RSVP (mystery)

[igiko]

"What do you need me there for?"

"While a witness isn't strictly necessary . . . it'll ensure that that one stays in line."

What does that mean?

Lass has his suspicions when Rufus invites him to witness a contract signing. He's gotten better over the months, if not years, but even now it can be a little difficult to read between the apathetic lines where Rufus is concerned. One thing's for sure, though: Rufus wouldn't have extended this invitation if it wasn't something important, so Lass accepts in spite of his lingering puzzlement.

Consequently, he shows up severely underdressed.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your wedding?" he asks once the girls on Dorothy's side have meandered over to their seats.

"Didn't I tell you," says Rufus, who's completely overdressed next to him, "that you'd be in attendance as a witness?"

"I thought . . . "

What did he think? In retrospect, he should've questioned deeper into why Rufus wanted him at a contract signing when he's only half-Haros. What use do the Underworld's bounty hunters have for a half breed like him? Rufus has also made it clear many times by now that he'd rather not involve Lass—or anyone, really—in his business. He was blindsided, he realizes, by the uncharacteristic offer.

Rufus watches him with faintly arched eyebrows and narrowed eyes, probably wondering exactly what Lass must've thought to arrive at this gross misunderstanding when he did nothing but feed into it with his vague invitation. And who is "that one"?

"Never mind."

Rufus turns away, and in doing so shows off the flattering tailoring of the suit that cuts him a sharper figure than usual. (Lass wonders how much the outfit hurt him, financially and emotionally.) "The ceremony is due to begin shortly. Please take a seat."

Biting down on the retort that's started bubbling up to his tongue, Lass sits parallel to the girls who've accompanied Dorothy. Their numbers total four. He chances a glance at them through his periphery and finds that Charlotte's posture is impeccable as she sits poised and upright on the pew of the cathedral they've commandeered in the middle of nowhere (which dimension is this?); Ange seems as though she's paying attention to the oncoming proceedings when she's just looking at Charlotte; Chise's eyes are sharp, focused on her surroundings and the procession in equal measure, when they meet his for a split second; and Beatrice . . .

Beatrice, who won't stop squirming and chewing on her lip and snapping her head this and that way, is definitely "that one."

The soft hum of music heralds the start of the ceremony proper. Suddenly, Charlotte rises from her seat and enters the aisle, where she walks the path to the podium at the front of the cathedral, while Beatrice picks herself up to skitter down the back in the opposite direction. Ange looks ready to burst in her seat. Then Rufus walks himself down the aisle as if he were on the way to pick up payment, and Lass feels eyes on his person when Rufus stops at the altar with no one behind him.

As far as Lass is concerned, it's a miracle enough that he's here. A request to stand in as best man would've felt like a joke, and he's never found Rufus to be especially funny.

"There's no need. It's time to blow out the candles."

Maybe Rufus knew that from the start.

It's when Beatrice starts down the aisle, leaving a trail of flower petals in her wake, and Dorothy sweeps into view that things start to feel like an actual wedding—enough so that Lass feels ridiculously out of place. She's pretty, he gives her that. But Dorothy must be a hell of a lot more than her looks if she's managed to capture Rufus' heart, of all things, when it still remains something of a mystery even to him.

The ceremony, abridged as it already is, ends as quickly as it started, and is all the better for it. Lass isn't sure that he cares for any more of Beatrice's quizzical glances from the front, to say nothing of the strange tension wafting over from Ange and Chise's side.

At least Dorothy looks pleased. And so does Rufus, judging by the glint in his eyes when she says something to him in a teasing tone once they've parted.

While Charlotte and Beatrice, dogged by Ange farther down the aisle, congratulate the newlyweds on their nuptials up front, Lass glances aside to meet Chise's knowing gaze at his side. She's remarkably stealthy. He only has his training in the art of assassination to thank for detecting her presence before she made herself known when she says, "Your eyes are sharp."

"It's harder to move in the shadows when there aren't any," replies Lass. That she can move so well in spite of that speaks for her agility. "What is it?"

Chise faces front, where Charlotte is chatting Dorothy up and flustering Ange at once while Rufus is staring at a fussy Beatrice. "What did you make of the ceremony?"

"The ceremony?" Lass takes a moment to consider. "It was short."

"Yes. Dorothy herself stressed that it would be safest to be as concise as possible."

The tension wasn't imagined. Dorothy and her crew are keeping themselves away from something, and Rufus has guarded their secret well. Given Chise's apparent skillset, it's got something to do with the dark side of society. And seeing as he's not above the law in the slightest, Lass simply closes his eyes and says, "It's your business. I won't ask."

Chise nods, putting that topic away with the simple gesture, before giving a small smile in what appears to be approval. "It is good that the ceremony concluded without the need for a second."

"A second?"

"Is that not why you sat where you did? I had thought that the position of best man would place you in the most ideal location, but Beatrice impressed that the two roles are incongruent. Still, it is commendable that you chose to honor Dorothy foremost."

"Wait. What role are you talking about?"

"The role of second, of course." Chise's smile presses into a thin line. "Am I mistaken in thinking that you brought your sword to avenge Dorothy's honor in the event your brother were to sully it?"

Brother? Dorothy's honor? "What?"

Chise hums. "Perhaps I am."

"Wait . . . you didn't . . . " The look Chise gives him stops Lass in his tracks. She's dead serious. She really thought he was going to lop Rufus' head off if he dared to turn Dorothy away at the altar. (He can't say that he wouldn't have been livid if that had happened, but he's fairly certain that Rufus is housing several guns on his person even now.) He grimaces. "That's not why I'm here."

"Then why?" asks Chise, simply. Well, who can blame her for wondering why he was here and not up there?

All the same, Rufus' side wasn't the only empty one. "I could ask you the same thing."

Chise hums, then nods again, but this time in understanding. "I see. It seems we've all made errors on this day."

Errors. Right.

Fortunately, Beatrice chooses that moment to (very loudly) bemoan their absence. Chise and Lass turn in unison toward the wedding party, and Lass is mildly surprised to find that Rufus is looking straight at him and not ignoring him in favor of his pretty wife, who's also smiling in their direction. Shellshocked as he is, Chise beats him to the punch in advancing to the front of the cathedral, and Lass joins her a step later.

Well, he supposes, even if the ceremony went off without a hitch, there's still the reception . . .