Chuck versus the Positively Medieval
by Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: In the provincial town of Pinedeep, everyone knows: The only way to secure the hand of the heiress of the Walker fortune is to catch her black cat and take the key that hangs from its collar back to the heiress Walker's home where it will unlock the door and unlock her fortune. When enigmatic siblings from afar settle in Pinedeep, will the shifting winds they bring prove fateful? Medieval AU.
A/N: Thanks, everybody! Hope you continue to enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Medieval Times-though if I did own Medieval Times, I'd make the chairs in that place a little more comfortable and there would be better options for my vegetarian sisters and brothers to eat while enjoying the show.
He secretly ached for his sister to be here with him rather than where she was. And he knew it was a selfish desire. For she was exactly where she was most needed, at Sarah Walker's side. His bride. Rather, she would be his bride within the hour.
Sarah needed his sister's calming, affectionate sturdiness more than he did on this day, certainly in this last part of the journey to the altar where they would join hands and lives.
Chuck was giving up nothing in this exchange, and in fact he had everything to gain.
Everyone knew how much he would inherit with just the scribbling of his signature, and the exchange of a few short words.
In spite of the happy tidings, and the way everyone in the town kept up appearances of joy and good feelings for the happy betrothed couple, Chuck knew few of Pinedeep's citizens saw him as much more than a conniving tradesman who had reached far above his station and, through a loophole, had achieved what he wanted. What many of the men in Pinedeep and in any town, province, or kingdom had wanted but had not the brazenness.
Sarah Walker would be his.
But he trusted no one else with this.
Because he loved her, and he knew beyond all doubt there was no one anywhere, not in all the land, who could possibly love her a fraction as much as he loved her. And so he knew he would do right by her in a way no other man would.
And then there was the way he was sure Sarah must feel about all of this. She had to cede her land, her home, her self and all else she owned to a man she scarce knew, simply because her cat had softened enough to take pity on a drunken idiot splayed out in the dirt in the wee hours of the morn. 'Twas not just the law of Pinedeep, but of virtually everywhere.
Upon marriage, a woman and her property became her husband's.
Chuck would have every bit of the power, and Sarah would have none.
How hopeless, how terrified must she feel knowing that was the truth? It did not matter how often he pleaded with her to trust him, that he would give it all back to her. The fact remained that it would still be his no matter what, by law, and should he decide to take it all back whensoever he chose, she would have no recourse to stop him.
"Today the sun rose on celebration," he heard the notary say. He turned to glance at the man, having to strain against the high collar to do so. "Tonight…the same sun shall set on a union."
The look the older man sent Chuck left nothing to the imagination.
The young handyman swallowed hard and turned away, fighting against the frown that threatened to show in his features. Little did the man know it would do no such thing. At least not in the way he clearly meant.
The tailor's young son, Bruono, scurried out from the Pinedeep crowd that had assembled wearing their best threads to witness the marriage of the heiress Sarah Walker to the handyman Charles Bartowski. He grabbed onto the robes of the notary and the man grinned, kneeling low to hear the child's whisperings in his ear.
"Ah! So we shall begin. It seems the bride has arrived."
Nerves spread through Chuck as rapidly as a rushing river and any amount of calm he had felt early that morning, sitting beside his bride-to-be in the peaceful realm of the Walker estate, fog surrounding them, their fate hours away, had so soon been dashed.
She believed him not. She believed finally winning her power, her estate, and all the wealth that came with it would corrupt him, squander his good-will, and his pact would be left in tatters on the ground surrounding their feet, his promise dropped so easily as though it had been dipped in oil and slipped through his fingers.
Could he blame her for it? Nay.
So he would prove his mettle by holding true to his word.
Chuck nearly jumped as the notary raised his hand up towards the intricate cages that held doves with feathers white as snow entrapped in their brass bars, the cage doors opened and the birds burst from their prisons up into the sky, beating their wings and chirping as they flew.
It was a beautiful sight. And he shifted his stance to tilt his head back and watch them ascend to freedom. He found himself smiling, squinting up into the late afternoon sunlight. Even as the sun began to set, it was bright on this joyous day. It made him feel a strange sensation…hope perhaps.
And then the crowd hushed for a moment, and he furrowed his brow, the gasps from the onlookers causing him to lower his gaze from the beautiful sight of the birds, only to see something—someone—with even more beauty, an immeasurable amount of beauty.
His breath left his body as he watched her approach slowly down the makeshift aisle the Pinedeep locals had left for her. And then someone struck up a song, others joining in, clapping their hands to it. It was something about love and joy and forevermore. He did not understand the custom, but he supposed he didn't have to.
Nor did it matter.
All that mattered was how stunned he was by the woman stepping closer and closer, one foot at a time against the white cloth that had been laid out over the dirt ground in front of the house of worship they stood before, the steeples towering over them, behind the notary.
Sarah Walker shone like a beacon of hope and warmth and everything else that was true and good in this world, everything he had been missing in his twenty-six years of life, right in front of him, adorned in a pearl-colored gown that clung to her figure save for the wide sleeves that drooped low from her wrists, almost to the ground she tread upon in her shoes he could not see with the way the gown dropped all the way to the dirt, swinging to and fro against the cloth at Sarah's feet as she nearly reached him.
She wore an intricate headpiece around her blond hair that spilled down her shoulders in rivulets, four thin braids resting amidst the blond like golden accents.
The purple and gold filigree threaded along the hems and seams of her gown glinted in the afternoon sunlight as she moved, stepping closer to him. She had yet to look at him, walking with his sister on one side wearing a fine gown of deep brown, Tamsin on the other, wearing a blue gown she seemed very proud of with the way she clutched at the front of it, her smile bigger than anyone else's smile. Even Ellie's, and Ellie had an unnervingly wide smile on her face.
Chuck didn't quite understand how sincerely excited she was about today, almost fluttering about the last few weeks in preparation, but attempting to be more subdued around him.
Alas, he had given up trying to figure out the wiles and whims of his sister long ago.
And now Sarah turned from where she had been smiling at the young girl walking to one side of her, and her blue eyes swept through the gathering, only to finally settle on her betrothed, her groom, standing at the head of the congregation, the doublet he wore so stiff he was forced to stand with his spine straight, the collar forcing him to lift his chin.
The moment her eyes met his, the women having moved to only a handful of feet away from him, he felt the full impact of what this ceremony would mean for him. He had been thinking for the past few weeks, for the past month even, about Sarah Walker and what all of this could mean for her—her freedom, her ability to choose what was next for her own life, where she would go, how, when, what she would do with her own fortune and property.
And now, finally, he was thinking about his own future.
What would it look like?
He didn't know.
Ellie's words from that day he first told her his plan came back to him now as Sarah and Ellie approached, Sarah handing Tamsin the pretty bouquet of gardenias that looked as though they had been forged by pink silk rather than plucked out of Missus Naughton's prized garden behind the bakery.
Ellie had worried about what might happen if he fell in love with another woman someday and he was stuck in a marriage with someone who did not love him, stuck in a pact, a promise he had made, selfless though it was.
Would he regret this?
He would not.
If all that came from it was that Sarah Walker found her independence, her freedom, and in so doing, also found her happiness, he wouldn't regret it. As he told Ellie more than once now, in her happiness he thought he would find his own.
But she would not be happy now, as he outstretched his hand towards her, her fingers sliding along his palm, sending a shiver through him as he cradled her hand in his.
She stepped up in front of him, and their eyes met. She seemed to try to smile, and there was more than just politeness in it. She was likely trying to make the best of this situation…but she was not happy. He was sure a large part of her still did not think he would keep to his promise, even if she was trying to trust him.
Sarah Walker was stuck with this arrangement, though he tried to give her an out if she really wanted it. More than once.
She must feel stuck, and so she was bearing it, perhaps keeping her mind open. He had to imagine she thought him at least better than someone of Shaw's calibre. Perhaps that was helping her feel better about it.
The notary cleared his throat and he broke Sarah's gaze, the both of them turning to face forward, shoulders brushing. Their hands fell apart, Chuck folding his together behind his back, Sarah moving to fold hers together in front of her.
The middle-aged man held up his hands and the townspeople quieted down. Chuck hadn't noticed the cheers and well-wishes that had been called out as Sarah made her way to his side, as focused as he had been on her, on everything about her.
But now the silence was deafening and the nerves that had been pricking at his chest felt more like a dam had busted and now they were flowing rapidly through his limbs, making it hard for him to keep his knees from shaking.
"Long live the people of Pinedeep," the notary said, raising his voice so all could hear. "The province on the whole and our town of hardworking, honorable peoples."
"Long live Pinedeep!" came the chorus of shouts from the people. Chuck even heard Sarah mutter the words herself beside him, under her breath.
The twins who had been holding the train of Sarah's gown gently set it on the purple carpet that had been laid out for the ceremony, their mother Priscilla whose husband was the town hatter ushering them away to stand with her and their father off to the side, a proud smile on both parents' faces.
"'Tis a day of celebration and joy for our town of Pinedeep, for our province, and for our kingdom. Everyone across the great lands shall find cause for joy in this union," the notary continued. "We consecrate this, an eternal union." Chuck swallowed hard at that. Eternal. This was eternal. And perhaps he truly was mad for this. "A union of two souls which shall now forever be enjoined. In them we find love that binds two children of the same nature: the desire to do right by one another and their fellow humanity, honor, loyalty, and humility above all. Faith in and by the spirits around us shall guide them on their path together. Let the ceremony commence."
This was much more formal than he'd prepared for, and the words the notary was saying were…copious in intensity.
Chuck sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the slight pressure of her arm against his.
"Charles, if thou wouldst take the hand of thy betrothed Sarah."
He turned to face Sarah again, and she him. He picked up her right hand with his own, holding onto it. He didn't mean to squeeze as though it was his lifeline, but in that moment, it felt so.
The handyman had gone through what he was to say to Sarah Walker in this part of the ceremony so many times, both in his head and out loud when he was in his workshop or in the house alone. Still, his tongue froze in the cavern of his mouth, his throat closed up, and he gulped.
Sarah merely looked up at him expectantly.
He simply had to recite the words, she would repeat them back, and that would be the only work he had to do here. That was it.
He could do this.
Spirits, help him, he could do this.
"Sarah Walker," he finally got out, meeting her gaze steadily. "On this day, I take thee as my wife. My partner in life. I promise to respect thee, to protect thee, to my dying day. And in so doing, my life will be thine, thy life will be mine. Mortals and immortals alike be my witness, thine husband I shall be, and I shall strive a lifetime and more even to earn that title. Will ye take me as thine husband?"
"I will," she said immediately, not looking away from him for a moment.
And so.
There was no going back.
Because he knew his answer.
The notary nodded his head. "Of this consent, I am witness. Sarah, if thou wouldst take the hand of thy betrothed Charles."
She lifted her left hand and crossed her body to pick up his, their enfolded left hands embracing over their clinging right hands. He felt her squeeze and he squeezed back.
"Charles Bartowski," she breathed. Then she paused, her blue eyes quivering just for a moment, and then they were steady on his again. "On this day, I take thee as my husband. My partner in life. I promise to respect thee, to protect thee, to my dying day. And in so doing, my life will be thine, thy life will be mine. Mortals and immortals alike be my witness, thy wife I shall be, and I shall strive a lifetime and more even to earn that title. Will ye take me as thy wife?"
"I will."
Chuck knew the importance of those words even in the deepest corridors of his heart. His life was changed forever now.
It would never be the same again. Nor would hers be.
"And so, as spirits shall witness, as we all shall witness, let man and wife kiss…" The notary paused, humor in his tone. "And then shall we all be merry."
Chuck pulled his hand from hers and gently ran the tips of his fingers along her jaw, cupping her chin and leaning in. He paused, not wanting to take liberties, and Sarah tilted her own face, not stopping until their lips met.
It was a mere brush of lips and he moved back just so, and then he felt a slight tug at his doublet, her fingers twisted in it, and he felt himself pulled back in, her lips pressing into his once more, only with more pressue.
He didn't quite understand it, and as surprised as he was, his stomach flipped, his knees turning to mush. But he kept his feet as she pulled back, her lips so impossibly soft moving away from his. He blinked his eyes open and knew he was blushing as she met his gaze.
Truly he knew the kiss was just a part of the ceremony for his bride, and yet for him it had tasted like cold water after a long journey through an arid land.
He knew in that moment as the people of Pinedeep cheered, as he and Sarah faced them and lifted their hands grasping between them in a gesture of celebration, that his sister had somehow known there would be pain in store for him. And that was why she had questioned him, why she had sat him down on multiple occasions asking him if he was sure about this wild plan.
Had she seen the real passion that lurked in his breast? Had it shown in his eyes? Did she know he had a burgeoning love for the woman who was now his wedded wife?
And all would know that said wedded wife did not have a love for him.
This would be his lot in life.
Still, if she found happiness in her freedom, he could find happiness in her freedom just so.
Could he not?
They glanced at one another and glanced away again, and Chuck Bartowski led his wife, Sarah Bartowski—once Walker—down the steps, across the purple carpet, and through the throngs of well-wishers.
The rest of his life lay before him, and he did not know what it looked like as it lay shrouded in a thick fog.
}o{
Everyone's glass was raised but his.
Sarah subtly snuck her other hand across her body, under the table where no one else would see, and poked one of his ribs over the doublet he had been squirming uncomfortably inside of for the past two hours since they were wedded.
The goblet went up and he cleared his throat, sending her a quick apologetic look.
"To the wedded couple! LONG LIVE THE WEDDED COUPLE!" the baker and Missus Naughton's husband yelled out into the night. Everyone cried out, cheered, and drank from their cups.
The lively music began anew and Sarah saw her husband put his cup back on the table in her peripheral. He had been subdued, trapped in his own head, since the ceremony finished.
They were whisked apart from one another, locked away in rooms where they were changed into clothing that was much easier to move and dance in, and brought back to a beautifully decorated celebration area that was lit with torches and moonlight.
Per custom, the women had danced with the newly wedded groom, and the men had danced with the newly wedded bride. Heaps of truly delicious food had been piled on the tables, endless amounts of beer poured into large brass goblets.
And while Chuck kept up the appearance of a man celebrating his vows, always polite and enthusiastic when necessary, still he seemed…different than usual. The enthusiasm felt…distant…or…distracted.
All Sarah could think was that he was regretting this now, once it was too late to go back.
Kindness, selflessness was all well and good before the words "eternal" had been spoken. And "lifetime". They were married for a lifetime now. Perhaps more if the spirit world was real and it was as her father told her after her mother had passed on—that marriage lasted into the spirit world as well, that they would see Emma there again someday and live as a family again.
Was Chuck afraid?
She felt fear in her own heart. But not as much as she always thought there would be when she thought of the prospect of marriage before. Maybe the fact that he was a truly good man had lessened the fear. She would not deny, at least silently and to herself, that there were…burgeoning feelings that eclipsed the friendship they had been building. More than burgeoning even. She felt it, and she thought it wasn't just her.
There were those looks he tossed in her direction, sometimes when he didn't know she could see him.
But he had thrown his future to her now, and the way he was behaving, she thought he was second-guessing his choice.
Sarah went out on a limb, grasping onto his hand under the table where it rested on his knee.
He blinked and spun to look at her, his eyes wide.
"The deed is done, sir. Have thee regrets?"
Chuck furrowed his brow. "No. I have none." He had none? Did she believe him? She wasn't sure.
"Why art thou so quiet? Distant? What is it troubling thee?"
She watched the lump of his throat bob, and he played with the thin film of sweat on his goblet under his fingertip. Distracted, still.
"Thou art my husband now," she reminded him, leaning in close. "I am the person thou art supposed to be able to talk to about things."
The corner of Chuck's mouth tilted up and they exchanged an amused glance. He sighed and shook his head. "Am I distant?" She nodded. He frowned. "I apologize. I mean it not. I am trapped in mine own head. It is not regrets that I have. On the contrary, I am evermore determined now that vows have been exchanged."
And a kiss. A kiss that had been softer and warmer and sweeter than the very few kisses she had felt against her lips before. Those kisses hadn't been as pleasant, rather more…forced and upsetting.
Sarah pushed that from her mind. She would have to bear that no more.
She had wanted more of her husband's kiss.
"I worry, Sarah, that ye have a fear deep within thee that I will not keep to my side of the bargain we made." He lowered his voice and leaned in closer, his face a mere inch or two from hers. "And this day is a day of tidings that everyone is saying are happy tidings, and still, I do not think they are happy for thee. For thou art now bound to a man who holds everything that is yours—you—in the palm of his hand. 'Tis not right, certainly 'tis not fair. And still…" He swallowed hard as she felt fear slither through her now that he reminded her of something she had fought so gallantly to forget throughout these past few hours, as the sun finally set on their land and left them with the moon's light only. "I want ye to trust me. I want it badly. Worse than I have wanted anything."
She watched him for a long time, waiting for him to finally meet her gaze. She sighed and gently cupped his face with her right hand. "I beg of thee, sir, do not let thy worries about my fears slay your ability to enjoy this food, this drink, or the dance. This is not a sad occasion. Not for me, and it should not be for thee."
Chuck frowned. "No?"
"No." She shook her head and smiled, catching his cleanly shaved chin between her thumb and pointer finger, trying to get him to smile back. He did, but only tentatively. "For even if the man I now find myself married to does not fulfill the promise he hath made before the binding ceremony, if he keeps to the vows he made to me on this day before all of Pinedeep, then I will be bound to a good man." Her own smile faltered just slightly. "When I lost my father, when the Walker fortune and lands fell into my hands, a marriage to a good man was not a foregone conclusion. In fact I feared 'twould not go that way."
She had realized this as she stood being pulled and prodded by numerous women, tucked away in her wedding gown, her hair braided, the fancy covering fixed atop her head like a crown.
Whether it was everything she had wanted for herself or not, whether it was the true freedom she yearned for, the freedom to be who she was and do what she wanted, and govern her own life and family's fortune the way she saw fit… she was now wedded to a man who was exceptionally good, with a heart that beat truer than any heart she'd ever known. He would care for her, and he would be kind to her. She would not mind caring for him. Protecting him. There would be warmth in her life.
And she faced the ceremony with a strangely calm sense about herself and her situation.
It seemed Chuck had done the opposite, out of worry for her inability to trust his words just yet.
It was sweet, and it was silly.
"I am not sad, Chuck Bartowski."
He looked right at her, and then he smiled. He curled his fingers around her hand and pulled it away from his cheek, only to press his lips to her palm. Sarah felt a shiver deep inside of her, and it was not an unpleasant shiver.
And then he surprised her by leaning the rest of the way, turning his face, and pressing his lips to her cheek, right below her cheekbone.
Sitting back against his seat properly, he cleared his throat and ducked his head bashfully. "Thank ye, Sarah. For what ye said. We…have not danced together all night," he added then, peeking up at her through his eyelashes.
She grinned at him in amusement, the specter of his lips still singing on her cheek. "'Tis Pinedeep tradition. Everyone dances before the wedded couple."
Chuck frowned, confused. "What? 'Tis backwards. Is not the wedded couple to dance first, and the others then join in?"
She giggled. "Nay, sir. The wedded couple dances together only once everyone else has danced."
"Backwards," he huffed, smirking and looking out at the festivities.
Sarah grinned again. "Fine. Pinedeep is backwards. And still, this is how we do things."
Shaking his head, he sucked in a deep breath and gave her a handsomely wily look. "When shall I be allowed to dance with thee?"
"Whenever ye decide to ask me." He sent her another confused look and she laughed. "It has been a few hours since the dancing started, sir."
"So thou wilt dance with me now?" Chuck paused, a mischievous glint in his eye as he glanced about the celebrations. "Should we ask first? Make sure everyone else has danced before we dare to take to the floor ourselves?"
She laughed again. "The cheek, sir. Are we dancing or not?"
A sincere smile stretched over his face, the first one she had seen from him in hours, without the distance or distraction, and he pushed himself up to his feet, offering a hand to her.
Sarah sent him a glimmering look, her chest filled with something wondrous, and she slipped her hand into his, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor where other couples were gathering as well. Her hand cradled delicately in his, they walked around each other in a wide circle, and then stepped in, posed, ready for the music to start.
As it did, they began the simple steps to start the dance, and she sent him an amused smile. "See, and no one has noticed that the couple everyone is here to celebrate is dancing for the first time together." He raised his eyebrows and she continued. "If we had stepped onto the dance floor together first thing, they would have noticed."
"Would they have tutted at us for't?"
"Aye," she giggled. "They may have."
"Silly."
"We are a silly people."
"I love Pinedeep," he said quietly, and she watched as his eyes took in the people, his neighbors. These people had not so far treated him with as much kindness as a man of his mien and goodness deserved, she knew. She had overheard the way they spoke of him after he was betrothed to their shining gem Sarah Walker.
He reached too far above his station, the scamp. Sure, he was all well and good fixing a broken wheel, getting the hinges on the doors to stop squeaking so annoyingly. But to think he was worthy of the most sought after heiress in all the land? The gall.
Still, he spoke of loving this place, and seemed to look upon its people fondly. Warmly even.
Perhaps the fact that no one had tried to run him and his sister off had something to do with it, since it seemed that had been the case in other places they had tried to settle and make a home in.
"As do I," she said just as quietly. They pressed their palms together and slowly stepped in a tight circle, switching hands and moving in the other direction. "Else I would have sold the estate, all of my family's property, and found someplace that I would fall in love with. Somewhere."
Chuck looked at her for a long time even as they hopped back and forth before stepping in close, his hands on her hips as they moved in time together. "Thou wouldst do so? Leave everything thy family built for generations behind?"
"Nay, perhaps not. I am all that is left of the Walker legacy so there would be no one to protest if I did sell it and walk away. But 'twould break my father's heart were he alive."
"And 'twould make it that much harder for ye to walk away," he surmised.
"Aye."
"Hm." He smiled, sliding his hand to her back then as she swung to stand side by side with him, their arms threaded as they did a two-step to the right, and then to the left. "And if ye did leave, where wouldst thou go?" She nibbled on her lip thoughtfully. "Ah, let me ask a different way." Sarah lifted her chin to send him a curious look. "Where wouldst thou desire to go?"
"My husband asks me about desire?"
It was perhaps cruel, teasing him like this. She heard the flirtation in her own voice. She almost felt foolish, but he was bringing this out in her, what with the way his hand was on her, large, covering the small of her back, the warmth of his touch sinking through her gown to her skin that bristled with something exciting.
He let out a nervous chuckle. But he did not speak.
And so she admitted something that she found was hard for her to admit, to him in particular: "I have never left this province. So I do not know where I might desire to go."
To her surprise, he did not seem shocked by her admission. Or dismayed. And for someone who had seen so much of their land, perhaps not by choice, she expected some sort of reaction from him. "I hope I am not overstepping… When I was in thine home, I saw shelves of books. Many books."
"Yea, my parents encouraged reading. They sent for books from all over the land." She did not know where he was going with this.
"Were there no places in these books that ye wanted to know more about?"
The song finished and they stepped away from one another, bowing low. As another song started, they both stepped together again, the tune familiar, and she found herself awash with the same feelings she had felt that night at the moon festival, the first time the musicians had played this tune as Sarah Walker and Chuck Bartowski had danced together.
There were no masks over their faces this time. This time, her name was Sarah Bartowski instead of Sarah Walker. They had the same name, they were married, and he was the one person in all the land who had the legally given right to put his hands on her in this way without anyone protesting—least of all herself.
He didn't have to say a word to her; they both knew the song that they were dancing to, they knew the significance, and their eyes burned with it as they met.
"In the books?" she asked, breathless.
"Aye," he answered with a nod, their bodies pressed close as they stepped in together and he hoisted her up into his arms in a lift. As he set her down again, his nose brushing against her temple, hands still on her body, he continued. "I remember a place called Berona in a storybook I read once; there was magic in the people who lived there, secrets untold, with waterfalls and bridges that crossed before 'em. Tall trees that reached up to the skies, canopies of leaves providing shade on the hot days and safe harbor when it rained. They lived in grass roof huts, small and humble, but they were all happy. Well, until an evil sorcerer came to claim the treasure they were safeguarding. That aside, I have always wanted to go there so badly."
"Berona?" she asked quietly, trying to calm the excited thumping of her heart as he lifted her again. He set her down and they turned to face one another again. "Where is this Berona?"
"Alas, I believe it is only in the book. 'Tis not a place that exists. But I thought it did for some time when I was a boy." They chuckled together, faces close, bodies closer. Still he felt so sturdy and warm under her touch, and she felt his touch on her acutely. "I bring it up because I wonder if there is a place ye read about as well. A place thou wouldst like to go to thyself."
"Reliden," she said after they danced in silence for almost a minute, gazes meeting, feet moving simultaneously, bodies molded together, fingers threaded between them. "'Tis a real place, but 'tis also far from here. I would have to ride for weeks."
"Wouldst thou? And 'twould be worth the journey?"
"Reliden's walls are made from stone in a nearby quarry that has gold embedded inside of it."
His eyes widened. "Golden walls?"
"Not solid gold, but the flecks of gold flash when the sun rises and sets again. They say no soul goes hungry within its walls. I read a…poem about it. A love poem. In a book of poetry my mother admired before her passing."
"Reliden. Well, thou mayst go there whenever ye choose now."
Sarah didn't mean to let out an amused, wry chuckle. She didn't want to offend him, or worse, hurt his feelings. She didn't seem to, however, as he simply gave her a questioning look. "I cannot ride for weeks to Reliden and leave this land to vultures."
"I see. That was…foolish of me."
"No, no," she hurried, shifting her hand to the back of his neck. She squeezed and he froze against her for a moment, recovering almost as quickly. "'Twas not foolish, Chuck."
"I have never had anything keeping me in one place, see. Nothing to tie me down. And while it may sound like a good thing, a freeing thing, 'tis harder than it sounds. 'Tis hard not to have a home, something to solidify roots in a place." He shrugged one shoulder and lifted her again.
Spirits, the way he rested his chin against her body during the lift. She felt the imprint of his face in her gown and she knew where his lips were, and she truly was not prepared for this to feel…this way.
They stayed quiet for the rest of the song, and she lost herself once again in his arms, letting her feet and hands move the way they did, so instinctively, which allowed for her to drown in his golden-brown eyes.
And when the song finished, she was breathing hard. He gently eased her out of his embrace, and because she wasn't already lost in a sea of confusion, he tenderly stroked some of her hair out of her face.
The next hour was a blur, gifts blessed by spirits piled into the back of a wagon, the utterly mortifying proclamation of one of their fellow Pinedeep citizens that their gift was blessed with imagery of the goddess of fertility. Kisses, hugs, cheers exchanged, and then her husband was at her side, helping her climb into the seat of the wagon. And then he crawled up beside her and lifted the reins.
Sarah felt someone grab at her hand as Chuck leaned down to shake the hands of the town's gentlemen, and Sarah looked down into her friend, Chuck's sister, Eleanor Bartowski's face. The brunette's green eyes were lined with dampness as she smiled up at her. Sarah thought the other woman said something under the cheers and well-wishes from the townspeople. She leaned in closer and Ellie moved to her tiptoes, squeezing her hand tighter.
"Please, Sarah. Give him a chance. He will not let thee down."
Chuck snapped the reigns and the wagon moved, their hands came apart, and Sarah lurched upwards to sit straight to keep from falling right out of the seat. As they bumped along the dirt path towards the road that would take them through the dark night and to their destination, Sarah spun to peer back at the physician who lifted a hand to wave, the other arm hugging her torso, her features unreadable.
Sarah turned back around to stare straight ahead, her eyes wide.
The ceremony was over. The celebrations were over.
And now came the rest of her life.
Nay, first she had to make it through the rest of the night.
A/N: Dun dunnnn!
Thanks for reading! I appreciate everyone who went out of their way to answer my concerns from last chapter's A/N. Thanks so much!
-SC