1874-08-01: Sokar-Tarris Wedding
1874-08-01: Sokar-Tarris Wedding
Summary: Brennart's and Bethany's wedding. (Backdated to better accommodate recent Sokar events)
Date: 08-01-1874
Related: All related to the marriage
NPCs: Unnamed priest officiant
Bethany  Brennart  Gauvain  Klaudea  Rowena  

The setting was a lovely apple orchard, it picked by the bride who wanted to honor her ‘uncle’, Lord Wulfred de Ufford. There was no real of division of where the guest were to stand and where the bride and groom would be, the only indication of separation being that the officiant chose a place to stand under the shade-dappled boughs of a particularly majestic apple tree.

Next to the officiant was Bethany who, as always, decided to not worry about tradition and instead do what would be more… her. Instead of a wedding gown she wore a set of gleaming ceremonial plate, the same armor she wore to her aunt’s wedding. Every inch shone, polished until the metal was mirror-like. She left the helm off, it nowhere to be seen for the special occasion, her hair instead allowed to be left down and brushed straight, the red contrasting with the green and black cloak that had been attached to her palandrons. A simple, unadorned short sword sat sheathed, hanging from her hip.

Looking in the direction the groom was expected to arrive in, Beth smiled, not a sign of nerves or hesitation to be found upon her face.

Brenn finally arrives to the wedding. It’s not that he’s late it’s because he’s going to become a Tarris he’s the one that has to walk up the aisle. He’s dressed up in his polished plate armor spurs spinning as he walks and a fancy broadsword at his hip. Across his shoulders is a cloak with the Sokar colors and his helmet is left off and his hair is slicked back for now.

Bethany couldn’t help but to beam as she watched the groom approach, her heart very much on her sleeve. Once he’s beside her she leans in to peck him on the cheek and to give a compliment on his looks.

The officiant started the ceremony as is typical for the region, talking about love and how it has the power to bring two houses together and how it can overcome anything. Going on for a good few minutes, the speech ended with the older man asking if there are any objections to the union.

“There better not be any,” Bethany said while looking at the crowd from over her shoulder, smirking. It was a joke but still, a few nervous chuckles could be heard from the assembled guests. Not hearing anything from the guests, Bethany turned back around and nodded once, encouraging the priest to continue.

Brenn stands there and smiles a bit as Bethany gives him a peck on the cheek he whispers something back into her ear. And as the ceremony goes on his smile gets a bit brighter. Then the part about any objections and Brenn looks around nervously expecting a Sokar or Tarris to speak up about it.

Thankfully, if there were any objections they seem to be kept spoken under breath, meaning the wedding would go on without blood shed.

The ceremony went on, first with a bit more orating by the priest, and then the exchanging of the vows. Bethany’s were short but sweet, very heartfelt. She spoke of the times Brennart and her fought side by side, the bad and the good and how she came to love him.

As the ceremony comes to a close Brenn looks over at Bethany for the vows and smiles some as he gives his vows speaking of how he’d first met Bethany and the way her beauty stole his breath away from the start. And how despite the /small/ friction between their houses things grew and bloomed into an amazing love.

The exchange of rings and the changing of the cloak occurs before the priest announces that Brennart and Bethany are officially wed, inviting the happy couple to kiss. The newly-wedded couple then began their walk towards where the party will be held.

Smooches and smooches and smooches and then runs off with the bride.

For the entirety of the ceremony, one man stood watching. He had his arms folded over his chest that was, for once, not armored. Apparently, the Bride and Groom were preparing for battle, and it was something he knew nothing about. Love? Yes. Marriage? No. Instead, he wore a simple dark green tunic the cuffs tied with simple black woven string and black trousers that end in a simple if highly polished cavalry boots. A light silver circlet adorns his head with a rose gold diamond on his brow.

He looks casually to the side when an arm weaves itself into his and a head rests on his shoulder. She wears a cloak, with the hood up to disguise her in case somebody spares a moment to look their way. Her voice comes soft, "I'm sorry we never could."

Gauvain shakes his head to the woman. "I've loved twice, each time duty prevents me from marrying whom I want. I'm only glad my daughter and son could."

The hooded figure takes Gauvain's chin and kisses him lightly. She pulls away and looks to the ground. "Not just your duty my love. Be well. y duty continues."

Gauvain squeezes her hand once and watches her leave for a moment before he returns his attention to the wedding. He smiles happily. His children had chosen whom to marry and found happiness. They were happy. He nods once. All the wars. All the battles. Everything he sacrificed. This made it worth it. He clapped when the ceremony was over along with the rest of the guests. He smiles as Bethany comes down the aisle with her husband and he bows his head to her. A sign to show both respect, and love.


The shining armor is simple, serviceable, and lovingly cared for. The surcoat over is red, with the white cross, marking the young woman with brown hair half pulled back and left to tumble down in curls almost to her waist as Reliant, and most likely a wandering one at that. Sir Klaudea Glynn Blackstone watches the two with a broad smile that she doesn't try to hide, her eyes shining although she manages not to stray from her knightly demeanor into tears. She's moved slightly to the side of the gathering, as her lack of height made it difficult to see over others, so she's not close enough to the 'aisle' to be seen by the happy couple as they leave their 'altar'. So, she puts two fingers in her mouth and adds a joyful, piercing, whistle to the applause. When a couple of glances are cast in her direction, her hands quickly lower back to the more acceptable form of joy, clapping together as if she wouldn't even /think/ about doing anything else.


There were few things that rose to the level of actually coaxing Rowena to leave her ship. But a wedding? And not just any wedding but this wedding? That definitely qualified. She had even dressed for the occasion. A light summer dress, a pale new leaf green, worked through with fine embroider in glimmering silver thread. Cousin Brennart and Bethany deserved nothing less than the finest in all things. And that included a cousin who, for a wonder, was not attempting to embarrass them with her practical ways. None of that showed in Rowena's carriage though, only joy at the occasion. That joy rose to the level of laughter, soft, and hidden by a hand that covered her mouth as she saw Bethany walking down along the aisle. Looking both entirely radiant…and entirely Bethany. Save for that laughter, she gave no other untoward response, as she watched the ceremony, listened to the exchange of vows, and witnessed the joining of two who had taken their long, hard road to happiness dash off into, not the sunset, but into the dawn of something brighter and better.

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