Thedor 6, 229: A Different Kind of Kidnapping, Part III: The Wedding

A Different Kind of Kidnapping, Part III: The Wedding
Summary: The Greenshire tradition of kidnapping the bride.
OOC Date: 10/01/2014 (OOC)
Related: A Different Kind of Kidnapping, Part I A Different Kind of Kidnapping, Part II
Moira Shepard Rinder Aldren Rorey Brendolyn Eoin Caedmon Wenna 
Caedmon's Tower/Keep in Albion
A large stone tower that only looks ancient on the outside due to the weather -n the inside, you'll find a fine, cozy dwelling, far less prone to drafts than the old castle
Theodor 6, early morning

The tower that has been home for this short while boasts a large banquet hall. Not an incredibly elaborate one like the castle but well furnished and classy to say the least. The lord has the room done up in green and white on one side and blue and red on the other. A banner of each noble house hangs along the walls and at the head of the room purple and silver fly. A testament to the baron no doubt. Tables and chairs are lined against the walls and a clear path to the dais is highlighted with a flush red carpet. Many small time nobles and such fill the seats and at the end of the room atop the raised area stands a priest and priestess. Yes, two. Obviously not Darfield natives. Whispers have it that one is of Cri, the other, unknown. Still, they are here and smiles fill their faces as they await the noble pair.

The Count for his part is dressed well, quite well. Bright green tunic with white trimmings accent the off white pants he wears and for some reason they even seem to blend in with the dark red boots he wears. He sports a wide smile the one of a child on their name day when they know what they will receive. He will flash a look to each of his kin and the others he knows and one to Moira as well if he can see her yet…A few nods are given and received and even Harlik his guard and Kayla, Moira's handmaiden smile proudly as they stand near the back.

With true authority one of the priests speaks up now. "Good Mobrinites. We have gathered today to witness and bless the union of two great houses. Let love and prosperity reign supreme in their lives and spill over to each of those they hold dear." A resounding applause goes up briefly and the room quiets. Seemingly it is time for the ceremony to get under way. It can be assumed that it is in the Granarian way, while all the usual customs that are common are being observed, so to are the specific ones to the county. Namely the fact that it need not be held in the temple only that a priest or priestess perform it. And with the /fight/ the outdoor part that is so important has been achieved as well. No doubts the festive portion is ready to be undertaken as well as rumors of a full musical ensemble are circulating widely. Nope, no need for Darfield or its current bs for these backwater folks to get theirs in!

As Aldren moves to take up his position near the Priests, the rest of the procession falls into place. The folk of Greenshire may be looking forward to the party, but there's still ceremony to be had! Lord Rinder leads the way, already misty-eyed as he approaches with Moira on his arm. When he reaches the proper spot, he gives her a kiss on both cheeks, and she curtseys to him before moving to stand beside Aldren, giving him a curtsey as well while Rinder steps over and takes a position a short distance to Moira's side. Caedmon and Wenna follow after, pausing before Moira and Aldren to render their own courtesies before stepping over to position themselves alongside Aldren…the "groom's side" as it were. Shepard and Rorey follow after, repeating the gesture first towards Moira and Aldren, and then towards each other before they separate and move to their respective positions, and Drogan and Brendolyn are the last pair, repeating the process one more time, finally moving all the immediate family into their proper places.

Shepard catches Moira's eye for a half-moment and gives her a wink. Which earns him an elbow in the ribs from Rinder, though it's delivered with a rumble of muffled laughter.

Moira gets misty eyed during the process. Most marriages are yes, are arranged or arranged without much thought or care that the couple 'get along' and not necessarily even that, just that the husband deems her acceptable. Not often enough, is it a marriage where two people both truly care for one another, so much so that even through time and distance, battlefields and failed betrothals, they were allowed to come together. A merry twinkle faint in her eyes, standing with unshed tears, and slight wink towards Shepard, a loving look towards Drogan then another towards her Father who will now not be her protector and guide giving her unto the care of another. Then blissful eyes turn back towards Aldren, the faintest of shaking in her bearing.

This time belongs to the count and his lady, and for that reason, they hold the center of attention. While the priest and priestess stand at the front of the room, waiting patiently to begin the rituals, Caedmon and Wenna stand together near the front for a good view, but in an inconspicuous place so that they are not obscuring the view for others. She is wearing a gown of pink silk that is the height of fashion. The fabric is of a fine weave and richly dyed. Ornamentation in the form of embroidery, which has been done along the square neckline of the gown, depicts a knot-work of intertwining flowering vines. In the center of each of the flowers is a freshwater pearl. The sleeves of the gown fit closely, with seven pearl buttons that decorate the sleeve along the forearm. He wears fine clothes that reflect the colors of his barony - fine wool breeches of a gray that is almost black, a light blue silk shirt that billows loosely over his chest and arms, well shined leather boots and a belt with a short sword, and a cloak of a darker sea blue edged with silver embroidery that alternates between leaping fish and seagulls in flight. He waits silently for the priests to call for the beginning of the ceremony. When they do, a warm smile spreads over his face. He nudges Wenna and he leans to murmur to her, "And so it begins."

Nervousness makes Rorey a little fidgety - but it's the good kind of nerves, like when a tournament is about to begin. And today certainly is a new beginning for her brother and Moira; in each other they've found *love*! Rorey looks wistful for a moment, a smile dancing at the corners of her mouth. And Moira — good heavens, she looks absolutely resplendent… it almost makes Rorey decide right then and there to sew her wedding dress - almost! And she just might be badgered into doing so, if a whole gaggle of women did the bulk of the work… But Rorey snaps right back to 'the here and now' once the priest and priestess give the signal of the actual wedding-part starting.

A light kiss is placed upon Caedmon's cheek and she moves to wipe a tea away. "It is about time, I have been waiting for this marriage for years." She confides to him in a soft and whispery voice. Her green eyes are bright. Another kiss is placed on his cheek. She looks over Rorey where she fidgets and she offers her a smile and motions for her to come and stand with them. She leans some of her weight against Caedmon as they stand there.

Lady Winifred has been sent in the Queens stead, having arrived just this morning, a ride in which set her poor bones to aching. Carriage rides are not what they used to be in any measure of the word, the poor older, but quite winsome, dame feeling it now as she watches from her seat, butt bones aching like no other. She is dressed in a lovely high necked dress of deep grey with silver embroidery that dotes upon the sleeves, chest and neck of the dress, the sleeves going to her wrists where they loosely hug, her hair done up in a simple braided bun, no elaborate jewels of anything finding their way into her blondish white hair. Weddings always get the woman and she's sniffling into a delicate handkerchief, eyes welled up with tears which have also spilled onto her cheeks, a happy smile on her lips. And especially from /her/ home? Oh, oh. Greenshire pride, utterly, Greenshire pride. A few sobbing laughs, and she will lean over to her escort to murmur something, the man listening with a smile. Oh, her own wedding day. So long ago.

With the bride effectively given away and folks tearing up it would seem that it is time to seal the deal. Aldren beams as he shares an arm with the Rose. He says nothing of course, he simply allows the priest to go on with the ceremonial sayings and smiles. The feeling is infectious now as the folks who gaze upon the happenings seem to shift into unrelenting joy. The enlightened one's voice thunders through the room with authority and joy. The other behind him nods along as the vows are presented and accepted. The air in the room grows warmer and ecstasy reigns supreme. Aldren for his part recites his own list of promises of love, obedience, honor, truth, all the good stuff that comes when you tell someone you love how you plan to keep them happy every day. The Count himself tears up at the words. A smile does easily overpower any /softer/ feelings he freely shows and he awaits the womans own. Her last chance! Well, not really in this theme but hey. Still, for all his misgivings the look in his eye surely shows he only awaits the kiss.

Moira, for her part, speaks in her usual quiet manner: of love, honor, fidelity, obedience, cleaving unto one man, until death, etc. etc. "Your home is my home, my home is wherever you are, until the mountains fall, and the stars cease to shine." Were They supposed to add their own words onto the end of what the priests intone to them? Perhaps not, but she can be excused - it is her day and Aldrens after all.

Fortunately, the Bride's side of the equation doesn't at all look like they're ready to storm over and cart Moira off again. Standing between Rinder and Drogan, Shepard spreads his arms and clasps the shoulders of his father and brother, smiling brightly as the ceremony proceeds apace. Rinder actually sniffles a bit, but of course no tears actually fall, though they very much threaten to. Much like his elder brother, Drogan just watches in good cheer, even if his smile is perhaps a bit more wry than Shepard's at some of the words being spoken.

"I haven't known either of them as long as you have," Caedmon murmurs to Wenna while they follow the ceremony. "Still, to me this has the feeling of a lifelong quest coming to its fulfillment. I do remember that day some 13 years ago when they met in Stormvale, on that snowy, cold day." He chuckles. "I'm proud that they chose to wed here. They bring a great honor to my barony."

"I remember that day, among others." Wenna brushes away tears that are sliding down her cheeks. She leans a little more of her weight against him. "Cold and snowy and there was a fight. She looks beautiful in that gown and stately. Aldren and his boots," She chuckles softly. As she continues to wipe away more tears.

Glancing around, Rorey sees that there's nary a dry eye in the place. And just so! She's been using her handkerchief, of course, and it even matches her Haravean-green dress rather nicely. It seems one of the Haravean sisters can't decide whether to laugh or cry, and she just makes do with smiling as wide as she ever remembers smiling, watching the wedding of her brother - and now sister! - unfold.

Laetitia continues to sniffle, speaking to her companion quietly as tears stream.

Caedmon shifts to slip an arm around Wenna's waist to support her while she leans her weight against him. Let the gossips have their field day if they must. "I can't imagine Aldren /not/ wearing his beloved boots on such an important occasion as this. I'm simply thankful that Cricket hasn't managed to destroy them. We would have a dog for a ward, in addition to Gwyneth, if that happened." He glances around the room and smiles at the proud members of the Kerrigan clan, and then to the other Haraveans. Then, like his wife, he returns his attention to watching the ceremony. "Grand!" he murmurs.

Wenna whispers loudly into his ear. With his arm around her waist she moves to settle against him in a familiar and comfortable fashion. She casts a look over at Rorey and mouths something to her and she catches sight of Winnie. A welcoming smile is offered to the Lady. Then her attention is drawn back to the wedding.
Wenna mutters to Caedmon, "We… but… short… polished with…"
A far off braying "Arooo, aroooo, aroooo…." is heard in the background and a few of the guests turn to look in the direction of the sound before,looking to one another and dismissing it. Most likely one of Caedmon's shareholder's out on a morning with one of his sheepdogs, surely that must be all. But then, the almost braying sound gets louder and closer, yet still a small distance away. Yes, must definitely be a farmer out with his sheepdogs.

Caedmon grins at Wenna's enlightenment. "I've heard that some dogs have a wonderful ability to focus, but that they usually focus on something that their masters would prefer for them to forget, like squirrels, cats, or horses. He is a good dog. I suspect that his training should have started earlier. Still, to me, he always will be a good dog and a fine four-legged friend."

Turning her head, Wenna buries her head against Caedmon to stifle a very loud laugh. The sound of a dog does not help matters. She keeps her head against him and murmurs. "By Light and the Sheats red hair," She remains in that position until she is controlled again.

Winifred is in the midst of a good cry when the braying starts, her head turning as she looks over shoulder in her seat, some clear annoyance on her face. And then like a moment of clarity her hand will come up, handkerchief pressed against her cheek, "That beloved dog, every single time …" Yes, she's familiar with the pup, hard not to be after all her years of experience with all the families, and Lae's own dogs. A thin pensive line will dote upon her lips, "Well, did no one think to feed the beast before this lovely event??" Asks her very appropriately toned voice, which is tickled, just a blush, with amusement. She must remain a proper Lady, after all.

Drogan's eyes widen, and he looks to Shepard, "I gave the dog the better part of a side of beef. There's no possible -way- it could still be hungry!" That doesn't stop a few servants and guards from rushing to see about at least restraining the fearsome beast until the ceremony is properly concluded.

The priest begins to intone the final blessing upon Aldren and Moira, with all the appropriate blessing pronouncing that Moira and Aldren were '….irrevocably, unalterably and definitively man and wife..invoking up on them the blessings of the Gods in a nice little concluding speech, giving Aldren permission to kiss his bride.

One of the guardsmen, thinking to be responsible, goes to the door the investigate the braying sound, starting to open it to the gasps of some fe who now what is about to happen while Aldren and Moira remain blissfully unaware as they begin to lean into the first kiss, but most certainly not the last.

Just as the guard opens the door, and Aldren and Moira's lips begin to touch: that first sweet kiss that' s been ten years plus in the making, "Aroooo…..Aroooo….Arooooo…" as Cricket gallumphs into the hall, going here….going there..following the tracks and the smells he's been tracking all night. They were over here, then..they were over there, then outside and then…"Arooo arooo arooo!!" he starts bounding towards the duo at the front of the room. As Moira and Aldren glance in that direction, only briefly Moira says, in her usual quiet voice. "If you will my lord, " turning to look at Cricket to say only one thing in a calm and peaceful voice: Sit! and…he sits, looking at the two of them, tail wagging while Moira turns back to Aldren, "Where were we my lord?" before the two again start that first kiss….

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