to take down in these game types, since she's the commander of the forces."
It'd taken some effort to fill out the brackets, since basically no one knew the game on-base. He'd been able to find and wrangle a smattering of staff members to help round out the brackets. Not enough to get a clean elimination bracket, they still were doing rotating matches and eliminations, but it was workable.
Indy hadn't been knocked out yet, but he probably wasn't going to win the jury-rigged tournament. Medea was the clear favorite, but Xiang Yu had also been cleaning up, even if his first round had basically been a by against Oryou's single-model army.
The princess of Colchis had been crushing all competition, and said competition had started backseat commandering.
"No-!" The cries of frustration came up from the collective table as the dice seemed to come up badly for the 'coalition'. Medea managed to look quite smug without looking smug, an impressive feat.
"Blow up!" Boudica was shouting at her Rhino. "Why couldn't you just blow up, damn you!"
"You've still got the Command Points to reroll!" The blonde prince insisted, leaning against the table beside her, the first victim of Medea's warpath. The Knight of Betrayal had been indulging Jacob's request to play the game but hadn't been heavily into it… until the very first game had turned into an absolute blowout.
"I'm down to my last five!" The red-headed Rider stared at the blob of cultists surrounding the not-Artoria, the front bumper of her transport full of battle-hungry Berzerkers a scant six inches away.
"All your remaining melee units are in that Rhino," Ryouma pointed out. He'd been Medea's second victim - though he'd been far closer to victory until his tank formations had evaporated under a barrage of psychic smites. "Why are you trying to blow it up?"
"If I blow it up," Boudica explained, "then all my units disembark during the shooting phase - so I can charge them into the cultists this turn, vaporize them, and then have them consolidate around Ahriman and fight again." She winced. "But I need to roll a one on two dice."
"But the odds of that are-"
"Never tell me the odds!" Boudica declared, and struck a pose. "I didn't ask them at Camulodunum and I won't ask them now!"
"Yeah! Stab the bastard!" Mordred agreed with a fist pump, "Without F-Arr-iman, her entire army falls apart! No risk, no reward!"
Oh, that was probably going to go badly.
The other tables weren't quite as dynamic and dramatic as that one, but things were still moving apace, and people were enjoying themselves. That said…
Jacob tapped his communicator to a prepared channel. "Oryou's been going through the bicorn horn pretty quick, probably should get another one prepared."
Emiya sighed back over the link. "Those aren't easy to come by, you know?"
"I figured. But unless you've got frogs?"
"I'll see what I can do," the red-cloaked Servant said. "Anything else?"
"Nah, just another round of finger food and drinks." As Boudica conceded defeat, Jacob looked at the number of the competitors crowded around one of the two remaining ongoing games. Through the small group in the equally small space, Ritsuka had broken off from the spectators to approach the pair. "Probably the last round though."
"Alright, I'll pass it along," the infamous GARcher replied and ended the call.
Indy seemed to be having a good time - Roman too, even as the largest of his five (now down to two) mecha was removed from the board.
For all that Jacob had wanted the chance to play, he was happy with how the party had been turning out so far.
And then the door got kicked open.
"IT IS I! PREPARE TO BE ANNIHILATED ON YOUR HOME TURF, INTERLOPER!" Oda Nobunaga roared in girlish glee. "ALL WHO STAND BEFORE ME SHALL BE DESTROYED!"
"Hi, Nobu!" Spencer piped up with a wave.
"Oh god no." Jacob could only look on in horror, the initial spike of terror lost when he saw the oversized box carried over the pint-sized Servant's shoulder.
The threat level dropped from 'imminent murder' to 'plausible embarassment'. Which was acceptable, and likely even better provided appropriate recordings. There was a slight pause as Servants hastily put away their various weapons and Noble Phantasms - swords, spears, runes, and all sundry manner of armament and foci dematerialized as quickly as they'd emerged.
Indy cackled, and downed the last of his whisky. Quietly, Fionn replaced the empty tumbler with an identical, certainly full one.
Just as he'd been doing the entire tournament.
"O-okay," the slightly swaying man of the hour guffawed. "If you wanna play me for-"
"-You have an eighty-seven percent chance of obtaining third place," Xiang Yu helpfully supplied.
Indy pointed at the general in acknowledgement. "-third place, yeah. That. Wait," he corrected himself with a little frown, before his expression turned back to amusement. "She came in late. So she's disqualified by default. Ha!"
"What?!" Nobu gaped for a moment after the exclamation. "Are you serious? The bronze medal? What the hell does she
see in you?"
"Uh," Indy attempted to drawl, but ended up hiccuping slightly. "Well, according to her my dick is-."
"No no I'm not hearing this-!"
"-So I got that goin' for me."
Roman coughed politely. "I'm happy to forfeit this match-"
"-Ninety-three percent-"
"-if it'll make everything easier."
Jacob handed the large cup of sake he'd retrieved to the warlord. "May I see your army list to double check the points costs? Want to keep it fair and all that."
Spencer peeked out around his friend's shoulder. "So… where's 'Katsu?"
The shortstack Servant snatched the alcohol and tossed it back. "I don't know!" she burped. "I don't have a bell on him, he's not a cat!"
What followed was the final battle of the evening. All the other games had ended up getting stopped or resolving before the two could set up their units. Sadly, Jacob wasn't able to provide sufficient libations to inebriate the rogue Servant, but he made a game attempt at it.
Indy started the battle with nearly half of his dull green painted Space Marines off the board: full squads of big chunky Centurions. Three-man groups of Eliminator snipers across the midfield, a fearsome Leviathan Dreadnought, and more.
Jacob wasn't as familiar with the Tau unit names, but he knew a castle when he saw it. Nobu had set up an entire layered set of their ranged units, supports, and heavy ordinance on top of one of the major objectives, with a smaller unit of mobile battlesuits clearly for running interference.
"Now I want a nice clean game," Medea stated, even as she loomed behind the Japanese warlord. The unspoken threat seemingly ignored, though her efforts allowed the other Masters to record the game.
"I will destroy you," Nobu hissed. "None may oppose me and live!"
"Well, I'm going first, so…"
It wasn't a crushing defeat, there were moments when the momentum swung slightly in the other direction. But the victory was solid and pretty inarguable.
"Hahaha!" Nobu laughed, standing on the table as the dice rolled up a 4, denoting the end of the game, with her noticeably ahead on points. Indy had more models left on the board, but that hadn't helped him hold or maintain objectives.
Indy was good. He wasn't "Demon King of the Sixth Heaven" good.
"...Damn," Indy nodded, accepting another drink from Fionn. "Well, geegeez."
Nobu's train of thought clearly hit a cow. Red eyes scowled in disbelief at Indy for several moments before demanding at significant decibels,
"Why aren't you mad?!"
"'Cause it'was'a good game.'' He gave the woman a dopey smile. "I had fun. Aaaaand-I'm gettin' married in'tha mornin'~"
"ONORE–!"
"Ye'can't defeat me, Nobu!" Indy continued to cackle. "Victory - TRUE VICTORY! - is mine! Miiiine mine mine mine miiiiine~"
Furiko
She had never wanted an outdoor ceremony. But in her estimation, it didn't really count if she was still indoors with programmable weather, so this was fine. The forests of the Loire provided plenty of shade, so they didn't even need a tent.
Or at least, the guests didn't. Medea had insisted on preserving the mystery surrounding the gown as long as possible and had corralled her into an incongruously cosmopolitan-looking bridal suite, crammed inside a purple pavilion on the edge of the ceremony site.
"If you're nervous," the Princess of Colchis said around the bobby pin between her teeth as she worked, "find someone in the crowd you trust. Their smile will give you courage."
"Usually in a Western ceremony the bride and groom look at each other during the walk down the aisle," Ko pointed out, turning on the pedestal she was standing on to look at her stylist.
"You're fortunate to have that option," Medea declared flatly, smoothing out the ends of one of Ko's braids with some kind of ancient Black Sea pomade. "In the civilized world brides go to their husbands veiled. You wouldn't even see his face clearly until you were close enough to take his hand."
"I guess so, eh?" Ko reflected, more than used to ignoring the constant sniping by now. She peered at herself in the ring-lit mirror. "Yeah, you were right, this is the right shade of red. I'm sorry I was so stubborn about it."
"I don't suppose I could convince you to be less stubborn about your shoes?"
"It's a ballgown!" the bride protested. "No one's going to see them until the Hora anyway. Besides, did you want me to walk through the dirt in your nice fancy slippers?"
Medea's only reply was an expertly-twirled double-prong comb diving into the back of Ko's hair. Once ensconced, it immediately flipped
something up and around, and turned her coiffure from a half-dozen hanging whips into an elegant coil, one or two plaits falling loose purely for sex appeal.
"Perfect!" Ko declared, partly because it was, and partly because she didn't want to spend any more time around the other woman than necessary. "Thank you again for going above and beyond like this-"
"You are an unusual bride," Medea interrupted, standing back as though examining her work.
"Yeah," Ko agreed. "I'm not really a usual anything else, either-"
"You are old."
Ko raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror. "You really wanna get into this with
that as your opener, Colchis?" she asked. She was almost too amused to be offended. "On the actual wedding day?"
"You have known men before your husband," Medea continued matter-of-factly, as though she hadn't spoken. "Perhaps women, as well. You have yet to demonstrate a single worthy feminine accomplishment. You bring no dowry with you into your marriage, and your social graces are barely what one might accept from a provincial boy newly arrived in the city."
Ko said nothing, waiting for her to get to the point.
She has to know I've already heard this from half my ancestors. What the hell is her angle?
She also knows most of your training involves blocking them out, her next thought chided.
That or she's decided you not reacting to passive-aggression means you're too stupid to know when you've been insulted unless it's spelled out for you. Could be another one of those.
"That man loves you, in spite of all of this," the older woman said, with the calm acceptance of one who has made peace with the fact that men can't be trusted to make these decisions on their own and yet will continue to do so.
Then, without a change in tone, expression, or even in aura, she stared hard into Ko's eyes, and said simply, "If you are unfaithful to him, I will know."
Just because no one ever liked you
enough to want to take you off Jason's greasy hands-!
Ko took a deep breath, and let it go. Indy might be the first male friend Medea had ever had, and she'd just indirectly admitted to having a small reference pool when it came to what a marriage could be. This was her wedding, not Medea's, and she had a right to be happy, no matter what anyone said to her today.
"... I notice," she said finally, "that you waited until my makeup was done to say this, knowing that it would dissuade me from doing anything to muss it. Up to and including beating the shit out of your prissy yandere ass."
Medea smiled serenely. "So long as we understand each other."
"I imagine we do," Ko said flatly. "Survivors know one another on sight."
The smile didn't disappear, but it did thin a bit.
=
The dress sent a tiny ripple through the assembled company when she rounded the corner. At least, she hoped it was the dress; Fionn had managed to get his way on the hairstyle front, so now her head was haloed in lavender. For all she knew she looked like a recolour of the Statue of Liberty.
No, she was being paranoid. The gown wasn't Greek-shaped, it was more like the 1860s as imagined by 1950s costume designers eager to reveal a bit of cleavage; Scarlett O'Hara by way of Arcueid Brunestud. The red silk was brighter than she would've picked, considering her pale complexion, but she had to admit it made a much bigger impression against the trees and the filtered but still-bright sunlight. She looked good. Medea wouldn't have done a shoddy job knowing everyone would see it.
She had to hold onto that, because as a control freak the only thing she hated more than not being the centre of attention when she'd prepared to be was being the centre of attention for the wrong reasons. Nothing short of her wedding would've persuaded her to wear mascara again, and now that it was on she'd be apoplectic if it had gone to waste. Oryou was right, this whole thing was bullshit-
And that was when she saw him, standing under the chuppah.
The black eye he'd come back to their room with last night had just about healed (likely with some magical assistance from his new Colchisian auntie). He'd refused to explain where it had come from at the time, preferring to drunkenly hang off her and cheerfully mumble 'dis mine' over and over.
Now his lips were pursed in surprise, and even though she couldn't hear him, she knew he'd just uttered a delighted 'ooh!' He beamed infectiously up the aisle at her, his dark blue morning suit shimmering slightly at the lapels as he gave her a tiny wave. He wore his tallis almost like a superhero cape, its blue stripes such a perfect complement to the jacket beneath it that there was no way he'd arranged that himself.
Wait is he wearing a cravat? How did she get him into a cravat?! Hell, I might have to forgive her.
Beside him stood Dory, Toby and Ritsuka (
who told this child he was allowed to go jacketless and roll his sleeves up how dare he-), and across stood Mash and Spencer - whose cumberbund, unless she was very much mistaken, was made from one of the looted purple silk nightgowns they'd stolen from Nero's palace. Her maid of honour's wave was a lot less subtle than her future husband's, including as it did a pat at his breast pocket, indicating that against all odds, he'd managed to score and was officially holding. Excellent. Forecast for the reception had just gone from good to great.
The guests were mostly Servants - half the staff were on duty and would only be swinging by for the reception - and she was surprised at how genuinely interested most of them seemed to be. Xiang Yu and Akuta were in the back row away from everyone else, of course, but d'Eon and Jeanne were both standing on their chairs to get a better look over the heads of some of the taller guests.
Jeanne d'Arc, delighted to be at a Jewish wedding. Never change, Japan.
Cu was not merely smiling at her with seemingly genuine fondness from his seat on the aisle (speaking of people who were daring to do things…), he'd actually worn a suit. And
dress shoes. Wild.
Beside him sat Scathach, and beside her was Musashi, whom shishou'd been sleeping with rather a lot lately. A marked upgrade from Achilles, if Ko did say so herself. Cu apparently agreed, given the looks he kept sneaking at the sword saint.
The harp music accompanying her down the aisle had been a compromise. Modern audio equipment was far more work to simulate than a musical instrument, and no one on base played her first choice, the cello. Harpists they had in spades - more than planned, she realized suddenly. Ada had volunteered, but the first harp she actually saw was in the hands of a tiny redheaded boy she'd only met in passing while waiting on the simulator. Ada was second, Fionn (of course) was third, and the fourth was Boudica. Together they harmonized in a tune that was unfamiliar but pretty, and she was forced to admit the soft echo they made through the wood was every bit as romantic as a cello would have been.
When she finally arrived at Indy's side, she popped up on tiptoe (was he wearing lifts? no, the ground was uneven) and gave him a peck on the cheek that netted her a tiny whispered 'yay!' He was freshly-shaven, his cologne smelling of cedar and sea salt, and his glasses were smudgeless for once, all the better to see his big beautiful eyes and silky lashes. His hair was far too neatly combed for her taste, but she could fix that during the reception - oh, he had a yarmulke on, of course.
"Meow," he mewed playfully.
"Mraow," she mewed back.
"Cringe," Jeanne Alter muttered loud enough to be heard from her seat next to her sister.
Dr Roman coughed, as though reminding the assembly of his existence, and they turned to face him.
"Thank you all for coming here, to watch our bride and groom stand under the chuppah in the tradition of our people. It is customary to start by having the bride circle the groom seven times, representing the building of a wall of love around the couple's relationship…."
From there, it was such smooth sailing that the entire ceremony might just as well have been a wipe in a movie, from one scene to the next. A tiny part of her that was perpetually thirteen had half-hoped Nobunaga would interrupt, but she also knew it was unlikely; Medea had made herself the centre of all security operations for the event. Nobu was demigod-bane, but she wasn't demigod-
proof. And even if she'd gotten past the wards, Fionn had appointed himself Indy's Best Man in the more traditional sense. In terms of raw output, Nobu might have the advantage of the Lancer, but she was no match for him in sheer weaselly sneakiness.
The worst thing that had happened so far had been Smith, who'd apparently gotten lost on the way to the simulator and had to sneak in halfway through. Poorly.
"-is not something I'd ever thought I'd be doing," Roman was saying. "But this is, ah, a very unusual time. Certainly, this isn't a duty I thought would ever fall upon me here. But despite the bizarre circumstances that we find ourselves in, let us all know that today is a day of joy."
Bright green eyes that never stopped surprising her with their gentleness gazed first into hers, then those of her intended. "Furiko. Adam. It's been less than two months since the two of you arrived at Chaldea - and in that short period of time, I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the love the two of you bear for each other has been a source of inspiration in these dark times."
... did he just sneak a Monty Python reference into my wedding ceremony? Hot damn, I knew I picked the right officiant.
Roman's hands swept towards the crowd, gesturing expansively (expansively enough that Dory actually had to surreptitiously lean away to avoid getting poked in the eye by the erstwhile king's outstretched fingers).
"There are so many great heroes and legends assembled here - maybe more than in any wedding that I can remember reading about. It is an honour to play a small part in this ceremony - perhaps too much of one."
A small smile touched Roman's lips, a faint and far-away look in his eyes. "But what is the use of us, the children of men, if we do not exercise kindness and love upon Earth?"
And without further ado, he abruptly broke into song.
Intellectually, Ko'd known there wasn't anyone around qualified to be cantor ('you'll pray for a quick death' were Toby's exact words when she asked him), but she hadn't expected the good doctor's solution to be DIY. He had a nice voice, actually; not trained, of course, but a very sweet tenor.
She snuck a glance at Mash Kyrielight, saviour of the world in a pale pink sun dress, smiling proudly at her dad as she squinted in the afternoon sun.
That was when Ko decided. The man who had been Solomon was going to live.
Not knowing more than about five words of Hebrew, ancient or modern, Ko felt her eyes slide back over to Indy. He looked nervous, mostly because he was visibly trying not to tap his foot in excitement. She knew he didn't like looking younger than he was (it was half the reason his taste in suits was so grandpa-ish), but she'd be damned if it didn't make him heart-flutteringly handsome when he was happy. She slipped her hand into his, and stroked his knuckles with her thumb-
A silver cup of wine was being waggled in front of her.
For a fraction of a second, it was on the tip of her tongue to instinctively respond that she didn't really drink, before she remembered where she was and what was actually going on. Lifting the cup in toast to Indy and Roman in turn, she took a large sip, and tried not to make a face as she swallowed. She passed the cup to Indy, who raised it to his lips, staining them a dark red as he exhaled.
It was lucky she'd already married him, or she might have had to kidnap him right then and there.
Roman took a small cloth bag from his little table and set it down in front of Indy. With a shark-like grin, her new husband raised his foot… and without warning, grabbed her by the hand.
"Together?" he asked, tilting his head playfully.
"I-if you want," she stammered.
Aaaaa kitten man!
"Three, two-"
One after another, there were a pair of stomps and a pair of crunches.
"Mazel Tov!" Roman, Mash, and Toby cried out - quickly followed by Spence, Dory, and everyone else.
Everyone was clapping.
Everyone was clapping
for them.
"Strongly tempted to rip that off you once we're-" Indy was murmuring, before-
"And now," Roman began hastily, "it is tradition for our new bride and groom to step aside and spend a moment in private together-"
"Yeah, yeah!" Achilles, now officially the Worst Greek Ever, interrupted. "Now can we get the party started alread-ow! Who threw that?"
Fionn looked conspicuously innocent, at least to Ko's eyes. Not the type of stoning she'd had in mind for the post-wedding, but she'd allow it.
"-ryou, wait-!"
"-ou-san agrees!" Oryou declared, and pressed a button on the boombox Ryouma was carrying (had he had that the entire time?). "
Let the party begin!"
There was, Ko just noticed, a medium-sized crate by the dragon lady's feet. With a great toothy smile, the Japanese Servant kicked it neatly into her hands, and with a single flex of her seemingly noodly arms, tore the thing in half.
Frogs.
The crate had been jam-packed full of frogs.
Chaos, of course, ensued.
Various staff members (and one or two servants, it sounded like) shrieked in surprise.
"Who programmed the frogs?!"
"Get! them! off! me!"
"Twenty dollars to whoever licks one!" Ada Lovelace shouted.
"You're on!"
"Shut down the program! Shut it down! Shut it all down!"
Someone pressed a button or activated an override, or something, because abruptly the forest, and to the consternation of some of their guests, the chairs, vanished into the almost holodeck-like lines of Chaldea's simulator room.
And yet, the frogs remained.
Even as Ritsuka and Mash attempted to rally the staff and Servants, Roman had now hidden himself futilely under the table. Thankfully, Emiya and shishou were among the quickest to act - thrown short swords and precise spear jabs were picking off lone amphibians while herding most of the others towards a corner.
With one notable exception, that is.
"...
Fantastic," Ozymandias, King of Kings, said drily as Abby ran off giggling, a particularly large and warty specimen perched on top of his head. "This again."
