#constellation au

The wedding decorations had been easy to choose, even though the flowers weren’t. Stars tastefully littered the dining hall, sparkling silver paper practically glowing from their spots, hanging from the ceiling with clear blue strings. Smaller bits of paper- tiny, glittering suns- scattered across sky blue tablecloths. Dark blue ribbons etched with silver intertwined with golden ribbons etched with a lighter, softer blue. Night and day mixing.

Eventually the flowers were chosen. Snowdrops. White blossoms, bowing their heads. They hung down softly from their vases spaced five chairs apart on the tables.

Everything was beautiful. But there was still more to be done.

Between both brides, they were pretty sure Donald was the one freaking out the most. He'd pace back and forth, almost fighting with Scrooge about the difference between whites and blues and yellows. Even with everything she'd seen in her travels. All the beautiful colours that swirled like a kaleidoscope in her memory, it was likely she hadn't realized till then there were so many intricacies for such simple colours. Della didn't really understand it. A mind for colour wasn't something she'd ever had. Although apparently both Donald and Scrooge did, the way they were talking about ‘cotton white’ and ‘sunshine yellow’ and ‘artic blue’ and ‘amber’ and ‘lace’ and ‘sky’ and quite frankly one could lose their mind in it. It would be a lie to say Selene wasn’t also concerned with the colours. But she didn’t lose herself as badly as them.

Della fell into the seat beside Selene with a sigh. “Have they picked a yellow for our wedding?”

“Not yet, but they have it narrowed down to three,” Selene answered.

“You’d think they were the ones getting married,” Della said, getting a short laugh out of Selene.

She elbowed her fiancé gently in the shoulder. “You’re Scrooge’s first kid to get married and Donald’s baby sister, give them a break.”

Della rolled her eyes, groaning and slinking down in her seat. “But it’s not this serious! I told you we should’ve just eloped.”

“And miss this?” Selene smiled. “Nope. Plus I think Scrooge would’ve actually killed me if I had taken this from him. Remember what he said when we finally told him we were dating?”

“Yeah,” Della said with her own laugh. “I’m still not sure if he was bluffing or he really did find something that could kill you.”

Selene threaded her fingers through Della’s and kissed her temple. “I for one plan to never find out.”

“Wimp,” Della teased. She tilted her head up and kissed Selene soundly on the beak when she looked down. “I'll protect you.”

“My hero.” Selene smiled, her forehead against Della’s. With a matching teasing grin Della bumped her beak against Selene’s.

“You two!” Scrooge’s voice called and they separated with a sigh. “Which one?” He held out two swatches of yellow with Donald holding out the third.

Expression morphed into a frown, Della looked at Selene.

The vows weren't kept on paper. They were kept in the minds of the women who spoke them, a bit messy and staggering but all of it confident and true. Words of proclamation they'd already spoken and promises once whispered between each other in quiet moments now respoken in front of a small audience, no less sincere.

No less adoring.

Their bodies were kept close and when they kissed, their foreheads stayed together a few moments longer. Only breaking away when Fethry announced them as wives. Both turned toward the small crowd gathered, their hands held together. It wouldn’t be until later that anyone realized that was the first time either girl had looked away from the other since Della walked in on Scrooge’s arm.

Festivities are had after and both wives-the term so new their twin smiles burn like a binary star every time someone says it, every time they think it- sneak out soon after the cake is shared. They lead each other up a hill far away from the laughter of the others and Storkules’ loud voice. Far from the artificial lights.

Here the night is warm and the grass is chilled. Fireflies flicker simultaneously far from their reach and right next to them. They sit close. Not even an inch separates them where they lie near the peak of the hill. The night is quiet. And the sky is bright. It’s late enough that it shows like a painting, thousands of stars clustered together. For a long while they stare up at it in shared silence. Until Selene broke it. She stretched out a hand to the many galaxies in front of them. To the dust clouds and the exploding stars; the nebulas and binary systems, and all seemed to glow as one. “All of it,” Selene spoke quiet as the gentle night breeze.

“What?” Della whispered back. Just as still. Just as quiet.

“Every star you can see,” Selene replied. Her voice was steady, her volume consistent. “And every one you can't. All of them are yours; I promise them to you. As my wedding gift.”

Della’s heart stuttered and her breath caught. “Selene,” her tone was more reverent in the chill than it had ever been. “You don't- You can't. Not to me.”

“They're mine to give, mine to share, and I want to with you.” Selene took Della’s hand in hers and squeezed. “I always have, ever since your family’s plane crashed on the island.”

“Thank you.” The words are watery. Between one blink and the next Della kisses Selene. It’s gentle and deep; hard and chaste; a breathing contradiction. When Della pulls back the stars shine in teary eyes. A hand cupped Selene’s cheek. Della searched her wife’s eyes as she uncharacteristically hesitated. “I- That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done, I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I promise you I won’t make you regret it.”

“You never could,” Selene replied simply, a hand over the one on her cheek.