Renfield Turnbull was accompanied on two sides, and to others it might have seemed as if he held the pair at either arm together with the force of his beaming alone. And, of course, there was the semi-scowling man ahead of them with the basket of flower petals. Perhaps Renfield should have made it more clear that he had been joking.
And then there was the other semi-scowling man beyond even him, dressed in an overcoat and a green scarf. But at least his scowl melted away when he saw Renfield.
A set of looks were exchanged; probably down to the flower 'girl', and the wonderful urge to laugh in joy, silliness, and heart-aching disbelief. Renfield visibly straightened - impossibly further than he had been - the closer he came to Ray, and to Harold Lowe, too.
He smiled for both men on his arms. He was being given away.
Mike walked him so far as to the last five feet, then leaned up on his toes to kiss Renfield on the cheek and let go, moving off and raising his eyebrows at Robert, a look something between amusement and... well, no. It was all amusement. Robert rolled his eyes in return, tossed the basket somewhere under the seats, and broke off from the procession to go with him.
Ray had gone from scowling to grinning, even with his shoes covered in snow.
Harold was smiling proudly, and Scotty did the same at Renfield's arm; he felt the Hausenfelters, Mister Lowe, Audrey and Sokka and Holly and Artemis, but the world seemed to shrink.
Renfield let Scotty go with a kiss, and took his Ray's hand, not without tremble.
Harold Lowe took a moment to allow them to settle, then spoke, "Family and friends. We gather here today in witness to the marriage of Renfield Jacob Turnbull and Raymond Anthony Vecchio; should anyone have cause to dispute this union, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Ray looked around with his eyebrows up. Then, satisfied that no one was speaking up, he went back to grinning at Ren. Admittedly, his hands were a little shaky, too.
Renfield had looked around with mock suspicion, before squeezing Ray's hand. He dragged his look back to Lowe, waiting for what came next. Ready to fling himself heart-first into it.
Lowe smiled, and while he held a book, he didn't open it to read. Instead, he spoke directly to them. "Renfield and Ray. I would say that you are embarking on a journey of commitment; one of faith and deeper union, but I believe we all know that to be, as they say, closing the barn door after the horses have already bolted."
He grinned there, then continued, more warmly, "What occurs here today is not the creation of a marriage. In all ways that truly matter, you have already done that. Instead, we are here to celebrate that which is already known; that the tapestries of your lives are already woven together; that they have been strengthened, brightened, emboldened by what has taken place, and made ready and inseparable for what will take place in the future.
"We have only to seal it to record, and to celebrate it together, aloud."
Renfield stepped closer to Ray, as Lowe spoke. It was wise; it was perfect, and Renfield looked impossibly prouder for each sentence. He met Ray's eyes again. He saw the warmth reflected back, and perhaps a touch of gentle amusement, and that was perfect, too.
"Do you, Renfield, take this man to be your husband; to have and hold, to love, honor and cherish, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, in wealth or in poverty, from this day forward?"
He had never been more ready to say anything in his life. His hand tightened; so, it seemed, did his heart.
"Yes. I do."
"Do you, Ray, take this man to be your husband; to have and hold, to love, honor and cherish, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, in wealth or in poverty, from this day forward?"
Ray's eyes were suspiciously shiny, but he still managed to pretend to think about it for all of three seconds, before he broke into a wide smile. "Yeah. I do."
Renfield chewed down a soft laugh, tugging Ray's hand, looking for all the world like he could tickle the man for that. He refrained. But only just.
He couldn't contain the bounce on his toes when he looked back to Lowe.
Lowe looked between them. "Do you have your rings?"
Those were in trust with each Lee. Renfield watched Ray reach back to Harold, not even having to look to know the ring would appear. Renfield turned his own smile upon Scotty, looking for vines made of gold.
Once Scotty handed it over, Lowe nodded. "Renfield, if you would place the ring on Ray's finger and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed."
His hand was steadier than should've been possible, when he lined the ring up to Ray's fingertip and slipped it on. He almost forgot to repeat the words. Almost.
"With this ring, I thee wed."
Ray looked down at the ring, then looked back up and bit on his bottom lip, probably to keep it from trembling.
"Ray, if you would place the ring on Renfield's finger and repeat after me: With this ring, I thee wed."
Ray nearly dropped it, and his fingers trembled when he did manage to get the ring on. It took one false start, and his voice was quivery and tight, but he looked up and said, "With this ring, I thee wed."
It was then Renfield felt the tears well up. He held fast, swallowing and meeting Ray's eyes without letting his own spill over with tears. Just a little more, now.
Lowe smiled again, looking between them. "May your journey never find you parted; may your lives remain so tightly woven; may you know all of the greatest joys, and have all of the strength you need to face whatever sorrows. May you always know peace, faith and love." A beat. "By virtue of the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you married."
Ray apparently didn't need to be told it was time to kiss; he just threw his arms around Ren and did it.
Renfield's tears fell, and he kissed back, wrapping his husband so tightly to him that they would both lose breath.
There was hallowed silence.
Until Harold Lee fired off a celebratory whistle.
((Cowritten between three muns, again!))
