The Reinhold Edict, 1967

[Nectorist 12869]

The Reinhold Edict

Issued and averred by

Her Majesty

Atstana de

Regne Petrère

1967

 

---

With the Synod’s conclusion, and the declaration from His Holiness, Caius I, to allow for civil unions between same-gender couples, the Commonwealth will accommodate and follow the decision of the Canonist Church. I began this discussion with the help of Queen Sybille I, Tar-Caraneth, and Viceroy Cesar I, because I saw the love between two of my own knights, one now my Chancellor.

 

Wilford and Atticus Reinhold, in my eyes, uphold every value of the Commonwealth. They act with love on their sleeves, chivalry in their hearts, and dreams in their eyes. You are both true Petrans, and though my actions may not have harvested the results that I yearned they would, they have reaped at least one consolidation. I can declare you together in civil union, and so I shall.

 

From this decision, I hereby unveil The Reinhold Law; Civil Unions.

 

ARTICLE VII, 

THE REINHOLD LAW; CIVIL UNION

I. Definition of Civil Union

A relationship between a couple that is legally recognized by the governmental authority of the Commonwealth of the Petra, and holds all the rights and responsibilities within the Catherinian Code that marriage otherwise would.

 

II. Rights and Restrictions of Civil Union

a. Civil Unions will be beholden to laws regarding Cross-Breeding, Consanguinity, Age, and Adultery.

b. Civil Unions in relation to Noble Titles shall act the same as a married couple, allowing for the joined couple to be Peer and Consort, or Peer and Peer should they declare to share the title.

c. Those joined under Civil Union will be considered Partners under the law, and not ‘Husband and Husband’ or ‘Wife and Wife’, though there shall be no restriction on the terms being used casually.

 

III. Inheritance

a. Should there be no legally adopted children, the Partner shall be entitled to the assets of the deceased.

b. Partners can not inherit titles from the deceased unless granted by the Crown.

 

IV. Ceremony

a. The Civil Union Ceremony must be performed and officiated by a government official.

b. The Ceremony must take place in a government, crown, or private property, and can not happen on Church land.

c. The Ceremony may not use Canonist Rites, vows to God, or include prayers about the Union.

d. Queen Catherine I requires that the officiant wear a funny hat.

 

---

Her Royal Majesty, Catherine I, By the Grace of GOD, Queen of the Commonwealth of the Petra, Marquise de Val d’Estenou, Countess of Temesch and Moere, Baroness of Garmont, Valfleur, Vallagne-en-Petra, Eagles Peak, Brasca, and of the Phoenixspire, Protector of the Meadows, Defender of Liberty

[tilly 5115]

"I love that this man was the one to post it." A fist was thrust in the air to celebrate one Father David's contributions as the Orateur of the Garmont Assembly. 

[beetle 3315]

"GAY RIGHTS! YEAAAAAAAAAAAA!" cheered Marisol.

[tezzaract 191]

"You're kidding me- I thought my brother and Wilford were just very affectionate room-mates! Who-ever could have guessed!?" Angelina feigns shock, and wanders off to go hug her brother and (now-officially) brother-in-law to death. On that note, if anybody would like to civil union her terminally single gay self...

[Destructokeith 1142]

"so does this mean that ich wont get put out of ein job? Artel asks as he dons his fishing hat and looks at his every loyal Detlef "come boy! we must find der Reinhold's!"

[PrimnyaQuorum 4000]

In some far-away lands, A Watcher reads over a copy - word travels far, and his reach farther. 

 

He wonders if he'll ever find a roommate like Wilford and Atticus are to each other - it would help with the nigh-unbearable taxes he faces.

 

He smiles softly at his own errant thoughts, words scribbled down onto his copy as he returns his mind to his travels ahead.

[MrMojoMordor 2413]

Pym Volkov nods approvingly - not because he's one for this unions, (he has a few doubts himself) but because the bill has stirred up the pot in Petra among nobles.

Perhaps he should go and offer himself as a 'champion' to fight for the one-armed Augusten against the 'current' Knight-Commander?

Edited March 11, 2024 by MrMojoMordor

[mothsthetic 2250]

To say Chancellor Wilford Reinhold never saw this coming would be an understatement. The bill no less than completely blindsided the knight. 

 

He remembers when he first came to the Commonwealth. God- thirty years ago, now. Still a nobody, still believing the man he loved to be deceased, still chasing after darkspawn in the night and drinking himself half-dead in the day. If he could look at himself, take that lost young man by the shoulders and tell him “We did it”, the lad would laugh in his face. Maybe rightfully so. There were countless nights spent praying. Clutching the Lorraine between his hands, reciting the prayers he memorized as a boy. He went to Church. Often- nearly every day. And he prayed he would see that beautiful man with the aengelic smile one last time. That God would forgive him. And that he would marry that man. 

 

God makes no mistakes. He makes obstacles. And through the decades, Wilford and Atticus have overcome every single one thrown their way. And when the Queen smiled at him, told him she would fight for their love, fight for their rights. He broke. Wilford has never liked crying. But it felt nice to that time. 

 

And it feels nice now. To let it out. Sitting at his desk, that same Lorraine from all those years ago held to his heart as his shoulders shake. He looks to the portrait on his desk of his family- His partner, his son, his daughter, his sister-in-law, and that kind old man he never thought he would live to become. And he smiles. 

 

“We di’ et.”

[Hom 1987]

After the assembly had concluded, after the adrenaline was gone- What Atticus was left with was a quiet, lingering shock as he sits at his kitchen table, clutching his copy of the bill and reading it over again, and again, and again. There’s no going back from this, after all. No slinking back into hiding, no more attempts to lie. There’s a terror, to that. He can’t remember the last time he wasn’t, at least in some part, hiding.

 

Running and hiding may as well be the Lucien traditional pastime. He remembers how his father hid from them daily, in his workshop- He remembers how Angelina ran when she was young, though he holds no ire against her for it, no matter how the years apart had stung. He had run, too. He could not make himself a hypocrite, when he’d spent so many years of his life with his head low, and his feet quick. When he first came to Petra, it was with the nervous stumbling of someone grasping for a lifeline in the dark. He found that, eventually, where he least expected. He found it in who he least expected.

 

What he still hesitates to admit, even now- Is that he almost ran then, too. It was terrifying, to allow love with risk. Even when his heart made clear what it wanted, he fought to stifle it. It was too much, too brave for him, the eternal coward. He would hesitate when their hands linked in the street, and quietly pull away. Compromising with his own fear, by only allowing himself words of love in the quietest of places. That hurt too, like a knife in his chest. It hurt far more than just himself. Atticus’ own fear had always been far more ruthless to him than any other person could be.

 

The people, in reality, were kind. It took time, decades of time, for him to outgrow a terror of being known. For him to brave even simple affections, and to raise his voice above a whisper. To realize that, with the hesitance of someone miles from home, he was safe here. A circle of people gather around him, laughing and cheering at the sight of his engagement ring, and ask for invitations. An old woman with graying, orange hair and a wit of gold sits at his dining table, and tells him his love is pure. A young woman, with the same hair of fire, hands him a missive that will shake the world. She tells him that she was inspired- And he feels terror slowly replaced with an elated, creeping hope.

 

They lose, of course. They were always going to lose. But in losing, people begin to talk. For every spat against the ground, he hears ten more that speak of his affliction as if it were something to honor. Deserving, in the minds of so many more than he thought, of decencies he’d never even considered for himself. Recognition, for one. Up until the last moment, he still doesn’t believe it possible- But he feels lighter.

 

It’s impossible, to entirely banish a terror so deep-rooted in your soul you’ve never felt what it’s like to live without it. For so long, he had stepped around it by speaking a million comfortable lies. They can be padded, and changed, and made to suit whoever hears them. The truth is far more stark, and unchanging. He can only give one version of the truth, terrifying and brazen, and yet-

 

He finds Wilford, in his study. They sit quietly for some time, just looking over the words. There was no returning to mistruth, after this. Not because of the edict alone- But because doing so would be to dash the efforts, of the young Queen who was willing to take on the world to allow them that simple dignity. 

 

It’s not about marriage. It’s about truth.

 

Someday, he’ll feel he’s done enough to repay her- Maybe when he’s far older and grayer than he even is now. The little Queen, the war Queen, who lived a life of pains unknown, and would still risk herself infinitely for her people. If nothing else, he will dedicate the rest of his life to enforcing her legacy. A kingdom both stronger, and kinder, than any he has ever known. The only one that has ever wanted the truth from him. He would endure any terror, to show her she did not risk it all for nothing.

 

Atticus takes Wilford’s hand in his own, as tears threaten to prick at his eyes. He can’t help but laugh, quietly, at the lightness in the chest- At the strange, and alien lack of fear.

 

“We did it.”

 

Spoiler

 

 

Edited March 11, 2024 by Hom

[Rhettthecoldone 252]

Somewhere in the lands of Petra ventured a halfblood of two elven sub races. He kicked at the rocks on the dirt paths, singing tunes to himself as he thought up ideas for a Hohkmat District Renovation.

 

Only there had he seemed to of stomped right on a paper, by accident of course. Faeran crouched to the earth to retrieve this mysterious flier. Someone must’ve dropped it against the ground on there way out of Vallagne. Well, he might as well give it a read…

 

And that he did, heart dropping to his feet. In fact, his feet might’ve moved just like his heartbeat. The elven man raced for the Reinhold Manor! Once inside, a wide hug to both Atticus and Wilford were insisted upon. He never really gave hugs to the two, but he decided to get over that and show them the Moonboy love.