Avalon in summer was a glorious sight. It had borne witness to the making of a new Champion, to the beginnings of a new Priestess, the first to be chosen in more than eight centuries. Summer with its warmth and dappling sunshine had brought with it a love renewed and promised wholly once more, restoring the faith and healing the hurt of those not only within its bounds but of those who lived in the mundane world, across the sea. And those of the mundane with no direct connection with Avalon had been granted a favor given to none in years gone by. The Lady had invited them here - Adam, Gina and her son, Vadim and his wife - to Avalon in the depths of winter, to bear witness to something truly unique.
If Avalon in summer, cast in gold and green, was glorious, then Avalon in winter was crisp beauty in blue and white and clean grey. Snow lay over the hills and fields, decorated the roofs of the town itself. Mist curled in the early mornings against frosted windows turned golden by the flame of the hearth fires inside. Ever-greenery hung from doorposts and wound about garden boundaries, and even the Temple seemed more still than in summer, a stillness that brought every footstep over the crisp snow into sharp contrast with that encompassing, embracing silence.
Yet into that silence in the depths of winter, as February began to turn its face from winter toward the coming spring, bells rang out across Avalon, from churches and Temple alike, filling a particular morning with the sound of celebration. The sun shone, at the behest of the Lady, to illuminate the Temple grounds where a canopy had been laid, hung with primrose and violet and rose, the gathering place for this truly unprecedented, never again to be repeated event. For this was the day that had been awaited with degrees of patience and impatience since the turn of the spring before, when a man had asked a woman to be his wife. On this day, before the council of Avalon, their friends, and at the hand of the Lady herself, Rhys Bristol, her Champion, would take Natalya Pimenova, her Priestess, to be his until time itself reset and the world began again, a promise made in love and trust to hold close for this lifetime and all others to come.
Natalya had awoken that morning in a bedchamber apart from Rhys, almost forcibly removed from his side the night before by the ever patient but sternly firm Handmaidens of the Temple at the Lady's instruction. She had been sure she would not sleep a wink without him, and indeed, had spent an hour or more gazing up at the stars sparkling silver against the velvet black sky. But sleep had come, formless and dreamless, a gift from the Lady to the bride and groom that no nightmares would plague them while they slept beneath the canopy of Avalon's night.
The bells had woken Nat, and she had found herself swept up in a gaggle of excited Handmaidens of differing ages who structured her morning with ruthless efficiency. She had been bullied into eating breakfast, bathed in the sacred waters of the Chalice Well, and had discovered to her amusement that there were some among the Lady's solemn maidens who had a true enjoyment of the feminine arts. And through it all, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach growing stronger as the noon hour approached and with it, the bell that would call her to the Temple to slip from bride to wife in the space of a heartbeat.
Rhys' experience had been similar to Natalya's. There had been no bachelor party, no drunken revelry, no strippers, and thankfully, no hangover. To be honest, Rhys had little interest in strippers or getting drunk. The night before the wedding was to be used for reflection, and Rhys had much to reflect on. He thought about everything that had happened in his life that had led to this moment, some good, some bad. Looking back, as hard and as painful as much of it had been, he realized he wouldn't change a thing.
Everything had led him to this place and this point in time; everything had eventually led him to Avalon and the Lady and most importantly, to Natalya. He knew he was about to enter a new phase in his life, a new adventure. With the blessing of the Lady and with Natalya by his side, he knew he couldn't go wrong. This was the first day of the rest of his life, but it was more than that. In many ways, it was the first day of a brand new life, shedding all that had come before - a brand new life with his beloved. All his dreams were about to come true, and there was no one more excited or more anxious on this the happiest day of his life than Rhys Bristol, except perhaps for his lovely Natalya.
He'd spent the better part of the morning in preparation - breakfast and ritual bathing and prayers, cleansing of the body, as well as the mind and soul. A young squire by the name of Hal had been appointed to assist him in his preparations, and the young man made no secret that he felt honored to have been given the opportunity to serve the Lady's Champion. Rhys was surprised to find that instead of the knightly or courtly attire he'd become somewhat accustomed to during his stay in Avalon, the apparel that had been prepared for the day was modern - a black and white tuxedo with a white boutonniere pinned to the lapel. He was clean-shaven, the scruff of beard he'd been sporting for the last few months gone. He was filled with nervous excitement and anticipation as the noon hour approached, knowing his time as a bachelor was nearly done, ready to start a new life with Natalya as his beloved bride and wife.
The crystal chimes of the Temple bell rang out across the Isle of Avalon as the hour approached, calling all those who wished to witness the joining to the Lady's side as the final preparations were made. Sir Lionel Cavendish, the Grandmaster of the Knights Templar of Avalon, took his leave of the Lady with a bow and a grandfatherly wink to Joey where the boy stood between Adam and Gina, turning to make his way to the little bower where Nat was waiting to join the throng. A Handmaiden in turn slipped to the bower where Rhys had been left, to summon him to the Lady with a joyful smile. The time had come.
Like Nat, Rhys felt butterflies in his stomach, knowing that from this day forward, his life was going to be forever changed. He was about to make the most important decision of his life, and he was going into it with joyful anticipation. To think that one fateful meeting on an airline had set the dominoes tumbling, one fateful day that had forever changed their lives. He often wondered if it wasn't so much chance or Fate that had brought them together, but the hand of the Lady guiding their lives, guiding them together, guiding them to her. Rhys drew a deep breath when the Handmaiden came to fetch him in an attempt to calm his nerves. He knew all eyes were on them today, but this wasn't the first time that had happened, and over the last few months, he'd grown accustomed to the place of honor he'd been given and the attention that came with it.
"Well, my girl," Sir Lionel told Nat warmly as he looked her over, approval glinting in his usually stern face, "is it foolish of an old man to express regret at letting you go?"
Natalya laughed, grateful to her former Master for breaking a little of the tension that wrapped about her, navigating the heavy fall of her skirt to wrap her arms about the old man in a warm embrace. His hands came up to hold her, awkward but affectionate, rubbing against her shoulders as a faint frown touched his brow. "Goodness, girl, you are frozen," he declared, releasing her to look her over once again, seeing the threat of a shiver in the way she held herself. "I rather think your Champion would not like to spend his wedding night ministering to a new wife with hypothermia, do you?"
Nat swallowed, twisting her fingers together as she shook her head. "It never occurred to me to find something to keep myself warm," she admitted a little guiltily.
Sir Lionel smiled, reaching to his throat to unclasp his own short cape of blue velvet and gold, wrapping it about her shoulders. "You will do," he assured her, gently patting her cheek, tilting his arm toward her. "Shall we?"
If Avalon in summer, cast in gold and green, was glorious, then Avalon in winter was crisp beauty in blue and white and clean grey. Snow lay over the hills and fields, decorated the roofs of the town itself. Mist curled in the early mornings against frosted windows turned golden by the flame of the hearth fires inside. Ever-greenery hung from doorposts and wound about garden boundaries, and even the Temple seemed more still than in summer, a stillness that brought every footstep over the crisp snow into sharp contrast with that encompassing, embracing silence.
Yet into that silence in the depths of winter, as February began to turn its face from winter toward the coming spring, bells rang out across Avalon, from churches and Temple alike, filling a particular morning with the sound of celebration. The sun shone, at the behest of the Lady, to illuminate the Temple grounds where a canopy had been laid, hung with primrose and violet and rose, the gathering place for this truly unprecedented, never again to be repeated event. For this was the day that had been awaited with degrees of patience and impatience since the turn of the spring before, when a man had asked a woman to be his wife. On this day, before the council of Avalon, their friends, and at the hand of the Lady herself, Rhys Bristol, her Champion, would take Natalya Pimenova, her Priestess, to be his until time itself reset and the world began again, a promise made in love and trust to hold close for this lifetime and all others to come.
Natalya had awoken that morning in a bedchamber apart from Rhys, almost forcibly removed from his side the night before by the ever patient but sternly firm Handmaidens of the Temple at the Lady's instruction. She had been sure she would not sleep a wink without him, and indeed, had spent an hour or more gazing up at the stars sparkling silver against the velvet black sky. But sleep had come, formless and dreamless, a gift from the Lady to the bride and groom that no nightmares would plague them while they slept beneath the canopy of Avalon's night.
The bells had woken Nat, and she had found herself swept up in a gaggle of excited Handmaidens of differing ages who structured her morning with ruthless efficiency. She had been bullied into eating breakfast, bathed in the sacred waters of the Chalice Well, and had discovered to her amusement that there were some among the Lady's solemn maidens who had a true enjoyment of the feminine arts. And through it all, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach growing stronger as the noon hour approached and with it, the bell that would call her to the Temple to slip from bride to wife in the space of a heartbeat.
Rhys' experience had been similar to Natalya's. There had been no bachelor party, no drunken revelry, no strippers, and thankfully, no hangover. To be honest, Rhys had little interest in strippers or getting drunk. The night before the wedding was to be used for reflection, and Rhys had much to reflect on. He thought about everything that had happened in his life that had led to this moment, some good, some bad. Looking back, as hard and as painful as much of it had been, he realized he wouldn't change a thing.
Everything had led him to this place and this point in time; everything had eventually led him to Avalon and the Lady and most importantly, to Natalya. He knew he was about to enter a new phase in his life, a new adventure. With the blessing of the Lady and with Natalya by his side, he knew he couldn't go wrong. This was the first day of the rest of his life, but it was more than that. In many ways, it was the first day of a brand new life, shedding all that had come before - a brand new life with his beloved. All his dreams were about to come true, and there was no one more excited or more anxious on this the happiest day of his life than Rhys Bristol, except perhaps for his lovely Natalya.
He'd spent the better part of the morning in preparation - breakfast and ritual bathing and prayers, cleansing of the body, as well as the mind and soul. A young squire by the name of Hal had been appointed to assist him in his preparations, and the young man made no secret that he felt honored to have been given the opportunity to serve the Lady's Champion. Rhys was surprised to find that instead of the knightly or courtly attire he'd become somewhat accustomed to during his stay in Avalon, the apparel that had been prepared for the day was modern - a black and white tuxedo with a white boutonniere pinned to the lapel. He was clean-shaven, the scruff of beard he'd been sporting for the last few months gone. He was filled with nervous excitement and anticipation as the noon hour approached, knowing his time as a bachelor was nearly done, ready to start a new life with Natalya as his beloved bride and wife.
The crystal chimes of the Temple bell rang out across the Isle of Avalon as the hour approached, calling all those who wished to witness the joining to the Lady's side as the final preparations were made. Sir Lionel Cavendish, the Grandmaster of the Knights Templar of Avalon, took his leave of the Lady with a bow and a grandfatherly wink to Joey where the boy stood between Adam and Gina, turning to make his way to the little bower where Nat was waiting to join the throng. A Handmaiden in turn slipped to the bower where Rhys had been left, to summon him to the Lady with a joyful smile. The time had come.
Like Nat, Rhys felt butterflies in his stomach, knowing that from this day forward, his life was going to be forever changed. He was about to make the most important decision of his life, and he was going into it with joyful anticipation. To think that one fateful meeting on an airline had set the dominoes tumbling, one fateful day that had forever changed their lives. He often wondered if it wasn't so much chance or Fate that had brought them together, but the hand of the Lady guiding their lives, guiding them together, guiding them to her. Rhys drew a deep breath when the Handmaiden came to fetch him in an attempt to calm his nerves. He knew all eyes were on them today, but this wasn't the first time that had happened, and over the last few months, he'd grown accustomed to the place of honor he'd been given and the attention that came with it.
"Well, my girl," Sir Lionel told Nat warmly as he looked her over, approval glinting in his usually stern face, "is it foolish of an old man to express regret at letting you go?"
Natalya laughed, grateful to her former Master for breaking a little of the tension that wrapped about her, navigating the heavy fall of her skirt to wrap her arms about the old man in a warm embrace. His hands came up to hold her, awkward but affectionate, rubbing against her shoulders as a faint frown touched his brow. "Goodness, girl, you are frozen," he declared, releasing her to look her over once again, seeing the threat of a shiver in the way she held herself. "I rather think your Champion would not like to spend his wedding night ministering to a new wife with hypothermia, do you?"
Nat swallowed, twisting her fingers together as she shook her head. "It never occurred to me to find something to keep myself warm," she admitted a little guiltily.
Sir Lionel smiled, reaching to his throat to unclasp his own short cape of blue velvet and gold, wrapping it about her shoulders. "You will do," he assured her, gently patting her cheek, tilting his arm toward her. "Shall we?"