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She smiles up at me. There’s a small amount of nervousness on her face, too. Her smile is strained and awkward but still as authentic as possible.
Our friends and family have gathered here to celebrate us. Let’s give them a show.
She makes her way forward along the blue-cloth aisle, her feet nearly knocking into the shells that decorate the sides of the path, joining me and grabbing my hands.
The look she gives me is only intended for me, not for anybody else. It stirs my soul. I want to leap out of my body with her. I want to take her hand and soar through the skies.
“I love you,” I tell her one more time, looking down again at the lump in her belly.
She smiles at me. She almost doesn’t need to say it, but it means the realm to me when she does. “I love you,” she replies.
The harp’s gentle strumming quiets and the priest speaks to the crowd. Everybody sits at attention, except for Lasta, who is still filling his goblet.
“In the name of Vatia, we celebrate this pairing, honoring the commitment they’ve made to each other in her name, to bring life and love into the realm.”
“We celebrate Vatia’s gift,” the audience recites back.
I can see Aurora and Zalith fidgeting, and I remember their wedding and how it eschewed tradition and formality, taking place on a desolate battlefield.
Zalith has told me, in private, that he hates these kinds of ceremonies, where the audience recites everything back verbatim.
But Lorelai hangs on the priest’s every word, and I remember that this isn’t their wedding… it’s ours.
“We look to the stars, to their grand, beautiful tapestry in the sky, and seek the guidance of the five,” the priest continues. “We live our lives in harmony with their wishes. We thank Feher for the land we stand upon, and the seas we swim within. We thank Feher for this feast, and for the water that nourishes us.”
“Let Feher bless and keep us,” the crowd recites.
“We stand before Mynir, of free mind and clean spirit, to celebrate this union and give thanks for our agency. Today, we are of one mind in welcoming this union.”
The priest looks toward Lorelai.
“Lorelai, do you accept Mynir on this day, standing with free mind and clean spirit to accept this union?”
“I do.”
He turns toward me.
“And Slyth, when you stand before us today, are you bound by Mynir, serving freely in his name, to accept this union of your own free will?”
“I am,” I reply.
He nods, gesturing once more to the crowd.
“We thank Mynir for the beauty of this union,” the crowd replies in turn.
“And may Oella bless and recognize this union, sheltering it from the passage of time, and from the clutches of Atia, the harbinger,” the priest declares.
“Oella bless and see you,” the crowd replies, together with the priest. “May you long bond together in the absence of Atia, but welcome her in her time.”
I smile out at the crowd, in sheer disbelief that this is really happening.
I never once in my life imagined that my time would come. I’ve been to so many ceremonies, and they’ve all seemed so far out of my reach.
“And now, if you’d declare your love before Vatia, so that I may pronounce your bond,” the priest says.
I take out a piece of parchment and unfurl it, but it’s Lorelai who speaks first.
“Slyth,” she says, punctuating the silence. “When I met you, I had a fire in me that burned deep. But it was relentless and ever-burning. It guided me and blinded me. It protected me and damaged me.
