Braelyn returned to Goldshire to prepare for her wedding and discovered just how much her life had already changed. To begin with, Varian insisted she fly home rather than walk, as he thought the roads too dangerous. Then she found out that the guards that had accompanied her on the journey were now permanent additions to her life.

Braelyn sighed in frustration. She was a hunter. How could she hunt properly with half a dozen plate-armor-wearing people following her around? Short answer; she couldn't.

She couldn't even busy herself with the training of other hunters. Every single client she'd had refused to use her again. Apparently it was inappropriate for the future Queen of Stormwind to engage in such work, and they did not want to encourage her.

Chelinka, who by some awful twist of fate, had decided to stay in Goldshire until the 'happy event', told her that if she needed some hobby to keep her busy, she could always take up embroidery. It would suit her new life perfectly. She then laughed her arse off at Braelyn's expression of disgust.

She did not laugh long. It's hard to giggle when you're running for your life, and Bitey was intent on living up to his name.

But the worst change of all them, was the way in which people treated her. Braelyn wasn't even married yet and people were already treating her like a royal. They bowed and curtsied, tipped their hats, and called her 'Your Highness' or 'Milady'. Some of the children followed her around with expressions of awe on their little faces.

Braelyn hated it.

Even her family were a little more formal with her at first, as if uncertain about how to deal with having the king's bride in their midst. At least, they were until she started yelling at them.

She saw Varian and Anduin every week. She was growing more attached to the young priest, who was so open and loving that she could not believe he was the king's son. Varian always treated her with respect, but he was so hard to read, and seemed unwilling to share anything of himself with her. It was difficult for Braelyn to understand, especially when she was trying to honour her promise to her mother by opening herself up to him.

During one of her visits, she caught sight of Jack following her. He was standing near one of the bridges over the canal, just staring at her. The look in his eyes disturbed Braelyn. She had trouble identifying it, but it seemed almost desperate. She couldn't help feeling that perhaps his plan had gone awry; that when he told her about Rommath and Denaria, his intent had been to drive her back into his arms, not further into the king's.

Braelyn was afraid of him, and what that quiet desperation would drive him to do.

Varian had seen him, too, and had tightened a protective arm around Braelyn. The look he sent Jack made the rogue leave the area at once, and Braelyn found herself leaning into the king and sighing with relief.

"You do not need to fear him," Varian said softly. "I will keep him far from you."

But Braelyn was far from reassured.

Braelyn felt the weight of her wedding dress pulling her down as her mother and cousin adjusted her skirt and latched all the little pearl buttons along her back. If she had had her way, her dress would have been elegant and simple, not this river of silk and lace, with its long sleeves and metre-long train. The high neck of the gown was delicate, but it still contributed to the feeling of suffocation threatening to overwhelm her.*

Odariah's dress, made of white silk and crystals, was much more to her taste.

Braelyn thought wistfully of all the brides out there that greeted their wedding day with nervous excitement, wishing she could be one of them. But she wasn't excited, and nervous was too weak an adjective to describe her current state.

Braelyn was terrified out of her mind.

"Mum, Mum," she whispered, "I don't think I can do this." Panic surged through her body, and the urge to run, to throw herself out of the window to make a mad dash for freedom, was difficult to resist.

"I know, Sweetie, I know," her mother replied, rubbing her back. "But it's too late to change anything, now. I wish I could spare you this fear, but I can't. You just need to fight through it, Braelyn."

Odariah came over and handed her a glass of whisky. "Orc courage," she said, a worried look marring her face when she saw how hard Braelyn's hand was shaking. "Be at peace, Braelyn. The light is with you, and you will make one badass Queen!"

Braelyn managed a weak grin. "I appreciate your confidence, cousin," she said, "but that isn't what I am afraid of for a change."

"What do you mean?" her mother asked as she attached Braelyn's tiara. It was a beautiful creation of gold, diamonds, and pearls, and even though Braelyn knew it wasn't, it felt heavy on her head.

"What if something terrible happens?" Braelyn blurted, almost spilling whisky on her dress. Odariah snatched the glass away. "What if someone kills Varian or Anduin? Or both of them? What if you and dad and Odariah and Andorien all die, too?" She was on the verge of hyperventilating now. "It will be my fault! My fault because I did something stupid and got caught and then Jack found out and I got drunk and kissed the king and forced him into marrying me."

"Braelyn," Odariah said as she attempted to soothe her distraught cousin. "Do not be... "

"I don't want Varian to die!" she yelled. "It'll be my fault and everyone will hate me and Anduin will... "

*CRACK*

Braelyn's terrified rant came to an abrupt end when her mother slapped her. "Braelyn Hawke!" her mother bellowed. "You will calm yourself this instant! There are armies from all corners of Azeroth here today, and they will keep as all safe."

Braelyn stared blankly at her mother for a few seconds, then shook her head. "I,uh... thanks, Mum. I feel better now."

"Good, because it's time to go."

Braelyn walked to the Cathedral of Light on her father's arm. She was still jittery, still felt the panic in her mind, but did her best to look as much like a happy bride as she could. The streets of Stormwind were crowded with onlookers eager to get a glimpse of the bridal party in all their glory, and Braelyn thought they deserved a smile and a wave. For many of them, the celebrations were the only form of entertainment they got to indulge in.

"You look beautiful, pumpkin," he father told her as they made their way into the Cathedral. "I love you, always remember that."

"Thanks, Dad," Braelyn said. Her voice was barely more than a whisper now, and she felt a slight tremor in her hands.

The cathedral was full, and Braelyn hated that most of the people were unfamiliar to her. She was uncomfortably aware of every one of their faces turning to stare at her as she walked down the aisle.

"Ignore them," her father whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Just look at the king, Sweetie."

Braelyn did so, and was captivated by Varian's bright blue eyes. He was not smiling, but his face was relaxed, and less harsh than usual. When she reached the altar, her father transferred her hand to Varian, and then lifted her veil back over her head.

Varian's hand was warm and steady around hers. She glanced down to see his strong fingers intertwined with her smaller ones. She looked back at the king, allowing him to see some of the fear she was experiencing. His thumb moved across the back of her hand, a soft, comforting caress.

And Braelyn was afraid no longer.

The ceremony was a blur. Varian could remember little of what was said, of what he promised to do. For all he knew, he had just sworn to spend every Tuesday evening dancing naked in Old Town.

There were three things he did remember; he remembered the moment he saw her standing at the end of the aisle, buried in a mountain of white fabric, her pretty face obscured by a veil. He recalled hearing their guests erupt into cheers of "Long live the king! Long live his Queen!" when they were pronounced man and wife.

And he remembered kissing her.

It sounds so cliché, but time really did seem to slow down as he pulled her flush against the ceremonial armor that he wore. They stood in a column of sunlight, and Braelyn seemed to take on an ethereal glow, her light brown hair transformed into a shimmering gold. He saw her blue eyes widen with anxiety before relaxing at the touch of his hand on her face.

"My queen," he said, with a possessiveness he had no right to feel.

"My king," she replied, so softly he may have imagined her saying it.

Varian lowered his head and lay his lips on hers. It was warm, soft, comforting; like two souls embracing after an eternity apart. In that moment, he knew that Tiffin had sent this beautiful woman to him, and Braelyn became a star in the midnight sky of his existence, eclipsed only by the light of his son.

Varian swore that he'd win her heart, even if it took him the rest of his life.

Braelyn's shoulders shook with laughter as she read the card that Genn had slipped under her bedroom door sometime during the reception. It was the first genuine laugh she'd had all day, and it was a shame it happened so late, right when she was preparing for bed.

"And what are you laughing at, Mrs. Wrynn?" Varian asked as he came out of their bathroom.

"Genn slipped this under our door," Braelyn said, waving the bit of parchment at Varian. "It's an extra present from Tyrande."

She watched as Varian came over and took the parchment from her. He was clad only in a pair of woollen pyjama pants, and Braelyn was not ashamed to admit that she found her husband very distracting. He was well muscled, and she had to clench her hands into fists to stop her fingers from tracing their way over his numerous scars.

Stop it, Braelyn! These kind of thoughts are what got you into this mess.

"'To Her Majesty, Queen Braelyn of Stormwind'," Varian read, "'I hearby present to you this voucher, redeemable for five free frolicking lessons. Sincerely, High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind of Darnassus'."

Braelyn enjoyed watching Varian laugh. It happened so rarely that it was like a little treat.

"How thoughtful of Tyrande," Varian drawled, and he surprised Braelyn by wrapping his arms around her from behind. She wondered if she would ever get used to his physicality. "But, in my opinion, you do not need lessons in frolicking."

"Really?" Braelyn asked, attempting to remove herself from her husband's grasp.

"Really. You are an expert frolicker," Varian confirmed. "As a married woman, you really shouldn't be frolicking in public anyway."

"So my frolicking days are over?"

"Oh, no," Varian growled in her ear, and for a moment Braelyn wanted to forget that this was a sham marriage. "It just means that you frolic only for me."

"I'll, uh, keep that in mind," Braelyn squeaked, relieved when Varian released her. She really wished she could just let go and be physically intimate with him, but she couldn't. She needed an emotional connection to her partner, and she didn't have that with Varian.

Plus, she was afraid of being hurt again, the tragic legacy of her relationship with Rommath.

"Do you need help with your dress?" Varian asked. "Those buttons look tricky."

"Oh, yes, please," Braelyn replied. "They're a nightmare. I don't know who thought they were a good idea."

"I'm betting your friend Chelinka told Odariah to have them included in the design. Evil little things."

"You know Chelinka?" Braelyn asked in surprise, trying to stop herself from blushing when her husband brushed her hair over her shoulder and began undoing the tiny buttons. She could feel his fingers brushing the bare skin of her back.

"Everybody knows Chelinka," Varian said with a low chuckle.

Varian seemed to take his sweet time unbuttoning her dress, but eventually the final one popped open. She clutched the bodice to her chest as he pushed the fabric forward, then gasped as Varian leaned over and kissed her shoulder. She stiffened, not knowing how to respond.

"It's all right, Braelyn," he said. "I will not force you to do anything you do not want to do." He placed another soft kiss to her temple when she did not respond, and went over to their bed.

After a few seconds, Braelyn trusted herself to finish undressing. She hung the elaborate dress up, and slipped quickly into the blue silk nightgown her mother insisted she wear. She climbed into the king-sized bed,** settling down as far away from Varian as she could without ending up on the floor.

"I don't bite, Braelyn," Varian said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. She moved over... but just a little. With a sign, Varian rolled over and grabbed her, pulling her against his side. She tensed up. "Go to sleep," her husband added, relaxing back into his pillow.

But Braelyn didn't sleep, and neither did Varian

*the dress I have in mind is the one worn by Kate Middleton when she married Prince William. Odariah's bridesmaid's dress is the one worn by Pippa Middleton. I loved Pippa's dress. Kate's was pretty, but it looked mighty uncomfortable.

** bdum tish

AN - there we have it. Wedding spectacular. You all need to thank Amcm74 for getting the update tonight. When I met her in-game today and mentioned that I might not be posting until tomorrow, she cried. It made me work my arse off.

Next chapter: The honeymoon! And Braelyn settles into life as Queen B.