lucetilogs | That Sacred Arrangement....

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That Sacred Arrangement....

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lists_to_port; We are leaving this log WIDE OPEN. So if you are family or friends, you are invited and may mingle or gossip or be all dressed up or get drunk or do the electric slide or WHAT HAVE YOU. Are there any Wedding Crashers in Luceti? Ha!
What: Wedding
When: Monday afternoon
Where: That spot with the lilacs by the river in that meadow west of the village. You know that spot---we know you know that spot.
Summary: Jack and Raine get married, and everyone ships it hard forever.
Rating: G I expect? It's so hard to tell sometimes.

On the morning of his wedding, Jack sat bolt upright in bed and then vomited onto the floor. Several minutes after that were spent dry-heaving and gasping for breath, and then another several minutes crawling to the bathroom to put his head under the shower. Cold water---it brought back reality and rationality, and erased dreams of being a pirate and dying in some war and having a best mate and a lover who had always been forbidden him---ever since Jack Horner's lesson and the two weeks following it.

Sparrow figured it was a case of wedding nerves. Strange dreams were a new thing for him, after all--normally he slept dreamlessly and woke up alert.

Later, as he stood in the quiet meadow he and Raine had chosen for their ceremony among the fragrant lilac trees, that morning dream was forgotten. Sparrow was calm. Happy. Clean-shaven and dressed in the attire Buffy had picked out for him and eagerly waiting for his beautiful bride.

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"...All right." She ducks her head again, once she's pulled in close. "Together like this, we'll have a lot more to share."

"So much more. Safe now, you---no more undue burdens."

He kissed her once more on the forehead as the song drifted to an end.

"I suppose we shall have to go greet our guests, now..."

"It won't hurt you know. Greeting those who've come to wish us well." Or maybe those who had to see it to believe it, but what was the use of being negative?

"We still have a lot of time for us. Later..."

"All the time in the world," he agreed, offering her an arm to lead her into the crowd. For some reason, speaking that phrase bothered him, but he shook it off. He'd wanted this; they both had. And now it was official.

Raine smiles, lightly caressing his face once more before they make their way toward the others proper.

All the time in the world indeed, and after the festivities are attended to, then onward to their new home.

And the after.

Waking up the next morning certainly proves that the night before was no dream, despite the dreams that invaded during the night. The ones that could very well have been caused by the drink. So much of that night was hazy, even if she had known it to be wonderful. Hazy and dizzying and it had almost seemed that there would be no end to that, until there was: the quiet, the part she does not remember. The room was still dark, as she slowly blinked awake, getting her bearings.

Beside her, Sparrow slept on. He stirred slightly when she woke, still sensitive to the movements of the woman who shared his bed, and reached out to pull her close; but otherwise, he did not wake.

Jack was there: that's what mattered. Her anchor for the last day and night, she curled back toward him gratefully, even though she could not fall back asleep.

Oh. Oh. Lovely warm soft woman in his arms. Who...? Coffee-brown eyes blinked open and Jack Sparrow smiled, kissing her just behind the ear.

That rather pointy ear he had always adored.

"Morning, Mrs. Sparrow."

That kiss sends a light shiver through her. Very sensitive, this morning, though she can't imagine feeling any warmer, any safer, than she does right now.

"Good morning, my dear Jack."

With a grin at those words Raine's husband stretched bare, inked-and-scarred arms over his head luxuriously before wrapping around her again. It had been a good night. He had given everything he could to her, wanting nothing more than to make her happy; to make up for lost time. And she had driven out his dreams in turn---all those foolish dreams of piracy.

"It is, isn't it. Did you sleep well?"

"I didn't sleep alone, and I didn't sleep badly." That much was true. So much was hazy, and yet it didn't matter. She turned her head to look up at him. "All the same, it's much more rewarding to wake up at your side."

"So beautiful, you. Most beautiful girl in Luceti. All mine, isn't she?"

Sparrow idly let his palms wander down the length of her body. He had to get his mind around the fact that here it was morning, she was with him, and they were married. Then:

"You didn't sleep badly, you say----not the same as sleeping well."

"I slept well enough. There's nothing more that can be done for that, can it? The night's already gone." The last she wants to do is worry him over something like that. Something about his touch feels so new, even if it wasn't, exactly. Maybe it just had been very long, since. "Besides, I like the waking up, better."

Sparrow, meanwhile, was thinking to himself: Something about this--about HER---feels so NEW. But he assumed it was because it had been a long time since they had last been together, so he said nothing.

"As do I. Perhaps I should make you some waffles, or perhaps we should just stay together like this for a time..."

"I wouldn't mind having a drink of water... in a few minutes." She's not in a rush to leave just yet, or to have him do so, despite the conflicting messages between mind and body. She wanted that to quiet down and go away; much like she handled the unpleasant things. Right now, it felt like they had the entire day still ahead of them.

So Jack relaxed, now just letting the backs of his fingers drift over her upper arm. At least---his body relaxed. His mind, once the word "waffles" had been spoken, was racing along at a good clip. Distracting---a half-remembered dream, now here, now gone.

"Bloody dreams, eh?"

"... A few, but they're not important." Raine hadn't wanted them to come up. She's not unused to dreaming, even if these had been more unsettling than usual lately. Focusing on the wedding--their togetherness, that had come first. "Some of them were... strange. I suppose those paintings we found the other day decided to tell their own stories in my mind."

"I had a few, myself. Also strange. Ha. And rather...rather foolish, I suppose. In all of them, darling, I'm a pirate."

"A pirate?" There is a strangeness to that, and yet... she briefly reflects on how she nearly called him 'Captain', when she first woke up, though she had immediately brushed it off. "I wonder why. They're only in stories..."

"Aye---only in stories, aren't they. And I wake up in this beautiful reality, with you---I shouldn't even think of it. Just dreams, aren't they."

"It troubles you, though. This idea of being a pirate... even in a dream." She reaches up to touch at his forehead. "I can tell."

"Not so much...........aye. Troubles." He closed his eyes and leaned into that touch.

But it wasn't troubling so much as exciting and somehow right that he'd dreamed of piracy, of flying before the wind on a proud ship. And he'd accomplished most of his greatest feats without using violence.

"Or was there something else...?" At least his dreams seemed straightforward in that regard, though here they were focusing on them when they had already clarified that they weren't important.

"No. No, lass---nothing else." He sat up abruptly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll fetch you your water, shall I?"

"... Understood." She gives him a gentle smile, curling back for a moment. "I apologize for pressing. It's nothing to worry about, after all."

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