Margaret Shield (sophist) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-03-30 23:27:00 |
|
|||
At first, Rupert hadn’t been sure if they’d be able to find time to do this together. His schedule alone was difficult to work around, and he didn’t have the same free time that his sister did. But then he remembered spring break. That gave them freedom, so he booked an appointment for them at a tailor in Washington D.C. They could make a day of it. Get started on the sort of style they wanted, the fabrics, the colors, and then have lunch in the city. It’d been a while since they got to spend proper time together, especially since he’d moved in with Nina and Sarah had moved in with Margaret. Truth be told, he missed seeing his sister practically every day. He’d told the tailor he was looking for something in a gray - for an outdoor wedding in the fall, Rupert and Nina thought it would look less harsh against the fall colors than a black. He was jittery, though, as they waited for the tailor to come back with samples. Not in a bad way, of course. On the contrary, the nervous energy was out of excitement. Every time he and Nina made a decision, it became more and more real. Each day was one day closer to the wedding itself, and before he knew it, it would be the day, and then it would be the rest of their lives. He couldn’t wait. “I’m glad you’re here,” he commented, leaning towards his sister slightly. “I think this would all be quite a lot more overwhelming without you.” Margaret intended to be a support and a ballast for her brother, in much the same way that he’d been for her all the years in which she’d run from whatever her parents required of her. She leaned against her brother’s shoulder and smiled, reaching out to pour him a glass of water from a very fancy silver pitcher. She smiled. “You’re going to be handsome as you can be, brother mine. I like the grey,” then she caught sight of another grey fabric out of the corner of her eye. It was trimmed in a lightly embroidered art deco pattern. She gestured to that bolt. “That one is my favourite.” He’d liked the idea of grey, too, right from the start. It seemed a bit less formal (which he knew his parents wouldn’t approve of), and since they were hoping for an outdoor wedding (weather permitting, of course), he didn’t think black tie was appropriate. He could see himself in a waistcoat, maybe they could get suspenders for Margaret. His eyes found the pattern she was looking at, and he raised his eyebrows. “Do you see me in that pattern? Or do you mean for you?” “ … I think it looks dwarven,” she said and let her voice drop when she uttered the last word. She hadn’t spoken much about their memories since he moved in with Nina; they shared a world and it was something that a twin could not even touch. But she was reverential about it. And she wanted to be aware of it. “Maybe for a waistcoat or a pocket square, love.” “Oh.” Rupert tipped his head to the side slightly and looked again. She wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t considered incorporating anything elvish or dwarven, truthfully. They’d been drawn to the idea of an outdoor wedding because that was what Kili and Tauriel would have wanted, that was true. But as far as the decorative aspects were concerned, it hadn’t crossed his mind. When he looked back at his sister, Rupert was grinning. “See, that’s why I need you. That’s brilliant. Dwarves were very specific about things like that from what I can tell. I think Kili would’ve tried to be very elaborate if he could have.” “I think it makes sense to take a bit of it with you,” was simply said. Even if Margaret vied with Peggy more and more, she appreciated the depth it brought to her interactions with the world. With Sarah. And she smiled. “Kili was a prince. Of course elaboration would be the name of the game.” A smile. “Yes. I’m reading up so I know what you’re on about.” Instead of feeling uncomfortable by the idea of Margaret reading up on The Hobbit and its world, Rupert discovered he actually felt relieved. There was so much he knew now, and it would be easier to share it with her if she was familiar, too. “Not the heir, though,” Rupert reminded her, “so he would’ve had more freedom.” If only he’d survived. “But yes, I think he would’ve wanted to include a bit of himself, and a bit of Tauriel. He would’ve found a middle ground where their communities wouldn’t have.” She smiled. “So my brother should have a pocket square that reminds him of a life that was his. But he should also have something that reminds him of the life he’s living.” Fishing in her pocket for a moment, she came up with a delicately wrought metal flower. “I’m going to have it fashioned into a pin for this pocket square. It was great grandmum’s -- the Munitionette.” His sister wasn’t wrong (she rarely was, in his experience) about how he needed something that reminded him of the life he was living at the moment, too, but that wasn’t what he pictured. “No, Margaret, I --” Rupert didn’t even know how she squirreled that away, but he couldn’t imagine taking it. “You should keep that.” “No. I’m giving it to you,” she said resolutely. “I’d planned on it but I want you to know.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You are the most important thing in the world to me, brother. We have a long history and a family binds us to this world as much as our memories bind us to the other. Carry them both on your road.” Rupert still very much wanted to object, but when he took the flower from her, he instantly knew he couldn’t. She was right, after all. He needed something to tether him to this world, too, and this gift represented their history, their relationship. In his mind, he could see himself picking up finely detailed pieces of armour, each with a history and a meaning behind it. No, that wasn’t quite right. He could see Kili. “Tell you what. I’ll wear it, and when - if you and Sarah decide to get married, you can use it, too.” “Alright, brother. I accept.” She threw her arms around him impulsively, giving him a tight hug. It was the perfect opportunity to whisper the pride she felt, the incomparable love, the connection she’d always have with him. No matter what. When she pulled away, the tailor waited patiently with a broad smile. “Who’s first?” No matter what. His relationship with his sister mirrored Kili’s with his brother in so many ways, and making an effort to find his way back to Margaret was one of the best things he’d done in his life. A piece of him had been missing when he was away from her. He’d never let that happen again. Rupert stood up at the tailor’s question, and shrugged. “Sorry, sis, but it’s my day,” he said with a sly grin. Standing there, getting fitted and measured, Rupert could see a similar moment in Kili’s life - not a wedding, of course, but the process of finding the right armor, putting it on, preparing for battle. He knew that moment of Kili’s life had teetered on the edge of fear and hope. As he looked at himself in the mirror beyond the tailor’s head, all he saw was hope - and the best way to do Kili’s memory some justice, by following both of their dreams. |