Chapter Text
I was unused to the veiled trappings of the gown I now found myself wearing. It seemed such an odd thing, to be thus cloaked in darkness.
“You look…divine.” Golden Seamster Boc declared. He was more than a seamster now, and was bedecked in a velvet green cape and trousers with a matching cap, but this was the title he preferred. After learning to sew, I saw he soon become a master of the golden needle I’d bestowed upon him during my quest to become Elden Lady. As such, I’d assigned him to sew the garments for my wedding. The threads holding the gown and my veil were so fine, they appeared to be nearly invisible, even in the glow of the Erdtree.
I viewed myself in a mirror through the thin black and gilt veil I wore. With my dark skin underneath the veil, I seemed to be a floating shadow even to myself.
“How can a shadow be divine, Boc?” I was perturbed at my queen’s choice of bridal gown for me, but she had insisted. In my country, black worn at a wedding was seen as a sign of bad luck. Red for long lived vitality or white for the purity of the love in the union were the preferred choices. As much as I loved my Goddess, she often made decisions without my approval, and dressing in black had not been my choice.
“Oh forgive me, my Lady!” He bowed, sensing my irritation.
I sighed. My queen was rubbing off on me. “There’s nothing to forgive, Boc. I thank you for your work.”
“Most gracious Elden Lady! I thank you for allowing me the honor of sewing your bridal garb.” He bowed again to me.
Although many had given me their warm regards, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the bows and vivid salutations they gave me. Despite my herculean undertakings, I still considered myself to be a scholar, perhaps eternally. Still, I did my best to be brave. It was all I’d ever done. “Thank you, Boc.”
I left my royal bedchamber, my own room that was separated from Marika, slightly below hers. Outside, my New Order flag flapped in the breeze, emblazoned with the Erdtree encircled by Goldmask’s rune. I’d chosen deep, rich green with sparks of gold as my colors, a far cry from Godfrey’s blue and Radagon’s red. I liked to think I had chosen them well. Green was a long lasting color, and it was a sign of longevity in my native lands. And with Queen Marika as my goddess, her gold in my colors were the first necessity.
My wedding attendants fell into step behind me: Brother Corhyn, now High Priest Corhyn; Lady and Lord of Limgrave and Stormveil Castle, Nephili and Kenneth Haight. They were all dressed in their finest, their robes and armor emblazoned with my crest.
“My Lady, you look magnificent. Truly befitting the Consort of our Grace.” Kenneth Haight extolled my appearance.
“Surely I do not outshine your bride on the day of your union, not so long ago.” I teased.
Nephili snorted. “It was just another day for me. A new fur was good enough.”
The two of them had married for expedience sake. Limgrave and Stormveil needed many hands to restore the glory they once had. I wished the Haights good will. They were not the strongest, but they were the most loyal to the Erdtree who had survived. As such, I had no issue with their rule. I couldn't be everywhere at once, after all, not even as Elden Lady.
“Thank you for coming.”
“It is our duty, my Lady, to see Goldmask’s sacrifice upheld.” The new high priest trembled with emotion, remembering the Tarnished who had made this moment possible. The Lands Between would have had a very different Age if I had not had the option to mend the Elden Ring.
My guards saluted me crisply with their weaponry as I passed them, their golden armor covered with a forest green surcoat. I did not see the point of having guards, considering either me or Marika could best nearly anyone in The Lands Between, but my queen was taking no chances on our wedding day. Indeed, that was wise. I held my weapon concealed in my robes, just in case.
I continued walking until I reached a new set of stairs to a platform that had been built just for this ceremony, a double helix staircase. Queen Marika was already at the other set of stairs. I gawked at her beauty. Instead of her usual black and gold, she was wearing a solid white gown that was made of the same gauzy material as my own dress. Her crown was composed of several hundred threadlike twists of New Order gold she had hand forged herself, and twisted into a dazzling circlet. I remembered the countless hours she’d spent twisting and hammering it while I looked on. The result was a gleaming crown that none but the veiled could look directly at. And the only one veiled was me. While all others would be looking in her direction out of fealty, only I would be able look upon her directly as she intended.