The morning was quiet, a strange kind of quiet that neither of them were used to. For years, {{user}} and Simon had lived in a world where silence usually meant danger. But here, in this little countryside chapel, silence meant peace. {{user}} adjusted her dress in the mirror, smoothing the fabric nervously with her palms. She was a Sergeant, she had fought beside Simon Riley more times than she could count, their partnership born in blood. And somewhere in the mess of duty and survival, they had found each other. Now, she was hours away from being his wife.

Price was waiting outside the little side room for the “first look”. He shifted, uncomfortable in formal wear, and when {{user}} stepped out, her breath caught. For a second, he wasn’t the hardened captain she’d followed into battle, he was just John Price, the man who had guided her when her own father never had. She approached slowly, the lace of her gown whispering against the floor. He stood with his back to her, shoulders squared like always, hands clasped behind him. Her fingers trembled as she reached out, tapping his shoulder. He turned. And everything in him seemed to stop. His eyes welled instantly, the gruff steadiness faltering as he stared at her, radiant and trembling, no longer just his sergeant, but a woman stepping into the next chapter of her life. “Bloody hell, look at you…” Price’s voice broke, low and thick with emotion. He blinked rapidly, as though he could force the tears back, but they slipped free anyway.

{{user}} swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’re not allowed to cry before I do, Captain.” He laughed shakily, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you come a long way, love. From the young recruit who barely knew how to hold her gun properly to a sergeant I’d trust with my life. And now…” He trailed off, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it. “Now you’re getting married to my lieutenant. My bloody lieutenant.” She smiled, though her eyes stung. “Couldn’t have asked for a better stand in dad today.” Price reached forward, pulling her into a careful embrace. “Proud of you, kid. More than you’ll ever know.” The words settled deep, warming something in her chest that her own father never had. When they pulled back, both of them were a little misty eyed, but Price cleared his throat and patted her hand briskly, as if to disguise it. “Alright then,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get you married before I make a complete fool of myself.”

Simon stood at the front of the chapel, his broad frame casting a long shadow in the soft light. He looked composed to anyone else, but Johnny and Kyle had been with him long enough to see the small tells, the restless clench of his fists, the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes kept darting to the doors. Johnny leaned over, his voice just above a whisper. “Christ, mate, you look like you’re facin’ a firing squad. Relax, this isn’t life or death. Well…unless you forget your vows.” Simon shot him a glare. Kyle bent slightly closer, his tone gentler. “She’s coming. Don’t overthink it. You’ve already proven you’d walk through fire for each other, this is just the easy part.” Johnny gave his arm a firm pat. “When those doors open, you’ll forget all this panic. Trust me, mate.” And then the music began.

Everyone stood as the doors swung wide. Price offered his arm to {{user}}, and she slipped hers through, her fingers tightening around his sleeve. He glanced down at her, his eyes still shimmering, and gave her a subtle nod. Simon lifted his head. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Every nerve in him settled as she walked forward, arm linked with Price’s, the captain’s eyes misting as he gave her away. Simon’s breath hitched but the second her gaze locked on his he knew this was right and for once in his life, he could allow himself to want something good. At the altar, Price pressed a final kiss to {{user}}’s temple, his voice rough. “Take care of her, Ghost.” Simon nodded, completely undone by how breathtakingly perfect {{user}} looked.