Twenty-fifth of Harvest

Davos shifted uncomfortably in the early afternoon air. He had never gotten accustomed to formal occasions, and the brightly coloured robes didn't help his mood at all. They were Mishtar's, found by Lithmae once he had been told what was required. He took a deep breath and looked to Sashai, standing beside him in the purple dress typical of the Prophetess' handmaidens.

"I've spent so much time in cities," she said in an effort to ease his tension. "Everything here is so...fresh."

There was no denying that. They stood in an open field a mile from where Ashelath had fallen. There was a new scent in the air, a sweetness that hadn't been there when Davos had first entered the Forest. Narandir itself had changed as a result of Belkai's revolution, though he had yet to pinpoint exactly what the difference was.

"Welcome to the real world," he finally replied, and shifted nervously. There were a select number of Narandir elves gathered around the edges of the clearing, and Loranna stood out amongst them, seeming just as uncomfortable as Davos without an axe by her side. He pictured her in real formal dress, and stifled a laugh at the thought. He kicked mindlessly at the pile of kindling before him, a critical part of the ceremony about to be undertaken.

"Davos?"

His head snapped back to Sashai, and he realised that he must have looked almost forlorn. "Yes, Priestess?"

She smiled at the formality. For all the respect given to her, she was young, and no amount of training could remove that fact. "Are you ready?"

Davos took a deep breath and nodded. "It is time, isn't it?"

Sashai's smile didn't change, and for a moment Davos wondered if it were real or simply put on for his own benefit. "From what I have seen, the woman is always late."

"So I'm told." Davos finally returned the smile. "But I think that today may be different."

It was a strange situation from Sashai's perspective. The Svaletan priestess would be conducting a traditional ceremony marking the marriage of Davos and this foreign woman – she had never been told where Belkai had come from – in the realm of the Narandir elves, who had been given an extremely hasty briefing on Svaletan customs. No doubt they thought the idea was ludicrous, but all understood the importance of the act. Not only was it the woman's profession of her love for Davos, but it was also a peace offering to the Kingdom that had long lived in fear of Narandir and all that it represented. Such things were not to be looked upon lightly.

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A horn blew within the trees, and the two Svaletans turned and went silent. The gathered audience quickly turned to look towards the south, eyes wide with anticipation – the elves for the unknown, Loranna for her friend's transformation. From the trees emerged four elven children, two boys and two girls, each carrying a branch that had been set aflame. They should have been candles, Sashai thought, but sometimes one had to improvise. There had been no time to teach the traditional Svaletan wedding chant, so Sashai did it herself, silently thanking the Prophetess for insisting on singing lessons for many of the younger inductees.

As the sun in her splendour

Breaks with rays of dawn

We see the night disappear

With a promise to the fallen.

Behind the children came six elves dressed for war, led by Lithmae, who hid his confusion behind a steely gaze. Their eyes were locked on Sashai as they marched, hands on the hilts of their swords as a declaration of their protection of their charge. Gone was the hostility that they had shown her only a few days ago.

None will be forgotten as the world embraces the light.

Following them was the central figure of the event, and Sashai was shocked by the transformation since she had last laid eyes on the bride. No longer was she the dirty, wary wanderer in a cave. Belkai, daughter of Androv, Lord of Narandir, was clothed in a traditional elven dress, a bright red that reminded Sashai of a hibiscus flower. The strapless fabric ran down her lithe body, stopping just below her knees. Her auburn hair was pulled back and hung loosely from where it was tied at the back. She walked slowly, her piercing green eyes locked on Davos. In her hands she held a simple but elegant bouquet.

Davos felt tears welling in his eyes, but did nothing to clear them away. She was as beautiful as he had ever seen her. Her smile was reserved for him alone, a love that he hadn't thought was possible only a matter of weeks ago.

There's always someone there to save the day

At the day's end it's just you and me

Like old times...

I'll be there no matter where

You and I are free.

The children stood behind Sashai, two on either side of the pile of kindling. The honour guard stopped before Sashai and lined up three to a side. Their backs rigid, they locked eyes with each other and didn't move a muscle as they waited.

I'll be there no matter where

You and I are free.

Sashai fell silent as Belkai reached the honour guard. Each man bowed his head as she glided by, and Sashai glanced over to see a tear slip from Davos' eye. He stepped forward and took Belkai's hands in his own.

"Marriage is a gift to all of us," Sashai began. "It is a promise of eternal loyalty, faithfulness, and sacrifice. It is a joy that none shall separate in this life or the next. As the moon reflects the sun, so you each will reflect the glory of the other."

She nodded, and the children handed their burning branches to Belkai and Davos. The two of them moved to the kindling.

"Hearts burning apart now unite as one."

They dropped the branches, and the fire quickly engulfed the wood. Taking his cue, Davos pulled Belkai close, and their lips met as they forgot about the audience.

Sashai waited until they had pulled apart, then announced,

"In the sight of Narandir and the Kingdom of Svaleta, you stand as husband and wife, with love forged in the rays of the sun."

Belkai leaned close to Davos and whispered,

"Now I'm home. Thanks to you."

He pulled her close, pressed his lips against her forehead, and closed his eyes. Yes, this was home. For both of them.