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Final Act

When Eliza had said she was one of them she really had meant it. Chantelle had believed her, but it hadn’t hit her until she had been living with them for a few weeks.

Liem had begun taking her into town to help him arrange things, such as tax collection or dispute resolution. The entire town had taken to her and the art store owner had even given her a gift of a wonderful set of paint brushes. “A wedding gift.” The entire town knew about her relationship with Marceline. And unlike her mother, they were all happy for her, after all she would now be joining the Harris family, the family that protected the town and it protected in return.

Marceline was not in bed this morning, but Chantelle could hear the shower running. Marceline had asked, only half jokingly, a few times over the past few weeks if Chantelle wanted to join her. She dropped it after the second time, assuring Chantelle that she would wait until she was ready, even if that was years down the road.

Today they would be married. The government wouldn’t recognize it, but the vampires would as would the town. That was now her entire world anyways.

Marceline returned from the bathroom in her underwear. She smiled at Chantelle, coming over to give her a kiss. “Getting up?”

Chantelle nodded. “Pick something out for me?” She had absolutely no idea what to wear to a Vampire wedding.

“Eliza should have left your dress in the wardrobe.” Marceline went to pull it open, then held out a dress go Chantelle. It was pure white. The top skirt was cut lace, then a solid one below. It would come to her knees and poof out just a bit. The top of the dress was plainer, with stitching down the front and lace at the collar. It was sleeveless. A wide red ribbon decorated the waist, itself covered in embroidered roses.

“It’s beautiful!” Chantelle climbed out if the bed as fast as she could, taking the dress in her hands. “Wait. Is it okay for you to see me in it?”

“Of course. I’ll zip the back once I’m dressed.” Marceline went to pull on her suit. It only took her a few minutes for her to pull it on. It was plain black and she wore a red rose in her lapel.

Chantelle pulled off her night gown, slipping the dress over her head. Marceline zipped the back, smoothing the skirts a bit. “You look lovely.”

Heat rose to Chantelle’s cheeks, even though she had heard the words a dozen times before. Now they held special meaning. Now they meant something more.

“Shall we go?” Marceline offered her arm, which Chantelle took, allowing herself to be led out.

The Harris family chapel was small, just large enough for eight rows of pews. Eliza, Arthur, and Liem were already there, sitting on the pews, side by side on the front row.

A priestess stood before the altar. Her hair was pale silver, but her face was young. She smiled at Chantelle, her lips a vibrant red against her perfectly white teeth.

Marceline led her over to stand before the priestess. They stood facing each other so that Chantelle could see the family.

The priestess held the Bible to her chest. “Do you, Marceline Harris, take Chantelle as your wedded wife? For years to come, centuries should the world last?”

“I do.” Marceline squeezed Chantelle’s hand, taking a silver ring from her pocket and slipping it onto Chantelle’s finger. It was engraved with swirling designs.

“Do you Chantelle take Marceline as your wedded wife? Taking her life as yours, through whatever may come, good or ill?”

“I do.” Marceline passed the ring to Chantelle, which she then slipped into her fingers.

The priestess smiled. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Chantelle glanced towards Eliza, Arthur, and Liem. Eliza smiled encouragingly, Arthur waved for her to hurry up, and Liem simply looked amused. She turned to Marceline who raised one thin eyebrow as though to ask ’well?’. Chantelle leaned up, pressing a brief kiss to her wife’s lips.

“Is this it?” Chantelle asked as they all proceeded back to the house.

“One more thing. Nothing awkward I promise.” They returned to their room, each changing into their pajamas. Marceline climbed into bed, pulling Chantelle into her arms.

“So what is this one last thing?”

“Oh, right. You have to drink a bit of my blood. That will bind you to me so you no longer age.”

“That’s it?”

“The ceremony earlier was just as important. It won’t work otherwise.” Marceline brought her wrist to her mouth, biting down firmly. Blood weld at the wound. Chantelle eyed it suspiciously, but took Marceline’s hand, bringing it to her lips. It was oddly sweet. “Does my blood taste like this?”

Marceline shook her head, bandaging the wrist quickly. “You taste far better.”

“All of me or just my blood?” Chantelle grinned, slipping an arm around Marceline’s waist.

“All of you.” Marceline returned the grin, leaning forward to kiss her lips. “Every single inch.”

Post Script:

A letter arriving at the Harris house a few days after the wedding:

I wish you the best of luck.


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