The wedding was, as promised, both small and informal. It took place in a small chantry that was part of the castle itself, a place more for the private devotions of the royal family than for large celebrations. Those attending were few; a priest to marry the couple, a pair of noblemen and a merchant from the city as the official witnesses, and a handful of other guests, including Fenris, Anders, and Feynriel. They stood near the back, so as not to draw too much attention to themselves, Anders in particular being leery of the proximity of a priest.
It was a short ceremony, simply performed, no grand thing; the same sort of wedding ceremony as would have been performed for any commoner seeking marriage. The priest talked briefly, then Sebastian and Marian joined hands, and the priest bound their hands together with a length of ribbon, then censed the pair while chanting. A final few words, and the two each took hold of a loop of the complex knot holding the ribbon tied, and pulled. The ribbon slid smoothly apart; they smiled, and kissed, a very brief and dry kiss. And that was that.
Sebastian thanked those gathered for attending, Marian holding onto his arm and smiling warmly up at him while he spoke, then the group of them left the chapel. The two mages retreated to Fenris' room, feeling it too risky to attend the small reception that followed the ceremony. Fenris attended, and whispered their best wishes in Marian's ear under cover of kissing her cheek. She flushed prettily, looking pleased, after which he exchanged a forearm-clasp and a brief hug with Sebastian.
The meal was reasonably pleasant, but Fenris was still relieved when it was over and he, too, could retreat to his rooms. He found Anders and Feynriel still eating their own dinner, the same food as had been served at the reception, and joined them at the table, pouring a glass of wine for himself.
"Well... are both of you ready to depart tomorrow?" he asked. "If we don't leave then, it's another two days before the next riverboat is due to depart."
"I'm ready," Feynriel said. "Everything is packed, I just have a couple of things left out that I'll be using between now and tomorrow."
Anders nodded in agreement. They spent a quiet evening in Fenris' rooms, he and Feynriel discussing their planned route, Anders sitting back and listening intently, and sometimes nodding or shaking his head. They retired to bed early, all three wanting to be on their way at last.
As much as he cared for both Sebastian and Marian, and as many times as he had come to visit for some little while in Starkhaven – to the point that he did think of it, as much as any place now, as 'home' – it felt like a weight lifting off of his shoulders as the river carried their boat downstream and away from the city. He leaned on the aft rail a little way from the steersman, watching it recede out of sight as the river curved away to the north.
Anders stood nearby, watching the city as well. In his plain clothing and the wide-brimmed floppy hat that he wore pulled down low to hide his marked forehead he looked like some peasant farmer. Only his gnarled hands gave him away; the nails clean and neatly trimmed, the fingers still stained with ink from some writing he'd been doing before they left that morning. Not a farmer's hands. He turned away, after a couple of minutes, walking to the front of the ship to watch in the direction they were going instead. Fenris remained where he was, until Starkhaven could no longer be seen.
The riverboat had no cabins; passengers merely rented deck space, for however long they wished to travel. The three of them had picked out a spot aft of low cabin that the crew shared, out of the way of foot-traffic; they'd marked out the space with their gear, stacking it along the cabin wall. Feynriel was sitting there now, back braced against the wall, chewing on his lip as he scribbled away in his journal. Fenris walked over and sat down against the wall as well, enjoying the warm sunlight. Desk passage was not always this enjoyable; it could be downright miserable, in rainy weather. But right now it was pleasant to just sit quietly in the sun, and watch the crew at work.
It was a family-owned riverboat, as most of them were – a pair of brothers, one of their wives, a handful of the oldest children, a couple of other crew members who might be hired hands or might be some sort of relation to the rest. He had travelled the river enough times over the years to be known to a number of the families; he hadn't travelled with this particular set of them before, but they still knew of him.
"You went with my cousin Tomas and his wife two years ago, in the fall – upriver toward Nevarra City," the wife had told him when he was arranging passage for the three of them that morning. "Said you was right handy with that sword, the one time a crew of river-rats tried to board them in that wild stretch beyond Hasmal."
Fenris nodded. "I recall the trip. The wife, Mairi, she hit one of them over the head with her frying pan."
The woman grinned, a gap-toothed smile. "That she did. Killed him, too. We'll be glad to have you aboard, especially if there's any trouble."
Which there shouldn't be; problems on the river were usually rare, that western trip having been an exception. The Minanter carried much of the produce and freight in the Free Marches; the small countries and large city-states along it were therefor pretty ruthless when it came to eliminating those who tried to disrupt or prey on the river boat traffic.
Anders came back and joined the two of them after a while, apparently having had his fill of watching the landscape go by. He lay down, head propped up on his bedroll and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Within a surprisingly short time, faint whistling snores were emerging from under his hat. Fenris and Feynriel exchanged an amused look over his head.
"I believe I'll do the same," Feynriel said, and wiped his pen clean, then put away it, his ink, and his journal, and stretched out as well.
Fenris did not nap; he remained awake, watching the river.