It was the morning before they were to be wed, and the couple set out to hunt and visit the Eye of the Lady. When they told everyone of their plans, they agreed happily so the family and friends could see to the final preparations. Typically, Knotting Ceremonies were not such a commotion, but this was the Thane's and the prophetic Phoenix's wedding - that made it a big affair. For the Avvar, the family worked together to make the day out to be as opulent or simplistic as they liked. Having only Owayne representing the Trevelyans, the Rutherfords bore the brunt of the work. First marriages were often made special as another life milestone reached, while second marriages and on were less so. Despite this being Cullen's third, even if she wasn't some savior, it would've been an event celebrated by the clan.
One night, she had quietly asked Rosalie what would've happened if Cullen's former wives were still living. With a knowing smile as to why she asked the question in the privacy of their room, she answered that they would've moved from Redhold. To not have competition for their power and authority, stripped of their title or not, both wives would've had to leave and make their home elsewhere. That rule only applied to the spouse of the Thane, however, as she remarked that Rylen's wife of three years still lived within the hold. The odd feeling of dread settled in her stomach thinking about that after this stint with Cullen that she'd be cut loose to find a new home if he didn't want her or she fulfilled the prophecy. With no reason to be bound to her, he'd owe her nothing; free again to rule alone without her to bother him. Maybe she could live like the fabled Flemeth, a witch of the wilds, wandering from hold to hold to trade.
As Evelyn dressed early that morning, she heard a knock on her door, followed by the voice of the Thane, "Don't bother freshening up or putting any effort into your appearance, it'll just be a waste, trust me."
Evelyn's arms dropped to her sides having just finished braiding her hair. "Open the door, Cullen," she replied flatly still waking up. She was sitting on the bed with her back to him. Looking over her shoulder, having dressed in comfortable pants and shirt, she stood upon seeing his face poke in, "Is this acceptable?"
He threw some clothing in at her, "Fine, just pack this to change into. Ros altered her hunting pants for you."
She held up the sloppily patched-up mishmash of pets, fur, and other scraps of material. "What the... I won't ask, but was there a top to this?"
"No," her head snapped up in a frown, "I'll explain when we get to the mud pit."
"Mud pit?"
He huffed, "Let's go, Trevelyan, before first light."
Stuffing the poor excuse for pants into her bag that held the bird seed and another letter for her father, she donned her cloak and met Cullen out in the main room. Having already packed food, they left immediately. As they approached they entry gate, there waiting for them was Kitsa.
"Kitsa?" The Thane questioned, "Something the matter?"
Tell him no, I mean to shadow you in case that wolf comes back, she said telepathically to Evelyn, to which she relayed the message word for word.
"I see, thank you Kitsa. We'll try to take down something large for you as thanks." The lioness bobbed her head and then scampered off into the brush.
A short distance away they came to what could only be the Mud Pit. It was centrally located within a well-curated clearing. The tranquility of the secluded spot was unmatched by anything she had seen. As the sun rose just above the horizon, it bathed the budding trees in its yellow glare. The screen dividing the grove with its faded and worn cloth giving privacy to those using the warmed clay from those preparing for the hunt on the opposite side. A simple wooden table with stumps was fashioned into a small seating area and racks for hanging clothing and gear were nailed into trunks all about. Evelyn envisioned a full leafy canopy above her in a few months which would only add to the ambiance. Back in the Lowlands, nobility would pay large sums of coin to bathe in a natural mud spa such as this.
"This is beautiful," she could hardly keep her jaw from dropping. The baby blooms of spring added spots of color to the rich green grass. In another hour or so the buds would open to display their full magnificence in the sunlight.
"As glad as I am to hear you think so, this place has a purpose," he pointed to the swirling red, gray, and brown clay. "All those times you've seen our hunters wearing the clay camouflage, this is where it comes from. The soil in this area is iron rich giving it the red color while the browns and gray are just different colored sentiments that get churned up. A few ages ago, this was a hot spring, but eventually, the clay of the earth muddled the water making it perfect for camouflaging."
"So, you mean the swirled designs are naturally done just by dipping yourselves in there? That's amazing."
"Yes, and the mud hides our scent from the animals."
"And it is great for your skin," that fact alone made her want to jump in and spend the next hour in the warm earthy soup.
Cullen rolled his eyes, shedding his shirt, socks then pants in that order, keeping on a pair of briefs. Eyeing his healing cuts, she couldn't help thinking some licentious thoughts. Squatting then stepping in, he walked about in it before turning back around to her, "Take everything off but your bottom smalls." After his instructions, he turned his back to give her privacy.
As she undressed, she couldn't help but ask, "When you go hunting, do men and women take a dip in there together?"
She watched as his head turned slightly to the side to answer, "Not typically, unless they are a couple, as we are. Otherwise, we go in separately, that's why there is a screen." She couldn't help but bite her lip and chuckle. He turned at the noise, and she squeaked out his name in surprise trying to cover her bare breasts. After a quick apology, she joined him, slipping in up to her shoulders. He turned back around slowly this time, quirking up an eyebrow at her as she continued to giggle while pulling her hair up into a high bun, "Oh, is this about another one of those ridiculous Lowlander books you read?"
She nodded, almost laughing so hard it was difficult to speak, "You mean you don't have an orgy and paint yourselves in sacrificial blood before you hunt?"
He slapped a clean palm to his face, "You can't be serious? Lady preserve me, that's what Lowlanders think of us?"
"Well, maybe the Orlesians, they like to think everyone is just as base and carinal as them, but I believe the majority of Thedas doesn't believe that."
"I suppose we are more isolated than other cultures, but that does not mean we are heathens," he stared at her accusatorily.
Evelyn scoffed, "Why are you looking at me like that? I didn't write those smutty romance novels! I may be guilty of reading them, but not of writing them. Besides, I'm one of you now, why would I--" Her words were cut off by a terrifying scream. Having taken a few steps in towards the center, her foot landed on something large and hairy deep in the mud. Frantically paddling and grappling onto Cullen, she jumped into his arms still kicking and squealing.
"What?! What is it?!" He had not a clue as to why she was acting like a prissy noblewoman all of a sudden.
"There-- there's something-- it was hairy and I stepped on it!" The last part squeaked out in a high-pitched note, still partially screaming. "Is it a dead animal?!"
"Evelyn," he grumbled as he fought off her clawing limbs, "animals stay clear of the pit for that reason. They are smarter than you think." He sat her on the ground giving her a stern look to stay put. Turning and dipping lower feeling around for it, he added, "I think I know what it is... aha!" With a good pull, he held up a furry matted mess. Partly combat rolling back further, the Phoenix conjured a fireball in her hand, looking ready to attack. At the sight of her, Cullen busted out laughing, walking toward her with the thing in hand. Her face contorted with fear before he plopped it a few feet from her in a muddy mess. He continued to laugh, despite not giving her any explanation as to what she stepped on. Dispelling her magic, she crawled back over placing her feet back into the warm earthy paste.
"Are you going to enlighten me on what that is?" His bright smile and hearty laughter lifted away her annoyance at having done something apparently incredibly silly. That didn't stop her from throwing some mud at him.
The Thane moved back over to it, "Wait until Bran hears you found his pocket, he be quite pleased and even more thrilled when I tell him how." He held in his unbridled laughter, substituting it with a control chuckle.
"Hakkon's balls, I thought it was a dead animal! Stop laughing at me!" She couldn't keep a straight face and ended up giggling along too at her uncharacteristic fright.
"That, Trevelyan, you will never live down until the end of your days."
Using that as a segue, she decided there was never a better time to broach the topic, "Oh, and you'll be around for that? Well, maybe you will be with how many times recently I've cheated death. Someone is bound to get lucky one of these days."
Gauging his reaction carefully, she watched as his mood turned thoughtful, "I think after yesterday, Hakkon himself would appear to shield you." Easing herself back into the mud beside him as his voice softened, "And no I don't think I'd be there."
She frowned, leaning back somewhat to see his face, "Why not?"
"Because if that happened it would mean they had killed me first to get to you." His eyes met hers intensely, and her lips parted in shock.
"Don't say that," her voice was a whisper.
It was his turn to ask 'why not,' but she couldn't bring herself to answer him. As the silence stretched on, he leaned back beside her, "You said you were looking forward to our marriage. Why?"
She let go of a large exhale shaking her head, "Wow, you are really asking the tough questions this morning aren't you?" He held his composure crossing his arms to look at her. "You know why."
"Do I?" His head tilted slightly not believing her, "Because I make you feel safe, yes, you've said that now a few times, but I'm wondering if that's your easy answer obscuring the truth."
She huffed, "It is the truth." They both knew it wasn't and by the feel of her facial muscles, she was not acting very convincing.
"Fine, don't tell me then," there was frustration in his voice. He dipped in up to his chin before making his way to the ledge. Lifting himself out, he went over to the tree where his hunting pants and boots were hanging.
Following his lead, sinking in and being mindful of her hair, she spun and exited the pit. As the clay met the air, it began to harden into a shell around her upper body. Her movements helped the camouflage form like small plates on her, and she was careful not to accidentally brush any of it off. Going for her gear, she glared at him, "Why is it so important I tell you? What will it change? Our path has been set by the gods."
"It would change a great many things!" He tugged aggressively at his pants ties, "You truly do not see it do you?"
Fumbling with her pants as mud dripped down them, she thought for a moment. She couldn't help but feel the same level of frustration rising in her again as it had on Wintersend. By the look of him, he was feeling the same with his scowl and thundering temper. Evelyn knew what he wanted her to admit, but as to why it was proving to be so difficult just to blurt out was beyond her. She blamed her stubbornness and his, for if he was going to admit the same why hadn't he said it? Was it because he was scared she'd be lost to him as the others, despite Despair's defeat? It had been traumatic for him, and she couldn't blame him. Maybe that was why he needed her to say it first. As she rose up to tie her pants strings, she froze gazing over at him roughly pulling on his boots.
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Her face relaxed, watching him struggle not knowing why his one boot was not cooperating with him. Gliding over and taking a knee, she found the problem, which was a missed lace, and corrected it with the patience he had lost. When she was finished, both sat there lingering at an impasse. "Cullen, I care for you in such a strong way that it may be considered love, but," looking up, she searched his amber eyes that pleaded for her to go on, "I have no experience with the notion, so much so that I don't know what to do with it. I've never needed anyone as I feel I need you, but I think the reason I really felt hesitant to say anything was because you and I were forced together." His eyes left her for a moment in deep thought, but returned, "I need to know these are genuine feelings and not just a fabrication because of the prophecy."
Cullen blinked several times at her as his shoulder tension released him. Starring off at a nondescript point behind her, she waited for a minute before standing and putting on her boots. Her back was to him, but from the lack of noise, she figured he was still mulling over her words. She felt herself frown unknowing how he would react, especially considering they were spending the entire day together. At the thought of having fucked up, she spun to apologize but gasped as he stood but a foot away.
Taking her marked hand in his, he brought her knuckles to his lips kissing them softly, "You are absolutely right. I'm sorry to have pressed you for answers." The Thane's calloused thumb rubbed circles on hers, "I've known love, and what I feel for you is different than anything I've known. I'm still trying to put words to the feelings myself, so I suppose I hoped you'd do it for me, and that was wrong. Can you forgive me?"
A smile twitched at her lips at the sincerity, "Of course, though I feel better having told you. Maybe we are getting better at this."
"I hope so because if you tied your knots as well as you tied my boots," looking down, she could see it had already come undone, "you and I are going to be married into the next age." They shared a laugh, helping to dispel the heaviness of their conversation. The memory of tying the knots on the Knotting Rope came forth but she could hardly remember how well she did…
"Catch," having walked away, he scooped up Bran's pocket and tossed it at her. Having been lost in the memories when the wet furry sack hit her, she jumped again in surprise. "It'll never get old!"
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The Eye of the Lady Lake was incredibly gorgeous. The large puddle was still as glass, reflecting the sky back at itself. She now understood why the Lady of the Skies could get confused by such a feature. As the day was waning, the late golden sun shot rays through the budding treetops. The bright green grass poked up through the thawing soil and the spring wildflowers bobbed in the breeze.
"Cullen, this is…"
"I know." He stepped forward, guiding her along as she shuffled her feet just taking in the scene. He sat by the water's edge on some smooth pebbles, bringing her down with him. Simply watching him, he dug his hand into the rocky silt rolling it between his fingers. The grays of it came in every shade, making a gritty sound as they rubbed against each other.
After the long day of profitable hunting for the dinner table, it was nice to just sit and take in the serene view. Back in Ostwick, she had only ever gone on hunts as a spectator, as was the custom. Typically, women simply accompanied the men, not actually participating in a meaningful way. However, today with a bow in hand, she received her first lessons in hunting.
Having used a bow before and watched her brothers' lessons with an instructor, she was confident in her knowledge of the weapon. Tweaking her stance occasionally after mentioning that she was shooting prey not targets, her recurve bow took some getting used to. For one, it was much harder to draw than the practice bows, needing more weight to pierce through thick hide. Even with all her strength, when she tried Cullen's bow for fun, she couldn't draw it back the whole way.
Another challenge came in the form of patience. As they stalked through the forest, being quiet and waiting within the brush not making a sound proved more difficult than one would think. Even with soft leather boots, one wrong step scattered their marks. She watched and mimicked his slow and deliberate steps, often crouching down behind cover. Occasionally, they climbed a tree to get a better vantage point, but by midday, her muscles were aching for a reprieve.
Around the same time, Cullen masterfully brought down two halla for their feline guardian. Though Kitsa was capable of bringing them down herself, they had gone the whole day without being bothered by a wyvern or any other unsavories, earning herself their thanks.
Aside from Kitsa's dinner, they shot two rabbits, an assortment of birds, and a fennec. Still not comfortable with the idea of carrying dead animals, despite the excitement of a savory meal later that day. Naturally, she was deservingly teased by Cullen about it, most notably saying that despite her tough exterior, killing demons and such, that part of her was still a prissy noblewoman. She just shrugged it off, throwing back at him that he could've done worse all but marrying Marcher royalty. After joking about how she'd imagine her mother to react to the news if she ever heard, they hiked to the Eye of the Lady to make their offerings.
Now sitting beside each other on the bank, she joined him in feeling the earth. There was something magnetic about the place. Falling back, she stretched her arms out to the side taking a few deep breaths. She felt the clay paint chipping off of her back, but so long as it held on the front, she didn't care.
When Cullen went into the woods to take care of the 'call of nature,' she couldn't help but peer over at herself in the still water. With the sole purpose of checking her very Avvar appearance - and hair - she let out a gasp, falling back on her hands when she was not met by her own reflection. Placing a hand on her chest, her heart was racing, slowly steeling herself to look again. As she did, she found again a different, more terrifying-looking woman staring back at her.
The face was white as snow, painted like a skull with large black voids around her all-white eyes. A dark triangle was prominently featured on her nose and her lips were a pale gray with black lines perpendicularly crossing them. Her high cheekbones were heavily shadowed making her look skeleton-like. Her flat raven hair was riddled with feathers of all kinds as if she lived in a rookery. Other symbols and claw-like lines decorated her pale form making her truly nightmarish.
Enraptured by the figure and unable to turn away even if she wanted to as if compelled, a spindly finger followed by the hand broke the surface. It didn't make ripples, and she blinked a few times making sure she wasn't just dreaming this. When the cold hand gripped her chin gently, pulling her face towards the water, she gazed deeply into the woman's eyes. Through the mage's aura, she felt a calm and loving sensation wash over her making her realize this was no ordinary woman, but the Lady of the Sky herself.
With the surface a few inches away, the goddess closed her eyes, which seemed to force Evelyn's shut as well. Her warm lips made contact with the surface, but a moment later a cold pair met her own. The cooling sensation wasn't unpleasant, not quite reaching the temperature of ice, but a cool drink of water. As Evelyn's lips parted, her mouth filled with the cool liquid that was being squirted into her mouth by The Lady. Swallowing the mouthful, she felt the water spread through her, down to her belly. It seemed to sit there low about the navel, and the temperature difference between it and her core was an odd sensation. As it subsided, she pulled back to gaze at the reflection, but she found her own looking back at her. Her fingers found the skin around her mouth feeling the lingering chill.
"Everything alright?" Starting at the sudden noise, she spun around meeting his perplexed stare, "Jumpy today, aren't we?"
"Cullen… I just saw The Lady."
His smile immediately dropped, and so too his body beside her kneeling. A hand rested between her shoulder blades, "How- how do you know? Did she say something?" Still processing it herself, she simply focused on breathing. "You're trembling."
"It just came as a shock is all. I looked into the water and there She was." She turned to meet him, looking into his worried amber orbs, "She… spit water in my mouth. Does that mean something?"
He searched the recesses of his mind for an answer, "Her waters are said to be nurturing and cleansing, as you know. Perhaps you still had a bit of demon taint still within you or…" His voice trailed off as his jaw went slightly slack.
"Or?" By his look, it told her that he knew the reason.
"Or… she blessed your womb." Her eyes narrowed on him before all but popping out from her head. The cooling sensation she felt had been localized to her belly. "The Skymother is both the creator and taker of life, which is why water is essential to all life. It is her essence."
"Oh," she said in a breathy voice. Evelyn blinked with an uncomfortable frown pulling at her face and her hands tried to find some distraction. She opened and closed her mouth a few times as if she were about to say something, but words wouldn't form. Her pregnant? It was too soon, she wasn't ready. She had barely just fully processed her wedding, let alone now children.
Her thoughts spiraled out of control and the chaos was playing out on her face until a warm hand gripped her shoulders, "Hey," his voice was almost too calm considering this revelation, "no one is forcing you to have a child. Including me, despite the prophecy."
"Wha-what do you mean?" She was hanging on his words.
Letting out a large sigh, he looked away for a few moments before speaking again, "The prophecy states that only after you conceive, will the rest of the Avvar be able to do so too."
"But I killed Despair, surely the curse is broken. A-and people are drinking The Lady's water…"
He shook his head, "I'm not sure of the answer, but what I do know-- what I promise you, is that nothing will happen until you want it to." The resolve in his eyes and tone was there, and after everything, she truly believed him. "Besides," his strong baritone wavered, "I'm not sure I'm ready to face it all again." Having eased her panic, she cupped his face, pulling him into her embrace. They held tight together for some time, both brooding in their own minds about the challenges still to come. When they parted, they shared a knowing wry smile. "We should head to the altar before dusk so we can make it back in time with our kills." She nodded and the two set off for the last leg of their journey.
Adjacent to the lake in a grove of trees lies the altar. Birds of every species pecked around the small clearing, cawing and calling to others. When they were spotted, they scattered up into the trees, quieting somewhat at the appearance of their visitors. Leading her over to a pile of round stones the size of loaves of bread, a crude altar sat in honor of The Lady. Though the top of it was clean, the rocks about it were littered with bird droppings. The Skymother's birds watched them intently as they approached the shrine with their offering.
"To speak to Her, place your hand atop the altar. Afterward, you may give Her pets their offering." His voice was low and quiet, as if they were in the Circle's library, but from studying him she surmised it was because he didn't want to scare the birds. She nodded and climbed the few narrow steps up the stones.
Placing her hand on the smooth worn wood of the shrine, she spoke, "My Lady I'm here to give my thanks to you and your servants for delivering me news from my father. Your gift brought me hope and peace during a complicated time. I thank you for your gift of rain which will cleanse your people of the taint of the demon, allowing them to propagate once more. And… I thank you for the gift you just bestowed upon me. It makes me wish I had brought something more in offering to you." Looking to Her messengers now, she held up to them. Strangely, they all fell quiet, as if knowing she was about to address them, "You've aided me before, and I beseech you again to help my letter reach my father." Opening the sizable sack of seed, she poured it out in a line around the altar. The branches creaked as the weight from dozens of birds lurched forward taking in the sight of food. "Please take this as thanks for your help."
She placed her letter on the altar, giving one last look up to the Skymother before walking back down the path with Cullen. Turning to look back, the Lady's messengers descended on the offering, but not before one large raven grabbed her letter flying up into the late afternoon sun. With a sigh of relief, she found her betrothed hand, clutching tight to his firm arm as they headed home as fiancées one last time.
Dear Father,
I hope my letter finds you well. I'm writing to tell you that Owayne is here with me safe and sound. He plans to stay until I see the prophecy through and I could not be any happier for his support. He wanted me to pass along that he apologizes for his disappearance, knowing it caused you all no small amount of worry.
I do have more news, and that is that come the 1st of Cloudreach I will be married to the Thane. I understand this may come as a shock after having just earned my place among them in the previous letter I sent you. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to know his actual name now, which is Cullen Rutherford. I trust you'll again, keep it to yourself, as his name could direct my enemies to our Hold.
How our betrothal came about is a long story, but know that I'm happy for the union. He's about how you'd imagine any Avvar Thane to be, I suppose, incredibly tall, solid, and one of the best swordsmen I've seen. He has two sisters and a brother and lives in a house that has seen many generations of his family. Do not worry, I will be well cared for and live in the highest level of comfort, as far as Avvar standards go. Most of all, he's kept me safe at risk to himself, but please do not think I'm marrying him because of that. I genuinely care for him and our people, as I've recently been initiated into the clan. I am a 'Lowlander' no longer.
I'm sure you've gathered by now that I am no longer Andrastian. I hope that doesn't disappoint you, but here in the Frostback Basin, it is their gods' domain. If I told you of the blessings and gifts they have bestowed upon me you'd be left in shock and wonder. I worship them as faithfully as I had the Maker, the only difference being that this time, my prayers are directly answered.
Once wed, I will have the title of 'Lady of the Hold' governing beside Cullen. I will be his equal in every way, though I feel I still have much to learn. It would seem some of the lessons mother has instilled in me to be a respectable lady will not be wasted after all, as I ascend to my new post.
Though I wish you could walk me down the aisle on my wedding day, I am grateful Owayne is at least here to act in your stead - that is, so long as I have your blessing. I wish you could meet Cullen, though I suppose you'll just have to take me at my word that you'd approve of him. Owayne seems to like him enough, perhaps when he returns home he can tell you of his time among us.
I send my love, and am missing you dearly!
Your loving Avvar daughter,
Evie
P.S. When you post your letter, please leave out seeds for the birds. It will help to ensure I get it.
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Returning by dusk, the whole family was waiting for them back at home to discuss the next day - their wedding. Walking through the doors were two dress forms wearing their wedding clothes. The couple stood frozen staring at them as Cullen's sisters took their bounty from them to skin and roast. Evelyn had to admit, as she approached her dress it was unlike anything she expected. The light white cotton had no form; It was a rectangle with a hole for her head and belled long sleeves, so unlike the constructed silhouettes of the Lowlands.
"Do you like it?" Rosalie's soft and energetic voice came from just behind her shoulder, "It's a traditional dress, and while it looks plain now…" The petite blond walked to the form picking up something behind it and draping it over the shoulders of the dress. It was a mantle, but constructed all of colorful feathers were carefully organized into a pattern. The time it must've taken Ros to sew on every feather had to have been great or just lent credence to her expert tailoring. Picking up another item obscured by the white cloth, this time out came a hairpiece matching the exotic-looking shoulder covering.
"Oh, Ros this is beautiful! You've made me into a true Phoenix."
"That's not all," Mia's voice carried through the room as she approached with a box. Opening it, Evelyn peered inside to find a rustic set of fine jewelry with insets of amber and turquoise. "This was our mother's. We'd like you to wear it tomorrow." As she looked down at the heirloom touched by the gesture, a large arm wrapped about her waist adding to the warmth of the moment.
She touched a graceful hand to her heart awestruck, "I don't know what to say."
The eldest Rutherford smiled genuinely for once, utterly pleased by her reaction. "Ros and I would like to make amends for yesterday. You were right in that the two of you have the weight of the world on you, and we should've been helping you shoulder it, not adding to it."
"Thank you both, I'm honored." After sharing a warm heartfelt smile with her soon-to-be sisters, she looked up into the face of the man holding her. He was incandescently happy looking upon her with a tender gaze. "May I ask a question?" They all hummed in confirmation, "Isn't the groom forbidden to see the bride's dress before the wedding? It isn't bad luck?"
"No, for this is a combined effort. The only surprise tomorrow will be how many knots Cullen is able to untangle." The couple shared a humorous look, thinking back to her pitiful tying of his boots that garnered their attention, "What's that about?"
The Thane chuckled, "Just that our marriage may end up being the longest in Avvar history."
Ros gave him a sassy look, placing her hands on her hips, "I don't know, I thought she did a decent job… even if she shut her eyes a few times." The last part of her opinion was mumbled.
"You lot told me to feel The Lady's influence and let it guide me, so I did!" Before she could blaspheme the goddess after having just encountered her frightful figure, she examined Cullen's clothes. They had faded stains on them, no doubt from the festivities following his previous two weddings. The women had done a decent job of scrubbing them out, but as the fabric was the same white cotton as her dress, it seemed the fabric was unforgiving. The thick heavy leather belt had two added holes making it larger and gussets were added to the armpits of the shirt to widen it for his broad shoulders. His ceremonial lion pelt was draped diagonally across off a shoulder and across the chest. There were no pants, so she concluded he would just wear whatever he was most comfortable in.
Two hours later following a boisterous dinner as Cullen retold the story of her "incident" in the Mud Pit three times, the group lounged about exhausted by their efforts for the wedding. Finally able to speak with his sister alone, yet still surrounded by Rutherfords, Owayne sat beside her at the table. "How are you feeling about tomorrow, Evie?"
She sat back with a sigh, gazing over at her fiancée, "I'm ready. I think he is too."
He laughed, "It sounds like you're going into battle not getting married." She shrugged at him, "Well, I'm here for you." He hugged her shoulders affectionately.
"Thank you Owayne."
"Even though I haven't known him long, Cullen seems like a good man. I just have one complaint," she quirked an eye up at him, "he never gets drunk!"
She chuckled, catching Cullen's eye from across the room, "Well if that's your only complaint…" He was walking over to her now. With an outstretched hand, she took it, saying her goodnights to her brother.
For the last time as her fiancée and she his stolen bride, the Thane walked her to her room. Leaning against the doorframe, she felt butterflies in her stomach. "The day is finally here," he kept his gaze on the floor sighing, "I hope that-- I mean, if you find yourself-- ugh, this sounded much better in my head."
She gave him a sweet smile, moving in to plant a kiss on his cheek, "I think I know." He was visibly relieved, "I'll see you tomorrow, Rutherford."
"Goodnight, Trevelyan." Walking away he stopped to look back at her one last time from the start of the hallway. In that look was contentment, maybe even happiness. Grinning radiantly, she knocked the door latch disappearing inside.
Tonight was the last night she was simply Evelyn Althea Trevelyan, The Phoenix of Redhold, for tomorrow she would become a wife and Lady of the Hold.