(2024-01-23) The Last Lordaeronian Wedding

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Author:	Saaron
Summary:	Finnegan and Tadget travel to the ruins of Lordaeron for their wedding. There, a Forsaken Dark Cleric awaits them to officiate the ceremony, with intense vows written for them.
Rating:	T for Teen

Tadget smiles at Finnegan. “Hi!”
Finnegan smirks slyly at Tadget.
Tadget blushes at Finnegan.
Finnegan says, “Well, hello there. Don't you look lovely.”
Tadget says, “Don't I though? And as usual you are an absolute snack.”
Finnegan says, “I know it's bad luck to look upon the bride before the wedding, but I just can't resist tempting fate.”
Finnegan giggles at Tadget. He extends a hand to collect her chin, admiring her features deeply.
Tadget says, “You can't have bad luck. You ARE bad luck.” She gazes into his eyes a little dreamily.
Finnegan releases her chin to take her hand, flushing faintly. "Well, I -never.- You'll have me turning beet red, won't you?"
Tadget is wearing a Razor-Blade Pendant over the lace at the throat of her wedding gown.
Finnegan says, “Would you find me completely brutish if I were to ask you to turn around so I may get the full picture?” He strokes his goatee in thought.
Tadget says, “I would indeed find you brutish, and I would enjoy it.”
Finnegan eyes her up and down quite openly, swiping up her hand to kiss her knuckle, his mustache lightly scraping against her skin.
Tadget sighs, her lashes lowering slightly as she fights the urge to swoon.
Finnegan says, “Now then. I hope you're adequately armed and prepared for something of a … ride. There's a special place I have in mind. I'm afraid no other will do.”
Tadget says, “Well I couldn't find a way to sheath daggers with this dress, but I do have a razor blade around my neck, and I can make do with that. If not, I guess you'll have to rescue me.”
Finnegan produces a high pitched hum. "Now you make me -want- to court to trouble, openly. Nevertheless, if you'll follow me." He steps to the side, offering her his arm.
Tadget takes it.
Finnegan says, “I hope you're prepared to be rather sneaky, as well.”
Tadget says, “Always!”
Finnegan whistles for his Battlestrider and offers her a hand, before he climbs atop it.
Tadget mounts up behind him.
“Off we go.” says Finnegam, and he purs his mechanical beast onwards with a pair of heel drives. Clank clank!
Finnegan falls contentedly quiet as they ride. His battlestrider is a smooth traveler, and the air around them is fresh.
Finnegan waves at a stray Dalaran Wizard and says, “Greetings!”
Tadget rests her head against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist. “You always smell so good.”
“Well, I certainly do try.” Finnegan muses with faux-humility. And we'll … need it, for where I have in mind. You'll see.”
Tadget says, “I'm intrigued.”
Finnegan says, “I solemnly swear to not to darken that fair dress with a single stain.”
Tadget says, “Aw, not even blood? Blood looks so cool on a wedding dress.”
Finnegan clarifies, “You, however, may make as much of a mess with it as you so desire.”
Tadget says, “Nice.”
Finnegan giggles at her, and says, “Ah, Lordaeron… To have seen it in its heyday. The mind boggles.” He gradually veers them off of the road for a time.
“You ever get the chance to visit before it went all Scourgey?” she asks.
Finnegan says ,”No, I'm afraid, but I've been doing all I could to track down any and all literature. Fiction, non-fiction, historical.”
Tadget says, “Mmm, I'll keep an eye out.”
Finnegan veers off of the path to stare at Fenris Isle, fixedly. He seems to be watching for … something.
Tadget waits patiently, and says, “Hey um… for the record, I'm really glad we're doing this. I used to daydream about it all the time, probably starting not long after you jumper-cabled me back to life in the Scarlet Monastery. But I never really thought it'd happen. Figured you could do way better. But I guess I became way better. So thanks for giving me a reason to become an awesome brilliant godslaying sex bomb.
Finnegan continues to fixedly stare, until a single, blue flare ignites on one of the distant islands, burning brightly before disappearing nearly as fast as it arrived.
Tadget says,”Oooh. Mysterious.”
Finnegan blinks, and smiles, returning to 'normal' again. He turns on Tadget with a smirk and says, “I've always had something of a growing fascination with you, since the same day, I must confess.”
Tadget blushes furiously.
Finnegan eyes her up and down as he speaks. "My gnomish side believes that our genetic pools are criminally compatible."
“Criminally. Indeed.” Tadget confirms.
Finnegan goes on to say, “My less logical governance has more … or rather, less, logical fascinations with what you have to offer.”
“Our offspring are going to rule Azeroth.” says Tadget.
Finnegan nods and says, “Supremely, and most importantly, your mind is what's of interest. All that is to say… I am glad, too.” He giggles.
Tadget blows him a kiss..
“For now we'll be on foot.” says Finnegan. He hops down from his mechanostrider, before he offers her a hand.
“'Kay.” says Tadget.
Finnegan holds out a hand for her. "Step into the shadows with me, won't you darling?" he asks politely, but the tone is rhetorical.
Tadget slips her little four-fingered hand into his.
Finnegan bursts out giggling once it starts to rain on them. He moves from tree to tree with Tadget in tow, trying to keep dry.
Tadget whispers, "So romantic!!"
“I'll say …” Finnegan confirms, giving her hand a squeeze
Tadget keeps hold of his hand, weaving her way around wan wildflowers whose heads are higher than hers.
Finnegan leads her into the decrepit ruins of Capitol City.
“Oooohhhhh…” Tadget exclaims.
Finnegan pauses to climb up on the ruined dais, having a look around. “Can you see it? Hear it? The pageantry? The courtiers?”
Tadget shivers delightedly.
Finnegan says, “Human structures have a tendency to be crude but so … earnest, in a way. Come now. Not much farther.”
Tadget gasps softly as they press on. “Bells…”
Finnegan walks over to lightly rasp on the bell with his knuckle. He cranes his head to look all the way up. “Can you hear them?”
Tadget cocks her head.
Finnegan smiles. "Very faintly, yes. A keen ear can catch many things happening here, things lost to time."
Tadget shivers again. Finnegan continues, “To be truthful, I've wondered what the six circles mean here.” He gestures to the grand emblem in the throne room.“No one living, nor dead, has managed to inform me.”
“Peculiar.” says Tadget. “They're asymmetrical.”
“Indeed,” says Finnegan. “Though I must say I admire the stone work. And, one last thing, before we begin, dearest…” He discreetly slides her a relatively simple golden wedding band.
Tadget blushes and kneels down briefly to trace the old bloodstain on the floor….
Finnegan notes, “The last remains of Terenas Menethil.”
Oryena comes into the room and sits on the empty throne. Her back is straight, her gaze piercing. It's as if she was always meant to be there.
Tadget blinks in surprise. "Who… who is that?"
Oryena's mouth is sewn shut, so she herself cannot answer Tadget's questions. She inclines her head at the two of them.
Tadget just stares at her, mesmerized.
The Forsaken gazes upon Tadget. Analyzing her.
"This, is a dear friend of mine. Dark Cleric Oryena Nightsea, of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows."
Finnegan gives Tadget's hand one last squeeze before stepping up to the throne, on the opposite side. "And, this is Tadget Springblade, of the 7th Legion. I pray there's no bad blood for her allegiances." He giggles.
Finnegan suddenly raises a finger and waggles it. "And I'll have no funny business either, dearest Oryena, for she is the mother of my children! Three small, squealing, pellet-sized creatures."
Oryena is not known for funny business. She raises a hand in a gesture of peace, but that gesture swiftly transitions into one that politely pushes them away without touching them, back to the center of the room, where light pierces through the roof.
Tadget obeys the gesture, still looking a bit dazed.
Finnegan smiles twirling his mustache, before he, too, obeys.
Finnegan leans close to Tadget, whispering respectfully. "I confess, I've yet to hear her voice. She's been quite generous."
Oryena gets up and walks away from the throne, her hands extended in front of her. She parts her hands on each side, indicating to them to stand a little further apart. She begins pulling the thread out of her lips.
Tadget gently tugs Finn by the hand until they are better centered on the crest of Lordaeron.
Finnegan reluctantly breaks from Tadget to obey, watching with rapt fascination as Oryena begins to 'unthread.'
Tadget stares, also.
The Forsaken begins speaking. Her voice is clear, strong, and melodious.
"Living and dead, in spirit or in flesh, we were beckoned here today by Finnegan J. Sharpgear and Tadget Springblade, who have decided to bond their souls and bodies together for life and beyond. Gathered here, we celebrate this eternal promise."
Tadget's jaw drops slightly.
Finnegan narrows his eyes and has to consciously stop from twisting his shoe with satisfaction.
He watches the upright, undead Quel'dorei priestess with unbreakable concentration.
"Though Fate has tried to keep them apart, the strength of both living and undead lies in their ability to always get back up," she says, staring at the two of them, her gaze serious, yet, somewhat affectionnate.
"The destruction of a city, the wars, the demons, and the Scourge; nothing could keep these two forces of nature from crossing each other’s paths, and from thereafter walking hand in hand."
Tadget nods, still staring almost hypnotized at the priestess.
"Today, Tadget and Finnegan will reaffirm their love for each other. They will proclaim their dedication to one another," the priestess says, extending both hands in their direction, as if to designe who she's talking about, in this room with them three.
Finnegan rocks back and forth on his heels, hands clasped behind back like a good boy. He occasionally side-eyes Tadget with a smirk before looking back to Oryena.
Tadget nods again, emphatically. Nodnodnod. In that wispy white dress, with her enormous long-lashed peridot eyes, she looks almost childlike. One might mistake her for innocent.
"For that is what marriage is – a promise to another individual, not to the divine. An oath that you will unconditionally lend your strength to your partner," Oryena keeps looking at one then the other. Calm, and steady.
"Always," Tadget whispers almost inaudibly.
Finnegan raises his chin somewhat, lips pulled into a smile. Despite his joyful demeanor, he appears respectful in the face of Oryena's face and words.
"We now turn to a banned tome, by an anonymous priest for, surprisingly, wisdom about love. ‘Musings In the Darkness’, chapter 3, page 26." Oryena takes an old, slightly rotten book from the armest of the throne.
His brows shoot way up and he tries to stand on the tips of his toes to get a better look at the tome.
Tadget eyes it with fascination.
"'What is true for romance is true of the energies ruling our world – opposites attract. For Light to shine, you need shadows to chase away, and the brighter the lights, the deeper the Shadow around them."
"Just as loving relationships thrive when the people involved complement each other harmoniously. Seline once told me it was perhaps time for us to embrace the Shadow like we would a lover, with all its flaws, but also all its truths.'"
Oryena pauses, letting them take in the full quote.
Tadget laces her four-fingered hands together in front of her, almost as though praying.
Finnegan cranes his head in a half-nod of thoughtful digestion, hands still clasped behind his back.
"Now shall be the time to make that eternal vow between the two of you. Through thick and thin, you will pledge to love and care for each other. You will do so before me, Oryena Nightsea, Dark Cleric of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows," she says, authoritatively.
"Finnegan," she continues "do you take this woman to be your wife? Do you pledge to bend Light, Shadow, and any other power required to ensure her peace? Do you swear to make kings, gods, and monsters bend the knee to you, if it means she is safe? Will you honor that promise, for as long as you shall both live and in a possible undeath?"
Finnegan trades his smirk for a smile, and lets his hands hang comfortably at his sides. He looks to Tadget, and then back to Oryena. "I do."
Tadget's lower lip trembles a little.
His gaze lingers on Tadget for a long moment.
"Tadget," Oryena turns to her, her lips pursed. "do you take this man to be your husband? Do you pledge to bend Light, Shadow, and any other power required to ensure his peace? "Do you swear to make kings, gods, and monsters bend the knee to you, if it means he is safe? Will you honor that promise, for as long as you shall both live and in a possible undeath?"
“I do. I do, I do, I do." Her eyes well up. "Forever and ever."
Oryena nods, as intensely as their pledge was. "Very well. Now repeat after me." She makes the two of them repeat the following sentences, separately, one after the other, starting with Tadget.
"Finnegan, from hereafter, I take you as my husband. I promise to cherish you, to always protect you, and to never falter. Nothing and no one will ever force my love for you to waver. To have you by side my gives me pride, and by me, you will be deified."
Tadget repeats dutifully, her eyes going a little starry on 'deified.'
Oryena turns to Finn, extending a hand at him for him to also repeat the same sentences. "Tadget, from hereafter, I take you as my wife. I promise to cherish you, to always protect you, and to never falter. Nothing and no one will ever force my love for you to waver. To have you by side my gives me pride, and by me, you will be deified."
Finnegan smirks faintly, mustache briefly quivering with satisfaction before he, too, repeats dutifully.
"Promises have been made. The time to seal them with the rings approaches. These are symbols of eternal love, perfect circles of infinity," she extends her hands to them, indicating that it's time they took the rings into their own. “They will serve as a reminder of these vows you will now pronounce to each other."
Oryena steps back, letting them have their moment in the light together.
Tadget produces the ring Finn gave her; it gleams in her palm in the sunlight that filters through the skylight of the ruined throne room.
Finnegan turns on Tadget, taking a single step closer. He reaches for her hand. "Shall we trade?" he muses, extending his hands, offering to slide hers on, first.
"I meant every word of that, you know," she says to Finn. "Every word." She lets him slide the ring on her finger, then pauses a moment before sliding his on in return.
"None of that timid 'until death' stuff the humans do. I'm yours forever."
He deftly, smoothly slides an ornate, perfectly sized ring on top of Tadget's. "Oh," he begins, tone casual, but affectionate. "I'm counting on it. I'll accept nothing short of your soul, I'm afraid." He winks, and waits for Oryena with more respectful deference.
Oryena approaches again. "Do keep holding hands for a moment. You will say something to make this exchange more… formal." She steps back to them, clearing her throat for absolutely no reason. Forsaken throats don't need to be cleared.
Finnegan seems quite alright to continue holding Tadget's hands.
She looks at Finn, nodding with insistence. ". I, Finnegan, give you, Tadget, this symbol of my love and respect. With the ring, I offer you my devotion, infinite and unbroken."
"I, Finnegan, give you, Tadget, this symbol of my love, and respect. With the ring, I offer you my devotion, infinite, and unbroken."
Tadget quivers a little when he says the word 'love,' even though he is only repeating it.
Oryena gives that same nod to Tadget. "I, Tadget, give you, Finnegan, this symbol of my love and respect. With the ring, I offer you my devotion, infinite and unbroken."
Tadget repeats the solemn words in a slightly hoarse, tearful voice. Her eyes are like green lanterns, luminous as she gazes at her adored demonic little soulmate.
Oryena nods again, proudly this time. "Tadget, Finnegan, in this throne room, you have officially proclaimed your reciprocated love. You have fought your way through life, and it led you to this point in time, to this place in space. What comes next are moments of joy and companionship – but never forget the trials and tribulations that have made you who you are. That have led you to fall for each other."
"Never."
Finnegan shakes his head, but in agreement. His hand slips over Tadget's.
Oryena takes a deep breath - again, completely unecessary, she doesn't have to breathe that much. "Now, receive my blessing."
She raises a hand cloaked in darkness, shadows growing around the two gnomes, before seeping into their being through their next breath. The dark blessing feels cold and instills fear within them. But with fear comes adrenaline. A will to fight, to survive, to strive, and a newfound strength.
Tadget shivers delightedly.
Finnegan inhales with satisfaction, eyes faintly widening at the sensations.
"Carry it forth within yourselves, and be the burning lights guiding one another in the Shadow." Oryena walks back, to sit on the throne, her shoulders raise, giver her much more presence than her bony expression naturally offers.
"By the powers I have taken, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife."
Finnegan turns, and sharply turns Tadget to face him. He slowly raises a hand to caress the side of her face.
"Finnegan," she extends a hand in his direction. "You may kiss the bride."
Tadget turns to gaze raptly into his tropical-sea eyes.
He half-pulls, half leans, to place a deep, lengthy kiss upon Tadget's lips, his eyes closing.
Tadget swoons a little, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck so she doesn't fall onto the dusty, blood-stained floor of the ruined throne room.
Finnegan seizes her waist, holding her against him, and up, to continue kissing his wife.
As they kiss, the throne room reverberates with half-audible, anguished whispers of the dead.
Finnegan has to break the kiss to laugh — not just with joy, but with dark humor and amusement at the gothic nature of it all.
Tadget grins at him wickedly.
Finnegan wipes at a tear on her cheek, before tightly clutching her hand. He turns towards Oryena, at a loss for words. Except, not really. It is Finnegan, afterall.
Oryena would laugh too, but by the time their kiss ends, she already has sewn her lips back together. She sits proudly on the throne, still, staring at them.
She inclines her head at Finnegan.
"Dearest Dark Cleric… I cannot thank you enough for your graciousness."
Tadget manages a little curtsey to the priestess, though it's clear that curtseying is not a thing she does a lot.
Finnegan bows in time as well.
Oryena curtsies to them as well. She has grown silent again, but the wrinkles around her eyes express her contentment with the wedding.
"I am in your debt… But I'm afraid my wife and I shall be out of touch, for a time."
He turns to Tadget and narrows his eyes, faintly wrinkling up his nose. "Shall we make our escape?"
Tadget grins wickedly at him… and then seems to vanish in a puff of smoke.
Oryena smirks, picking up her tome, bowing again, and leaving towards the Undercity.
Finnegan vanishes in the same cloud.