Lyssandra rubbed her head. “You people are so loud.”
Trahzi relented. “Very well. I do not plan on ripping off his clothes with my teeth and using my tongue to...”
Stop it! I don’t want to hear the details! Just stand there and be quiet.
Ilrica put her hand on her mouth, trying to keep her giggles from becoming all out laughter.
The brides settled down again, waiting.
“This is taking forever,” Trahzi complained. “I have a question.”
I believe we’ve heard plenty out of you for one night.
“It is important,” Trahzi pressed. “We aren’t doing anything while we stand here, why not discuss it?”
What could possibly be so important that it cannot wait?
Trahzi straightened her back. “There is something I am unclear on.”
What’s that?
“Since we are all his brides, how do we handle the logistics? Do we take turns sleeping with him, or will we all share one big bed?
TRAHZI!
“Bwah! Ha ha ha haaaaa!” Ilrica burst out laughing, holding her sides.
“What?” Trahzi defended. “It’s a valid question.”
Ugh! You are repulsive. Why would you even assume we would share the same bed?
“So, we are to take turns, then?”
No, that is also disgusting.
Zurra raised her hand. “I call first dibs!”
“What’s a dib?” Kalia asked.
Trahzi continued her line of thought. “Do we make a schedule, or just let him pick which one of us he prefers each night?”
No, that’s revolting, why would you even think something like that?
Kalia tapped her chin. “She actually brings up a good point. We do need to have some sort of system in place. Maybe a calendar rotation, or a random number algorithm.”
“As if we could trust you to not slice the program,” Zurra complained.
Kalia stuck out her tongue playfully.
“Ah ha ha! Haaaaahahahaahaaaa!” Ilrica laughed, wiping a tear from her face, nearly smearing her makeup. “Oh, this is the most fun I’ve had in weeks!” She leaned in towards Lyssandra, sore from laughing. “You two were lovers in his last life. Tell us, how was he in bed?”
Cha’Rolette was enraged. I said don’t talk about such things!
Lyssandra blushed. “He was amazing. You are all in for quite a pleasant surprise.”
Zurra was jealous. “Hey, I don’t want to hear about things he did with you, you big dumb smurf!”
Lyssandra began giggling.
Kalia huffed. “Oh, come on, Lyssandra, not you too?”
“Sorry, but it’s true,” Lyssandra mused, recalling good times.
Cha’Rolette threw her bouquet on the ground. Attendants came up swiftly to scoop it up. I’ve been dreaming about my wedding day since I was a little girl, and you trogs are ruining it!
“Yikes, groomzilla, Zurra snickered. “You’re going to scare your bride off if he sees you acting like that.”
Ilrica cleared her throat. “The Duchess is right. This is our wedding day. And on our wedding day, we should all behave like ladies.”
Trahzi was still lost in thought. “Since Ilrica is the eldest bride, she’ll will probably need the most rest time in between turns.”
Ilrica’s jaw dropped open. “What the frakk did you just say?”
Trahzi blinked. “I meant no offense. I was merely trying to...”
“What you can try to do is keep your trap shut, you big red Teletubby! I’m still young for a Bertulf/Korran hybrid!”
Zurra snickered. “Yeah, right, you’re old enough to be my mother.”
Ilrica pointed a glowing claw at her. “I’ll show you mother, I’ll spank you like a rotten cub!”
* * *
Gerald gave his mother a warm hug as she stepped up to the dais. “Emperor Qetimong, may I introduce my mother, Mary Dyson.”
“A pleasure,” he said, bowing deeply.
“Oh, my,” Mary said, fanning herself.
“I cannot help but express our gratitude on behalf of all the free peoples of the Alliance.”
“Oh, it was no big deal,” she said, leaning over towards Gerald.
“You know, Muffin,” she whispered, “When I told you to marry her, I meant just the one.”
Gerald chuckled.
“Is it uncommon on your world to have more than one bride?” the Emperor asked, suddenly concerned.
“Oh, we’re from Utah, it’s not a big deal to us,” Gerald explained.
The Emperor accepted the answer and turned his attention to the next guest.
Gerald hugged his mother again. “It’s so nice to see you, thank you for making it.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
She grabbed his collar and pulled him in close. “I get to live in the palace with the rest of you after this, right?”
Gerald’s eye twinkled. “That depends. I’m afraid we don’t have any server support for True-Life on Central. If you want to live here you’ll have to give it up.”
Mary clucked her tongue and put her hand on her hip. “Shows how much you know. I’ve been clean for two months.”
Gerald brightened up. “Have you really? That’s wonderful.”
She nodded. “Someone up at Ssykes had Harec Toylines figure out what it was that caused addiction in humans. They’ve been slowly removing it from the game code for months now to wean us off of it.”
Gerald nearly jumped for joy. “So, Mr. Conners, Miss Davenport, Mrs. Sophia...?”
“Yes, they’re all clean, and doing quite well for themselves.”
Gerald nearly threw up his fists and shouted before he remembered where he was. “That’s wonderful! Oh, Duchess, you are the best!”
“Which one’s the Duchess?” Mary asked, unable to keep them straight.
“Oh, you’ll love her, mom. She’s refined and unselfish. A true lady.”
* * *
Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu glowed and invisible hands covered the mouths of the other brides.
All of you shut up! We will discuss this no more. The solution is simple. Gerald will spend the nights sleeping with me in my bed.
Trahzi ported three feet to the left, freeing herself. “What, while the rest of us watch?”
Cha’Rolette snarled in anger. What? No, of course not! What is wrong with you people? You are horrid. All of you.
Kalia dropped her brow in offense. “Is that any way to talk to your sister wives?”
“Don’t you EVER call yourselves that again!”
“But that’s what we are.”
I am the head of the Ssykes family. I am no one’s sister wife. Gerald is my groom, and I am his bride. The rest of you are... concubines, at best. Politically attached for appearances sake.
Ilrica held up her ring finger. “Oh yeah? Say that to this big old fat engagement ring!”
“We each got one,” Kalia said, holding up her own.
“Mine is prettier,” Zurra gloated.
Cha’Rolette was aghast. “Did you people just flip me the brell?!
“No, I used my ring finger.”
On my world that’s the one you never point up!
Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu came alive and invisible hands began grabbing at Ilrica’s fingers, pulling at her ring.
“What are you doing?” Ilrica grunted, struggling against an invisible assailant.
Trahzi and Lyssandra backed away to keep from being knocked over.
Give me that ring, you don’t deserve it!
“No way, Gerald gave it to me. It’s one of his special rings!”
Ilrica yanked her hand free and fell backwards, tripping on the heels she was wearing. She landed against the cake table, disturbing one of the six enormous wedding cakes that had been prepared.
Zurra looked on in terror as the wedding topper to her multi-tiered pink cake fell off and came crashing to the floor.
“My wedd
ing topper!” she squealed in anger. “I made it myself.”
Ilrica rose on wobbly feet. “Sorry, Zurra.”
Bubbles rose up through Zurra’s body as if she were boiling. She stretched her hand up, ready to flick the top of Ilrica’s wedding cake.
“Don’t do it!” Ilrica warned.
Zurra flicked the top tier and it fell over, crashing to the bottom tier in utter ruin.
“Oh, you little brat!” Ilrica yelled in anger. “That was supposed to be an offering to Faelan!”
“Well, now it’s garbage!” Zurra said, sticking her tongue out.
“I’ll show you garbage.” Ilrica scooped up Zurra’s wedding topper and took a big honking bite of it.
Zurra squealed in anger. “You bit off my head!”
“What do you know? You do taste like bubble gum.”
“Guys, please stop this,” Kalia soothed. “This is getting out of hand.”
“I DO NOT TASTE LIKE BUBBLE GUM!”
Zurra grabbed a fist full of cake.
“Don’t do it! Please!” Kalia yelled.
Zurra threw the cake at Ilrica, who jumped out of the way. Kalia was behind her, and she avoided it too.
There was a terrible splat, and they all cringed. Slowly, they turned around, and saw what they most feared.
Cha’Rolette was standing there, her face and shoulders covered in cake.
“Oh no,” Lyssandra said.
Cha’Rolette’s ringlets began writhing around like cobras. On... my... wedding... day?
She flicked her hands, shaking off the bits of frosting dripping down on her. Are you SERIOUS?!
The other girls backed away. “Oh, boy.”
You hit me with cake, ruin my ta’atu, ruin my dress, MY GRANDMOTHER’S DRESS, on my WEDDING DAY?
Zurra flinched. “Sorry.”
Cha’Rolette’s ta’atu became as bright as the noonday sun.
Trahzi’s arm rose up, as if it were a marionette on a string. “What’s going on?”
Zurra looked over. “What are you...?”
Trahzi’s arm plunged into Zurra’s cake and scooped out a handful. Without warning, she slapped it onto Zurra’s face.
“Ack!” Zurra gagged.
“You have taken control of my body,” Trahzi yelled angrily. “Release me!”
Cha’Rolette flicked her hand, and an invisible force swept Ilrica’s wobbly feet out from under her. She fell to the floor, her glowing claws accidentally slicing through the leg of the table. The overburdened table leaned to one side, and Lyssandra’s cake slid over on top of her.
Kalia grabbed Cha’Rolette by the shoulders. “Duchess, you have to calm down!”
Cha’Rolette snapped her gaze, and Kalia was thrown back, colliding with her own wedding cake and disappearing within.
Pulled by her own arm, Trahzi reached into the cake again, ruining her own dress up to the shoulder. Scooping out an arm full, she smeared it across Zurra’s chest and stomach.
“I’ll kill you!” Zurra screamed, leaping forward and tackling Cha’Rolette to the ground.
* * *
In the main hall, Gerald breathed a sigh of relief as the last of the wedding guests passed through his part of the line. He took a moment to breathe in the beauty and splendor of the hall. There was an ice crystal statue made up for each of the girls. They were works of artistic beauty, yet they paled to compare to the beauty of the ladies they represented.
“I’m a lucky guy,” Gerald sighed to himself.
“Hmmm,” the Emperor said, stroking his beard.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
“Well, I was just thinking, in a lot of ways this doesn’t add up.”
“What doesn’t?” Gerald asked.
“Well, here you are with six beautiful brides. I know I had a hand in that, but if you think about it, it doesn’t exactly make sense, given your bad luck, for things to have ended this way.”
Gerald opened his mouth to answer when the far wall exploded.
Guests scattered in all directions as Trahzi and Ilrica slammed into the ice fountain, shattering it to pieces. Bloated dignitaries screamed as the water rushed free, sweeping dozens of people along in its current.
Zurra blasted lighting at Kalia, who deflected it off her shield, striking the organ and reducing it into splinters. The organist was thrown backwards, smacking against the ceremonial crystal goblet. The contents of the goblet spilled over, drenching the startled High Priest from head to toe.
Cha’Rolette rose up out of the rubble, her ta’atu writing about like snakes, only to be tackled by Lyssandra. They landed on the dessert table, flipping it over and sending pastries and punch flying everywhere.
Terrified wedding guests ran for the exits. As the brides fought and squabbled, Gerald and the Emperor stood there, their faces in the palms of their hands.
Laser beams, psionic concussions, lighting, missiles, and gouts of flame shot up through the ceiling from the feuding, screaming brides. Just as part of the roof collapsed, Gerald looked up, his eyes wavering.
“Oh no,” he said.
“What is it?” The Emperor asked.
“I just realized something. Perhaps the reason why things ended up this way is because these girls... are supposed to be part of my punishment.”
Epilogue
Most people who idealize strength are ignorant of how it is acquired. Someone who is in constant agony does not notice a prick of the finger. Profound suffering sets a higher threshold, allowing one to bear with ease that which would have been burdensome before. If you wish to be strong, know first that this is the path of it.
-The Holy Scrolls of Soeck, Seventh Binding, Thirteenth Stanza
Gerald tried not to groan as he sat down against the marbled wall of the palace hall. His legs were hurting him again. Despite several surgeries, they had never healed properly. The exertion of the party preparations had inflamed the damaged nerves on his back and arms. He discreetly rubbed them so as not to draw attention from the others, but it was hard not to wince. Even after all this time, his skin still felt like it was on fire.
Gerald looked up to try and take his mind off the pain. Above him was the mural they had all painted together to commemorate their first wedding anniversary. It was a treasure to him. It was the only physical object his bad luck had never managed to destroy. Cha’Rolette liked to keep a running tally of the damages he had caused and tease him with it from time to time. Last time she brought it up it was somewhere in the high trillions. But as much as he cherished the mural, it was what it represented to him that he truly treasured.
Gerald looked out at his family. Cha’Rolette, with their twin daughters Mir’Abell and Cha’Roquette, teaching them how to setup a formal banquet table. When Cha’Roquette got the spoons mixed up, Cha’Rolette kissed her on the forhead and hugged her warmly, and praised her for the parts she had done properly.
Ilrica, with their son Ahlf and their daughters Lupa and Adolpha, were getting the fire pit going to roast an offering to Faelan, despite Cha’Rolette’s protests about lighting a fire indoors. When Lupa reached out timidly and touched the wood with a glowing claw, the timber burst into flame, startling her. The three of them all laughed deeply together, and finished off with a nice long howl just for fun.
Lyssandra, with their daughter Avorasa and their son Tunit, pulled out hand-made banners and streamers she had cut out and colored with them the night before, hanging them up proudly on the walls.
Kalia was there with their daughter Reina. Reina would inflate a balloon and toss it up into the air, and Kalia would expertly shoot its tab with a dart from her hip launcher, nailing it to the wall. Reina giggled and threw them up faster and faster, trying to outdo her mother’s pace, but Kalia kept up with her at every step.
Trahzi was there also, with their son Trahzii and their daughter Traazhi, assembling a little cushioned play area for Cadbury and her two daughters, who for some reason laid strawberry and vanilla flavored eggs, thought no one c
ould figure out exactly why. Trahzii snapped his fingers and a cupcake appeared in his hands from the dessert table. He gobbled it down, getting frosting all over himself. When Traazhi tried to copy her brother, the cupcake appeared over her head and splatted down into her hair. Trahzi laughed as she gently cleaned off her children with a napkin.
Even Zurra was there with their boy Suuni, pouring out pet food for Puppy Trahzi and her pups into clay dishes they had made and decorated themselves. When Sunni pointed out that his dish was far better than the one his mother had made, Zurra puffed out her cheeks and pouted, then they both laughed.
Gerald chuckled. Sunni had been a real surprise to everyone. Even the best scientists in the Alliance were baffled at how it was possible for a human and a Zurinite to have a child together. After all, Zurra didn’t have any ova, she didn’t have a womb, but there Sunni was, and they loved him all the same.
The decorations were as ecletic as they all were, but somehow it fit together into a cohesive whole. The air was filled with the laughter of children and the greeting of guests as they arrived to help them celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary together.
Gerald smiled warmly. The years had been kind to all of them. Human lifespans were so short compared to the other races, they barely looked any different to him from the day he had first met them. But in their eyes, he saw the wisdom and maturity of a life well-lived, and the beautiful smiles of esteem and contentment that come from parenthood.
Gerald looked quite a bit different at twenty-eight then he had ten years earlier. His shoulders had become even a little broader, if you can imagine that, and his chin was sharper and more chiseled. He alternated between growing out his full beard, which Ilrica adored, and staying clean shaven, which Cha’Rolette insisted upon. Currently he was in the scruffy process of growing it out again. Kalia thought it gave him a roguish charm. His kids all thought it was scratchy, and he delighted in kissing them with it as they tried to squirm away.
All around him, Gerald could feel the gentle consciousness of Nikki covering him like a blanket. She too was very excited as she watched the preparations from orbit. So far, he had managed to do it. He had lived with the power of Ragnarok for a decade without letting it corrupt him. At times he thought he might go mad from it, but his family had always been there to pull him back from the edge.
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