Take My Hand, part 1 -- (Izzy and Soule)
May 1st, 2396 Lautaret Botanical Gardens, French Alps, Earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something old. The Mek’leth that Soule had given her, strapped around her leg underneath her dress. His own weapon, carefully guarded throughout his years with the Klingons.
“To keep you safe..” A doctor had supposedly been the original owner. A Klingon doctor, who defended her own patients with it during battles. It had given her courage to get through the Tzenkethi War.. and to get through the past couple of months of the new civil war between Starfleet and section 31.
Something new. The wedding outfits that they had bought together at Selfridges the last time they had been on Earth on shore leave, just a few short months before; it seemed a lifetime ago now. But nothing, not even a new war, could stop them from coming back to Earth for their wedding day.
Something borrowed. A data crystal inside of a small bag that she carried. It contained the access codes for Vitro, and some of his memories which she’d had to store on the crystal before erasing them during the time that Soule was on his classified mission. It was her way of having Vitro here with them, since he’d disappeared.
Something blue. Not technically blue, but teal. Her medical rank insignia for Starfleet, pinned discreetly onto the neckline of her dress.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle took a deep breath, butterflies dancing all around her stomach, feeling both giddy and nervous all at the same time. She smoothed down the silken folds of her wedding dress, resisting the urge to fiddle with her hair. This seemed to be taking forever.
“Stop fidgeting, Isa.. I just need to add a couple more flowers..”
Her hair had been curled and braided and up-done within an inch of its life, and her mother clenched several hairpins in her teeth as she attached the final few buds into her daughter’s coif. She peered at her work in satisfaction and took the pins out of her mouth and set them aside. “There. Perfect.” Anais looked at her daughter and smiled , smoothing her hand down her cheek. "It's almost time.. Are you ready, Isa?"
“I am… I think. What if I forget my vows.. or drop a candle, or trip on my dress.. or…?”
“Isa, even if all of those things happen.. which they won’t.. it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. It’s how you and Soule feel about each other that’s important. And I know you both love each other very much. The day will turn out beautifully, chérie.” She smiled at her daughter to reassure her. “And the more you look back on it, the less important your worries will seem...”
They were in a large glass pavilion in the centre of the Lautaret botanical gardens in the French Alps. Through the glass, a constellation of flowers dotted the mountainside of the Col du Lautaret as if painted by a master's brush, spreading in a carpet of yellows and whites and purples amongst the brilliant green grass. The pavilion was decorated with pots of purple crocuses, and lit with candles. Beyond the curtained off rooms where the bride and groom were getting ready, guests milled around in the main hall, waiting for the ceremony to begin.
Isabelle thought of Soule, who was off in his own room also getting prepared. Was he as excited and nervous as she was? She took a deep breath to center herself, and willed the last few minutes to go quickly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"No..." Barbara tugged at the bowtie she was currently trying to tie on Soule. He was reaching for the glass of whiskey in Ilaihr's hand, dangling there tantalisingly as the old man chuckled.
"Just a sip...?" Soule begged sheepishly. He was white as a ghost and visibly nervous.
"Bledy hell man, pull yerself to t'gether." Hamlet interjected, standing in the line of sight of the glass. "I've n'er seen you shaken like this."
"I must concur, my boy." Ilaihr's famous words before transitioning into a story. "As I recall, on our first meeting you were taking on a pack of Gorn with nothing but a pint glass and a chair leg, and you were much more stalwart than this."
Barbara shook her head at the last part, pretending not to hear it, then simply cut to the heart of the matter. "She loves you." She looked up at Soule and smiled, before pointing her finger to cut him off from responding yet. "You're worried about things that have yet to pass, and whether you're worthy to carry the weight of the future with her. She loves you, and as long as you love her, that is all that matters."
"Well I coulda told him tha'... I mean, I am after all a mostly happily married man." Hamlet chimed back in.
"Oh, shut up Lieutenant." Barbara snapped at him.
"We're no' on duty now Admiral, so shut yer face." The Klingon even had the cheek to poke his tongue out, to which Babs simply scowled at.
"What if she's made a mistake? What if I'm not good enough, not worthy? Oh my god... What if Djinni shows up and implants that suggestion in her head?"
"I should slap him." Hamlet thought a loud.
"For god sake Hamlet, put the Klingon and the Scottish away for five minutes and be helpful." She snapped again, more angrily this time, breaking her concentration on the nearly finished bowtie. "And no, you shouldn't slap him."
"The Admiral is right, dear boy." Ilaihr patted Hamlet on the shoulder, and looked to Soule. "And Djinni has been taken care of; I took the liberty of setting up security measures to prevent her from gaining access, so you need not worry." He smiled his genial smile. "Speaking of hiring trained killers, I also invited some acquaintances I thought may either beat some sense into you, or simply speak in your language, in the event that you should panic as all people do before they wed."
"I'm..." Soule looked shocked...angry... confused at the old Aenar. "D... did you kill my grandmother? I mean... its a hell of a wedding gift but..."
"Zid Ziih! You didn't have her killed did you? Please...." Barbara tightened the bow, finishing the tie off and gazed sternly.
"Would I do that?" Ilaihr asked in a frail manner, only to be met with a collective 'Yes' from everyone. "Well I didn't, but I shall be informed of her arrival and we shall go from there, if she should arrive that is."
"And what bledy acquaintances, Ilaihr? Who have you invited to my wedding?" Soule asked accusingly.
"Only my, plus one, I believe you humans say."
"We do..."
"Who is my good friend Doctor Kessel Moran, whom I believe you've met. And will have much to talk about with your new wife."
Soule groaned.
"As your previous doctor I believe."
"And these acquaintances?" Soule asked with some urgency.
"And the acquaintances in question are... right there, my boy." Ilaihr smiled, greeting two figures at the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What happened to him?” Isabelle looked over the patient, brought in unconscious from the most recent away mission. It was not long after she’d first come aboard Hyperion as a new doctor. This was the first time that she had seen this cadet. He was distinctive – prosthetic right eye, prosthetic hand. Blond hair, handsome face, despite the scars.
“His implants shut down on the planet. The dampening field caused a static overload to his synapses and he passed out. He won’t be out much longer though, ” Dr. Viltvogel replied.
Isabelle nodded and continued scanning him, noting his empty right eye socket, and metal prosthetic left forearm and hand. She gently pulled back the sleeve of his left arm, looking at the prosthetic. It was well engineered, and it also wasn’t Starfleet made. “I wonder how he got them..?” His face bore scars from an old wound, the one that had taken his right eye.
The nametag on his uniform said ‘Douglas’. She glanced down at the PADD that contained his chart. “'Douglas, Soule: Cadet - Tactical Division..'”
‘Soule, huh?’ She thought, but didn’t say it out loud. ‘That’s a nice name. You're cute...’
She pulled back his good eyelid and shone a light into it. The pupil responded, and he began stirring back to consciousness, groaning. His eye opened, staring at her in a daze as he woke up further, murmuring, “…you’re beautiful..” Isabelle’s eyes went wide with an intake of breath.
Dr. Viltvogel looked over as she heard her patient murmuring, and stepped up behind Isabelle. “I’ll take it from here, Dr. Rousseau.”
“Uh.. yes, Doctor,” she answered quickly. Her cheeks flushed and she moved back out of Viltvogel's way, still curious about the cadet.
Cadet Douglas woke up fully in a panic, his good eye darting around the room. He jumped off of the biobed in a crouch and took a defensive position, his hands clenched into fists, eyeing Dr. Viltvogel warily with his good eye...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Nononono, come back here!!” Loud shouting erupted just outside of her room and a large, hairy beast burst through the door, which had apparently only been half latched, skidding to a stop just in front of Isabelle.
“Mr. Gallop! What are you doing in here?” The huge targ snuffled at her dress and whined to be petted.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let him go..” A small child followed the targ a few seconds later, looking pleadingly up at her, taking Mr. Gallop’s leash in her hand again, and pulling him back a few inches with all of her might, so that he didn’t mess up her dress. “Please don’t be mad..”
The little girl was wearing her best dress, and the targ was sporting a fancy collar with flowers, and was much cleaner than usual; his spikes were even shined.
“I.. uh.. Well hello, Tarya.” She smiled at Tarya and knelt, scratching the targ on the head. The presence of the targ and little girl didn’t upset her in the least. They were part of Hamlet’s family, which made them part of
her new family; Hamlet was one of Soule’s oldest friends.
“No, of course I’m not angry. Mr. Gallop is one of our guests too. Actually.. I’m glad you’re here. Are you ready to be our flower girl?”
“Yep!” She replied excitedly. She held up a decorated basket filled with fragrant purple dried rose petals, while at the same time trying to keep Mr. Gallop from sticking his nose in the basket and eating all of them.
"Good. I'm certain you'll do a fine job." Isabelle gave the girl a kind smile, then glanced at the chronometer on the wall, fresh butterflies sprouting in her stomach.
"It's time..” Her mother interjected almost as soon as Isabelle thought it.
“Tarya,” Isabelle asked. “Please go and find out if your father and Soule are ready..”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two figures uttered a scramble of electronic garble, the unmistakable voices of the most conspicuous and improperly dressed guests; Breen.
"@$&+ ?&=! &#@=" Tholl Grott spoke.
"€¥%®¢ ¢™€®% ¥¢&#=" Groll Thott continued immediately following, nodding as he spoke to the others in the room.
"How do they speak in my language exactly, Ilaihr?" Soule asked in some confusion. "I can't be the only one who doesn't understand them..."
With a nod from Ilaihr, the pair looked around the room for a moment and checked no one was outside the door, before proceeding to tap something on their helmets in unison.
"Honoured one." Tholl greeted Ilaihr, as they both bowed their heads to him. "Scholar." He continued with Hamlet.
Groll then proceeded to stand directly before Babs, making Soule puff up defensively; before revealing one of the decorative flowers from the ceremony he had fastened somewhere on his suit, and gifting it to the admiral. "Lady Mendosa." His translator then failed on a number of following words, that possibly have no direct translation.
"Awww, thank you Groll. You're still very sweet after all of these years." She replied, happily taking the flower, and even blushing a little.
Soule looked on, not quite sure what he was seeing. "What is happening? Why is it happening now? Is it a dream, or possibly one of your illusions Ilaihr?"
The old man just shrugged, and nodded his head back to the so-called Twins.
"Because, in all likelihood, you, as a member of an inferior species, are afraid." Tholl began. "The Breen concept of love, precludes fear. A prime female is a hard fought prize, requiring the death of any who oppose you; the most fertile and prized of which require the deaths of at least 50 Breen Warriors, in a bloody honourless free-for-all."
"Whilst the most ascendant of our people may lay claim under the rite of status, even the most lowly of our kin can challenge." Groll continued. "But even after the battle seems won, a female can deny; going so far as to challenge you to the death, herself. But if even a small part of the female has been won through the mating trials, then the true battle can commence."
"The true battle?" Soule asked curiously.
"By your human standards, ours is an aggressive affair, that is renewed regularly. It is the Unending War. If all is chaotically harmonious, our voices become one, and in time, the two become an army in chorus." Groll seemed to laugh at his own words, but who can say what a Breen laugh sounds like. "And side by side, you shall destroy your enemies and elevate your clan, until the time of passing."
"There are many battles in the Unending, and you will be victorious in many... however, in the end, the female always wins the war. Unless you are a coward or fate robs you of your defeat." Throll suddenly seemed to shift his gaze around the room. "We Breen do not fear death, only defeat, because you cannot experience defeat if you are dead; that is why the female always wins in the end. The death of your female... your bondmate is a fate far worse than death, it is a victory and the ultimate defeat; and countless Breen warriors have died in battle, so in their final moments, they can experience her victory."
"I..." Soule had a long think, gazing at the emerald soldiers. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"It was... a victory." Throll replied sombrely, cutting Soule off before approaching him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You are a warrior; Soule Douglas of Earth, impressive enough for our respect, yet you war with yourself, Swordsman, when you have a female with which to wage unending war, beyond those doors."
"You're right." Soule straightened himself up, and pulled himself together.
"He is? What the bledy hell are they even talkin' about?" Hamlet perked up in the corner.
"Something beautiful, which seems to have gone over your head... How
did you win Cre'el, Hamlet?" Babs asked sarcastically.
"Persistence. And I had less grey hair then." He replied, only to get a firm elbow in the gut, to shut him up.
"We will await the beginning of ceremony with the other guests." Groll nodded, deactivating his translator, and making his way to leave.
"We congratulate you on your inevitable defeat, to both your bondmate, and one day, the Breen Confederacy." Throll too nodded, and deactivated his translator, before plodding off with Groll.
"Well, my boy. Was that helpful in any way?" Ilaihr inquired.
"Actually... it was." Soule laughed. "Those Breen really have a way with words."
What the Twins had said, resonated with Soule. Behind the pointy metaphors and aggressive cultural differences, there was a beautiful tale in there, of vulnerability and strength; something he may never hear from their kind again so long as he lived, yet it left a feeling he would never forget.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Douglas, you really are exhausted. Sit down.” Soule had stumbled into sickbay desperately tired, knocking into a medical cart on the way. Isabelle caught him by the arm, and guided him to a nearby biobed. She was gentle, yet firm, and didn't sound like the other doctors he knew; her voice simply telling him the time made him feel better.
He then asked her how she was, of all things, which she found amusing; people don't usually ask doctors, but then again he'd never met a doctor he wanted to ask. Eventually, after alot of bumbling, which is all he could do in his current state, she did something nobody ever did around him; she blushed at something he'd said.
He slowly laid own, taking a deep breath as she placed a hypospray on his neck, administering the sedatives he needed to sleep. He held his hand out and grabbed hers as he heard the distinctive hiss, closing his eyes. He could still feel her hand in his as he drifted off, she didn't shrug him off, or walk away, or freak out; she had soft silken skin. Then... sleep came, his dreams filled with the most piercing shade of blue, and a feeling of being safe in his weakest moments.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…“Drop the phaser, put your hands on your head and lay face down on the floor....before I drop you....”
He had answered her call for help just in time.
“Amon says she has to die…” Wick, the insane man bent on killing the ship’s doctors, leveled a phaser at her head after having shot her in the hand.
Isabelle was curled protectively on the floor against the wall of her office, holding her injured right hand close against her body. She looked up at Soule’s face pleadingly as he leveled his own weapon at her attacker. Then, Wicke turned the phaser’s focus from her head to Soule’s chest.
‘Nonononono.... please..’ she thought. ‘Not him. Not him...’ She tensed, ready to fight.
A split second later, Soule fired, dropping Wicke at her feet, unconscious. She gasped, violently shaking as her adrenaline levels tanked; still clutching her severely burned hand. Soule crouched down and reached out for her hand. “Hey..Izz, it’s ok.. Let’s have a look, shall we...” His eyes were sincere and kind, his voice gentle…
He tended to her wounded hand and soothed away the pain and fear, made her feel safe..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tarya held Mr. Gallop’s leash tight with both hands as they picked their way through the crowded pavilion, dodging several guests and a few white-coated caterers bringing out food for the reception. They finally found the door, not so much by sight, because there were a few doors in this hallway and all of them looked alike, but by smell. The targ could find Hamlet and Soule’s scent anywhere. Mr. Gallop snuffled at the door and whined, and Tarya gave a small insistent knock, as only small children can.
“Izzy wants me to tell you it’s time..” she said, as the door was opened.
Mr Gallop began chirping excitedly, wagging his tail and half-sat body, almost seeming to smile with a toothy tusky grin. "Who's a good boy? WHO'S A GOOD BOY?" Then the targ let out a beastly groan of joy, leaping onto his hind quarters, clutching at Soule before he'd even fully opened the door.
"Down... Good boy." Soule gently lowered the animal, guiding it's front paws to the floor and away from his tuxedo, before kneeling down to it's level. "Have you missed me?" He rubbed Mr Gallop's face, scratching behind the ears, and pulling at his tusks.
Mr Gallop couldn't resist the joyful urge to jump up and show his affection, dipping between Soule's hands and planting his paws on Soule's shoulders. He narrowly missed gouging Soule several times with his tusks, only to headbutt him with his cranial crest, and then commence licking him profusely; his violent display of affection defeating Soule momentarily.
"NO MR GALLOP!" Tarya shouted, tugging hard at his leash. "GET DOOooowwNNn!" The high pitch of her voice seemed to speak him at a much deeper level, or he was utterly terrified, because he quickly flopped to his back, exposing his belly and whined for a belly rub. "Good boy." She patted him.
Soule couldn’t help but laugh as he wiped at his face. "Thank you Tarya." He smiled, before looking up at Hamlet behind him. "Isn't she like her mother?"
"Don't I bledy know it... Now, get up, we gotta go, it's time. And you gotta go wash yer face quick." Hamlet replied, helping Soule to his feet.
"Right. I will meet you all out there then." He smiled. "But, could you stay with me a sec, please mum; just in case I ruin the tie.
"Of course." She said with a glimmer in her eye.
Hamlet then whisked his daughter into his arms, and palmed the leash off onto the old man. "Off we go then. See you on the other side lad."
"Indeed.... Come, my boy." Ilaihr stared at Mr Gallop for a moment, who stared back transfixed, before slowly moving off at the same pace as the old man's three stepped trot; unusually not pulling this time.
As the others left the room, Soule turned to a wash basin, and wiped at his face with a wet flannel.
"So why did you really want me to stay behind?" Barbara immediately went on the attack when they she was sure they were alone.
"You're my mum. You bring me comfort."
That glimmer returned to her eye, but she was a dogged woman who would not be distracted by even his most sincere niceties. "But there is another reason."
"There's a box under the table."
With a puzzled look on her face, she went and retrieved said box, planting it down besides Soule. It was sizeable, and with all the hallmarks that it belonged to Soule. "What is it?"
"Open it."
She continued to look at it cautiously, before undoing the latches and opening it, where she was left speechless.
"Well... what do you think?" He asked, looking almost worried.
"I think she'll love it." She gasped, handling the contents of the box.
"Good. But I need your help with it. It'll take two minutes."
The admiral looked up at the chronometer. "I'm sure her mother is going over every inch of that girl's dress. So you may be lucky... you may not be late to your own wedding."
"I'm not late... I'm here... we just..."
"Dont be a pedant! Quickly, otherwise we will be keeping that lovely girl waiting... And so help me...!"
"Yes mum..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…The turbolift arrived at deck seven, the doors sliding open; the corridor to Hyperion's sickbay was just outside. It was during the Tzenkethi war, and they had needed to get off of the bridge, to take a break from the destruction, even for a little while.
"Whatever happens; I'm there when you need me." He kissed her forehead and continued holding her, not wanting to let go or carry onward to sickbay just yet.
"Never a dull moment on this ship is there?" He chuckled before catching her sparkling blue eyes and gazing longingly into them.
She looked into his eyes, then out into the corridor, and back to him again. “Hhm...no, there isn’t..” she replied, relaxing into his embrace. “Computer, halt turbolift, close door.” The computer complied, the turbolift doors swished back closed.
“I’m not ready to go yet either..” she whispered…
And he kissed her. Right there in the turbolift, for the first time.
And she kissed him back. And said what was in her heart.
…“I love you..”
He went silent for a moment; never being told those words before, he was scared and elated all at the time, unsure whether it was a dream or the waking world. He slowly let her down, letting her slide between his arms towards the floor, all the while still holding her close. "I love you too Isabelle."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle gripped her purple rose and crocus bouquet tight in one hand and her father’s arm with the other. “Not so tight, Isa.. relax. “ her father winced. “Oh.. sorry, Papa. I’m just excited.” She relaxed her grip feeling guilty, she probably left finger marks on his arm.
“I know you are.. Enjoy this, cherie, it’s a day that you will remember for the rest of your life.” He smiled at his daughter and pecked her on the cheek.
They stood at the beginning of what seemed to be an impossibly long aisle that led to the flower-covered wedding arch. The long anticipated moment had arrived.
The music swelled in an orchestral march. The ceremonial witnesses, went first, paired off. Hamlet and Cre’el, Ilaihr and Anais, and Isabelle’s brother Phillippe and his wife Julie.
Tarya followed, scattering her rose petals, accompanied by Mr. Gallop. There were a few tense moments when Mr. Gallop nearly veered off to jump on someone in the audience, but a few stern glances and a quick “No!” in Tarya’s high pitched voice brought him in line.
Then, Isabelle stepped forward with her father, and everyone turned to look at her, some lifting holoimagers to preserve the moment. But she barely saw them. What she remembered afterwards was the scent and color of the flowers, the glow of the candles and sunshine that permeated the glass-covered room and seemed to make everything blur except at the center of the pavilion where Soule stood in sharp focus under the arch with Barbara. She would forever remember how handsome he looked, in his black tuxedo that made his broad shoulders look even broader and accentuated his slim waist. But even more importantly, the man who stood up there waiting for her was her beloved, her
Imzadi.. her everything. And today they would vow to share the rest of their lives together. Her face broke into that beautiful joyful smile that only a bride can give her beloved groom on their wedding day.
Soule kept looking forward, with his eyes closed as the music started; he knew it signalled Izzy's approach, yet even without it, he could feel her smiling at him. He took a number of long circular breaths, readying himself the privilege of gazing upon his beloved.
"~She looks beautiful, Soule.~" He heard Melly whisper in his head.
"~I know.~"
"~Well, turn around!~"
And he did. As he turned slowly, he held cupped in his hand his other hand, and the two looked alike; and upon opening his eyes, he revealed a pair of blues, that saw only Izzy. He looked upon her, as if for the first time; speechless, smiling, and a little dizzy.
"Wow..." He blurted out to himself. Soule remembered buying the dress in Selfridges with Izzy, he remembered how it looked on the mannequin, and he did like it, but it hadn't quite come together; until now. The way it complemented her figure, the way it sparkled in the light, and the focus it commanded drawing your attention straight to her; she was the most beautiful girl in the room. With this the reality finally set in; today was the day, and now was the moment that he would promise to wake up next to her every morning. The fears and the worries suddenly seemed tedious and inconsequential to him, and he realised the Twins really were right; because if anything were to get in the way of this promise, the only thing people would need to fear... is him.
As Izzy approached the arch, Soule stepped forward with his hands out, longing to hold hers. He looked to Guillaume as they stopped before him, almost as if to ask for permission one last time, before taking his daughter's hand.
It took Isabelle a few moments to register what had changed about him; when she finally realized what it was, her breath caught in an astonished gasp, her jaw dropping. “You.. your…. Oh, Soule.. you look…. Wow...” she whispered, words failing her.
Guillaume gave Soule an approving nod, and relinquished his daughter’s arm. He stepped back to join the rest of the witnesses, taking his place next to his wife. Isabelle passed her bouquet to Cre’el, and took her place beside Soule under the arch.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'd like to build a place like this one day."
… “It would certainly make a beautiful place to live.”
They stood in the holodeck, in a recreation of Soule’s favourite castle in Wales. He had invited her to dinner in another rare moment between battles.
"It sure would..." He squeezed her hand and stared down at her out of the corner of his eye. "Especially if you had someone to do it with." …
"I think…" She said, moving him gently towards a comfortable window seat with several pillows. "That having someone to share this with would be a very good thing." …
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had stopped noticing his prosthetics a long time ago. But this, seeing him whole again, was absolutely magical. She took both of his hands, holding them in hers; marveling at the smooth skin and warmth of his new left hand, and gazed into both of his beautiful blue eyes, feeling suddenly shy. “Hello, my love.” She could only just stand there and look at him, taking it all in. Finally she broke out of her daze and nodded to Barbara to start the ceremony, still holding Soule’s hands in hers.
"H...hello." He himself replied in a daze; he could see the shyness in her eyes, as she became the classic blushing bride, and couldn't help but blush himself. "I...uh..." He looked down at his hand and shrugged, before gazing into her eyes again. "You look beautiful."
“And you look very handsome..” she managed to whisper, still blushing and smiling giddily.
Barbara cleared her throat, then smiled at the pair as they looked to her. "Now, I don't get to do this very often. So I hope you will forgive me, if I'm a bit rusty."
"I'll do it!" Ilaihr proclaimed, poking his head around the others.
"No, no. That’s quite alright Ilaihr." She swiftly interjected, shooing the old Aenar off with her eyes.
Upon regaining her composure, she rested her hands on the wedding couple's shoulders and looked out to the audience. "Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today, to bear witness and share in the wedded union of Isabelle Rousseau and Soule Douglas. In a world so set on falling apart, their time together is a tale of finding strength together; allowing their love to grow and blossom they now have decided to live their lives together as one."
"And if anyone should have a reason they should not be joined today, should very much reconsider being here at all; because if they can't see what I see before me, they never will." She said this part with particular passion; tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at the pair. She briefly glanced to Ilaihr, who's head bobbed to all the motions of someone having a conversation. He looked back at her and smiled, nodding for her to continue; no one would be interrupting them.
"I don't think you have to repeat after me for this next bit." She asked Soule and Izzy. "I think you're familiar with it. But I believe Soule has something to say first."
He smiled at Babs, then squeezed Izzy's hands as he took a deep breath. "Isabelle... before I met you, I had forgotten what I wanted to do, and what having a home felt like. I was a wanderer, and a rogue, always looking for something to fight for. And now here you are; there's nothing worth fighting for more, my home is wherever you are, and what I want to do is never stop striving to make myself more deserving of your love."
"Isabelle?" Babs gasped, trying very hard to keep a hold of herself.
Isabelle’s eyes had also suddenly become misty, and she dabbed at them with the corner of her hand. As she did so, she gathered her thoughts to make a humble attempt to distill the magnitude of what she was feeling down to just a few words.
“Soule, before I met you, I had only called one place home. When I left Earth as a cadet, I wasn’t really sure of what I was looking for, even feeling a little out of place. You showed me the galaxy’s beauty, fed my explorer’s spirit, and helped me find myself in a new place. You taught me to get back up again and keep going when times got rough. And you taught me to find life’s perfect moments..”
She squeezed Soule’s hands back for strength, her eyes shimmering with joyful tears, nearly becoming overwhelmed by emotion.
“Even though I left home, I’ve found it with you, no matter where we are. You said once, that even though we explore the galaxy, and discover the hidden truths of the heavens, that the most beautiful things are close to home..” Her voice cracked, and she had to dab at her eyes again, “Toi, t’es mon âme..et mon amour. And you are my home.”
"Then." Barbara croaked, and eventually echoed to the whole room. "By the power given to me by the United Federation of Planets, I, Admiral Barbara Mendosa pronounce you, Husband and Wife." She then whispered to the pair. "I thought those sounded like vows." Before smiling, taking a step back, and crossing her arms behind her.
“They were..” Isabelle grinned at Babs, whispering back, and giving her a wink.
“And… “ she motioned for Tarya to bring Mr. Gallop forward. “One more thing.”
Whereupon, she leaned down and took a small silk pouch from the targ’s collar, scratching him behind the ear and taking a treat from her own small bag to thank him which he snuffled at and munched eagerly.
She drew from the pouch an iridescent black metal ring, matching the one that Soule had given her when he asked her to marry her, with the exception that this one was larger than her own. She held out her hand to Soule’s left one. “Both of these rings are forged of the same metal, like the two Klingon hearts forged at the anvil of the gods, which beat as one.” She smiled up at him, placing the ring on his finger. “With this ring, I thee wed. May our two hearts beat as one.”
Soule looked down at her, and at the new ring on his finger. She left him speechless.
"Kiss her ya bledy idiot!" Hamlet called out, blubbering next to Cre'el.
"Get a hold of yourself, husband." Cre'el elbowed him in the side.
"But it's a beautiful thing, y'know."
Cre'el looked to Soule. "He's right though. Kiss her... you bledy idiot." Even Cre'el let her considered manner go, her voice breaking into a Scottish lilt.
They didn't have to tell Soule a third time; and as if for the first time, he kissed her tenderly on the lips, and gently squeezed her hands.
She returned his kiss equally tenderly, lingering as if she forgot they were in front of a room full of people, at first clasping his hands in hers, then wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, holding him close.
Flashbulbs from the holoimagers went off and a cheer erupted from the crowd. But even if no one had recorded that moment, it would still remain frozen in time like a shining jewel in her memory forever.
Either, like her he had forgotten there were people there, or he just didn't care; but with her arms around him, Soule wrapped his around her waist, and whisked her up above him, twirling around on the spot with their lips still locked. He giggled, unable to contain his joy, before gazing into her shining blue eyes, and being left breathless. "I love you." He whispered, slowly letting her down, and smiling at everyone around them.
For her part, she just didn’t care.. she felt happy and glowing and giddy, and everything in between. She laughed joyfully as they twirled, nuzzling his nose with hers as they kissed.
“I love you too, my darling husband.” As he let her down, she cast a glance around the room at their beloved friends and family, and there was hardly a dry eye in the house.
"Then, it is my pleasure..." Barbara dried her eyes and cleared her throat. "...To introduce for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas." She smiled at them, silently begging that she got that right. "And may their love burn eternal, on the infinite shores they tread together."
Amongst the crowd; Mellissa sat with wet eyes and a smile, next to Arthur who barely understood the emotions yet still had an innocent grin of happiness.
Whilst Mordecai, not really the wedding type, simply clapped, he was forced to pat Sasha on the head, who beyond her usual tough exterior, was bawling at how beautiful everything was. She punched him in the shoulder, whilst trying to wipe her eyes. "Don't you EVER, tell Soule I cried!"
Artur and Thomasz attempted to fight and distract themselves, and do as teenage boys do at a wedding, only to be firmly put in their place by their younger sisters; Sames and Miral. Without speaking, the girls made it very clear that they were going to enjoy every moment of this wedding, and that the idiots weren't going to ruin it. Subsequently, all four of them were either crying or teared up, however for quite different reasons.
Even Tholl cradled his visor in his hand, possibly actually taken with the ceremony, as Groll rested a hand on his comrade's shoulder, seemingly swaying his head whimsically to the proceedings.
Soule looked to Izzy, giddy with joy. "So, Mrs. Isabelle Douglas..." He paused, pondering to himself. "...I have nothing else to back up this sentence with; I think I just wanted to say those words..." He rested his head on hers, nuzzling her nose, now effectively wordless.
“So… Mr. Soule Rousseau Douglas..” she smiled giddily back, letting it all sink in. "Me too.." she giggled. Barbara had indeed gotten it right. She had given him her last name as a middle name, just as he had given her his name as her own, each giving a part of themselves to each other. She retained Rousseau as a middle name as well, to keep the balance.
"So.. we have a party to attend..." She nuzzled him once more and took his hand, facing the audience. At Barbara’s nod, the music now started up again from the quartet, a triumphant joyful recessional.
He squeezed her hand, and took the first step forward down the aisle with his blushing bride. But his mind wandered somehow as they walked amongst their friends and family; possibly glimpsing the future, or visiting a dream, he couldn't tell.
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The sound of clapping became rustling in the leaves of trees, and the cheers became the songs of birds in the dawn chorus, Izzy and Soule now walking down a country path. They were both a little older; although Izzy surely didn't look it, she walked with the confidence that comes with time and wisdom, whilst Soule looked softer and more distinguished, with his beard finely trimmed and an early grey streak in his hair. As they walked hand in hand, they gazed up at the sky of an alien world; two blue moons setting, and a dim sun red rising. They were broken from their reverie by the pitter patter of multiple tiny feet.
"Mommy, Daddy... look." With the mixture of the light, the sky took on a purple haze. "It's pretty."
Soule looked down, at his and Isabelle's children... but he couldn't quite see them. He knew they were beautiful, mischievous looking children, with gold and chestnut coloured hair and piercing blue eyes; yet he just couldn't see their faces. He smiled and looked to Izzy, kissing her on the forehead and closing his eyes, opening them to the start of the wedding reception, giddy for the future yet to be told.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
…"Imzadi, you are worth more than the stars themselves to me..”…
…"Falling in love with you wasn't a choice, it was like finding a part of myself I didn't know I'd lost, and you've given me strength ever since."…