{sweet nothings} Moss Wedding {open!}

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you took my heart and you held it in your mouth
and with a word all my love came rushing out
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They tell stories, back in District One. About foolhardy women agreeing to marriage and then realizing at the very last minute that they aren't up to it. About girls, too young, committing themselves to a man and then remaining stuck in the trap they've brought upon themselves for the rest of their lives. There was even an old wives' tale about a kind daughter of a humble District One jeweler being wooed by a rich Capitol man who eventually turned out to be a rapist-slash-axe-murderer who took advantage of her and then killed her in the middle of the night. Charming stories, huh? All designed to warn a girl not to give away her maidenhood before it was prudent to. But Topaz Ross was beyond all that; she could handle anything, marriage included. No husband of hers, particularly not Maverick Miles, would dare to try that shit with her. And besides, her maidenhood? That was already long gone.

They say in the lower districts those same tales were told, but for a reason kept much more cautiously under wraps: those people warned against marrying because marriage meant children, and children were not safe from the Reaping. Of course, that was plenty true for the upper districts as well; if Topaz and Maverick were to have children, regardless of his Capitol citizenship, Tope would be obligated to raise them in her home district and enter them into the Reaping just like every other child. The difference was, though, in One, being Reaped was considered an honor, rather than a curse. Sure, One parents still didn't like the prospect of losing their child, but the idea of the extensive riches and fame brought on by a victory far exceeded that fear. Train your kid up to be a winner, and maybe they'll make it all worthwhile. Just maybe.

But on the afternoon of her wedding, the 56th Victor wasn't thinking about children. In fact, she wasn't thinking much at all; earlier that morning the other recent victors had ambushed her, woken her up, and engaged her in a heated game of beer pong in which she'd consumed enough alcohol to get her significantly drunk. The effects were wearing off by the time she was preparing to slip into her wedding dress, of course, but slowly enough that her veins still buzzed with the welcome feeling of mild intoxication. Anything to help her get through the ceremony; the party would be much more tolerable. Parties always were.

Kaiser had designed her dress, of course, but he was nowhere to be found at two in the afternoon (an hour before the ceremony, which was to be held at three in the City Circle, with enough guests to form a small army) as an Avox assisted in helping the redhead don the exquisite gown. It was strapless, as Topaz's favorite garments often were, and flowed down her body in simple, elegant folds of silk. For once, the number was not bejeweled—according to Kaiser, "your hair is vibrant enough, darling, without adding sparkly gems to the mix"—and she wasn't even wearing a necklace. There were only two things that shimmered on her person; one, a pair of silver earrings that her mother had worn at her own wedding, and two, the glistening, pure diamond beauty circling her left ring finger, given to her by Maverick a few months before during the Olympics.

Maverick. She was subjecting herself to this whole ordeal because she needed him, but did she really love him? Wasn't marriage intended to be about love, the intense, burning, passionate kind felt once, at most twice, in a lifetime? Topaz had been spending the past year attempting to push the truth away; she didn't love Mav in that way. She'd only ever loved one person that way, and not the one she was about to marry. But she could pretend, for his sake, and for her own, because in all honesty the floundering, broken champion could not bear the thought of being without him. He anchored her, at those times when she most desperately needed an anchor. He gave her what no one else could, and for that, the least she could do was marry him.

The next hour passed by in a flowery, aromatic, congratulatory blur. At one point before she left her apartment her mother appeared, and, to the soon-to-be-married woman's immense surprise, began to cry. Tope had seen mother dearest cry about twice in her lifetime: the first, when she'd come off of the train after winning the Games (and Topaz still suspected that had been more for the cameras than for anything else) and once about two years before, crouched in a kneeling position on the threshold of Sapphire's vacant room, silent tears running down her cheeks when she thought no one had been watching. After giving her daughter a kiss for good luck and exclaiming how proud she was, she bustled out to the limousine that would be taking her to the Capitol center. Tope would follow behind shortly, but she was startled first by the sudden appearance of her former stylist, who had been missing in action up until that point.

"Nice of you to show up." Topaz, at this point a fluffed up, made-up marshmallow, sat back on her sofa, crossed her arms, and stared at her companion. He was dressed for the occasion—a tux and bow tie worthy of the latest trends, of course—and held out to her a single flower. On further inspection, she saw that it was a tiger lily. He didn't say anything for a moment, but finally spoke up. "Are you sure?" he asked, quite simply, and somehow the redhead knew he wasn't referring to her sarcastic greeting. She sighed. "Yes, Kaiser, I am," she mumbled, sounding a lot less confident than she was claiming to be.

She didn't know what she was expecting him to do after her response; question her further, maybe. Tell her she shouldn't go through with it. Share a personal anecdote about why marriage was a dreadful commitment. Instead, he merely nodded. "Alright then," said Kaiser, and he held out his arm. Topaz gratefully took it, and allowed the truest friend she had to escort her out to the limousine waiting to whisk her off into the unknown.