The Betrothed
for National Novel Writing Month
Day 10
As soon as Richard completed the ceremony, both Darrick and Abigail were engulfed by their parents’ well-wishing. Darrick, to his frustration, briefly lost sight of Abigail as his mother enfolded him in her embrace, holding him longer than he could ever remember her having done before. To his shock, he felt tears on her cheeks.
“Darrick, I am so happy for you,” she said. Her words were choked out through a trembling voice. “I’ve waited for this day your entire life. Everything will be fine now, you’ll see.” For the first time, Darrick found he could believe her; though he was still not happy about how he had reached this point, he could not argue with the result. Then his mother released him, and his father was shaking his hand and smiling.
“Congratulations, son,” he said, and though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, Darrick knew his sentiments were genuine, if not unalloyed with other feelings. “If you’re content, than so am I.” Darrick was finding it hard to speak, so he just nodded, and his father responded in kind. Behind him, Darrick could hear Abigail receiving and giving similar statements, and just her voice was enough to make him feel more stable. He took a deep breath.
“Thanks. I’ve . . . I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know a person could feel this way.” His mother’s smile widened further.
“Normal people can’t,” she said, and for a wonder she didn’t look at John when she said it. She seemed truly focused on Darrick for the moment. “That’s the power of the bond. It will only get better from here, once you are truly married and the bond is completed.” I don’t know if I could survive much more than this, Darrick thought. I might die from that much euphoria.
A hand gripped Darrick’s from behind, and his breath caught. He turned to see Abigail standing behind him, aglow with excitement. Am I just as transparent? Darrick wondered.
“Hungry?” she asked. Darrick blinked at the irrelevance of the question, and then remembered.
Oh, yeah, the feast. “Not at all,” he answered honestly. How can they possibly expect me to eat at a time like this?
“Me, neither,” she said as she slipped her arm through his, pulled him close, and started to lead him towards the exit. The rest of the party followed at a discrete distance. “But we’re expected to make an appearance all the same. Don’t worry, no one expects us to actually eat.”
“How long are we expected to stay?” His mother had told him about the feast, of course, but it hadn’t occurred to Darrick to ask how long it would last. Of course, at the time, I didn’t think there would be a feast at all. Thinking that was almost painful now. He still wasn’t wild about the actual feast idea, though; all he wanted was to be alone with Abigail. To talk to her, listen to her, touch her . . . Abigail gave him a sidelong glance and a wicked grin. She knows exactly what I’m thinking. Darrick didn’t know if he should be embarrassed or excited.
“Well, if proprieties are to be observed, we shouldn’t be alone together until our wedding, certainly not at night.” Darrick’s heart sank, but Abigail’s grin just widened. “Still, this is a big house, and these feasts aren’t really about the couple anyway; wait a couple of hours, and people will be so involved in their own conversations or their own drinks that no one will care or maybe even notice if we slip off.” Darrick felt the silly grin return to his face.
“Abigail,” he said, relishing the name, “I-” Abigail stopped in her tracks and placed her finger on his lips, her grin transformed into a pout. An incredibly cute, endearing moue.
“First rule of being my future husband: call me Abby.” She kept her finger on his lips until he nodded. “The only people who call me ‘Abigail’ are my parents. And Patrick, when he wants to annoy me. Which is always, by the way. But all my friends call me Abby.”
But I like ‘Abigail’, he thought, but the last thing I want to do is annoy her. Not to mention . . . “I’ll keep that in mind. I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything like your brother.” Abigail grimaced.
“Oh, that’s right, you’ve met him already. My condolences. If Mother wasn’t such a stickler for tradition, I could have seen you when you arrived and made a much better first impression.” She snuggled up to him as well as she could as they walked. “I guess a good second impression will have to do.” The feel of her head and body pressed up against his side sent a wave of warmth through his veins; he realized with some chagrin that the warmth appeared to be collecting in one place in particular.
“Oh,” he said in a near-croak, “I think your first impression was plenty good enough.” She laughed, and it sounded to Darrick like joyous chimes in the wind. He wondered if he could find a surreptitious way to wrap his coat around his front. He strongly hoped that Abby wouldn’t notice, but was excited by the thought that she might.
If she noticed, she gave no sign, just continued to insinuate herself as close to him as possible. They turned one final corner, and the passageway opened up before them into an expansive dining hall. The walls were hung with banners, each one bearing a different geometric pattern; Darrick could pick out the one on his tunic, as well as the one embroidered on the bodice of Abby’s long violet dress. He assumed the others were the sigils of the other eight Houses. Chandeliers hung overhead, illuminating the entire room, and a large fireplace occupied the far wall. Directly before them was a long table stretching out to their right and left. Darrick could see that their entrance let out onto a large dais for the head table, and beyond it was a step down to the rest of the hall. Just after the step was set up two more long tables set perpendicular to the first, and around these tables sat dozens of brightly-clothed people, all of whom rose as one the moment they entered. Darrick and Abby stepped forward to their seats at the table’s center, and remained standing as their families took their places to the sides. By instinct, Darrick started to take his seat, but Abby’s pressure on his arm kept him on his feet; he then remembered the ritual his mother had taught him, and he was grateful to Abby for so subtly keeping him from making a mistake.
When everyone had taken their place, they all turned and faced east for one minute. Cynthia had told Darrick that every Atlantean family observed this tradition before every meal, a remembrance of their lost home in the Atlantic. To just sit down and eat was considered incredibly gauche, similar to how a religious household might view eating before the blessing. After the minute was over, Abby gave another tug on his arm, this time downward, and the two of them sat, hands still joined; once they had settled themselves, the rest of the group sat as well. The tables were filled with food, and the sight of it roused the appetite that Darrick had thought completely vanished, but there was still a little more to go through before consumption could finally commence. Richard stepped out of the hallway from which they had arrived and stood behind Darrick and Abby’s seats, and raised his hands above their heads.
“Let it be known to all the Houses,” he declaimed, “that the betrothed have been Presented and their bond acknowledged by both. Let it be written in the Records that Lord Darrick Knight and Abigail Martin are to be joined in bonded marriage, that their lives and hearts are to become one. Let their union enrich the land of Atlantis. Let their joy and fertility bring life and wealth to the people of Atlantis. Let it be so!”
“Let it be so,” responded the crowd, the roar of the voices filling the room, but Darrick was stuck one sentence behind. Fertility?! Good god, what do they mean by that? Do they want kids? Do they want them right away? He knew it was a ritual announcement, but it reminded him of how little he knew about what he was getting into. Abby must have noticed his tension; she wrapped her foot around his leg and ran it up and down while squeezing his hand.
“I think they have pills for that now,” she whispered into his ear. It was comforting and disconcerting at the same time how easily she was able to read him. I guess it was pretty obvious when I tightened up.
“Pills for or against?” he whispered back.
“Which do you want?” she responded, face straight.
“You can’t guess?” What if she wants kids soon? Maybe she’s been waiting for them? I’m too young for that! She left him hanging for a moment longer, then kissed him on the cheek.
“I started on the pill a month ago. I guess the people of Atlantis will just have to make do with the life and wealth they already have.” Darrick’s relief was mixed with an amused exasperation. It’s going to take everything I have to keep up with this girl. Well, bring it on!
“So, does that mean . . .” he said, and cocked one eyebrow in suggestion. Abby patted his hand in mock sympathy.
“Your insidious influence hasn’t corrupted me that much yet. Keep trying.”
Darrick had expected as much. As they were waiting to board the plane to Denver, his mother had taken him aside for one final instruction.
“Darrick, I have worked very hard to not find out what you do with all your girlfriends,” she had said, “but you need to know this. Abigail has kept herself for her wedding night, as Atlantean tradition dictates. Do not try to seduce her. She’s worth more than that.”
At the time, he had just nodded (though with some relief in knowing that his mother didn’t know all of what he and his previous girlfriends had done with each other); now he wished he had probed into that tradition a little bit further. He was startled out of his reverie by Abby waving a roast chicken leg in his face.
“So, are you going to eat or what?”
for National Novel Writing Month
Day 10
As soon as Richard completed the ceremony, both Darrick and Abigail were engulfed by their parents’ well-wishing. Darrick, to his frustration, briefly lost sight of Abigail as his mother enfolded him in her embrace, holding him longer than he could ever remember her having done before. To his shock, he felt tears on her cheeks.
“Darrick, I am so happy for you,” she said. Her words were choked out through a trembling voice. “I’ve waited for this day your entire life. Everything will be fine now, you’ll see.” For the first time, Darrick found he could believe her; though he was still not happy about how he had reached this point, he could not argue with the result. Then his mother released him, and his father was shaking his hand and smiling.
“Congratulations, son,” he said, and though the smile didn’t reach his eyes, Darrick knew his sentiments were genuine, if not unalloyed with other feelings. “If you’re content, than so am I.” Darrick was finding it hard to speak, so he just nodded, and his father responded in kind. Behind him, Darrick could hear Abigail receiving and giving similar statements, and just her voice was enough to make him feel more stable. He took a deep breath.
“Thanks. I’ve . . . I’ve never felt like this before. I didn’t know a person could feel this way.” His mother’s smile widened further.
“Normal people can’t,” she said, and for a wonder she didn’t look at John when she said it. She seemed truly focused on Darrick for the moment. “That’s the power of the bond. It will only get better from here, once you are truly married and the bond is completed.” I don’t know if I could survive much more than this, Darrick thought. I might die from that much euphoria.
A hand gripped Darrick’s from behind, and his breath caught. He turned to see Abigail standing behind him, aglow with excitement. Am I just as transparent? Darrick wondered.
“Hungry?” she asked. Darrick blinked at the irrelevance of the question, and then remembered.
Oh, yeah, the feast. “Not at all,” he answered honestly. How can they possibly expect me to eat at a time like this?
“Me, neither,” she said as she slipped her arm through his, pulled him close, and started to lead him towards the exit. The rest of the party followed at a discrete distance. “But we’re expected to make an appearance all the same. Don’t worry, no one expects us to actually eat.”
“How long are we expected to stay?” His mother had told him about the feast, of course, but it hadn’t occurred to Darrick to ask how long it would last. Of course, at the time, I didn’t think there would be a feast at all. Thinking that was almost painful now. He still wasn’t wild about the actual feast idea, though; all he wanted was to be alone with Abigail. To talk to her, listen to her, touch her . . . Abigail gave him a sidelong glance and a wicked grin. She knows exactly what I’m thinking. Darrick didn’t know if he should be embarrassed or excited.
“Well, if proprieties are to be observed, we shouldn’t be alone together until our wedding, certainly not at night.” Darrick’s heart sank, but Abigail’s grin just widened. “Still, this is a big house, and these feasts aren’t really about the couple anyway; wait a couple of hours, and people will be so involved in their own conversations or their own drinks that no one will care or maybe even notice if we slip off.” Darrick felt the silly grin return to his face.
“Abigail,” he said, relishing the name, “I-” Abigail stopped in her tracks and placed her finger on his lips, her grin transformed into a pout. An incredibly cute, endearing moue.
“First rule of being my future husband: call me Abby.” She kept her finger on his lips until he nodded. “The only people who call me ‘Abigail’ are my parents. And Patrick, when he wants to annoy me. Which is always, by the way. But all my friends call me Abby.”
But I like ‘Abigail’, he thought, but the last thing I want to do is annoy her. Not to mention . . . “I’ll keep that in mind. I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything like your brother.” Abigail grimaced.
“Oh, that’s right, you’ve met him already. My condolences. If Mother wasn’t such a stickler for tradition, I could have seen you when you arrived and made a much better first impression.” She snuggled up to him as well as she could as they walked. “I guess a good second impression will have to do.” The feel of her head and body pressed up against his side sent a wave of warmth through his veins; he realized with some chagrin that the warmth appeared to be collecting in one place in particular.
“Oh,” he said in a near-croak, “I think your first impression was plenty good enough.” She laughed, and it sounded to Darrick like joyous chimes in the wind. He wondered if he could find a surreptitious way to wrap his coat around his front. He strongly hoped that Abby wouldn’t notice, but was excited by the thought that she might.
If she noticed, she gave no sign, just continued to insinuate herself as close to him as possible. They turned one final corner, and the passageway opened up before them into an expansive dining hall. The walls were hung with banners, each one bearing a different geometric pattern; Darrick could pick out the one on his tunic, as well as the one embroidered on the bodice of Abby’s long violet dress. He assumed the others were the sigils of the other eight Houses. Chandeliers hung overhead, illuminating the entire room, and a large fireplace occupied the far wall. Directly before them was a long table stretching out to their right and left. Darrick could see that their entrance let out onto a large dais for the head table, and beyond it was a step down to the rest of the hall. Just after the step was set up two more long tables set perpendicular to the first, and around these tables sat dozens of brightly-clothed people, all of whom rose as one the moment they entered. Darrick and Abby stepped forward to their seats at the table’s center, and remained standing as their families took their places to the sides. By instinct, Darrick started to take his seat, but Abby’s pressure on his arm kept him on his feet; he then remembered the ritual his mother had taught him, and he was grateful to Abby for so subtly keeping him from making a mistake.
When everyone had taken their place, they all turned and faced east for one minute. Cynthia had told Darrick that every Atlantean family observed this tradition before every meal, a remembrance of their lost home in the Atlantic. To just sit down and eat was considered incredibly gauche, similar to how a religious household might view eating before the blessing. After the minute was over, Abby gave another tug on his arm, this time downward, and the two of them sat, hands still joined; once they had settled themselves, the rest of the group sat as well. The tables were filled with food, and the sight of it roused the appetite that Darrick had thought completely vanished, but there was still a little more to go through before consumption could finally commence. Richard stepped out of the hallway from which they had arrived and stood behind Darrick and Abby’s seats, and raised his hands above their heads.
“Let it be known to all the Houses,” he declaimed, “that the betrothed have been Presented and their bond acknowledged by both. Let it be written in the Records that Lord Darrick Knight and Abigail Martin are to be joined in bonded marriage, that their lives and hearts are to become one. Let their union enrich the land of Atlantis. Let their joy and fertility bring life and wealth to the people of Atlantis. Let it be so!”
“Let it be so,” responded the crowd, the roar of the voices filling the room, but Darrick was stuck one sentence behind. Fertility?! Good god, what do they mean by that? Do they want kids? Do they want them right away? He knew it was a ritual announcement, but it reminded him of how little he knew about what he was getting into. Abby must have noticed his tension; she wrapped her foot around his leg and ran it up and down while squeezing his hand.
“I think they have pills for that now,” she whispered into his ear. It was comforting and disconcerting at the same time how easily she was able to read him. I guess it was pretty obvious when I tightened up.
“Pills for or against?” he whispered back.
“Which do you want?” she responded, face straight.
“You can’t guess?” What if she wants kids soon? Maybe she’s been waiting for them? I’m too young for that! She left him hanging for a moment longer, then kissed him on the cheek.
“I started on the pill a month ago. I guess the people of Atlantis will just have to make do with the life and wealth they already have.” Darrick’s relief was mixed with an amused exasperation. It’s going to take everything I have to keep up with this girl. Well, bring it on!
“So, does that mean . . .” he said, and cocked one eyebrow in suggestion. Abby patted his hand in mock sympathy.
“Your insidious influence hasn’t corrupted me that much yet. Keep trying.”
Darrick had expected as much. As they were waiting to board the plane to Denver, his mother had taken him aside for one final instruction.
“Darrick, I have worked very hard to not find out what you do with all your girlfriends,” she had said, “but you need to know this. Abigail has kept herself for her wedding night, as Atlantean tradition dictates. Do not try to seduce her. She’s worth more than that.”
At the time, he had just nodded (though with some relief in knowing that his mother didn’t know all of what he and his previous girlfriends had done with each other); now he wished he had probed into that tradition a little bit further. He was startled out of his reverie by Abby waving a roast chicken leg in his face.
“So, are you going to eat or what?”
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