TEENER 

Dear Diary, 

I haven't talked to you in a long while, huh? I apologize. It's nothing you've done - I just haven't had the words. Or, rather, I had the words, but didn't know what to do with them. I can't use lack of time as an excuse to you either. It's just you and me now, for a few hours. Captive audience to one another.

As I type words to you, Diary, I realize how much I've missed you. We were like peas and carrots at one time, remember? Every little thing that happened, good or bad - I shared it with you. All my wishes, thoughts, needs - everything - typed in neat Arial 10pt font, just for you.

Didn't have anyone else. Didn't need anyone else. We enjoyed my solitary life, didn't we? Came and went as we pleased. Saw who we wanted. Had no one to answer to.

Where did the road split? When did I start ignoring you for other things? How could I forsake a friend that was there with me unconditionally? Why am I so surprised when others do the same to me? Touché, Diary. Point well made. I deserved that. Can we go back to the way it was before? Can I trust you with all my secrets? I knew I could. What was that? Yes, you are right. It all started when I made the decision to play this Game. You warned me, Diary. I didn't know what I was giving up. My simple, calculated, peaceful, organized life. Happy now?

I look at Hando, catching a nap next to me. Earphones connected to his MP3 player in his ears. Deep breathing. A state of contentment, it would seem. Like a sleeping lion. I'm quelling my desire to reach out and touch his face. How can any woman keep their mitts off a man such as this? His long eyelashes alone drive me to gently blow on his face but I'm distracted by the unfamiliar glint of gold next to his face - his left hand. I look down at my own left hand, decorated with its mate.

No, Diary, I promise I will not abandon you. I need you more than ever now, I'm sure of it. The intermittent foresight I have tells me that there are bumpy roads ahead and I will need an unflinching, unwavering friend. I'll need you.

Where to start, Diary? The beginning? Good place: Hando all but startled me out of my skin when he joined me in the glider swing on the deck at Isobel and Cort's house.

The deck. 

The place where all the action happened on Stag Night. Maybe not all the action, but the part that interested me the most. But that wasn't why I was sitting there. There was no symbolism, no point to be derived, although Hando seemed a bit edgy about me being so close to "that" particular spot. His eyes pinioned from me to the spot and back - over and over. I didn't acknowledge him, but was aware all the same.

Did I leave some details out, Diary? My bad. Hando had scheduled a trip for us to visit the Mother Tree. We were initially here to have a quiet memorial service for my alter ego - the abused girl of my youth - the person who reared her unsettled soul and skewed my world to opposite angles. In the time since he added the date to the calendar, he popped the question and I accepted. This was to be a sort of kill two birds with one stone visit. Opting for an intimate affair, we sent invitations to the sisters on his list and their respective Number Ones. I only hope that the others didn't feel excluded. That was never our intention.

Things change, as they do in any world, and Hando's list became shorter by one. 

Even though the invite was still extended to Maximus, he politely begged off, sending his warmest wishes and a crate of his best wine from the vineyard. 

Heather was already at the Temple, visiting Nash. Lachlan was on a visit with Ann, so he wouldn't be attending. That left the 5 of us. Isobel, Cort, Heather, Hando, and me. 

I mentioned changes. The one to Hando's list wasn't all. Although I was fully prepared for the memorial service, the ceremony at sunset was another matter. It went beyond cold feet. Impending disaster is a better definition.

There you have it, Diary. Caught up now? May I continue? Oh, you are so kind...

The deck was a quiet area where I could sit, close my eyes, and listen to the beautiful symphony of wind chimes. A place to gather my thoughts. Desperately trying to overcome the irritating lump that had developed in my throat. Big day for me, you see. I was to be exiting one plane of life and entering another. I had begun to wonder which would be which.

Thunder cracked overhead. The morning sky was quickly turning a smoky black. The wind, gentle when I perched myself on the swing, was now beginning to bash the wind chimes erratically.

Hando. More stoic than normal. Fidgety, even. Regardless of where we were sitting, he had been like this since we left Arkansas. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and upper lip, yet the temperature was cool and falling. Popping his knuckles. Another sign.

I would have spoken some soothing words. I would have inquired as to his thoughts, but the past week had taught me better. Not one syllable I uttered hadn't been met with a snap or cutting remark - followed by a hasty exit out of the room or a 'forgive me' plead in his eyes as he turned away.

As much as I wanted to lash back at him. As much as I wanted to cancel this trip and shove my diamond ring down his throat, the goddess gave me control. Enough will power to let him mourn the loss of his lover on his own.

Hando is not one to accept coddling or pity. Ever. No matter who is offering it. 

The only time he allowed his guard down is in the bedroom. No, not for that...I gave up instigating that sort of activity when he stomped out of our bedroom and lay down in his own bed for the night. I mean when he and I did share the same bed, he would hold me tight and casually glide his fingers along my arm. I was allowed to touch him then. Again, no words.

He dreamt of her. Mumbling half sentences that made no sense to me. What was I to do? What is the appropriate length of time that I was supposed to give my mate before I drew the line? Before I tell him that the earth isn't big enough for her memory and me?

I was just as hurt as he, but had no one to talk to. (I know, Diary - you were there and I didn't come to you. Forgive?) That isn't entirely true. I did speak my heart to Jack, but it wasn't until after our visit that I realized how much I would miss the friendship of another such as her. I wouldn't even know where to start with any of the others. So busy in their lives. My troubles are but a grain of salt in their worlds. I sit by, in awe of each of them - so sure in their path. All of them talented and refined on a higher level than me. Here I am, a little redneck chick - no job - no use in life. Okay, so my garden needs me. Okay, so Dino says he has some work for me. I'm sure it's some simple busy work to keep me pacified. But you know what I mean, don't you? It just wasn't obvious to me until she left. What am I really to Hando? I can't give him children. I can't do much for him except give him head on command. I'm not even sure that I can satisfy his appetites like I once could. I think of all the rough play, the bondage, the Dominant/submissive games that we performed. All the things that delighted him so. Would I ever be up to that again?

There are people who have it much worse than I. I should take what I'm being offered and accept it - and be grateful. I should be grateful to Hando for wanting to make me his, although I feel he is making a grave mistake. He deserves much more than what he is getting.

I had but the rest of this morning and the afternoon to decide what to do. It was obvious that this marriage was far more important to him than to me. He is a method man, Diary. You know that. Everything he does is calculated by some measure or another. A purpose. This one I didn't understand. He knew I wasn't going anywhere. Why go through all this? It's not like the whole family is here to witness it. Why here? Why now? Why bother?

I contemplated making a run for it - just escape the suffocation of responsibility, but I know better. Someone from Thorne and O'Leary would be waiting for me before I'd even decided where I was going. The only way out of it was to face him and stand my ground. Tell him that he meant the world to me. Explain what a big mistake marriage would be. Make him understand that I was not the marrying kind. A nice comfy fuckbuddy and friend. He would see that damaged goods don't make life partners.

Yes Diary, I know. I have selfish reasons too. No sneaking by you, huh? Ok, I'll spill. How does it feel to see Hando look at a baby, look at other people's children, and know that I can't give that to him? To see the sparkle in his eyes fade when he once again realizes he is saddled with me. Yes, adoption is a great thing - but you don't know Hando. He's the sort that needs to see his mate's belly swollen with his offspring. He's as primal as they come. The ultimate way to mark another as his. Diary, I just couldn't deal with that - every day.

I'm sure Cort wouldn't let him hurt me, if it came to blows. Lord yes, he would be angry. He would be hurt beyond measure I imagine, but he would eventually see that it was all for the better years later when he found a new mate and was surrounded by children. His children. I didn't know what to do, Diary. I felt alone, scared, and trapped.

Hando reached for my hand - enclosed it in his, and brought it to his lips. "You still want to do this alone?" A quiet warm tone, almost a whisper. Damn him for that gesture. I was trying to decide the fate of my world, and there he goes being tender.

"Yes." Such a simple word, but it wasn't what I wanted. In the final moments before departing with Cort, I felt that I really did need for him to be with me for this. Yet, I had the distinct feeling that he was too overwhelmed with other things to accompany me that morning. Even though this entire thing was his idea...his and the shrink's. "Need closure." "Gotta put the past behind you."

Says who? What about what I want? 

Uneasy silence. Hando wanted to say something, but he couldn't muster the courage to do so. 

Cort appeared in the doorway. "There you two are! Ready for the ceremony?" Like we were jerked from one reality to another, we stared at him in confusion. "Getting cold feet, are you? It is a big step. You have the rest of the day to decide whether or not to bind yourselves to each other for the rest of your lives. Not a big deal, eh?" he chuckled.

Hando let out a sigh right after I did. He was referring to my "closure" ceremony - not the...that...you know... 

"Daylights a-wastin' - better mosey on that way. Are you prepared? Do you need to gather anything to take along?" he asked us. 

"No. It's now or never." I stood up and walked in his direction. Hando stayed seated. 

"Hando? Aren't you coming along, son?" 

Not wanting to make him feel put on the spot, I chimed in, "No - I want to do this alone - with you of course." I grinned. I winked at Hando and he nodded, ever so slightly at me - in a display of thanks. I placed a kiss on his forehead. It may be the last time I would touch my lips to his skin if he didn't take my news well that afternoon. I turned away before he could catch my gaze. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep my tears at bay.

HANDO 

Come down on your own and leave your body alone somebody must change 
You are the reason I've been waiting all these years somebody holds the key 
Well, I'm near the end and I just ain't got the time 
And I'm wasted and I can't find my way home 

--Steve Winwood 

Thoughts, words, promises. Flying in my head with no direction. I could see what I was doing to Teener, but didn't know how to fix it. She had every right to curse me send me away, but she didn't. I wasn't sure if she was allowing me to dig my own grave or if she was trying to be understanding. Whatever her motives, I couldn't let myself get carried away with my own disappointment. Not today, of all days.

We had discussed the memorial at great length - weeks ago. Teener had suggested that she attend it alone with Cort. I felt a bit dejected at first, but grew to understand her desire to face the last chapter alone. A show of courage.

Standing on her own two feet. 

Standing on her own. 

Besides losing my #2 and a potential chance to have a child (which I haven't shared with Teener. I'm not sure if I will.) I wondered if marrying was such a grand idea after all. Why should I tie her down? What sort of husband would I be to her? I'm not exactly Family of the Year material. I have bad habits that l like and will not give up for anyone or anything. I have a different view on life from most people. What would she be binding herself to?

I couldn't crap out now. I'd pushed her into this. If I told her I'd changed my mind, how would she take it? Would she see it as rejection? Would she take it personally?

Fuck. 

The frustration and confusion was taking its toll. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to kill. Anything to purge the uncertainty and make me feel a sense of control.

Shuffled down the stairs off the deck and began walking. Anywhere. I was suffocating. 

TEENER

"Looks like it's gonna storm, Cort. Shouldn't we do this inside?" 

He sniffed the air - the same humid air I was breathing and said, "Nope. Ain't gonna rain. Not on your day, it ain't." 

Shows what he knows - I watched the weather that morning and saw the radar. It was gonna be a monsoon. Par for the Teener course, no? Seemed a fitting backdrop to the storm I may be causing later.

"We could ride if walking tires you, darlin'." 

"Nah, I need the exercise." 

He talked for a bit about what he'd been up to since Temple Week, deftly dodging the most obvious Perve World subject. I replied with well placed "Ohs" and "Uh huhs" and "Oh reallys". I was busy rehearsing my speech. Practicing all my replies to Hando's comebacks. Making the ship watertight.

"Ok. I give." 

"What?" 

"I know this is a big day for you, but you aren't acting like the blushing bride-to-be, darlin'." 

"I'm sorry, Cort - I..." 

"Nope." 

"What?" 

"There will be no I'm sorrys. No apologies needed here, but I do think you need to confess. When was your last confession, my child?" 

The wind whipped his hair about his head. 

"Come on, Cort - I'm not Catholic. I'm not really anything." 

Not really anything. 

"This is the Church of Cort, Teener." He mused, "All the sisters are welcome to pray at my altar, regardless of religious preference." 

"Oh, I just bet they are. They don't call you Fucking Preacher for anything," I snorted. Another thunder snap from above. 

He stopped and pulled me around to face him. 

"Oh, now that is not fair, Preacher." 

That devastating grin. 

"Fair? What do you mean?" he whispered as he pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. 

"You know. I am helpless when you look at me like I'm your Last Supper and you are the wolf in sheep's clothing." 

He chuckled at my remark. 

"They just don't know, do they?" 

I furrowed my brow in confusion. 

"No one really knows how special you are. I'd bet my favorite boots that Hando doesn't even begin to fathom what he has." 

I blushed and looked at my feet, crunching the leaves with my toe on the wooded path. 

"Look at all that you have overcome. You've led many lifetimes in your moons on this earth. What you've seen and experienced would drive most souls insane. Yet here you are with me. Here you are for Hando - the most hopeless of us all. I'm not sure that I've ever seen a man love another the way Hando does you. Things he does aren't always sensible, but they are grounded in his feelings for you. For that one thing alone I will be forever grateful to you. He and I will not always see eye to eye, but I always have his best interest at heart.

"And you - the time we've shared hasn't been one to fill romance novels, but I feel blessed that you have allowed me to share in your darkest of days. Allowed me to help guide you home. I hope that very soon you'll ask for me and we can have a proper visit - peaches and all?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I sank and began weeping. I sobbed with a power that pulled Cort along with me to our knees. The thunderheads boomed overhead and my heart skipped beats.

"You know you can't go any further on the path until you deal with where you've been." He stroked my hair and rocked me - much like he did all those months ago down the gravel road behind my house.

I pulled back and wiped my eyes on my shirt and then on the handkerchief Cort offered. "I think I'm ready to confess now." He smiled, helped me to my feet, and led me to a nearby uprooted tree to sit and hear my words.

I let it all go. My anger. My sadness. My betrayal. My loneliness. My ineptitude. I asked him how I let go. How can I forget a person who helped nurse me back to health...who was there for Hando when I wasn't because of my own selfishness? How was I supposed to start all over with others who were busy leading their own lives - managing their own trials? How was I supposed to stand by and let Hando self-destruct in his sorrow? Why would I want to marry him? Why would he want me? Why was I here? Why was the thought of going back to my own portal, no return ticket - sounding so much better than what I had to face here?

Bless his patient heart, he didn't shrink back in the face of my queries. He shared his wisdom with me. He dried my tears. He reminded me of what I had to be thankful for.

Honestly, I don't remember all the things he said - I can only recall how good it felt to talk to someone that listens. I hadn't changed my mind about the talk I would have with Hando later, but I did feel stronger and more confident than I did sitting on the deck.

Quit looking at me like that, Diary. I know - you were there for me too, but I ignored you. 

Cort and I walked for 15 more minutes, I'd say. Following him to the place that he and Isobel had selected for me. There at the foot of the most magnificent oak tree I'd ever witnessed was a simple stone tablet engraved with this poem:

Only nature has a right to grieve perpetually, for she only is innocent. Soon the ice will melt, and the blackbirds sing along the river which he frequented, as pleasantly as ever. The same everlasting serenity will appear in this face of God, and we will not be sorrowful, if he is not.

--Henry David Thoreau

I knelt before it and said some silent words to myself and to the girl I was laying to rest there. 

I pulled a necklace from my pocket. An old locket containing a picture of my mom and my dog. It was her...my...our favorite necklace - back then. I kissed it and laid it over the tablet. I stood and nodded to Cort.

He had prepared a beautiful remembrance, which he executed flawlessly and from his heart. 

As he closed, a ray of sunshine shone through the trees and spotlighted the tablet. 

I gasped and looked up at the sun and then to Cort. He pulled a toothpick out of his pocket, stuck it between his teeth and grinned. "See? Shame on you for doubting your Preacher, little one."

I giggled and shook my head, staring back at the beautiful stone remembrance of a girl whose innocence was ripped away. Perhaps now she could rest peacefully. I silently promised her that I would record her story and mine. I would remember the people who helped us through our ordeal and I would never forget. Like the dark clouds in the sky, I felt the shadows fall away. She was satisfied. She would haunt me no more.

"Hold your hand out." I complied and stared at the acorns from the oak tree he placed there. "Plant these back home to symbolize renewed life. The life that you and Hando will lead together.

"Thank you." I nodded, offering him a half smile, not making eye contact. 

"Whooo - look at the time! I better get you back to the house before Isobel tans my hide. There is much to do!" 

The meaning of his statement was lost on me. I was burying myself in my safe place. Preparing for the inevitable. 

I looked around Isobel's house for Hando when we returned, to no avail. "Damn him and his solitary tendencies," I muttered. 

Mentally rearranging my timetable for the day, I entered the kitchen hand in hand with Cort. I was excited to see Heather waiting there with Isobel. We chatted for a bit before I was put on the spot about my preparations for the big event.

"Come on, girl - get a move on!" I couldn't protest because they were quite literally carrying me - arm in arm - out the door and into the car. 

With Arthur chauffeuring and keeping within acceptable speed limits, Heather and 

Isobel were the ones going ninety miles an hour. You would have thought they were twins the way one would start a sentence and the other would finish it. I was laughing so hard, I just knew I'd hurl. When the conversation would subside, I'd gather my courage to announce my plans to call the ceremony off - but not before the two of them began deciding what sort of dress I'd wear and how my hair should be worn.

I was carted in and out of more dress shops than I'd ever been in - in my life. 

I had insisted that I didn't need a dress. "Bullshit" Isobel said. "There wasn't one stitch of appropriate nuptial apparel in your luggage - I checked already."

"You did what?" I was astonished. 

She pulled me to the side at the spa as Heather explained in great detail to the stylist how every hair on my head should be placed and exact amount of makeup that was to be applied.

"Enough of this. I know what's going on in that head of yours. I can't believe you'd even consider it after everything that has happened. Don't you think you are being selfish?" Her face was inches from mine, eyes serious and hard as steel.

I opened my mouth, in astonishment. Had I been that obvious? Was it evident by my actions? I tried to recount everything I had done and said since Hando and I arrived at Isobel's house and could not imagine where I had dropped the mask.

"Quit trying to figure out how I know, Teen - and stop with the deer in the headlights look, will ya?" 

Within the span of a few seconds, I went through the gamut of emotions - surprise, anger, embarrassment, sadness, and submission. My ire stemmed from someone else trying to tell me what to do. Embarrassed and sad that someone called my bluff and thinking that I would intentionally hurt the man I love by taking the easy way out of a difficult situation.

In the end I could only return her gaze. She was, after all, the Priestess. She knew things about me that I didn't and maybe would never know. Of course she would have picked up on my thoughts. I never said a word.

"That's better. Now - not that you need it, but we have lots of beautifying to do." Isobel hugged me close and I realized an important thing. There were other people in our world that were looking out for Hando and I. How could I have thought we were destined to walk together alone? I smiled at her when she stepped back.

"Hey! Hellllo! We have so much to do and you two are huddled in a corner snogging - let's GO!" 

"Heather!" I cried. Isobel laughed heartily. 

And what a time we had! We all enjoyed the works at the spa. Massage, manicure, pedicure, hair, makeup - nothing was left unpampered - well - almost nothing.

All the while, Isobel was trying to bestow some advice on marriage, while 

Heather argued nearly every comment playfully. It was a great moment for me, one 

I would treasure in my heart's hope chest. One I could take out and remember when life wasn't being kind. 

"Alright, Teen - did you see a dress that you liked at any of the stores?" Isobel queried. Before I could respond, Heather leapt in with her opinion. 

"Oh, pick the first one you tried on - it was so perfect so...you." 

I grinned knowingly at them both. Heather was right on target. The first one I tried on was also my favorite. "The pale blue one." The one that made me feel...all girly. It just...I wished it covered more of me than it did.

"Great! We can pick up some unmentionables on the way - I know a perfect place!" 

Isobel smiled luridly. 

Heather caught my expression of uncertainty about the dress. She placed her hand on mine. "It'll just be us, girl. Don't worry about these." She traced a scar with her other hand. I shook my head. "We'll find something, ok?"

Snapped back to Isobel's toothy grin and comment about unmentionables, I responded, "Oh you two - and Arthur! - have been too much already. Lingerie looks best when it's laying on the floor anyway, there really isn't any need for..."

"Come on, T! Wouldn't you like to give Hando a prezzie to open? Hmmm? I'll bet he'd like it..." Heather supplied. 

She had a point there, after all - how many times do you have a wedding night? 

That is, if you're not Elizabeth Taylor... 

HEATHER

The Temple. Lachlan's bed. Odd that I should find myself here again considering how I felt about Temple week and yet here I am. Lachlan was with Ann in Louisiana. I was having a visit with Nash but as the late summer sunrise sent dappled light through the window and made strange, random patterns across the wooden floor, it wasn't Lachlan or John who dominated my thoughts. It was Hando.

I never really know where to start when speaking of him. It is like trying to describe a storm pounding a beach. I never really manage to express the full scope of the experience. Or uncover all its hidden nuances. Hando is like that. Mercurial. Elusive, for all his blunt crudity.

Please come. Though we wish for a simple private ceremony, Hando feels it would be incomplete without his Number Two and Number Three in attendance.

 

But between the time I received the invitation and the time I arrived at the Temple, everything had changed. So I guess that makes me his Number Two by default. Not that I wouldn't have jumped at that chance.... but I never wanted it like this. He didn't either. He is a wild creature but one capable of great emotion. Rage. Passion. Anger. Lust. Sorrow. Happiness.... although I think that might be the most frightening of all for him. He has always had a much more intimate relationship with rage and pain than he has ever had with happiness or joy.

Today was supposed to have been a day of golden moments for him but instead of it being a singularly happy occasion where in the company of trusted friends he might have revealed a part of himself he usually guards fiercely, he was reminded of his loss. He feels her absence deeply. I think he always will. He does not give his trust and affection easily and I know her departure cut his fragile heart deeply.

Fragile heart. It seems an odd phrase to use with Hando, but it's true nonetheless. Not fragile in the tender sense of hearts and flowers and fuzzy kittens. Fragile in the sense that he guards it so zealously, allowing so few close to him that the act of sharing it is a thing so shocking it is almost foreign to a man who lived for so long locked in hatred, alone and unloved.

In recent weeks, we have not talked as much as we usually do. Though we are usually quite open with one another, I felt my candor might be too intrusive. I am not a wise woman, but I do know that whatever special bond we share doesn't give me absolute freedom with him. It doesn't grant me the right to his secrets and I know I cannot pull this thorn from his paw no matter how much I wish I could.

Looking back, I wish I had done more. Said more. Emailed or phoned him more often. Part of that was my fear of overstepping my bounds with him, and truthfully, part of that was because I was wholly absorbed in the deepening relationships in my own life. Lachlan. Terry. Dean. Selfish but true. And to be honest, though I was deeply moved when I received the invitation, I was also hesitant to come. Not because I was reluctant to witness this golden moment made by two people I care deeply for, but because finding my level with Hando wasn't easy to begin with and now we must find a new level. I hadn't seen him since the opening of his shop... God, and now I am his new Number Two. I cannot fill her shoes. I wouldn't even try. But I must move forward. I want to and yet I don't want to.

I guess mostly I'm afraid I will let him down. 

Egan drove me over from the Temple to the Mother Tree early that morning. 

Technically I was on a visit with John, but a visit with him was.... well, atypical, I suppose. We'd had some delightful conversations and shared some incredibly erotic moments in his bed, but John was still John. He spent most of his time lost in his work and I spent the time relaxing, thinking, chatting with the other men, renewing and strengthening the friendships I'd made with some of them during Temple week.

At the Mother Tree, Egan saw me in but declined an offer for a cup of tea, leaving me standing on the porch as he inclined his head and brusquely touched the brim of his hat before driving off. Arthur invited me in and explained that Cort was taking a walk with Teener and that Hando had sat in stony silence until they'd disappeared among the trees and then he'd chosen to strike out in the opposite direction, giving them his back without so much as a single word. Typical.

See, that's one of those moments I'm talking about. On the surface, all you see the boorish behavior of a man whose very skin marks him as someone who's chosen to live on the fringes of society. And watching him walk away you'd think 'gee, he's behaving just like I thought his kind would'. When in truth, he's probably hurting and confused and didn't say anything because he didn't trust himself to speak civilly. And this day, above all others, he wouldn't be disrespectful. Hando might be a hard man, but he's a bit of a soft touch for tradition at times.

Arthur and I had a wonderful conversation at the kitchen table over a pot of coffee. We talked about the events of the day, of course, but come on... under all that starch, Arthur really is a bit cheeky.  We definitely gossiped. How could we not?  By the time we'd finished talking, my face hurt from smiling so much.

I was working my way through my third cup of coffee and a sticky cinnamon bun (Cort, do I see your hand in that?!) when Teener returned, hand in hand with Cort. It was obvious she'd been crying, but she was smiling sweetly now and a peaceful look was reflected in the soft blue of her eyes. That same peace radiated out from Cort in waves. Brother and Father. A gentle guiding hand, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and more sexual magnetism than you could shake a stick at.

He greeted me with a wide smile (and his woman with a kiss and a little something whispered in her ear that made a blush rise to her cheeks). With a grin, she whispered something back to him and he just shook his head in amusement and ran a hand through his thick hair. The light in his eyes changed and as his gaze flicked from her to the sticky frosting of the cinnamon buns and back again, I swear the heat in the kitchen rose ten degrees.

Cort flashed us all a knowing grin. "'Scuse me, ladies..." I thought he'd make a joke about wantons needing guidance but he didn't.  He just sauntered out with a smile and that slow, rolling gait of his.  After the door banged shut behind him, Arthur filled us in.  Cort had plans to spend some time alone today, praying and preparing for the ceremony that would be held today at sunset. Of course, that naturally turned our attention to Teener and the question that everyone always asks a bride to be. What does your dress look like?

I felt bad for Teener. There was color in her cheeks as she admitted she didn't bring anything special. She was fidgeting and plucking at her shirtsleeve absently. I knew just how she felt. I experienced the exact same thing standing next to Uma in Manila. Like I was the most unsophisticated, plain girl in the world. Poor Teener. She just wasn't a girly girl. I really wasn't either, certainly nowhere near as stylishly elegant as Uma was, but I do have a good eye for color. And Lach's gold card. I knew the others would take care of the rest.

So with a bit of cajoling on our parts and some adorable stalling tactics on Teener's part, we dragged her off for a day of... well, girlification, I suppose. Arthur drove us. He was tickled pink to do it. He was a godsend, knew all the quickest routes around the city. All the best shops. (Something tells me he's been shopping with the girls before!) And of course, his organization and planning are second to none. He waited in the car without complaint (lingerie store, you should have seen him blush!), carried our purchases, was the runner when we needed him to be.... and a fine judge of dresses when we needed a man's opinion. He even brought us lattes and almond biscotti while we were waiting at the salon for them to finish up with Teener.

He nearly dropped dead when he saw what we'd done to her. If his reaction is anything to go by, Hando is going to be incredibly pleased. Not that he doesn't like her just the way she is, but I think even he appreciates a soft touch now and again. I do have to admit though, we did our share of scheming while Teener was out of earshot. We didn't want to change her too much. No formal wedding gown. No fantastically ornate hairdo. No heavily made up face. We wanted to enhance her natural beauty. Something soft and feminine but nothing that would render her unrecognizable to herself or to Hando.

I have to say, she was a vision. Manicure. Pedicure. New silver toe ring. Her hair trimmed but not cut, and styled to fall around her shoulders in shiny waves. I know Hando prefers it down and it fit so well with the informal style of dress we all decided on. A soft blue dress, so pale it was almost white. Thin straps at the shoulders, square neck, princess waist with a gorgeous silk skirt that flowed gracefully around her ankles when she moved. It had a gauzy overlay shot through with a subtle iridescence. In that dress with her pale hair, she looked like starlight breathed to life.

I could tell she loved the look of the dress but was uncomfortable bearing so much skin, or perhaps it was that she was uncomfortable bearing her scars. In any case, we found sheer shawl of the same pale blue, edged with a touch of lace crafted to look like a cross between flowers and stars. It was perfect. It set off her golden skin and allowed it to show through while still giving her the illusion of modesty. We skipped shoes altogether. Pretty dress, the softest hint of makeup, hair down and barefoot? Hando was going to swallow his tongue. So's Lach when he gets his next credit card statement... but a girl only gets married once!

Besides, maybe I'll get lucky and he'll decide I need to work it off. Heh. 

When we were done, we ate a light lunch in the city at a little mom and pop place Arthur knew of. We giggled and gossiped. Arthur said little and tried not to drool over Teener. I found myself thinking how much he'd changed since his film. He'd filled out some, dressed casually but not sloppily.

(Lach and Terry - are you taking notes?!) His soft lilt was just the thing we needed to calm us all down after our whirlwind shopping spree and he was the perfect gentleman, holding out our chairs and proudly paying for our meal. It seems he enjoys quite a generous paycheck for all the work he does at the Temple.

For all her protesting, it was clear Teener was enjoying herself and I had the thought that Hando was probably enjoying it as well. He liked to see his woman looked after. We arrived back at the Mother Tree in the early afternoon and Arthur whipped up a batch of his special margaritas for us before we disappeared upstairs, purchases and drinks in hand.

Back in the bedroom, we set out the dress and shawl so they wouldn't wrinkle and sat back, relaxing and talking in that wonderful way we girls always seem to do. A soft tap at the door revealed Arthur bearing a single gift, a simple bouquet of white tulips bound by a blue satin ribbon. What a wonderful partner he will make some lucky girl. He blushed as he kissed Teener's cheek and offered her a traditional wedding prayer in Welsh before he departed. The next knock brought Cort, also bearing a gift. A white lace garter he reminded us was traditionally placed on the bride's thigh by her father, a position he said he'd have no trouble filling when she was 'all done up in her finery' and ready for him to slip it on. Sweet and shameless. How could any woman not adore him?

Now that we were sure we'd have a bit of peace with Teener as both Arthur and Cort had taken themselves off, we had one last ace up our sleeve. Cort's woman stepped forward and smiled at Teener as she retrieved something from a jewelry box on the dresser.

"Something old." She pinned Cort's silver sheriff's star to the satin ribbon on the bouquet. Teener's eyes widened with surprise and then her face softened, both at the gift and because we cared enough to fulfill this tradition with her on her special day.

"Something new." I stepped forward and handed her a small velvet box. Earrings of Australian gold. "They're from Lach. He wanted to be here but he couldn't. He sent these instead." She fingered them gently and put them on, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

"Something borrowed." I took off the necklace I was wearing and fastened it around Teener's neck. A single pearl on a gold chain. I've had it for years but that didn't stop everyone from making jokes about pearl necklaces of a different sort. Come on, do you really think we would be any different? Even in our serious moments, we girls have a hell of a lot of fun together. When we settled back down again - and I must say, it was quite a while before that happened - the mood grew serious. We stepped forward again.

"Something blue." It was a five pointed star set with sapphires of varying hues, from ice blue to deep indigo. A decorative comb to hold back her hair. Cort and his woman, two gifts so similar. Two guiding stars for my dear friend. I thought about the star. The pentagram. The Eastern Star. The Seal of Solomon. Five points - earth, air, fire, water, and spirit. A symbol of universal totality.

How fitting for this moment. 

It also has a long history of being used as a protective symbol. In Nordic countries they used to carve that mark on their doors to ward off evil and invoke the aid of protective forces. I think of all my girlfriends, she could use the protection, the strength and peace it would bring her as she moved forward into this new phase of her life. Hando would appreciate it as well. The surname he has chosen - Martin - it has Norse roots, not surprisingly. He is Hando, after all.

We hugged Teener and then with a deftness I was envious of, watched her get her hair twisted up elegantly behind one ear and pinned it in place as we both heard the softly intoned the words. "May the gold star shine brightly in the sky to light your path during the day and may the blue stars come out at night to guide you and your love for all the days of your life."

I heard footsteps in the hallway and then Cort's voice, steady and strong. "Amen."

We smiled at the response he got from his woman.

"And by the power of three times three, as we will it, so shall it be." 

"Halleluiah." You could hear the smile in Cort's voice as the footsteps faded away. 

Teener laughed and we shared a moment of a different sort of sisterhood before I quietly slipped away, leaving the two of them to discuss the coming ceremony.  There were some things that were for Teener and Teener alone.  Actually, I was glad she wanted some time alone with Teener. I wanted to find Hando and see how he was doing. Usually it's the bride to be who needs looking after, but I think in this case the groom could probably use a friend too.

I ran into Cort and Arthur down in the kitchen, both helping themselves to the leftover cinnamon buns from breakfast. Arthur had a 'cuppa' and Cort had coffee. Cort was licking his fingers as I came in - Lord, watching that nearly gave me a heart attack! - while Arthur jumped to his feet, offering me his chair, a pastry and a fresh cuppa. He's absolutely adorable. I want to wrap him up and take him home with me. I declined; still buzzing happily from the margaritas, and asked if either of them had seen Hando.

Arthur frowned a little at that but Cort just nodded and told me he'd heard Hando was over at the Temple, out back in the forest. Cort had consecrated the ground but hadn't yet begun construction on the chapel where he would perform services for the family on Sundays, should any of them care to attend. It's not surprising that Hando would go there. I told you he's got some odd traditional notions hidden away under the face he shows to the world. Cort's expression was warm and open but his eyes warned me to step lightly. No doubt he'd had - or at least attempted to have - the same talk that Teener was getting upstairs.

With all that was going on in Hando's life right now, I can see how he might be reluctant to accept guidance of anyone, even Cort whom I know he respects deeply. A bad man who became good. Little wonder he's drawn Hando's interest.

Arthur drove me back over to the Temple and then with a surprisingly mature understanding of what was afoot, disappeared into his office without the slightest bit of fuss. I returned to Lach's room to drop off my purse, picked up the other gift I'd brought and then went to look for Hando. I bumped into Egan coming back up from the stable and he pointed me in the right direction but thankfully didn't offer to show me the way himself. I believe he is a man who understands the need for solitude.

After walking for several minutes, I slowed to appreciate the sight of the trees around me. Old trees. This forest had a primal feel. The leaf litter was thick under my feet, rendering my steps nearly soundless as I meandered through the thick trunks. Cort was right to choose this place. It felt of awe and peace.

Sanctuary. 

It was in this hallowed place that I found him. I stopped short and spun around, putting my back to him when I realized what I'd interrupted. He was on his knees, head bent. In prayer. I knew he knew I was near. He might not have seen me but he could feel me as I could feel him, the flutter of awareness that we all feel inside with each other. I walked a short distance away and leaned against the rough bark of the nearest trunk. Hando humbled. It seemed an incongruous image. A picture rose up before my mind's eye; the General, no, the man Maximus humbled in prayer.

His words tumbled through my mind; a low, battle-weary voice asking for divine guidance. For wisdom. For solace. 

Blessed Mother, come to me in my dreams with the Gods' desire for my future. 
Blessed Father, watch over my wife and my son until my return. 
Whisper to them in their sleep that I live only to hold them again and all else is dust and air. 

And all else is dust and air. 

Such eloquence from a humble soldier. I wondered what soundless words fell from Hando's lips. I had seen them move, seen his shoulders wracked with emotion.

That he knew I was there and didn't stir humbled me. I had not ever expected to be granted so deep an intimacy from such a guarded man. I don't know how long I stood there. Long enough to feel the shadowy chill of the forest sink into my bones. Long enough to feel an ache in my back and the sting of the bark digging into my flesh where I leaned against the trunk, but disturbing the peace here simply to find a more comfortable position felt wrong.

I watched the clouds roll and churn in the sky. I watched a small brown bird flit and hop among the branches of a nearby tree. I heard the creaking of the wind through the trees and the soft splash of water from the creek in the ravine below us. The air smelled of rain, fecund earth, and smoke. Smoke?

A sound reached me. A lighter being flicked closed. A shadow passed over me as Hando strode by without so much as a single word. He stopped after he'd gone about ten yards and realized that I hadn't followed along behind him like some lost little dog. Flanked by the tall trees, for a moment we simply looked at each other. Words from one of Uma's diaries popped into my head. Babes in the Woods.

Only this was no fairytale and Hando was certainly no babe. He looked every inch the lion I'd once told him he reminded me of. Not just any lion - The Great Lion. A wild beast who comes and goes as he pleases. Protector. Redeemer of the lost. Not a tame lion, but still a creature capable of love. Aslan.

"Aslan?" I didn't realize I'd spoken the name aloud until he sneered at me. 

"He's a fucking Christ figure! Jesus." Despite his malevolence, I smiled inwardly. Hando hadn't heard of Aslan the first time I mentioned the name to him. Looks like he'd been doing some reading. Of course, I didn't mean to imply Hando was Christ-like, but there were other similarities between him and the feral king of Narnia.

He was looking at me contemptuously, fire burning brightly in his eyes and spoiling for a fight because strangling emotion and beating it down was far better than having to feel it. Having to let it close enough to hurt him. His eyes warned me to hold my tongue but I didn't. Any sane person would have backed away and given him space. I closed the distance between us, stopping just short of reaching out to touch him with my hand. Tension bled from him, the air around him felt oppressive, wild. Like that moment just before lightning strikes.

"How are you doing?" 

"How the fuck do you think?" He spat the words at me defensively and took a deep drag off his cigarette. His eyes were wet and full of pain. I didn't comment.

He'd just tell me it was allergies if he even bothered to acknowledge my concern at all. I felt for him. I think he wanted to be less of ass with me but he didn't know how. He was like a wild thing caught in a trap, mauling the hands trying to free it. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. I wasn't really surprised. For all our talks, we hadn't actually spent that much time together. Not like he'd spent with Bou. And certainly not like what he spent with Teener. Online he was more comfortable talking to me about his thoughts and feelings but in person, he still felt far more comfortable expressing intimacy in a more physical way. He looked me up and down and licked his lips. I pretended not to notice.

"You miss her." A statement, not a question. 

He gave me a withering look. "You don't understand. She was going to help me and now she can't. Then I find out there was a chance and... I want the only woman in the world who can't make it real for me." He dropped his cigarette and looked away, popping his fingers restlessly as he crushed it out beneath his boot heel. "It's all fucked up. Makes me wonder..." Stormy eyes darted back to mine. "Is this shit going to come between us?"

I had the sense he was daring me to answer him. He knew I knew what he was talking about. It wasn't like we hadn't had this conversation before. It was just the first time we'd had it since all the cards had been laid on the table.

I took a deep breath and decided to be equally blunt with him. "It's up to you... either she's important enough or she isn't. But make your mind up now. There are other alternatives."

His eyes narrowed at that. They were tortured but there was an unmistakable tic in his jaw. He was a man at war with himself. He wanted a child. He wanted Teener. He wanted what was best for her. He wondered if he was the best thing, worried about one or both of them feeling tied down and yet he was still driven to possess her, desperate to claim her and bind her to him for all time.

I foolishly ignored the tic and kept going. "What do you want most in life? If you know that then you have your answer." 

He exploded into motion. With a low growl, he grabbed my neck and shoved me roughly up against the nearest tree. He wasn't playing this time like he had been on our first visit. This time his hand was like a steel band around my throat. My fingers pulled futilely at his, finally wrapping around his thick wrist as he simply stared at me, waiting for me to acknowledge his power. I did, letting my hands drop from his wrist. He didn't scare me when he was like this. I'd be more afraid if it had been Lach pinning me to this tree with his hands at my throat. Imagine where his head would have to be for him to do such a thing?

With Hando, it was more about his frustration with his situation than it was about violence directed towards me and we both knew it. His hand didn't loosen on my throat and when he spoke again, his words were decisive. "I know what I want." Something ghosted across his eyes. "I want to make her happy." The words sounded as if they'd been ripped from his very soul. Such anguish. Such hope. My heart ached for him. This needed to be defused. Now.

"Well, wring your own neck then, not mine." 

He chuckled darkly and he loosened his hand, stroking absently up and down the column of my throat. An odd show of affection, but Hando would never be a soft man. He also admired courage. I would defer to him because he was stronger but I wouldn't cower before him. He's also my friend and it was high time we stopped hiding behind a computer screen when we talked. Hando grunted at the expression on my face and looked away, finally pulling his hand from my throat. He put his back to me and lit up again, unable to keep still.

"All this shit? Is it happening because of all the things I've done? Pissed away any chance I had of something good?" The tip of his cigarette glowed red and he blew a stream of smoke into the still air. "Am I doomed?"

"Like Aslan?" I embraced him from behind, aware he didn't want me to see his face. Aslan was tortured and killed only to be reborn more glorious than ever. Like a man I know who once tasted death on a cold gray beach, staining the sand red with his blood. "Everyone can rise out of the ashes if they have enough faith to trust that things can change." I felt his chest rise and fall as he took another drag.

He huffed quietly, listening to my words but unwilling to give me so much as an inch. "Jesus, Fireball, do you give Flyboy this much lip? Hasn't he taught you there's better things to do with your mouth?"

He was being deliberately crude. I ignored him, aware his teasing meant his black mood was lifting. "No one knows what's ahead anyway. Might as well work with what you have." He flicked away his butt and turned, finally letting me see his face. For a moment he let me see the feeling reflected in his eyes and then he deftly changed the subject. It made me smile, aware he'd hadn't been telling me 'thank you' as much as he'd been giving me something he felt was of equal value to what he'd taken from me.

Head cocked, he looked at me. I had the sense that it was the first time he was really seeing me. He ran his hands over the bumps in my coat pocket. "What's this?"

I smiled. "Presents." For a moment surprise flashed across his face before he could hide it from me. It made me sad to see it there. I supposed that aside from Teener, he didn't receive many gifts. For half a heartbeat, his eyes sparkled like a child's and I saw a flash of the boy he'd once been before the world had ground his innocence beneath its boot heel.

I reached into my pocket, retrieved the gift and pushed it into his warm palm, closing his fingers over the cool metal. "For you, Aslan." 

He looked at me and then at his palm, opening his fingers to reveal a silver acorn. The corner of his mouth twitched but his eyes grew colder. I wondered if he thought I was making fun of him. "You trying to tell me I'm a fucking nut job, love?"

I shook my head as he fingered the silver acorn, examining it before he caught my eyes again. I smiled at him. "The surname you chose in this life - Martin - it's Scottish with Norse and Irish roots."

Hando look at me a little skeptically. "Sounded like a good Aryan name," was all he said. I rolled my eyes at him. He grunted and looked away. "Fine. Saint Martin of Tours. It's the only story I can remember my Mum ever telling me."

Again, an even exchange. For all his crudity, he had a strong sense of honor. He would not be beholden to me. 

My heart went out to him but I said nothing. He's too proud to accept coddling of any sort. I continued on, aware he'd be most comfortable if I didn't draw attention to the fact he'd just shared something very intimate with me.

"Martin.... Scots-Irish like me." I met his eyes. "Chlanna nan con thigibh a so's gheibh sibh feoil." Gaelic. Lach helped me with the pronunciation. "It's your clan's war cry. 'Sons of the hounds, come here and get flesh.'"

His eyes brows went up at that. I told him more about his clan, about this other family he had become a part of when he took the name Martin. "And this," I closed his fingers over the acorn. "This is one of the badges of your clan. A symbol of the oak." Our eyes met. "All great things start small and grow."

He stared at me with unblinking eyes and then looked away, running a hand over his face. "Fuck." He pulled away and dug his keys from his pocket, attaching the silver acorn to the set right then and there. Without another word, he shoved them back in his pocket and gave me an unreadable look. I guessed he was a little wary about my second gift, seeing as how the first one had probably hit a little closer to home than he was expecting.

I pulled it from my pocket and placed the strip of cloth into his outstretched hand. His brow furrowed as he ran his fingers along the exquisite silk. "Your family tartan." A predominantly green and red plaid with a thin grid of yellow to break it up. "For the handfasting... if you want to have one. You know what that is, right?" He nodded.

It's a tradition where the bride and groom have their clasped hands wrapped to symbolize their joining. It's an old ritual, going back to Beltane, where couples who wished to be married danced before a fire and were joined together in handfasting by the local druid. I imagine our 'local druid' would approve. So would Cort. Today it symbolizes the trinity of marriage; man and woman joined by God. In ancient times, another trinity would be manifest; mother, father and child. The Celts have always been good at seeing things in threes. It seemed especially appropriate here as their relationship would always include another, be it Brother or Sister.

With more care than I would have imagined, Hando folded the cloth and tucked it safely away inside his coat pocket before lifting his head to meet my eyes. He kissed me then, long and hard and full of all the things he couldn't say. I kissed him back but it wasn't a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of friendship and of love. He pulled away from me but didn't turn my hand loose.

Nor did he thank me. He simply squeezed my hand and held my eyes as he nodded. Just once. I nodded back and I knew there would be no more discussion. No more twisting himself into knots. He'd made his decision. His tongue flicked out to wet his lip and his eyes glittered with a light I don't believe I've ever seen in them before. The fire got brighter as he looked me up and down. "C'mon, love. You need to get scrubbed up... you're not coming to my wedding looking like a fucking dag."

I looked over at him and for the first time this afternoon, he was smiling. I smiled back as he gripped my hand harder and pulled me back towards the Temple.

Towards Teener. Towards home. 

TEENER

And when your back's against the wall 
Just turn around and you will see 
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby 
Just have a little faith in me 

-John Hiatt

There are no words to express what it felt like. None at all. Hearing him speak the words to me while I was captured in his stare. I memorized everything I could. The temperature of the air. How wonderful he smelled. How perfectly he was dressed. I closed my eyes and took in the sounds around me. Were his eyes always that bright? Were they green? Or blue? The length of tartan that was draped around our clasped hands. A gift from Heather, the Martin family tartan pattern. How soft it felt. His eyes, the way they drank me in when he first saw me as I walked towards the altar. The feel of the garter on my thigh - placed there by Cort moments before the ceremony began. The weight of Cort's badge on my bouquet and the comb in my hair. The single pearl hanging around my neck and the brand new gold earrings. Touched by each of these things, I almost made a mess of my makeup back in my dressing room. So many wonderful symbols bestowed upon me by my family.

Nowhere near fluent in Latin, or even English at most times, I did recognize three words in Cort's final prayer that have stayed with me. Incipio - meant begin or beginning. Medius - middle. Finis - end. Every occurrence in life can simultaneously play each of these parts. The memorial service was a sort of end and a beginning, as was the ceremony I was talking part in with Hando. This entry in my diary could be seen as a beginning and a middle. And so forth. I would remember the symbolism in my realization for many months to come.

Hando stood as still as a statue in his crisp white button down shirt, black braces and black jeans. The only show of emotion was the slight waver in his voice when he spoke and the tears he kept in check. When it was over, I was sure I heard him expel a sigh of relief, as if he was afraid that I would change my mind at the last moment.

Thinking back on the times before, I wondered what had changed his demeanor. 

Maybe having some time alone while I was at the oak tree with Cort and while I readied for the event allowed him to come to terms with his feelings. I know my time with Cort did for me.

Afterwards we had a feast. Just the 5 of us. I was surprised that I had an appetite for food after the mentally tumultuous day. My ragged nerves began slipping away with each sip of champagne. Hando and I had to suffer through the typical comments, "You better eat - you'll need it to keep your strength up."

"Now, has anyone explained to the two of you the mechanics of the wedding night?" etc. 

I stole glances at Hando as he bawdily joked with Cort. I thought of the black box in the bottom of my closet back home. The raw animal of a man, cracking nasty jokes was the same guy who wrote song lyrics for me on whatever paper was handy - and would leave them for me to find or mail them to me if he was away.

Yes, diary. I was getting all googly-eyed at him thanks to the champagne. 

I excused myself to the ladies room and Isobel caught up with me. I hadn't realized how much drink she had partaken of until she began to speak. 

"Tina...whew - what is in that wine that Max sent?" She cleared her throat. "I don't believe in interfering with a couple's relationship, especially on their wedding night, wink wink, nod nod. Hahahahaha. But, I have something to give you, if you are interested..."

"Come on Iz, another marriage joke? Ha ha - funny funny - better lay off the wine now," I giggled. 

Serious sober glare. "Take this. Drink it. Your deepest hope will be realized tonight." She placed a clear vial in my hand. It contained a blue fluid that seemed to sparkle in the light - or was that the effects of the champagne on my eyes?

"What do you mea..."

"It's up to you - drink it or not. I cannot make that decision for you. I'm sure your night won't be lacking if you decide against it, wink wink, nod nod - but you won't know if you don't try it."

With that dare hanging mid-air, she walked away - back to the feast. I examined the vial again. "Eh, probably some sort of aphrodisiac or something. Hell, could be colored sugar water, for all I know. Can't hurt - what the hey..."

Bottoms up and down it went. Tasted like it smelled - flowery. Paused. Waited. 

Didn't feel any different. 

On my way down the corridor after finishing up in the bathroom, I was hit with a wave of nausea and my ears began popping - like they do when I fly. Oh, I was flying all right. The sensation disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

"No more champagne, little girl," I told myself. 

I thought we would be spending the night in a room at Isobel and Cort's house, but I was mistaken. Seems that Hando had other things in mind. The moon was a work of art on the canvas of the night sky and my new husband had the foresight to have a place set for us under that lunar masterpiece.

He took my hand and walked me through a path that I hadn't noticed before. The moon beams through the trees lit our way. The trail ended in a small clearing.

There were blankets and pillows and candles all around. Chilled champagne... He thought of it all, I guessed. 

Hando squeezed my hand and brushed his lips across the top of my head. "I did have help. Izzobel is bonzer at coming up with this romantic shit, eh?" 

I playfully punched him and let him snake his body around me in typical Hando fashion. Waited for the typical tongue in the ear - on the neck - on the cheek - but it didn't come. Instead he held me in an embrace and took a deep breath.

"Remember the first time?" 

I paused, "No, not really. Did we ever have a first time?" 

"Heh, I think we were so busy playing a game. But, that's not what I meant. Do you remember your first time?" 

HANDO 

I didn't know how else to bring it up without just asking straight away. I knew her initial intimate experience with a bloke had been stolen from her. I aimed to give it back, as best as I could.

"I don't guess I really ever had one, H." The moonlight swam in the pools of her blue eyes. 

Aw hell. It was just us. I could drop the hard ass act for one night. Couldn't I? I'd have the rest of my life to be a dickhead. One night. For her. Right? 

"You've given me something today, that I've always dreamed of, but never thought was in the cards for me, Tina. I want to give you something equally as special."

I had to look away from her, down at my feet before I turned into a total pansy and got choked up. 

It was then that I knew. The vial that Isobel had passed me during dinner. Her words hushed and cryptic. All made sense now. This was my hope. This was my wish. To give this to her and to experience the consummation as if it were the first time I'd ever touched her. To mark her mine. To take what was mine - and every translation of what that meant. True enough - the only other times I had been a sheila's first, it was against their will - which made me no better than Teener's dad. Right? I shook the thoughts from my head. No place for them here with us.

That was when it happened. 

All at once, I felt insecure and awkward. Teener was blushing and looking at her feet, arms around herself tugging her lace shawl over her skin, seemingly unsure of what she was supposed to do.

How could that be? How could I... What? I couldn't remember the last time or anytime with her - ever. I wanted to reason it out, but my hard-on was killing me. Killing me? Christ yes - like I was a teenager or somewhere near the time when a bloke has absolutely no dick control.

Bloody great. The most important night of her life and I am having a nervous breakdown. 

Get it together. Be a man. Don't let her see your insecurity. Make the first move. Show her what to do. 

"Hando?" 

I nearly leapt out of my skin, she startled me so badly. I realized that we had been staring at each other, speechless, for quite a while. God, I wanted her so bad - more than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life. The thought of seeing what she had on under the dress was driving me to touch myself through my jeans, but I couldn't do that, could I? I'd scare her for sure. What? Scare her?

What the fuck - ok - this is a game. Just a game. Roleplaying we are. But that still doesn't explain the fact that I could nail spikes into petrified wood with my bolt.

"Yes?" I had to clear my throat twice to find my voice. 

"I know what we are supposed to do now, I think - but I... Would you be angry if I... I don't think I can... Hando, I'm scared."

And she wasn't lying. Did Isobel give her what she gave me? Could it be that Tina harbored the same thoughts as I on this night? 

I heard myself speak and move forward to embrace her, but I felt detached from my body. 

"It's ok to be scared. I was when it was my first time, but for different reasons, I would think. Hahaha." 

Was I? I couldn't remember my first time. What was this? Alzheimer's? 

"Come sit down with me, have some more champagne. It will relax you." 

"How many women have you slept with?" I nearly dropped the bottle as I was pouring. Blunt question, but she was nervous. That was to be expected. 

"That is none of your concern, love. From this day forward, you will be the only one - forever." 

Since when did I become so fucking eloquent? Did I really sound that gay? 

I handed a glass to her, to which she took a demure sip. I'd hoped to get more of that into her, so she would relax. 

Listen to me! Trying to seduce...my wife!

It would be so easy, you know. She is just a slip of a thing. I could hold her wrists above her head, stick it up her and be done. A bit of a boo hoo here and there, she'd get over it.

I wanted to slap myself. Were these really the feelings that blokes get on their wedding night? 

Time for the next move, mate. 

I turned her around, pulled the shawl off her shoulders, and began unbuttoning her dress. She shivered as goose pimples ran over her skin. I could hear her gasp and hold her breath. I unbuttoned the last button and pushed the material forward, so it would fall from her shoulders.

"So, you have probably been with lots of women who knew what they were doing, huh?" 

Another direct question. I could see where this was leading. 

I whispered in her ear, "Tina, we all must start somewhere. I'm honored to be the one to teach you about these things. I will not abuse your trust or tarnish it by comparing you to someone else. You are now my wife and most important above all things and all others."

Christ on a cracker - I sounded like Cort! This just was not happening! 

"Would you still have married me if I was more experienced - like them?" 

I turned her around. "You know I would! Crazy question, that is. I didn't marry you for your experience in the bedroom! I married you for you! All men want to be the first and special to their partner. I'm lucky to be granted that wish.

Boy howdy, was I. 

She slowly unhooked her arms from herself and allowed her dress to pool around her waist where she sat on the makeshift bed in our wooded chamber. She took my breath away. Wearing the most delicate of clingy lace - I yearned to see her without it. I wondered what shape and color her nipples were. How they tasted. I wanted to feel the weight of her breasts in my hands.

I began unbuttoning my shirt. 

"Can....I? Please?" I dropped my hands to my sides as she slowly slipped each button through its hole. Once rid of my shirt, she ran her palms over my chest, in a state of amazement, and arousal, I could tell by her erect nipples. I let her hands roam.

"Oh Hando...I feel so...So...when you touch me, I..."

I grinned at her. 

"It just gets better, love." I stood and pulled her up with me, which caused her dress to fall to her feet, displaying the rest of her lacy undergarments. 

I can honestly say, I've never seen anything as beautiful as her - standing nearly naked before me, the moon creating a halo around her body. 

The law of gravity and my own arousal was creating a tent in my jeans. Her eyes were fixed upon it. I took her hand and placed it there. She yanked her hand away quickly, but then touched me again. I couldn't help myself - I drew breath in sharply through pursed lips.

"So hard, Hando - Does it hurt?" 

I gulped. "It can, but when you touch me, it feels good." 

Interested in seeing more, I gathered, she stood back and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing the straps of that lacy number off her shoulders. My heart swelled with emotion. She was offering herself to me, freely. Her eyes told the whole story. I moved in and gently pulled her arms away, "Let me see you..."

Her eyes were so innocent - so totally trusting. She dropped her arms and stood before me, allowing the rest of her covering to slide down her legs to her feet.

Beautiful small breasts, perfect for her frame. Deep rose red nipples, perfect size for my mouth. A forest of curls below, draped over her sex. The thought made my mouth go dry. Her instinct was to cover herself with her hands, but she stopped mid-motion. Her nerves caught up with her and her eyes dropped to her feet.

"Ah - no no, Tina - look at me - I need to see your eyes." I tilted her head up and pulled her in for a kiss. Rubbing my need lightly on her belly, I felt her arms encircle my waist and hug my body tightly to hers. I supposed that nature was beginning to take its course with her, thankfully.

"Lay down, love..." She did as I asked and I removed the rest of my clothes. I became quite uneasy at the way she was staring at my manhood. Unable to tear her eyes away from it - she followed its movement as I went to lie beside her..

Shaking off her amazement, she picked up my hand and placed it on her breast. A gesture I was about to complete myself, but I was spurred on by her advance.

We spent a good deal of time exploring each other's bodies, rather chastely, with our hands. Once I was sure she had relaxed, I made the next move. It was time. It was my right as her husband to have this. No asking permission. No requesting that she tell me then or else I couldn't stop - that wasn't an option.

That was more like it. That sounded like me. 

I captured her mouth with mine, and slowly eased myself above her. A moment of realization made her pull away from me. "I can't do this, Hando. You are...it's too...big to fit where it has to go. I'm scared. It will hurt too much."

"Shhh. It may be uncomfortable at first, but it will feel so good, love. I promise." 

She couldn't have pumped up my ego any more if she had really tried. Fuck yeah, I'm big. There isn't a bloke on earth that doesn't like hearing his sheila tell him so. 

"Do you trust me?" 

She nodded yes. Tears were welling up in her eyes. I wondered if I should just stop...

"I do want this, Hando - I want to feel you and...I just..."

Ok, so maybe she could pump me up more...heh.

"We are doing this together, remember? This isn't something I'm taking from you. 

We must both get what we need from it. Do you understand?" 

She nodded and wiped her eyes. 

I moved to part her legs with one knee and then the other. I sat back and took in the breathtaking sight of her garden. At the last minute, I decided to change my tack. Seeing the moisture glistening between her legs made me realize how hungry I was to taste her there.

"Touch yourself, Tina." 

She hesitated, but complied. 

"Touch yourself like you do when you think of me." 

"How do you know I...?"

"I've seen you, love. I've heard you cry my name when you come." 

She turned a bright red at my confession of witnessing a private act. 

"It was a sight to behold. For me? Touch yourself like that?" 

I began stroking myself, and she watched that action intently as her fingers danced over her clit. 

She was relaxing even more - feeling like she had some control in the situation. I'd still have mine, guaranteed. 

I touched her folds and sank a finger in its depth. So slick, so overflowing with her honey. She mewed and bucked against my hand before she was aware of what she was doing. "I've got to know now." I retracted my finger and stuck it in my mouth, licking her taste and savoring every drop. She would tell me later that it was one of the most erotic things she'd ever seen me do, licking her from my hand...

"Spread wider for me, Tina. That's it. I moved her hand out of the way and began foraging her with my mouth. I'm fairly certain she came twice, by the river of nectar that was flowing from her. I licked my lips and began making my way up her body.

"Hando," she breathed, eyes nearly crossed from divine pleasure. 

"Yes?" I mumbled against her breast before I latched onto her nipple. 

"You - my turn. I want to try." 

Now, I wasn't going to push for that until later. Who was I to deny my new blushing bride? Heh. 

She sat up and I rose up on my knees. 

"Show me, Hando. Show me what feels good." 

Once again I found her looking up at me, a world of trust and the need to please staring up at me. 

I placed her hand around my girth and showed her the pace and pressure that appealed to me most. Seeing the pre-cum issuing from my head, she leaned in and licked it away, much to my thankful surprise. Nature, once more - helping us along.

Little by little, she took me into her mouth, moving forward and back, at an agonizing pace. Hoh, she was too good at that for sure. If she had kept up, I would have...

I eased her back, preparing to put the final touches on our consummation. Her hurt and confused expression prompted me to reassure her that she wasn't doing anything wrong.

"Tina - I need to be inside you. I need to now." I waited to see what her reaction would be. Would it be a struggle? Would she give over? 

She stopped, reclined, and lay wide for me. She reminded me of a cake that is too pretty to cut and eat. I paused and drank all of her in. As much as I wanted to claim my stake, I momentarily felt a twinge of regret about what I was about to do. Once done, couldn't be taken back. I was about to do something that could determine her feelings on the act for the rest of her life. I had a great responsibility.

I lay over her. Calming and cooing at her with gentle words. Telling her how beautiful she was how much I loved her, how good she felt. 

Propped up on one elbow, I primed my cock with her wetness, loving the feel of it. She was more than ready for me. Her body betrayed her desire over her timidity and apprehension. All that just for me. For her husband. Me. Mine.

I nudged myself at her opening. I rubbed her thigh, soothing her into relaxing the muscles she had clamped in bunches, preparing for what she must perceive as potential earth-shattering pain.

"Love, it will hurt if you don't relax. We have all night, I'll go slow - promise." I kissed her nose and her forehead and pushed myself forward. Christ, she was tight. I mean tight, like never been touched this way tight. That couldn't be right. I know I'd been there a hundred times or so - even if I couldn't remember it. Pulled back, pushed in a bit. I had to bite my tongue and stop moving or risk shooting my wad right then. I resumed the slow pistoning until I felt something obstruct my path. I nudged ahead, a bit more than I intended and elicited a cry from her.

It couldn't be. 

That shit Izz had given me was making me and my dick hallucinate. It all seemed so real. Was it? 

I placed my lips on hers, bobbed in for a deep kiss and shoved my weight forward until I was hilted. 

Tears streamed from her eyes as I captured her cry in my mouth. I had broken through what felt like her maidenhead, and felt what was surely blood lubricate my path. I never knew I had such a vivid imagination.

I leaned back to see how she was - what she needed me to do. 

Her bottom lip quivered and tears continued to run down the sides of her face. 

"Tina? Am I hurting you that badly?" I began to fear the worst. 

She shook her head no. 

"What is it?" 

"What you've done to me, I'm yours for the rest of my days, Hando. You've made me yours. You've made me a woman. I love you so much, I feel like I'm going to explode. I want to please you. Teach me?"

Okay, here again, she really can pump me up more. 

I slowly began to quicken my pace, teaching her to move along with me - to find her own pleasure in our joining. She was an apt pupil. Before long, peak she searched for was found which only sent me in a downward spiral. Free falling. I exploded inside her, calling her name. In one motion, I rolled us over so that she was lying on my chest. I felt our intermingled fluid seeping from her as I softened and fell away. I couldn't believe what I had just experienced.

Hallucination or no, this was a night I'd never forget. 

CORT

Sometimes things and people just need a little help. A bit of a nudge to get them goin' down the right path. Those two didn't make it easy. Hard headed, they both are. Nothing is a secret in Perve World. It's a fact. Where Hando's problems were written all over his face and manner, Teener's reservations were more difficult to sort out.

She had been quiet in the face of Hando's sour mood. Not submissive by any means, but more of a seasoned witness. Experience had taught me that it was the quiet ones that you had to keep an eye on.

I figured it out at the oak tree. Weeks ago, our conversations were animated and full of energy when discussing the wedding. Easy to chalk her current subdued mood up to our recent loss but something tugged at me - saying different.

Like Isobel, I don't reckon interfering in the affairs of others is a good thing. And indeed, Isobel was surprised when I asked her to meditate on Teener and tell me if she could suss out anything odd.

Isobel called me on her cell from a dress shop later in the day. She confirmed my suspicions. 

Time was ticking away. When she suggested that she could take care of it, I had no choice but to pray that everything would work out. 

Hando had his Number Two to help steer him right. I never doubted for a moment that Heather wouldn't be successful. 

When I found Isobel grinning and chuckling to herself after the feast and a fair portion of wine, I congratulated her on a job well done. 

Then she told me exactly what she had done. 

Yes, I was not agreeable when she spilled, but standing there in the woods, hiding behind a tree with Isobel, seeing what I saw - I knew. Leading horses to water was different from making them take a drink. The thing that Isobel did with her majiks was to give them a heady drink of one another. The sight of watching Teener unbutton Hando's shirt and touch his chest, truly as if it were new to her made everything ok by me.

"Come on Isobel, I need to hear your confession in my chambers. Leave them to each other," I whispered. 

TEENER

He asked that question and it made me think. If I could pick anyone to introduce me to the ways of intimate relationships, it would be Hando. Strange choice you think? Well, diary - I would explain it to you, but then I'd have to go take a cold shower and there aren't any showers on this airplane.

The moment I made the conscious thought, I had an out of body experience. That's all I can call it - I don't know if there is some other medical terminology. I was me but I was saying and feeling things that weren't me. Make sense? Didn't to me either. I was powerless to stop myself. Seconds ticked away in my head. I saw this man standing before me who felt new and unfamiliar in a way I couldn't pin down. I realized where we were and what we were about to do and felt instantly self-conscious. Yes diary, you read that part right.

What was this? I'd been with this man in every way imaginable, and some not - but I could not recollect - for the life of me - what he looked like naked. That thought sent a blush through my entire body. One that I believe he noticed right away.

I began with the spaced-out questions. I was lost. I didn't know what to do - whether I should stand, sit, or lie down. I wasn't sure if I should keep my clothes on or take them off. Should I strip and present myself? What? I kept on with the questions as a stalling tactic until I could figure out what I was supposed to do.

Oh my god. I saw it. Or rather got a glimpse of its shadow as it pushed against the fabric of his jeans. There was just no way that it was going...there. Impossible. I would be the biggest disappointment of his life. Sorry in the sack.

I felt my nipples harden when his fingers glided across my skin as he began unbuttoning my dress. When did he start that? Wasn't I paying attention? More silly questions. What did I think he'd say? When he turned me around to speak to me, I saw the patience and the sincerity on his face, tinged with - what was that? Alpha male need? I let my dress fall to my waist as he regarded me as he would a painting or a statue, more like a well-built chopper, in his case.

I was at war with myself. Hopelessly. I was scared, but I was determined. I didn't want to experience the pain, but I wanted to please him. When his hands moved to his shirt buttons, I became a bit braver, even though I was afraid that he would laugh at my forwardness. He didn't. He was a perfect gentleman. He allowed me to explore the feel of his chest at my whim. The cradle of my safety, that chest. Warm, muscular. I had nothing to fear when wrapped up in that embrace. I traced his tattoos. My being was one big ball of energy. I tingled all over. I felt the need to share my feelings with him. My amazement that the touch of another could make a person feel so many things at once.

When I stood up and allowed my dress to pool at my feet, I knew I was one step closer. He placed my hand on the swell in his jeans. It was hard and pulsing. I was sure that had to be painful. I jerked my hand away, unsure why. Did I think it would bite? I rested my hand on him once again and saw, by the look on his face, the pleasure my touch gave.

Getting braver by the moment, I stepped back to begin slipping my undergarments off. Giving myself to him. Trusting that he wouldn't hurt me. Wanting him to make me his. When the material slipped off my body and I was nude before him, I saw him shudder. It took my breath away and made me conscious of myself.

Dropping my gaze to the blanket below, trying to bolster my courage, he gave me the first of many lessons in his school of intimacy. He wanted to see my eyes.

Wanted me to look into his. Seeing is believing, he tells me. 

Hando motioned me to lie on the blanket as he removed the rest of his clothes. Oh noooo. It was much bigger than I guessed before. There is just no way... The war started again. You can do this, girl. You can. You can make your man happy.

When he settled into a comfortable position beside me, I placed his hand on my breast. So big, coarse, and warm. It was heaven to my sensitive nipple. I saw a primal demand fill his dilated pupils. It wouldn't be long now. A little pain and all would be well. I could stick it out, sure I could.

Hando began kissing me, his lips rocking into mine as he positioned himself over me. I wimped out at the 11th hour. I began babbling about his size and the mechanics of how it wouldn't work. I feared that I was on the verge of making him angry and that he would take me forcefully to quench his sexual thirst. He moved my legs apart with his knees and I could feel myself laid open to the night air. He licked his lips and seemed to change his mind about some thought that was left unsaid.

Enter the Embarrassment of the Century. Hando asked me to touch myself. Like I did when I was alone. He had seen me! He had heard me! Noooooo! How could he have intruded? Those were my private moments! Forget that they all centered on my fantasies of him. I could have died right there!

Easy chicky. Get a grip. He's trying to tell you what he likes. 

I found my clit and began the familiar slow circular motion as Hando wrapped his paw around his dick and began sliding it up and down. Such an erotic sight! I understood then why he liked to watch me! A man, such as Hando, virile, potent, deadly - not afraid to touch himself in the confines of a private affair like this.

I was getting ramped up - I could feel myself, so I backed off - not sure if he wanted me to bring myself to orgasm or not. Before I could ask, he teased the edge of my labia and inserted a finger inside me, sliding in and out on my wetness. I saw electricity crackle before my eyes and began moving my hips in time with his rhythm. It felt so wonderful. He placed his finger in his mouth and licked me from it. I was granted a boon afterwards - he pleasured me with his mouth. I had never experienced an orgasm that I didn't create, and I'm here to tell you it is like a theme park ride. When I allowed him take the reins, it was much more incredible than anything I could ever have done for myself.

Now wait a minute. I am the porn queen, remember? I couldn't. That was the problem, Diary. 

Blind with rapture, I asked him to reciprocate. I wanted to learn what I needed to do to give him the same gratification. He didn't argue, hee... I learned quickly how much control I had over him when he was buried in my mouth. I would save that knowledge for later. I tasted his pre-cum, which was salty - I wanted more. I wanted to make him cum in my mouth. But he had other ideas.

He pushed me back onto the blanket, and I thought I had done something wrong or had displeased him in some way. He said that he needed to be inside me. His words made my sex contract with anticipation. I presented myself, legs splayed wide, ready for his advance.

I felt him cover his manhood with my moisture, and try to push forward. I knew I was wound tighter than a 10-day clock, but couldn't help myself. I was a bundle of nerves and terribly frightened that I would ruin the night for him. When he backed out the first time, I thought he was disappointed and was giving up on me, but then I understood he was trying to work himself in, so as not to hurt me. He was as gentle as he possibly could be.

He was nowhere near fully inserted when I felt him touch a part of me inside that shouldn't be there. I was too far down the road to try to sort it out. I yelped when he pushed forward and it didn't give.

He bent down to kiss me and thrust himself forward. I cried out, but no sound was heard. His mouth had been on mine. It smarted down there. But that wasn't my problem. I was crying and couldn't make myself stop. So many emotions bombarding one another. I tried, successfully, I hoped - to share my heart:

"What you've done to me, I'm yours for the rest of my days, Hando. You've made me yours. You've made me a woman. I love you so much, I feel like I'm going to explode. I want to please you. Teach me?"

Instead of just rutting blindly to get his rocks off, he helped me gain my own pleasure from it. The sight of him as he hovered over me, so basic, magnificent, like a well-tuned machine. His voice, a low throaty rumble that rolled through my body, calming me, teaching me. The way his sweat-covered skin glowed in the moonlight. His size, stretching me, no longer hurting, no longer uncomfortable, but breathtaking in its wonder. Even when he crossed the threshold between human and animal and was pumping into me merely on instinct, I wasn't scared. I was truly amazed.

The heart that went into this night...the mask that he removed for me...the tenderness that he would have shown had I truly been inexperienced - was the greatest gift he could ever have offered me. I fell asleep on his chest, and dreamt. I didn't wake until he left our quiet repose to watch the sun rise. I sat to watch him watch the sky. Naked, smoking a cigarette, seemingly miles away. I noticed the blood stains blanket and thought about trying to reason the entire night out, but decided to do it later. I had all the time in the world to figure things out.

So there you have it, Diary. From A to Z. Hando and Teener, married at last. 

This trip to Australia was the icing on the cake. He shocked me with that, he did. Told me not to worry if I wasn't packed for the trip - he would see that I had everything I needed when we arrived.

I never got the chance to ask Isobel what she gave Hando and I. I'll have to catch up to her later. I am, however, wondering when the effects are supposed to wear off. I am sore. As in first time sore. As in I feel like a freight train tunnel sore. Like a wedge was used to split my wood, sore... You get the point, right?

Sincerely yours, Diary, 

Teener