Chapter 2: "When all this world was there for us"
Galador could not remember ever seeing his father's hall this full. Everywhere he looked there seemed to be people drinking, dancing, talking and just generally making merry. Nothing like a wedding to bring distant relatives and grasping opportunists out of the woodwork, he mused. Though, looking over to his smiling sister –radiant and beautiful as she danced in the arms of her new husband –it was not too difficult to see why so many people would want to share in her joy. Gilmith was popular and well loved; her sweet, if slightly shy, nature and sunny disposition endeared her to many people.
She was somewhat of a contrast to her brother in that regard. Like Gilmith, Galador himself had a considerate and easygoing nature, but unlike his sister, he was much wearier with his favour. Totally and unerringly devoted to his family and close circle of friends, it took a lot to gain Galador's trust and admittance to his inner circle.
As he stood for a few moments, observing the newlywed couple, it occurred to Galador that, even after a lengthy engagement, Istaeron was still not counted among that select group. Perhaps that would soon change. Galador liked Istaeron. He seemed a good man, and appeared to make Gilmith very happy. Only time would tell if he would make her a good husband though, and, for his sister's sake, Galador was not willing to put too much faith in his new brother-in-law just yet.
"She looks happy, does she not?"
Galador turned to see his father approach behind him. Despite Imrazôr's claims that he was in what he referred to as the 'winter years' of his life, his stature and bearing held testament to his proud and noble lineage. Both his mind and body were still strong and capable and his shining spirit still drew others to him like moths to a flame.
However, even Galador had to admit, when his father stood beside his ever beautiful and ageless wife as they did now, arm in arm, the years of Imrazôr's life seemed more marked on is appearance. Mithrellas never seemed to alter; always she looked fair and youthful, the wisdom of ages behind her eyes.
He nodded in answer to his father's question. "Yes, I believe she is."
"I admit," said Imrazôr, moving to stand beside his son, "I may have been a little unfair to them both, making them wait for such a long time, but I needed to ensure that Istaeron was a good match for her. She is my only daughter after all."
Mithrellas laid her free hand gently on her husband's forearm. "You acted out of concern for her, my beloved. Gilmith understands that, and she loves you all the more for it."
Imrazôr took hold of the hand she had placed on his arm and planted a brief kiss on her palm before turning to his son. "You will understand one day if you ever have daughters of your own."
Galador could not stop his eyes from briefly flickering to the other side of the room. "Ah, yes," Imrazôr smiled, noticing the recipient of his son's swift glance, "and why have you not yet asked the lovely Suiliel to dance?"
Galador looked away quickly, his voice somewhat brusque. "I am not in a good enough humour to dance at the moment I fear."
"Dearest." Mithrellas moved around to face her son, gently reaching out to take his hand. "Today is a day of joy and celebration. Leave your cares and duties for a short time. I would wish to see you smile." Her delicate face was filled with such tenderness that Galador could not help returning her gentle smile.
"Then, mother, to make you happy I shall claim my right as a brother to a dance with the bride." He quickly strode across the room to where his sister was finishing a dance with her husband, hoping that put an end to the subject.
"May I have the next dance?" he asked pleasantly as the couple turned towards him on his approach. "Of course, brother." Gilmith beamed, then, looking at her husband a little guiltily, asked, "You do not object, do you, Istaeron?"
"No, I believe I can part with you for one dance," said Istaeron lightly, turning to his brother-in-law. "After all, I have the delight of your sister's company for the rest of our long days together from now on, do I not?"
"Indeed you do." Galador nodded, not failing to notice the slightly possessive hold Istaeron now had on Gilmith's waist. The corners of his mouth to tilted up a little in amusement. Perhaps he would make her a good husband.
"I am surprised, brother," Gilmith said once they were dancing together. "You always profess to dislike dancing with me."
"I do?" Galador sounded amused.
"Last time you accused me of almost breaking your foot."
"And so you nearly did, sister, yet I observed none of your usual reticence for dancing when you were with your husband just now."
Gilmith blushed a little. "I do not feel as awkward when I dance with Istaeron. He makes me feel…" She sighed and shrugged lightly. "Oh, I do not have the words to describe it"
Galador grinned at the sight of his sister's embarrassment. His father was right; Gilmith's face was defused with joy and pleasure. His grin, however, promptly disappeared when said sister jabbed a finger abruptly into his forearm.
"And why," Gilmith accused, "are you dancing with me and not the fair Suiliel?" Her eyebrows arched in mock incredulity.
Galador attempted, not wholly successfully, to laugh with bewildered amusement. "Have married women nothing better to do than matchmake others?"
She frowned. "I would not know, I have not been married long enough to say. But truly, Galador –I know that you like her, and she clearly likes you in return. Why must you insist on being so fastidious?"
Galador could feel his temper rising. Why did she insist on pestering him? Had he not made his feelings clear on the matter? Taking in a swift breath to control his irritation, he opted for a look of slightly mocking derision. "As you have not yet been married a day, sister, you will forgive me if I do not ask you for advice on such matters." It had perhaps, come out a little harsher than he intended but she had backed him into a corner, so he could not take it back now.
Gilmith, observing the tense set of her brother's shoulders and vexed undercurrent of his tone, decided it would be better not to tease him further. She had only meant to jest but, despite his occasional appearance of aloofness and tight control, she could see that he was not as unaffected by Suiliel as he pretended to be. Why he should be so reticent and reluctant was a mystery to her. He was a very handsome and honourable man with not a little charm and a comfortable situation to offer. Most women would, and often did, fall all over themselves to gain his favour. She shook her head slightly in bewilderment. Still, there was no time to question him on it, as the dance was just coming to an end.
A warm hand settled on her waist; a low voice from behind her brushed past her ear, "I believe it is time for me to claim my wife back."
Gilmith could not prevent the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine as Istaeron spun her around into his arms. She was only vaguely aware of her brother slipping away, a wry smile on his face as he left the young couple together.
"Did you miss me?" Istaeron murmured against her temple, his arms holding her close.
Gilmith lifted her head and basked in the mesmerising gaze, his intense grey eyes searing deep into her soul, and was unable to keep herself from openly displaying the look of wonder that must surely have been evident on her face. He was so enthralling, strong and confident. Much more than she could ever have hoped to have and yet she doubted that she would ever have enough of him to satisfy her.
Nevertheless, she tried to add a hint of flippancy to her tone when she replied, "We have only been parted for one dance, my lord. Is that so long?"
"Precisely. Far too much time apart." A roguish smile lit his face. "I have waited so long for the right to have you in my arms, Gilmith," he whispered. "And I can promise you that I am not going to waste a single moment." He glanced across the room before spotting Imrazôr charming and entertaining many of the guests. "I believe our guests are well provided for in your father's care now, Gilmith." His eyes, dark and smouldering, became locked on her own with a captivating intensity. "I think is time we started our life together –as husband and wife."
Gilmith could do nothing but nod mutely as Istaeron took her hand and led her out of the hall. A shiver of delicious anticipation ran through her veins at the realisation that finally, terrifyingly, she was about to truly become this man's wife.