He stood on a green hill in Lough Derg. Rain sloughed from his hair, ran in rivulets down his bearded cheeks, and soaked through the lapses in his armor. The wind, when so minded, beat needles into his weatherworn face, and he squinted his eyes against the driving downpour.


From here, despite the rain, he could see the fastness of Druim Cain, impenetrable, shrouded in mists, a giant of stone and timber protecting the homelands from the merciless hands of invaders. Here, on this hill, Daerein Maghrein was safe. Safe from weapons, safe from strife. From violence.


That bulwark kept the invaders out.


But there was nothing it could do to keep Celts from leaving.


Something caught in his chest, then, and his breath held for a moment. Days long past grew in his mind’s eye, and he remembered sun on his youthful shoulders, light laughter by his side. He remembered friendship, and battles fought in the rolling lands beyond Cain. And he thought of Lotharian, gone so long.


His eyes fell to the sodden green at his feet. Where the fates had taken his friend and guildmaster all that time ago, he had never known. He had never cared to find out, to pursue it. In these times, it was enough that the man was gone, and Daerein still felt the loss.


And he felt the loss of another, one who was close to him, but closer still to Lotharian. She had gone before he had, but she was still alive. He was sure of it. He had seen her on the greens of Emain perhaps a fortnight past. Before recognition had come, he had raised his mace and rushed her, ready to swing, and then had stopped in his tracks, frozen, dumbfounded even, while battle raged around him.


He had squinted, looked ahead, and had decided beyond doubt that it was *her*, she who had gone so long ago. There had been rumors, of course. There were tales of the treachery, of her resurfacing to use her powers for the good of the other side of things.


A stumbling armsman had knocked into him then, brought him to his senses, and he was forced to rejoin the battle. But his heart was not in it at that moment, and it was not long before steel found him, and he fell.


Later, by the bindstone, while the healer worked her arts and brought him back to shape, the cleric's face would not leave his mind. But there was no room for more hate in his heart. There was nothing he could do to bring himself to loathe her, to despise her for her decision. He had known her too long. It was one thing to bring death to nameless enemies, thick trolls and fragile Avalonians, and to be stricken by them… It was another to hurt a friend, even a once-friend as Thrennoadae had been.


He sloughed off his sodden cloak and gathered the overweight material in his arms. Then, he folded it neatly so that the emblem of the Phoenix faced outward, proud. The battle stained garment was placed on the ground, on the crest of this nameless hill in Lough Derg. He had worn this shroud for years; it had been with him on the last day he had seen Threnn, on the last day he had seen Lotharian, and again, on this most recent time in Emain when he saw her once more.


It was time for a new cloak.


Drawing a dagger from a small pouch at his belt, he stood for a long moment, letting the rain wash over his body, and then he drove the dagger through the fabric and into the ground, pinning it there.


Then he turned and left the place, his memories and sorrows not gone, not erased, but abated, shackled to the soil of a land he could only help but love.

(If any part of this is a little confusing, its because I've been writing Waybreaker as concurrent against Friar Falling's timeline. So this draws off both -.-)


Aelhaeran shielded his eyes from the dazzling morning sun as he strode a brisk pace along the muddy riverbank of Rylestone. It will still quite early, but the sunrise alone was already promising a warm, clear day. Quite fitting for the event about to unfold. Today, oddly enough, was to be the wedding of Thrennoadae and Predian. The second wedding that is. It'd been some time since he first set foot in Albion. Some time since his first arrival in the harbour of Gothwaite. The chilly morning he'd first met Threnn as he wandered Gothwaite Castle. In spite of himself Aelhaeran shivered at the dark memories of the time he'd spent wandering, little more then an exile without any real path or identity left to call his own. That lost feeling, and the darkness that had occupanied it had first been shaken when he'd met the Celt turned Cleric. As he walked, Ael smiled too himself at his own melodramatic sentiment. If it hadn't been for Threnn, and later on Ascension, he'd probably still be a hopeless wandering vagabond. Still, he wasn't ready to face Threnn again since falling out of grace with the Church of Albion. Threnn or Predian. Predian, the very man that had helped him learn his way along the path of a Friar to begin with. He owed them both a great debt for their friendship, one he didn't feel worthy of being able to repay as he was now. Still, he wasn't about to miss their wedding. Even though he had no intention of walking right into the middle of it. As long as he could at least keep eye over it from afar that would be enough for him.


A sudden resistence on his foot shook him out of his thoughts. Glancing down, he realised he'd wandered a bit closer to the water then he would have liked and the muddy riverbank was clinging to his leather boots in search of a new victim. Making each step a tad more difficult as he had to pull a foot out of the mud to take another stride forward. With a quiet oath he moved further up the riverbank and onto the grass. He should be near his destination by now anyway considering how long he'd been walking. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when he noticed the emerald leaf'd trees ahead of him had been festively decorated with long, white streamers. This had to be the right place. Ael slinked away from the river and towards the epicentre of the promised festivities. No tree had escaped whomever it was that had done the decorating. As he moved further, following the riverbank, he spotted what was sure to be the ceremony's staging area. Near the riverbank began several rows of what looked to be benches. Even at this early hour he could see people scurrying about the area, making preperations, trying to arrange seating and working on further decoration of the area. A few select people were dashing madly about from place to place with armsfull of various blossoms, some in pots, others simply twined into bundles. As he watched from his vantage point, the lavish potted flowers were being deployed in various places around the area that had been set aside for the actual ceremony. Much to his surprise, one lone figure had actually climbed a nearby tree and was busy trying to entwine some of the blossom stems through out its branches. Elsewhere, someone was busy working on hanging the brillant white and brown banner of Ascension on a nearby house. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, he wondered if they were behind schedule, judging from the frenzied pace at which they were working.


With a quick glance around, Ael spotted his perfect perch for this morning. Nearby was an old, streamer laden oak tree, its branches drifting lazily out over the water of the river. Content with his discovery he slipped over to the massive oak, slinking under the shade of its leafs. Streamers dangled a fair ways down from the branches. Far enough down to brush his face as he approached the trunk of the oak. Gentlely rolling one between his thumb and finger he realised the white streamers were actually woven out of a soft silk. As if to tease him for his discovery, a soft breeze swept across the river causing the streamers to sway outwards as they rode the wind. The streamers rippled like water in the air as the breeze caressed them. Several of them persisted in drifting lazily into his face, tickling his skin and ruining the otherwise beautiful display they were putting on. Seeking escape from the streamers, he took a seat at the base of the tree, leaning back into it with a thankful sigh. It'd been a fair walk all the way to Rylestone from Camelot and he was grateful for a chance to get off of his legs for a bit. As he crossed his legs and put his arms behind his head his roman leather armour creaked as if to agree with his sentiments. Much to his satisfaction he noted he could see the entire ceremony quite well from this vantage point. Although there was no way he'd be able to hear so much as a word of it at this distance. Not even if they yelled the vows.


"Ah ha!" a voice startled him even as a weight suddenly struck him in the side, plowing him over onto the grass. Before he could even get a handle on what had happened he found himself pinned to the ground.


"Aurora." he accused as he regonized the piercing blue eyes he was staring up at. The mistress of the Guild of Shadows had easily taken him completely by surprise. He hadn't heard so much as a rustle of grass at her approach, it was unnerving. Unlike himself she was favouring a simple cut green tunic and brow leggings, with no cloak to interfere. Her usual tomboyishly short dark hair looked as if it had rebelled against the comb this morning.


"I thought I might find you here." she pronounced, satisfied with her deductive skills as she grinned impishly down at him. She was straddling him and pinning him with her hands on his shoulders. But he knew she lacked the weight to truely keep him pinned in that fashion if he really made a move to get her off of him.


"Get off of me." he stated flatly, giving her a chance before he removed her himself. Being pushed over onto his back had pulled his cloak taunt underneath him, resulting in an uncomfortable amount of pressure around his neck from its collar. In addition he had landed rather uncomfortably on one of the oak tree's roots.


"I thought you said we were friends?" she pouted as she stared down at him, leaning her face a bit to close to his for comfort as she tried to glean an answer. She'd been acting like she was without a care in the world since he'd relunctantly accepted her friendship.


"We are. Now get off me before I remove you." he warned. In the back of his mind he wondered how Aurora, being such a high ranking member of the Guild of Shadows, got away with swapping moods from a serious woman to a playful girl at the drop of a hat when it tickled her fancy.


"Spoilsport." she accused, rolling off of him. But only part of the way as she rolled onto her side with her head on his arm.


"All the way off." he pointed out gruffly.


"Came to see the wedding?" she asked, changing the subject. He'd learned that whenever she was doing something he objected to in this fashion, she'd change the subject so he'd put up with her position a little bit longer.


"Aye, what did you think I came for?" he sighed, letting her be for a moment anyway. Though he should probably stop letting her think her ploy would work on him all the time before it became a habit for her.


"Sunshine? Fresh air?" she offered.


"A moment's peace?" he countered.


"Hmph." she grunted, finally sitting up and releasing him.


"Why are you here?" he asked as he too sat up. Getting a foot under him he got to back his feet in order to free his cloak properly before it choked him. Brushing dirt off himself absently, he gazed down at Aurora, who was still sitting on the grass before the oak tree staring up at him.


"Because you are." she answered in a tone that said she thought he was an idiot for even having to ask.


"Don't you have something more important you could be attending to?" he responded as he reclaimed the seat at the base of the oak tree he had to begin with. Making sure he didn't sit on his cloak.


"Not really, no." Aurora said as she crawled over and mimic'd his posture, sitting beside him and leaning against the wide trunk of the oak tree with her arms behind her head. "Are you really not going to go over there and talk to them?" she asked suddenly, swinging back to her serious persona.


"Nay, this is fine for now." he replied as his eyes once again drifted back towards the distance wedding preperations.


"ou sure?" she persisted, her blue eyes suddenly fixing on his face intensely.


"Aye."


"Alright then.." Aurora accepted, her voice falling off into a quieter tone. Without another word she slinked over closer to him, slipping an arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder before she too cast her eyes over towards the wedding area.


"Aurora.." he warned as her habit of being uncomfortably familiar with him resurfaced yet again.


"Just for today, alright?" she asked quietly, not taking her eyes off the preperations going on in the distance.


"Fine." he sighed, letting her be. Whenever she spoke in that tone it felt like the next negative word out of his mouth would somehow shatter her feelings. Whether he liked it or not, she often won these little duels more then lost them once she started using that tone of voice.


"It's nice isn't it?" she asked in distant voice.


"What is?" he replied, answering a question with a question.


"A wedding," Aurora said.


"Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it." he warned, fearing where her train of thought was going now.


"Silly, what did you think I was going to do? Run down and catch the bouqet?" she chided him.


"ou wouldn't." Aelhaeran tensed, turning to look down at her. He honestly wouldn't put it past her.


"Of course not, I'm already married." she turned and grinned mischeviously at him, referring to the cover identity as his wife she'd used at Lord Hawktorn's banquet. Or rather, the cover identify as her husband that she'd pulled on him without warning at the banquet.


"We're not married." he stated darkly as he gave her a flat look.


"Now now dear." she chided, mocking him. "We'll talk about it later."


"We're NOT married." he repeated with more convinction as his irritation with Aurora began to rise.


"Shhh!" she chastised, putting a finger to her lips for emphasis before reaching up with the same finger and pushing his head away from her. Turning his eyes back towards the wedding area. "Its starting."


"We're not married." he muttered one last time under his breath as he turned his attention back towards the area of the wedding.


Back towards the wedding of two of his dear friends.

<chortles>


Watch out, m'boy. More than one lad's found himself wed without warning!


And they say men are the smart ones. Poor things.

/bump

bump from a hibby attending the wedding

As Milric walked her down the stairs, she could feel the excitement stirring around them. True, it was just a wedding, but the guild coming together was a large event. They didn’t always have time for one another, especially as of late, so this was a double treat. Heady scents and aromas hit her nostrils as she and Milric arrived on the main floor of the house. Here and there were folks she’d never seen before, scurrying about and making sure everything was ready.


They stepped outside and the early morning light dazzled her with its brilliance as she lifted a hand to shield her eyes. Blinking away the bright light, she was finally able to focus on the area about her and Predian’s home and smiled softly at the preparations. A few of her guildmates had gone out of their way it seemed to decorate Rylestone with streamers and all sorts of varied flowers in pots and woven into the very tree branches. She felt touched that her friends cared so much about her and Predian’s happiness. Most of course didn’t realize the recent heartaches and the near loss of the friar, the only came for the happiness and celebration. The knight at her arm gazed about and she almost thought she saw a warm smile as he shared a moment in their happiness. An enigma always, that one would be, she realized. Very few knew the truth of Milric’s past, his present, his entire existence. With a gentle squeeze, she let him know she was ready to continue, and they made their way down the stairs.


All around her the guild banners of Ascension fluttered in the gentle breeze, making her smile even brighter. “Looks bloody better than The Court’s,” she teased, nudging the stoic paladin at her side. A soft grunt was her only answer and she laughed. Down near the river, she could hear the sounds of the minstrels playing some sort of Gaelic tune they’d learned, hoping to surprise her. She didn’t have the heart to tell them they’d learned a birthing song, and a war march, it sounded well enough and no one else realized. Her eyes danced as she saw Vektar, Graver and Seymoura playing their instruments under the shade of a tree nearby. A glance about her and she saw more faces she recognized that were making their way to the benches as she appeared from the house. Down below at the end of a long white runner was Landric talking softly to Predian. He hadn’t seen her yet, waiting for her there and she took the time to admire the man she was about to marry for the second time.


Though his hair and beard were silvered, there was an aura of youthfulness about him, perhaps in the crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. Dark brown eyes that returned your gaze and a warmth to his features that drew a person in. He was decked out in his finest, a deep blue tunic and black breeches tucked into a pair of polished boots. His hands were so used to holding a staff that she watched even then as he struggled to find a comfortable place to rest them. In and out of his pockets they went, clasped in front, clasped behind and she stifled a soft chuckle. Standing at his side, looking a bit exasperated was Krendle as he patted him again on the back and she could see a glint of gold in his hand as he was surely assuring Predian that he did indeed have the ring.


Scattered throughout the benches were the rest of her guild family. There on one side was Rharan with Sabreen, and their twins sleeping peacefully on a blanket under a close tree. His arm tight around his wife, he nodded to Threnn with a gentle smile. Athelston and Gardan were situated on the other side of the row, both looking rather upstanding for once. Vocca, Cerisdor, Merdinus and some of The Court were seated throughout the crowd, guild colors of brown and soft tan dominated the crowd. Here and there were other colors, other guilds and her heart was touched at each and every one. A slow hush settled in as she took slowly moved to the end of the aisle, the breeze catching her waves of hair and tumbling them about her as if a veil. Graver caught her eye, and with his nod, the three began to play the march they’d chosen out for her. To her surprise, it was completely perfect. A soft blending of the traditional Albion wedding march touched with the trill of Graver’s flute as he added in a Gaelic rendition.


At that moment, Predian turned to see Thrennoadae standing there, and she could see the hint of tears in his eyes as his gaze fell upon her. Her breath caught in her throat as all the love she had for him welled up inside her and threatened to burst forth. She forced the butterflies that invaded her stomach down and smiled up at Milric next to her.


“I’m ready,” she whispered softly, and the knight smiled.


“Of course you are Threnn,” and he turned to her and offered her a gallant bow. As if the moment was meant to be, as the knight in his gleaming armor began the slow walk down the aisle preceding her, a stray beam of sunlight caught his breastplate and almost illuminated the man with its touch. Thrennoadae chuckled softly to herself and shook her head. “But o’ course.”


Milric reached the end of the aisle, and with a graceful precision he made a bow to Predian, and then took his place as Thrennoadae’s protector. Another nod of Graver’s head, and the music changed again. This time into a sweeping, lulling sound that whispered through the crowd and hung upon the air itself. The flowers that decorated the trees above the aisle shivered, and a soft shower of petals rained down as the Celt started her slow walk down to the man she loved. A delicate halo of petals tumbled through her hair, and brushed against her soft shoulders as she continued to walk, and she could almost see the sly smiles play across three minstrel’s lips. She mouthed a soft thank you, and hoped the sparkle of tears in her eyes showed the depth her appreciation.


And then, she stood next to him, her Predian. Her hand actually trembled as she reached out to clasp his, tucking the small bouquet of white and yellow iris’s in her other hand. “I love you,” he couldn’t help but whisper.


“And I lo’e ye,” she replied. A soft clearing of the throat brought their attention back to Landric who looked a bit flushed to be in front of so many people.


“You two will be the death of me,” he whispered to them, but the warm smile on his lips belied the words. In his hands he clasped a book, and with a few shaking fingers, he parted the pages and opened to the one he had marked.


“My dearest friends, we gather here today to witness the union, the reunion, of two of our most treasured friends. We come together as witness, as partakers, as companions as they restart their journey together and we shall hope and pray for the strength of this joining. May the mistakes of the past be remembered, but the pains be forgotten.” His voice was clear and filled the small area, the joy in his eyes a testament to what he felt.


Predian clasped her fingers to his, and she could feel his eyes upon her. She squeezed gently and smiled back before Landric’s voice came again. “To walk the path of life with another, to share its trials and tribulations with someone that is your partner is what many hope to obtain. Some seek it and never find it. Some find it and never realize it. Others find it and let it slip away for one reason or other.”


“The two before us now sought it and realized it. They also let it slip away once before. Today the come here and vow to the world that they shall keep it and one another for always. Is there any truer testament of love than to find it again once it was lost?”


The cleric’s fingers flipped the page, and he shifted from foot to foot before continuing. “Let us continue with a prayer.” As the heads bowed across the crowd, there was one that did not. Hidden under the thick shade of an elm tree, Kaidric watched the ceremony unfolding before him. Things inside him were confused, a jumble, and he loathed a part of himself. Yet, he could not escape the need, the want he had for the woman marrying his brother.

bigbadabump! MORE!

 

-----signature-----

The messenger was at his whit's end.


He had endured the path through Lyonesse guarded by the statuesque Telemons, passed the house of the undead Pikemen and ran for his life near the cottage of the infamous Pygmy Goblins.


He was now in the deepest parts of the forsaken land, the place where you die quickly and get pulled into the waters by all manner of evil.


All of a sudden he saw a sitting figure in the lea of a monolith. Wearily he approached placing his feet carefully to avoid making any noise.


The robed figure took a long swig from a jug he had then let out a tremedous belch - scaring all of the animals nearby. Startled by a grouse flying by him the messenger ducked, and looking up he saw the end of a crackling staff.


'What's your business lad' the robed man asked.

'A message for Pedevere Lord Mage' the young man stuttered.

'Mage - hah' and the man lifted his robes to show his battle scarred leather. 'Pedevere is over there' he pointed with his staff.


The messenger rose and peered into the mist. Then he saw the man he was after. Lying face down in the mud, a woman walking around him kicking his lifeless form.


'But he's dead - we must help him' and the messenger want to draw his blade.


'Easy lad' the Friar said 'ou don't want to go upsetting Morgana' If possible the messenger paled even more. 'She'll tire of him in a few minutes and I'll pop down there and pull his spirit back. Now what's this message?'


The young man pulled a scroll from his pack 'A wedding invite. The Lord Predian is marrying'

'Off with ye lad then' the Friar said and thankfully for both of them the messenger began his precarious journey home.


As he burned the message the Friar chuckled. 'Best you don't try and go to Camelot old chum. Not after the last time.' Then seeing Morgana had left the Friar went of to revive his friend.


____


Best wishes to the Bride and Groom

Ped x

 

-----signature-----

As Landric finished the humble prayer and heads lifted, Threnn brought her eyes back up to meet Predian’s. A singular smile touched his lips as he gazed at her, and their fingers intertwined more closely. The sound of the river dancing merrily across the rocks, the trickle of water as it whisked past created a soft background of noise as the ceremony continued. The early morning sun was just warm enough without undo discomfort. The day was absolutely perfect.


Yet, as Landric began to speak once again, Threnn felt a chill tickle up and down the length of her spine. Her bared shoulders rippled with gooseflesh and her eyes darted nervously into the gathered assembly. All the faces there were smiling and friendly, yet at her uneasiness the knight Milric tensed a bit. His hand shifted slightly, coming to rest upon his ceremonial blade yet there was nothing outright visible that was causing her distress. She offered the paladin a weak smile, and her eyes came back to rest on Predian’s. He had noticed as well, and his hands clasped hers more reassuringly. “It’s alright love, its alright,” he mouthed silently.


A soft breeze shifted through the village, stirring the flowers where they were bound into the boughs of the trees, as Landric’s warm voice continued. “And so dear friends, let us listen to the words they have chosen to speak to one another this day. Predian, would you speak your vows to Thrennoadae?”


Predian gazed deeply into Thrennoadae’s eyes, and the world stilled. There was only his soft, warm voice as he spoke to her the words he’d so carefully crafted. In the crowd of onlookers, men and women held hands and drew closer listening to the words of love and devotion whisper from his lips. Thrennoadae felt a tear well up in the corner of her eye, and as she blinked it away, a soft whisper caught at her senses. She thought it someone in the crowd and tried to clear her thoughts and focus on Predian’s voice. She gave him a tender smile, yet that soft, sibilant whisper teased at her ears. Her crystal blue eyes darted away and sought the source of the sound, and she wondered inwardly if anyone else could hear it.


It was then she noticed a dark shape, not too far away but certainly not a part of the festivities. It rested against the trunk of a large maple tree, features obscured by the deep shadows. Her eyes narrowed and she focused on the shadow a bit more. A sudden clarity hit her as the breeze wafted through the leaves, and the shadows parted to reveal his face. It was Kaidric, and his lips were moving in perfect time with Predian’s as he recited the vows of love, of marriage. She froze, and in an instant Predian, Landric and Milric all realized something was wrong.


“Threnn, what is it?” Landric asked in a rush, brow creasing with worry.


She couldn’t answer, her eyes were frozen on Kaidric’s face. He’d ceased speaking when Predian did. Predian himself had moved forward, almost blocking the line of sight between the two, but hadn’t moved far enough. Milric’s gaze was along the crowd, searching again for whatever it was making her uneasy.


The moment hung in the air and she felt pushed under a thin sliver of ice. It was clear, she could see everything moving around her yet she could scream and no one could hear her. She was drowning and all around her seemed to close in tight. Her throat was thick and she suddenly was gasping for a ration of air that would not come. The clear blue of the river twinkled behind Predian… away from Kaidric… away from the crowd of friends and family.


With a blood-curdling scream, she clasped roughly at the fine silk of her gown and lunged away from her husband to be, away from her best friend and ran with all her strength down the river and disappeared from sight.

Those sudden attacks of Kaidriphobia can be so embarassing...


/bump