Summer 6, 513 AV
Stonewhistling Pavilion
------------------------------
Notes on JoiningThis is an open thread for the wedding of Aramenta Stonewhistling. If you are very close to Aramenta, or have strong family ties to the Amethyst clan, feel free to start at the Stonewhistling Pavilion - we'll be leaving toward her new home soon. Otherwise, most people attending, would go to the Facetshine Pavilion in the Sapphire Clan, where the actual ceremony will take place. If you have any questions about how far inside the family circle you would be allowed, feel free to drop me a line, I'm eminently flexible.
The day was fine and hot, having thickened in the morning, a sea-breeze carrying a humidity that still bore the tang of salt to it, and pouring it across the Sea of Grass. The clouds of the previous week had melted, leaving the air as clear as a well-cut sapphire-stone. The grass pushed up, fresh and virile with the smell of summer-sap. A wheeling flock of starlings danced breathily through the sky, slowly dissipating like a drop of color in a still pool of clear water, as its members found snitching grounds for the day.
The most popular, perhaps, was the Stonewhistling pavilion, where ARamenta's stepmother hummed softly as she spread broken seed cake across the horse-door of the pavilion. It had not been so many years since her own daughters had wed, and despite the short notice - for what Drykas these days would wait long for a wedding? - she had the house under control. The starlings hopped their way with the pleasure of bickering children through their orphans, chirping orgiastically, as they fought over which morsel to eat next. There was plenty. It would last long enough. The woman went back inside.
Inside, her husband, Ara's father stood, surrounded by other men, mostly Stonewhistlings, but a few close friends beside that, all laughing and congratulatory. More distant relations were now drifting in outside the pavilion itself, to accompany the bridal party when it left the Stonewhistling Pavilion to what would become Ara's new home: Facetshine Pavilion, in the Clan Sapphire. Canterfoot stood patiently to the side, where a braidworker pulled long, intricate plaits into the mare's main and tail, weaving bits of shining stone.
Behind this, a cloth had been hung, blocking off the work of the women. Ara's stepmother slipped through the corner and the men hooted, playfully pretending to try to peek through the gap.
Inside the curtain, Aramenta stood atop stout crate, still, and quiet, as she was fussed over. Most of the women of the pavilion were crowded in, and of course, most were doing nothing whatsoever. Her grandmother sat propped carefully into a chair, her eyes awake and alert, but her body slack. Her youngest sister in law, barely a whisper above Ara's age sat to one side breastfeeding a child while she chattered noisily with some of the other girls. The Ankal's eldest wife, a stout, bluff-faced woman, stood before Ara delivering prolix advice.
Ara, for her part was standing with a blouse hanging round her shoulders, and her legs still bare, as two of the teenage daughters of the Ankal rubbed at them with smooth, shiny stones to liven the skin. Livvy stood behind her, pulling her hair up into its intricate brainwork, and humming, but very, very softly, a song too sad, perhaps for the occasion, but unnoticed in the general hubbub. She held a lace parasol, a gift from her lacemaking teacher, in one arm, and a pair of fine, doe-skin gloves, a gift from the Ankal's wife, in the other. A child of eight buffed ineffectually at her boots with a horsehair-brush - frankly, if the boots were to grow any shinier, at this point, they would have had to be transformed into polished stone.
The air was one of pleasure, excitement, the general enjoyment of spectacle.
----------
Meanwhile, at Facetshine, the pavilion itself was deserted but for a few lonely dogs and horses, and a few men preparing the wedding feast. The family, and a multitude of friends, acquaintances, hangers-on, and just those who saw the opportunity for inexpensive liquor all stood outside, milling about, chattering easily - the air of a Groom's once - and one already twice-wed - was much calmer, and most of the conversation was not about the wedding at all. Gossip about what would come of the meetings of the Clan heads. Pleasant exchanges over the weather. Jokes about the food.
The only man truly engrossed by the wedding itself was the groom, Pedrion Facetshine, who stood at the edge of the group, staring out over the grass toward the direction from which his new wife would approach. He hummed, softly, and found himself - between pleasant nods and gratitude at passing well-wishers - thinking, surprisingly, of his first wife, how she had ridden up on her chestnut mare. Raven-haired, and older than him. Thought of her lips, her hands, her shoulders, the way they had keyed together like a fit lock on their wedding night. He smiled wistfully. This new wife, though the Sea of Grass was unpredictable, she would likely far outlive him, for as long as he was alive, he'd keep her as safe as the Sea allowed. None of his first wives had been so small, so fragile. So young, too, but the youth did not strike him, then, not at that moment, and really not since the proposal, for when she had accepted, she had seemed, about the eyes, so old, older even than he was, and he was, he confessed to himself, no more a foal nor a colt. But young enough. The Ankal had spoken, had told the men how important it was to wed, and quickly. If these randy young bucks needed an example of that, Pedrion was more than willing to oblige, and he had in him, still, enough kick to breed children.
He chuckled at that, and checked on his Strider again, a great broad-backed beast. None of the dainty lacework, of course, that he assumed his wife's horse would bear, but a string of Sapphires, precious heirlooms of his pavilion, hung from the horn. and the pinto coat was curried to a shine. It would be a good wedding. Aramenta was a good girl, and the Stonewhistlings a respectable, and hardworking family. All would be well.
x
Stonewhistling Pavilion
------------------------------
Notes on JoiningThis is an open thread for the wedding of Aramenta Stonewhistling. If you are very close to Aramenta, or have strong family ties to the Amethyst clan, feel free to start at the Stonewhistling Pavilion - we'll be leaving toward her new home soon. Otherwise, most people attending, would go to the Facetshine Pavilion in the Sapphire Clan, where the actual ceremony will take place. If you have any questions about how far inside the family circle you would be allowed, feel free to drop me a line, I'm eminently flexible.
The day was fine and hot, having thickened in the morning, a sea-breeze carrying a humidity that still bore the tang of salt to it, and pouring it across the Sea of Grass. The clouds of the previous week had melted, leaving the air as clear as a well-cut sapphire-stone. The grass pushed up, fresh and virile with the smell of summer-sap. A wheeling flock of starlings danced breathily through the sky, slowly dissipating like a drop of color in a still pool of clear water, as its members found snitching grounds for the day.
The most popular, perhaps, was the Stonewhistling pavilion, where ARamenta's stepmother hummed softly as she spread broken seed cake across the horse-door of the pavilion. It had not been so many years since her own daughters had wed, and despite the short notice - for what Drykas these days would wait long for a wedding? - she had the house under control. The starlings hopped their way with the pleasure of bickering children through their orphans, chirping orgiastically, as they fought over which morsel to eat next. There was plenty. It would last long enough. The woman went back inside.
Inside, her husband, Ara's father stood, surrounded by other men, mostly Stonewhistlings, but a few close friends beside that, all laughing and congratulatory. More distant relations were now drifting in outside the pavilion itself, to accompany the bridal party when it left the Stonewhistling Pavilion to what would become Ara's new home: Facetshine Pavilion, in the Clan Sapphire. Canterfoot stood patiently to the side, where a braidworker pulled long, intricate plaits into the mare's main and tail, weaving bits of shining stone.
Behind this, a cloth had been hung, blocking off the work of the women. Ara's stepmother slipped through the corner and the men hooted, playfully pretending to try to peek through the gap.
Inside the curtain, Aramenta stood atop stout crate, still, and quiet, as she was fussed over. Most of the women of the pavilion were crowded in, and of course, most were doing nothing whatsoever. Her grandmother sat propped carefully into a chair, her eyes awake and alert, but her body slack. Her youngest sister in law, barely a whisper above Ara's age sat to one side breastfeeding a child while she chattered noisily with some of the other girls. The Ankal's eldest wife, a stout, bluff-faced woman, stood before Ara delivering prolix advice.
Ara, for her part was standing with a blouse hanging round her shoulders, and her legs still bare, as two of the teenage daughters of the Ankal rubbed at them with smooth, shiny stones to liven the skin. Livvy stood behind her, pulling her hair up into its intricate brainwork, and humming, but very, very softly, a song too sad, perhaps for the occasion, but unnoticed in the general hubbub. She held a lace parasol, a gift from her lacemaking teacher, in one arm, and a pair of fine, doe-skin gloves, a gift from the Ankal's wife, in the other. A child of eight buffed ineffectually at her boots with a horsehair-brush - frankly, if the boots were to grow any shinier, at this point, they would have had to be transformed into polished stone.
The air was one of pleasure, excitement, the general enjoyment of spectacle.
----------
Meanwhile, at Facetshine, the pavilion itself was deserted but for a few lonely dogs and horses, and a few men preparing the wedding feast. The family, and a multitude of friends, acquaintances, hangers-on, and just those who saw the opportunity for inexpensive liquor all stood outside, milling about, chattering easily - the air of a Groom's once - and one already twice-wed - was much calmer, and most of the conversation was not about the wedding at all. Gossip about what would come of the meetings of the Clan heads. Pleasant exchanges over the weather. Jokes about the food.
The only man truly engrossed by the wedding itself was the groom, Pedrion Facetshine, who stood at the edge of the group, staring out over the grass toward the direction from which his new wife would approach. He hummed, softly, and found himself - between pleasant nods and gratitude at passing well-wishers - thinking, surprisingly, of his first wife, how she had ridden up on her chestnut mare. Raven-haired, and older than him. Thought of her lips, her hands, her shoulders, the way they had keyed together like a fit lock on their wedding night. He smiled wistfully. This new wife, though the Sea of Grass was unpredictable, she would likely far outlive him, for as long as he was alive, he'd keep her as safe as the Sea allowed. None of his first wives had been so small, so fragile. So young, too, but the youth did not strike him, then, not at that moment, and really not since the proposal, for when she had accepted, she had seemed, about the eyes, so old, older even than he was, and he was, he confessed to himself, no more a foal nor a colt. But young enough. The Ankal had spoken, had told the men how important it was to wed, and quickly. If these randy young bucks needed an example of that, Pedrion was more than willing to oblige, and he had in him, still, enough kick to breed children.
He chuckled at that, and checked on his Strider again, a great broad-backed beast. None of the dainty lacework, of course, that he assumed his wife's horse would bear, but a string of Sapphires, precious heirlooms of his pavilion, hung from the horn. and the pinto coat was curried to a shine. It would be a good wedding. Aramenta was a good girl, and the Stonewhistlings a respectable, and hardworking family. All would be well.
x
