how long has it been?

[small_magics]

Isibel's beloveds are home. And they are with her. And they are quite undisturbed.

Anyone who could not guess the ensuing events would not know them very well.

She has spent over a sennight, now, with them, entangled and sleepless and so very, very glad to have them again.

It is during a lull in the proceedings - if it can really be called that, when they are sandwiched around her, Ansharil in one of his humanoid shapes, Aianon with his wings wrapping them all up in a bundle - when it occurs to her that Lycaelon was promised a kiss, once, years ago.

Comments

[pythbox]

[Me too,] Liselen says cheerfully. [I don't have any urgent unicorning to do in the next little while, not that I know about anyway.]

[small_magics]

[Well, then,] says Isibel, conferencing in everyone who will appear at the wedding, [there are no time constraints at all. Perhaps we should begin right now.]

[pythbox]

[So long as your magic can provide a well-laid feast table in an appropriate pavilion,] says Magania. [Otherwise we may be some time finding those things.]

[small_magics]

[My enchanted village can certainly do it.] There is a platform suspended high in the trees, to which she teleports herself and Ansharil; it is currently unoccupied, but when she claps her hands and asks it for a feast, it sets about arranging one.

[pythbox]

Liselen shows up first.

"Lycaelon says congratulations," he reports, swishing his tail.

[small_magics]

Isibel pets Liselen's mane. "That is kind. He can be at the other ceremony. If he were at this one he would distract the groom, alas." She supposes she should inform Lycaelon of as much. [We are planning to have two weddings. You can be at the other, after Bonding, if you still want to. My beloved thinks that should wait until after Aianon has finished with his nap, however.]

[wildlymagical]

[I thought it might be something like that,] says Lycaelon.

[small_magics]

[Yes. Probably Angela will perform the other ceremony, at or around the next Bellparty.]

Isibel goes and fetches her parents.

[pythbox]

By the time she has done that, Magania is present also, admiring Ansharil's hair.

[small_magics]

It is lovely hair! Is this everyone? This looks like everyone. Isibel touches her pendant and smiles.

[endragoned]

Ansharil smiles, too.

[small_magics]

Elven weddings are simple - so much of the guesswork that humans and so on like to shore up with ritual is handled by soul-sympathy. Magania speaks, and Isibel and Ansharil speak, and it's done, and all that remains is to feast.

[endragoned]

Ooh, feasting.

[small_magics]

Feasting, and sappy looks between bride and groom, and Rania cooing over her child, and Cariel giving Ansharil possibly approving nods that are probably meaningful if you are actually a male elf and not pretending.

[endragoned]

The sappy looks are Ansharil's favourite part.

[pythbox]

The feasting is Liselen's!

[small_magics]

And eventually Rania and Cariel go home.

[pythbox]

And so do Magania and Liselen.

[endragoned]

And Ansharil scoops up Isibel and kisses her.

[small_magics]

Scooping! Kissing! Isibel approves. These are good things.

[endragoned]

Perhaps they should go and have some more sex. Ansharil is vaguely aware that some cultures consider that a marriage tradition.

[small_magics]

Some do! They should belong to one.

(And then - she will finally go catch up with other things.)

[endragoned]

Yes. That seems like a good plan.

[small_magics]

Hello again, Isibel's tree!

[endragoned]

It is such a lovely tree. Ansharil is pleased with it.