#septyrah

“Alright, we’re going to start again, from the top!” Lucy Gringe’s voice bellowed through the Castle ballroom. “Focus on the tempo this time around, about half of you started to get off beat last time.”

Septimus looked around at the other couples in the room, positive he and Syrah were part of that half Lucy spoke of. They’d been at it for 3 hours, yet they could only manage about 6 counts before something went wrong.

“Okay, face your partner. We’ve only got about 10 minutes left, so Simon and I are going to be watching very closely. Bow to your partner.”

He turned to his dance partner, but Syrah was still nervously looking at Lucy. He was grateful, at least, that he was paired with someone who seemed equally uncomfortable dancing as he was. It would have been embarrassing to be with a bridesmaid who was really good, but was held back by Septimus’ own ineptitude. Though - truth be told - he probably would have picked Syrah over everyone else anyway, had he been given the choice. In his opinion, the two of them complimented each other quite nicely.

“Hey,” he said softly, getting Syrah’s attention. “You ready?”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Ha. Based on the last 50 rounds, I’m going to say probably not.”

Smiling, he took his bow. “Good. That’ll keep it interesting.”

“Alright, take hands,” Lucy said, cueing the band. “On my go. One two three, two two three, three two three, now let’s go!”

On Lucy’s cue, Septimus stepped forward right as Syrah stepped back left. They were alright at the start, but like he predicted once they got to the first spin, they were off again.

He brought his hand around her head, but accidentally sent her right instead of left. And as she came in, she lost her footing and more crashed into him than gracefully gliding in. “Oh, sorry!” They both said in unison. Before they could continue, Lucy called out to hold.

Oh thank God, Septimus thought.

“There’s too much stomping going on,” Simon said, walking to meet Lucy in the center of the floor. “This is a waltz, so it should be smooth and strident.”

Lucy put her hand on his lower back. “Si’s right. You’ve mostly got the steps, but you need to think about the presentation. This dance is what’s going to lead into Jenna and Beetle taking the floor for the first time as husband and wife. Every eye in the kingdom is going to be on us.”

“But no pressure, right Luce?” Edd’s voice called out.

“Yes pressure!” She retorted. “All of the pressure!”

“Hey, Lu?” Simon cut in, pointing towards the clock on the wall.

“Ah, damn it,” she said. “Okay, once more, all the way through. Think light, think graceful, like a bird gliding over water.”

“Or a fish swimming through it,” JoJo added, rolling his eyes at his partner Tod.

“JoJo, I’ll kill you with my bare hands,” Lucy replied. “Okay! On the go. One two three, two two three, three two three, now let’s go!”

As they began, Septimus tried his hardest to stay calm. He pictured he was Spit Fyre soaring through the air above vast farmland. It helped a little, but he still felt clumsy, and he and Syrah still stepped on each other’s feet throughout the routine. Eventually, they made their way just about to the end, albeit a bit less gracefully than Lucy had instructed.

“Okay, coming to the end pose, and… Hold!”

Septimus and Syrah came together chest to chest, a bit breathless, but still alive.

“Well…” Lucy said, looking at Simon for a long moment before checking the clock again, and finally saying, “That was good!”

“Yeah!” Simon added, with a tense thumbs up. “That was definitely good enough!”

A series of groans - and two strong whoops from Erik and Romilly Badger - were heard from the group.

“Thank you for your work today!” Lucy said. “This was our last official rehearsal, though we WILL be going over it once more day-of. Keep practicing on your own. And if you have questions… Don't. I’m too busy. Thanks again!”

Septimus gave a short whistle. “Well, we’ve made it to good enough status.”

Syrah smiled. “Hey, after all that, I’ll take ‘good enough.’ I’ll wear good enough like a badge of honor.”

“Actually,” Lucy’s voice sounded as she came in from the left. “I need to talk to you guys about that.”

“Oh no…” Syrah groaned, chin dropping to her chest.

Lucy put a hand on each of their shoulders. “You know I love you both. And I’m very proud of the progress you’ve made!”

“But…” Septimus offered.

She sighed. “But it’s not exactly ‘good enough’...”

“Are we really the worst ones in the whole party?” Syrah asked, a bit defeated.

“No. JoJo and Tod are the worst ones. Which is why they’re going to have to have a personal lesson with me. But with all my maid of honor duties less than a week out from the wedding, I won’t have time to work with you guys too. So I’d like you to meet here tomorrow night and work on your own, as long as it takes until you feel comfortable. Because right now, you don’t look comfortable.”

Septimus shrugged. She was right. He was used to being in front of crowds, even being a bit of a show off with magyk when he could. But dancing? That was a whole other story.

He looked at his sister-in-law, and he could tell she was exhausted. Which made sense. For the past 2 weeks, Lucy had been in wedding red-alert mode. He felt a little bad. Her job as maid of honor seemed way more stressful than his best man job had been so far. Though, he had suspected it was because Jenna had allocated most of the responsibility Lucy’s way on purpose.

“Okay, Luce. We won’t let you down,” he said. 

She smiled. “Remember, it’s all about connection. You each are so focused on making sure you’re doing the steps that you forget all about the person in front of you. This is a couple’s dance. So it has to be done together.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a problem if he wasn’t so stupid!” Tod outburst from the other side of the room.

“Call each other stupid one more time, and I’m locking you both in Dungeon Number One for 30 years!” Simon replied.

Lucy turned to look at Septimus. “I’m...not even going to deal with that right now.” She smiled to Syrah. “We’ve got to go meet Jenna in the lower kitchen for dessert sampling. Syrah, figure out the details with Septimus, and then meet me there. I’ll tell Jenna you’ll be a tidge late. Bye Sep!” She gave a short wave as she ran off to her next task.

“How has she not just collapsed yet?” Syrah wondered aloud.

“Lucy Gringe is nothing if not full of fire,” Septimus replied. “So… guess we’ve got to meet back here tomorrow.”

Syrah put her head in her hands. “I’ve never been the bottom of my class before...”

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “One above the bottom. Which means we’re still killing it.”

Syrah giggled, still covering her face. Septimus felt his heart light up. Truthfully, he was more than a little worried about the dance too. But Syrah had been so nervous and embarrassed, he had decided that he would be playful and joking about the whole thing to try and make her feel better. So whenever she laughed, or even smiled during rehearsals, he counted it as a win.

“What time do you want to meet?” he asked. “I figure we’ll need at least a couple of hours.”

“Well, tomorrow’s my one day at Lila’s, but I’m done around 6. So right around then would work for me.”

“Perfect! Tod’s lesson will be done by 5. We could grab dinner, then come here to practice. We’ll make our way to good enough, trust me.”

At that, Syrah’s cheeks turned a shade brighter. “Yeah! Yep, let’s do that.”

Aw, Septimus thought. Hopefully she’ll be less embarrassed about the dance by the wedding.

“Great!” he said. “That’ll give me time to pick up a music charm, so we don’t have to rehearse in silence. I’ll meet you outside of Lila’s at 6!”

She gave a goofy little grin at the ground, before meeting his eyes again and saying, “I’ll see you then. And I’ll try not to be too terrible, although I make no promises.”

Septimus laughed. “Oh, I’m still not convinced you’re not some secret dance prodigy, and you’re just waiting for the perfect moment to bust out your skills.”

“I guess you’re just going to have to wait to find out,” she said. “Oh, I’ve got to meet your sister. Dessert calls! I’ll see ya.” She gave a wink as she ran out towards the kitchen.

As he watched her leave, he felt some serious butterflies rumbling in his stomach. Wedding nerves, he told himself. You’ve got some bad wedding nerves.

***

“Well, look who decided to join us!” Jenna said when Syrah finally found her way to the lower kitchen. 

“Every time I think I know these halls, I find something else has changed from my Time,” she replied with an exhale. “I didn’t really put two and two together to figure out that ‘lower kitchen’ implied the existence of more than one kitchen.”

Jenna held up the spoon she was using to eat brownie batter as a lecturing pointer. “This kitchen was only installed about 300 years ago, so it wouldn’t have been around when you were first here. Queen Orpah, my eleventh-great-grandmother, had a love of baking, but an intense social anxiety. So she had this kitchen put in so that she could indulge her hobby without having to interact with hardly any of the staff needed to run a Castle kitchen. It’s hardly used nowadays by anyone, save my mother on occasion, when the staff upstairs get too annoyed with her.” She licked the spoon in her hand. “They’ve been working up there for days to accommodate all the guests coming in, and I wanted a bit of privacy away from having to act like dignitaries - which we seem to get very little of these days. So I figured Queen Orpah’s secret baking kitchen was the perfect place for us.”

Snorri Snorrelson hopped down from where she was sitting on the counter and came in to inspect Jenna. “Oh no! You guys, they have taken Jenna and replaced her with a walking history tome!”

“No one tell Beetle!” Lucy said. “Put it in a wedding dress, I’m sure he wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference.”

“That’s it, you’re all fired!” Jenna said, taking another spoonful of batter.

The girls all began laughing, and Syrah couldn’t help getting swept up in it. Jenna had always been kind to her, Lucy too, but it wasn’t until about a year ago that Syrah really began to feel like she was a part of something with them. It was Nicko and Snorri’s final “Welcome Home!” party that really kicked it off. She hadn’t meant to stay so long, but Jenna insisted that it was time she made some more friends other than just Septimus. So Jenna kept Syrah at her hip all night, through dancing, impromptu karaoke, and probably more drinking than they should have done. At the end of the night it had just been the four of them left, and they all slept on the floor in front of a fireplace in the Castle. Ever since, Jenna had affectionately referred to them as the “Girl Squad”. Lucy had even made them matching winter coats with the name stitched on the back.

Syrah still felt nervous every once in a while that she was the oddball out - as she did everywhere she went - but she was more at ease with her Girl Squad than she had been in a long time.

Lucy held up a tray of yellow cupcakes that had yet to be frosted. “Well now that Syrah’s done holding us up, let’s get started in on these. I made them, so you better like them.”

As she reached for a cupcake, Syrah said, “Hey, it’s your fault that I had to stay behind and make plans with Septimus anyhow. If we had walked together, I never would have gotten lost.”

“Oh, making plans with Septimus, are we?” Snorri said suggestively, grabbing the bowl of vanilla frosting.

“Hey, no, not like that,” Syrah said over the chorus of ‘oooh’s. “Lucy said we were abysmal at dancing, so we’re just getting dinner and practicing the routine tomorrow, no big deal.”

“Uh, I didn’t say abysmal. And I definitely didn’t order you to get dinner together,” Lucy replied.

Syrah felt her face heat up. “Well no, that was his idea, but…”

“Gonna set the mood for a little one on one attention?” Jenna said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“You guuuuyyyys,” Syrah whined.

“Oh come on, you two have got it bad. Maybe this’ll be the thing that finally kickstarts something,” Jenna said. “Good job making this happen, Lucy.”

“Potential romance is just a side effect. I really do need them to be better.”

“You guys are ridiculous. Hand me the lemon cream frosting,” Syrah said, rolling her eyes.

Passing her the bowl, Jenna said, “What can I say? Love is in the air. Beetle and I are kind of contagious like that.”

“What a nice thing to say while we are eating,” Snorri said, mouth full of lemon cupcake. 

“Is it good?” Lucy asked.

“Phenomenal. Too good maybe. We do not want to upstage the wedding cake. I can take the rest of them to be safe,” Snorri replied, grabbing another cupcake.

“Milo will freak out if there’s too many lemon ones. He likes chocolate and chocolate only.” Jenna paused. “Make another batch of them.”

“It’ll be exclusively lemon at the rehearsal dinner. Your mother loves them anyhow,” Lucy said. She passed Syrah a different recipe card, and pulled out another large bowl. “Syrah, get started on this mint fudge, it’s not too hard. I’ll get the next set of cake samples ready. How does red velvet sound?”

Jenna gave a loud whoop as Lucy set the oven timer. Syrah began gathering ingredients, and Snorri reached for a chocolate cupcake this time before hopping back on the counter.

“So Jenna, how are you feeling, now that we’re only a week out?” Syrah asked, wanting to keep the conversation away from herself and a certain Extraordinary Wizard.

Jenna smiled, frosting her own cupcake. “Giddy is probably as close as I can get to describing it. And surprisingly calm. Mum thought I’d be like a chicken with my head cut off by now, but it’s been fairly easy for me. Mostly meeting with guests. The hardest thing has been trying to keep my parents and Milo from killing each other, which is standard. But it’s been really a walk in the park.”

Lucy made a stressed noise bent halfway into the oven. “Yeah, a real breeze for sure!”

“Love you Lucy, you know I wouldn’t live without you!”

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it!”

“And honestly?” Jenna continued, looking more like a smitten schoolgirl than her Royal Majesty. “I’m so ready to be married to Beetle. I’ve been ready for years. Truth be told, most of this fanfare is for the kingdom, not us. And I get it, royal wedding is a big event! But if it were up to me, I would have married him on the spot when he asked me. Every day that I haven’t been married to him feels like forever. Like the world is saying, ‘come on, we know how this one ends already, get on with it!’”

“You are sickeningly cute, you know this?” Snorri said.

“Yes! We are! It’s gross and I’m in love and I can’t wait to shove it in everyone’s face!”

“That is absolutely the best part of the wedding, trust me,” Lucy said, grabbing a handful of forks. “Vanilla cake sample is ready, dig in!”

“Have any desserts to spare?” Simon Heap said, ducking a little as he entered the small kitchen.

Jenna snatched up her cake sample. “And why do you think you deserve any of our desserts?” She took a large bite, grinning smugly at her older brother.

“Because I just had to deal with Tod and JoJo throwing yet another temper tantrum,” Simon said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “On your behalf. So when your big dance number doesn’t completely fall apart, you have me to thank.”

Lucy handed him one of the lemon cupcakes, and stood on her tiptoes to give his cheek a kiss. “We’re very appreciative, darling. You’re probably the only person around that can keep JoJo in check.”

“Trust me, get any of my brothers, except Sep, they’d be willing to kick his ass too,” he replied, taking the cupcake. “Thank you, my love.”

“Why did you end up pairing those two together anyway? I feel like it should have been obvious they’d be disastrous,” Syrah asked, searching for the rest of the fudge ingredients.

Jenna and Lucy shared a look. “We wanted to keep the damage to a minimum, and figured two disasters in one pair was the ideal situation,” Lucy said.

“Despite the age gap, they really do have a lot in common,” Jenna added. “They both act like they’re 7 years old on a regular basis.”

“I’m just happy you let me be with Nicko. We melt into the background quite easy,” Snorri said.

“Yeah, I would have loved to melt into the background,” Syrah said, a little louder than she meant to.

Simon took a bite out of his cupcake. “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen dancing with Mr. EOW. But I believe in you two! If you fully submit yourself to the wordless dialogue that is a waltz,” he scooped Lucy up into the waltzing position, “you can get out of your own way, and make something beautiful.”

He and Lucy did a few gliding box-steps around the center kitchen aisle, drawing boos from Snorri and Jenna. Seeing how natural and in-sync they were made Syrah nervous all over again. She knew her own anxiety was a big part of the problem, but she couldn’t seem to get over herself, as much as she tried. She wished she and Septimus could have the kind of effortless flow Simon and Lucy had, but it was currently so out of reach. And as much as she tried to deny it and shove it down, she knew her own feelings for Septimus were messing with her head. She had basically resigned herself to being the pining best friend for the rest of her life, and having to do something as couple-y as dancing a waltz made it more difficult than it had been in a while.

“Simon, did you come just to distract your wife, or are you going to actually help?” Jenna said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, Snorri’s not helping either!” he replied.

“But I was invited here,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “You must earn your way to the desserts.”

Laughing, he put up his hands in resignation. “Alright, alright, fine. It’s better than sharing a room with Edd and Erik anyhow.” With a flick of his hand, a burst of green light went into the cabinet underneath Snorri, and a glass pan came flying out, setting itself on the counter next to Syrah. “I’ll help with the fudge; mint is my favorite. Let’s do this, Syrah.”

***

Septimus and Syrah were fully lying on the hardwood floor they were supposed to be dancing on, heads nearly touching. They’d been in the ballroom for an hour and a half, and felt only nominally closer to being ready for the wedding. 

“So have we fully ruled out darke magyk as an option? Because I think there could be some merit in revisiting that,” Syrah said.

Fiddling with the music charm in his left hand, Septimus didn’t say anything. He seemed less hopeful than when Syrah had last seen him.

“Septimus?”

He rolled his head to the side to face her. “Yeah. I don’t really know what to do. I feel like we’re so close, we’re just missing… something. Who knows.” He looked back down to the charm.

Syrah raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just bummed we can’t get this.”

“No,” she said, sitting up. “You were out of it even before dinner. What’s going on?”

Sighing, Septimus followed suit and sat up. “Can’t get anything past you, can I, Syara?”

“Correct. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s dumb.” Taking one last look at the music charm, he handed it to her. “Foxy was in the charm shop when I got there. Accidentally walked in on him and Rose talking about their engagement.”

“Oh…”

“But you know, it’s not even that I’m like, sad or whatever to hear that, you know? I’ve come to terms with what happened. And god, it’s not like I would want to marry her. It’s just… I don’t know. Everyone around me, it seems like, has got this whole romance stuff a lot more figured out than I do. Them, Jenna and Beetle… Driffa even got married a few months back.”

“And you’re feeling like you wanna get married too?”

“Or at the very least like I have somewhat of a start. But I mean,” he laughed. “You’ve seen my track record. I don’t exactly have the best sense when it comes to these things.”

She smiled. “I mean, it only takes getting it right once.”

“I guess. But what if… I don’t? I mean, with everything that’s gone on with me, what if…”

“What if you’ve missed your chance, and you’re too late?” She said, not meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, exactly!” He groaned, and fell back to lying on the floor. “God, you must think I’m a total sad sack. ’Most powerful wizard in the land, but he can’t even get his dating life together!’” 

“No,” she said, getting on his level by lying on her stomach. “If anything, I’m empathizing with you. I get it. You know when the last time someone kissed me was?”

He turned in towards her. “When?”

“512 years ago. On a dare.”

He didn’t mean to, but Septimus glanced at her lips. He’d bet there were people out there whose fantasies involved kissing her. “Really?”

“If you’re a sad sack, I am the most melancholy of all the sacks out there.”

He gave a soft chuckle, then extended his hand along the floor towards her. “Well, at least we can be tragic together, yeah?”

Taking his hand in hers, she smiled. “Yeah. I promise to be pathetic as long as you are.”

Septimus felt those familiar butterflies rise up in his stomach as he just stared at her for a second longer than a friend should. With a strong tug, he pulled her into him so she landed across his stomach.

“Speaking of pathetic, how are we gonna figure out this dance?” he asked.

She couldn’t help but giggle, the vibration across his stomach causing him to start laughing too.

“Well, we’ve got to get it together in at least one regard, right?” she said, still giggling.

“Yes! I believe in us! What would Lucy say?”

Syrah’s face turned a darker shade as she imagined what Lucy might say in that instant.

“Probably… That we’re too caught up in ourselves. I know she said that to me yesterday. We’re fine on our own, but we have trouble coming together.”

Septimus nodded. “You’re probably right. I don’t do too badly going over it on my own. But as soon as I get out here I get so in my head.”

“Me too,” Syrah exhaled.

He looked at her for a moment, trying to think of how to best tackle their issue. “Wait,” he said, “I have an idea. Come here.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her up with him. She held the music charm out to him. He took it, and holding it close to his lips, he said,

“Piano and strings

 And a beat three by three

 Play strong and true

 On this song for me.”

As the charm started to play, he tossed it in the air where it stayed floating.

“Are we starting from the top?” Syrah asked.

“No, we’re not doing the routine,” Septimus replied. “We need to stop focusing on the steps right?” He put one hand on her waist and one hand in hers, prepping her up into the starting position. “So don’t do the steps. Just dance with me.”

Syrah’s eyes widened at this suggestion. “Oh, I don’t think I- I mean, without the pattern, I’m- I’m not any good at-”

He took a long, striding step back, cutting her off. It took a few measures, but they got a turning box step going. Syrah’s eyes were fixed firmly on the floor, but Septimus was looking at her. He spun her around, causing her to yelp in surprise.

“Hey, Syrah, I’ve got you.” His voice was calm and tender. “Look at me, not at our feet. There’s no wrong answer.”

Taking a couple deep breaths, she met his gaze. Despite being immediately overwhelmed, she didn’t look away. They took a breath together and went off again.

They started simple; mostly box steps with an occasional spin thrown in. Eventually, growing in confidence, they were able to cover more ground, gliding more than their typical stomping. Feeling bold, Septimus spun them apart, then together, then a spin around with ease. Syrah gave a whoop. Another shot of butterflies through his chest. It’s a lot easier when we’re looking at each other, huh, Septimus thought. He also noticed that her eyes shone greener when she was laughing.

Having built up some speed - and confidence - Septimus said, “I want to try the lift, okay?”

Syrah just nodded, bracing herself for the jump.

“Okay,” he said, “One two three, two two three, I’ve got you, here we GO!”

He held her waist firmly as she jumped in the air, kicking her legs out to the side and putting her weight on his shoulders. As her feet touched down again, they finished with a final spin out.

“OH MY GOD, WE LANDED RIGHT!!” She yelled out, turning and throwing her arms around his neck. He lifted and spun her around, giving a few victorious shouts.

“That was great!” She said, only pulling away from him slightly. “I mean, a few hiccups, but so much better than we’ve been doing by the end!”

A little breathless, Septimus reached for the jar of water they’d brought. “Who would’ve guessed eye contact would have helped, huh?”

“Well, probably Lucy and Simon.”

Wiping his mouth after his drink, he smiled, handing her the jar. “Yeah, well, we’re going to take credit for this one. But let’s make sure we can do it again. You wanna try the routine?”

“Yes, let’s! Okay, from the top…”

                    ***

It was safe to say that the party had gotten a little out of control.

What had started as a fairly tame night-before-the-wedding party had spiraled into the most drunken mess Septimus had ever seen. In part, he blamed this on the location. Despite only being on the edge of the forest - not even a 4 minute walk back to town - the feeling of being at a wild party out in the woods gave people a bit of an aesthetic distance from civilized society. You can do things out in the woods that you can’t do back in town.

The other part, however, he blamed on his older brothers. Edd and Erik had established their lives as wizards back at the Castle years ago, but Septimus knew there was still a bit of the  forest wilds in them, and this was the perfect opportunity to let that energy loose. The sheer number of people present was already a lot to handle. The twins had invited basically every person they’d ever met. They’d also told everyone that the Castle was footing the cost of the booze. Mix that with a perfect excuse to go nuts? It was chaos.

“Hey Sep!” Beetle called out, squeezing through a crowd of people with a bottle in each hand.

He rejoined Septimus in the little corner they had carved out for themselves, away from the thickest part of the throng. “Okay, so I went up to the bar and tried to order your lemon drop, but Barry said they were out of lemon juice, so I told him to just make whatever, and he said he could make a White Russian, but then I saw that he had just poured raspberry liqueur in with some milk.” He took a breath. “So I threw that in the trash and grabbed you a lime FizzFroot. Here!”

“That’s probably for the best. Someone oughta be clear-headed here,” he said, taking the bottle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy, huh?” Beetle said, taking a drink from his own bottle of what looked to be beer.

Septimus cocked an eyebrow. “You know, Beet, I would have thought you’d be more stressed out about all this.”

“I was, and then I got so stressed out, I circled back around to zen.”

“Well, cheers to that,” Septimus replied, clinking bottles with his friend. “Did Simon go home already? I haven’t seen him in like an hour.”

Swallowing, Beetle said. “Yeah, he and Luce headed out as soon as Edd and Erik came back with half of the Wendron Witch coven. They were only here like half an hour.”

“Probably smart of them; we’ve all gotta be up pretty early tomorrow for the big day.” 

A slight blush spread across Beetle’s cheeks as he grinned into his drink. “God, I can’t believe it’s finally here. I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime for this.” He looked to Septimus. “I’m gonna be Mister-motherfucking-Jenna Heap.”

“How many of those beers have you had?”

“A lot.”

Septimus laughed. “Well, I’m really happy for you guys. I’ve gotta admit, I kinda didn’t think you’d last 2 years as just engaged; I figured you would’ve just eloped by now.”

“Do you know how many times we almost did?”

“Uh, yes, because one of you would come to me basically every single week, saying you were just going to run away together already?”

Beetle couldn’t help the big chesty laugh that came out of him. “God bless you for putting up with us this long,” he cackled.

Putting his arm around Beetle, Septimus said, “Ah, I mostly love you guys too much to be annoyed. And I wouldn’t have wanted Jenna to end up with anyone else. I’m so ready for you to officially become one of the Heap brothers.”

Beetle enveloped Septimus into a bear hug, almost spilling both their drinks. “You want me to cry? You trying to get me to cry? Because it’s not hard man, I will.” He sniffled. “You’re my best friend, you know that? Nobody else can even touch that ranking. Nobody.” 

“Haha, okay buddy, maybe we oughta get some water in you.”

“Probably not a bad idea.”

As they broke apart, however, Nicko came up on the two of them, also clearly not sober with a bottle in his hand. 

“WHAT’S UP, BITCHES!”

“NICKO!!” Beetle yelled, giving Nicko a hug as well. “I also love you.”

“Man, I wish everyone would greet me like that,” Nicko replied, giving Beetle a couple pats on the back. “Septimus? Septimus.” He stretched his hand out and put it right on Septimus’ face.

“Yes, Nik?” Septimus replied, muffled.

“I have a message from her Royal Majesty, the Queen.” Nicko took his hand back, laughing.

“That’s my FIANCE!!” Beetle said.

“YES!” Nicko replied. The two of them hi-fived.

“What did Jen say?” Septimus said, bringing their attention back.

“Oh, right.” Nicko took a swig. “Well, Jenna sent me to tell you that she had to leave for a minute because my darling Snorri threw up all over herself - she’s a total lightweight - and so you need to go hang out with Syrah so she’s not alone.”

Nicko pointed into the crowd and off to the right a bit, though Septimus didn’t really need the instruction. Despite not trying to, he’d been clocking Syrah’s whereabouts at the party all night. Not that it meant anything. She was sitting on a large rock by herself, surrounded by other groups of people talking and dancing. Pushing her hair back behind her ear, she looked around nervously as she waited for Jenna and Snorri to return.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with her?” Septimus asked Nicko.

He gave a wave of his hand. “I would, but JoJo is on his 5th drink, and I love 5 drink JoJo. You can dare him to do anything, and he’ll totally do it, no questions asked. He told me he used to be able to climb to the top of one of these trees in under 2 minutes, so I’m gonna see if he can do it blindfolded.”

“Please don’t kill our brother,” Septimus said.

“Man, being EOW has made you sound like Mum. I do this all the time! You should’ve seen it when I dared him to find the Marsh Python’s head in the frozen water and melt the ice above it until it snapped at him.”

“Where’s Sam? Isn’t he usually supervising when everyone starts getting stupid?”

Nicko nodded his head to their left. “Last I saw him, he was making out with Marwick on top of a table over there.”

“No way!” Beetle yelled in surprise, trying to see where Nicko was pointing. “Ohhhh, how fun, Sam is so rarely messy.”

“None of this is making me feel better about you enabling JoJo’s impulses,” Septimus said.

“Well, why don’t you let me worry about JoJo, and you worry about your girlfriend, okay?” Nicko said, patting his younger brother on the back.

“Hey, wait-!” Septimus started, but Nicko was already running off to find his drunk brother.

Beetle whistled. “That’s probably not going to end well, is it?”

“No it is not.”

“Well,” Beetle said, turning to look towards Syrah. “We should go over and keep her company, huh?

“Yeah!” Septimus said, not moving. He instead began fiddling with his sleeves.

Beetle paused. “Sep? You good?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just, I’ve been seeing her a lot lately, and I don’t know that I have anything new to talk about.”

“Well, you don’t have to talk to her. You guys have been working on dancing, yeah? Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Beetle said.

Running his hands through his hair, Septimus said, “Ha! We’re barely making our way through a choreographed dance we’ve been practicing for weeks. I don’t think ‘center of the dance floor’ is gonna be the move for us.”

Beetle paused again, taking a long look at his friend. Septimus shifted uncomfortably, purposefully not looking back at him. “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course.”

Wiping his face to clear his mind, Beetle took a deep breath. “Okay. So I know I’m a little drunk right now, but I’m not that far gone. What’s going on there? Did something happen between you and Syrah?”

Septimus absently dug the toe of his boot into the dirt, thinking back to the other night in the ballroom. Technically nothing abnormal happened, but he’d been left with an… odd feeling afterwards that he couldn’t shake, no matter how much he tried. It nestled in his stomach, it warmed his cheeks, and it made him incredibly nervous at the thought of talking to Syrah.

“No, nothing happened, really. Just… I don’t know. We were rehearsing, and I was being dumb because, well. The Rose and Foxy thing got in my head.”

“Ohhhh. You heard about that?”

“Yeah, but it was fine, really. Like, weirdly I’m fine with it. Syrah talked to me and made me feel better about everything, and it was really nice and warm, and I just…”

Beetle slowly nodded his head. “Realized you’re in love with her?”

“That’s not-!” Septimus started, before breathing out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not… Just, a lot of feelings are flurrying around in my brain, and I don’t want to do anything dumb. And I’m exceptionally good at being dumb.”

“So you’re going to avoid her forever because you have a crush?” Beetle asked, taking another drink from his bottle.

“Not forever. Not even really avoiding, just. Everyone gets lonely at weddings, okay! I’m not about to go ruin a great friendship just because of some stupid attraction. I’ve already done that once with her, and I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you recover from twice.”

“Okay, counter point,” Beetle said, pointing at Septimus’ face. “If it’s happened twice, it’s probably not fake wedding jitters.”

“But I was a kid then.”

“So your initial point makes no sense either!”

“BEETLE!” Septimus wailed, throwing his hands up.

“Alright, you know what I think?” Beetle put his hand on Septimus’ shoulder. “I think you’re being way over complicated about this. You think she’s pretty, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You like being around her?”

“Yeah.”

“She makes you happy?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go talk to her!” Beetle said, giving Septimus a playful shove. “Get out of your own head! Just give it a chance! What do you have to lose?”

“Her! I could lose her! Come on, Beet, be real. She already rejected me once. I just… I don’t want to do that to us again.”

“Okay,” Beetle sighed. “I’m gonna tell you something, and I think it’s ridiculous I even have to tell you this, but you’re my best friend, so I’m gonna forgive you for being a little dense.”

“Yes?” Septimus said, a little annoyed as he took a drink of his FizzFroot.

“My guy. Syrah is absolutely in love with you. We all talk about it all the time,” Beetle said bluntly.

Septimus couldn’t help the sputtering, choked cough that came out of him. A bit of soda got on his shirt. He tried to regain his composure, but his face was still bright red. “What? What do you mean? How do you know? Who’s we?”

“Well,” Beetle said, holding up his fingers to count off of. “She wants to date you romantically, I have eyes, and I don’t know, like, everyone. Your siblings? Basically all of your family and friends.”

“WHAT?”

“Sep! Obviously!”

With a groan, Septimus fell backwards into a sitting position on the ground. “Oh, this is too much.” He rubbed his face. “Did she say that she liked me, specifically? Did she tell Jenna? Or is this just everyone guessing?”

Beetle got down to his level. “Do you remember when I was in love with Jenna for years before I said anything about it?”

“Yes, I remember that quite vividly.”

“And you remember how you made fun of me every single day because you thought I was being so obvious?”

“...Yes.”

“Yeah. It’s like that.”

“Okay,” Sep said, “I need some more liquor.”

“No you don’t!” Beetle extended a hand to help Septimus up. “What you need to do is just talk to her like a person.Tell her she looks nice. Don’t be afraid of your feelings.”

Getting up, Septimus said, “Not fair, you got to be afraid of your feelings for years.”

“I was a child. You’re an adult who’s partially in charge of a country. I think you’re a little more equipped to handle this.”

Septimus took a deep, cleansing breath. He looked over at Syrah and felt his heart start jumping, so he took another breath. It’s just Syrah, he thought. You know Syrah. You like Syrah. You can talk to Syrah. You don’t have to admit anything just yet. Just act like a person.

“Okay, fine.” Having garnered a little bit of resolve, Septimus approached her, with Beetle right behind him. 

“Hey Syrah!” Beetle said, louder than he probably had to.

“Oh, hey guys!” Syrah said with a relieved smile. “I’m so glad you’re here! Jenna and Snorri had to go deal with something, but I’m sure they’ll be back. Beetle! Happy wedding eve!” She stood up to give him a hug. 

“Thanks!! I can’t wait!!”

Septimus quietly took Beetle’s beer out of his hand, and replaced it with the FizzFroot. He took a big drink, grimacing a little from how bitter it was.

Syrah laughed. “It’s going to be so much fun! How are you guys enjoying the party so far? Seen anyone light themselves on fire? Because I, in fact, have seen that happen twice now.”

“Please tell me neither of those were JoJo,” Septimus said.

“Haha, nope! Two people I didn’t know. Though I did see JoJo dig up a worm from the ground and eat it. So he’s probably not doing too great either.”

Laughing, Septimus said, “No, I would imagine not. What’re you drinking?”

She turned her can so he could see the label. “Just an apple cider. I’m hoping to try all the ones they have here. So far I’ve had cherry, and now apple, and I’m going to try pineapple next. You’ve got an IPA?”

Beetle looked at Septimus, then at the FizzFroot in his own hand, then back at Septimus. “Hey, wait!”

Before Beetle could switch them back, Sep took another drink, laughing. “Yep, picked out for me by my best friend Beetle.” 

For a moment Beetle looked annoyed, but then a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Oh man, you guys are making me want to try some more of what they’ve got! Maybe I oughtta head back over to the bar. Syrah, was the cherry any good? I think I’ll grab one of those.” He stared at Septimus with suggestive eyebrows as he began to walk away.

Panicked, Septimus grabbed his arm and said, “Oh, we’ll come with you!”

“No, no.” Beetle moved Sep’s arm off. “It’s crowded, you two stay here, with each other. I’ll be back soon.”

Before Sep could protest any more, Beetle disappeared into the crowd. Septimus felt his heart start racing again as he mentally cursed his friend out for ditching him with such a stereotypical move. The anxiety of talking to Syrah alone once again skyrocketed, but he knew he had to act at least somewhat normal.

“Beetle’s funny when he drinks,” Syrah said over his shoulder. “Jenna too. It’s fun to see such put-together people be a little bit out of their minds.”

He turned, and accidentally made direct eye contact. Her hair was framing her face, and she had a slight redness to her cheeks from the cider, and Septimus could swear she was practically glowing.

Oh. Oh no.

Breathe, Septimus, he told himself. “Yeah, everyone’s head seems to be a little bit…” He glanced quickly away. “Somewhere else tonight.”

They both were quiet for a moment, and Septimus could feel her eyes on him. He knew he had to say something. Looking back at her, he swallowed and said, “That dress looks really pretty on you. Dark green is a good color for you.”

Syrah’s eyes widened a bit, and she began playing with the hem of her skirt.. “Oh! Thanks! Uh, Jenna helped me pick it out. I like the color too. I like your tunic! It fits you nicely. Uh, and it matches the amulet! Which I’m sure was on purpose.” She took a drink of her cider.

Septimus couldn’t help but smile a little. She was awfully cute when she was nervous. His mind went back to what Beetle had said: “Just give it a chance. What do you have to lose?” Steeling himself, he took a slight step forward. 

“Syrah,  can I-”

“Oh come on, don’t walk away when we’re talking to you!” The voice behind Septimus cut through the noise of the party. As he turned to see who was talking, Syrah closed the distance between them as she grabbed onto his arm.

Coming closer towards them, Septimus recognized the shock of bright red hair as belonging to Jenna’s old friend Bo Tenderfoot, who was being followed by two much larger men that Septimus didn’t recognize. She was backing away slowly with her hands up in front of her, trying to hold a bit of distance, though she wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping them back. She was only 5 feet tall, and these guys each had at least a head on her.

“I was just, um, just trying to find my friends…” Bo said weakly.

The blonde one stepped in closer. “But we asked you to dance. I’m sure your friends wouldn’t mind waiting until after one dance.”

“Well actually, I don’t really...like guys, so…”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t give us one dance.”

Septimus and Syrah shared a look, and both jumped forward to where Bo was. Syrah took her shoulder as Septimus put himself in between Bo and the guys.

“Bo! Oh, we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Syrah said.

“Thanks for keeping our friend company,” Septimus said with a cold smile, “but we’ve got her now.”

The dark haired man stepped up closer to him. “Well your friend was going to come with us for a bit, so why don’t you go get a drink and leave us alone?”

“I said, we’ve got her. We’re not leaving.”

Bo shakily grabbed onto Septimus’ tunic from the back as Syrah moved up next to him. “Is that going to be a problem?” Syrah asked, looking directly at the blonde.

He laughed. “Well, not if you and those legs stick around.”

“The guy can beat it though,” the other man said. Septimus could sense Syrah tensing up.  “So what do you say, man? You wanna get lost? This doesn’t concern you.”

“Please don’t…” Bo’s muffled voice was quiet.

The crowd around had started watching intently. Septimus assumed the men didn’t know who he was, which was an advantage on his side. He couldn’t sense any magykal ability from them either, so maybe it was still possible to handle this without a fight.

However, before Septimus could come up with a plan, the blonde man got in close to Syrah and said, “Oh, I could have some fun with you,” before placing a hand on her ass.

And Septimus’ hope to leave without a fight disappeared.

Syrah yelled and shoved the man back. He grabbed her left wrist, but Syrah formed a fist with her right hand, and swung. There was a crack of green lightning as her fist made impact with the man’s face. 

Septimus quickly said, “Bo, run!” Not needing to be told twice, Bo launched off into the crowd. 

The blonde stumbled back, gripping his jaw. “Oh, fuck you!” he spat out

 His friend took a swing at Syrah, but Septimus blocked it, and used the guy’s forward momentum to toss him over his shoulder. He hit the ground with a yell. The blonde charged at Septimus, but Sep grabbed his arms before they could make impact. He launched his knee up into the man’s stomach, and as he staggered back, Syrah let out a yell. The man turned his head, and was met with a roundhouse kick from Syrah right to the face, and he went down, out cold.

Syrah’s fist started glowing green again as a couple other people - their friends, if Septimus had to guess - started pointing and  running towards them, shouting something. Septimus glanced behind them and noticed a forest path off to their left. Thinking quickly, he took in a deep breath and exhaled hard, bringing his arms in a sweeping motion downwards. A thick cloud of swirling purple smoke erupted from him, covering the entire area in it.

He took Syrah’s hand and ran off towards the path. He could hear the sounds of coughing and audible confusion as they distanced themselves from the crowd.

They ran for about a minute before coming to a little stone dock on the edge of some water. Confident in their tree cover, and that they had gotten far enough away, they took a seat on the dock, panting. They looked at each other for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. 

“Not exactly how I thought this night was gonna go,” Septimus smiled, wiping his eyes.

“Me either,” she replied, “But I’m not mad. Using my fists to take down creeps is exactly my idea of a good time.”

He started laughing again as he leaned back, taking in the patch of stars they could see through the opening above the water. “Oh yeah, I’m very glad you were on my side there. I would not want to be on the other side of that roundhouse kick.”

“Thank you. That was some quick thinking with the smoke trick.”

“Well, even at dark sketchy forest parties, I do have somewhat of a public image to uphold. Marcia always says the best way to win a fight is by being smart enough to avoid a fight.”

“Wow. That’s really wise. I say the best way to win a fight is by hitting the other guy really hard. But hey, I guess Marcia probably knows a thing or two.”

Septimus smiled. “Yeah, I would guess so…”

In their laughter, Syrah moved in between his arm and his body, and rested her head on his shoulder. Septimus felt like he should be nervous, but something about the situation just felt so natural and right. Leave it to a good brawl to relieve the tension, he thought. Instead of clamming up, he just moved in to hold her a little closer.

For a moment, they shared a comfortable silence, watching the stars and listening to the sounds of moving water. Soon, the buzz of cicadas started to fill the air, making him so acutely aware of just how beautifully alive they were.

“You know,” Syrah said looking out, “I spent so many years staring out at stars over water. Trying to make sense of the patterns and constellations. It was maddening, really. But now, when I look at the night sky, I actually think about…” A nostalgic smile spread across her face. “You might not even remember. It was a few years ago now. There was this night when I couldn’t sleep and we were on top of that old roof-”

“Singing at the top of our lungs in the middle of the night?”

She laughed and nodded her head. “Just screaming out to the expanse of stars, wrapped in that thin little blanket, probably giving ourselves hypothermia.”

“Ha, we were out there til like 4am.” He hugged her tight, his gaze still fixed to the sky. “The stars were beautiful then, too.”

There was another short silence, this one different than the last. There was a tension in the air of words wanting to be spoken, but no one was saying anything.

Finally, Syrah broke the silence, saying softly, “You’ve saved my life so many times, you know that? In so many ways I don’t think you even know.”

“Oh, I think you give me too much credit.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I mean, like, not even counting the literal multiple times you’ve actually saved my life, you’ve done so much for me. You’re my best friend, you know? Like, I would not have a single friend if it wasn’t for you continuing to show me nothing but love. Even after I told you to basically drop dead. Even after all the times I’ve pulled back, or isolated, or had weird horrible memory fits. If it wasn’t for you I’d be spending all my days wandering the roads with ghosts as my only company.”

Smiling, he began to run his fingers through the ends of her hair. “You make it sound like so much work. I just like being around you, so I spend time around you. All the other stuff just comes from how nice you are to be around. Trust me, Syara, anything good you've got is not because of me, but because of how wonderful and... and resilient you are on your own."

“See, and then you go and be a total sweetheart with stuff like that! I really don’t know how you do it… Even in spite of everything. I mean, your kindness, your patience, your ever-present steady hand? The way you can create one moment of levity so strong it makes everything bearable again. I…” She went to meet his gaze, but for a moment something in her eyes wavered, and she looked down at her feet dangling over the pier. “I guess I just wanna say that I am so lucky you found me.”

He paused a beat, his heart pounding but his gaze holding steady. “I guess there was something that really wanted me to find you. It’s like I see you and I just can’t stay away. Every time. In the past, on the island, it was like…” He touched her shoulder, causing her to look up at him. “It’s like a voice in my head, from the universe, always saying, ‘go to her’.”

She swallowed. “Is it saying anything now?”

The air between them in that moment was hot despite the cool of the night, as they stared at each other, breathless. That familiar butterfly sensation sprouted up in Septimus’ stomach, but it was different now. Instead of causing him to freeze and hesitate, this rumble inside gave him the push to do what he had always been too scared to do before. Taking a breath, he decided to dive in. 

He placed a hand on her cheek, slowly leaned in, and kissed her.

Septimus had clarity as he realized in that moment: he had never actually gotten over his feelings for her. Not really. He had merely distracted himself, buried it all so deep that even he believed they weren’t there anymore. Because when he finally kissed her? There was a release of a tension he’d been holding in since the very first moment he saw her.

After a moment, he pulled back to see how she would react. Syrah took only a second to look at his eyes, then his lips, before diving right back in, much more intensely. Instinctively, she placed a hand on his neck and after a moment, she pulled herself to her knees and drew in closer, never breaking the kiss. He brought his other arm around her waist and started kissing her harder, both of them warm and desperate. 

Like a floodgate being opened, they quickly couldn’t get enough of each other. They were kissing and grasping at each other like they’d never been touched before. Syrah was quickly positioned above him on her knees, practically straddling him as she gripped one hand into his hair, the other moving from his neck down to his chest. Both of his hands were firmly on her lower back, holding her as close as she could get. 

Not satisfied with the lack of skin to skin contact, Septimus ran his cool hand underneath her dress and up her back, causing her to gasp sharply. He took this brief separation of lips as an opportunity to begin kissing her neck. She moaned, and he felt a hot rush through his whole body. Beneath her, Syrah could definitely feel that excitement growing, and she didn’t help it by pushing down with her hips and kissing his face and head wherever she could. Still a little cognizant of where they had to be tomorrow, however, it took everything in Sep not to begin biting and sucking at her neck. 

As Septimus was trying to remember what the neckline of the bridesmaids' dresses were to map out where exactly he could safely leave a hickey, there was a rustling sound behind them. Before they could even turn, they heard, “Oh, there you- Oh!”

Quickly separating, they turned to see Beetle standing in their little clearing. He was half turned away, covering his eyes with his hand, but with a smile bigger than the sun plastered across his face.

“BEETLE!” Syrah yelped, trying to quickly flatten her hair with her hands.

“Hey, where did you-” Septimus began.

“Hey hey hey!” Beetle replied, hands up in a non-judgemental gesture. “No need to explain anything! I just had come back from the drink table to a bunch of smoke, and no best friends. Someone said they thought you went towards the forest, so I came to look for you. Buuuut, it looks like you guys are doing fine on your own!”

Septimus was happy it was dark, because he could feel how flushed his face was. “We were just trying to get away from the commotion-”

“So you could make your own?”

“BEETLE!”

He couldn’t keep the laugh in. “Hey, no need to worry about me, now that I know you’re not dead. I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it then. Syrah, I’ll let Jenna know that you’re gone for the night.” Before they could say anything else, Beetle winked, and then left back towards the party.

Septimus met Syrah’s eyes. The mortification of the moment, however, couldn’t compete with the elation of before, and they both started laughing. He scooched in close to her, feeling messy and warm and so, so happy.

“Well,” he said, wiping his face. “I think that probably is as good a place as any to call it a night.”

Syrah just laughed and nodded as she set her head into his lap. “Yeah, I would probably say so.” She reached up to pat his face.

More giddy than he had been in a long time, Septimus took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on it, unable to shake the smile on his face.

***

The sun was shining brightly on the day of Jenna and Beetle’s wedding. The palace was buzzing with energy, people were rushing all about, and yet Septimus was standing still, frustrated as hell that he could not, for the life of him, get his boutonniere pinned correctly.

“Stupid thing,” he muttered, pricking his finger yet again.

“Here, let me help.” He looked up to see his mother approaching, hands outstretched to take the wretched flowers from him.

As he handed the boutonniere to her, he exhaled. “Thanks, Mum,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, of course, sweetie. I’ve pinned enough of these on you boys over the years,” she said. “Have you seen your sister yet?”

“No, not yet. I was helping Beetle get ready.”

Sarah smiled. “She’s so gorgeous, Septimus. Radiant like the sun; everything you’d expect a Queen to be. Ah, it’s hard to believe that’s the same little girl who used to have a gap in her teeth and ride everywhere on her brothers’ shoulders. Your father took one look at her and became a blubbering mess.” She finished pinning the flowers and gave his chest a pat. “There you go.”

Septimus laughed. “I’m surprised you’re holding up so well. You were a wreck at Simon’s wedding.”

“Oh, I took a big dose of my happy pills this morning. I wouldn’t be able to get through it if I hadn’t.”

“That checks out. Maybe you shoulda given Dad a mood stabilizer too.”

Sarah shook her head. “I offered, but he didn’t think he was going to need one. Milo took me up, though; he wanted to be clear-eyed for today. Oh! Speaking of which, have you checked in with him yet? I was supposed to, but doing Jenna’s hair took longer than I thought.”

Nodding, Septimus turned to look at the balconies above them. They were currently waiting in the entrance hall outside the courtyard where the ceremony was being held, and from his location he could see 3 stations of guards on the second floor, though he knew there were many more out of sight.

“Yep, he’s all set. I’ve got wizards surrounding the perimeter of the whole area. Milo and his team are up front, above where Jen and Beetle will be standing, so he has a good vantage point of both the ceremony and the door. Alther and Sir Hereward are keeping an eye on things inside and know to report to Milo if they catch anything. And, in the front row next to Marcellus, Marcia’s seated only a few feet away from the altar. She’s agreed to be the final line of defense, should all else fail.”

“Good, good,” Sarah said, checking their surroundings. “It feels better knowing you two seem to have thought of everything. Not that I think anything’s going to happen, but…”

“You can never be too careful.” Septimus finished. “Don’t worry, Mum. There’ll be no silver bullets here today.”

Sarah turned to face her son, a wistful smile on her face.

“Thank you,” she swallowed. “I’m so lucky to have so many wonderful children. Taking care of each other. All here together…” Despite her best efforts, her eyes did start to get teary. “No! No crying today!” She said, fanning her face with her hands. “Ugh! You all are just so grown up and beautiful, and I love you so much.”

Septimus smiled and pulled his mother in for a hug. “It’s okay, Mum. You’ll have plenty of other weddings to cry through soon enough, I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t say that. We’re avoiding speaking a JoJo wedding into existence any time soon.”

He started laughing, and she couldn’t help but laugh too. Releasing the hug, Septimus gave his mother a kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too, sweetie.” Sarah took a deep breath and exhaled, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. “Okay. Now I believe we’re just waiting on Jenna and the rest of the bridesmaids to get set here, and we’ll be all good to go. I’ll let her know.”

With a kiss on his cheek, she bounded off, out the door.

Septimus, hand on his chest, turned to look around the room. All of his brothers were scattered about, in addition to the myriad of servants and other wedding party members coming in and out of the hall, and the noise of their various conversations filled the room with a comforting babble.

To his left, he saw Lucy with a clipboard speaking fervently to Edd, who had his niece and nephew hanging off of his back. He glanced to the other side of the room and saw Sam, Romilly, Foxy, and Marwick chatting happily in a group together.

Marwick looked up and caught Septimus’ eye, prompting him to give his friend a wave and a big smile from the table he was sitting on. Waving back, Septimus couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by all the love present in the room. He closed his eyes and just stood for a minute in the warmth of it all, soaking up the moment, trying to commit this feeling to memory. They all had grown so much, and he was so grateful they’d grown in a direction that led everyone here, together. His heart was so full he thought it might actually burst.

“Hey,” a voice from behind him spoke. “We ready to do this thing?”

Turning, his breath caught in his throat as he saw his sister standing in her wedding regalia. Sarah wasn’t kidding when she said Jenna looked radiant - she was dressed from head to toe in red silk and glittering gold. Her dress was in 2 pieces; a short-sleeved top and a large skirt that trailed behind her, connected by the sash she wore across her chest. Her hair was styled up under a long red veil that fell all the way down to her feet. The whole ensemble was covered in exquisite and complicated golden detail, and she was adorned in an assortment of glittering jewelry, including a thin golden ring in her nose that was covered in pearls. The gems followed all along the chain connecting to her ear. The extravagant jewels all over her stood in contrast to the simple signature tiara that sat on her head, all shining brightly in the afternoon light.

With her hands clasped in front of her and her head held high, she looked the true embodiment of regality.

Seeing her tipped his emotions over the edge, and Septimus was unable to help it as a few tears started rolling down his face. “Jenna…”

Rolling her eyes, Jenna said, “Oh great, not you too! I swear, if one more person starts crying in front of me, I’m gonna need more of Mom’s happy pills.”

“Too late!” Septimus said, pulling his sister into a big hug. “Oh, happy wedding day! You look so beautiful. Man, Beetle doesn’t stand a chance up there.”

Jenna giggled. “Ahhh, not if you mess up my hair before he sees me!”

“Oh, sorry!” He let go, and gave her a pat on the head. “I don’t need to give Lucy a reason to kill me.”

“Don’t you mean another reason?” Jenna replied, smoothing her veil down. “I had heard that dance rehearsals didn’t go exactly as planned.”

“Hey!” Septimus said, holding his hands up. “For your information, we got it all figured out. Even killed it at the final run-through this morning. Syrah and I are basically professional dancers now.”

“And a little more than that, based on what Beetle saw last night,” Jenna said, arching one eyebrow up in an accusatory fashion. 

“Ah…”

“Oh yeah, don’t think we’re not talking about that the second this is all done.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Septimus said, “Alright, alright. To be fair, Beetle probably made it out to be more dramatic than it was.”

“Uh-huh. We’ll see about that.”

“Jenna!” Lucy called. “It’s time for places!”

“Alright!” she replied, gathering up her skirts. She gave a side-eye to Septimus. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He stuck his tongue out at her, which she returned in kind before rushing off to where Lucy was beckoning her.

Septimus shook his head as he went to his place at the front of the line. He’d been trying all morning - unsuccessfully, he might add - to get his mind off of his moments with Syrah from the night before. As much as he tried to focus on other things, his thoughts always drifted back to her. 

Rubbing his face, he exhaled as he tried to reorient himself to the here and now. He’d have plenty of time to be distracted by her later, he was sure of it.

However, just as he got settled, Syrah came to take her place next to him, and his heart rate picked up all over again. 

“I’m not late, am I?” she asked. “I couldn’t get these stupid flowers pinned in my hair right.”

She looked up to meet his gaze, and a warm smile spread across his face. Draped all in blue and silver, with white flowers cascading down her curly hair, she was more stunning than a dream. He offered his arm to her. “No worries, you’re just in time. Perfect as always.”

Blushing, she moved in closer to take his arm, and held on tightly.

Feeling her hands, Septimus had to remind himself to breathe. He was recalling all too clearly how that grip had felt last night.

He noticed one of the flowers she had pinned in her hair was drooping, so he reached out and pushed it back into place, causing her to turn to him. Her eyes, normally a mellow sea foam green, seemed brighter and more brilliant in the light of the day, and Septimus realized in that moment, he was a goner. There would never be anyone else he could ever fall for again. 

Of course. It was her. It was always her.

The sound of trumpets echoed back into the entrance hall, signaling that they were about to begin.

Syrah gave his arm a squeeze. “You ready?” She whispered.

He smiled as he brought the back of her hand up to his lips.