Wedding Guests

this event is future-dated for june 8th! the first round will be for Setemhotep Sitamun Sapair Khaemwaset (no posting order) and then will be open to all! Eset Batu Henuttawy @Lihua Haiyan Lèzǐ Quinlong Shēnléi @Kèshàn Ruadhán Ye Lanyi @Pheonix Rising Aiesha Ashait Lian Mekh Kirain Elisabet Yuè Machiavelli Stardust El'Zeath Safiya I Lykaon Layre Tatsuhime Myrrh Mesen-ka Khatar Ra . those participating in the mixer will find their prompts and partners posted: here!

guests: expect that your lodgings have already been set up at the palace! feel free to tag each other as well if there are traveling parties!

after the noted characters have had a chance to respond in this first round, please feel free to make one reaction post with your own or break into wedding party threads! we encourage you to mark your threads with 'wp' somewhere in the title, for tracking and fun!

(lily, frankincense, desert date) (fermented pomegranate, honey mead, spring water) (spiced duck, mutton, goose with fat, sweet figs)

Scarcely has there come a day more cherished in the heart of the queen, who had risen long before Re's own ascent to oversee the final touches of the ceremony. The servants had meticulously cleansed the grand hall, the marbled floors, it’s carved colonnades which led to a limestone dais, all scrubbed to a mirror glisten. Fresh flowers were placed in enormous arrangements of azure, delineating the aisle and altar, while wide-leaf palms and sycamore transformed the main room into a garden of delights. Seating areas were laid with tanned antelope skins and braziers lit the chambers with crimson of the eternal flame, and later a sumptuous meal would be lain in the banquet hall.

The evening held a magic, and even moreso as their guests filtered in to fill the room with gifts and anticipatory chatter. It was essential to the Pharaoh and queen that rulers of political allies, and those with the potential to become so, receive invitations. Neith herself had welcomed each one the day prior, ensuring fellahin escorted them to the palace citadel where immaculate quarters stood ready to receive.

It was as though all of nature was aware of the joy of the occasion, and contributed wholeheartedly to it, clearing clouds with the dawn and dropping winds to a sedate zephyr. There was only one lingering concern which could cast a pall over the festivities, but Merneith did not think her sister would spread scorn; not on this day.

As sunset hour approached so the music became louder, the singers’ voices blending as rainfall from the heavens. Neith moved to a position upon the dais, the gold silk shift breezing over her spine and tail. She had sequestered the bride away in her own chambers all day, supervising as fellahin smoothed every fur and lathed her paws in sea salt, painted her legs in henna. Sitamun was draped in ivory silks and shimmering malachite dust, her steel eyes accented with kohl markings. As a wedding gift, Merneith gave a blue-green string of jewels set in gold to her handmaiden, recovered from the depths of the palatial catacombs and placed delicately at her crown. One of the many virtues the fellahin evinced was to be seeming unaware of just how splendorous her appearance was. Neith anticipated watching those who crowded around her to bask in the bride’s beauty.

This marriage marked a new beginning for Sitamun, and though she felt the close of one passage, another had been opened for her most beloved attendant. Neith stands in the shafts of gold light, looking beside her to Setemhotep, suspecting the seer shares her bittersweet sentiments.

Then as golden hour strikes, a sudden silence so complete and shocking to the ear overwhelms the grand hall. A soloist’s voice lifts into the air, and the queen looks eagerly down the aisle.

Six and a half years had Sapair been a bachelor.
He had known women all his life. Concubines, nursemaids, dancers, slaves. Wives in loveless marriages.
In the nubian outpost where he spent his youth, concubines and slaves warmed the hearths of servicemen. Children came and went through the courtyards in such numbers that a man could scarcely keep count of every face that carried his blood. Sapair himself had fathered many. Some he remembered. Others he’d never meet.
Yet for all of that, he had never had a wife.
The thought sat strangely upon his shoulders as he moved about that day. Sitamun was young enough that he sometimes feared she would wake one morning and realize the absurdity of it all. And his mouth softened despite it.
Not once had he stood before gods and kingdom and pledged himself to a single woman. Never had he chosen one soul above all others and said: you alone. He knew how to command soldiers and govern discipline. He knew how to sire children.
Now he would learn to be a husband.
Stepping into the gilt hall, jodai was reminded that this day was also a matter of high state. The palace filled with foreign leaders and figureheads. Gifts heaped high. He strode to take his place before the altar, cursory glances taken to royals and the presiding seer.
Then he turned to face the threshold where Sitamun was secreted, struck by a nerve which chased the thrumming beat of his heart.

sitamun had never envisioned herself as a wife. it was a common enough practice, to give a youngest child unto a temple where they would be assured food, a trade, but few memories of home. her own had blurred to little. but once she had possessed a mother and a father, and surely a girlish dream of marriage, once upon a time.
it seemed that magick was to be restored.
their Great Royal Wife had worked ceaselessly. each blossom, each decoration, each alignment of aesthetic delight had been wrought by tireless royal decree. fresh fragrances filled the hall, transforming even the adjacent rooms into a tranquil garden tableau. deep blue dazzled her eyes, which had become misted once more with salt.
nothing seemed to exhaust merneith these days, for she had stayed awake through many hours for their emissaries, while sitamun herself had been ensconced in the baths, over and again, every particle of servile dirt removed until her claws could not remember anything more than gleaming.
her inhabitance for these last hours had been the ornate rooms of the queen herself, and she had blushed to be so attended. the day was spent in luxuries for the bride; sitamun was unable to shake the bite of awkwardness as each hair was put into place, as her paws were chafed with smoothing salve, as her limbs were beautified. a princess she felt, fighting delight for the sake of humility.
only when the draperies came did she break, this ascension of love and devotion she felt for the young ruler in this moment.
she was resplendent upon their dais, gold overlaid with gold, punctuated by silver and the radiant garnet of blessed eye.
those stones in gilded set rested now above sitamun's galloping heartbeat; she laughed and spoke her way through social seconds but each brought a new flutter for her nerves.
music.
she was left alone in the moment, and it was given to sapair entire, dais and court and even divine visage falling away as she gazed upon him, her heart sundered by joy and leaping with anticipation.

In Satriya, pursuit of perfection was a godly thing. Orderliness did show the favour of the gods while assuring their stability in kind, and so, Merneith had proven godliness again in the grand affair which now was gifted to Sitamun and Sapair.

Divine light shone happily upon the pair, and Hotep had prepared many invocations to assure them healthy, fruitful lives together from this day until their last.

He considered it a high honour to have been asked to preside. Groomed, oiled, and perfumed to a fine sheen, High Priest stood centered behind Sapair in star-speckled leopardskin. Hotep's voice raised with the others in hymn as Sitamun came forward, radiant.

There was the joy of the bride, which warmed his heart, and the apprehension of the groom, which Hotep believed proper — so it was no sin to be amused by the grizzled warrior's newfound humility.

Welcome, all who have come to celebrate this blessed union, he announced as song faded, and all eyes affixed to the dias. We lift them up before gods and mortals as blue lotuses, that bloom which is perfect and joyous to behold. Our hearts are light with the promise of a bond that transcends!

Against the ear of each, he placed just such a blossom. Later, they could be set in the sacred pool of the temple to float as offerings, in gratitude for what had been given.

Then smiled warmly at them both. Favoured servants of Pharaoh and Queen, today, you create a house of your own.

This was marriage in Egypt! Grg Pr — to make a house. It would be theirs, for all the rest of their days if they wished.

May Ra shine upon it and bless you with long years. His light warmed the chamber.

May Hathor bring you pleasure. She had done this already, if coarser rumours were to be believed. Hotep placed a string of her prayer beads on each of their shoulders, woven by Rakhufu.

May Heqet make you fruitful. He scattered dried wheat grain about their feet.

And should you ever be lost, may Khonsu guide you always to rest at the threshold of this door — the home your love has made for you both.

Arms spreading, Hotep leaned back on his heels, motioning for them to turn and face the crowd as bonded souls. If they had vows to claim or gestures to make, before one another and all gathered, they might do so now.

Gold of adornments caught torchlight. Jodai stood, world narrowing. Aware suddenly of every scar crossing the aged body, and all the years etched into his face, while across the aisle white linen flowed about gracefully proceeding limbs. Choosing him.
Very few of the arriving guests had ever laid eyes on Sitamun, and although they must have been apprised of her beauty, none would be prepared for its actuality. In her last few moments of maidenhood, the realization was still foreign: that he loved her. And if such a god as Hathor existed, Sapair beseeched then: let me be worthy.
No restraint is met with the aureate smile, the captain's grin climbing slowly, and with it eyes given to their indulgent examination.
“Goddess,” a whispering is for her ear over the seer’s petitions. “I am your’s, eternally.”
And Sitamun became his wife.

heart raced, fleet as the denizens of the desert. here, the penultimate seconds before High Priest bound them as one.
dizzily now; would sapair quail at the reality? she should not think it of him, even as her stomach churned with volcanic heat and drenching cold, back and forth, until the bride was near sickened by anticipation.
her eyes could only behold him, each detail of the war-marked face she had already come to love.
blue lotuses; and her eyes filled with happiest salt.
a house of their own.
each blessing of setemhotep resounded in the heart of sitamun, and she bit the inside of her jaw to keep from weeping. not yet! not yet -- she affixed her joyous gaze to that of her beloved and let out her breath in an exhale at his words.
named goddess among these deities.
the beads at her shoulder, she would ensure they hung there all night until sapair himself removed them.
the wheat grains brought to memory those fertile lands from which they had both come.
and Khonsu over all.
sitamun drew a shaking breath. you are my stars and my firmament. i am yours and you, sapair, are mine.
and he became her husband.

many moments formed the sum of khaemwaset's illustrious young life. but few of these put him to mind of both past and present as a wedding. his sister once proved herself as diplomat before a single word, ensuring that no comfort was spared for the night to come.
but more than this, her love for sitamun was clear. to be loved by a queen was no small feat, and Horus held hope that they maintained their bond.
many moments. khaemwaset received guests for a day now, though he had deferred to the Great Royal Wife in all things. this included the freeing of their sister from her pretty detainment. no word to be warned. no threat given. satakhetem understood what she stood to lose.
and so he would not think of it.
a circle of the room. Horus and Divine Wife upon the dais as music found undulating crescendo.
sitamun was indeed beautiful, but it was with a purity of heart that pharaoh found himself appreciative. flower-radiance surrounding, suffusing. he watched how she and sapair looked upon one another; he turned his head once to catch merneith's eye, and then piety made him solemn in setemhotep's wake.
Ra. Hathor. Heqet. Khonsu.
his eyes stung, and when it was time to stand with cheering, his voice was raised high in pride for both sitamun and setemhotep.

If the audience is enraptured, she is even more so. Face searching, as always it will for Khaem, heart in her eyes when she finds him glimpsing back.

Brother, who has always seen into the cracks of the world.

He must know—!

And Neith falls in love this night. Not only with Khaemwaset, but with this ceremonial act itself.

She watches with open orange eyes, curious with every moment. It was a joyous occasion, and truly a sight to be seen. She had not seen so many faces in so long, and slowly memories of faces past came…just a quick glimpse before being shut away by the darkness once again.

Satriya was lit up with excitement. El’Zeath somewhat kept to herself, watching carefully. She may have been brought here by the flame…but she still very much feels an outsider. Not by any fault of the Satriyans…just by the nature of things. A culture so very rich, but so very dense. And it was not hers. She thought she would never truly understand and fit in, but only time will tell.

El’Zeath ensured she is well kept this day. She keeps where she needs to be for the ceremony, and watches with great interest. She did not know those who are getting married, but there is always joy in a union. Hotep speaks with great wonder. The adornments were stunning, and her feather necklace seemed to pale in comparison. But she did not allow comparison to bring doubt. She simply enjoyed.

| skill

Since they first began the trek down to Satriya, Lian has not known peace until this moment - seated and attentive to the ceremony binding the happy couple into eternal partnership.

Since being tucked into her designated chambers, the princess has been scrubbed until limbs gleam and any evidence of the journey disappeared. Her fur combed, perfumed with rare jasmine oils and persimmon blossom, tugged this way and that until it frames her divine features just so. Flowers and a spare piece or two of jade finery were pinned to her pelt. Nothing could be out of place or anything less than a shining example of her people's riches, of their divine ordainment, of the dragon's blood shining in her veins.

It was almost more theater than anything, hard work all done for the betterment of her own. Lian sits silently amongst the Satriyans' own set pieces - lotus flower decorations, incense thick on the air, a priest's voice echoing off the stone halls to summon a sense of awe and reverence within the audience. Lian knows the game of politics well, and she should - and does - see the underpinnings of showmanship in her own decorum and that which she stares at, dazzled. Even so, she can see too the care and affection that has gone into every detail. Not a single one dares to bring disharmony to the proceedings. Lian honors the Satriyans' welcome, their invitation into this once-in-a-lifetime moment, with her own adornments and her careful presentation.

Sapair, the copper jodai who Lian has met before is wed to his lovely wife. She is a slender woman, gilded in fiery sunset gold, and she looks not at the audience, not at her rulers; she has only eyes for that which she loves.

The preening and polite conversation and diplomatic posturing is nothing, Lian thinks. It pales in such comparison to that which occurs before her, and Lian, convinced to the darkest depths of her heart that such a devotion is unobtainable for herself, feels immeasurably blessed to be given the role of observer and celebrant.