Celestia was being torn apart by worry but did not show it. The castle was full of guests. A surprising number of ponies had arrived. Twilight Sparkle and her friends were in attendance, Cadance and Shining Armor had arrived, and ponies from all over the empire had arrived to pay respects to the pony they had once attended the funeral of. Even Discord had arrived, with promises to be on his best behaviour.

The papers called it the love story of the age.

And indeed it seemed to be. The wedding had certainly attracted the romantics. The massive hall was flooded with artists, writers, musicians, creative and romantic sorts of all kinds. It was the social event of a lifetime. How many times can a pony say they attended the wedding of a pony they had first attended the funeral of? The hall was dimly lit. At midnight, when the wedding started, the lights would go out and only few candles here and there would be lit.

The papers said that it was romance in the purest form, a conquering of the darkness.

Celestia disagreed, but kept her opinions to herself.

Spike paced near her, wearing a tuxedo and a little top hat. Violet was also near, walking around and around in circles, nervous and frightened of so many ponies. Spike had tried to hug the poor filly to make her feel better, but he had passed right through her, much to his dismay.

“There are over two thousand ponies in attendance,” Twilight Sparkle said. “We are having to turn ponies away from the hall. We’ve set up a place in the royal gardens where the overflow can gather. Midnight approaches. Are you going to be alright Celestia?”

“I am afraid Twilight,” Celestia confessed. “Marriages have always been bad for both Luna and I. I am having trouble with memories from the past, made fresh by the events in the present.”

“We both know that this is a marriage of love. Nopony is being forced into anything. I know how hard it is letting go of the past, but you and your sister deserve to be happy. Try to relax and allow it to happen,” said Twilight.

“Twilight Sparkle, sometimes I am not certain what I would do without you,” confessed Celestia, causing Twilight to blush.

As the midnight hour approached, Celestia’s worries kept increasing. She was filled with anticipation, fear, and doubt. Violet stayed close to her heels, the little foal also frightened out of her mind. Less than an hour away and Luna would be married once again. Not for political gain, but for love. Celestia sighed deeply, taking a deep breath and trying to calm her frazzled nerves.

And that was when she noticed the stench of decay.

The door opened and a guard in heavy armor appeared, his lips moving, but no words coming out of his mouth. The guard looked terrified.

“What is it?” asked Celestia in soothing tones, feeling the fear rising in her breast.

“We have unannounced guests your Majesty. I- I, uh, well, I could not turn them away. They demand to see you at once, as is proper. They do not feel they have been given a proper greeting,” the guard stammered terribly as he spoke, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring.

Celestia pushed through the door and trotted into the greeting hall, the stench of decay becoming almost overpowering.

And then, she saw them.

All of them.

There was an enormous rotting draconequus coming to greet her, his form much smaller than Celestia remembered, probably to allow him to fit into this small space better, dribbling bits of decay as he wiggled forward.

“Greetings!" boomed Hades. “I had to drag out the old meat suit. Hasn’t seen use in a while. Seemed appropriate to dress up for the wedding. I think my suit has a few wrinkles though.”

Celestia fought back the powerful urge to gag. The stench was almost overpowering. Her horn flared golden light as she forced open every window she could in the massive hall where the wedding was to take place.

Luna appeared beside Celestia, bowing slightly, smiling broadly at Hades.

Other Reapers began to crowd around the two alicorns, all of them rotten and horrifying, all of them wearing their ‘best meat suits’ for the occasion.

“The bride is jaw dropping,” the Reaper of Griffons said, handing a fallen jawbone back to the Reaper of Zebras.

The Accuser and the Defender stood close by, each of them in a different body, two ponies of one mind, both of them rotten and dripping maggots.

“You have something in your nose,” the Accuser said to the Defender.

The Defender looked down, crossing his rotten milky eyes, and saw a long corpse worm dangling from his rancid nostril. He snorted and snorked, sucking the worm into his nostril and making it vanish.

Celestia suddenly felt very ill.

“I am so glad you could make it,” said Luna graciously. “Even if you are unannounced.”

“Don’t worry, we are just here for the cake,” the Reaper of Dragons said, his body also shrunk down to fit indoors.

“We shall try to find you appropriate seating,” offered Luna. “And I must go. I must get dressed. We start soon!” she squealed excitedly as she turned and left.

“It isn’t very often we get to attend a wedding. Usually, we attend funerals,” sniggered Hades.

“Spike, please help these visitors find a seat. Move other ponies around if you must. Hurry, we are to begin soon!” commanded Celestia.

Prince Blueblood found himself in a very uncomfortable position. On either side of him sat ponies, terrible ponies, ponies who smelled bad. Ponies that were dead. Blueblood was absolutely paralysed with fear.

“Say, nice suit,” the Accuser said, trying to make idle chit chat. “I really like your suit.”

“Uh, thank you, I will pass your praise on to my tailor,” Blueblood choked out in a pained whisper, his voice barely audible.

“No, I didn’t mean your clothes,” the Defender explained. “Your suit. I lost my suit a long time ago, I had to borrow the one I am wearing right now from some poor damned soul.”

“Borrow is such a misleading word,” the Accuser said in accusatory tones. “These suits were freshly flayed from the bodies of the damned. We had so little to work with on short notice.”

Blueblood whimpered, feeling his blood run cold.

“You know Blueblood, you really should think about some of your life choices a little more,” the Accuser said in a low chilling voice. “Otherwise, there may come a time when I borrow your suit and go for a nice night out.”

Blueblood crossed his legs and tried to not piss himself.

“Continue going to the spa daily and please, keep pampering your self. Your regimen of self indulgence really does keep your flesh very presentable. Shame there is only one of you. The Accuser and I shall have to flip a coin,” the Defender said in casual cheerful tones.

Blueblood began to cry a little, shivering, his body wracked with painful fear, some of it from the dreadful words spoken, some of it from the dreadful aura of fear that the Reaper produced.

The Defender and the Accuser allowed their auras to extend only a tiny bit, just enough to scare one snobby prince nearly to death.

“You are the last one, you know that?” asked Hades. “After I claim you, I can retire as the Reaper of Draconequuskind. I’ve been looking forward to retirement for a long time.”

Discord gulped. “You don’t say,” said Discord in a trembling voice.

“I’m tired of this job. It is boring. Being a draconequus, you know how painful being bored can be, so I know you have sympathy for my position, right?” queried Hades.

Discord nodded slowly, his eyes wide with fear.

“So I have a proposal. How about we reach a professional agreement as fellow pantheon members and make things interesting… it could be like a game. Only if I tag you, you die!” exclaimed Hades, chortling as he did so.

Discord gave a dry chuckle, but didn’t find this funny in the slightest. He responded only out of professional courtesy, and a desire to keep living.

“Always so funny Hades,” muttered Discord.

“Rookwood has awakened my sense of humour. I think it was hibernating. While the other Reapers plan to add him to their mantles, I plan to use him to replace my funny bone,” Hades said, guffawing at his own joke.

Discord felt the sudden urge to go to the little draconequus room, something he hadn’t felt for centuries. Draconequus humour involved pranks… usually awful pranks. And Hades was old, and he knew all of the pranks worth knowing. Discord suddenly felt very small and insecure. He made a mental note to plead to Celestia to make him a statue once again when the wedding was over.

“The bride is beautiful, isn’t she?” Hades asked.

Discord nodded, not once looking at Luna, who stood on the podium, wearing a simple black gown with a long train. It accented her rounded belly rather than hide it. She wore a crown woven from white roses.

Hades leaned on his fellow draconequus and grinned. “It isn’t too late to do a little good in the world old boy. I’d spend some time thinking about that while you have a chance,” whispered Hades. “Do you know how long you will be sitting as a bonepile?”

Discord trembled and gulped loudly.

The ponies in the hall were almost in a panic. The dead walked among them, quite literally, and yet no pony dared to leave the hall. This was a historic event, it would be a story to tell foals and grandfoals, guaranteed bragging rights, the ability to say “I was there.”

The stench of death permeated the hall and fear filled the room, inspite of this, the mood somehow remained festive. It really was the social event of the century, so much of the pantheon gathered into one space.

The Reaper of Minotaurs was regaling the guests around him with a thrilling tale about how he had risen to his position during the dreadful war between the minotaurs and the war pigs. They listened, horrified but attentive, hanging on his every word as though their lives depended on it.

The Reaper of Griffons was sitting near the Reaper of Zebras, giving her undead love absolutely dreadful predatory looks. Their relationship was the current gossip of the denizens of Tartarus. Word had it that they played with each others’ bones on a regular basis.

Gossip was a vile sin, and had its own punishment, the tormentors using the tongues of gossipers as toilet tissue, and then returning them to their owners, not gently, and somewhat soiled.

In was in this festive atmosphere, minutes before the wedding was to actually begin, that the room suddenly went dark.

A faint light shone from Luna’s backside through her gown, but it was not enough to illuminate the room.

Celestia could hear it… smell it… feel it in the air. Panic. It was throbbing through the room right now, any second, there would be a stampede as the ponies panicked. She tried to use her magic, and could not not do so.

“NOPONY PANIC!” shouted Hades. “Now which one of you undead sons of whores snuffed the candles using shadow? I know one of you did it! What a lousy prank… at a wedding no less,” Hades said, muttering in the dark. “Shame on you!” grunted Hades.

In the dark, a single mare screamed a blood curdling scream.

“Damnit, Accuser, Defender, stop trying to scare Blueblood to death!” Hades bellowed in the dark, his voice echoing through the room.

“Blueblood seemed frightened, we placed our legs around his shoulders to comfort him,” said two voices in unison, hissing eerily in the dark. “He passed out. I don’t think we comforted him in time.”

Celestia could hear Violet. who was near her hooves, giggling madly, the little undead foal making wet gurgling noises as she did so.

There was a shuffle as something moved through the darkness, making obscene squelching and squishing noises. There was the sounds of slapping flapping flesh, a few heavy thuds, a grunt from Hades, and then Celestia saw it.

A faint blue glow.

A single candle flared to life, and Celestia could see Hades’ face was missing one of his milky white rotten eyeballs. Blue flames blazed in his gaping eye socket, illuminated by the candle, which Hades had just lit by jamming it into his eye socket and using his own infernal fires to light the wick.

Celestia was far too afraid to be able to light the candles when the darkness had fallen, but the restoration of one single candle had restored some of her nerve. She began to relight the candles. Celestia gnawed her tongue, trying not to scream.

As the candles offered up feeble light, Celestia saw a translucent figure on the podium near Luna, Rookwood stood smiling, his grin quite visible, white teeth reflecting in the faint light. Luna had lost her composure and was practically dancing in place, her hooves clattering on the stone floor, filling the hall with sound.

“Rookwood, you horrible thrice damned bastard, did you just do that?” questioned Hades, his tone demanding an answer.

“No,” replied Rookwood in sepulchral tones.

“I did it,” confessed Luna. “I felt Rookwood near and he was struggling. The darkness, however brief, gave him strength enough to project himself.”

“Well, I can’t fault you for that,” said Hades, still holding his candle, his empty eye socket glowing with a blue blaze. “But you are indirectly responsible for Blueblood soiling himself and ruining the Reaper of Ponies suits. For shame! Do you know how much trouble they had to go through to get those suits for this night?”

Luna began to chuckle at the mad spectacle, and Celestia realised that she and her sister were really very different. Celestia was ready to faint from fear and tension, and Luna was chuckling and seemed to be enjoying herself.

Celestia felt a brief feeling of thankfulness.

Cadance stood on the podium, Shining Armor nearby, smiling weakly, nodding, letting everypony know that it was now midnight. Twilight Sparkle sat in the front row with her friends, all of them terrified and clinging to one another, except Pinkie Pie, who was giggling, tittering and having the time of her life.

“The highest authority in the room should officiate this,” announced Hades. “Wait, that’s me! Damnit!”

The undead draconequus began to waddle towards the podium, still carrying his candle, his rotten flesh making terrible sounds as he moved. There was a dreadful tearing and ripping sound.

“You dropped your tail!” said Pinkie Pie cheerfully to Hades.

Hades turned around an groaned. He snapped his claws and the rotten lump he had left behind re-attached itself to his backside with a wet slurping sound that echoed grotesquely through the hall. He continued his horrible march up to the podium, each step sounding as though he had stomped upon a pathway paved in whoopee cushions.

He patted Celestia gently as he passed, as she stood at the base of the steps leading up to the podium. At his touch, much of Celestia’s fear vanished, and she felt better. She also felt soiled and dirty. The damned offered no comfort without price.

“I am positive everypony had a lovely speech prepared and there was going to be some pompous decrees and a great deal of public spectacle. Well, bugger that!” exclaimed Hades.

Luna cleared her throat and shot a glance at her sister, smiling.

Celestia scowled as she realised the lines she had so carefully written for her sister would go unannounced. The Lords of Tartarus just had to show up… Celestia mounted the platform and stood next to her sister, touching her briefly with a wing. Violet had followed her and stood near her hooves, her little wings flapping with excitement.

“Let us get this over with. My meat suit is itchy and I want to go home and get undressed,” grumbled Hades. “Ready?”

Rookwood and Luna nodded.

“You, Luna, Princess of the Night, Summoner of Shadow, Guardian of Morality in the Dreaming Realms, will you accept this thrice damned soul into eternal bondage?” asked Hades. “There is no death for either of you, so the usual lines seem inappropriate,” explained Hades.

“I do,” said Luna, nodding as she did so.

“And you, Rookwood, you of the thrice damned soul, Apprentice Reaper, Protector of Violet, Sovereign of Shadow, Lord of Psychopomps, will you allow yourself into eternal bondage with this beautiful creature that you willingly gave your living body for?” questioned Hades. “Understand, this is permanent and binding so ponder this before you answer,” warned Hades.

“I accept,” answered Rookwood, bowing his head low, not waiting a second to answer.

“Well then, our houses have united. Welcome to a new eternity of suffering that even Tartarus cannot match, the institution known as marriage. Kiss one another, do whatever messy flesh slapping rituals you kids are into these days,” said Hades.

Luna waited as Rookwood struggled to take form, several minutes passing.

“I’m trying,” said Rookwood, his voice low.

“Oh pantheon damnit, this isn’t right. A pony should be able to kiss his wife on their wedding day,” bellowed Hades, snapping his claws.

Rookwood was suddenly solid, covered in rotten weeping flesh, a large patch of skin breaking free from his side, sliding off with a sickening squelch, and then splattering to the floor.

“Ugh, well, buggery of the damned,” mumbled Hades, snapping his claws again.

Rookwood was now a skeletal pony, shrouded in a black cloak. He stood there, blue flames blazing brightly in his eye sockets.

“I assure you, the bones are mostly sanitary, dry, and smooth. Quite kissable!” To illustrate his point, Hades planted a wet kiss on Rookwood’s skull, leaving behind a terrible mess. “Damnit!” shouted Hades, looking at smeared remains of a rotten gooshy greasy kiss on Rookwood’s skull. Hades took Rookwood’s cloak and carefully cleaned Rookwood’s skull off, cleaning away the offensive gunk left behind by the rotten lips of the undead draconequus.

Luna giggled, Violet now at her hooves, who was also giggling.

Luna carefully leaned forward and planted a kiss on Rookwood’s nasal ridge, causing a flash of blue light to appear and nearly blind everypony in the hall.

“No reason to panic, that was just two souls being bound together for all eternity in mutual love. We wanted to see that, trust me, if it hadn’t happened, that would have meant that one of them or both of them had reservations, and that would mean their heart wasn’t totally into this,” explained Hades. He stood bipedally, looking somewhat angry. “Know this, what I have joined together, will stay together. Tamper with it at your own peril. Disturb it at your own caution. Try to bring damage to this union, and you will suffer the wrath of Tartarus,” Hades said, his words ringing through the hall. “I will open the gates.” threatened Hades.

His words and meaning were clear. A silence filled the hall.

Hades reached out and tapped Rookwood with his claw, making clicking sounds on Rookwood’s bones. Hades smiled. “Keep this for the night,” whispered Hades. “It isn’t much, but it will allow you to be here,” said Hades. Hades lifted his head and looked at his fellow undead co-conspirators. “We have business elsewhere!” bellowed Hades, his voice booming.

Hades snapped his claw and the Reapers in the room vanished, allowing the living to finally heave a massive sigh of relief and begin to really enjoy themselves. The room was now brightly lit, the magical globes of light now at full illumination, and Rookwood did not vanish.

“Come, dance with me!” begged Luna, giving herself over to celebration.

Celestia was glad that most of the dead were gone. She smiled down at Violet, who stood beaming beside her parents.

There were still many hours before dawn.

Author's Notes:

Aaaaaaaah, that was satisfying to publish. I've been waiting for a while.

I do so love gruesome spectacle and carnivale grotesquerie.

The Lords of the Dead know how to have a good time.

A little music... What is a wedding without music?