Triumphant return

Peter watched Mayra run towards the river. Boats had been spotted coming downstream, and she wanted to be there to greet the new Rhone brides.

Six brides had been married so far, but Peter imagined the remaining four from the original ten would act quickly now that more were arriving. They had the privilege of getting to pick their grooms at their leisure before, but that window was closing fast.

Peter was hot on Mayra's heels, as he always was these days. Now that Riley had come, he was the officer in charge and could command the slightly younger man to his heart's content. It seemed to content him to have Peter follow his sister around. 

Not that Peter minded. 

Mayra made occasional faces about it, but as far as Peter knew, had refrained from demanding an explanation from her brother regarding the orders. 

He couldn't blame her. Riley's targeted teasing was something to behold, and to invite it when she was so busy with her matchmaking duties didn't seem in Mayra's best interests. 

She glanced back at him as she came to a stop near the store and he tilted his head slightly in a silent question.

She blinked hard and returned her attention to the river ahead. He wondered what she was thinking about, and picked a neutral topic of discussion instead of trying to pry. 

"How many do you think have come this time?" Peter asked.

"I'm not sure. Are you ready to see all the Cetoan men married and settled down?" She responded.

"The thought had crossed my mind," He eyed her with a smirk, "Aren't you? The sooner we're done here, the sooner we get to go home and you get to snuggle all of Finn's babies."

Mayra's eyes glazed over for a moment as her thoughts drifted to her closest friend in the world. "That will be nice," She admitted.

"And see Dr. and Mrs. Sherman again," He continued.

"You just want us to go home for your own selfish purposes. Stop naming my reasons for wanting to be there." She pouted at him.

"My own selfish purposes?" He looked aghast. "I'm taken aback by the accusation."

"You know, you sound a lot like Riley when you do that." She complained.

"Do what?"

"Tease me like that. You've spent too much time around him, he's a terrible influence," She smiled despite the condemnation. "You grew two feet taller, learned the subtle art of sarcasm,"

"And a bit of soldiering," Peter added.

"I suppose he probably fit that lesson in there somewhere," Mayra allowed, "But you'll basically just be another Riley before long if you're not careful."

"The man's a living legend, I wouldn't complain too much about it." Peter leaned his back against a tree as they waited.

"Still, I've got enough brothers. I don't need another." Mayra rolled her eyes at him.

"What do you need?" He asked a little too seriously.

"You've got me there. I guess I don't need anything," She shrugged.

"Well, that can't be true. We only have to work out what you need," Peter put a hand to his chin in thought. "You've made it clear that I should NOT become an exact copy of Riley."

"Definitely not," Mayra chuckled.

"So what qualities that differentiate me from him should I keep?" He asked.

"You're asking me to name your good qualities?"

"Why not? We've apparently got a few minutes before the boats arrive. It shouldn't take you more than thirty seconds or so to list all the good things about me, right?" He said it with such mock sincerity that her chuckle bloomed into open laughter.

"You're right, except for the fact that you haven't added in how long it will take me to think of them in the first place," She gathered herself together to make the jab.

"You wound me, Miss," Peter put his hand to his heart.

"Well, I helped bind your wounds before, so it all balances out in the end, I'm sure." She quipped.

"Mmm, yes, when I was heroically defending the city. One of my good qualities," He raised a finger.

"Which I must reluctantly admit does not differentiate you from Riley in the slightest," Mayra raised her eyebrows.

"Ah, well. Can you not think of a single endearing or admirable aspect of mine which is not shared by your brother?"

Mayra fell silent for several moments, her face reflecting a variety of thoughts that he couldn't quite make out. He waited patiently for her to speak, determined not to let her off the hook his question had baited. 

"You feed me," She said at last. That was true. Often these days she was caught up in the whirl and duties of matchmaking, and would have missed several meals if not for Peter bringing her some fruit or other food to make sure she ate.

"If you would keep yourself fed, I wouldn't need to," He countered.

"Still, I would categorize that as an endearing trait," Mayra smiled.

Peter wanted to dwell a moment longer on what else she found endearing about him, but unfortunately the timing was not on his side today. Instead of speaking again on the subject at hand, he nodded up the river. Two large boats had just come into view.

"Your brides have arrived," he announced as he pushed off from leaning against the tree, as if the fact were not obvious.

Mayra straightened and took a deep breath, seeming to feel the weight of added responsibility as the boats came to a stop and dozens of women began stepping off.

One of the escorts stepped forward and saluted Peter, who returned the gesture.

"Welcome!" Peter smiled.

"We have one hundred Rhone women here as volunteers for matrimony," The soldier responded.

"One Hundred," Mayra whispered as she looked out over them.

"Do you want to take charge, or shall I?" Peter said softly to her, sensing that she was overwhelmed. The indignant look she shot him made him hide a laugh behind a small cough.

"Welcome, ladies! My name is Mayra, your matchmaker…" She began her practiced speech introducing herself and outlining the expectations for the rest of the day. There was no welcome dinner planned this time; Cora and the others had been consumed with the mystery of the Void and the missing ship carrying her husband and both sons. It had been over a week since its departure.

There were enough weddings to come that those celebrations would provide ample opportunity for mingling of hopeful grooms and the volunteer brides. One was scheduled for the next day.

Peter surveyed the women as Mayra spoke, taking in their reactions and attitudes. The previous ten had been somewhat easy to read, but the sheer numbers now made that almost impossible. Mayra finished her little speech and began leading the group towards the Ceto settlement, where Cora was preparing to meet them.

He watched as they followed Mayra in a column, grouped together in clumps of girls that were either related or had become friends somewhere along the way.

One stood a little apart from the others, walking with no one. The rest of the brides seemed to avoid her. It drew Peter's curiosity, but not enough to engage the woman. Her green eyes watched him from behind her face covering, but when she noticed his observation, She ducked her head and glued her eyes to the ground in front of her.

It was very strange, and he made a note to keep an eye on her.

That would be a challenge, since the women all wore similar clothing and most kept their faces covered, but if the other women truly didn't like her, he should be able to figure out who she was fairly quickly.

Passing her, he walked quickly towards the front of the line to be next to Mayra when they entered the settlement. Though there were going to be many eligible women to woo, he liked reminding the Cetoan men that Mayra was not available to them.

She hadn't protested his constant presence by her side since she'd had the dream involving the Void. He wondered if fear played a role in her allowing his guard, or if she enjoyed having him around.

Their teasing had mostly returned to their comfortable banter, and he was grateful. He was patient, and could let her take her time deciding how she felt. Especially as long as she let him stay nearby and didn't care about him scaring off other men.

He might feel guilty about it except that she had explicitly told him she didn't mind. For Mayra not to mind something must mean she preferred it, for she would never hesitate to express her disapproval of his actions.

He felt a confirmation of his suspicions when he noticed her looking around with something akin to concern. Her face settled into a smile when she spotted him, and his heart warmed.

Activity within the settlement claimed both their attention as he caught up to her.

"The Ship! The Commodore's ship has returned!"