Gettin Hitched

 Episode Name:  Gettin Hitched

   Written By:  Raijin

         Cast:  Avok, Capt. Dawson, Claness, Cristobal, Darax, Glemm, Golden, 

                Havaris, Haven, Idrani, Jiasha, Lux, Medes, Nevaren, Nilee, 

                O'Rielly, Park, Poole, Takamura, Turtledove, Tyler and Vor'mak.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Raijin

     Aired On:  Fri Mar 21 01:12:14 2003

     Stardate:  53082.9

Time: Thu Mar 20 23:26:14 2003

Stardate: 53082.7

Medes comes into the garden through the hedge.

Medes has arrived.

Tyler makes her way in through the crowd and seeks out familiar, safe faces. She's wearing a smile, but it's more show than true enthusiasm. She spots Turtledove and makes her way towards her.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Nice looking wedding. Why do I get the feeling that mine will be absolutely nothing like this?"

Capt. Dawson presses a button on his PADD and an old piece of music from the 20th century hums from above. Those familiar with the song would recognize it as Van Morrison's, "River of Time." The captain waits patiently.

Poole comes into the garden through the hedge.

Poole has arrived.

Vor'mak comes into the garden through the hedge.

Vor'mak has arrived.

As soon as he sees the signals begin to show that the ceremony is about to begin, Nilee quickly finds a seat as close to the front as he can muster. Sitting down somwhere in the middle of a row of seats, still remaining utterly silent as he watches the beginnings of the wedding.

Turtledove's eyes light up as she notes Tyler's approach. She gives the young officer a welcoming grin, and makes space for her.

Havaris accepts Takamura's hand with a bright smile. "Wouldn't miss it for much of anything! Oh, I've /seen/ Gwen's dress! It's /beautiful/! Breathtaking!" And then he notes to Jiasha, "My wife wouldn't let me /see/ hers."

Lux winces a bit as the music begins before his ears acclimate to music played at deaf people volume.

Medes appears at the break in the hedges, standing alone for a moment there, her hands folded into the belled sleeves of her dress. As the music starts, she begins to slowly walk forward, trying to look appropriately solemn and not trip over her heels or the skirt of this... /dress./

Golden noting that Takamura and Stewart are part of the Havaris family grouping, and Tera has just been joined by Wendy, he smiles with a shrug to himself and finds a place near the back to stand.

"Well I'll be damned," Cristobal murmurs to himself. What exactly he is damning himself for is not apparent.

The gardens have been somewhat alterend. Two pillar-like arrangements of stalks of tall, full-bloom flowers in a pale, milky lavender grace either side of a carved altar, not unlike teek wood. Before it, frunningto the door where Medes, and Poole enter, is a deep, rich and thick lavender runner carpet.

Nevaren just stands in his proper spot near the Captain, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow and adjusting the collar of his uniform. He looks nervous... which is probably just right.

Trembling, strangely trembling, Poole passes through the hedge with Vor'mak like a good daddy on her arm... except for the HORNED KLINGON ARMOR he wears. And then suddenly it's as if she's on the bridge and she straightens, wears that smile that she has and walks slowly, step by step, behind Medes. Any and all nervousness there was passes over her like water.

Admiral Regal eyes the Bride, studying her for a moment, then looks at Nevaren and chuckles. "You're in trouble, son." he tells Nevaren quietly.

Most would agree that Gwendolyn Poole's facial features are beautiful. Some might say she's merely cute. Either way, tonight, she's in rare form, the delicate nature of her features lending itself to comparisons to Terran legends of fae nobility. Honey-golden blonde hair, usually worn loose and cut short, tonight has been pulled back in gentle waves, a tendril or two escaping to frame her sidhe-like features. A small nose with an extremely light scattering of freckles sits between emotionally charged brown eyes, highlighted subtly with the smallest bits of eyeshadow. Gwen has an aura about her, a powerful presence that sometimes makes her seem larger than life; in reality her height barely tops five feet. A perfect and quite contagious smile, accented tonight with a sheen of understated lip gloss, lends even more to the impression of vitality she creates around herself. Her face and shoulders bear the lightest dusting of glitter, highlighting the ephemeral beauty of her features and dress.
The cream silk wedding dress -- a masterful creation -- has a sort of kimono-inspired bodice which accents the smooth musculature of her shoulders, subtle but present, not to mention the rest of her well-maintained frame's curves. A thick, stiff band of white silk just below Poole's breasts forms the majority of the bodice's construction; a folded criss-cross dropped somewhat from her shoulders, open and very stylish this year, accents her slender throat and perfectly frames her necklace. The last, a blue star-cut topaz, lays captured on its silver chain and catches the light, throwing it back out in blue highlights rather much the same way as Gwen herself seems to catch the light around her and create her impressive personal aura.
Her skirt follows the kimono's simplicity in front, but the back is voluminous, with yard upon yard of silk. As Poole moves away, there unfolds a bit of a train, embroidered with ivory ribbon in the image of winter branches with tiny, pale yellow 'berry seeds'. All of the decorations are extremely classy tone-on-tone work. Gracefully belled sleeves drape down to the middle of her hand, the backs of the sleeves cut just so as to best accentuate the ring on her left ring-finger: silver, it's topped with three pear-cut diamonds, and to the experienced eye is clearly an antique. To sum up: Beautiful. Fae-like. Fabulously attired by a master tailor. Glowing with joy. Larger than life: Gwendolyn Anne Poole.

Medes

She's an unusual sight for a Terran: her head's shaved down to stubble. Dark eyelashes and eyebrows indicate that her hair color, should it be allowed to grow in, is approximately the color of bog mud. Medes doesn't look half-bad with a shaved head, if shaved heads aren't in and of themselves objectionable to the viewer. There's a sort of stripped-down, scruffy machinist look to it that's rather true to the woman herself. Though her small frame and minimal bust make her appear to be, at first glance, significantly younger than her nearly thirty years, there's something pleasing, even striking -- at least to the Terran eye -- about the proportions of her skull and face. The simple silver Bajoran earpiece on her right ear serves only to accent this look further, as does the minimal amount of makeup on her face: a light dusting of eyeshadow highlights her dark brown eyes, and she wears a thin sheen of lip gloss on her lips as well. On her left ring finger, a heavy, men's-style wedding ring rests, comprised of a rope-like design flanked on either edge by plain gold. Her diminutive body is not frail, but rather corded with muscle. She's built like one of her runabouts: compact and efficient, with little wasted or extra.

A dress. Yes. Thea's in a /dress./ And what a dress it is. The younger sister of Poole's more elaborate wedding dress, hers is cut in more simple versions of the lines that define the bride's. It begins with an oversized cream silk hood, pulled up over her head and falling away very loosely to the sides; it rests loosely over her exposed, wirily-muscled shoulders and attaches to the back and sides of the off-the-shoulder neckline. The glint of her Bajoran earring stands out from beneath the hood, and the lining of the hood itself -- a pale, violet-toned blue -- evokes spring and beginnings rather well indeed. The off-the-shoulder nature of the dress can't help but reveal part of a polaron splash-scar on her left shoulder. Just beneath the neckline, a wide, kimono-sash bodice made of the same cream silk as the hood wraps around her chest; long, gracefully belled sleeves cover her arms down to the middle of each hand, and a likewise gracefully sweeping skirt smooths out from beneath the bodice to brush against the floor. The effect, overall, is that of a hardy mystic or tiny, rough-cut and neatly-draped holy woman from some sort of exotic sect, achieved by the superior talent of the dress's creator.

Nevaren is a walking contradiction. A human-romulan crossbreed (his romulan side only recently publicized, so most people would beleive he is of Vulcan descent instead since before now there were no acknowledged romulans in starfleet, even half ones.), he is a tall and extremely broad young man, ruggedly good looking. But thats where any similarities to either race ends. A freak mutation, Nevaren is an Albino and his skin and hair are both pale white. His eyes are an extremely pale green, due to the copper base of his blood, and seem to almost glow. HIs pointed ears stand out only slightly from his bowl cut and, unlike vulcans or romulans, he has a well kept goatee around his mouth. He isn't ugly by any means, his mutation giving him an exotic quality. You notice that his calloused hands and pale face are crisscrossed with faint lines of an even paler white, as compared to his skin. Scars caused by some unspeakable horror of his youth. The scars get more noticable as they travel beneath his clothing.

He is wearing a tailored white jacket and black trousers. Two dark grey panels join together in the center, forming a seam and creating the impression of a layered design. A thin line of gold trim follows the section of white on either side, down the length of the chest, ending at the sharply angular cut at the base. Affixed to the lower right portion of the collar, which is trimmed in gold, is a single circular gold pip and a single gold rimmed black pip. The shoulders of the jacket are padded with a ribbed material and a single gold stripe encircles each cuff. A stylized silver chevron on a matte gold rectangle is attached to the upper left side of the jacket, just below the shoulderpadding. The legs of the trousers are fitted snugly over a pair of polished black halfboots via stirrups.

You see before you a thin, well dressed Ferengi. He is tall for his species, standing at a good 5'8 or '9. This effect is intensified by his scarecrowlike frame. His skin is the color of a pumpkin, he has a mouth full of teeth well filed to razorlike points and the bald, bulbous head so common among his kind. If you are prone to noticing this sort of thing, this Ferengi has very well formed lobes. He presents as animated and pleasant albiet with that certain barracuda-like quality that just seems to go with being a Ferengi. His bright, deep-set yellow eyes generally dart about his surroundings taking in information and giving the distinct impression that this little orange man misses very little.

You see before you a thin, well dressed Ferengi. He is tall for his species, standing at a good 5'8 or '9. This effect is intensified by his scarecrowlike frame. His skin is the color of a pumpkin, he has a mouth full of teeth well filed to razorlike points and the bald, bulbous head so common among his kind. If you are prone to noticing this sort of thing, this Ferengi has very well formed lobes. He presents as animated and pleasant albiet with that certain barracuda-like quality that just seems to go with being a Ferengi. His bright, deep-set yellow eyes generally dart about his surroundings taking in information and giving the distinct impression that this little orange man misses very little.
There are small planets who's gross planetary incomes could very likely not pay for this tuxedo. He wears a soft gray satin shirt under an ensemble of fine black Bolian silk. The top button is clasped with a single latinum set Andorian ice sapphire in lieu of a tie. His silk jacket is cut short in the front yet the tails fall almost to mid calf. Over his shirt he wears a shiny vest lined with holographic fibers that change color as he moves. On the back of his bulbous skull he wears a fitted headpiece of several shades of blue which accentuate the sapphire at his throat.

Vor'mak is a Klingon of imposing visage. His eyes stare out coldly and look over the surrounding area. Vor'mak's dark face bares a relatively short beard by Klingon standards that is kept well trimmed and his long hair is kept tied back in a simple style, more utilitarian than fashionable. He is wearing a red and black uniform made out of heavy leather with gold cuffs at the ends of the sleeves. A metal breastplate is visible beneath the leather, making him seem even larger than he probably is. In Vor'mak's belt is a ceremonial dagger, the Dk'Tagh. Vor'mak's spine is protected by a series of metal plates, giving him the appearance of an exoskeleton. Sturdy black leather boots complete the ensemble. He is wearing a red and black uniform made out of heavy leather with gold cuffs at the ends of the sleeves. A metal breastplate is visible beneath the leather, making him seem even larger than he probably is. In Vor'mak's belt is a ceremonial dagger, the Dk'Tagh. Vor'mak's spine is protected by a series of metal plates, giving him the appearance of an exoskeleton. Sturdy black leather boots complete the ensemble.

Admiral Henry Regal, Nevaren's adopted Father, stands tall and proud. His face is weathered and lined, hinting at years of service in the fleet and not all of it easy. His hair is thick and wavy, a dirty blonde mixed with grey. He wears the Dress Uniform of a Starfleet Admiral, almost the same as a regular officers but with a few more ruffles and pips and medals.

Avok stands in the midst of the crowd, watching the goings-on with a bemused interest. He adjusts his House emblem on his lapel and clasps his hands behind him, stretching the material of his tuxedo across his barrel chest. He offers up a brotherly smile as Poole enters in all her splendor... he /knew/ she'd outdo him.

Turtledove's grin flags slightly as she gets a close-up view of Tyler, for some reason, but before she can say anything her attention is drawn to the hedge-way... and like many others, no doubt, she is rendered briefly speechless.

Cristobal watches as Poole enters, the large Klingon standing in as father of the bride elicits a raised brow from him.

Nevaren follows his father's gaze, wondering what he meant, when he spots Gwen at the end of the runway. His eyes widen to the size of saucers and he swallows hard. It's possible he is even more white then usual. In fact, he's about the same colour as his uniform. He wipes his hands on his pants, both smoothing the fabric and drying his palms.

And on the bride's side of the guests are the three Poole siblings, looking remarkably alike. All are wearing their dress uniforms and have medals. Alec is the oldest, tallest and ... most British and reserved... and the most medals, with a Lt. Cmdr's pip on his collar. The younger two look barely out of the Academy, one wears operation's gold (Chere) and the other Johnathon wears Medical blue. They look especially like Poole, though with darker hair and the same smiles. Poole invasion.

Tyler smiles at the sight of Poole. This time, though, the smile is more genuine in feeling but with a sadness in her eyes. She shifts slightly and tugs at the edges of her waiter's jacket. She swallows and looks down at her hands.

Glemm stands with a slight smile at the bride as she walks down the isle, most likely the last view he'll get of her during the ceremony. Short Tellarites were not meant for large gatherings of tall people.

Darax just stands quietly off to the side and watches the group of women enter. Smile broadening a little, he looks down to his side for a moment and then over to the groom and his men.

Takamura stands next to Jiasha slipping his hand towards hers. He winks at her, then watches the beautiful bride process to the altar.

Poole 's gaze sweeps from side to side, smiling. She loves these people here, all in one form or another... and it does her a lot of good to see them all. This takes up her time as she walks forward, gently squeezing Vor'mak's arm through the armor... until her gaze sweeps up and meets Nevaren's. Nothing can stop her now, not even tripping over and... Ha, got ya. She walks easily forward, unstoppable as she closes the distance to Nevaren.

Vor'mak eyes the many people within the garden as he walks down the aisle with Poole on his arm. Accustomed to such formal settings, he maintains a stoic expression and rigid posture suitable for the Empire's finest. For a brief moment he breaks protocol by giving Poole a sideways glance and a small smile. Quickly afterwards the stone-face comes back on.

Lux adjusts his headpiece, a Ferengi fashion accessory that he usually avoids. He then reaches into his vest pocket and produces a small two-ring sizes box and holds onto it.

Park comes into the garden through the hedge.

Park has arrived.

. o O Medes thinks "Oh Prophets. They're all looking at me. They're all. Looking. At. M... waitaminute. They look at me every day. And. This isn't a dress. No! It's... it's an elaborate device which has plasma conduits running through it and... and fiberoptic displays, yes! It's essential! It's an ESSENTIAL ENGINEERING THING. Yes. ESSENTIAL. ENGINEERING. THING."

Well, that's good, 'cause that makes /one/ of the bridal party that isn't nervous. At least. For a moment. And then all of a sudden, a thought seems to occur to Medes, and she bears up. Familial pride, or some such thing, causes her to tilt her chin up slightly and proceed down the aisle with all the attendant and necessary grace. Makeup and heels and all. It's like a 'I can /so/ do this, so there' expression, except... more dignified.

Havaris turns to observe the procession with a wink up at Takamura, folding his hands at his back to catch his first glimpse of ... hey. He blinks several times and shakes out his head to clear his eyes. And then blinks some more before his jaw slowly slackens. It stays that way. Slack. More or less the whole time. Save, of course, when he's closed it to swallow the dry knot in his throat. Oh, dear.

Turtledove's eyes move from Poole and Medes, drawn to the fidgeting hands of Tyler. Turtledove whispers to Tyler, "What's... are you alright, Wendy?"

Nevaren straightens as Gwen gets closer, taking a very deep breath. Ahhhh, the flowery scent is helping here.. He thinks. He tugs at his uniform a final time, in the time honoured tradition of a starfleet officer ready to go into battle, and smiles at his bride to be.

Lux offers Nev a reassuring smile.

Park moves quietly into the room, straightening his uniform and moves to sit next to Tyler, attempting to draw as little attention as possible to his late arrival.

Park whispers to Tyler, "Sorry I'm late."

Haven comes into the garden through the hedge.

Haven has arrived.

Park sits down on Bench 1.

Tyler sits down on Bench 3.

Park stands and leaves Bench 1.

Park sits down on Bench 3.

Turtledove sits down on Bench 3.

Vor'mak and Poole make the final approach and come beside Nevaren. The large Klingon eyes both Nevaren and Poole briefly before standing aside in the same relative position from Poole that Lux stands in from Nevaren. His attention goes to the captain.

Takamura whispers to Havaris, " "Yes, that is your wife."

Havaris whispers to Takamura, "Yes. Yes it is. And might I say? That's my wife in a /dress/?"

Capt. Dawson smiles as he watches Poole come down the aisle towards him and her husband-to-be. He shoots her a quick wink as he holds his PADD in a ready position.

Golden wears a wistful expression, mostly happy, a small part sad. He watches the couples -- couples past, couples present, couples that seem likely for the future -- and he silently curses the Klingons for attacking the Nausicaans and thus keeping his potential significant other from attending.

Takamura nods to Havaris, grinning, but still watching the happy couple at the front of the room.

Medes finishes her walk up the aisle before the bride and her escort, and moves to stand off to the side, quietly taking a moment to arrange Poole's train behind her once the bride comes to a stop. That done, her only job is to stand here and be a very nice accessory in a beautiful Havaris Jiasha creation of a dress. That? That she can handle.

Poole bites her lip with her eyes on Nevaren. She steps closer then and offers her hand, and says, so softly, "Hey there handsome..." Then her gaze moves to Capt. Dawson, her Captain on the Venture... her mentor, Kenobi. Different from Vor'mak, her Yoda.

Lux stands loyally next to Nevaren like a short, fabulously wealthy Chewbacca.

Capt. Dawson looks at both Nevaren and Poole with a smile before intoning, "We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, to give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, and to add our best wishes to the words which shall unite Nevaren and Gwendolyn Poole in marriage. Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace." He waits expectantly and looks over the congregation.

Nevaren looks out at the crowd of his friends, smiling... And in a way threatening.. That if anyone speaks up it will be a very short trip to the airlock.

Vor'mak raises a brow at Captain Dawson's declaration and half turns to eye the gathering of people. His right hand inches down ever so slowly and wraps itself around the hilt of his dk'tagh.

Darax straightens up a little as the actual ceremony begins, eyes watching the ceremony in front of him with some interest.

Medes might have a wrench hidden in her sleeve. Nobody can know. They're big. Her hands are totally hidden inside of them. 'Course, she's not a Klingon, but she might have a wrench hidden in there, from the mildly suspicious look she casts out. It's part of being a decorative accessory. You have to give the 'nobody dare' look at this point.

Glemm rubs at his eyes as he tries to gaze up at the happy couple. There must be smoke in the gardens somewhere.

Poole , herself, looks over her shoulder, expression patient. It /would/ be her luck for someone to show up now.

Park looks around the assembly, waiting to see if he gets to remove someone from duty for being crazy enough to speak up.

Capt. Dawson looks back to the couple before him. "Nevaren and Gwendolyn Poole, I would ask that you both remember to treat yourself and each other with respect, and remind yourself often of what brought you together today. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness and kindness that your marriage deserves. When frustration and difficulty assail your marriage - as they do to every relationship at one time or another - focus on what still seems right between you, not only the part that seems wrong. This way, when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your lives and you lose sight of it for a moment, you can remember that the sun is still there. And if each of you will take responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and delight."

Nevaren looks back Towards Dawson, then at Poole.. smiling and nodding in agreement at that.

Haven slips through the hedges and into the garden. There is a smile on her lips and a child resting on a hip. Both watch quietly.

Poole squeezes Nevaren's hand, eyes forward on Dawson... and then to her almost-husband, smile on her face as she nods in agreement as well.

Capt. Dawson looks to the groom. "Nevaren, son of Adrian Weiss and Naya, do you take Gwendolyn Poole to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her forevermore?

Nevaren grins, nodding, and straightens his bearing. "Aye. Yes I do." he says with utter conviction. His voice solid and unwavering.

Capt. Dawson nods with approval and shifts his gaze to the bride. "Gwendolyn Poole, do you take Nevaren, son of Adrian Weiss and Naya, to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only unto him forevermore?"

Havaris briefly explodes into a joyous little moment, complete with a small hop into the air and a brief and quiet clap of the hands. Whee! He lands with a beaming smile, looking up at Takamura with wide eyes. And then it's back to the observation, despite his momentary distraction with elation. Yay!

Medes glances out of the corner of her eye, still facing toward the happy couple, as is her responsibility as a bridal party bookend. She seeks out and finds... ah. There he is. Having ascertained where Havaris is -- and how can she miss him, with that? -- she looks forward, rolling her lips in and biting their insides to keep from laughing.

. o O Medes thinks "Prophets, he's cute."

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Havaris, giving him quick a 'not yet' look.

Jiasha bites her lip, grinning through it. She stands and watches the procession. By this point, Nua is holding hands with Eisak. Imitating the wedding in silence. Well. That and swinging hands liberally.

Lux slips another look in Jiasha's direction then turns his gaze back to the happy couple.

Takamura looks down at the bouncing Tigger that is Havaris, chuckling quietly to himself. He then winks at his friend and returns his attention to the bride and groom. While squeezing Jiasha's hand, Hiroshi offers her a sideways glance and smile.

"I have... and I do," Poole replies lyrically, though not on purpose, probably. It's probably the most honestly truthful words she's spoken in her life. The one's she's most sure of.

Capt. Dawson smiles warmly at Poole then looks to Lux. "Would the best man present the rings?"

Admiral Regal takes a step back to give the Ferengi some room to do you task. He smiles, fatherly, at the couple, a proud look in his eye.

Golden smiles wryly, to himself, at Nev's conviction. And then at Kusto's reaction to the conviction. At Poole's words his smile shifts from wry to pleased. He idly twists the academy ring on his right ringer finger with his thumb, watching the present but also far away with his thoughts.

O'Rielly comes into the garden through the hedge.

O'Rielly has arrived.

Lux pops open the small two ring box and holds it between the couple. He seems to have practiced and practiced disciplining himself to just let people /take/ jewelry from him.

Avok lets his small smile break into a full fledged one, freshly sharpened teeth pointing out from behind drawn lips. He's one happy Klingon, alright.

Nevaren carefully reaches down and takes the smaller of the two rings between thumb and forefinger. Carefully because, no matter how much he trusts the ferengi he doesn't want his friends instinct to take over and slam the small box on his pale digits. It's just wouldn't be prudent to be sucking on your own broken finger at your wedding.

Havaris bounces lightly on the balls of his feet, rolling up and down an inch or two as he bobs with barely contained celebration. Soon. Soon he can applaud wildly and shout and celebrate and so forth. Soon. For now he's forced to bite his lip and fold his arms tightly across his stomach and watch. Also, bounce a bit.

Darax cocks his head to the side when Havaris does his little hop dance of joy and smiles to himself.

Tyler swallows and watches the ceremony almost vacantly.

Poole takes the larger ring from the box Lux offers, smiling as she turns to Nevaren, face still towards Captain Dawson for direction.

Lux maintains truly admirable composure though he is what he is and his beady yellow eyes never actually leave either ring.

Glemm pulls a small hankerchief from inside his uniform and dabs at his watery eyes and snout.

Capt. Dawson looks to Nevaren and states, "While placing the ring on her finger, look to your bride and repeat after me. I, Nevaren, son of Adrian Weiss and Naya, take thee, Gwendolyn Poole..."

Poole settles her gaze on Nevaren and waits. ... presumably for him to ring her and not run down the aisle screaming.

There are some very, uhm. Engineery... Particles. In the air, here in the Garden. Yes. Engineery... oh, forget it. She's in a dress, and heels, and wearing makeup, for chrissakes. Medes ain't fooling anyone. She's tearing up, okay? And dabbing at her eyes with the hem of one sleeve while attempting to pretend that she's not tearing up at all.

Nevaren's hand, shakily, reaches out and takes Gwens. He wills his hand still and gently cradels her's in his palm, ring fingerheld apart from the rest. With careful precision, he lowers the smaller ring and slides it over her finger. "I.. Son of Adrian Weiss and Naya.. take thee, Gwendolyn Poole..." he repeats, softly.

Capt. Dawson says, "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health..."

Nevaren smiles a bit more, his voice once again confident.. "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health..."

Capt. Dawson says, "In joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you."

Nevaren says, "In joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you."

Capt. Dawson smiles faintly and clears his throat while quickly wiping some dust from his eyes. Yes. Dust. Turning to Poole, his smile grows as he states, "While placing the ring on his finger, look to your groom and repeat after me. I, Gwendolyn Poole, take thee, Nevaren, son of Adrian Weiss and Naya..."

Poole takes the ring and slips it slowly onto Nevaren's ring finger. Those brown eyes of hers are centered on Nevaren's green ones as she speaks softly, "I, Gwendolyn Poole, take thee, Nevaren, son of Adrian Weiss and Naya..."

Capt. Dawson says, "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health..."

Poole says, "To have and to hold, in sickness and in health...."

Capt. Dawson says, "In joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you."

Poole says, "In joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you."

Capt. Dawson smiles at the couple and says, "As the two of you come into this marriage uniting you as husband and wife, and as you this day affirm your faith and love for one another, I would ask that you always remember to cherish each other as special and unique individuals, that you respect the thoughts, ideas and suggestions of one another. Be able to forgive, do not hold grudges, and live each day that you may share it together - as from this day forward you shall be each other's home, comfort and refuge, your marriage strengthened by your love and respect for each other."

Nevaren squeezes Gwens hand gently, smiling, and nods again in agreement with the captain's words.

. o O Turtledove feels vaguely confused, on a deeper level. It is apparent that she has little ability to empathize with the couple at this moment... happiness is one thing. The desire to bind the rest of your existence to another person? Completely alien, really.

Poole smiles back at Nevaren and nods to the Captain.

Lux replaces the empty box in his vest and clasps his hands behind his back and just beams at the happy couple.

Capt. Dawson says, "Just as two threads woven in opposite directions will form a most beautiful tapestry, so too can your two lives merged together make a beautiful marriage. To make your relationship work will take love. This is the core of your marriage and why you are here today. It will take trust , to know in your hearts that you truly want the best for each other. It will take dedication, to stay open to one another - and to learn and grow together. It will take faith, to go forward together without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey you both pledge today to share together."

Idrani comes into the garden through the hedge.

Idrani has arrived.

Idrani walks in with Claness, moving to quietly stand in the back.

Medes sniffles a little, and dabs at her eyes once more before folding her hands back inside her voluminous sleeves, standing to Poole's right and looking at her best friend and any-second-now-husband-plus-boss with a beaming smile plastered on her face.

Poole squeezes Nevaren's hand this time, a smile on her face for both the man holding her hand, the one speaking and the softly sniffling Medes.

Tyler sniffles and looks at her hands, one of which is in Park's. She keeps her eyes focused there and swallows with an audible click.

Darax doesn't sniffle, but he does smile. As the vows are being exchanged, he looks down to his side, almost instinctively and then back over to the wedding party.

Turtledove watches with quiet interest, dry-eyed.

Capt. Dawson sets the PADD down off to the side and looks at the happy couple for a moment before intoning, "By the power vested in me by Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets, I now declare you husband and wife." The captain looks to Nevaren and says with a wry grin. "You may now kiss the bride."

Nevaren grins and quietly thanks the Captain, before leaning foreward towards his new bride. He gently presses lips against hers, parting a soft kiss.

Park holds tight to Tyler's hand, watching the ceremony wiht a smile.

Takamura looks to Havaris as the newlyweds kiss, giving him the 'let it loose' look.

Glemm shouts out a rather loud "Hear, hear," from the back of the gardens while trying to choke down his "smoke-induced" tears.

Lux as the newlyweds break their kiss, begins to clap for the couple.

Greh? Soft kiss? Poole kisses a little more hungrily, and her right leg sorta lifts a little.

O'Rielly watches silently from the back as he arrived rather late. His face is rather expressionless as he watches.

Admiral Regal raises an eyebrow at his son and new daughter in law, stifling a huge grin with his hand. He too is soon clapping along with Lux and the others.

Cristobal murmurs to Havaris, "Ok, now."

Havaris releases a celebratory howl that has him arching backwards a bit before straightening up and throwing several little rabbit punches into the air. All of this before clapping in the prescribed 'back of hand to palm' Bajoran fashion. He doesn't fail to make good on the bouncing, no.

Golden puts two fingers to his mouth and whistles a shrill sound, then he claps his hands together in support to the conclusion of a lengthy and peril ridden courtship.

"Eeee!" That girlish squeal of delight courtesy of... uhm. NOT MEDES. Someone else. Someone... over there. Clapping a hand over her mouth for a moment, Thea mumbles to herself, "It's the makeup. They put something in it," and goes back to grinning /madly/ and clapping her hands together.

Avok follows the Ferengi's example, clapping loudly with large hands, and matching Havaris' cry decibel for decibel, in his own deep baritone.

Turtledove casts a glance at Golden, smiling, as she joins in the clapping.

Tyler slips her hand out of Park's. She suddenly stands and moves at a brisk pace toward the hedge opening. She wears a serious and dark expression on her face, and looks the more Sinclaire-ish for the effort.

Nevaren hmmmms(?) against Pooles slightly more hungry kiss, but quickly reciprocates, hodling the kiss a bit longer and with more oomph.

Nilee grins as the announcement is made, and he begins clapping strongly, before he slowly begins to raise from his seat, grinning broadly as he watches the two newlyweds.

Vor'mak takes note of the applause during the kiss. Watching Poole take the initiative, he grins in approval and loudly roars, "luHiv!" The universal translators pause shortly before stating, "She attacks him!" It's all about perspective.

Claness follows the lead of the non-blue people, watching them to see when you're supposed to do anything besides watch in silence. He claps.

Tyler passes through the hedge into the mall.

Tyler has left.

Park passes through the hedge into the mall.

Park has left.

Idrani claps politely. She murmurs to Claness, "We must have missed the contract-signing."

Turtledove's smile fades away, her clapping hands slowed to a pause as Tyler just... walks away.

Capt. Dawson takes a step forward and declares to the congregation, "It is my honor and privilege to present to you Nevaren and Gwendolyn as husband and wife!"