#salamandrian

Mona looks so impressed.

… That doesn’t really surprise Raph.

It makes him proud, of course, maybe prouder than he’s ever felt. She’s looking at him the same way she had when he’d defeated the ice monster for her, back on Thalos. Taking in the scene before her, caught off guard and a bit dazed but... not alarmed. Intrigued. Charmed, even.

Raph thinks it’s his favorite look, on her. He’ll do anything to see it directed at him, case in point.

Given that he’s absolutely covered in bruises and soot, recovering from a gnarly hangover, and has Dregg’s slimy neck tucked quite securely in a sleeper hold, Raph’s also pretty impressed that he’s still standing. Besides the Jell-O shots the night before though, it’d seem like a pretty standard victory.

What’s currently sending him into shock is the dress.

“You didn’t have to—“

“It seemed fitting,” she cuts him off, stepping closer and smoothing down the satin. “A custom for a custom.” Her eyes twinkle while she looks over his shoulder. “And April insisted.”

Raph follows her gaze and sees the redhead flash two thumbs-up. It makes her nearly lose her grip on Donnie, who looks about ready to eat gravel again. On her other side, Casey wolf-whistles, the idiot. He’s barely able to keep upright, but Jager will do that to a guy, and Raph can’t find it in himself to feel bad. This whole bachelor party shit show had been his idea to begin with.

(In a roundabout way, he’s also responsible for the wedding gift currently hogtied and grousing on the ground in front of them. Raph can’t decide whether he wants to thank him or smack him. He’ll decide later.)

“You like it,” Mona guesses, and Raph whips his head back to face her.

“You’re beautiful,” is all he breathes back. Her head dips, a pleased grin on her face.

“On with the show, kids!” Mikey gabs from far-off. Leo’s next to him, shushing him and nursing his own migraine, boa still in place from the night before. Raph… can’t recall where he’d gotten that, or where Mikey had found the god-awful hat.

There’s several unanswered questions from last night. He can’t bring himself to care about any of them, because Sal’s unfolding the ceremonial shawl, and Mona’s in a dress, and Raph gets to be the one she’s smiling at.

He never thought he’d want a wife, much less a wedding. The typical ceremonial hoops to jump through never appealed in the least to him. Maybe that was why this whole Salamandrian tradition had fallen into place so naturally. Mona had barely been able to grasp the concept of earth marriages when he’d tried to explain them, and Raph was best at proving his worth in battle, not writing sappy vows. This seemed like a better promise to her anyway, and he’d take down a thousand more evil overlords for her, if she asked.

The second sun is peaking up over the battlefield, coating the valley in warmth. Mona grasps her sword in one hand and cups his jaw in the other while Sal recites the holds of partnership. Her thumb idly soothes over the bruising there.

Raph never wanted any of this before, but it seems inevitable now, that he’s here with her. It was written in stone from the first time she’d knocked him off his feet.

“Raphael,” she murmurs when Sal prompts her. “I will live out my days, fighting at your side.”

Raph’s chest swells. He gives her his final gift. “Y’Gythba,” he carefully pronounces, and watches another impressed smile bloom. “I will protect you, with all I have.”

“You’re all sickening,” Dregg grumbles, from his place in the dirt.