*And Now… Angeline.

A fortnight before my wedding is not a lot of time to prepare in my old world.

Actually my mother would have likely have had a cooler head than most but others of our station would have panicked.

Weddings were huge social events and had a chance to show wealth and power and goods. They were as much business as they were pomp.

This, the whole Braithholder attitude towards this is perplexing to what would be normal but it is also a relief.

Word has spread of Lady Tatiana coming here to my wedding and that is...well all here have heard of her at the least and Bette has assured us along with the other dwarves that we should not do for the wedding any more than we were planning before the news.

Apparently in Dwarven lands she is famous and considered kin to King Wayland of their folk as well as kin to our own High King Boen.

She is also something called a Titan.

One of the original inhabitants of our world before the ships of the ancestors crashed here.

A race that gave most of our ancestors sanctuary and died because of us.

Well at least that’s the working theory back that far likely few know what really happened but even as much as I don’t understand people. I have no problems understanding that we did that.

Especially with home destroyed.

I’m not Elizabetha with her endless books and the curious wit to discover all things. Though this Titan race and meeting her intrigues me. She’s not human and human is all that I’ve ever known until coming here.

There is a lot that I’ve never known since coming here.

Like sex and intimacy.

Two closely held things but at the same time separate.

Wyatt.

I sigh and smile these days at the thought of him.

Sex is wonderful, different than the stories but still wonderful and it’s very fulfilling and I know that I am lucky in that. Many women folks have disappointing sex. Wyatt and I are very good in this regard and we are getting better.

I have never craved a man before until him. I have had small flickers of interest and more like growing up flickers of my womanhood taking hold but now that he and I have and are having sex it’s like a gate has opened.

This is not a maidenhead joke.

No, it’s this feeling, this whole thing about having someone and that it is alright that we are together.

Home of course this would be gossipped over endlessly since we’re not married yet.

Here people see it as we are in love.

And...and I think that I am.

And with that comes this ease.

Honesty too, we don’t have to banty about and say all of these things like in flirting and courtship which I’ve seen even people with other people do home. I am bad at flirting. I am bad at innuendos and those sort of things.

I like that we don’t have to do those things.

Oh there are words, there are even more physical cues with them.

He will say things and do things like slipping his arms around me and smelling me. He will be ready and stiff down there while doing it and he will kiss me more frequently when in his ardor. And Wyatt will say things like. “I find myself overcome by you.” or “Be with me truly.” He added the truly because I at my first instinct am literal enough that I miss the social cues for this and told him that “We are with each other.”

I love him because despite the fact that I don’t understand some of these things most of the time he does not judge me on it like others have.

I didn’t know how deeply that hurt me in my everyday life either living with this. Living with how I was treated, even if people home loved me. I was different and I was judged by that. Here it is so much less than that.

I love them for that.

Sometimes it is a simple as Wyatt smiling and me and shortening my name to “Angel.” with that handsome smile.

And he is good with me being as simple and straightforward as trying to say his name with the kindness and care I feel. Sometimes he is good with me touching his manhood when I wish for him to be with me.

Simple things.

And we very often make love every night, sometimes twice, sometimes again in the morning.

I did not know that men became ready in their sleep.

Wyatt reliably so.

What is in men’s minds while deeply aslumber that this happens?

And I am learning things in intimacy as he is as well.

He is not a man of experience or as much experience as some men claim and he doesn’t claim that he is a bedmaster.

I like that we make mistakes with each other.

I am learning to find meaning, deeper meaning in being together in being held and kissing.

That’s the intimacy part.

Wyatt likes being with me.

He doesn’t over explain things to me because I am a woman.

And most of what he does explain is Braithe history.

Age’s past when the fleets came here some of them landed and some of them crashed.

Braithe’s ancestors did both. One of their largest vessels crashed having been badly damaged in getting here and crashed into one of the glaciers in the area. The ships with that ship landed to rescue and some moved on while others were just lucky enough to land running out of fuel.

Elves lived in Stonewood then some as the plague of magic that changed it had not completely taken it over and through them contact was made with the Dwarves.

The Elves moved on after they helped people here while taking refuge with the humans from the Stonewood plague in between moving on to their islands where they live now.

And with The Stonewood plague came the monster races down there to our doors.

Legend tells of a great evil portal there that the Elves closed but it came at a huge price. Some say this was what created the spellplague that petrified the once elven forest.

Stonewood also is massive a whole forested nation so while they warred here they warred with The Dwarven Kingdoms.

Alliances were made and in time they found the under docks and they made the system that’s used now.

Which is stunning to realise that below that was Dwarven made.

As in the whole underground water system.

True mostly natural caves but they made tunnel canals and other things like aqueducts and pump cisterns to change elevation.

And once that happened trade made their lives a lot easier as Braithmen and Dwarf died for each other and fought for each other on each other’s soil and beneath it.

It was Dwarves that invented the battleknights.

A means for Dwarves to fight Trolls on better terms.

Braithhold was also part in designing them according to history and were the first humans to really get access to them.

And for that we became a building house, a mining house and smelting house.

Which is still what holds true these days.

We are part of the Kingdom Alliance because of this and because of the fleet that landed in Valhalla’s region where humanity made it’s cradle were part of the same fleet group and culture as the ships of Braithe.

We send battleknights to other houses that can afford them and it is a long, long process in building one. This is our income and this along with our defence of Stonewood is why we are part of things and paid well.

The Braithe arm of The Central Mountains extends north from the main part of the chain and divides Stonewood from The Great Fenn.

The great plateau of Valhalla sits almost opposite of our arm on the other side of The Stairs of The Gods which is a series of valleys mixed with tablelands.

There is a narrow region of mountains that Trolls and other creatures could easily pass without Braithe being there to guard it they would easily pass through and in large numbers enough to wipe out all the folks living in The Stairs and then descend on Valhalla and the Middle Kingdoms.

Yes that’s thousands of miles but they literally are trying to do that.

And Trolls with their allies could easily make bridges and other means of crossing the mountains.

If anything we are doubly important since the war with Blackhand.

The Great Fenn where he made his base Thornguard. It still holds terrors that he had summoned and beasts and monster races that fled our victory all those decades ago.

Stonewood is on one side of our northern arm of mountains and The Great Fenn is on the other. We are doing double duty here.

There’s a lot to learn.

Braithe is old.

We have a deep history here.

And this is a land of folk that have been doing this for generations.

The more I learn the more I am honored that my family arranged this marriage.

I love the history here.

I love the honor here from that history.

Knowing this background I see these people differently.

And with humor I understand why perhaps mother or father arranged this in other ways too. Their straightforwardness works well for me.

And the humorous side of this.

Wyatt is bad at his books.

It’s not that he does them wrong but he does them wrong a lot as he is doing them and balancing his books and his office, his actual office as king.

It is a mess.

Sally does the best she can and has done so for years but she has her own office and needs to be Chamberlain.

Wyatt has no head for figures.

And neither did his parents.

While doing well it is still a mess.

One that I am good with fixing.

I usually do not intrude into things like this but the third evening after sending off our messages from the Underboats and after we had eaten with everyone and spent the time with our folk and love making I was woken with Wyatt’s loud sigh of frustration.

I slipped from our bed and into my indoor boots. They are a large pair of clunky boots just easy enough to slip on without thinking of needing my hands and they’re lined with this soft fur.

The Holde is an old castle and it is very cold here especially with the floors.

There could be wood in here but wood burns and in times of attack we can’t have that.

I padded into the office slipping on my night shirt and saw Wyatt in his office which is a small side room and by outward appearances it looks neat but his desk, the notes, the scribbles on sheets before they go into the ledgers.

“Is everything alright?”

He looks at me. “Just doing the books, going over things is exhaustive.”

“Can I help?”

“Can you?”

I moved around him and I took a look at what he was doing and it started from there.

His grandfather went by order of when something was filed and this bad rotating system of pulling things out and moving them to the front.

And there was no sectionalization, and there was no leather file jackets.

And no filing cabinets in any proper sort just ones of categories with that rotating system.

Which made doing the ledgers hard.

Wyatt’s parents as well just added to the mess as they kept a lot of things on scraps of paper when it wasn’t official writs and the like.

I took over.

Wyatt just watched me on that night as my obsession kicked in.

I have to have things in order, in a logical way for me. If not it will actually make me uncomfortable in my head and in my chest.

I ended up taking out everything, everything and ordering it all in piles.

Wyatt brought me coffee. “Angeline...are you sure you want to do this, it’s all new and it looks.”

That made me smile. Wyatt is a king, he has his ways with his folks, he is a good man and lover and a good warrior. He looked distressed by this.

I looked up at him taking the leather jack of coffee and relishing in the drink that I’ve grown to love.

“This, this I can do Wyatt. I was doing this home. I’m...different, this...this soothes me even.”

He leaned down and kissed me. “It looks like a paper war.”

I kissed him back. “Everybody fights right?”

He gave me this sweet smile.

I never though someone would give me smiles like that.

“What do you need Majesty?”

“Paper, all we can get and leather file covers.”

“File covers?”

“Leather soft a foot tall, like book covers with a rivet on the back and front in the middle so I can wrap them shut with string.”

He nodded. “I can either find some or have some made.”

I nodded. “All we can have, plus I need glue and we need cabinets of drawers to fit those files.”

He smiled. “We’ll get started.”

He left and time slipped away from me as I got back into work.

Piles in order, older documents with years on them starting ten years back or more. Dwarven section, parts for battleknights, each of our shops, garden, kitchen, medical, office, paymaster, taxes, writs and contracts and so on.

Sally joined me in the morning as well as Kate for coffee and scones with jam that we took in the hall with the stacks of papers as Wyatt and the men installed sheet tin cabinets that they had painted with fireban and cured in our kilns rather than waste wood.

And then we went hard into it all that day as the file jackets came up from storage.

The master baker had some for his recipes and he had thought that some had been in the deep store caves down below.

We had them all along but Wyatt’s father had let them get slipped by in the disorder.

I was visibly upset enough at the thoughts of that and frustrated enough that Kate hauled me to drill and my fighting practice to work it all off and I had second breakfast with the Holdfolk in the main hearth room.

That’s when Wyatt pulled forth a Hold staff meeting and we started talking with them about the filing and asked them for ideas.

Then it was back to work after a two hour broken conversation as folk needed us in various ways. And the master baker and head cook both needed to do things.

But ideas were put forth and written down and The first thing Wyatt did was to go to the lower stores with a squad of men and some of the girls and went through everything.

I hear when people talk, when they whisper things of me.

I had to learn to live with it because of being odd.

Literal to the point of too literal, reserved because I do not understand social cues, reserved because when I do feel comfortable to open up with people I overshare. And usually don’t know when to stop until it’s too late.

I am not used to smiles, genuine smiles for me or hearing.

“Aye look, listen well that be a right proper Queen we have, raised by a right proper Queen, already takin counsel and putting tings t’rights.”

“Aye she gots my steel, she donna shirk.”

“Dinya hear what she tole King Wyatt when she was rightin the book works an all? She tole him Everybody fights.”

There were things like these I’d hear snippets of instead of the usual “odd duck.” or “not quite right.” and the one I hated most. “Special.”

I miss a lot of things socially but when you hear “Special.” in this fake pleasant way, that fake polite way all of your life you do recognize it.

I was not expecting or used to these positive voices.

I was not expecting him to come and get me. He showed up as I was putting thoughts to order on a wall slate. He slipped in and wrapped his arms around me. “There is more there than I thought. Come exploring with me?”

“You need my help?”

“I want your help. There’s things there Angel that look like from maybe even my great grandfather's time. Come exploring with me Angel, let’s have a sort of adventure.”

Gracia had adventures like this.

My mother had my father come to her to just want him with her because she was her.

“You want me to go with you? For real and true?”

“It would be a lot more fun with you Angeline.”

Me...fun?

I very nearly cried and I do not do that much.

I turned around in my arms and kissed with him.

“Yes, yes please Wyatt I would like that very much.”

He kissed with me again and again until we ended up closing and locking the office door to the outside and We made love on the desk like in one of Gracia’s “bodice ripper” books.

Wyatt makes me feel loved, and needed but wanted too.

And after I had cleaned myself and dressed he had gone to the kitchens and he brought a basket with us.

We had a picnic as we explored.

We were under Braithholde so that’s in the mountain or rather under it which was an adventure for me in of itself.

We had cellars but this, this is different.

Dwarven carved stairs and rooms. Caves turned into other things like storehouses over the years back and forth between the underboat area.

We had other with us and we did work and clean things.

But it was an adventure.

Discovering broken things stored until they could be fixed or used for something else.

We found parts for the Ray-dee-oh and it is spelled radio.

We found replacement parts and wiring for our electric and fittings for bulbs and spare bulbs. All waiting on a master of the electric but one had not come since the last one planned to come here over fifteen years ago died in a raid en route.

And they are rare enough we have not had one willing to come yet and so they were forgotten, shunted aside.

There was store of paper! Whole rolls like I had never seen and a dwarven device that was like a measuring board with a blade on it that you could lever down and slice it off as you needed it!

It sounds like a silly thing to be thrilled over but I had never seen such a thing and you can store so much paper on rolls like this. And this was book grade paper, thick and clean. It even smelled nice to me.

Even home this would have changed things, saved a lot of money.

We found candles, dwarven candles and some were even scented hundreds on hundreds of them.

And that is the room where we had our picnic once the room was cleaned and mostly cleared Wyatt and I lit many candles and ate our packed lunch and kissed and talked and kissed some more and that led to us getting to where we locked the doors and told the others to “just mind the hall.”

And we made love on a thin blanket on the hard stone floor but we did it sheltered in this private fort of crates and surrounded by a hundred lit candles setting the mood with the heady scents of good sweet beeswax and lemon balm.

Even with having made love in the office this moved us both for another time.

This was what young was supposed to be right? To feel passionately for someone?

I will love those smells and candlelight forever now.

To clean up we bathed at the underdocks.

Wyatt carried me down in his arms and most of our clothes in my arms and the picnic blanket wrapped around me.

He looked so proud to be doing that?

He looked proud of us being so open about it?

We were given our privacy from the workers there.

It was swimming far more than bathing and the water was actually wonderful. Cool but not chill but it was scary and it was deep.

Twenty eight feet at the edge of the pier.

Swimming with one arm was challenging another whole thing for me to try and get exhausted by.

Wyatt watched me and smiled and he tread water with me until I found my ways how to adjust my timing with my arms and yes, it’s not as effective but you can tread water still with a stump.

He did not do it for me.

He didn’t remotely treat me like I could not do this.

And I loved that.

I also faced my fears there of the darkness of that water, of the depth of the water.

See further out it gets deeper and it fades out into this shimmery blackness.

It is a big underground lake and that was scary.

And interesting finding out that we have fish here, mostly tiny minnow like fish but mudfish as well deep down at the bottom as well as snails and small crabs and the like.

And they don’t eat them.

Wyatt in fact looked at me oddly. “Eat mudfish?”

I nodded. “They’re fine for eating.”

“We’ve never.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “We don’t fish, not really we’re mountain folk it’s a rare thing.”

“We should start it will help out stores.”

“How do you know of fishing, Lyonnes is landlocked.”

“My brother Justin, he used to like to fish our rivers and streams rather than hunt and our village folk used to eat sucker fish. He developed a taste for it so some of the local rivermen would bring some by and Justin would make sure that we had a feed.”

“What are they like?”

“Boney but white fleshed, trout like in taste.”

“We’ll have to try some.”

“We can pot the crabs too maybe are they edible?”

“As far as I know yes.”

“We’ll have to look at how to do all of it. I know is crab pots are like crayfish pots and are basketlike.”

Wyatt laughed. “This has been an adventure my wife leading me to eating unknown wild things.”

We had fun and thankfully there is a ladder in the side of the stonework there so I could climb out.

We dried off and then went back to work in a good mood.

It was still work and we cleared rooms out and sent broken things to be torn apart that couldn’t be mended. Some things melted down, others could be used for parts and some might be used to carve or be whittled into other things.

And still there were oddities.

A palet of dwarven moss? Compacted and dark we had ask around and apparently it is for farming and adds to the soil. There were seeds to it as well and that was all interesting.

A palet of dried lentils from the southlands with no one here knowing what a lentil is.

In sealed ceramic urns and all still good.

Silk islander spiced dried plums.

We got laughs from each other at the faces as we went from salt to sour then to the spices blooming.

There were some other things like cloth and other foot things but some were past any point of return either rotten in a blackened and gooey way or to that dry and powdery way.

One thing with all of this as we cleared out rooms was that we had room.

We need better educated folk.

We just do, we need clerks and people to do things between departments.

So one of those caves carved into a warehouse will be a school.

And I started planning one.

And getting the offices up.

And planning my wedding.

There have been some battles but those were with the men, usually skirmishes or Goblins seeking to try and sneak past the manned walls to find a place for them to pass through in larger numbers.

We repelled them of course...thankfully.

It hasn’t been all office works that I have been doing either I’ve been learning of wounds and maps and our patrols and just more...the more I do and learn the more I see other needs.

I talk to my Holdfolk, I ask questions as I’m doing chores in my rotation as it’s been adjusted for my office work.

I train myself to be skilled in things that I would have never been skilled at.

Unarmed fighting and defence, using arms and armor, learning a small buckler on my stump arm.

Exercising.

And not just bed games with Wyatt, those they still continue.

And Wyatt...he keeps surprising me with things to learn and things to be intimate with me.

A lamp oil tin stove with us while he takes me out at night between the greater manned walls of our valley and the castle.

He makes coffee for us while we are stopped in a good place for me to learn how to use snowshoes and skis.

Making love in ice cold air with just furs under us and over us.

He teaches me to drive sleigh.

I am not good at that.

Steering and reins plays havoc with my anxiety.

We have weapons and there are guards not too close but not too far either so we have lots of privacy too but it is me and him spending close time together and just us.

And my wedding?

All of the local invitations have been sent to our vassals that might come if they are able. Letters have been sent out for the rest.

We are going to have it mostly to be official and mostly for the Holdfolk.

So we are planning a feast as much as we can with a lot of things coming in at the last moments when the next underboats come.

So it’s been business as usual with the exception of my dress.

Bette is making my dress.

And her name of Lacecrafter suits her well.

Three skirts of lace that are made to layer one isn’t true lace but a gauze her people make with lace added to it called Baby’s Breath like the flowers it comes from. The next is this hand made lace with all these framed diamond panels linked together and in the center of each is a bit of silk that is embroidered with holy thistles, horse heads, wheat buds and then the house symbol for Lyonnes. Which is our Lion Rampant with the crossed wheat sheaf and sword.

Over that will be my skirt for Braith like the one beneath but Wyatt’s mother’s skirting with Three Mountain peaks, A rose, A chess tower rook and The symbol for Braithe a roaring bear’s head with two crossed spears.

In Braith tradition a wife wears the skirting on her house under the one she is marrying into.

I have nothing from home so I will be wearing other things of his mothers. Her White leather breastplate that is built as much for protection as looks and is molded cuir bouilli.

It’s lacquered white and polished bright this rises to a high collar and is made with a built in corset and meant to help carry the weight of the skirting but it is to help carry the weight of her sword as well.

A short broadsword with deep engraving with the words.

“Everyone fights, nobody quits.”

She died with it in her hand and so did most women that have carried it.

The best thing of the skirting is it has snaps to remove it when I need to and it will have a dancing skirt for later that I can wear.

The veil is not a veil but a southlander style head cloth like hood that is much like a coif combined with a scarf it is all silk and embroidered with the Braithe symbols in this almost long holy collar drape style and sort of nun like affair.

The smiths are forging me a hand, a well made gauntlet to match all of what I’m wearing. To go with it a very big show to my house of a willow leaf shaped buckler shield in the colors of Lyonnes only instead of the lion rampant painted on it is raised cast nickel and polished shiny as are the sword and the wheat sheaf.

I tear up everytime I see it.

I cry for pride in my house, in my family and for the loss of my old home and cry for the love of my new one.

I was the eldest girl, an odd woman that was way too strange and literal and compared to Gracia plain and average. I couldn’t even discourse with anything close to the wit that mother and Elizabetha could with both being so socially clever picking up on social clues that might have well been invisible to me.

Are invisible to me.

I was looking forward to a spinsterhood which was not a bad thing by my perspective or a marriage of convenience to a man that would ignore me or treat me badly.
It would in most cases never have been a wedding with as much honor as this.

And I’m working hard.

In the office and with the dances and the heraldry.

And not just the heraldry here in the mountains there are families and clans with no title but here are just as important as any landed folks home.

And I use some of that paper we have here the extra that are rolls to go over our maps of the region and to make new ones, large ones that we can boast in the common hall and feast hall that will show our lands and the realm.

With markings and devices or whatever symbols that these non-houses use as well.

Then there’s the details of the feasts and the dancing, and shifting schedules to rotate the guards during the event so all can come and all can spend some time with the revels.

All of that was going on when we first started getting messenger Eagle from The Elves.

Elves.

I knew they were real and we have Dwarves here but it is still something else to know they are real and that they are involved in my family affairs.

Word from high King Boen and from Gracia herself as to her surviving and having spent time with The Elves and their ambassadors in The Capital but other things like the things with these other nobles and the priests of The Lord of Light.

And her jousting, of all oddities her jousting and taking men into her service like she’s father.

I read it all and over and over and I read it with Wyatt who spends time reading it as well and with the eagle we send her some monies quietly in the form of hard gold coin and some well cut stones from our reserves.

This I will say.

We make and build Battleknights here, we keep most and the best for our own but we still contract out and send them to other nobles. We are well off considering everything.

And considering my sister’s needs and that House Lyonnes has new lands and men of title under us, under Gracia we send monies.

Messenger Eagles are fast and hard to take down since they soar far from range of attacks and descend to where they need to be often before any foes know.

And then there’s more from Elizabetha.

Who has become Grandfather’s heir and has come into her own clashes with the nobles and factions out there and what seems like assassins sent to dethrone her as Lord Marshal or Lady Marshal.

It is still good to hear from her as well and we’re apparently the sole survivors.

I am glad that Elizabetha seems to have found herself loyal people and is in better straits than Gracia who is more or less trying to rebuild our house anew or to give it second life.

We exchange news back between the three of us and both will not be able to be here for my wedding, it is too soon and too far for them to travel and given everything that they are going through.

Our enemies seem to know things are going on as well.

Trolls have tried scaling up the cliffs from Stonewood twice now and Goblins and Wargs have been sighted in the remote and upper trails. Wyatt thinks they know that caravans will be coming for this and that they’re looking for death and plunder.

We do what we always do and send out patrols and we keep watch as best as we may.

The last thing I expected was on hearing that Lady Tatiana was coming and then seeing their large barge overburdened with people both humans and dwarves even some animals and…

Cargo...cargo in lifeboats with a svelte blonde young woman that looked like she was the exact copy of my aunt. Lady Aurora Blackhand.

She was leaning on a staff and we could see sphere’s of light floating in the air over the boats and cargo and what looked like glowing blue lines, no chains tied to all six of those boats and pulling them along behind the barge.

Magic.

I have seen it before but haven’t since she died and honestly I thought that it might have died with her.

Wyatt prepares to take people ashore and there looks like there was a battle and there are people hurt and injured badly and I go into what needs to be done first from things that I’ve been training and studying.

It was quite a while doing all of this and I lost track of people.

Until the sorceress was there beside me with a mug of hot coffee in each hand.

“You look good Angeline.”

“Aunt Aurora?”

She smiled and shook her head no. “Sadly not, I’m her daughter.”

“Oh... Well I didn’t know that you existed?”

“Neither did I.”

“Pardon?”

She looked me in the eyes and said. “I’m Princess Christiana Lyonnes and I am now your sister.”

I stared.

And stared and turned over it all in my head what she said and she waited patiently for me to come to my own conclusions.

“You said now.”

“I used to be your little brother Christian.”

“How?”

“I have no idea. Magic but nothing I’ve learned.”

“Magic….my brother is now my sister?”

She nodded slowly and kept looking me in the eyes.

“I swear by the gods and by my magic and my blood that I am your true sister Angeline.”

“So Mote?”

She nodded and floated a small knife from her robes and cut enough to bring forth some blood and she looked at it then me and said.

“I am Christiana Lyonnes your sister….so mote it be.”

There was that thing...that feeling when power went off that you couldn’t see and I knew it was truth because she wasn’t struck down by those powers.

Aunt Aurora taught me some lore, she said it would serve me well with coming to know others like her.

I thought she meant her collective of hedge witches she sheltered on our lands.

But this.

Everything was a little overwhelming and swam around and she steadied me.

“Easy, Easy, the baby.”

“Baby?”

She looked at me and nodded.

That is when I fainted.