Chapter Twenty-Six: A Most Unorthodox Marriage

As I've mentioned, there are about twenty thousand pureblooded fae throughout the four realms - about one quarter of one percent of the population by most metrics. Several times that number are 'fae kin', possessing at least three fae grandparents (and recipient to some measure of fae title and inheritance privileges). I would be very surprised if half or a third of that number didn't turn out for the wedding and its satellite celebrations. Of course, not nearly that many fit into the chapel. There were only about five hundred people in the chapel, most of them fae nobility, including the four monarchs of the fae realms upon their golden thrones and a whole row of princes, princesses, dukes, and duchesses seated upon smaller (but still pretty impressive) silver thrones. The rest of the assembly sat either on ornate wooden chairs or on pews with golden trim and satiny padding at the back half of the chapel.

I gasped when I saw them all gathered there, more fae than I'd ever seen gathered in my life, at least twice the number in attendance at the height of the Vernal Court, and the palace chapel wasn't much bigger than Alathea's throne room. The ceiling was a soaring dome, twice the height of my own chapel-atrium back in Vernal, silvery and glassy white with pastel-colored stained glass in intricate patterns and flowers and vines, some of them real and some of them expertly-painted, running up the walls and along the archways. At the main altar, the High Priest and High Priestess of Gaia stood, a great silver baptismal font in front of them and the symbol of Gaia, the world circle in green jade and the 'x' of the four realms in shimmering opal, huge and looming behind them. At the duchess's direction, I approached the altar from one side. Meanwhile, Calivar's trio approached from the other. In fae weddings, the bride always had two 'bridesmaids' to carry the long and lacy train of her gown while the groom had two 'armsmen', who carried a ceremonial shield and sword… these were ornate, decorative things that would've been mostly useless in a real battle. The priest and priestess each held one of the wedding crowns that would anoint the married couple.

We stopped when we were perhaps seven feet from one another, at either side of the great baptismal pool. The priest and priestess each circled around the pool and behind Calivar and myself, standing at the very front of the dais in their forest-green robes decorated with ornate golden script, silvery swirls, and the symbol of Gaia painted upon their foreheads.

"We gather today to witness a union of the fae under the blessing of our great Mother Gaia, who girds the earth and nourishes all things. We gather today to witness a union of realms, between the Vernal and the Estival, which are themselves united with the Hibernal and the Autumnal. And, in this first day of the summer, it is right that the precedent and antecedent should be joined, for what is a solstice but a junction at the apex of the seasons, just as the equinox unites the seasons about their base," the priest announced.

"Who stand before you today are Calivar, Prince of the Estival and Laeanna, Princess of the Vernal. With each of them are two witnesses," the priestess announced. "Know that you stand before Gaia, who shall bear witness to the truth of your vouchsafe. Do you, the armsmen of Calivar, affirm that he is a good fae and true, that no reason in this world or in Elysheim beyond it should prevent his union with another?"

"Yes," both of Calivar's armsmen said - Artoro and the prince's head footman.

"And do you, the bridesmaids of Laeanna, affirm that she is a good fae and true, that no reason in this world or in Elysheim beyond it should prevent her union with another?"

"Yes," Dill and Meliswe said… though I though I detected the slightest waver in Meliswe's voice.

"And who in all the realms would object to this union? Who can speak of deceit or treachery that would debase this union, or of secrets untoward that would sully the purity of Gaia's Grace upon it? Speak now and be heard before Mother Gaia and all those present."

My heart skipped a beat. For a moment, I was terrified that somebody would speak up. That somebody would say that I wasn't the true Laeanna, that Larry Born had been married back on Earth, that I didn't love Calivar as much as I loved another. But all I could hear was the happy chirping of a bird who'd somehow made it up into the cavernous heights of the chapel dome. The silence endured and my worries faded.

"None have objected," the high priest stated, and he scribbled something down in the big book near his spot at the dais. "Very well. The bride and the groom shall each take a cup - simple cups, the cups of our people as we fled our homeland long ago and found a new home in Alfheim. Dip them in the water and feed to one another its sacred liquid. Then speak the oath: With this life's water, I bond to you for all my days."

I took the cup - it was a simple wooden thing. It had been sanded with care and coated with a thin sheen of varnish, but the poorest laborer in Vernal City probably had five cups finer than it. I dipped it in the water - it was warmer than I thought it would be - and carefully lifted it, being careful not to dribble too much. Calivar and I approached one another at the center of the dais and held the cups to one another's lips before speaking the oath:

"With this life's water, I bond to you for all my days," we said. My heart was thudding, something deep in my conscience telling me I was doing something wrong. But I wasn't about to flake out in front of five hundred VIPs. In for a penny, in for a pound… or whatever the equivalent in mithrins is. I swallowed the water… lukewarm and utterly without flavor. I worried that something horrible might happen to me, that it might turn to poison as Gaia frowned upon our union… but it went down just like any other water. And, truth be told, I had been a bit thirsty.

"Now pour the remaining water into the font that it may be consecrated," the high priestess said. "This water shall be distributed to the alchemists and apothecaries of the realm, so that its healing and purifying power may heal the sick and comfort the afflicted."

Calivar and I poured our water back, touching the cups together to form as close to a single stream as possible - this was supposed to symbolize the union. The priest took an ornate silver ladle, stirred the water for a bit, and poured a thimbleful into a little bowl made of carved fae crystals. He frowned and puzzled over the bowl for a moment.

"Er…" he said. "Gaia has not yet consecrated this union…" he said it as if he expected the answer to change at any moment.

There were gasps in the audience and frowns - and from that reaction, I knew this was unexpected. I wasn't sure whether there was anything beyond mundane magic to the effect, but the water was supposed to glow after the priest chanted a little spell. The priestess shuffled over and tried her hand at the same thing - stir the water, ladle it out, and pour it into the crystal bowl with a little magical flourish. No glowing.

"Does anybody here know why the Mother Gaia would withhold her consecration of this union?" the priestess announced.

"Um…" Meliswe said. Her voice sounded very small, and yet I imagine everybody in the place could have heard a pin drop. "Princess Laeanna and I might have already bonded in the ancient way. She gifted me with this bracelet, a living bracelet fed only by her blood, and with it she promised that she loved me and would never hurt me again."

"I see," the priestess said. "That is a proper bond, and with such a heartfelt gesture, Gaia would be sure to hear it and consecrate the bond, even outside of Her temple. I am sorry, my lords and ladies, but Laeanna cannot make a union to another when she's already united with this one. It is the way of Gaia."

Queen Alathea stood from her throne. I'm not sure what I expected… fury… deep disappointment… shock and grief? I got none of those. Her brow furrowed, but it was the kind of expression she made when she'd already made up her mind but wanted you to think she was deep in thought. "Pardon me, high priest and priestess, but to engage in a holy union by Gaia's writ and for a royal union by fae law, all that is required is that the subjects make a heartfelt and lifelong oath for Gaia and that they be fae or fae-kin and nobility for the latter. Am I incorrect in thinking this?"

"Your majesty," the priest said. "I'm sure you're a greater expert in fae law than I am… but, yes, that is my understanding. As far as Gaia is concerned, it is the heartfelt and lifelong oath that is important."

"Lady Meliswe is fae-kin and has standing in my court, so the course of action is clear: Calivar must wed both Laeanna and Meliswe."

"My queen," the priestess said, "that is… unorthodox."

Alathea nodded. "And if it is too unorthodox, then Gaia will not recognize the union. And if she does recognize it, who are we to complain? Who here would object to Prince Calivar marrying Princess Laeanna and her wife, apparently, Lady Meliswe?"

"It's worth a shot," Calivar stated. I could already see his lustrous eyes brimming with the possibilities of a triple marriage.

"I concur," King Fostolas said.

Alathea turned to King Alvaelic and Queen Presimiwe, the other two monarchs of the fae realms. "Your majesties, what say you?"

"I would accept this union," Alvaelic said. Presimiwe nodded her assent.

The priest scratched his head, slightly smudging the painting of Gaia's symbol on his forehead. "Very well… prince… princess… lady… the two of you will have to give the prince water and he'll have to give it to the two of you."

It was… awkward. We said the oath easily enough. Then Meliswe and I had to angle our cups so they both dribbled into Calivar's mouth and the two of us had to just about kiss so our mouths were close enough to both drink from his cup, but we managed it after about fifteen seconds of dribbling holy water all over the fine green rug of the chapel. Pouring all three back in as a single stream was also a little tricky, but we managed it. The priest once again stirred the water and ladled a bit out, pouring it into the crystal bowl. In an instant, the water ignited with a bright flash that blew the bowl into little shards, sending some of the bits skittering most of the way to the monarchs.

"I'd call that a very emphatic 'yes'," the priest said. "Let none who have witnessed this say that Gaia has not consecrated this union… and ruined an antique blessing-bowl in the process." He mumbled that last bit. "I hereby pronounce you husband and wives! Erm… the two ladies will have to share the bridal crown."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

King Alvaelic stood from his throne and clapped his hands. "Excellent! Come, friends, let us feast! And… do watch your feet. Some of those shards look very sharp."

+++++

I've got to assume that Queen Alathea knew about Meliswe and me the whole time - why else would she have called her Lady Meliswe in front of everybody earlier? Why else would she have had this suggestion at the ready. I consider myself to be one smart cookie… so much so that sometimes I get a bit full of myself. Well, Alathea was every bit as smart as her daughter, and maybe smarter. And she was five hundred years old to boot, half of that time as queen. Not a whole lot got past her - just how little, I was only beginning to appreciate. At the beginning of the day, I couldn't have predicted this outcome at all, but I couldn't have been happier about it. Thanks, mom!

We had a huge feast that occupied the whole Upper Courts district. There were maybe six hundred guests at the royal reception, but they'd brought in tables and caterers from all over the city for the celebration and there had to be ten thousand people in attendance. Between the two of them, Queen Alathea and King Alvaelic appropriated three hundred thousand mithrins, an enormous sum, and distributed the money to various establishments throughout the city to hold free celebrations. Everybody in the city had the chance to feast and drink to their heart's content on the king's dime. It's a good enough way to keep the people happy and favorably-disposed to the new princess in town, I suppose.

"You and Calivar will remain in Estival until next spring, at which point I'll expect to see you in the Vernal Court," Alathea said.

And, I realized with a start, she was crying. I hadn't seen her cry like that since the day I revealed to her that the original Laeanna had flown to Elysheim and wouldn't be back in this lifetime. And I thought I realized why: across eighty-two years, this would be the longest Alathea and her daughter (currently, yours truly) had ever been apart. Even though I now essentially accepted Alathea as my Alfheim mother every bit as much as my maw was my Earth mother, I never expected that she might feel the same way about me. We were having a mother-daughter Moment in the middle of throngs of celebrating people. I hugged her and pulled her around enough that nobody else could see that she was crying… though now everybody could see that I was crying. It was more befitting a princess than it was a queen.

"I'll have all of your needlepoints and sketches and plant sculptures sent to you," Alathea sniffled.

"No," I sniffled back. "Leave them be. Have somebody water my plants, though… I want everything to be exactly the same when I come back."

"That can be arranged." Then she kissed my cheek and looked me in the eye, and for the first time ever, I didn't feel like she was searching for somebody who just wasn't there. Then, with some bit of fae magic that I have yet to learn, she made her tears suck right back into her body and was smiling and beautiful and proposing another toast to the newlyweds.

Afterward, as we blew past the midnight hour (the wedding had been at sundown, after all) and into the wee hours, fast approaching summer's early dawn, Calivar, Meliswe, and I all retreated to the ornate and airy bedroom of my new chambers. It had been decided that this would be a better nuptial bed because Calivar had already broken his in many times over and it seemed a bit improper to have our first night as a trio there.

I am told the servants left a path of rose petals to my bed, but I never got to see them because they'd also brought in our zephrylites and set the grimkey skulls atop the mantelpiece. Our zephrylites were increasingly well-trained and had swept the clutter of petals into a nice little pile at the foot of the bed. I like to think they left it there as some sort of meaningful gesture but, honestly, zephrylites don't have a whole lot going on upstairs. The servants had also drawn a hot, lavender-scented bath - somebody had spilled the beans about that being my favorite smell - and the three of us blew right past it. I'd like to say we had a night/early morning of blistering passion, but we were all a bit drunk and it had been a long and trying day. We positioned ourselves on the bed and tried a little experimental kissing and groping… and it was very nice. But I was very tired and I dozed off still clad in my panties, curling under the silken sheets with a happy little sigh.

When I awoke, it was to Calivar shifting on the bed and tryin not to wake us. Meliswe was snortleting in my ear, as was her habit, and I felt utterly content with the silky sheets covering my legs from the knees down and nowhere else. I propped myself up as slowly as I could and managed not to wake Meliswe. Calivar padded back over to the bed, holding a basin in one hand and pushing a straight-razor across his face with the other.

"You're like an angel when you sleep," he said.

"I'm not asleep."

"Me, either," Meliswe insisted and resumed her snortlets.

"I was awake for fifteen minutes before I dared get out of bed. Two beautiful angels with their little snores on the bed… I dared not disturb you."

"I don't snore," I said.

Calivar shook his head and mimicked Meliswe's snortlets. "I think you're snore twins." He glanced between Meliswe's chest and mine. "Though certainly not twins elsewhere. I have yet to decide which I prefer more… perhaps I'll never have to decide."

Meliswe groaned awake and rubbed her eyes. "You'd better never decide out loud. Or you'll be in the hound house for a very long time."

"Doghouse," I said - English and German idioms don't always carry over perfectly to Faeric.

Meliswe giggled. "A house for dogs." There are also some thing from Earth that nobody's ever bothered to invent in Alfheim, either.

Calivar stretched himself and looked down at the two of us. For the first time, I realized that he was completely nude… and that he was quite physically gifted… and obviously thought we were easy on the eyes. I'll admit that I felt an odd rush of feelings about that, the part of me that was still Larry Born stating point blank that he'd never been attracted to another man in his life, and Princess Laeanna insisting, quite persuasively, that she was most definitely not a man and most definitely appreciated what Calivar brought to the table. A coy grin spread across my face and I leaned in to kiss Meliswe, sliding my mostly-naked body against hers and planting kisses down her neck on my way to the world-class marvels that were her breasts. I looked back and gave my derriere a shake.

"It's okay if you just want to watch," I said.

Calivar did not want to watch. He disrobed my bottom, slowly and gently at first, as if he was afraid he'd spook me by being too forward, and then I felt him pressing at my entrance, sliding into me with a gentle insistence. Then he started in and out in long, even strokes and gradually sped while I tended to Meliswe… to my wife, just as legally as Calivar was now my husband. I'll tell you, they won't let you do that in Nebraska. I tried to be a mindful wife to her, but I imagine I got a bit carried away at some point - having living flesh thrusting into you is an entirely different experience from two women pleasuring one another and, though I actually prefer the latter, there was something especially primal and enjoyable about my first time.

The real enjoyment that I got, a pleasurable thrill that would last long after that first night, was the realization that I played different roles when it came to pleasuring Calivar and Meliswe. Between Meliswe and myself, we were equal partners in pleasure and, if one of us was the more meek or dominant partner, that role could just as easily be switched in our next encounter or even mid-coitus. Between Calivar and myself, though, any thought of being the dominant partner between the sheets was dashed from my mind. Sure, there was a little niggling part of me that insisted this shouldn't be the case, but even that little part had to admit: it felt amazing when Calivar lifted me and positioned me, the mad need burning in his lustrous eyes, when I drove him so mad with desire that he had to release his pleasure upon me and see me writhing and moaning in my own throes of passion. At first, my fighting instincts kept almost kicking in to have me escape or counter the prince's aggression, and sensing me do that seemed to stoke his libido even further. Though, fortunately, he wasn't quite a mindless beast. When he pressed Meliswe too firmly against me, we both yelped and he spent two minutes apologizing.

"When you need to apologize, we'll tell you," I said.

A grin crept up his face and, as always, he managed to keep his manhood in excellent spirits. "Could it be," he mused, "that you like it a little rough?"

"Mayb-aiie!" I shrieked, and he tossed me down and pressed my legs up and out, diving between them and pleasuring me with his tongue, and he was strong enough that I was completely helpless to resist him force-against-force (though I knew plenty of combat tricks that didn't require that by now).

He flipped me to where I was kneeling atop his face and then motioned for Meliswe to straddle him, and suddenly we were kissing and groping atop him just like we sometimes did with our double-saddle. I was pleased to find that adding a third person to our mix - and a man! - didn't subtract an iota from my enjoyment and, in fact, had an awful lot to recommend over our usual bedroom antics. And, from Meliswe's little mewling pants, I could tell she thought so, too.

+++++

All in all, I learned a lot about myself and about sex that day… and we did go at it all day long. Among the things I learned was that fae men have a much shorter refractory period than human men (though they also tend to finish up more quickly, if you catch my meaning) and that a prince has easy access to alchemical potions that can keep him busy and energized in bed for hours on end. I wondered what similar wonders existed for women - a topic to research at my earliest convenience. The sun had set hours ago when we finally decided to give my poor bed a rest and that we were all in desperate need of a bath. Calivar drained the lilac-scented water from the night before and drew us a fresh and steaming tub… though, honestly, it would have been easier to just magically warm the water. I guess I knew some tricks that he didn't.

"I think this arrangement will work nicely," he mused, easing in between us. "Even if I cannot be the favorite, I think second place is not so bad among elite competition."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to pretend I don't feel how I feel, but we're married now. All of us are married now, aren't we? There can be no favorites. Even if we have a favorite in our heart, which we all surely have, let's not speak of it. Our feelings may shift over the centuries, and if this is supposed to be a bond that solidifies kingdoms, then let's not talk about favorites, true loves, or second-bests."

"Our wife is as wise as she is beautiful," Meliswe stated. She ran her foot along my thigh and I groaned in contentment.

Calivar nodded. "So I see. That's very wise, indeed. And I want you to know, Meliswe, that I'll never think less of you for being one-eighth human. I was once human… I regard them highly among the lesser races…"

"Whoa. Now hold on," I said, no longer feeling quite so relaxed or content. "Lesser races? Humans aren't a lesser race."

Calivar glanced to Meliswe who didn't give him much reassurance. "I assure you, I'm not a racist. But you have to admit there's a natural order - we fae, who live forever and wield incredible magics… then human, sylvast, and faun, and so on. That's not to say the others have no merit or are mere animals, just that there's a reason that fae sit atop the order."

I sighed - Calivar didn't strike me as a bad person and probably wasn't racist at all by German standards (which, let's face it, might actually be better than American standards). "What if the order is artificial and not natural? What if we just value fae traits because we're in a fae kingdom? And what if, instead of valuing immortality and magical brilliance, I valued endurance and strength… or an aptitude for machines and devices… or the ability to have large families? Then I'd conclude that humans belonged on top of this 'natural' order. Or if I valued toughness, strategic thinking, and skill with animals? Or harmony with nature and self-reliance? Then it would be fauns or sylvast. Perhaps it's like having favorites in a family - you can't help if you've got a favorite in your heart of hearts, I suppose, but that's just the language of the heart. You have to realize that it's just a preference and if things were just a little different, your preference might change a whole lot. So maybe I should just enjoy being a princess, you, Calivar a prince, and Meliswe a lady-consort, and we'll only consider how fae somebody is or isn't when ancient tradition requires it."

Calivar nodded, and if he was angry or put off, he didn't indicate it at all. Instead, he stretched out his strong arms and brought Meliswe and me closer to himself, giving each of us a little kiss on the forehead. "I've never been too fond of ancient tradition, either. I was born the son of a cabinet-maker and a seamstress… I was born one-eighth Jew and told I should hate that corner of my heritage. Others are born the children of addlebrained paupers or of dukes and kings. There is no justice in that, nor in the fact that I was cast into the body of a prince and you, Laeanna, a princess. Perhaps we would all be better people if we slept each night not knowing who we might wake up as."

Meliswe sighed. "I signed on to marry a prince and a princess, not two philosophers."

"Worry not, Lady Meliswe," Calivar chuckled. "I will also philosophize upon your delectable delights as often as you like."