(2025-06-14) Weddings and Wars
Details
Author: inkie
Summary: Deathwing is dead, and it's time to plan a summer wedding! Siamus, it turns out, is a very bad prophet.
Rating: T for Teen
Lena Shine Admiral Siamus Fallon

It's a peaceful day at Fallon House. With Deathwing's death, there's no more reason to fear tidal waves and earthquakes. Lena Coit, in a casual blue sundress, walks almost idly down the second floor hallway, humming an upbeat sea shanty under her breath.

Her intended destination becomes clear as she pauses outside Siamus's study, and then raps with her knuckles against the doorframe.

"Come," says Siamus's voice from within.

He is seated at his desk in his shirtsleeves with a ledger open before him; a pen rests atop the pages of an open notebook beside it. Siamus appears to be reviewing both, although what he is actually doing at the moment is lounging back in his desk chair and absently folding an origami boat while he reads.

The casement windows behind the desk are open to sunshine and the salt summer breeze. A stack of papers atop the low map-cupboard beneath the window is being weighted by a half-full teacup, which may or may not have been a deliberate choice.

Lena moves into the study, smiling as she takes in Siamus and his origami boat.

"Hope I'm not interrupting?" Lena asks, but the words are more polite noises than actual concern.

"I am, as ye can see, extremely busy," Siamus says sternly, and then glances up to smile at her. He sets the origami boat atop his notebook and sits up. "What can I do for ye, Lena?"

Lena laughs, and steps over to take a seat in front of his desk.

"I was just thinking — Shine and I were thinking — now Deathwing's dead might be a good time to start the wedding planning in earnest," Lena pauses, looking at him searchingly. "If you're interested?"

Siamus raises a brow at her. "If I'm interested? I can think of very few things that would interest me more at the moment than interfering in Shine's wedding, and those I can think of aren't fit for discussion in mixed company. D'ye want a drink? Shall I send for tea?"

"Well, then, I suppose we shouldn't discuss them," Lena says with an innocent smile. "Tea could be lovely, if you'd like more as well." She nods towards the half-empty teacup. "Shine and I were thinking August 17th, for a date, if that might be alright for me to take some time away from fleet."

Siamus cranes over his shoulder toward the teacup Lena indicates and starts to rise to his feet, then pauses and sits again. "August 17th? He picked that date, did he?"

"Well, I suggested August, and then he suggested…" Lena trails off, and then says, "There something I should know about that day in particular?"

Siamus flashes her a smile and gets to his feet for the teacup. "It's an auspicious day, ye might say. Well, I might say."

He goes around his desk to the door, opens it, and leans out. Moirin appears as if by magic, and he offers her the half-full cup of cold tea. "Can we get fresh?" he asks.

Moirin curtsies and smiles and whisks the old teacup away.

Siamus returns to his desk to drop back into his chair. He laces his hands behind his head. "It's my birthday," he tells Lena. "That is — August the 17th is. Not today."

"Oh!" Lena exclaims. "I ought to have remembered. Is that alright? We could always do it another day, not to overshadow other celebrations."

Siamus smiles warmly at her. "There's no earthly reason ye should have remembered it. I've only celebrated it at all since getting married, because Her Grace is generous like that.

"When we were younger Shine was forever trying to make it an occasion, because his family does birthdays. At most, we usually ended up out for a drink." His smile tilts up at one side. "Now he'll have his summer wedding and make a celebration on the date, one way if not the other."

"Well, as long as it's not a problem — as it happens your birthday is just between his and mine," Lena says, her own smile an answer to his. "I wanted to ask, also, if you'd had a chance to think through officiating for us? Given how things went, up in the Highlands, I sort of thought you might've decided."

"Ah." Siamus drops his hands to shift forward at his desk again. He moves the origami boat from the notebook to the ledger, adjusting it to some precise, imaginary standard. "You're right. And I'd like to do it. I'll need to… spend some time wi'the sea, and talk with Eli. I wouldn't want Her not to answer for your wedding. But I'll do my best before then to ensure She'll be on speaking terms." He glances up. His smile is rueful.

There is a faint tap at the door, and then Catrin wheels in the tea-trolley. Today in addition to tea it includes little scones of peach and crystallized ginger, split and filled with peach jam and clotted cream, and some little sandwich triangles of shrimp salad with dill and paper-thin cucumber slices.

"Thank ye, Catrin, that's all," Siamus tells her, and gets up to pour the tea himself as the maid curtsies herself out.

"I trust you to know," Lena says, with a small nod, as Siamus busies himself with the tea. "If we're to do that way, is there anything I ought to know for the ceremony? Anything I'm supposed to do for the Tidemother?"

"Ye'll want a sacrifice." Siamus offers Lena a cup of tea. The trolley is close enough beside her that she can doctor it with cream and sugar herself, and select food. "Has he given ye gifts? That is — I assume he's given ye gifts."

Lena accepts the cup of tea, and doesn't add any cream or sugar — black tea.

"Shine, you mean?" Lena clarifies and nods. "Am I meant to sacrifice something he's given me? Is he meant to sacrifice something from me?"

Siamus carries his own tea around to his side of the desk to settle in his chair again. "Ye sacrifice something he's given to you. If he hasn't given ye anything, or he hasn't given ye anything ye feel like parting with, he can give ye something specific to the purpose before the wedding. Ye must carry or wear it, and he'll be the one to sacrifice it. I gave Lady Fallon, ah — " He gestures vaguely beside his ear. It looks a little bit like the gesture people sometimes use to mean bonkers.

"Net," is the word he arrives at. "For her hair. Woven with pearls. Cut it off in the ceremony and cast it to the waters. It'll be something like that. Jewelry's typical."

"Maybe we can arrange something new, for the wedding," Lena says, with a reflexive gesture toward her forearm. It's very similar to the gesture she used to make in the past, in memory of pain, but transformed now into the memory of a gift. "Does he need something for me to take and sacrifice as well, or is it just the one?"

"It's just the one," Siamus says. "He gave it to ye, now ye both give it on to Her for thanks. Or, some people suggest, perhaps She's a jealous lady and the gentleman must take back and give Her a token he'd given his bride before, so She doesn't feel outshone." His dry tone and the gleam in his gaze make ambiguous whether this is in fact a mere folk belief or whether it is the official meaning and Siamus thinks it's funny as hell.

"I wouldn't want to make Her feel jealous, for certain sure," Lena says, her smile turning a touch playful. Then, her expression growing more serious, she adds, "Do you think She'll have noticed, that he's not been far out to sea in… fair while?"

Siamus drinks some tea and then sets it aside on his desk. He picks up another sheet of paper absently and begins folding it in crisp turns. It was not previously apparent with the boat, but as he's starting this one fresh, it is clear that he is using some sort of Official Memorandum written on Admiralty letterhead for origami purposes. "He's been out to sea, though, hasn't he?" he says, and glances up at Lena with a small, conspiratorial smile. "Not well out, not aboard a ship, but I'd say he's paid his proper respects lately. Taught a lass to sail, right off the coast here."

With an air of flourish — ta da! — he sets an origami whale beside the origami boat.

"He did," Lena says, looking at the boat and whale with a warmth in her smile. "And well, I hope, or you'd have told me otherwise. He was on one of those airships, you know, following Deathwing —" Lena pauses, "Have we orders of some sort, from the Admiralty, for the Blanche?"

Siamus's expression changes. He sits up and collects both pieces of origami to set them aside at one edge of the desk as if in abrupt disapproval of such frivolity. "For the Blanche, no. We've been asked to send ships to reinforce Northwatch, and we've done it — the Aconite and Achillea are there now, and I have Swift and Storm's Daughter at the ready if needed, once we have updated reports from Admiral Aubrey and Captains Breen and Doulton."

He takes up his tea again and sits back. "There's been some muttering around the offices about sending ships to Theramore. Precautionary, you understand." He has a sip of tea. "The Grand Admiral has agreed there will be no Fallon ships dispatched to Theramore, if it comes to that."

Lena looks at him mildly, takes a sip of tea, and says, "I take it there's been more Horde activity near the coast, then. I suppose I'll have my hands full with wedding things for the next few months, but of course if we're needed — at Northwatch, that is — I'll be here and ready."

"Aye," says Siamus. "Good. There's been some trouble at Northwatch and along the coast, but here's hoping we've run them off for now. A few more Alliance ships to blockade their harbor and reinforce their troops should be warning enough to the orcs. If they start looking stubborn, we've got more, and more coming out of the yards in Stormwind and Menethil as well as Fallon Harbor in the next weeks."

This update doesn't seem to cheer him, however, and he sits up again to put his teacup down and take up the origami boat. He turns it absently in his fingers, adjusting a fold here and there.

After a moment he says, "If I'd brought over a half-dozen more Tirasian shipwrights with me…. At the Addington yards in Stormsong they'd be launching them twice as fast and better-built besides." He sets the paper boat down in front of him and broods at it.

"We make do with the world as it is, not as we'd have wished it," Lena says with a shrug. "Are there any Gilnean shipwrights might be put to tasks? Maybe some who might've been overlooked, on account of the curse? Or, well, I imagine you'll have them snapped up already — I'm just thinking aloud."

"I've brought on two," Siamus says, settling back again. "I can scour for more, I suppose. It's… not quite the same. But better than Stormwind, and leagues better than none. Miss Reeve might know of a few, though I'd hope if they're any quality they'd have been snapped up by now. The kingdom's need ought to outweigh any prejudice." He broods again and then gives a faint, sour smile. "But when has it ever?"

He glances up from the boat and studies Lena. "Ye think it's unjust. For me to decline involvement at Theramore."

"I didn't say anything one way or another," Lena says carefully, which is not exactly an answer. "I think if one's going to war alongside somebody, it ought to be somebody they trust. For that matter, they're a port kingdom. They ought to have their own ships, and if they haven't, that's another problem."

Siamus smiles faintly. He knows about non-answers. "Aye. And they've Lady Jaina's ties to the orcs to insulate 'em, I expect. I blockaded Theramore once for that woman, and ye know how we were repaid for it. If the navy means to risk spending our ships again in Theramore's service, let 'em. They won't be my ships. As it stands, I'd have mutiny on my hands if I tried to send half these men back there."

"I don't have fond memories of the place, myself," Lena says with a nod. "But I hope they can hold out on their own. We do need to keep our hold for the Alliance on the eastern coast, or the kaldorei will be all on their own out there."

Siamus nods gravely back at her. "Aye, indeed. But we have Northwatch and Fort Triumph and others in the Barrens. And if the orcs do turn on Lady Jaina, I'm sure His Majesty won't hesitate to deliver Alliance aid. Just… not our aid."

"Yes, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Lena says, taking a sip of her tea. "We're in a much better position inland now than we were before, so that's in our favor."

"Northwatch has been holding the orcs off for a while now. They know what they're about. Fort Triumph is a lot of seasoned men. Unless Hellscream brings down the whole might of the Horde on us, I don't see we can't run them off again." Siamus shrugs. "And if it is to be a coastal war in aid of Northwatch or the kal'dorei, we've two new Fallon ships finishing in dry dock that should launch before the end of July."

He makes a rueful face and smiles at Lena, his chin tipped down, his gaze bright. "But this is no talk for your wedding plans. At any rate, the main thing is no, ye won't be needed for the Blanche any time in the next months, barring extremity."

Lena has her professional face on during his earlier words, serious and intent, but it relaxes into a smile at the last. "That's good to know, then. Gives us some time to get the planning settled. It shouldn't be as difficult as some weddings — I don't expect we'll have many people from outside Fallon House."

"Your Cobalt friends?" Siamus asks.

"I'd like May and Jonas to be there, as well as Ben and Ismene," Lena says, thinking. "Rae, obviously, but she's here at Fallon House. Maybe a few others? I don't want anything too big, and I don't think Shine does either."

Siamus nods. "Whomever ye please, obviously. Whomever yourself and Raff please." He pauses. "Will the Hazans… I realize they're a priest and a paladin of the Light. Will they… be uncomfortable wi'the ceremony?"

"I hadn't thought on that," Lena says, frowning slightly. "It's still a wedding, whatever the tradition, isn't it? Surely the how isn't the important part, for a guest. I could ask him, though, in advance. Just to make sure."

Siamus nods again mildly. "I wouldn't like to contribute to further… discomfort for the man. I'll be very glad to see all your friends stand with ye."

"It'll be a good day," Lena says, smiling with a touch of wistfulness. "Only friends. I suppose I'll need to think on who else to invite, to keep things small. But only… only people who'll be comfortable with how we want to do it, and who won't look at Shine or me with any kind of judgment."

Siamus leans forward a little to rest his elbows on the desk. "Aye. Anyone who would look at either of ye with judgement — they're no friend, and shouldn't expect to be honored with an invitation."

Lena sits back and smiles. "Just so. That's why — not an open invitation, not a big social event. I don't want any drama or false notes."

He nods. "Good. Well. We'll celebrate the pair of ye in whatever way ye like, and see ye make a blessed start of it."

"Thank you, sir," Lena says, her smile warming. "And of course I'll want to talk to Her Grace on it soon as well, though I'm sure Shine will, too. We'll need to talk about the arrangements, especially if we do it around here."

"Aye." Siamus smiles back. "Her Grace is best suited for most of that. She'll know what's what." He picks up his paper whale and sits back again, fiddling with it idly.

"D'ye want a house?" he asks abruptly.

"We… we live here," Lena says automatically, startled, but then she blushes and pauses to consider. "It is a thing we've talked about. It does seem a natural thing to do, once we're married…"

"To be clear," says Siamus, "we would like ye to continue to live here. As I've said before, you're family. But Her Grace and I do understand if ye… wouldn't like to, once you're married." He tosses the origami onto the desk. "If that's the case — and I tell ye I'd rather it not be — but if it is, I'd like to do what we can to keep ye like family. There's —" He gestures vaguely. "We could find ye something in Fallon Harbor, maybe. Or we could — the Light-priest lives on the grounds, in his cottage. We could build ye something." His manner is entirely earnest. "There will be the places in the city. That's a long way from here" — says the man who commutes there almost daily — "but if ye'd like, only say the word. Aye?"

Lena listens to all the options, a little dazed, and she nods. "I appreciate the thought, and I wouldn't… I wouldn't say for sure till Shine and I have had the topic out more thoroughly. I have been happy here." There's a little weight on those words, like it's not a thing she's said of many places in the world. "I hope we'll continue to be happy — maybe we'd stay in the same suite, though, or some such, so we're not taking up more space than needed."

"I will say again," says Siamus gravely, "that I would be happy to have ye still here. But I won't twist your arm about it." He flicks idly at the origami whale and then glances up at Lena with a grin. "I'll twist his arm."

At that, Lena laughs, a bright sound of delight. "I wouldn't say his arm is easy to twist, except maybe by certain people, about certain things. We might — I don't know what the future might bring, but if we do stay here, there might be children. It could end up being more than you'd bargained for."

Siamus laughs. "Ah, go on then, Her Grace and I will have a dozen our own, tides willing. We can fit the nursery with hammocks and stow 'em like little midshipmen."

"Little hammocks… maybe come a few decades we can crew a whole ship with them, yours and mine," Lena says with a giggle. "I don't know a dozen on my and Shine's side, that's a lot of time away from the fleet. Maybe I'll see how the first one goes, and figure from there."

"Oh, aye, we wouldn't like ye gone from the fleet so much. I suppose we'll all see how it goes." Siamus nods sagely, a gleam of humor in his gaze.

"I expect I'll be able to serve still, at least in the early days," Lena says, considering. "I'll need to talk to a healer of some sort about whether I can use the fel, but I should still be capable at the beginning. I don't… that is, I know a lot of women take ill at beginning, but I think I'll be alright."

Siamus sobers. "Aye, Lady Priscilla's had a terrible time of it. Have ye asked your friend Mrs. Hazan about the use of fel?"

"I think she was avoiding it," Lena admits. "She left the Cobalt Eye team and everything. But most of the time I don't need to use the fel at sea, only if things go wrong. In which case, maybe as long as I only do what's absolutely necessary…"

Siamus nods. "We would not have ye take unnecessary risks. But ye will decide for yourself what those are." He pauses; the hint of a rueful smile reappears. "If there's one thing Her Grace has taught me, it's that a lady must be left to make her own decisions in this business."

The last statement seems to strike something in her mind, and she is suddenly very interested in her teacup. She takes another sip of tea, and then looks back up to Siamus. "I'll make sure to follow the healers' advice. But anyway, there's no call to worry about it now. I'll let you know as soon as I know — it won't be a sudden thing."

"It rarely is," Siamus observes dryly. "There's some wait involved from start to finish."

"In any case, there's a lot to look forward to this summer," Lena says, her smile brightening. "And with Deathwing gone… I hope the peace will last a good long while."

"Aye, we can drink to that," Siamus agrees, and raises his teacup to her.

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