A/N I disclaim the Princess bride references – couldn't resist. Also – I don't own The Inheritance cycle

Sorry it's a bit short especially after all this time, but it was always intended as a transition chapter

Chapter Two

He didn't come

In the month that they had left, Seren and Altair spent as much time as they physically could together. Although neither of them mentioned the wedding, other than indirect complaints about the difficulty that all the guests gave to finding secret places to meet, there was a new urgency about their relationship, in the tone of the words and the way they kissed.

They had briefly considered running away, but the warnings her father gave Seren were enough to stop her from venturing down that path. In the last few days before the wedding, it was even more evident that they could not avoid it, and whenever they were not being…intimate, Altair fell into brooding silences that even Seren's most alluring charms could not break.

Even so Seren couldn't help that hope that Altair would come to the wedding, even if it were just so she pretend it was him that she was marrying, not Nuallan.

He didn't come…she thought dumbly as she mouthed the words of the ceremony. She subtly felt the pendant that Altair had given her the night before, and was now resting between her collarbones, hidden beneath the dress. Two intertwined silver stars on a gossamer thin chain, identical to the one that Altair now wore, to represent them, the joke being that they were both named for stars. The grating voice of the priest then broke through her thoughts and forced her back to the present.

"Sewen? Do you take Nuallan?" He said, and she winced. Why did her father have to get the only clergyman in all of eastern Astolia who couldn't pronounce 'R's properly.

"Yes" she whispered, and although the priest raised his eyebrows, he didn't comment on her lack of ceremony.

"Vewy well. You may now kiss the bwide Lord Nuaran."

The Lord leant in to kiss his new bride on the lips and she nearly gagged at his fetid breath.

"Like that, little kitten?" He asked lecherously, and Seren had to hid a shudder. "There's plenty more where that came from…"

Luckily, the usher were leading every one through to where the wedding feast was laid out, and Seren was spared any more of her new husbands advances.

It was a good feast, she had to admit that, and she ate a little so as not to upset the servants – if she wanted any freedom in this new hell of hers, she need all the allies she could get, but even the cook's finest delicacies tasted like dust to Seren.

She would not let herself think of Altair, although she searched desperately to see him in the hall. It wasn't until much later, after she had forced herself to accept her new husband's drunken fumbles and he had staggered off to his own chamber, that she let her tears fall

Why didn't he come? Where is he?

Of course I couldn't go Altair thought as he downed his flagon. There was some appreciative applause from those watching – they were impressed at how much the seemingly slight magician had downed. It wasn't after he had had to pay after all – a few measly tricks and the drinks were on the house all night. At least when he drunk, the feeling of being separated from his loved one was numbed somewhat.

"You seem to be drowning your sorrows, young man." A bent old figure sat down opposite our hero, who glowered at him distrustfully.

There is just one though...I think. Altair stifled a hiccup as he realised he was about 5 flagons past his limits

"So…whatifiam?" The words came out as garbled slur. The old man gave a cackle.

"Woes of a woman, young sir?" Altair blinked as the man downed his own drink, displaying a surprising thirst for such an old man.

"Aye."

"Ah, women! So fickle with their wiles." The man smirked.

"NO!" Al drunkenly shouted, causing a few leery glances. "No. 'Ren is…I love her an' she loves me. S'not her fault. Her father's."

"Ah. A lady is she then, this love of yourn?"

Altair nodded, then immediately regretted it. The room seemed to be swaying.

"Don't suppose...no a man like yourself could surely think of way, what with your magic and all." The old man looked supiciously smug just then, and had Altair had his wits about him, would have noted that he looked a little too smug. But he did not. If he had, this tale might have had a very different twist.

"Tell me." Altair hissed, grabbing the man's arm in a vice grip.

"Very well, young one. I may know a spell that might help you. But we can't cast it here, the locals might not take it too good."

"All right."

As Altair stumbled behind the man, he couldn't help but think that She would tell him that he was a fool and reckless. But he shook it off.

She's not here now. And if this works it will be worth the risk.

It wasn't until the man suddenly straightened up, grinned maliciously and flung his hand out toward Altair that he realised he had been taken as an utter fool.

Oh GODS was his last conscious thought before crumpled to the ground. And then…nothing.

A/N Sorry to this story's follower, if you are still following. Inspiration just dried up on this story for a while, then tonight I think the cider gave me a nudge. Hehe. New readers, I bid you welcome! Don't forget to review it makes us author folk very happy - as you probably know.

Also, If you're also a Harry Potter fan, and you like next-gen stuff be sure to check out my fic, Scorpius Malfoy and the Very Strange Year, and if you like review that too! :D 'Til next time (hopefully not a matter of months this time)