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bejeweledblondie · 7 months

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Fairytale Wedding

Captain John Price x F! Royalty Reader

Summary: a continuation of “A Knight in Shining Amor” After Y/N had recovered from her injuries she started to court Captain John Price. Even attending Trooping the Color with him. Soon a Royal proposal happened & the big wedding day is upon us

Warnings: Mention of a wedding night

Y/N had been waiting for this day ever since she was the flower girl at her Aunt Mary’s wedding. Years of preparation went into this ceremony, all the way from the tiara she was to select from her grandmother’s collection to the flowers in her bouquet. She had waited years to find a man suitable for her, then came along John. He had saved her life & she grew fond of him. Over the past year they had been courting each other & attending formal events. However behind the privacy of the palace walls it was a whole different story. She was able to see that tender side of him & he was able to see her without all the Royal protocol. He was used to seeing her in a gorgeous ballgown, or all done up but he found her most beautiful in blue jeans.

So here she stood in front of the golden gilded mirror in her bedroom. Her wedding dress had been designed custom by Christian Dior & was adorned with beautiful floral appliqués representing each of the Commonwealth countries. It had a high neck resembling Grace Kelly’s iconic wedding dress & her veil was a cathedral length. The blusher draped over her face & went down to her elbows. She looked the epitome of what a royal bride was to be. John’s niece, Evelyn was in seventh heaven & couldn’t believe that his new aunt was a duchess. When she saw her new aunt in her wedding dress her eyes lit up.

“Auntie Y/N,” Her little voice squeaked out. She turned around to see the little girl looking up at her. “You are the prettiest princess I’ve ever seen.” She bent down & hugged the little girl.

“Thank you Eve,” Y/N replied. “And I’m sure you’ll make a wonderful bridesmaid.”

Price’s sister, Katherine & her sister now the Princess of Wales Caroline came in. Both were wearing the custom pale blue gowns that had been designed for them. Katherine picked up Eve & Caroline helped Y/N with the train.

“Ready to go?” Caroline asked. Caroline had already experienced her own wedding day & knew the jitters that Y/N was experiencing. Then started to walk out of the room & into the hallway. The private photographer they had hired was already snapping candid photos. Y/N started down the staircase & saw all of the palace staff watching her. She gave a soft smile in their direction they had seen her grow up & were a vital part of her upbringing. They were of equal importance to her that she shared this day with them.

She finally reached the bottom & walked to where the carriage was parked. Katherine put Evelyn in first & then helped Y/N with her gown. Caroline was near the steps into the carriage to lend a hand to make sure she didn’t fall. Once inside & seated next to Evelyn both ladies joined them. The foot man climbed up & grabbed onto the reigns.

“You ready your highness?” He asked.

“Yes I am! Let’s go!” She replied. Evelyn was practically bouncing in her seat it was the first time she was in a carriage & was absolutely elated. The childlike wonder of her future niece made Y/N wonder what her future children will be like. Soon they were off towards the large brass & golden gates of Buckingham Palace. Screaming crowds of people from all over the world lined the streets. Y/N waved to the people & Evelyn being the social butterfly she was yelled “hello” & waved. Katherine couldn’t help but laugh at her child soaking in the royal treatment.

The sun was out & shown down on the carriage. Y/N’s tiara she had on loan from her grandmother reflected off of the sunlight creating a bright effect. It just added to the beauty of the day. Finally they pulled up to the Westminster Abbey, & her dress was able to be put on full display. Katherine, Evelyn, & Caroline all stepped out before letting Y/N out. Caroline held out an arm while Katherine held onto Y/N’s bouquet & Evelyn.

Once Y/N was out of the carriage the already cheering crowds erupted into louder cheers. Katherine handed her the bouquet & held onto Evelyn’s hand as they started to walk into the cathedral. The priest was waiting for her at the front doors. He grabbed one her hands & gave her some words of endearment to help calm her nerves. Very similar to the ones he gave to John earlier.

At the alter John stood there staring at the thousands people. His team was in the second row all smiles. Ghosh was Simon today, he had ditched his skull mask for a clean shave. Soap showed up in a kilt to represent Scotland. Gaz was there for a good time & to represent his Captain. John hadn’t been this nervous since his first mission. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone ever, she was his whole world. He knew that the moment he visited her in the hospital. The organ started up & the choir started to sing a religious hymn. The crowd stood up & watched as the religious dignitaries walked first lead by the priest.

Then his beloved niece & older sister. He smiled at her as she waved excitedly while throwing petals. It made him wonder what the future children Y/N & him would have. Soon he saw his beloved, looking absolutely ravishing. She radiated pure love & the sunlight from the Abbey’s skylight make her sparkle. Tears started to well in John’s eyes when he saw her. Finally she had reached the alter, & after handing her bouquet to Caroline he took her left hand.

“You look beautiful.” He whispered to her.

“You look handsome.” She whispered back. He really did know how to pull off a British Army Officer’s dress uniform. The ceremony was long but the both of them soaked up every minute. Once the ceremony was complete, they had started to make their way together down the aisle. He had looked over to his team & Soap gave him two thumbs up. John shook his head & chucked.

After carriage ride through the streets of cheering of crowds who wanted to get a glimpse of the newly weds they had finally reached the palace. While the guests were starting to arrive for the reception Y/N & John along with their families were in the sitting room that the main balcony is connected to. John couldn’t stop staring at his bride, she was the most of beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on. It was clear her inner beauty reflected outwards. She had bumped into him & he had grabbed onto her waist insuring she didn’t fall.

“Jonathan Price, that better be your sword poking me.” She giggled.

“Its definitely a sword my dear but one you’ll see later on.” He whispered back into her ear causing her to blush. It was soon time for them to grace the balcony that was looking out onto the crowds celebrating the wedding. It was customary the couples saved their kiss for the balcony with the entire royal family.

With Y/N & John in the front both families surrounded them. The crowds were screaming “kiss her” over & over again. John placed his hands at her waist & took her in for a deep kiss. The roar from the crowd was amplified once they saw them lock lips. Once they broke apart they rest their foreheads against each others.

“I love you.” She said & looked into his eyes.

“I love you more.” He said & pulled her in for another kiss.

#call of duty #ghost call of duty #john price x reader #captain john price #captain johnathan price #cod imagines #john price #cod mwii #cod mwf2 #captain price x y/n #captain price #captain price x female reader #captain john price imagine #simon riley x reader #john pr

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kirstydreaming · 9 months

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Mori Lee 👗

#feminine fashion #Mori Lee #9551 #satin bodice #tulle skirt #pink dress #floral appliqués #party dress #smiling #feminine inspiration #extra high resolution #kirstydreaming

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yujo-nishimura · 3 months

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Whispers of the Desert Kingdom - Part 5

Warning: Sir Crocodile x fem reader, English is not my native language, not proof-read, age gap - forced marriage, a little bit of fluff, a little bit of angst

words: 1122 - a bit longer this time, since it is the weekend ;)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

The day had finally arrived. Two weeks had passed since your father, the king, had revealed that you were to be married to Sir Crocodile. The time had slipped away like a hazy dream, leaving you in a state of disbelief. Each day, servants and maids had entered your room to dress you in various gowns, experiment with different hairstyles, and apply a myriad of makeup styles. Congratulations poured in from all corners of the world, with floral arrangements arriving as celebratory gifts. Even Vivi, your dear sister, had sent a heartfelt message, expressing her well-wishes and apologizing for her inability to attend the ceremony. The world seemed to be in motion, preparing for the momentous event, while you remained caught between anticipation and a lingering sense of uncertainty.

Standing in front of the grand entrance to the main hall of Alubarnas church, you were kept at a safe distance from the cheering crowd by the palace's guards. Your heart raced, hidden beneath the layers of your long white gown and the veil that covered your face. The anticipation had been building since morning, and you hadn't seen Crocodile throughout the two weeks leading up to the wedding. As an arranged marriage, you were uncertain of his feelings, but you held onto the hope that love would blossom between you and him with time.

The doors to the church swung open, and your father, dressed in his finest attire, guided you on his arm inside the hall. Diplomats and guests from across the world had gathered to witness and celebrate this momentous occasion. High-ranking marine admirals and even infamous warlords graced the wedding with their presence, their faces mere shapes behind the delicate layers of your veil. Nervousness gripped you, the fear of tripping over your long dress mingling with the excitement and anticipation of meeting your future husband.

As you cautiously lifted your head, the fine layers of your veil allowed you to catch a glimpse of Crocodile standing at the end of the aisle. He was dressed in a beautifully tailored tuxedo, accentuating his tall and muscular stature. A bow tie and an onyx-shaped pocket square, matching the color of your hydrangea bouquet, added an elegant touch to his ensemble. Though you had little say in the wedding details, you had insisted on these purple and blue flowers since they had been your favorite since childhood.

Your ivory satin dress exuded luxury, its soft and lustrous sheen captivating those who laid eyes upon it. The classic A-line silhouette flattered your figure, while delicate lace appliqués adorned the bodice, infusing the design with romance and femininity. You knew you looked stunning as you took slow steps toward Crocodile, still avoiding his gaze. In that moment, you heard him gasp, and your father nodded in approval before stepping down from the podium. Left standing alone in front of the man you deeply adored, unable to meet his eyes, you felt vulnerable and overwhelmed with emotion.

The music ceased, and a hushed silence settled over the hall, awash with anticipation. The priest began his sermon about love and unity, but your mind struggled to focus. Dizziness clouded your thoughts, making you tremble and feel faint. You almost felt sick to your stomach, you never would have thought that one day you would stand here, with your fathers approval marrying a warlord of the sea. Lifting your head cautiously, you sought a reaction from Crocodile, but his gaze remained fixed on the priest, his expression as indifferent as ever. It dawned on you that he did not love you, and perhaps he never would. This arrangement was likely for his own benefit, not for the sake of love. However, you found solace in knowing that this union could still bring you the happiness you had yearned for—being with the man you deeply loved and making your father proud. There was nothing inherently wrong with that.

The priest's words interrupted your thoughts. "And you, Princess Y/n, do you promise to love, honor, and cherish Crocodile, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"

Your voice quivered, but you managed to utter a faint, "I will."

Crocodile's deep voice followed suit, breaking through the silence. "I will."

The priest continued his sermon, and you suddenly felt the warmth of Crocodile's hand enveloping your own gloved hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Surprised, you looked up, your face flushed. He had noticed your nervousness. A smile played upon his lips as he directly gazed at you through the veil. It was the second time he had acknowledged you, and your heart skipped a beat, filled with hope and anticipation.

He retained his hold on your hand as a young servant presented the wedding ring and he gently slid the ring on your finger.

"May these vows be a guiding light in your marriage, anchoring you in times of joy and serving as a reminder of your enduring love in times of hardship," the priest concluded.

Crocodile released your hand momentarily, only to raise his own, gracefully concealing the golden hook next to his tuxedo. Without hesitation, he delicately lifted your veil, his movements precise and confident. Finally, you saw him without the veil—his black hair slicked back, his dark purple eyes gleaming in the soft candlelight of the church. A gentle smile adorned his lips, and you were so close that you could catch the familiar scent of sandalwood and the faint trace of cigar smoke. A warmth emanated from your stomach as he leaned in, drawing nearer to you.

"And now," the priest proclaimed, "you may kiss the bride!"

In that fleeting moment, you heard Crocodile's whispered words, "You are mine now!" carrying both the weight of a promise and the undercurrent of a subtle threat. The touch of his mouth against yours overwhelmed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. In that passionate embrace, time seemed to stand still, and the world around you faded into insignificance. However, the guests in the hall erupted into applause, their joyous cheers filling the air and dragging you back into reality. The dual nature of Crocodile's words lingered in your mind as he already broke the kiss and his expression returned to its usual indifference. The nervousness from earlier had mixed now with fear and anticipation. Could it be that he would surpass your wildest dreams, exceeding every expectation you had ever held? In this moment as he gently lifted you, carrying you out of the church under the cheers and applause of the audience you were ready to accept whatever would lie ahead for you. Even if this man would mean your ruin.

#one piece #sir crocodile x y/n #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile one piece #x reader #yujowriting #sir crocodile #alabasta

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royal-confessions · 15 days

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“Amalia needs a new makeup artist desperately. She wears way too much eye makeup - it’s heavy and smoky even in broad daylight, and regardless of the time of day, her eyes look sullen and sunken in. Even the smoky eye isn’t executed properly - it’s not blended well and her eyeshadow to eyelash ratio is awful - for that much eye makeup, you need proper falsies, and it’s insane to suggest that for the middle of the day. It’s not a good look in general but especially not on her skin tone/type, even more when you consider that she’s not exactly beaming so the spark of a smile never lightens up her eyes. Her bronzer is patchy and clashes with the natural yellow/gold tones of her hair, and someone needs to take a beauty blender and get half of the foundation off - you can see her skin texture from the cakiness a kilometer away. Stop putting her in brown nude lip liners, she’s 20 years old - put her in a pinky nude. Lighten up the whole look, it drags her down and makes her look tired, bored, sullen, and about 25 years older. Speaking of that, she needs to fire the stylist too. Almost every outfit that I can think of off the cuff (other than the pink jumpsuit) ages her so much. I’m significantly older and I dress more youthfully - and I’m also plus-sized, and have been since I was a very young child just like Amalia. She needs some room for her skin to breathe - she’s always bundled up neck to wrist to toe like a 50 year old pastor’s wife. Get dressed that emphasize her waist, more youthful necklines or a fun sleeve. I know it is not easy to dress formally as a plus-sized 20 year old and that she must have massive insecurities - I know because I’ve been there. But if the professionals gave her a light makeup look that emphasizes her natural features and a fun, youthful outfit, she’d look a million times better and feel better too. Someone put this girl in a floral midi (like something Victoria would wear) and a fun color pair of 2 inch block heels and a neutral clutch with a styled pony with face framing pieces and natural makeup - she’d be a different princess. Or for a more formal event, deepen the eyeshadow with some shimmer and add a more berry toned blush and lip, tiara paired with a low bun with face framing strands, dangly earrings, scoop neck sleeveless dress at the front and the back with a fun detail at the shoulder and no necklace. Printed to keep it youthful, maybe even textured with an appliqué or lace to formalize. Enough is enough. They’re doing a disservice to her - it’s like they’re intentionally picking the exact opposite of what would work best for her hair, skin, and body. I can’t stand it anymore.” - Submitted by Anonymous

#princess catharina amalia

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floral-force · 11 months

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Sleeping Bounty - Chapter 10

We Are One

din djarin x f!reader

summary: Din and his princess get their happy ending with a wedding fit for royalty.

words: 4.5k+

warnings/tags: this is just extremely fluffy and self-indulgent. my blog and works are 18+ always. good friend Greef Karga, nervous!din, Mando'a, cute wedding stuff bc i'm a sucker for it

a/n: this is the final chapter in din and his princess's story. hold on for the epilogue, though!

read on ao3 | series masterlist

previous | epilogue

You stood in front of the tri-fold mirror nestled in the corner of your bedchamber, the right pane ending where a marble post began its arch to the ceiling, dropping to the other side and outlining the inlet where a chaise sat in the morning sun. One of your chambermaids picked up the tiered tulle slip laid out on it, arranging it over the circular pedestal the other dragged over and positioned in the center of the mirror. They let you rest your hands on their shoulders as you stepped up and into the opening, giving them thanks when you stood straight and still. The women pulled the slip up until the high waistband sat perfectly on the natural pinch of your torso.

Without delay, one kicked two wooden stepstools behind you while the other pushed the wearing your wedding dress mannequin over. They whispered to each other and smiled, their happiness deflating your anxiety a tiny bit. As they both worked at undoing the small buttons on the back, you tried to slow your quick pulse, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around yourself. The air was cold and prickled your skin; you grounded yourself to that sensation, even if it was a little unpleasant.

You gasped when you heard the door creaking open, but you and the chambermaids were relieved to see it was just Peli and your mother. The fairy flew over in a rush, her full blue dress bouncing with the sudden change of speed. Your mother was close behind, her rich purple dress taking a pearlescent sheen in the sunlight with each quick step.

“Allow me,” Peli said, pushing her sleeves up a bit and waving her wand.

The chambermaids gasped in awe when the dress lifted into the air, the full tulle skirt flowing out in a halo above you. Without instruction, you raised your arms and closed your eyes as the dress was slowly lowered over you. When you opened them again, the women helped you put your arms through the delicate tulle bishop sleeves before getting to work on buttoning the back up.

Peli floated behind your left shoulder and your mother stood on your right, both women dabbing tears off their cheeks with handkerchiefs. The chambermaids finished, and you thanked them profusely before they walked to the right and towards the vanity across the room.

“Oh, Rose!” Peli clasped her hands and smiled with a quivering lip. “You look beautiful.”

“Absolutely beautiful,” your mother echoed, fingers absentmindedly smoothing the skirt of your dress. Her pointed golden crown glinted in the light when she tilted her head and smiled at you in the mirror. “You really outdid yourself, Peli.”

“It wasn’t all me. Your daughter was showing me how far she’s come in the art of making royal demands.”

You gasped and playfully threw your hand back at Peli with a scoff. Your mother chuckled.

The dress really was perfect. Peli had met your expectations and then flew to the heavens with them. The ballgown silhouette was delicate but full from its pink-hued champagne tulle lining. A layer of white tulle embroidered with Chantilly lace floral appliqués that wisped up from the hem to the bodice gave it an ethereal feel. You hadn’t specified what flower to use among the leafy accents, leaving it up to Peli. Seeing the briar roses among the dainty, leafy vines confirmed your guess as to what she’d pick—and they were lovely.

You smiled at how the pointed Basque waistline and sweetheart neckline with its modest plunging illusion inset perfectly accented your figure; it had been Peli’s idea to include these things, and you were thankful you allowed her to. The bodice was embroidered with the same white floral appliqués adorning the skirt of your dress, a few trailing vines dripping down to the tulle skirt. The lace motif curled around to an open back, small satin buttons trailing down your spine at the point of its subtle v-line. The pattern curled around the top of your off-shoulder sleeves and few smaller iterations of the lace roses decorated the thin tulle, while the cuffs were completely wrapped in the pattern.

Peli nodded at you in the mirror and smiled. “Turn around.”

“Why?” you asked, slowly starting your path with gentle movements to the left her despite your suspicion.

She winked. “You’ll see.”

She waved her wand, and you felt the back of your dress lift up. It was far easier for you to move, but you still did so with caution. She abruptly told you to stop when you’d almost made it around. Material dropped to the floor again with a light rustle, and you met Peli’s eyes. She tilted her head towards the mirror, and you looked over your shoulder to see a train of tulle flowing out behind you. It was speckled with the same lace motif and added to the dress’s delicate, feminine quality. The train was so long that it was spilling up against the mirror; your mother had had to take a few steps back and into the sunlight spewing through the inlet’s large window.

“Oh, Peli!” Your mother sighed, teary eyes trailing up from the embroidered train to meet yours, then to the fairy’s. “It’s going to look marvelous at the ceremony.”

You nodded in agreement. Tears you didn’t know had formed trailed down your cheeks. “Thank you, Aunt Peli.” You sniffed, taking her small hands in yours, voice wavering when you spoke again. “Thank you for everything.”

She didn’t need to say anything, and you didn’t expect her to. Your aunt had done so much for you, including bringing your beskar-clad fiancé to you—even if that was an accident. Peli pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you softly laughed when tears fell down her face to match yours. She shook her head and flew back a bit as she dabbed her cheeks dry.

“Goodness!” She exclaimed with a sniff. “I’m gonna waste all of my tears now and look like a mean old hag at the ceremony when everyone else is crying and I’m not.”

“You might not be alone,” your mother suggested after you had all finished laughing.

You went to turn and face the mirror again, Peli lifting the train with her wand so you could move and ask, “You don’t think the ki—er, father will cry?” You bit your bottom lip at your mistake; calling your parents by their titles was a reflex that you may always be chipping away at.

She shrugged, crossing her arms. “He may. I can count on both hands the number of times he’s cried. One of which being the night we…” Your mother trailed off and her face was suddenly painted with sadness. She took a deep breath and looked back up at you, shaking her head and softly smiling again. “Who knows? Maybe his daughter’s wedding will make him shed a tear or two.”

“Who knows!” Peli exclaimed from the other side of the room, your heads turning.

She was flying behind the chambermaids as they approached you, one of them holding a dark wooden box. It looked long and deep enough to hold a bushel of the crabapples that grew near the cottage you found yourself missing the past few months. The thought made your heart heavy for only a moment. You bit the inside of your cheek and fiddled with the diamond ring on your left hand. This was supposed to be a happy day; you couldn’t linger on your blue nostalgia.

When the women stopped a few feet away from you, your mother gently took the box with a nod, clutching it in her hands. The other held your shoes—a pair of clean, white satin heels—in her hands, waiting expectantly at Peli’s side. When Peli waved her wand and raised the front hem of your dress enough to reveal your feet, covered in thin, white stockings, the chambermaid crouched down and helped you slowly step into the oddly comfortable heels, smiling with you when you wobbled. You thanked her and steadied yourself; Peli took that as her cue to fix your hair with a swirl of her wand. The other chambermaid returned and started to add a little makeup to your face—enough to accent your features and match your dress’s soft, romantic look.

When it was all finished, your mother stepped to your side and exhaled, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were glassy as she looked at you in the mirror, a rogue tear slipping down her cheek. If you weren’t wearing makeup, you’d tear up too. She stepped in front of you and took a shaky breath, saying your name three times as if she was reciting the end of an incantation.

“I want to give you this to wear.”

One of the maids brought over a small table, and your mother set the box down, her thumbs flicking two tarnished latches up. She kept the box closed and bit her lip. Her fingers traced over the intricate carvings of vines and leaves, fingernails catching on deep ridges. Your mother shook her head and chuckled to herself.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting a Mandalorian to give you back to us. Seeing you next to him—” her eyebrows knitted together— “I thought he’d taken you captive from Phillip and was going to hold you for ransom. Use our pain against us. If it weren’t for Peli’s testimony, I think Stefan would’ve had him hauled away. And if he hadn’t, I certainly would have.”

You could only listen and try to process what she was saying and why she’d chosen to confess her hesitancy and dislike of Din today. She looked up at your confused face. A gentle expression washed over her.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for my grave misjudgment. After seeing how he behaves around you, how he treats you…I think—no, I know he’s an honorable man.”

Your mother lifted the lid of the box, and you got a glimpse of a small, oblong package resting on top of something else, both hidden under brown paper. She gingerly started to unwrap the smaller item with the chambermaids’ help, and you gasped when you saw a fringe tiara, its dainty spikes of diamonds sparkling in the light. The brown paper was pulled back and carefully unwrapped to reveal a delicate two-layered veil; your mother had it draped over her arms and you saw the intricate lace embroidery around the edges of it.

“I wore this on my wedding day,” she said, meeting your eyes again. “I want you to wear it for yours.”

You could only grin at her and choke back a sentimental sob. She walked behind you and Peli followed her with a gentle hold on end of the veil. Your mother gently placed the tiara on the crown of your head, making sure it was in the correct position. It was heavy on your head, forcing you to stand as straight as possible; Din would probably tease you for it later. Peli flew over you to drape the blusher over you, the thin material reaching your fingertips. All four women in the room looked at you in the mirror, smiling and sighing. Your mother wiped a few tears off her face. You almost shed a tear yourself, but Peli gently tapped your bicep and joked that you’d ruin your makeup.

The collective adoration ended when there was a sharp rapping on the door.

“Your carriage awaits, Your Majesties!” A man declared.

Your aunt and mother turned away from the mirror and looked at you. Your mother took your hands in hers and squeezed as she said your name.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

You nodded. “I am.”

Din stood outside the ballroom’s heavy oak doors, shifting his feet and fidgeting with his thumb. Seeing so many kriffing people filing in for his wedding had put him on edge. He’d expected their stares and whispers, but it affected him more than those reactions usually did. Not only that, but he was also doing the unthinkable—he’d left his weapons in his room after his fiancée begged him to, saying her father was uneasy about how it might affect their relations with the kingdom’s subjects. She told him that she hated it as much as he did, but she implored him to do this for her. Weapons were his religion, but she was his goddess, and he would always do her bidding. Thank the Maker the king had told him a few days ago that he could keep the darksaber on his hip.

Greef Karga stood at his side and nudged him with his elbow. Din looked at him and saw the man’s concerned expression.

“Mando, relax,” he urged.

“How am I supposed to relax without my blasters?” Din snapped. He dropped his visor to the ground, nudging the toe of his boot against a crack in the stone. He sighed and clenched his fists. “I’m just…”

When he trailed off, Greef hummed with a smug realization. “The great Mandalorian bounty hunter, best in the Guild and a dragon slayer,” he teased, earning a snap of Din’s helmet in his direction, “is afraid.”

Din’s hands slapped against the side of his thighs, and he groaned. Under the helmet, his cheeks flushed from embarrassment, the tips of his ears burning. Leave it to Greef to see right through him and make him squirm. Din had come to consider the man a friend over the years, and he immediately knew he’d have Greef at his side for the wedding. Of course, the man gave him a wide grin and clapped Din on the arm and then nearly choked on his spotchka when Din told him who his soon-to-be spouse was. He’d also finally told Greef his name; it was only appropriate since he’d agreed to be the best man at his wedding.

“You know, it’s not a bad thing to be nervous, Din.”

Din exhaled, forcing all the air out of his lungs. He hung his helmet down and shrugged. The beskar felt heavier than it ever had before.

He looked at his friend. “I don’t even feel this way when someone’s holding vibroblade against my throat, or when I’m in unarmed in a fight against people who are.”

Greef gave him an understanding smile. “Feeling nervous just means you care.”

Din paused, then nodded. “Maybe you’re right.”

The two men stood next to each other in silence, Din’s thoughts moving at hyperspeed. He had only just managed to capture one when Greef nudged him. Din followed where Greef jerked his head and saw the group of people walking up the wide stone steps to the doors. He saw their carriage drive away as the officiant reached the door, King Stefan and Queen Leah right behind him.

Din had breathed a sigh of relief when his princess told him there’d be no religion involved. She told him he could have another Mandalorian come and say their marriage rites alongside the royal officiant if he wanted. Din had refused; the covert had to stay hidden. Instead, he paid a visit to the Armorer and left her tasked with only one thing that he had to do.

The queen gave him a soft smile, her right arm hooked through Stefan’s left. She motioned for Din to walk over, and he did with shaking knees. They were both lavishly dressed; the queen wore a cape made of golden brocade while the king’s long tunic matched his wife’s purple satin dress, a black cloak with an intricate gold jacquard pattern all over it trailing over his shoulders. Stefan extended his hand and Din shook it. Din was thankful for this distraction from his anxiety, even if it made him feel a bit awkward.

“Din,” the queen said, “I noticed you don’t have any family with you.”

“Just Greef Karga, my…friend.” It was still such a foreign word to him. “The Mandalorian covert I belong to needs to stay hidden.”

“Even for your wedding?” Stefan raised an eyebrow.

“I can’t risk my covert. This is The Way.”

Leah sharply inhaled, her brow furrowing in thought as she looked up at Stefan. “If my husband is fine with it—” she gave Din a tender smile— “I’d like to walk down the aisle with you.”

Din waved his hands. “No, that isn’t—”

“Stefan is walking our daughter down the aisle,” she interjected. “I’d just be alone.”

They both looked at him expectantly. Stefan raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. Now he knew where his bride got her stubbornness from.

Din shook his head and shrugged. “Alright.”

“Good man.” Stefan commented, the threatening demeanor melting away. He kissed Leah’s hand, giving her a warm smile.

Leah walked in front of her husband and Din offered his bent left arm for her to take. She gently guided him to stand off to the right of the doors where they’d be hidden from view when they opened. The officiant directed everyone, her voice commanding and urgent. It reminded him of the Armorer and helped his body and brain settle a bit more. An usher stood across from the wedding party, presumably to direct them inside. Greef shook Din’s shoulder, making him turn around. He couldn’t help but smile at Greef’s encouraging grin, feeling a bit more at ease. Maybe having a friend wasn’t all that bad.

The sound of the doors creaking open into the cathedral made Din’s stomach turn. The officiant walked in immediately after the first note of the opening flourish to what Din assumed was a processional. Not long after, Din walked forward with the queen, his hands clammy under his gloves. The usher motioned them to turn and walk, and Din nearly swore when he saw how far away the altar was. He could barely process anything after he took his first step onto the white carpet running down the altar the officiant was now walking up a few steps to. He kept his eyes straight ahead and focused on the waiting officiant, Leah’s hand occasionally giving the exposed part of his forearm a reassuring squeeze. The music filled his ears and covered the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears. When they reached the base of the four steps leading to the altar, she turned to Din and took his hand in hers, giving him that soft smile his princess gave him.

Din took his place on the right side of the altar, his shaky breaths adding a layer to the music only he could hear. He watched Greef walk down the aisle to prevent his eyes from darting around the crowd. He nodded when his friend took his place at Din’s left side. The processional had become louder, its majestic melody crashing into his bones. Right as strings began to twirl up a scale, a crescendo building, he saw her step into the cathedral.

There was shuffling as the crowd stood and gasps of awe speckling the most triumphant iteration of the melody yet as she walked down the aisle towards him. He felt his throat burn and his eyes tear up, threatening to spill down his cheeks the closer she got. Her dress was soft and highlighted the curves he loved to hold, the color of the fabric perfect on her skin. As she got closer, he noticed the dainty lace flowers on her skirt. He assumed the pattern was also on her sleeves, but he was too focused on her gorgeous shoulders and collarbones to really care about her sleeves. Peli flew behind her, low to the floor, gently grasping her dress’s lengthy train in her tiny hands, but the way it splayed out perfectly behind his bride with little effort from Peli made him think she’d used a little magic, too. His bride’s lips were painted with an affectionate smile that made his heart swell, even if it was muted under a thin veil. The bouquet in her hand was full of white roses, thin, light green strands of tiny leaves spraying down the front and sides. Din swallowed and drank her in, committing the moment to his memory.

As the processional neared its end, Din hurriedly took his gloves off and shoved them in his belt, swearing to himself for nearly forgetting; he’d just been hypnotized by her. She ascended the steps with Stefan, stopping on the last one before the altar. He gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek and placed her right hand in Din’s open left palm.

“Take good care of her,” Stefan said with teary eyes.

Din nodded and Stefan walked back to sit next to Leah. Din and held onto her fingers as she stepped up to the altar and took her place across from him with a nervous smile. Peli quickly splayed out the long train of her dress and veil behind her down the stairs to show off its intricate embroidery, then flew over to take her bouquet before taking her place floating behind his bride. Rustling filled the air after the orchestra’s final note dissipated into the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling, and it was finally time to begin.

The sound of the officiant’s voice faded into the background as he stared at her, his chest warm and knees weak. The tiara she was wearing pointed up under the veil, and he felt a beatific smile split his lips into a grin. Her eyes searched his visor, her face radiant and brightening the room despite the veil. Not sleep nor tulle could dim her glow. She must have sensed his anxiety, because she took his other hand in hers and gave them both a squeeze. It instantly soothed him.

“It’s alright Din,” she whispered under the officiant’s booming voice. “Just breathe, baby.”

He wished she could see the way her words made him melt, how her voice alone forced every iota of tension out of his body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered back, his throat dry and voice wavering.

It was all he could manage, but at least his compliment made her smile even wider. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as she did, then opened her eyes after a few seconds and stared straight into his. Din loved making her flustered just so he could see her cute reaction.

He barely registered anything that didn’t involve him directly touching or speaking to her. All he could see was her. All he could feel was her hands—they were clammy, making him feel better about his sweaty ones. All he could do was stare and let his eyes wander over her so he could sear this moment into his brain and see it clearly for the rest of his life. Din’s heart hammered in his ears as he responded to the vows—saying “I do” just as he’d practiced—and it soared into the sky when she echoed his words.

The officiant looked at Din, flipping a page in her leather-covered book. She cleared her throat before announcing both of their full names.

She continued, “You will now recite the Mandalorian vow together.”

His mouth was suddenly drier than the sands of Tatooine. Din took a deep breath and squeezed her fingers, focusing on her soft smile.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

Din swallowed the thick lump in his throat, his eyes tearing up. The meaning of those words sunk into his soul, lifting it up to the sky with joy at the same time. The Armorer had told him it translated to “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.” He had never felt more certain of something in his life; he meant every word, and his gut told him that she did too.

His chest also swelled with pride; his perfect princess had spoken the Mando’a vow as if she’d been speaking the language her whole life. And somehow, they’d said it in almost perfect unison. Every time they’d practiced—and even at the rehearsal—the timing had been off. The stars must have aligned so this day would go perfectly for them.

When they were given the wedding rings to exchange, Din suddenly felt self-conscious about his hands, and he remembered how large of a crowd had gathered in the massive cathedral. Her magical touch made him forget about it all; her gentle fingers and concentrated eyes grounded him as she slipped the black obsidian band on his ring finger. Her voice was solid and proud as she repeated the officiant’s words for the ring exchange. His hands were shaking as he did the same with her thin, modest band and then the diamond ring he'd proposed to her with. Din hoped his voice wasn’t wavering too much as he spoke. He relaxed when he noticed her chest tremble with a suppressed giggle as he made sure the stone sat perfectly on her finger; she’d told him that she thought his perfectionism was endearing a while ago.

After his last word, he realized the ceremony was over—but there was one last thing to do.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

Din’s shaking hands gently lifted her veil and let it fall back behind her tiara, revealing her face and letting the tiara finally sparkle. She was even more beautiful now without the thin material obstructing his view. She was beaming up at him, her eyes sparkling as much as the tiara’s diamonds. Din bent his head forward and gingerly cupped her jaw in his hands as she placed hers on the side of his helmet, meeting his beskar forehead with her smooth one.

As the crowd cheered and the orchestra began playing a majestic recessional, Din pulled back and turned to face the doors, his princess doing the same. She waved down at her parents, then took her bouquet back from Peli before the fairy quickly took hold of the train and waved her wand to gently lift it mere inches off the ground. Din looked at his wife, offering his open hand; she gently bent her fingers over his, smiling when his fingers curled over hers.

As they made their way down the aisle to jubilant applause, she gave him a quick, smug glance. “I told you it would painless.”

“I think our definitions of pain are very different.”

She rolled her eyes and giggled, and Din clicked his tongue. “Careful, princess, or I’m taking you on a jet pack ride out of here.”

“Thank the Force our carriage is here,” she said as their feet tapped onto the stone steps outside, “because I’d wish you well on that solo flight and meet you in the ballroom for the reception.”

“My wife is so loving,” Din deadpanned.

“And my husband thinks he’s funny,” she retorted with a playful smile.

Din shook his head and held her hand as she stepped into the open-top carriage, waving to the crowd gathered across from the cathedral. Once they were both seated, Din took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes fell on his visor, cheeks split with joy.

“I love you, mesh’la.”

“I love you too, Din.”

The carriage sped off for the castle, a new life waiting for them.

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