[center][h3]Scyrvensrel Talyrrth-Gunnvaldr[/h3]
[sub]Wife of Gwillim [@tracyarmav] and Hestia [@eclecticwitch][/sub][/center]

Scyrven had not meant to fall asleep so readily, but she supposed it was to be expected after the fights and overall .... excitement of the Choosing. As the bride settled, the cool cloth easing her fever, she herself eased into slumber.

She woke up upon the bride slamming out the door, the sound waking her, though outwardly she gave no appearance that she’d woken, keeping her breath even and eyes lightly shut. After only a few moments, the door eased open again, Alfhi’s voice and the bride’s as well. There was a splashing sound, a quiet gasp, and then quiet laughter. 

Scyrven sat up in bed, a wry grin on her face. “Alfhi, dear. You know the water goes [i]in[/i] the glass, not on poor Hestia’s head.” 

She turned then to Hestia, the mirth fading from her eyes. “Our husband has gone... hunting. It is better not to know what, exactly, is his prey.” Her grin was pasted back onto her face and she unfolded from the oversized bed, stretching her arms up over her head and letting out a loud yawn.

“Alfhildr, you should be returning to bed soon, my dear. The morrow dawns early. Hestia, would you prefer to stay in your own bed or come in up here? I worry for your comfort down on that small mattress, pretty one. And I assure you, this bed is entirely big enough for all three of us, should it come to that.”

[hr][hr]

[center][h3]Aymiria Unalim[/h3]
[sub]Bride of Zakroti [@darkwolf687], sister-bride of Aurora [@weepingliberty][/sub][/center]

As Aurora’s words crashed over her, Miry found she couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. 

Shattered. She hadn’t heard that word in years. And even when she’d last heard it, it had been in whispers. In the Gemmenite court, whispered as the barest rumor of a gem who had, despite everything, fallen in love with her captor. It was the worst insult one could hurl at someone. And NEVER spoken to one’s face.

It was true, of course - she loved Zakroti, loved him with all her heart - but .... it was not her fault her husband was so much more wonderful than his other people. Had his horns been sawn off and he been born on the other side of the Spine, he would’ve fit in. Any gem would have fallen for him.

Surely - yes, it was a terrible situation, but she convinced herself she could not be blamed for the gods having given her this chance. She did not deserve that label.

Her eyes drifted shut and she turned from Aurora, wrapping her arms around Zak’s waist and pressing her face into his side, letting the heat of his rage warm her and melt the fine layer of rime ice that had formed on every inch of her skin. 

Aurora wouldn’t require the input of a shattered Gem, would she? Even one who shared more experiences than the feisty Gem could know. Well. Miry would simply refuse to acknowledge the other girl’s existence, either until Ro begged it or until Zak ordered her otherwise. 

She barely noticed the commotion in the background, letting herself be held against Zak’s side and swept under his cloak as they turned to leave, the guards falling in step around them.

Shattered, eh?

Better to be alive and of whole body and spirit and “Shattered” than to die in agony, than to die of broken bones and internal bleeding and desperate suicide in a shattered mind.

This was just how things were done between their kingdoms. There was no sense in fighting it. If one happened to have good fortune in this arrangement it could not be held against them.

But however much she reassured herself, she couldn’t rid herself of the foul taste left in her mouth. 

Shattered.