A feast was not an easy thing to throw together on short notice, but somehow, Meara and Gregor had managed to do just that. It was to be a private affair attended primarily by those closest to Liam - his family and friends, his generals and advisers and their families, as well as the twenty-eight clansmen who had recently joined them as allies. A small clearing had been chosen for the celebration, lit by torches and filled with row upon row of wooden tables and benches. One table stood out from the others, decorated with an array of candles and flowers that set the small space aglow with warm, golden light. Two chairs stood at the center of the table, more ornate than the others, and seated there side-by-side were the bride and groom. Beside the groom, sat his mother and step-father, and on the other side of Shaye were Conall and Liayna.

The smell of roast pig permeated the place, setting mouths to water, but before the feasting could begin, Liam had decided to officially present his new bride and explain the significance of this event to those gathered. They, in turn, could pass word on to the rest of the camp, so that all knew what had taken place there that day and why.

The night was warm, and he had removed the cloak and gloves that he had worn while exchanging vows with his bride. His sword, too, had been removed, deemed an unnecessary encumbrance at this gathering of his closest friends and advisers. Instead, he wore only a dagger at his waist, more out of habit than anything else. Once everyone had found their seats, Liam moved to his feet to stand before them, a hush falling over the crowd to hear what he had to say. There had been rumors circulating the encampment ever since Shaye had been escorted inside. There were those who thought their leader mad, while others assumed Shaye was a captive who would be executed for her crimes. Confusion ensued, but for those who knew Liam's heart and knew the truth behind Shaye's capture. This was Liam's chance to set it all to rights, if those who trusted him as their leader would only but listen.

"My friends," Liam started as he stood before them, looking from one to the other as he took the assembly in as a whole. "I know some of you might be wondering what has taken place here today, why you have been gathered here for this feast. I know many of you have questions you would like answered, and so, before we share in this celebration, I would like to take a moment to explain." He turned his gaze to the woman who sat beside him before turning back to the congregation. "Most of you know that many years ago, I was a recruit in the Queen's Legions with aspirations at becoming one of the Royal Guard. What you may not know is that while I was there, I met someone with whom I fell in love and who changed my life forever. That someone sits beside me today and who I now present to you as my wife and my chosen life-mate." Liam looked once more at Shaye and offered her a hand to rise to her feet beside him.

As Liam spoke, Shaye sat, stiff-backed, aware of the curious and sometimes hostile eyes that looked at her. It didn't help that the untrusting Conall was on her other side, hemming her in. But more than that, she was on edge, her senses humming. Someone here was a danger, someone meant to do harm. Her instincts had been honed through years of battle; she knew when a man had decided that death was the only outcome he could accept. Her gaze darted back and forth, seeking out that hostile presence, only to be interrupted as Liam extended his hand to her. Realizing she had to play the role he had assigned to her, if only for one night, she took that hand and rose to her feet, a pale-haired lady by the side of the leader the rebels knew and respected.

"Some of you may know her as the First Blade. I know her as Shaye Dervla, the girl to whom I lost my heart and to whom I owe my life. She has been ever in my heart and mind since our parting many years ago, when she sacrificed her own freedom so that I could escape the hands of the traitorous false queen. It is because of her that I stand before you today, and it is because of her that the rebellion lives. She, like us, has suffered at the hands of Velasca's tyranny.

"She, like us, feels no love for the Usurper. I have struggled these many years to free us from Velasca's rule, and to free this woman from her servitude. It should be noted that Shaye Dervla came here of her own choice and her own free will. She laid down her arms and surrendered herself to us, putting herself at risk and trusting in the oath I made to her many years ago, to love and protect her for all the days of my life. Together, we made this oath, as well as an oath to serve the True Queen of Arctra, and it is to that end that she has come here today. We are close to victory, my friends. Very close.

"We have welcomed the Wild Ones among us as friends and allies to join in our cause," he said, extending an arm to indicate the group who sat together among the others gathered there. "By Thalan and the moon, I swear we will capture the Sword of Arlan and Velasca's hold over the First Blade will be broken. We will retake Phalion and restore the true line of queens. We will free Loscar and seek justice for all those wronged by the Usurper and her allies. It is time we reclaim what is ours under the Nine Gods and the Goddess of the Wild Ones. And we are able to do this because the First Blade has returned to us. Because Velasca has erred in her judgment, and we will take advantage of her mistake. I humbly ask you, not as your leader, but as a man, to join me in welcoming Shaye Dervla home to her family and friends and to the arms of the one man who has always loved her and never given up on her."

He turned to face his beloved and reached to take both her hands in his. "I pledge you my heart and my soul, to love and to cherish you all the days of my life, just as I did when I was a boy. We will have our victory together."

Stirring words, and words that had the effect Liam had hoped for. He was known to be a fair and just man, and though his generals might not sit comfortably with the knowledge that he had just married the one woman in the realm who physically could not disobey an order from the Usurper, so long as she held the Sword of Arlan, they were sensible enough not to cling to that discomfort. Liam promised them that the time was come, and that was enough. As voices rose in a cheer, however, something went terribly wrong.

Shaye was aware of it first, a movement in the guards that stood behind Liam's chair. Torchlight fell upon the face of the man who stepped forward, and she felt a flare of fury, a stab of fear. She knew that face - he was one of Velasca's personal guards, dismissed from service publicly only a few months before. He was also a known assassin, and there could be only one reason he was there. As Liam took her hands, she pulled him abruptly forward, sending him sprawling onto the table in front of him, revealing the knife the assassin held raised to stab. That blade found purchase on her arm as she lifted her hands to protect Liam's back, blood blooming to stain the silk she wore as she pushed the attacker away. Her hand fumbled for the knife at Liam's belt as the assassin lunged once again ....and stopped abruptly, a stone knife buried in his throat. As the man fell, bubbling his way to an unpleasant death, Shaye's eyes turned, incredulous, to the nomad woman who sat on the other side of Conall.

Liayna met her eyes with calm assurance, inclining her head to the astonished First Blade as, around them, the rebel guard pushed forward, too late to stop an attacker already dead.

Chaos and confusion broke out, if only for a moment, as a member of Liam's own personal guard attempted to kill the man he had sworn to protect. Screams and gasps erupted from the gathering as horrified guests witnessed what was taking place right before their eyes. Some of them sprung to their feet, hands on blades to defend their leader, but all of them too late. Even Conall, who was sitting beside Shaye was too slow to stop the unexpected attack, though he had followed Liayna to his feet, sword drawn at the ready. But no one was as startled as the rebel leader who found himself shoved roughly aside by the woman he had just presented to the gathering as one to be trusted and respected.

Liam grunted a reply at Liayna's remark regarding the debt he owed Shaye. "Wouldn't be the first time," he half-muttered, not pleased with Shaye for putting her own life in danger once again for his sake, but not wanting to argue about it either. Not today. He huffed a little at Gregor's remark, but did not argue, all his concern for the moment going to Shaye. He pushed back her sleeve to touch her arm with gentle fingers, knowing that only a moment before that gash in her flesh had exposed muscle and bone. "It would seem I owe you both a debt of gratitude," he said, regarding the two women, before turning his gaze to Shaye. "Do you think you can find it in your heart to love an idiot?"

Shaye's brow slowly rose as she met Liam's gaze, not entirely sure what he hoped to achieve by asking a question he already knew the answer to. "I loved the idiot a long time before I loved the commander," she told him with a teasing smirk, rubbing the drying blood from her arm. "It's nice to know that some things never change." She raised her hand to his cheek, kissing him tenderly.

At Conall's side, Liayna brushed her cheek against her eniro's shoulder. "You could have asked aloud," she murmured to him. "The Goddess answered your prayer, not mine."

Conall had quietly returned to his seat and just as quietly returned Liayna's blade, wiped clean of the assassin's blood. "It was you who said the words," he whispered back, hoping to have a word with Shaye later. He owed her a big apology. "Thank you, aera," he said as he leaned his head close to hers and touched a kiss to her cheek. He was not only thanking her for finishing the assassin and for the healing, but for everything she had done for him and those he cared for since her arrival.

Beside them, Liam and Shaye had gone quiet as the tension between them eased away at the kiss. With any luck, they would put that passion to good use later that evening when they were at last alone.

Meara, too, had returned to her seat, shaken but relieved at what could have been a disaster. She smiled at her husband, though the smile was a little tense. "It is just like you to think of your stomach at a time like this."

"It's supposed to be a feast, isn't it?" Gregor pointed out. It wasn't that he was callous or heartless, but no one at this table could be seen to be shaken by what had just happened. He gently curled Meara's hand about her cup, encouraging her to take a drink to steady her nerves, and raised his voice. "Serve! The newly weds need something to give them a little stamina for the night!"

Now that the threat of disaster had passed and those gathered saw that everything was well in hand, the tension seemed to subside and people remembered Liam's speech and the reason they had been invited for this celebration. Toasts were made in honor of the bride and groom, while a feast of food and drink was served and shared by all. Even those who were not present would enjoy an extra helping tonight. The Gods had been good to them, and Liam wanted to make sure everyone was part of the festivities, even if they were not present for the celebration. Musicians were called on to play, and eventually the bride and groom were called on to dance.

"Oh, no," Shaye shook her head, laughing as she waved her hands to try and stave off the call to dance. "The only dance I know happens with a sword in my hand, that's not happening tonight!"

"Ha!" Liam laughed, as he, too, wanted nothing to do with dancing and making a fool of himself in front of those he would soon be leading into battle. "You can dance with my sword later, wife!" he bellowed, a little too loudly, but then he might have had one too many pints of ale.

"Wife?" Shaye's brows were high in challenge as she eyed her slightly tipsy husband with a smirk. "Tell you what - you dance, and I'll decide if I want to sharpen your sword later on if you're any good at it."

"Oh, I am better than good. Ask anyone!" Liam countered, immediately regretting his words. Not exactly anyone. His romantic entanglements outside of Shaye were far fewer than she might think.

Conall smirked at the boast from his friend and leaned toward Shaye to set her straight on that regard. "Don't let him fool you. He hasn't sharpened his sword in years."

"Ha!" Liam interjected again, overhearing his friend contest his claim. "My own brother betraying me to my wife. Is nothing sacred between friends?" he complained, though there was the hint of a smirk on his whiskered face.

Conall rolled his eyes. "You're drunk. I'll wager you can't dance a jig without falling on your face!" If Liayna had once accused Liam of not knowing how to live, it seemed all that had changed. With Shaye by his side, he seemed renewed with life and vigor.

"If you won't dance, we'll have to bed you," Gregor interjected with a raucous laugh of his own above the chatter and laughter of men and woman thoroughly enjoying themselves for the first time in months. Now there was a threat - the bedding ceremony was something usually only the highborn went in for, but no one was going to put it past Liam's generals not to whisk him and his wife off to his tent and strip them before pushing them into bed together.

"Is that a challenge, General?" Liam countered with a pointed look at his step-father and former tutor.

Meara laughed as she watched the interaction between those at the table, happy that their family was complete once again. But it was Conall who replied for the group. "Not a challenge. A promise. Do you even remember what to do with a woman?"

"What does that have to do with dancing?" Liam retorted, swaying a little as he moved to his feet.

"That's not a woman, that's the First Blade!" Gregor roared with laughter, and even Shaye laughed at that, stubbornly refusing to get up and dance. She'd rather be stripped naked by half a dozen drunks than dance in front of them, and it showed.

From Conall's other side, the lilting voice of Liayna joined the teasing. "Even the sharpest sword needs a sheath."

"You're going to have one hell of something else!" he teased back, too drunk to think of anything better. "Hey, now....what?s this"!" he exclaimed as they were both hoisted over the heads of their friends and family. "I demand you put me down immediately!" he commanded, though he was really in no condition to do much about it, other than look more than a little put out.

Conall touched a kiss to Liayna's cheek before joining the ranks of the others in escorting the newlyweds to their bridal bed.

With Gregor Makos leading the way, Liam and Shaye were paraded through the camp to where his tent had been re-struck in the hours since the wedding itself - away from the main cluster of tents, within a wooded copse, to give them some semblance of privacy for their marriage bed. Tonight, the nomads would stand guard over them - the safest ears to overhear a man and woman together for the first time as husband and wife. As they reached the tent, the pair were set onto their feet in the center of the group, hands already reaching to remove the belts that wrapped both waists. Shaye instantly stiffened, a warning in her eyes that went unheeded by most. But only an idiot ignores that look in the First Blade's eyes.

Thankfully, that was where Conall stepped in, allowing the ribaldry to only go so far. He cast a glance at Gregor, hoping he was in agreement. Whether it was a tradition or not, Liam was still their leader and Shaye was the First Blade. Both deserved a certain amount of respect and consideration when it came to their pride and honor, not to mention their privacy. "That's enough. Let's leave them to it. There's more ale to be had and more dancing to be done," he said, stepping in front of Shaye, almost as if to challenge anyone who dared go too far.

Of course, Conall was a little more circumspect than Gregor was. Where Conall defended Shaye with his own body, Gregor simply seized the first man who laid hands on Liam and spun him about, planting a boot in his rear to send him off in the wrong direction. "You heard the second, lads, hands off," he ordered, bristling fiercely. "You've women of your own to entertain tonight. Best get to it before the drink runs dry." With some grumbles, but mostly laughter, the rowdy company took their leave easily enough, abandoning Liam and Shaye to Gregor and Conall.

A gentle hand touched Conall's back. "Thank you," Shaye murmured to him, even as her eyes turned to Liam with amused resignation. "Ah, well," she sighed cheerfully. "I could do with a good night's sleep, anyway."

Conall inclined his head in silent reply. Perhaps there was hope for them to become friends yet. As far as he was concerned, she had proven herself and he no longer doubted that she loved Liam as much as he did, albeit differently. "I trust he is in good hands, lady," he said as he backed away. "Rest well. The nomads will make sure you are not disturbed."

Thankfully, most of the retinue was gone before Liam could toss a half-drunken fist their way, unsure how he felt about being whisked away to his tent in such a fashion.

Shaye laughed at Liam's flailing, catching him by the shoulders and turning him toward their tent. "Come on, rua," she told him. "Time for bed. Good night, sergeant, Conall."

Conall slapped a hand against Makos' back as the two men turned to leave, finally affording the newlyweds some small semblance of privacy, for at least one night. They had women of their own to tend to and Conall was hoping for a private word with the general as they made their way back.

Liam stumbled as he was spun toward the tent, thankfully remaining on his feet. "Time for bed but not for sleep!" he exclaimed with a grin.

Chuckling, Shaye guided him into the tent, pausing to draw the heavy canvas and leather flaps closed, shutting out the night and the camp beyond. "Let's see if you can survive getting out of those heavy garments first, shall we, rua?" she suggested warmly, moving to finish the work of undoing his belt and removing it from his waist.

"Are you going to dance with my sword now, lea"" Liam asked, waggling his brows at her, swaying a little in place as she undid his belt. "Just like old times, isn't it, Shaye' Remember our secret place" Do you think it still stands?" Drunk though he might be, he was becoming sentimental now that they were at last alone.

She laughed softly, steadying him as she let the belt drop with a thunk onto the fur that covered the canvas floor of the tent. "I remember," she promised him. "I remember everything when it comes to you. It's all that's kept me going, knowing that somewhere out in the world, you were still alive." Clever fingers worked at the fastening on his ornate tunic as she spoke, almost nose to nose with him in the warm gloom that enveloped them. "It doesn't matter if that secret place is still standing. Because it's in our memory."

"You do not find me a disappointment, do you, lea?" he asked, the ale breaking down the walls he held around his heart and that guarded his pride. Though now a man and quite possibly the most powerful man in all of Arctra, inside he was still very much the insecure boy who had fallen in love with a wild child of a girl. "You..." he started, pushing back a sleeve of her dress to bare a smooth shoulder, his eyes admiring the view, his body stirring to life beneath his clothing, despite the ale. "You are more lovely than I remembered. I do not know how I have survived without you all these years."

Though she'd already told herself he would be asleep within moments of lying on the bed, Shaye couldn't help the reaction she felt to the gentle way he drew that fold of silk away from her shoulder, the brush of his sword-callused fingers over her skin as his own tunic fell open at her touch. She bit her lip for a moment, raising her eyes to his. "You'll never disappoint me, rua," she promised him softly, aware of the flush that was spreading over her pale skin under his admiring gaze. "I love you." She gently drew his tunic open, easing it down from his shoulders, determined to at least get him comfortable.