OOC: Backdated a few days before the wedding!


The date was getting ever closer and he was feeling like a total mess. The decorations were being put in place at the chosen location, the meals all prepared for the party afterwards, the list went on. Yet the groom to be was a nervous wreck. What if she took off at the last second? What if there was a wedding crasher? So many questions and thoughts ran through his head, all of them utterly ridiculous. N​ó​ttin of course knew that Dalmatia absolutely loved him, that they were destined for one another. All the man wanted was to get it over with and shower her in every form of affection possible.

A heat spread over his face at the thought of their honeymoon, the possibility of pups always crossing his mind. Would he even make a good father? Again, Dalmatia thought so, almost constantly reassuring him. But on this day, the one he sought the most for advice and for their approval was his sister. Not to mention the big question he had already planned on asking Sol. Walking through the forest trails beneath the mountain, N​ó​ttin called for her, waiting for the Black Sun to meet the Night of The North. Ever faithful, ever loving. Such was the way of the sable frá Norðri.

Sólúlfur

She had been...not quite absent. But close to it. After a year of the weight of the world building to a suffocating crescendo, Solulfur had yet to learn how to breathe without its vice grip. Every third thought no longer devoted to the plague or the cold or the runes. Every other dream plagued by the ominous presence she'd despised for so long, yet come to know so personally. Spring washed the land clean of the marks of its tragedies, fissures and rune-lines disappearing, the Isle halting its pacing. But Solulfur remembered. Could not forget.

And with the return to spring and the world setting itself right, Solvi. Solvi and Shiloh, both! Fitting back into their places in Dawnbreak's tapestry, yet there was something unmistakably changed about their return, too. For all her grief at Solvi's disappearance, Solulfur found it difficult to return to things as they had been. There was a part of her waiting, waiting for some haunting admission or another disappearance, like her father had pulled.

Solulfur kept to herself, haunted the peaks of the Vale like some golden-eyed, speechless spectre. After a year of her strings being yanked on by forces far outside her control, it felt exhausting to even glimpse the strings hidden within every conversation, every glance or glower, and so Solulfur avoided them entirely for a time. The only detail she kept her ear to the ground on was her brother's approaching wedding. That was a detail she could not let slip through her teeth.

Solulfur was doing...better, at least. Enough that when her brother's call rang out through the pines, she felt fond instead of hunted. She met him on the trail, falling into step with a bob of her chin as greeting. Friendly enough, although notably subdued for Solulfur. He looked nervous, she thought, but it was hard to tell. He'd grown into a fine sense of composure. A man worthy of the best of their weighty, complicated legacies.

She could not tell him, alas. Afi forbid any sibling of hers have a bigger ego than Solulfur herself, no, no.

Without missing a single beat, Sólúlfur came bounding over to answer his call. She met him with her usual easy stride, joining him side by side as they walked along the pine scented trail. He was glad to see her, the only blood family he had left. Nothing would ever come between them again, nothing would ever take her from him again. N​ó​ttin would make sure of that. A kind smile left his lips, blue eyes alight with a friendly glow saved only for his sibling.

Hey Sol. I wanted to talk to you about the big day. If there was a special task I could ask of you. It wasn't often that he would ask something of her, or anyone from his family for that matter. Always the more independent child, N​ó​ttin had rarely ever sought out any kind of attention or affections. But would gladly take it if the opportunity presented itself. Much like it did now.

With the wedding come up, I had though over who I would want to give me away. To be the one at my side when it was time for me to wed. I could think of no one better suited then you, my dear sister. Would you do me the honor? Straight to the point this time, hoping that she would not think the idea silly or nonsense. It was something that was greatly important to him, to have her there in every aspect of his life. And this would be no different. He only hoped that she would see it the same way as he did.

A big ask for the big day - Nottin leapt straight for the crux of the matter. Solulfur responded with a militant focus - pricked ears, a rigidly straightened spine - as she prepared to decimate whatever obstacle her poor sibling had encountered in his preparations. There would be no doubt and no tripping hazards. Only a perfect day to celebrate the fra Nordri and his union with his beloved. Solulfur's opinion of love was jaded, to say the least. But this jadedness had perhaps given her more of an appreciation for things like this. Nottin and Dalmatia had persevered through many trials, and their bond seemed both unshakeable and true. They deserved each other, and they deserved for their commitment to be celebrated. Solulfur would see this wedding come to fruition seamlessly.

There was no problem to be solved, though. Only Nottin, asking if she would stand by him during the ceremony. Solulfur's obsidian features softened slightly, gilt gaze warming like the sun peering between the clouds. Of course, Nottin. I will be right beside you. He need not even ask! For there was no chance she would refuse. But she still appreciated that he had.

A pause. The siblings walked in silence, the wind sighing through the pine needles, their pawpads grinding gravel and small branches into the earth with each step. I am...proud of you, bróðir. Solulfur let her gaze wander, trail over the scenery as she hand-picked each word. You have made much of yourself, and for yourself.

The siblings walked together in perfect unison, always seeming to understand each other far beyond anyone else's comprehension. So when he heard his sister absolutely happy to be at his side, to walk with him and give him away at the wedding, he could see it in her eyes how happy that made her. What N​ó​ttin hadn't expected, was the compliment that came right afterwards.

A show of affection that would never go unnoticed by the softer sibling. Þakka þér, systir. Ég gæti ekki gert þetta án þín. His gaze grew even softer, a gentle wag of his tail followed behind him as the pair continued to walk. Do you think that móðir would be proud of me? A single memory of Hafis entered his mind, wondering what she would think of him. What she would say if she could be here.