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The Curator walked around with a soft smile on her face. She’d just put the final bouquet into place - the Memory Zone was now decorated with collections of pink and purple hydrangea flowers, the soft tones of early summer falling over the space. Green trees, the bluebells in full bloom, the air light and warm - it was all perfect.
She had to hand it to them, her brother and Stanley had chosen the most beautiful place in the Parable for their wedding. And when Stanley was the one to approach her about having her help with decorations?
Well, suffice to say he’d gone way up in her ranks.
The whole affair was already very… them. It was the perfect mix of impromptu and planned - not too formal, not too informal. In essence, it felt exactly like what it was. A little ceremony between two people who didn’t want a huge fuss, just a way to show their adoration for one another.
She’d been, well, honoured when her brother asked her to be the Maid of Honour. Sure, she had been the natural choice, but the Narrator was one to keep things close to his chest. Even the idea of him having a wedding had been a small, shaky step outside his comfort zone.The Curator was proud of him for that.
She had already declared to the two of them that she’d officiate, too. Or rather, she’d demanded it and been met with no resistance, then flapped all six hands so hard in her excitement that the Narrator had been half convinced she’d take off. The memory had brought a smile to her face.
One last check of the arrangements. Notebook in hand, she ticked everything off in a glittery green-blue pen. Bouquets? Check. Little wedding arch? Check. Miniature pillar for the bucket? Check. Lovely weather? Well, it was out of her control, but considering it was early summer… Check.
Right. Finally, a little time for a breather. She’d been working herself up over the wedding all morning.
The Curator made her way over to the Memory Zone cabin’s patio, letting out a sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, as per her rules, the Narrator and Stanley got ready on opposite sides of the cabin - in completely different rooms. The Curator had insisted on keeping some semblance of suspense, and they had both agreed to her demands.
Both being and worker readied themselves, and Stanley walked outside, whereas his fiancé made his way to the patio, his mind swimming ever-so-slightly.
The Narrator walked over to the figure sat down in a rocking chair on the cabin patio. She was wearing a nice dress, her hair done wonderfully. She looked every bit a Maid of Honour. He placed a calm upper hand on her shoulder.
“...Something wrong, Curie? I’ve never seen you so quiet.”
The Curator looked up at her little brother with wistful eyes, and a small smile on her face. She reached a hand up, squeezing his.
{I’m alright, Narr. Really. Just… Thinking, you know?}
The shorter being held back the urge to make a joke, instead electing to sit next to her.
Quiet hung in the air for a long moment.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She breathed in, then let out a heavy sigh. Her eyes were misty.
{It feels… so strange. You, here, about to go and get married.}
The Narrator let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, letting her continue.
She didn’t speak for a moment, before letting out a shaky breath.
{I’ve- Narr, I’ve known you since the day you were born. You were so little, so precious. So sweet, so fussy, so clumsy. And I’ve adored you for every day since. You were always clinging to my skirt, to my leg… You always needed me.}
The Narrator put an arm around her, pulling her close.
{Everyone I’ve ever met talks about their little siblings as a nuisance. A pain or a necessary evil. But you…
I don’t know how much you remember of your babyhood, Narr. But you were always around me. You wanted me to read to you, you wanted to watch me make my mosaics. You’d come running in to show me something you found, and you’d beam up at me.
And… before I’ve known it, you’ve grown up. Here you are, standing - well, sitting - before me, about- about to get married…}
She let out a teary giggle.
{I want you to know I’m so, so proud of you, Narr. I always have been. A-and if you ever need anything - you or Stanley - I’ll be right here.}
She got choked up, wiping her eyes carefully.
{I know you’re all grown up now, but you’ll always be that sweet, golden-eyed boy tugging on my skirts with a picture book in your hands, okay? My little nebula…}
There was a distinctly soft quietness in the air, with a sniffle from each every now and then. The Narrator gently punched her arm.
“You’ve made me cry now, you daft sod…”
She chuckled.
{Sorry, Narr. I didn’t mean to get so emotional.}
“Me neither. Makes two of us, mm?”
He leaned his head on her shoulder.
“Love you, Curie. I- I want you to know…”
He swallowed thickly.
“...even if we fight, or if I get all huffy with you, I…
I’ll always be your baby brother. Yeah?”
The Curator nodded, wiping her eyes once more.
{Yeah.}
She let out a sigh, before patting her brother’s lower hand.
{Come on, kid. You’ve got a wedding to attend. Can’t leave your groom waiting, eh?}
The Narrator nodded, drying his eyes with a short laugh, before taking his sister’s hand.
The wind rustled softly through the bushes, wooden wind chimes softly clacking together every now and then. The call of birds twittered softly through the air of early summer in the Memory Zone, as Stanely stood waiting in front of the makeshift arch. The more he and the Narrator had explored the Memory Zone’s exterior together, the more beautiful it had become. A small stream, a pond - they’d even discovered a little meadow of wildflowers - campanulas, forget-me-nots, daisies galore. The two of them would sit in that meadow sometimes, and the content sigh the Narrator would always let out made Stanley’s heart feel full. He didn’t often see the being relax like that.
Despite the soft breeze, Stanley’s hair stayed styled. He wondered how the Narrator had fared so far - he had much fluffier hair, after all. Though he wasn’t sure his fiancé (husband, after today, he reminded himself) would appreciate such an adjective.
He adjusted the sprig of lavender on his lapel, then checked that the emotional reassurance bucket hadn’t fallen in the wind. It stayed upright proudly, the sturdiest best man - er, bucket - he could have chosen. Stanley’s hands shook slightly in anticipation.
The door to the Memory Zone cabin opened.
Walking down the path, escorted by the Curator, was his Narrator, dressed in a gorgeous pale blue suit, even a bowtie. The being walked, breaths shaky, quiet devotion adorning his features. As he and his sister reached the arch, the Curator gave a small smile, letting go of his hand and walking between the two of them. Stanley gazed at the Narrator, trying to commit every single detail of the way he looked on such a wonderful day to his memory.
After a minute or so, the Curator cleared her throat.
{If you two would so kindly stop devouring each other with your eyes for a moment?}
Stanley let out a quiet chuckle, and the Narrator went a lovely shade of pink.
“Oh, stop teasing and get on with it, Curie…”
{Okay, okay. Now, if you’re both ready?}
Stanley reached out and squeezed the Narrator’s upper hand for a moment, nodding. The Narrator similarly voiced his affirmation. The Curator took in a breath.
{We gather here on this beautiful day in the most important place in the whole Parable. This space will be a cradle of the memories the two of you make together for aeons to come, and will be a comforting home that is forever welcoming of you both. Stanley, if you’d like to give your vows?}
She gave Stanley a sweet smile of reassurance as he nodded. His hands shook a little as he began.
[Narrator. I know that you’re the more wordy out of the two of us, but in this moment, I want you to know how much I adore you. I’d move heaven and Earth just to see you smile. You are passionate about that which you love, you’re sweet despite sometimes trying to hide it. You’re enthusiastic, you’re funny, you’re wonderful, and it isn’t enough for me just to tell you I love you because to me, you are love.]
He took in a shaky breath, steadying himself.
[And I would be honoured to be your husband, and for you to be mine. Even after the end of the Universe, if it ever ends.]
He presented a ring identical to the one the Narrator had given him upon his proposal. The Narrator let him slide it onto the ring finger of his upper left hand, then interlocked their fingers for a gentle moment, squeezing his hand.
Wordlessly, and with misty eyes, the Curator gestured for the Narrator to declare his vows in turn. The Narrator took a breath in and nodded, gently passing Stanley’s hand to one of his lower ones.
“My darling Stanley…”
He began, letting out a quiet chuckle as Stanley watched with wide eyes. The Narrator was signing along with his words.
“...I don’t think it’s much of a secret that you are everything to me. Even before we realised our love, you were my whole world. How grateful I am that we outgrew those bumpy days. How indebted I am to the Universe for allowing me to fall in love with such a wonderful man.”
He cleared his throat lightly as his voice broke from emotion.
“All of my days before have led up to this. All the time I did not know you was a simple practice run, since in knowing you, in adoring you so wholeheartedly, my life has truly begun. And so, no matter how redundant it may seem, I am over the stars and the moon for us to be one in this way. For us to be husbands.”
Stanley smiled at him through a gloss of tears, with the Narrator similarly watery-eyed.
The Curator tried to hide a sniffle, which prompted the three of them to break into teary giggles of joy.
{Oh, goodness, look at you two. Go on, my dears. Kiss your husband.}
The two of them obliged gladly, meeting in a soft, gentle kiss. Stanley held his husband’s face in his hands, stroking his cheeks, pulling back from the kiss to look into those golden eyes. The Narrator beamed, leaning into the touch with quiet euphoria.
Noiselessly, Stanley mouthed a single word.
“Mine.”
Another quiet chuckle trickled from the Narrator.
“Yes, my darling. I am yours. And you are mine. And I love you.”
Stanley gave him another kiss, before turning to the Curator.
[Thank you. For officiating. I’m glad you think I’m good enough for your brother.]
He gave a smile as she grinned.
{It was the least I could do. Though, out of sibling obligation, I do have to tell you that if you ever do a thing to break my baby brother’s heart, I’m punting you into the Sun, got that?}
She quipped, cackling as she saw the Narrator’s red face.
“Oh my god, Curie, do you have to be so embarrassing?”
{Of course I do. It’s my job, remember?}
Her tone was sweet, yet mildly teasing. She then addressed the worker once more.
{In all seriousness, Stanley, I’m honoured to have a brother-in-law like you. I know how happy you make grumblebug over here, and I’m grateful for that. My door is always open to you.}
Stanley thanked her, then faced his husband once again, whose tone became soft.
“Stanley, shall we walk to the meadow?”
A gentle nod.
{Ah, just one more thing, boys!}
“Hmm? Yes, Curie?”
{I’m taking some pictures. I want to have at least some tangible souvenirs from today, yeah?}
An exaggeration of an eyeroll and a pair of soft chuckles greeted her, but never was there a word of protest. Later, as her brother and his husband sat in a meadow of wildflowers and summertime bliss, the Curator would decorate her own personal corner of her Museum with a new prized possession. The Narrator’s and Stanley’s smiles shone with warmth, adoration, and true joy, and she felt the buzz of excitement the day had brought calm itself to a gentle presence of contentment.
And her brother was happy. And his husband was happy.
And, with that knowledge, the Curator was happy.