A Fantastical Wedding and a Cliffside Chat

Ah, everyone loves a royal wedding. Truly a momentous occasion, the thing of fairytales. And the marriage between Tavalon and Orishenn was no exception.

I met Princess Lorelai of Orishenn on the day of her wedding when I crashed the ceremony.

Literally.

I crashed through the church window.

“The Pirate-Witch of Caelkirk has arrived to object this matrimony with my own wedding procession!” I bellowed to the crowd below. The guards had barely enough time to draw their weapons before the doorway burst open and my crew barrelled into the church.

Now, to be fair, it was the first time I laid eyes upon anybody in attendance (except maybe a few of the soldiers, if they’d been present at any of my earlier escapades). But the smartly-dressed nobles of the court, the bejewelled clergymen, the ornate royal families? They were but a sea of brightly coloured strangers being showered by shards of stained glass. They all blended together in a flurry of screams and shouts and flailing arms.

The only one who stood out among the fray was the Princess of Orishenn – and not just because she was my target, mind you. Even King Cedric of Tavalon standing beside her was washed away by her radiance. Her gossamer wedding dress had to be hundreds upon hundreds of yards of fabric and it glistened from every angle. From above, she looked like she was drowning in the centre of an iridescent pool.

She didn’t scream or try to shield herself. She didn’t look away as I fell towards her. I’d assumed the colour of her eyes in her portraits was an exaggeration, but no – her eyes truly did match the colour of the opals in her necklace. Those eyes watched me the whole time, her face set in place. She looked just like a portrait indeed. Perhaps she was in shock and having trouble grasping what was happening. Perhaps her hair was pulled back too tight for her to make any grand expressions.

My crew were doing an excellent job of keeping everyone preoccupied. There was no-one to stop me from planting my boot into the king’s face to soften my landing. He crumpled beneath me without any complaint.

“My princess, would you be so kind as to take my hand in matrimony instead?”

I didn’t wait for a reply, obviously. I climbed over the waves of her dress and clasped her hand in mine. I locked my legs against her back, pulling her in and trapping her against me. I raised my spare hand towards the rafters and clicked my fingers to summon the teleportation circle that would magic us away from here.

All in all, the kidnapping of Princess Lorelai of Orishenn took a minute, tops. But what an exciting minute it was. It was a wedding after all, things are supposed to be dramatic.

***

Royal weddings are only ever about politics. Princesses don’t marry for love, except in fairytales. She marries whoever someone else chooses for her.

I met Brienne the Pirate-Witch of Caelkirk on the day I was to seal the ties between two neighbouring kingdoms. Instead she whisked me away in a kidnapping that would surely go down in history. So much happened all at once – in a flurry of her fiery magic, we went from the screaming chaos of the church to bright open sky and the sound of the sea.

We were atop a windswept cliff battered by ocean waves. It could barely be considered Tavalon territory this far out.

My kidnapper was still clinging to me but I couldn’t hold up her weight any longer. My legs gave out and I sunk into the grass among a swath of skirts. Strands of my hair freed themselves from their bun and whipped around my face. My wedding dress billowed up and around me. I have no clue where my tiara ended up. Maybe it escaped over the cliff edge into the ocean and sailed away.

“There’s no point in trying to flee,” she said as she dismounted from my midsection. The sheath of her sword brushed against the side of my chest. Atop her head was a leather flying helmet and goggles. Her eyes glowed and flickered like flames that matched the colour of her hair. A bonafide pirate and a bonafide witch.

“If you’re a good girl and behave, I won’t have to tie you up.”

She winked at me. Charming.

“Quite theatrical, aren’t you?” I mused.

“She speaks!”

I hoisted myself up from the ground and trudged over towards the cliff’s rock-spattered edge.

“Careful now,” she said, “wouldn’t want you to fall.”

“It’s so calming here. The breeze is lovely.”

“…you know, you’re taking this all surprisingly well.”

I planted myself on a craggy boulder. Not the most comfortable place to be sitting, but there were so many layers in this dress that the pokes and prods of the rock were barely noticeable. I readjusted my hair so it wouldn’t distract me while I gazed out over the ocean. The waves rose and fell, rose and fell, as though the entire ocean was breathing slowly in and out, in and out, until they crashed into white foam below me.

Rising over the horizon was a speck of brown. That would be her airship. No other specks followed after it. Good.

She leaned down to me and pointed out to sea. “Do you see that? That’s my ship over there, right on schedule. And no other ships in sight. You know what that means? There’s no one coming to save you, princess. And my client should be here any minute now to come collect you. So be a dear and let me help you out of this dress. You won’t be needing it anymore.”

“No one else is coming, Brienne.”

“Oho, you know my name?”

I rested my chin in my hand.

“‘You are to disrupt the ceremony before the couple says ‘I do’. You are to ensure that the bride is delivered unharmed. Prepare a change of clothes to disguise the princess in.’ Need I go on?”

“…huh, well damn.”

The salt-spray tickled my lips.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you were my client in the first place?”

“And risk being found out should my letters be intercepted?”

“Ah, yeah that makes sense.”

“Besides, for all I knew, you wouldn’t be willing to help out someone like me.”

“Well that’s a bit presumptuous!”

“So I’m wrong?”

“…not wrong, but I’ve never gotten a job from someone royal before. This is definitely new territory for me.”

She sidled in close to my boulder. She must be allergic to respecting personal space. Not much I could do about it though – just because I’d hired her didn’t mean I wasn’t at her mercy right this moment.

“So, what made you choose me? My dashing looks? My nefarious reputation? My impeccable flirting skills? My bodacious—"

“You were the only witch in Caelkirk powerful enough to pull off a teleportation spell this far away.”

“Ooh, my incredible magical prowess, ey? I’ll take that. And it had to be someone from Caelkirk? No political alliances being betrayed I’m assuming?”

“I figured it was the best way to ensure Cedric wouldn’t blame my family for this.”

The airship was getting bigger, I could make out some of the sails now.

“And what’s your plan after this? Mayhaps a secret lover you want to run away with? That’s the only thing more romantic than a royal wedding.”

She nestled herself onto my boulder and swooned into me, hand to her forehead like a kid in a school play. My beautiful blue sea was overtaken by her shock of red hair blowing into my face.

“Oh, Sir Rodrick!” she cried, “you may only be a mere knight but I’d rather be a pauper with you than spend a lifetime of leisure with that pompous ass of a king! Let us run away into the sunset together and have a million babies!”

I couldn’t help it. I chuckled. Just a little bit.

“Thank you, thank you, I know I’m an incredible actor.”

“I already said that no one’s coming for me. No wicked enemy and no secret lover. I’m just running away on my own.”

“Running away to where exactly?”

“Nowhere in particular.”

“…that’s a stupid plan.”

“Maybe it is.”

“And a very lonely plan, too.”

“Maybe it is.”

My head felt heavy in my hand. I propped my elbow up on my knee.

“Do you know why Orishenn royal wedding dresses have so many layers in them?” I asked. “It is tradition to add a layer for every wedding that came before. It doesn’t matter who she marries or where she’s married off to, if a woman has Orishenn blood, she carries our history with her on her wedding day. This dress I’m in has 166 layers in it”

Just because the thread was spiderweb thin didn’t mean I couldn’t feel its weight. Beneath the surface of this dress I carried my sisters and my mother and my grandmothers and every single other woman that came before me, all the way back to the beginning of my family line with a woman in a simple, modest, single-layered gown. My sisters have already started having daughters of their own – if I had a daughter, how many layers would she wear on her wedding day? How many layers could she withstand before they crushed her?

I could hear the hooting and hollering of the other pirates carried over the wind now.

The ocean view was truly beautiful. I wish I could stay like this forever.

I was gripped by my shoulders and spun around and my view was taken up by the Pirate-Witch’s face. Her eyes were ablaze, literally and figuratively.

“Miss Lorelai, my boys are almost here and I still need to help you get changed.”

She unsheathed her sword.

“Wait, hang on, what are you—”

She plunged into the depths of my dress. The blade completely disappeared into its depths. She pulled until the fabric gave way. Precise enough that she didn’t knick skin, rough enough that skirts and flounces and petticoats were ripped into shimmering shreds.

I tore at the parts the sword had missed, fervently flinging fistfuls of lace behind me like I was shovelling for some sort of treasure. The bite of the wind stung more and more. By the time I was down to my chemise I was freezing.

Breathing heavy, I looked to the sky and watched as 166 layers of glittering history sailed away on the breeze. Brienne clicked her fingers and a simple red dress grew around me, complete with pantaloons and a coat. I undid my mother’s opal necklace from around my throat and held it out to her.

“Thank you for a job well done. You’ll be needing the second half of your payment before you go.”

“Yes, yes, very good, but there’s another matter that needs addressing first.”

“Um, pardon?”

“Miss Lorelai, if you truly have no solid plans for your future after this, then how about you try out life aboard my airship?”

“…what?”

“It wouldn’t be as glamorous a life as you’re used to, but I take great care of my crew and by god is it fun. If you don’t like it, I’ll just drop you off somewhere nice.”

“…what?”

The airship was upon us, ready to land.

In about five minutes, Brienne the Pirate-Witch of Caelkirk went from kidnapping me to recruiting me as an amateur pirate.