The Wedding

Written by Charlie
It was not how Marzia had imagined her wedding day would be. There were no guests beyond the Greenmont men - a small part of her was glad of that. She knew nearly all of them by sight if not by name. A few had ridden in from the further reaches of the noble family's lands.

So many were gone from before, and although all would find a small smile or a respectful nod for Lucos' new bride, it was all hushed. Hushed kind words. They were all witnesses and behind them the space filled only by new ghosts.

Lord Greenmont's brows had been knit as they exchanged the words that would bind them; at the end of their marriage vows, he too found a smile. It was a warm and soft expression that fell into the deep creases of his face. Green eyes bright for his new wife. Her golden eyes were so different from the dark brown that had belonged to his first Lady Greenmont. She was a great deal, unlike Alyse. This woman's hand trembled as he took it in his and raised it respectfully to his lips.

His gaze then darted away to the crowd, making a spectacle of looking for something.

"I suddenly remember my lady's protective beast, but I see no tail nor hear no growl, so perhaps I am safe, or mayhaps I am in the gravest of danger," he laughed and a few joined him. He squeezed his bride's fingers in his palm. What a deal they had struck and what a life they would now live to keep it.

"My lord has not kissed her properly yet," someone called back to the Lord's jest.

The newlyweds exchanged a look - an apology for all that would come

Later that evening...

"I trust you know well enough the anatomy of a man not to be afraid of it," Lucos' voice was low but direct - ears were listening beyond the walls and door. Marzia heard his word and heard him step towards her, where she sat on the edge of the bed, her ripped over-dress was a tarnished fabric puddle at her feet and she held against her the light fabric of her undergarment. "I hope you know me well enough that I cause no fear either."

The hinges of the door rattled as dull, jovial, thuds of hands and boots collided with the wood. Music and calls slipped under the door mixed in with the percussion.

All without were enough in their drink that watching the bedding seemed like a good sport, and were growing impatient to get to it.

"They will break it down," Marzia turned to look over her shoulder at her new husband. He shook his head and looked towards the noise.

"Julian Fletcher, I hear you, and you've no place to be demanding of me to do anything in my own hall, let alone chamber!" The knocking quietened, briefly. "Men are never maids," he offered softly to Marzia in conciliation.

"How should I lay?" Marzia asked, practically.

"On your back on the bed," Lucos' tone matched hers.

"Your leg-" Marzia began to caution against the arrangement but was cut off by a loud bang on the door.

"On your back, damn my leg!" Lucos stared with fury at the door. "You asked, and I have answered."

Marzia positioned herself as she was bid on the lord's bed. Lucos let one of the curtains which ran between the posts loose a little way so that if she wished his young bride need not see her audience.

"Come in, if you must!" Lucos called when all was arranged and he, himself, was on the bed. There was a shuffling now beyond the door, and for a moment it seemed that maybe no one would enter.

The door did open, it was Olyver who crossed the threshold first, the others following in his shadow.