This two-shot will be the last for my fanfiction life. I am afraid I cannot see myself continuing to update this profile or any of my stories any longer. Adult life has grown me to become idle with my fandoms. As much as I wanna freeze time and do what a fangirl does, that I cannot promise to commit. However, I am entirely grateful to all my readers. Even though I never seem to improve in my skills, you guys have inspired me to write.
Note: This is an alternate ending. The last death will be Crayton's. (so anyone who died after him are still alive here) I would also recommend reading up to The Fall of Five because I am not going to be doing expositions to explain and catch you up.
Aside from celebrating the release of United as One, I hope as this last project I'll be making will be the best. And yes, of course, it is a wedding scene.
Disclaimer: I do not, will never, own Lorien Legacies. Credits belong to Pittacus Lore.
No one will attack here.
I had not realized how nerve-wracking weddings are. But that changed as the music started playing; the ceremony starting. The quartet's music just filled my ears with glee as Six and the others started walking down the petal-filled aisle. Lucky for me, they have pulled some strings to set up in one of the beaches in Tenerife.
"Are you ready?" John asked. I tilted my head to reply with a smile. He had grown taller throughout the years it was practically worth giggling for.
John grabbed my arm and intertwined it with his. "Did I forget to tell you it is beyond my honor to walk you down the aisle?"
I stifle a laugh as it was our cue to walk together. If he only knew… "Nine wanted a different role," I quipped.
"I'll just ignore I wasn't the first choice," John whispered to me. His hand squeezed mine a little that made me momentarily forget about my concerns. It was a good thing John noticed it before anyone else. "And don't worry, it is all over. We are safe."
Sometimes, I pray, beg to be precise, that will always remain true.
No more war. No more hiding. No more fear.
He has to be right.
I scanned the guests. Many of them were our companions in the war. I nod and smile to some of them. Then to the people who have always been with us, I waved. Six, Ella, Sarah, and Daniella look lovely in their dresses. Adam, Sam, and Malcolm looked great in their formal attires. I got a close glimpse of Sarah shedding a tear and with John passing her a meaningful look. Then, Six, apparently, our Best person, was smirking, gesturing subtly at the groom.
As we locked eyes, I lost my breath. Eight, with the minister, was beginning to smile at me. The suit fitted him wonderfully, looking classically handsome. Even without blush on, and maybe because of the amazing build up of the music, I am certain that my cheeks are warmer and redder at this moment. But it was not his famous disarming grin that made me delirious with happiness; it was his beautiful ever-glinting eyes. As they have matured, the tiny wrinkles at the sides made it more lovable, (if it was possible) the orbs that projected Eight's beauty, intelligence and love. Whatever reason it is, I just feel gravitated to Eight. Just appreciating my friend, my boyfriend, my fiancée, my soon-to-be-husband, makes me feel weak in the knees, and yet I am so, oh so, alive.
Nearing the altar and never breaking eye-contact, I grabbed a fistful of my gown. John patted my arm before linking them to Eight's. "Take care of her, Eight."
It was expected for my jester garde to laugh at that statement, but he settled for a comedic sigh. "Geez, John! You really are the Dad of the group."
No way, I couldn't giggle at this.
"But seriously," Eight said as he bro-hugged John, "thank you."
As John proceeded to his place next to Sam, arm-in-arm, Eight and I walked up to the altar. We even sneaked whispers of how marvelous we look today (at least in my part, Eight's adjectives made my blood rush to my face).
The minister flashed us a crooked grin. Dressed in a dashing suit and a scarf that was too colorful for his taste, Nine cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved, we are here gathered today to share with Eight and Marina an important moment in their lives. I have never been married but I asked to be ordained for this reason (begged if I should reflect the truth). Ladies and gentlemen, the last few years were difficult and I am not just saying our own personal lives, but the world's. Together we stand through all the warfare, the sacrifices, and worries. We braved the hardships and just like this couple before me, we deserve a lifetime of companionship, happiness, and love. Their love is so pure and strong that even at the face of death, they conquered it. (Literally, Nine would've added if it wasn't already projected on his face.)
"Love and commitment, what is it?" Our minister placed a hand on our shoulders. "I'd answer Marina and Eight."
I could hear some people awing. If I wasn't mistaken, I swore a sniff was oddly familiar; it must have been from one of the guys.
"Pals," Nine said, "your vows."
"Marina," Eight started with a smile, still holding my hand. "Standing before Mr. Minister," He eyed Nine as if thanking him before continuing, "made me recall the only reason why I am here. It was the same reason why I wanted you to be my friend."
This bubbling sensation inside me that was building up since this wedding had started wanted to burst out. At just that, I had to let out a short laugh to prevent myself from making an awkward scene.
Eight wasn't at his funny side today. He looked at me with his loving eyes, and it is making me melt inside.
Every. Single. Time.
"People said it might be difficult, it is." His voice cracked. "But oh dear Lore I just love you." He squeezed my hands with concentrated affection that must've been accumulating ever since he started loving me. Oh, my Lorien. The memories—happy or sad— are shooting arrows before my mind.
"I remember giving myself encouragement. And believe me," he laughed. "Staying sane is a trouble when I am with you those days because we have this tragic life or the possibility of a bleak future. Furthermore, it was beyond acceptance that we had to endure hardships and relentless loss…" He paused.
He hadn't said, but I know who he meant.
"But that didn't stop me, aside from trying to save the world from downfall, I wanted you. I want to experience life with you, live with you, wherever you want to be, I will be with you. And if I ever become your boyfriend, then my dream is to marry you. That way, I can never break my promise. You have been my best friend, my family and perfectly my other half. I am so lucky to have you, Marina." His eyes turned watery, like a leaf having dew. "I love you. I have no idea why but I know how much." He wiped a tear. "Think whatever meter or scale you want to rate my love for you, whatever score is given, I am pretty sure, my love for you is far greater." A tear came rolling down from his eye and it was contagious. "Because it would kill me if I can't give more than I already have."
And he did. Eight came back.
He returned to me. Alive and well.
I grab hold onto his other hand, swaying them a little, squeezing them meaningfully. I am not sure if I can hold myself together throughout the speech without breaking down.
"Eight, I never believed in soulmates," I confessed. From that, I notice my voice cracked and my eyes stung. "I, for certainly, know the concept is completely bizarre. I have heard and read many articles about how scientifically supported romantic love is. People could fall in love when they have synced commonalities or have personality clashes that actually balanced the opposing forces. I can even see a pattern about how it could blossom. So many stories they say, so many twists and turns, but hey, these are clichés! Just fairy tales. A figment of imagination." Then just like that, I placed my hands on each side of his face and I smiled. "I thought a love like that was petty to pursue. This was troublesome for me to handle, and I prefer no drama. I mean we were always on a run, in a middle of a war. You can't even give 1% just to focus on crushes." He could've laughed if he wanted to but he smiled, amusement dancing on his lips.
I placed my forehead against his. "You know that." He leaned his forehead towards mine as a response. "I thought I had my final decision, Eight."
Eight burst out a half-chuckle, knowing where my speech is going.
I remembered him suddenly alive before me. That overwhelming emotion is like a ticking time bomb and the burst is so impactful.
"But you," I said fighting the tremble in my lips, "you made the whole darn thing real and magical."
A half- sob escaped, "and I love where I am, where I will be and I love you for the rest of my life. Thank you for making me happy."
Eight let another tear drop, but took the pause as an opportunity not wipe the proof of overwhelming emotion, but to mouth, 'I love you,' to me.
"So let me do the same for you."
Our little moment could've gone forever when I heard a sob to my left. Eight and I turn to see Nine; his eyes slightly red and half-way of stashing his handkerchief in his pocket. Before Eight or I could have made a comment on this rare happening, our audience, some of them, burst out sobs or chuckles at us. A few even clapped that we faced them with bashfulness.
Nine coughed and while everyone actually gathered that our tough minister had shed a tear, they teased him. "Okay, okay. This was an event I looked forward to.
"Moving on, Eight," he continued. "Do you take Marina as your wife?"
Eight kept rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand before replying with a savory tone, "I do."
"Yeah, you do," Nine said, almost squealing. Then he just coughed before moving on to ask me. "Marina, do you take Eight to be your husband?"
When I am about to speak out, Nine was practically stifling his smile, ecstatic for my reply. Just then, I want to hug him. I remembered how I had a small grudge at him after Everglades but it turned out Nine was the one who help me through the times when Eight was 'dead'. He didn't comfort me like how John or Six did, but Nine had shown me to grieve and eventually fought on with the war. And our actions were rewarded when Eight was dreamt to be awake in the Mogs' custody. Nine personally helped me with the rescue mission.
"I do," I said, clearly amused by his pleased reaction.
"Rings, please," Nine coughed, looking at our Best person. Immediately, Six, with a smug grin on her face, gave our minister the rings. "Thank you—"
"Best person," she inserted while moving back to her seat.
"Yes, Six," Nine half-acknowledged it. He gave us each of the rings and then, Eight and I exchanged rings after that.
"And by the power invested in me by Pittacus Lore, and Lorien, I am proud to pronounce you husband and wife!
"You may kiss the bride, dude!"
Eight, at first, was bewildered by Nine's excited tone. But then, he collected himself and faced me. I brought my free arm to his neck. As if we were synched, he placed his arms to wrap me. In one swift motion, he dipped me, kissing me with so much passion that I dropped my bouquet to wrap my arms around him as well.
I hear cheers all around us, but I didn't care. I love how it feels to seal this marriage with Eight's kiss.
So if any of you are wondering. Why is John giving away Marina, like a dad, to Eight instead of Malcolm, who is older and, you know, technically a father? So my answer there is that John was more of the father figure of the group and that Marina personally had looked up to John and Nine. She and Malcolm in the series so far had little connection IMO. It felt real to me if John gave her away/escorted her and for Nine to be the minister.
For how Eight became alive? You can use the connection of Eight's resurrection in my other one-shots. You can use the ones from "Guilt to death" or "Happiness like that"
As for Nine declaring the marriage and his legality as a minister may somehow feel off. I mean Earth basically is the new Lorien so yeah, his powers came from there. Whatever. They are married in this two-shot.
The next one will be posted, I hope, sooner. Just till then, thank you and please review. XO