The sun shone brightly, glimmering off the trembling surface of the ocean far below, the contrast of bright silvery blue a beautiful juxtaposition to the rich coolness of the deep green that was the trees that surrounded the villa. Aurelia sighed with deep contentment, laying back against the grass. She wasn't entirely sure where Ian was - he had said he was just "nipping into the city to get a few things" about an hour ago, but she knew her husband well enough to understand that if he had been distracted, he could well be another hour in returning. So much had happened in the past few days, she didn't mind being left alone for an hour or two. It gave her a chance to process everything she had seen and done.

Was it really only three days ago that Ian had drunk from the Holy Grail" She didn't think she would forget that morning as long as she lived. The cool quiet of the dawn as the Handmaidens had escorted them from their cottage, through Avalon, to where the great grey edifice of the Christian Abbey stood. Through that, too, past medieval carvings and decorations that filled the nave, to an underground chapel that felt warm and welcoming. It had been crowded with people - some they knew, most they didn't - and she had been taken by Rhys and Natalya to stand with them and witness Ian's acceptance into Avalon.

She didn't recall much of the ceremony itself, none of the ritual words spoken by the Lady or by anyone else there. She recalled mostly the way Ian had fallen to his knees, every part of himself turned inward, examining something so personal to himself that only the Grail could reach it. She remembered the fear that had gripped her in the long moments he was so silent, the terror that perhaps she had become a wife only to be made a widow, the horrifying prospect of raising a child alone in a world she hardly knew. But then Ian had raised his head, the Lady had smiled, and all was right once again. Ian Evans was the Loremaster of Avalon, accepted and acknowledged by every person there.

Though he had been a little shaky on his feet in the aftermath of the ceremony, Ian had insisted on remaining in the Lady Chapel, to meet with the woman who held vigil over the Grail every day, a woman who had lived far longer than she should have, weighed down with guilt that was of her own making.

Guinevere, who now called herself Sister Agnes, had aged greatly, an elderly woman now in her severe black and white habit. She had spoken to them with great compassion, with great courtesy ....until the subject of her oath had arisen, until Ian had tried to convince her that there was no need for her to hold onto the pain of her guilt. All at once, Aurelia had seen how time and age could harden a person. Guinevere had resolutely refused to speak further on the subject, turning her eyes to the Grail, resuming her prayers as though there had been no interruption, stonewalling any and all attempts to continue their conversation. Defeated, they had been forced to give up, returning to the morning light of Avalon with a strange heaviness in them for the stubborn refusal of one ancient woman to forgive her past mistakes and rest.

Rhys and Natalya had been waiting for them, quick to sweep them up and return them to the tower house, where they had breakfasted with Rachel and Zachariel, who had not been present at the ceremony. After an hour or so of rest, Rhys had finally been unable to contain his excitement, and had dragged Ian away to visit Excalibur, wanting to pick the man's memories about Arthur and see his reaction to the famous sword in its resting place. Natalya had taken Aurelia to meet her former mentor, Sir Lionel, a man who was titled the Grand Master of the Temple, and who had been given Ana to look after the moment Rhys and Ian arrived, to allow the Champion and Priestess of Avalon to show off the Treasury to the Loremaster and his wife.

Aurelia could remember the ring of sheer power that surrounded the place, knowing what was down there even before they had stepped between the trees onto steps worn smooth by the ages. It was wonderful to know that Pellam, Lionel's ultimate predecessor and their brief friend, had put all this in place. How could he possibly have known how very vital such a place would be in the centuries to come" While Aurelia had lost Ian to the swords Rhys wanted to tell him all about, she had engaged Natalya to explain other of the artifacts to her, coming away with a healthy respect for the sheer firepower Avalon safeguarded and did not use.

Then their time had been up, their appointed hour having come, and with a last farewell to Elaine, the Lady of the Lake, Nat had whisked them all back to Pennsylvania with twenty minutes to spare before their legal marriage ceremony was due to take place. The look on Rhys' face after his first experience of shimmering was one Aurelia wasn't going to forget in a hurry, glad that Ian could now poke fun at their friend in kind after the teasing about her husband's aversion to traveling by magic. Yet, in comparison to Avalon, that ceremony had felt long and superfluous, only rescued by Ana deciding to garble along with them as they took their vows once again. But it was done now - signatures on a register announced that she was now Aurelia Evans, legal and bound wife of her absent-minded professor.

A quick shimmer at Rhys' instructions had brought the newlyweds here, to Monte-Carlo, to a villa rented out for their pleasure for the remainder of the month, and it was here they had finally begun the process of accepting the changes that had bound them so tightly together. Not simply married, but expecting their first child, there was a great deal to decide and consider over the coming months. But not now. This was a time to simply enjoy one another, and forget for a time the world and work waiting for them when they returned home.

Aurelia laughed, stretching out on the grass. Yes, it may be cliched, it may be trite ....but these truly were the first days of the rest of their lives.