As dawn breaks, the whispers begin. Tales of the night's events sweep through Oakhaven like wildfire. Some speak of a barbarian hero, wielding divine fire, saving the city. Others, fueled by lingering fear and the Master's insidious influence, twist the narrative. They point to the slain cultists, the ruptured ground, the ferocious bears that mauled people in the streets, and whisper of a savage half-orc who butchered innocents. The act of salvation becomes a horrifying spectacle, and seeds of doubt about my true nature are sown deep within the frightened populace.
I stir, a dull ache throbbing behind my eyes, and the world slowly comes into focus. I find myself lying on a comfortable cot, wrapped in thick furs, in a simple, quiet room in what appears to be a back section of a local inn. Morning light, pale and diffuse, filters through a small, grimy window, indicating the long night has passed.
By my side sits Shineah, her keen eyes fixed on my face. Her hand rests gently on my arm, her brow furrowed with concern, but there's a new, almost tender softness in her gaze I haven't seen before. Master Arion is also present, perched on a wooden stool in the corner, his expression a mix of profound relief and lingering worry. Charlie and Grizz are nowhere to be seen, likely outside. Their absence concerns me, making me wonder what kind of trouble they might be getting into.
Shineah offers a small, reassuring smile, her fingers lightly tracing the scars on my arm. Sensing my quiet turmoil, she squeezes my hand gently. "You are safe, Tormack," she whispers, her voice a soothing balm, "and you saved Oakhaven. Rest now. There will be time for talk."
As I look upon Shineah, I remember her words, she said yes! I blush and slightly squirm, not knowing what to say. My heart silently screams, *Are you really going to marry me, when?* My hands grow cold as the blood rushes to my heart, and I shiver. *I can't say anything; I don't want to pressure her. Did she really mean it?*
Shineah's gaze softens further, a knowing warmth entering her eyes. She holds my hand more firmly, her thumb gently stroking my knuckles. "Tormack," she says softly, her voice laced with understanding. "The words I spoke last night were true. You gave me life, and in return, I gave you my vow. A wedding will come, as soon as Oakhaven is truly safe, and the Master's shadow has been lifted for good. But know this," she leans closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper, "my heart aches for yours, and my promise holds. You need not fear." Her touch is firm, grounding, a silent promise against the anxieties that swirl within me.
I pull my hand from Shineah's, the warmth of her touch suddenly feeling like a brand. The notion of a wedding "as soon as Oakhaven is truly safe" rings hollow, a cruel echo against my desperate hope. The safety of the city entirely depends on the righteous desires of the people. I might live an entire lifetime chasing shadows amidst this city and remain a bachelor. She may as well have said never. My nose burns as tears form in my eyes, hot and stinging, a testament to the ache in my heart. I push myself up from the cot, the movement stiff, and begin to gather my meager belongings, my mind set on the familiar comfort of my forest home and the loyal companionship of Charlie and Grizz.
Shineah rises quickly, her brow furrowing again, this time with a different kind of concern. "Tormack, what are you doing?" she asks, her voice sharp with surprise, a hint of desperation in its tone. "You cannot simply abandon us now. Master Arion needs you, Oakhaven needs you. *I* need you." Her hand reaches out, but I flinch away, unable to bear another moment of uncertainty. I hold my hand to my heart and look away. I can't speak.
Shineah looks around the room, hurt and confused as to what she said wrong. She looks to Arion, "Isn't this what he wanted?"
Master Arion's voice is soft, with a noticeable quiver. "Shineah," he begins as his gaze turns to the door, "he does not speak lightly of such vows. He felt... abandoned." He sighs, looking from the door to Shineah's concerned face. "His heart is as raw as his courage. He heard postponement, not promise."
Shineah stands rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the empty doorway. Arion's words seem to pierce through her, a new layer of conflict surfacing in her expression. She clenches her jaw, then abruptly turns to Arion. "He needs me," she states, her voice firm, "but Oakhaven needs us both more. The Master's influence still poisons this city. I cannot abandon my duty, not when so much is at stake." Her gaze hardens with resolve, a determined glint returning. "We must find out about the Master's true location, his ultimate goal. I will secure the city, rallying every guard, every able-bodied person. And when this is truly done, Tormack, when Oakhaven is safe, I will find you. Then, we will talk."
Arion tilts his head, a troubled frown creasing his brow. "Was everything a lie, Shineah? Was that real, or just a desperate attempt to save the city? I was utterly convinced! He sighs, running a hand through his sparse hair. "Sorry, your love life is your own, and I should just butt out, but if you don't go after him, I don't think he will ever trust you again, let alone ever come back to Oakhaven. I wouldn't even be surprised if he decided to just get up and move. Could you live with that?"
Shineah stands motionless, her earlier resolve flickering under the weight of Arion's words. His clear-eyed assessment cuts through her duty-bound certainty. The city's plight, the Master's threat, all still demand her attention, but Arion's warning about Tormack's trust and his potential permanent departure rings like a death knell in her ears. She pictures Tormack, his raw vulnerability beneath the barbarian's facade, and a profound ache settles in her chest. The sincerity, Arion said. Not for Oakhaven, but for *him*. A slow, deep breath steadies her. "No," she finally whispers, her voice barely audible. "I cannot live with that." Her gaze meets Arion's, and a newfound clarity shines in her eyes, a blend of duty and a deeply personal resolve. "Oakhaven will be secured. But he deserves more than just words; he deserves action. Find me a fast horse, Arion. I'm going after him."
Arion abruptly blocks the door. "Shineah, if you go to him, he needs a prompt date for wedding bells that he can look forward to. However, don't do this for Oakhaven. If you go to him, you must be absolutely sincere. A facade will crumble, and you will be worse off because of it."
As Shineah meets Arion's eyes, she gives him a slow and curt nod. Only then does he let her pass. She then moves with a fierce, unwavering purpose. Her earlier hesitation is gone, replaced by a steely resolve that shines in her eyes. She quickly trades her formal attire for practical riding leathers, her movements sharp and efficient as she gathers her gear.
Arion, relieved and understanding, oversees the saddling of a swift steed, ensuring she has a sturdy pack filled with provisions. He watches her ride out through Oakhaven's gates, a lone figure disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom, a whispered blessing on his lips.
My return home is a blur of wounded pride and growing despair as I sprint at full speed through the woods, unleashing the maelstrom of emotions overflowing within me through physical exertion. Charlie and Grizz follow suit, panting. The familiar scent of the forest, usually a balm, offers little comfort against the ache in my chest as I fall to the ground gasping for air. I yearn for the hearth of my home, the comforting presence of the sacred stones. Yet, even as I push deeper into the familiar trails, a faint hope burns within me – a hope that just maybe, she will follow. It is a hope that offends me, stabs me, like a dagger in my soul, but I cling to it.
As I lay on the ground, exhausted, the weariness of the journey and the ache in my heart threaten to overwhelm me. But suddenly a new sound cuts through the quiet: the rhythmic thud of hooves. Shineah bursts into the clearing, her horse lathered with foam, its breath coming in ragged gasps. She dismounts swiftly, her eyes, though weary from the ride, lock onto mine with an intensity that brooks no argument. She doesn't speak immediately, simply crosses the distance between us, her gaze searching my face for any lingering doubt. "Tormack," she breathes, finally reaching me. She doesn't touch me, but the sincerity in her voice is a palpable force. "You were right to question my promise. But know this: I would not have come if I did not mean it with every fiber of my being. I will marry you. We will set the date, but first, we must fight for a world where we can build that home, together, truly safe."
A deep sigh escapes my lips, heavy with the weight of renewed disappointment. The single word, "first," hangs in the air like a fresh barrier between us. Shineah's eyes widen, and a flash of self-reproach crosses her features as Arion's words echo in her mind– *'Don't do this for Oakhaven... if you go to him you must be absolutely sincere. A facade will crumble.'* She had just done exactly what he warned against, falling back on her ingrained sense of duty.
Shineah takes a step closer, reaching out to cup my face with her hands, her gaze burning with an earnest intensity. "No," she corrects herself, her voice urgent, "not 'first.' That was the old me speaking. The woman who came here, Tormack, came for *you*. Oakhaven's safety is our mutual fight, yes, but our wedding is our personal future. We will discuss the details *now*, for a date within the next moon, once this immediate danger is resolved. This is not about duty. This is about us. And I am utterly, irrevocably sincere."
A frown forms on my face. "Once the danger is resolved," I echo, the words tasting bitter. I pull back from her touch, forcing a casual shrug that I don't feel. "Listen, you don't have to marry me. I release you from whatever duty you feel like you owe me for saving your life. It's okay." The words feel like ash in my mouth.
Shineah's hands fall away, her expression hardening not with anger, but with a profound, almost fierce determination. Her eyes flash with a mixture of understanding and frustration at my persistent doubt. She takes a firm step closer, closing the distance I tried to create. "Duty?" she scoffs, her voice sharp with conviction. "There is no duty in this, Tormack! You think I rode a lathered horse through the forest, leaving my city in turmoil, because of *duty*? You think the oath I swore in Oakhaven was a transaction for your life?" She shakes her head, a soft, exasperated sound escaping her lips. "I told you I was sincere. You still do not believe me."
My silence hangs heavy in the air, a raw, undeniable testament to my fear of being seen only as a tool to be used. Shineah searches my eyes, and the flicker of doubt she sees there makes her heart ache. Arion's words echo, louder now: *' He already fears a facade. You must state a prompt date and ask for nothing of Tormack until after the marriage.'* Her expression softens, the earlier frustration melting into a look of absolute resolve. She takes both of my hands in hers, her grip firm and warm. "Very well, Tormack," she says, her voice low and unwavering. "No more 'firsts,' no more 'onces.' We will be wed at the next full moon at your homestead. I will send word to Oakhaven for Arion to officiate and to bring whatever is needed. Until that day, I ask nothing of you but your presence. My vows are my own, freely given, and they begin now, with this promise of a date fixed and unmoving." She leans in, her gaze intense. "Is *that* clear enough, my stubborn barbarian?"
Disbelief spreads across my face. "You realize that is just three days away, right?"
A small, knowing smile touches Shineah's lips. "I am well aware, Tormack," she replies, her gaze unwavering. "Three days. Just enough time for Arion to make the journey with supplies and for us to prepare. No long, drawn-out preparations, no endless societal demands, just the two of us and our vows, under the Whisperwood's sky. It suits us, don't you think? A swift, true promise." Her grip tightens on my hands, conveying a silent challenge, an undeniable sincerity that leaves no room for further doubt.
The three days vanish in a whirlwind of activity. I work tirelessly, patching the roof, clearing brush, and even carving crude wooden seats near the sacred stones for the ceremony, trying to make room for company. Charlie and Grizz, sensing the shift in atmosphere, surprisingly aid in moving rocks and clearing paths, their large paws surprisingly gentle.
Arion arrives on the eve of the wedding, accompanied by a small pack mule laden with simple, fine clothes for Shineah and I, a small, intricate ceremonial dagger for the vows, and a surprisingly elegant, if slightly rumpled, officiant's robe.
I look at the dagger with great distaste. "A wedding is no place for weapons," I state, my voice firm, pushing the object away with a gentle hand. "Don't pollute this day with symbols of secret violence." I view it as an omen of getting stabbed in the back.
Arion blinks, caught off guard, a flush rising on his cheeks. "It's merely symbolic, Tormack," he stammers, "a tradition to cut the binding cord of the past and forge a new one for the future..."
Shineah, however, steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. Her eyes meet mine, a silent understanding passing between us. "He is right, Arion," she says, her gaze unwavering. "This day should be pure." She takes the dagger from Arion's hand and, with a decisive flick of her wrist, casts it into the nearby undergrowth, its glint swallowed by the leaves. "No symbols but our love, Tormack." A serene smile graces her lips.
Arion, recovering his composure, offers a warm smile. "Indeed," he says, his voice now clear and heartfelt. "No symbols but your love." He then turns to Shineah and I to guide us through the ceremonial marriage vows.
I look at each of the empty seats I made. "Is no one else coming?" A wave of self-consciousness hits me as I consider my orcish features. My gaze drops to the floor. I also wonder if this is some kind of sham, not to be taken seriously, but merely a ploy to use me.
Shineah shakes her head gently, sensing my unspoken questions. "No, Tormack," she explains, her voice soft but firm. "I brought no one else. This wedding isn't being held in secret out of embarrassment about your lineage. I am a leader in Oakhaven, yes, but not a queen. I don't need anyone else here. This wedding, Tormack, is *because* of my sincerity, not despite it. I rode away from Oakhaven without a retinue, without guards, without even a change of clothes beyond what Arion brought, to show you that my commitment is to *you*, not to the city's expectations or a political alliance." She squeezes my hands. "A grand wedding in Oakhaven would have been delayed for months by council approvals, by preparations, by all the trappings of state. It would have felt... performative. *This*," she gestures to the silent forest, to Arion's knowing smile, to Charlie and Grizz, "this is real. This is quick, private, and utterly devoted to the promise between us, unburdened by anything else. I needed you to see that. I needed *us* to have that. I chose *this* for us, Tormack. A swift, true union, away from the watchful eyes and political expectations of Oakhaven. I chose to come here, alone save for Arion, because it was the only way to show you, unequivocally, that my promise was genuine, not born of convenience or a performance for others."
"Are you planning on keeping this a secret?" I ask.
Shineah shakes her head assuringly. "No, Tormack," her voice clear and resolute. "When I return to Oakhaven, this union will be announced. Not as an 'elopement' to be hidden, but as a sworn oath, a new alliance. My friends and family, and indeed the entire city, will know of our marriage, of the man who saved them and now stands with them." She takes a deep breath, her gaze sweeping over my homestead. "It will be a formal declaration, a truth spoken aloud, for all to hear. For Oakhaven, it will be a rallying point, a symbol of hope and renewed strength against the Master. For us," she adds, her eyes meeting mine, "it will be the beginning of our public life together, an undeniable fact that puts any lingering doubts to rest. There will be no question of my sincerity, not after this."
A profound peace settles over me, a warmth spreading through my chest as Shineah's unwavering declaration finally washes away the last vestiges of my anxiety. She smiles, a genuine, radiant expression, seeing the relief in my eyes. "Good," she whispers, squeezing my hands.
The wedding dawns clear and crisp, the air alive with the scent of pine and damp earth. The forest hums with a gentle peace, the holy crystals of my homestead casting a soft, ethereal glow on the small gathering. Shineah, radiant in a simple, cream-colored gown that accentuates her strength, walks towards me through the dappled sunlight. Arion, his voice resonating with ancient wisdom, speaks of unity and purpose, of two spirits forged by trials. As we exchange vows, Charlie and Grizz sit like silent, majestic guardians beside us. Shineah's eyes, clear and unwavering, meet mine, and in them, I see not duty, but a profound, undeniable love, a promise as solid and enduring as the ancient stones around us. A profound sense of peace settles over us, deeper than any I've known.
The rest of the day is a blur of quiet celebration. Arion produces a modest meal he'd brought, and we all share it in the soft glow of the holy stones, the bears occasionally nudging for scraps, despite them even having their own meals. Laughter, light and genuine, fills the clearing. As dusk paints the sky in hues of violet and gold, a sense of belonging, a true home, envelops us. For the first time in a long time, the weight of the world seems to lift, replaced by the warmth of companionship and the promise of a shared future.
As the quiet celebration comes to a natural close, Arion, with a knowing wink, begins packing his meager belongings, readying himself for the return journey. Shineah, too, prepares her horse, her movements now imbued with a different kind of urgency– the urgency of fulfilling a promise and facing a renewed challenge. She turns to me, her hand resting briefly on my arm. "I must go, Tormack. Oakhaven still needs me, and I have a declaration to make." Her gaze is firm, resolute. "Rest here. Guard our home. And know that my heart is with you, always."
Once again, disbelief strikes me, leaving me dumbfounded. "What?! You are leaving me and running away on our wedding night?"
Shineah pauses, a hint of exasperation in her gaze that quickly softens to understanding. "Running away?" she echoes, a faint smile playing on her lips. "No, Tormack, I am running *towards* our future. I just vowed to you that I would announce our marriage in Oakhaven, not as an elopement, but as a public declaration. I also vowed that we would fight for a world where we can truly build our home together, safe from the Master's shadow. The danger has not passed, and Oakhaven still faces a threat." She gestures back towards the direction of the city. "Leaving tonight ensures I can make that declaration at the earliest possible moment, solidifying our bond for all of Oakhaven to witness. And it allows me to rally our forces against the Master without further delay. This is not abandonment, my love," she says, her voice firm and tender. "This is laying the foundation for the peace that our marriage deserves. It's a part of the promise I made to secure our safe, shared life."
*Perhaps she is afraid of getting pregnant during turbulent times.* I wonder. *Or maybe she is afraid…* My mouth hangs open as I consider the possibilities, not knowing what to say. *I wish she would talk to me.* Red flags are now going off in my mind again, wondering about the sincerity of all of this. *What good is announcing this to everyone when I am not there? Why doesn't she want me there?* This smells really strongly of a ploy.
Shineah, seeing my gaping silence and the confused, wounded look in my eyes, sighs softly. She knows my thoughts are straying, twisting her resolve into something it is not. Her horse shifts impatiently beneath her. "Tormack," she says, her voice gentler now, " Be patient. Build our home. I will return." With that, she reins her horse, offers a quick, reassuring nod, and spurs the animal, disappearing into the forest with Arion, leaving me standing in the clearing, the faint scent of horse and pine mingling with the lingering memories of our wedding, my mind still reeling.
I stand in the clearing, watching the last faint glow of Shineah and Arion disappear into the trees. My gaze drifts over my home – the sturdy walls I built, the glowing crystal, and the comfortable, rustic interior. It looks complete to me. I scratch my head, the silence of the clearing deepening around me. "I didn't marry her just for intimacy," I mutter to the rustling leaves, my voice barely a whisper. "And this night should prove that level of devotion to her."
With a sigh, I enter my home, the warmth of the hearth a small comfort against the unexpected chill of my lonely wedding night. Charlie and Grizz follow, settling near the door, their presence a silent, loyal vigil.