Work Text:
Clive ran his hands along his face anxiously, his fingers bumping over his scar and through the scruff on his chin.
Everyone had begged him to shave for today. But when he’d told Jill of his resolve, she’d chuckled and run her own hand along his cheek, her nails scratching through his light beard. “I like it,” she’d said. “Tell them all you’re going to keep it for me.”
He’d neatly trimmed it, but he felt much better without having a clean-shaven face. He’d attended several formal events before and none of them required him chopping the hair off his face. Though Tarja did take an inch off the hair atop his head.
The door burst open, and Joshua burst through. “Alright, I’ve just spoken to Jill.”
“How is she?”
Joshua looked Clive over, a wry smile crossing his lips. “Nervous. Just as you are.”
“I’m not nervous,” Clive said back, mustering all the bravado he could. “What would I have to be nervous about?”
Except if Jill backed out at the last moment. If Mid decided to blow up the hideaway. If Uncle Byron drunkenly fell into the water. If Clive himself couldn’t figure out what to do. No, there was certainly nothing to be nervous about.
“It’s not every day you get married, Clive. It’s okay to be nervous.”
Clive felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of Jill by his side in just a short while, standing together as husband and wife. The swell of pride that warmed him was hard to ignore. He’d longed for this day for years.
To think, just months ago, they’d been lying naked in their bed staring up at the ceiling perfectly comfortable in each others’ arms when Jill had rolled onto him, her finger lightly running circles along his chest.
“When we were children, I wished on Metia to be with you. To marry you some day. Did you know that?”
Clive had smiled. “I didn’t. I’m shocked you didn’t want to marry Joshua.”
“He’s my brother.”
“But I never was?”
She’d shaken her head and rested her ear by his heart. “You were always more.”
“It’s never too late, you know,” Clive said, stroking her hair. “We can make your childhood wish come true… if that’s still something you desire.”
“Is it what you desire, Clive?”
He paused, sitting up ever so slightly so he could get a better look into her wide, shimmering eyes. “More than anything.”
"As it is for me."
He'd rolled her beneath him and kissed her as if they never had before, fresh as the first time. And the next day, they'd commissioned Blackthorne for rings to work on. He'd called for Zoltan to come to the hideaway to help him craft only the finest rings.
For Clive, obsidian stone that shone in the light, reflecting flickering flames off the dark surface as they smelted the material all the way until it had been worked into its perfect circle, and even then. And for Jill, the finest platinum, tinged ever so slightly with the lightest of blue hues, it glistened, awaiting the finger it would rest on for all her days.
Clive hoped Mid hadn't lost them. Why had they put her in charge of the rings?
"I am a bit nervous," Clive admitted to Joshua, watching his hand shake, clenching a fist to try to stop it. "Why am I nervous? It's Jill."
Joshua took a seat. "Why are you nervous, Brother? Do you truly know?"
Clive paced a moment before sitting across from Joshua. "What if I do everything wrong? What if I make her life hell?"
"Do you plan to?"
"Of course not!"
"Then what gives you the impression that you would?"
Clive ran a hand through his hair, messing it up before trying to smooth it back down. "I don't know. Maybe... I just don't know what to do. I've never seen a marriage to seek to emulate. Uncle Byron never married. I rarely saw the Lord Commander act as a husband. Founder forbid I base anything off our parents' marriage or Jill will have me killed." Joshua scoffed, but let Clive continue. "I grew up around Bearers who were sent out to die, not to live. None of them had a life outside what they were allowed.
"Clive," Joshua said, glancing at the door for a long moment before turning back to his brother. "Do you love Jill?"
"Of course," Clive said, gesturing around, as if his existence wasn't proof enough. The day he was born, though neither Joshua nor Jill had yet to come into the world, his fate was written in blood. He'd been born to exist for Jill, born to come into her life, to smile with her and dance with her and laugh with her. He'd been born for Joshua, born to be his brother's shield, his protector, his friend. And he would fight until his last breath for the two of them.
Joshua stood up and clapped Clive on the back. "Then you know what to do. You keep loving her."
"Sounds so easy."
"It's not."
Clive grinned. "Oh? Are you experienced with this, Brother?"
Joshua shoved Clive's head, messing his hair up again. "Don't be an arse. Today's about you and Jill." He grabbed Clive's gloves. "You wearing these?"
"For the ceremony."
Joshua handed the white gloves over. "You look so much like how I remember father. Except your hair. Father had better hair."
"You're one to talk," Clive laughed, sliding elaborate white vambraces on over brown gloves. He stood, going to adjust his chainmail before realizing he wasn't wearing any. He didn't need armor today. Everyone else had taken up guard duties and patrols, Otto was on call should there be an emergency.
But he did fix his red surcoat that sat over a grey jerkin and black pants. He examined the surcoat; Jill had embroidered it with the Rosarian crest just below where his belt fell, and she'd helped him try to recall the floral leaf patterns that his father adorned often.
He'd wondered at first if it was rude to wear such a replica of his father's clothes rather than sifting through the ashes and rubble to try to find something of his father's to actually wear. But it wasn't as if Jill had anything of her family's to wear either. So, they'd both settled for their memories.
Clive had seen her dress hanging for weeks now. It was traditional of the Northern Territories with some of Rosarian tradition sprinkled in. The long neck of a Rosarian, the layers of a Northerner. In fact, it reminded him very much of the dresses she wore as a child. She'd mentioned that she'd be wearing boots just in case something happened and they needed to move fast. How long had they lived with such a shadow looming over them that neither of them could relax even for a day?
"Clive!" Gav's voice rang out, opening the door. "You ready? Tarja says Jill's about done, and you're Uncle is makin' a right mess of himself. You might wanna come out."
Though Clive had relented to everyone's pleas not to carry his large sword for the day, he'd negotiated by refusing to take his second smaller one from his hip instead, so he tied the belt on and tucked it aside.
Joshua gave his shoulders a squeeze before giving him a gentle push towards Gav.
"Ready, Clive?" Gav asked, giving Clive a solid shake.
"Yes. I'm ready."
After fetching Byron from the cask nearby and sitting him down beside Goetz and Harpocrates-- one too nervous to engage with his drunken comments, and the other no stranger to scolding an unruly pupil-- Clive felt much better. He looked around the room as everyone murmured their excitement. Though it wasn't the hideaway's first wedding, it certainly was the biggest.
"Alright you lot, shut your traps and take your seats. I ain't got all bloody day!" Charon said, moving up to the hunt board while everyone else took their seats.
It had been the most surprising part of the wedding.
He and Jill were at Charon's Toll ordering new elixirs for their bags talking about who they might call to the hideaway to perform a legal ceremony, for whatever it was worth. They'd thought perhaps Quinten might have the power to perform the marriage when Charon had scoffed.
"Right, as if a disgraced politician is gonna 'ave the power to marry you. It ain't like he's in the merchant's guild."
"The merchant's guild?"
"'Course! Got meself into a right mess when I were younger 'cause I didn't know. Here these fools were comin' to me, me, askin' me to marry them. So 'course I says no. I ain't a fool with no child askin' me for nothing like that."
"Charon... you're still in the merchant's guild, aren't you?" Clive had asked, leaning forward with a charming smile on his face.
And that was how Charon ended up pacing around with a piece of parchment in her hand, scowling at the floor as her lips moved, practicing words while she waited for everyone to settle.
Clive went up to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for doing this. There's no one I'd rather have."
Charon scoffed. "I weren't born yesterday. Only reason I said yes is because that bloody dog o' yours would'da kept barkin' at me if I didn't."
"Of course," Clive grinned. "Torgal thanks you."
She hummed, the faintest smile making the start of a dimple in her cheek.
Gav walked around and clapped Clive on the shoulder. "You're lookin' good for once. Not lookin' like someone just told you yer mum died."
Clive raised his brow. "Why would that make me sad?"
Gav paused and nodded to himself. "Right. I forgot. Anyways, you best be gettin' up there and lookin' all formal like. Tarja'll be wantin' to see you're ready, and I can go let her know."
"You did good, Gav, getting all of this set up."
"I needed a project."
Clive chuckled and made his way over to Charon and stood with his hands folded in font of him. Joshua was beside Byron, his gestures seeming to tell him to quiet down. He passed Jote giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze before heading to stand beside Clive. He looked much less formal than Clive did, but he too wore clothes reminiscent of ones found in the Rosalith of their past. Gav ran back, a thumbs up to show they were ready.
"If I pass out, just leave me to die," Clive muttered to Joshua as Gav moved to stand beside him and Joshua.
"I am the Phoenix. I cannot do that. And Jill would kill me if I did."
"You know," Clive said, scratching at his neck. "Ifrit feels rather close."
"Clive, you're about to prime because you are triggering your own fight or flight responses. Calm down. You're going to do fine. Jill doesn't expect perfection. She only expects you as you are, flaws and all."
"I don't deserve her."
"Perhaps not. But she wants you regardless."
"Alright, shut it!" Charon snapped, whacking Clive lightly in the head.
The hideaway's musicians played a charming melody as Tarja walked up the steps first and took her place on Jill's side of Charon. Next, Mid, bright eyed and excited, turned around on the stairs.
"Come on, then! Leave her alone for a minute. Come see Clive!"
And Torgal bounded up behind her, tongue hanging out, tail wagging as he followed Mid. He had a bowtie around his neck, and he looked almost proud as he trotted down the aisle they'd made. He barked once at Clive and ran up to him, jumping up onto his chest for pets.
"Good boy," Clive said, petting him and pushing his heavy paws off his surcoat. "Can you sit for me, boy?"
Torgal made a full circle before sitting between Clive and Joshua.
And then Clive looked up, and his eyes met with Jill's.
With Jill, he'd quickly come to understand what it meant to melt before someone. As he looked at her, every muscle relaxed, his jaw dropped from the slack, his eyes softened, his body wavered. He took a step towards her before realizing that wasn't what he was meant to do and he had to force his feet into place. And Jill stood still for a moment too, the widest smile on her face as she stared at him. She was in her simple dress with a crown of snow daisies atop her head and a single one in her hand. Then, her legs moved rather quickly towards him.
Clive reached out his hand when she was close enough, and Jill took it.
"Hello," she whispered through cheeks pinched from grinning so hard.
"Hello," Clive returned, snorting.
"For you," she said, placing the flower into his surcoat. "You don't have to keep it there."
"By my heart? Why wouldn't I?"
Jill laughed at his smug expression and reached up to kiss him. Clive was more than happy to oblige.
"Didn't you want me to do this ceremony, or did you want to just skip to the end?" Charon asked, her brow raised as she watched them.
Clive pressed his forehead into Jill's, reluctant to take a step back. It was only the promise of forever with her that reminded him that they had time.
"Sorry, Charon."
"Alright." Charon cleared her throat. "Today we're 'ere to witness the marriage between Jill Warrick and Clive Rosfield. Now, I know 'alf of you are wonderin' why we need a weddin' when they've been married as long as we known them. But apparently, they've just been dawdlin' and ain't married in the first place, which was a surprise to me, I'll tell you." She cleared her throat again, her eyes scanning the page for a long moment in silence. And when she looked up, she coughed. "You know what, just say your words to each other. We all know about the Founder and all of this crap. You don't need me reading this."
Jill pinched her lips together, trying not to laugh.
Clive reached for Jill's hand before turning to Charon. "Do I have your permission to hold her hand?"
Charon scoffed. "Do what you like. It ain't my weddin."
He smiled and took Jill's hand in his, entwining his fingers through hers, wishing he hadn't gone with the gloves. He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin on his.
"I'll start," Jill said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Clive... when we were children, my life was light and laughter. And for the longest time, that was stolen from me, and I was kept in a darkness I had long since stopped praying to Metia for an end to. But she answered my prayers when she sent you back to me, and light and joy and laughter returned to me. With you, I've found a purpose, a reason to live rather than just to survive. You've given me hope and companionship. You've shown me love. I only hope I've given you even half of what blessings you've gifted to me."
"You have, Jill."
"Don't interrupt," she teased. "I have this memorized. I'll lose my place."
"Sorry."
"You're my heart, Clive. Whatever part of me may petrify from our curse, I know it won't reach my heart with you there to protect it. You're my heart, my light, my joy, and my treasure. And I cannot wait for the moment so soon when I can add 'my husband' to that list."
She took a deep breath and nodded at him. His turn.
"How am I ever to follow that up?" he asked, holding her hand a bit tighter.
"You'll manage."
"Jill... I--"
"Louder!" Mid called. "We can't hear you!"
"I'm not talking to you, am I, Mid?" he asked with a playful scowl.
Jill pressed her hand to Clive's cheek. "Don't worry. There's only us here."
He leaned into it almost reflexively, turning to kiss her palm before she could let her hand fall back to her side.
He tried again. "You've made me into the man I am today, Jill. I was a boy until I found you again. A boy hell bent on revenge. You turned this boy into a man. You helped me come to terms with myself, my actions, my responsibilities. You stood by me when I couldn't bear to stand by myself. You held me up when I felt so weak I could have fallen. You're my rock. When I thought had no family left to call my own, you were the first to help me create a new one. I was a soldier before with no future; ready to die in battle or of a Bearer's death. Now, I want to be an old man in your bed, to live so long my bones ache and the only comfort I have left is in your arms. And that's where I want my life to end. That's the future I see now: by your side for as long as you will have me."
"Our own little family," Jill said with a smile.
"You know what me dad would say?" Mid interrupted. "He'd say that whenever anyone talks about startin' a family of their own, they're announcin' to the world that they are going to hop straight into bed and have--"
"Mid!" Tarja snapped. "There's children around!"
"Oh right. That they'd hop straight to makin' love."
Charon scoffed. "What do you think this here is, a council meeting? Stop talkin.'"
"If that's the kinda think you're talkin' about at them meetings, I ought to go to more of them."
"Mid..." Clive sighed, exasperated.
"What?"
Jill crossed her arms to turn around. "She is her father's daughter."
Charon groaned loudly. "Are we ever gonna get this over with?"
"Sorry," they all said at once, though each of them broke out in childish giggles.
Charon rolled her eyes. "Alright, now, if, for some reason, one of you lot has something to say about why these two shouldn't be wed, speak up or shut your trap."
There was a loud scraping sound of a chair creaking across the wooden floor. Byron was standing, his hand in the air.
“I’d like to speak!” he took a step straight into the table, stumbling.
“Founder,” Clive muttered, listening to the melodic texture of Jill’s voice as she giggled beside him.
“Now!” Byron started. “I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Clive since the day he came bursting into this world. Once, when he was about four or five, he said to me he said ‘ Uncle Byron, do you know what I want to be when I grow up?’ And I said ‘ No Clive, I don’t! Why don’t you tell me!’ And he got up and stood tall with his hand on his hips like he could take on the world and he says, ‘I’m going to be a Chocobo!’” Byron started to laugh, and Jill laughed harder beside Clive, grabbing his arm affectionately. But Byron wasn’t done. “And Jill ran into our lives and the day I met her she says to me, ‘I’m going to raise Chocobos one day!’ So I gave her Clive to take care of! And look what we’ve got now. A proper love story.”
Jill rested her head against Clive’s shoulder, and he kissed her hair.
But Charon waved her hand. “Sit down you drunk sod. This ain’t the toast.”
"I'm not drunk. I'm happy! My nephew is pregnant! And my other should be taking notes!"
Clive's eyes bugged out. "I'm what?"
"Founder help us," Joshua sighed.
Byron waved his goblet. "You just said! You and Jill are making babies! Little Ros...field... War... wick.. Warfield... little babies. I'm going to be a great uncle! Greater than I already am!"
Clive's eyes slid to Jill. "You're not... are you?"
"Not that I'm aware, no. Your uncle is drunk, Clive, not a seer."
Joshua put his hand on Clive's shoulder before passing by him. "I'll take care of this." And Joshua grabbed Byron's arm and pulled him further away, whispering something in his ear. Byron's mouth dropped and his hand shot out excitedly as he whispered back to Joshua. Then, they both returned to their places.
"You done yet?" Charon asked again. "Get them rings out here before somethin' else happens."
Jill turned to Mid, but Mid smiled sweetly. "I thought you two would like someone else to keep an eye on them rings. Check Torgal's bowtie."
Bending down, Jill gave Torgal's face a scratch and Clive saw a bag attached to the bowtie. He grabbed it and dropped the two rings out of it into his palm. "Thank you, Torgal. You kept these safe, didn't you?"
Torgal bent his head back to smile at Clive at the praise, tongue still out, tail still wagging.
Clive handed his ring to Charon. She stared at it. "What? You tryna marry me? Don't put it on my finger."
"I'm asking you to hold this one, Charon, so I can give Jill hers."
She scoffed, snatching the obsidian ring. "Well why didn't you say so?"
Turning his attention to Jill, and feeling the weight of Torgal lying over his feet against his legs, comfortably between them, Clive held Jill's hand. "Let this be my promise made visible that I will always be there for you, Jill."
Jill took the other ring and waited for Clive to pull off his glove, handing it to Joshua before she slid the ring onto his finger. "And I promise you, Clive, that I will also be by your side, always."
"Alright," Charon said, crossing her arms. "By the power granted to me for some godsforsaken reason by the merchant's guild of the Twins, I can pronounce you two married finally. You can kiss now, if you want."
Clive reached forward, but Torgal stood up excited by the movement, leaving too much room to reach Jill. "Go on, Torgal. Over there."
Joshua urged Torgal towards him, and Clive reached for Jill again. Their lips were close, breath warm on the other, eager and excited with a culmination of anticipation ready to finally wash away.
"Ahh!"
They both turned to see Gav on the ground, leg over Torgal.
"Aye! Torgal! Fuck!" he hissed, trying to roll onto his side to get up. But Torgal misunderstood and pounced on Gav, licking his face. "No! I'm not tryin'a play with you!"
"Torgal!" Joshua breathed, pulling him off Gav. "You're so excited for today, aren't you, boy?"
Torgal barked, his tail hitting Gav in the face as he sat up.
Clive turned to Jill and grabbed her waist, pulling her closer to him and pressing his lips to hers before anything else could interrupt. She gasped in surprise and sank into him, reveling in just how soft someone like Clive could be, even despite years of battle-hardening callouses and the rough edge of frown lines that were etched permanently into his brow. Her hand ran along his stubble, and he grinned against her mouth.
"My lady," he whispered, pulling away just enough that his lips brushed hers before kissing her again.
The sound of applause broke them out of their own little world where it was just the two of them, and Clive reached down to pet Torgal, Jill following suit, rubbing his ears before urging him forward to head back down the aisle. Mid followed, and Gav followed, then Tarja, and Joshua, and finally, arm in arm, Jill and Clive made their way down the aisle.
As the hideaway put it, they were finally, finally, married for real, and that was the sweetest sounding sentence that either of them had heard in the longest time. Not only were they with their best friend, but the love of their life. And that was the sweetest relief of all.