Four: In Which There Are Enchantments, Disenchantments, and a Wedding

The morning of Morwen and Telemain's wedding, the sun rose behind a thick veil of clouds with a train of mist and drizzle, decorating the tree branches with dewy pearls. As far as the bride and groom were concerned, it could not have been a more beautiful day.

The wedding venue had the look of a grandiose fair thanks to the immense pavilion tent that had been raised in its centre. Several dragons had arrived just after dawn to help raise the massive poles that held it up. Covered walkways radiated out from the tent like wheel spokes so that guests could make their way out of the woods to the tent with minimal exposure to the elements. Morwen and Telemain were there early–still in their everyday attire–doing final checks to ensure no lingering enchantments remained in the area.

They had spent most of the day before making preparations for Alfred's disenchantment so it came almost as a surprise to Morwen when she realized it was time to prepare for the actual wedding ceremony. Tucked away in a private tent apart from the crowd of guests, Morwen was smoothing out the folds of her dress and running through her mental checklist when Cimorene caught up with her. Cass and Sass, who'd been keeping watch on the door, announced her just before she appeared.

"Morwen," Cimorene said, smiling as she pushed back the tent flap and saw her there. "Oh, look at you." And for a moment Cimorene stood and did just that.

Morwen's gown was much like her everyday black robes except that it was white and trimmed with gold. As a special allowance for the occasion she had let her hair hang down around her shoulders in ginger waves. A wreath of white apple blossoms, from her own garden naturally, rested on her head, filling the air around her with their fragrance.

"It's good to see you, Cimorene."

"You too. I've been wanting to stop by to visit but things have been so busy at the castle."

Morwen nodded. "I'm not surprised. The forest has been without a king and queen for a long time. Where is Mendanbar by the way?"

"He wanted to talk to Telemain before things got started. Something about the weather..." Cimorene frowned and shook her head. And then, a sly smile quirking her lips, "You know, he's still surprised about this wedding."

Morwen raised an eyebrow. "Is he?"

"He said–" And here Cimorene tilted the diadem on her head to a rakish angle like Mendanbar's and performed her finest imitation of her husband. "One minute they're arguing and the next they're getting married."

Adjusting her glasses allowed Morwen to avoid Cimorene's eyes for a few moments. "There were some parts in between."

Cimorene laughed. "I'm sure there were. Besides, I told him you were just cross with Telemain because you were worried."

And that, Morwen had to admit, was entirely accurate. Watching a wizard skewer him with a "plain sword" as Telemain himself put it, had not been good for her nerves. She really could have done without that bit of drama. "He did give me a scare."

"I understand." Cimorene patted her hand in a motherly fashion and Morwen was momentarily reminded that the Cimorene who stood before her now was not the same young woman who had left the forest more than a decade and a half ago.

"You aren't surprised," Morwen observed.

"No, not really." Shaking her head, Cimorene appeared thoughtful for a moment. "When Mendanbar told me about what happened–about Telemain getting hurt in the battle–it reminded me of something, something I hadn't thought about in a long time. Do you remember when we travelled through the Smoky Swamp?"

"How could I forget?" She brushed at the sleeves of her dress as if wiping away flecks of mud. "I've never been quite so muddy in my life."

"Neither have I," Cimorene agreed wryly. "But the whole time, you were so focussed on getting Telemain somewhere he could recover. You barged into Brandel's tower just to get Telemain a place to rest. And it wasn't until he was safe and settled that you were willing to discuss anything else." She paused and took a deep breath. "I remember being so impatient because the whole time I was worried about Mendanbar. I was so worried that I couldn't think about anything else. But then I realized that... it was the same for you."

"He does make a nuisance of himself sometimes," Morwen said, adjusting her glasses once more. Back then, if pressed, she would not have called it love. She would have used some more innocuous word–affection, friendship, fondness–even if none of these seemed to be a perfect fit, like an undersized blanket that left your toes poking out. But she and Telemain had known each other for so long; there was little use in trying to identify the moment their feelings had crossed some nebulous threshold. What mattered was that they'd finally agreed to do something about it.

"Has he seen you yet?" Cimorene said, taking Morwen's hands in hers, girlish once more.

"Of course. We've been here for hours, overseeing the preparations."

Cimorene rolled her eyes. "I mean has he seen you like this?"

Sass, still hovering in the doorway, thwapped her tail against the ground. "Not that he'd even notice."

Morwen gave the cat a disapproving look. "That's enough of that."

Glancing from Morwen to the cat, Cimorene appeared curious. "The cats haven't adjusted to the idea yet?"

"Not quite."

Before she could elaborate, Cass approached and rubbed herself on Morwen's ankles. "Your magician is coming."

"Morwen?" Telemain called from outside.

"Yes?"

No sooner had he pushed open the tent flap than words were pouring out of him in a rush. "I think we may need to adjust a few elements of the spell to compensate for–" He broke off and stopped, staring at her. "Oh." For several moments he said nothing at all, and his speechlessness made something in Morwen's stomach flutter. He stepped forward then and took her hands just as Cimorene had a minute before. "I don't think I've seen you in anything but black since... Since we were children. You look lovely."

He himself was in a dark blue tunic that brought out the colour of his eyes. Silver buttons studded the sleeves and collar, and matched the silver belt buckle at his waist. Because it was a special occasion, he had dispensed with the vest bulging full of magical contraptions and his belt with its many pouches and sheaths. "I didn't think you owned anything that wasn't black or grey."

He glanced down at the blue tunic. "I don't. I had it especially tailored for the wedding."

"Well," she said, reaching up to adjust his collar, "you look very handsome."

They both turned at the sound of Cimorene's voice. "What's this about a spell?"

Telemain appeared surprised as if he'd not even registered her presence. "Oh, hello, Cimorene. We've been–" A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Having trouble with the weather."

And before Cimorene could ask, Morwen jumped in with, "It's a long story. We'll have to fill you in later. Now what's this about adjustments?"

#

The wedding party was decidedly royal, consisting of the Queen of the Enchanted Forest and the King of the dragons as matrons of honour, the King of the Enchanted Forest as best man, the Prince of Almeria as a slouching groomsman, and a long train of sulking cats. As they walked beneath the shade of the cream-coloured pavilion roof, the gentle patter of rain became the rushing torrent of an impressive downpour. But Telemain hardly noticed the change; his gaze was fixed on Morwen, his considerable powers of observation focussed on taking in every detail and committing them perfectly to memory.

Hair down and dressed in white robes instead of her habitual black, this Morwen was a far cry from her practical, everyday self. Morwen had never, as a rule, been very expressive. She was staid and sensible, not one for grandiose shows of emotion, so the broad smile she wore as she walked towards him spoke volumes. And all he'd had to do was show up.

She joined him at the front of the assembly and he found himself smiling as well–a little foolishly, he suspected. But it was his wedding day and surely that was to be expected. Their eyes met and she gave a little nod, which he returned, and then they turned to face the assembled guests.

"Thank you all for coming today," Morwen said. "We have had a slight change in plans for the day." This caused some murmurs from the crowd and Telemain did not miss the way Morwen's lips twitched with suppressed amusement. "During the course of the ceremony we'll be performing a disenchantment."

Here, Telemain stepped forward. "We'd appreciate it if everyone would refrain from employing any competing enchantments as these could destabilize the–"

"Telemain," Morwen said under her breath.

He glanced at her and then back at the assembly. "That is to say... please don't cast any spells during the ceremony as they could... interfere."

The crowd murmured a little more and then settled down. After all, this was a wedding between a magician and a witch; certain irregularities were to be expected.

With the announcements concluded, Telemain and Morwen set about making preparations. Morwen pulled a pouch out of her sleeve and began emptying its contents–an ashy, grey powder–onto the ground, forming three quarters of a circle. They had spent several hours yesterday in his new workroom, preparing this element. It had required a precise combination of plants, some fresh from Morwen's garden and others in dried form from their combined storerooms, along with a lock of hair from each of them and then mixed and heated until reduced to charcoal. Together, they stepped into the circle, and only then did Morwen complete it with the remainder of the ash. After that, they joined hands and faced forward, signalling the start of the wedding ceremony proper.

Telemain found himself quite distracted during the proceedings. He could feel a tingling in the tips of his fingers and in his belly, and he was uncertain how much was nerves and how much was the spell. The disenchantment they were attempting to perform for Alfred was new to them both. The purpose of a binding ritual and its extensive preparations was to synchronise the users' magical frequencies. For those who worked with vastly different wavelengths, the process could be lengthy and exhausting. Like personal compatibility, magical compatibility was not an everyday occurrence. However, a wedding ceremony like theirs involved a conscious decision by the participants to reach a middle ground of compatibility. That very fact made it much easier to bring their magical frequencies into synch as well.

The tingling sensation in his fingers had definitely increased, almost like static, but without the pinprick of pain that normally accompanied a shock. Any worry that he was the only one experiencing the phenomenon, was erased when Morwen squeezed his fingers more tightly. She cast him a sideways glance, lips thinned to a line as if she were a little nervous herself. He caught her eye and winked. Her lips twitched into a tiny smile.

Most of the ceremony was a blur to Telemain. It was with a start that he realized Morwen was moving, turning to face him, which meant it was time to complete the ritual. It was the most delicate part of the procedure and either it would allow their magical frequencies to fully synchronize and combine into one spell... or all the magical energy they had gathered so far would dissipate and the attempt would fail.

Facing each other inside the circle they joined hands. The tingling transferred from his right hand to his left. He gave a nod, which she returned, and then he let go of her other hand. Morwen removed something from her sleeve, a length of gnarled green vine. She wound it around their joined hands and then held it there as Telemain, with only his right hand, clumsily knotted the vine so it would remain in place. They had had to practice this for upwards of an hour yesterday to ensure they could do it properly–tying magical knots one-handed was no mean feat.

They joined hands again and this time it was like a shock, rippling up and down his arm. Their eyes met and locked.

As planned, it was Morwen who began.

"From there to here.

From far to near.

From apart to together.

From sometimes to forever."

And, hands still clasped, eyes still locked with hers, Telemain completed the spell.

"Like the sinews of this vine,

With its power to entwine,

As I am yours, so you are mine."

The moment the words were out of his mouth, he could feel the swell of magic around them. The vine binding their hands began to glow with a golden light that felt warm against his bare skin.

"Prince Alfred," they said together. Just as he'd been instructed, the prince came to the edge of the circle of ash. His skin was pale and his eyes kept darting to the glowing vine as if it were a snake he feared would lash out and bite him. Moving in unison, Morwen and Telemain released their unbound hands and placed them on Alfred so that they each clasped one of his shoulders. Together they spoke the words of the final spell:

"Rain and sleet and hail and snow,

From his form, away you go.

All things that come down from the sky

Be on your way and leave him dry."

With a sudden burst of light, the magic gathered around the vine shot through them and into Alfred. Instantly, the vine crumbled, freeing their hands. Which was excellent because then Telemain was free to wrap his arms around Morwen and kiss her.

And because Telemain was so busy kissing Morwen, it was some time before he noticed that it had stopped raining.

#

Now that the sun had come out, the dragons moved from under the cover of the pavilion into the open field where there was more space for them to stretch out. The guests served themselves from tables laid out with plates and bowls of food, and an elfin orchestra began playing music for dancing. And Telemain was eager to dance, just as they had at Mendanbar and Cimorene's wedding all those years ago. That was, if he could ever disengage himself from Prince Alfred.

"I cannot thank you enough times," the Prince was saying. For the sixth time–Telemain had kept count. "You have my eternal gratitude. Are you sure you won't accept one of the baronies I'm entitled to? It's a lovely little corner of Almeria. There are orchards and vineyards, and hardly any giants at all."

Telemain shook his head. "I'm positive that neither of us is interested in the distractions and responsibilities inherent in taking possession of a barony. And we're already very well settled here in the forest."

"If you insist," Alfred said. He pushed back the drooping feather of his cap. "But if you ever require a favour of me, you have only to ask."

"Thank you," Telemain said, but already his attention had wandered back to Morwen. She stood a few paces away, talking to Kazul, who was stretched out in the grass outside the pavilion, with only her head now beneath the cover of the tent. The sunshine made her scales glint like jewels, and several cats were perched on her back and tail. Shiara had come with Kazul from the Mountains of Morning and she and Daystar stood together to one side of the dragon.

"He's very lucky to have you," Kazul was saying to Morwen. And with that, Telemain certainly agreed.

"I think you're the only one who would have him," Shiara said.

"Shiara!" Daystar said, sounding scandalized and glancing in Telemain's direction to see if he'd heard. Telemain laughed.

He moved to join them and clasped Morwen's hand. "That is most likely an accurate observation."

Morwen intertwined her fingers with his. "It's just as well since he's the only one I'd have in any case."

That answer filled him with gratitude and happiness that tingled almost as much as the spell had. Over the years, they had parted ways so many times, but each time they found each other again, they grew a little closer. All of those meetings and partings and meeting-agains had intertwined their lives, binding them into a knot as beautiful as it was complex.

"Do you have plans?" Kazul said.

Telemain smiled and looked at Morwen. They would dance and eat and talk with friends and accept their good wishes. And then, when the day was wearing away, they would go home together, spend the night together, and wake up together. She would remind him to eat when he became too absorbed by his work, and he would remind her to come out with him and see all the wonders waiting to be investigated and understood and enjoyed. Yes, they most definitely had plans.

Morwen was smiling back at him and, as if reading his mind, she replied, "Yes, we do."

The End