mayachain

Title: She for you
Characters: Ronon/Amelia, ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~470
Summary: the American/Satedan hybrid of a wedding
Notes: Follows Six Improbable Weddings and precedes End of an Engagement.

* * *

Woolsey uses a lot more words than during McKay and Sheppard’s wedding. Amelia is not really religious, but there are phrases she said her mother and grandmother would have wanted. Woolsey is not a priest, for all that some Ronon has seen on TV sort of dress like him and he can pull off the preaching. Only the occasional warmth that slides over his stern expression as he looks at Ronon and Amelia lifts the whole thing into the spiritual.

Ronon can’t help but think of Councilor Frall, authoritative and kind as he bound his nephew Kell’s best Specialist to Melena. He thinks the old man would have approved of the choice Ronon made long before today. Melena would have, of that Ronon is certain.

He’s so busy imagining Melena giving her blessing to his new wife that it takes him by surprise when the next words drifting by his ears are Satedan. Deliberate as is necessary to keep a specific language untouched by the Stargate, they come across as fluent as if Woolsey were a native. “Step forward all who have come to witness the joining of this woman and this man.” Ronon can’t remember telling anyone here about this part. Someone must have visited the Settlement.

Only a handful of the people assembled in the mess hall can actually understand what is being said. Still, when Woolsey’s last word rings through the mess hall, everyone stands to attention and moves as requested. From her place to Amelia’s right, Teyla smiles approvingly.

“The rings,” Woolsey calls in English. Practiced – it’s his second time as a ring bearer, after all – and not at all shy about the Lanteans and Athosians around them, Torren walks to the front and holds up a silver plate. The smaller gold band feels cool to the skin of Ronon’s palm.

“She for you, you for her, bound together,” Woolsey says, as Ronon slides the ring onto Amelia’s finger. “He for you, you for him, bound together.”

For a moment after the touch of Amelia’s hand leaves him and Woolsey is finished, Ronon can’t breathe. His chest seizes up, and he feels like he might cry in front of all these people. Then Woolsey adds, “I pronounce you lawfully married,” Sheppard drawls, “You may kiss the bride,” Amelia leans in, and everything is alright.

It’s chaste, for them . There is no tongue, but he can feel her smile, joy written all over her face, her arms around his neck, her ringed hand on his cheek. Just before she pulls away, Amelia nips at his lower lip in a promise of things to come.

And in the background, there may not be a congratulatory clanging of swords, but the Athosians are stomping their bantos rods, marines and scientists alike are shooting blanks, and Amelia is his wife.

Ronon has arrived where he belongs.

* * *