Gared had a long day ahead of him. He had agreed to marry into the Whitehills for the sake of his family and his true house, but as time had passed, Gared became grateful for his betrothal to Gwyn for more reasons than just peace. She hadn’t changed much from the way she was as a child, and what did change, Gared liked. She had truly blossomed from a girl to a woman, and although that made him nervous, he was happy to be able to see the difference.
Gwyn was mature, beautiful, and beyond intelligent. She knew how to run a house without really being trained, and she had a vision for success. She knew how to make an odd situation relaxing, and how to make his uncertain mind find a direction. He wasn’t sure if he would find this marriage to be to his liking, but after getting to relearn who Gwyn Whitehill was, Gared was finding himself falling in love with her.
There were only two things about the wedding than truly bothered Gared. One was the ceremony’s oddity. Other lords and ladies had mixed ceremonies like this, but Gared had never seen one. He wasn’t sure how it was going to go, and the practices he did felt odd to him. Saying the words of the Seven while in front of the tree of the Old Gods made him uncomfortable, but he had practiced all the same. He learned the words and could say them without batting an eye, but it still felt weird to do. He only needed to do it once more, however, so he tried his best to let the weird feeling dissipate.
The second thing about the wedding would be what would happen afterward. In the north, they had the bedding ceremony. He was unsure if Gwyn would want it, as it was optional, but he felt rather uncomfortable with it. Having her be carried by other men and have her dressed be torn by them would make them both uncomfortable, he assumed. However, whether they had the ceremony or not, the marriage would need to be consummated after the wedding. Being a man, he didn’t want to admit it aloud, but Gared was a virgin, and he had never even laid a land on a woman beyond what was normal. He had seen Talia and Mira in their undergarments before, but that was only when they were children, and that was nothing compared to seeing a fully grown woman in hers, or in even less. The thought of it made him blush and stutter, and he was unsure if he would even be able to consummate the marriage because of it. That wouldn’t start the marriage off well, and it’d be all his fault.
The wedding ceremony was about to begin, and Gared’s father was making sure his son was looking his best for the gods and for his new wife. He spoke tearful words about how proud of Gared he was and how he’d make such a wonderful lord. The man rarely spoke such soft words, and it made Gared want to hug him. They weren’t unfriendly with each other, but after Gared left to be a squire for Lord Forrester, the two had grown apart. Gared’s sister replaced him on the farm, so it was like he was never there. It didn’t bother him much, but as he looked as his father now, Gared’s heart ached for the time they had missed. Perhaps he should have visited more often, but now was not the time for sadness. He was getting married.
Standing at the base of the Weirwood, Gared waited for his bride to be presented to him. They had spoken before about the technicalities of their marriage, and he had agreed to take her last name, as she would be the head of the house. He didn’t regret his decision, but as he stood there waiting, it hit him that in a few moments, he would no longer be Gared Tuttle. He would never be Gared Tuttle again. He would forever now be known as Gared Whitehill, Lord of Highpoint. Months ago, that would have made him sick, but now, it felt right.
