No one really wanted 1,500 words of Lyn and Hector and Sacaen wedding traditions but I don’t care.

Headcanon heavy and also super embarrassing.

Lyn hadn’t had much time to get used to Lycian traditions,
but even so she could tell a marked difference between Ostia and Caelin. Hector
was not so unusual a nobleman as she had thought at first, but a product of his
people. The Ostians were frank and open, curious about her, and somehow more
respectful than even her own people had been.

In Caelin her resemblance to her mother had been remarked
upon, but there was always a disconnect. People couldn’t seem to see past the
darker shade of her skin, the accent that marred her Elibean common, her very
un-Lycian views about nobility.  

In Ostia, opinions were more divided, and strongly so. Those
who had supported Uther, and who tentatively put their support behind Hector,
viewed her as a strong warrior first, a tie to another territory second, and a
Sacaen third. Those who had opposed Uther were even more strongly set against
his brother, and paid her little consideration at all – except to insult her
mixed-parentage.

That didn’t bother her. She had heard much the same from
Marquis Araphen, and many others along the way. Those words mattered scant more
than the twittering of the birds outside the windows, especially in light of
other current events.

Ostia had gained two Marquis in far too short a time, and
there was unrest both from within and without. Hector’s ascension ceremony had
been arranged with all possible haste, and he was Marquis Ostia before his
wounds had even begun to heal. Now her wedding was being arranged with the same
speed. After all, the Marquis needed a wife, and Ostia needed an heir.

The preparations were less ostentatious than those for the
few weddings she had seen in Lycia, but still nothing like what she thought her wedding would be like, back
when she was only Lyn of the Lorca. That wasn’t who she was any longer. Now she
was Lady Lyndis, soon to be Lady Ostia, and so she tried to accept it with
dignity.

Hector, however, knew her better.

He stopped her on her way through the garden. “Let’s go for
a ride in the park,” he said. It was short, as usual, without preamble. Even
being Marquis didn’t encourage him to speak any more politely.

Lyn raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you have meetings today?” A
fair question. It seemed Hector had meetings every day, in some cases assuaging
fears and in others offering not-at-all veiled threats. Soon enough Lyn would
be joining him, but not until after the wedding.

Hector shrugged. “They’ll wait. The horses are already
saddled.”

“Well, someone’s confident today hm? Do you think you’ll be
able to stay in the saddle this time?”

“If I don’t, it’s only because my teacher has been slacking.”
Hector reached forward and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go, Lyn! Pox on the nobles,
we ought to be allowed a day to ourselves now and then.” When he began tugging
her in the direction of the stables, Lyn didn’t protest at all.

*

The park was where Lyn went whenever she was feeling
homesick. It was nothing at all like Sacae, where the grass rolled on until it
touched the sky, but it was still better than the crowded streets of Ostia, and
the heavily fortified military garrison that served as its castle. The park was
behind the castle, just outside the walls. Part meadow and part woods, it meant
to be hunted on and ridden through by the Marquis and his family. Neither Uther
nor Hector had hunted there with any regularity, so it had begun to take on a
slightly wild aspect. Not truly wild, but less maintained than the gardens or
the flawless expanse of lawn within the walls, it was the only place in the
whole city that seemed familiar to her.

Hector did manage to keep his seat, so Lyn had to find
another way to tease him. Not that it was hard. “Now that you can manage one of
these, we’ll have to visit Sacae sometime so I can put you on real horse.”

He didn’t take the bait.

“I’d like that….to visit Sacae with you sometime,” he said. So
serious, so awkward, so unlike Hector. Lyn had only known him to talk like that
a few times, and hearing him do it now worried her.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, hands tightening
automatically on the reins. Her horse tossed its head, irritated by the sudden
tension, and she forced herself to relax, to breath, to wait for Hector to
explain himself.

“I have something for you, and I didn’t want to give it to
you in front of the jackal pack,” he said. He nudged his horse closer to hers, close
enough that she could feel the fabric of his trousers rubbing against her leg.
From his pocket, he pulled two velvet pouches, one red and one blue. He handed
the red one to her.

“Not both?” she asked, teasing again.

This time he did smile. “Greedy! This one’s mine. Open it.”

She poured the contents of the bag out into her palm. A thin
silver chain, glinting in the sunlight. Directly in the middle were two larger,
diamond-shaped links, locked together. The symbol worn by wives all over the
Sacaen plains. Lyn looked over at him, speechless.

Hector held up his own necklace – gold instead of silver,
thicker than her own, the two intersecting shapes on his were circles, not diamonds.
“I know it’s usually a ring, but there’s already wedding rings in my family. I
thought a necklace would do just as well.”

“How did you know?”

“I bullied Guy into telling me. Here.” He leaned forward and
took the necklace from her hand, undoing the clasp and fastening it around her
neck. The large, battle-scarred hands that had helped kill a dragon were
delicate as lace against her throat.

There was nothing mocking or serious to say in a moment like
this. She only reached over and did the same for him. The golden chain stood
out against the dark blue of his tunic, bringing a little decoration to his
usually plain style. It fit, as if it had always belonged there, and had only
now found its way home.

She understood the ride, now. A Sacaen wedding was always
performed under open air, and a Sacaen engagement was usually proceeded by a
long ride. Not easy to do here in populous Ostia but, as he so often did,
Hector still managed to do and say the right thing at the right time.

“There’s words too, I know. I didn’t forget. Well….I did
forget, but I’ll do it anyway.”

Lyn could only smile as he did his best to say the marriage
vows she grew up hearing. “Your accent is terrible,” she said when he was done.
But she repeated the words after him, glad to have a chance to speak her own
language again, even gladder for a chance to say words she didn’t think she
ever would, words that, in a language full of grace and beauty, still seemed to
stand out.

Hector gazed back at her, smiling slightly, eyes softened
with an expression of amused affection that he only shared with her. “When your
hand is clasped in mine, I’m stronger,” he said, repeating the first line in
the common tongue. He held out his hand.

Lyn took it, and took up the verse where he left off. “When
your words join mine, I’m wiser.”

“When your steps match mine, I’m braver,” he said.

“So I’ll ride beside you, if you’ll have me,” Lyn said.

Then Hector joined her, as if they planned it, and they
spoke the remaining lines together. “I’ll ride beside you, until the rivers run
dry, until the moon swallows the sun, until the stars fall from the sky like
rain. Not until then will our paths diverge.”

They both allowed a natural silence to form after the words,
a moment to think about what they had said and what they had learned.

Hector spoke first. “It sounds better in Sacaen.”

“What doesn’t?”

There was still an awkwardness in the way he held himself
and the way he spoke. There was more that Hector wanted to say, Lyn knew, but
he didn’t know how to say it. He didn’t need to say it. She had come a long way
from thinking he was just some brute with an axe.

They both spoke more through actions than words, so Lyn
leaned forward and showed him what she thought. When she broke the kiss, it was
with the satisfaction of seeing a dazed look on his face – another expression
that only she got to see.

“I’ll race you back to the castle,” she said, and brought
her horse around to face the way that they had come.

Hector grinned, the same grin he had worn in sparring
matches and in battles, in every competition they’d ever had. “I hope you’re
ready to lose, because I’ve been taught by the best.”

“We’ll see!”

Both horses took off in a thunder of hooves.
Later, when they reached the castle gate, neither Lyn nor Hector felt it
necessary to mention that they’d arrived at the same time.