The party in the Long House was subdued, but there were still smiles about, and good drink to partake. Misha and several other Long Scouts had helped bring out the ale kept in storage, while Caroline and the rest set up tables, mugs and goblets to enjoy the ale with. Meredith had insisted on joining them, slouching against one wall with a mug of ale in one paw, talking animatedly with the other Longs, loudly denouncing the court’s decision, but cheering at the news of the wedding. And so it went with the other Longs, and most of the guests who were there.
Charles was making sure he spoke to all his fellow Longs, at least those able to be there - Kershaw was still far too injured to get out of bed. He refused to say any goodbyes then, but instead talked of more mundane things, such as their lives, and how the battles up north had gone. But he also discussed the coming wedding with as many as he could, making sure each knew they’d have a front pew seat in the cathedral if there was enough room. Every once in a while he would gaze across the room and see Kimberly animatedly discussing the wedding with the female Longs, and the wives of the males.
When Charles had stumbled upon the squirrel who led the Glen, he mentioned it to him. “Be glad my wife isn’t here,” Avery pointed out, waggling his free paw while the other clutched his mug tightly. From the scent Charles could tell he was drinking a rather fruity ale, peaches perhaps. He hadn’t seen that one, but he certainly would have to find it on his next pass by the tables.
“Why is that?” the rat asked, genuinely curious.
Avery gave him a sidelong glance. “Oh, before you knew it she would have planned your entire wedding for you. Even picked out your clothes if you’d let her.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Charles said, though he would have preferred to handle his own attire.
Avery shook his head with a laugh. “No, it isn’t. Not until you realize that she would have wanted to spend every day before hand telling you just what she was doing in excruciating detail.”
Charles sipped at his ale, and then took a longer drink of it. Kimberly had already given him carte blanche this one time to drink as much as he wanted. He intended to do just that, as he was certain that after their wedding his alcohol privileges would be drastically reduced. “I don’t think I want to know that much about my wedding.”
Lord Avery laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Most men don’t want to know anything about it. Some even wish that it never happened.” He winked then, and laughed, taking a quick drink.
The rat shook his head and sipped once more at his ale. His mug was almost empty now. A good excuse to migrate back towards the tables and find that peach wine that Avery had discovered. “I certainly want to have mine! Just don’t need to know all the details.”
Brian nodded. “No question. You won’t remember half of it anyway once it’s over. Nor will your wife. Makes you wonder why they spend so much time fussing over every detail. When the time comes they can’t even see it to make sure it’s right.”
Charles chuckled and shrugged. “Well, whatever makes her happy.”
Lord Avery nodded and then gave the rat a far more serious look. “And how do you feel?”
“Feel?” Charles stammered. “I’m not sure. I’m happy to be marrying her, and the thought of living at the Glen is appealing in many ways, but...”
“What is it?”
The rat finished off his drink and then looked down into the mug regretfully. “Could I get more to drink first?”
“Of course. I’ll accompany you.” Avery set out alongside the rat. Neither of them had yet had so much to drink that they still couldn’t walk straight. But Charles definitely felt the buzz within his mind. They had to pass several boisterous Longs and even one Glenner in the process. Angus was wrestling several Longs all by himself, and given the way things were going just then, appeared to be winning, as he had two of the three pinned beneath his legs.
“Well,” Charles mused as they came to the table, “it’s not quite the Christmas party but its something.”
Avery nodded and smiled to his friend. “You can’t expect things to be perfect. Misha and the rest feel like a member of their family is being taken away from them.”
“That is what is happening,” Charles corrected. “I feel as if I am being taken away from my family.”
Avery’s tail ducked low then. “I’m sorry. I am looking forward to having you live with us at the Glen.”
“I know,” the rat admitted, and smiled slightly. “I don’t blame you, it is a lovely place. I am looking forward to it as well, even if only for the next few months. I doubt I could live there forever though. I’m a city person.”
Avery smiled slightly, as if he were thinking, We’ll see about that. But he kept his thoughts to himself.
Charles noted the glance, but paid it no mind. Instead, he gestured to the array of barrels and the taps set in the side of each. “Which of these is that peach wine you have? I’m eager to try some of it.”
The squirrel pointed with one paw towards one of the darker barrels just off to the side. “That one there. It is decent I suppose. I prefer Lars’s brews.”
“I have not had much opportunity to enjoy his wares,” Charles mused then as he filled his mug from the tap, savouring the sweet but pungent scent of the peaches. “I suppose I will have quite a few opportunities to amend that soon.”
Avery grimaced at that, and looked away. “I wish you wouldn’t speak of living in my homeland so reluctantly. I love my land and my people. You have been there, seen them, and befriended many of them. You have little choice about this decision, and you treat it as a death sentence. Why not embrace it, see it as something grand. You are not leaving your family, they will still be here. Five months and five hours are not that long if you think about it.”
Charles nodded and sipped at his mug, finding he rather enjoyed the peach wine, it had quite a bit of bite to it. “I’m sorry. I did say I was looking forward to it. I just have my doubts about it.”
Avery turned to face him more fully, and placed one paw on his shoulder. “Charles, I am going to head back home tomorrow and prepare for your arrival. I will make sure that you will have no more doubts when you get there in a week.”
Frowning, Charles took another, longer sip. “I was hoping you would be at the wedding.”
“Oh, Angela and I will attend, but I want to see to these arrangements first. They should only take a couple of days, and then I will return with my wife and kids.”
Charles smiled at the thought of seeing those two scamps again. And then it dawned on him that he’d get to know them a great deal more of the next few months and could not help laugh to himself. As long as he didn’t try to follow them through the trees, perhaps he’d survive it.
“That sounds good,” Charles admitted, even as he cast a sidelong glance at the fox who was quickly approaching, a large mug held firmly between his paws.
“What are you two hovering around my beer for!” Misha declared with a healthy measure of boisterousness. “I oughta make you pay for what you’ve had there, my Lord Brian Avery!” Charles knew that his friend was not yet drunk, but working hard on it. He hoped to not remember much more of the evening himself.
“Oh, just talking of our plans,” Avery admitted, stepping back from the vats. “I could reimburse you the cost of this party if you wish,” the squirrel offered with a good-natured smile.
The fox nodded, as if that had been the last thing he’d actually wanted to think about. But he smiled anyway, and looked to the rat, teeth gleaming. “And just what are you going to do, Matt?”
“Me?” Charles asked, and sipped a bit more from his mug. “I think I will get drunk tonight just like everybody else. Tomorrow I will set the date for the wedding with Hough, but otherwise, I would like to spend my last week here in the company of my fellow Longs.”
Misha grunted and nodded at that, as if he heartily approved. He finished off his mug with one swig, and then filled it again from the nearest vat. “Good. We have a few things to attend to now that this madness is behind us.”
“Oh?”
Misha scowled at Lord Avery a moment, though that was more the alcohol showing through than any real animosity. The squirrel took the hint and quietly backed away, locating Berchem a short distance off he began to quietly speak with the skunk. The fox and the rat leaned their heads closer together then, and Charles pressed his ear up to his friend’s muzzle. “We’ll be burying Llyn tomorrow. And the day after that, we’ll give Him a burial.”
Charles licked his lips a bit, tongue taking extra time to press firmly against the back of his incisors. “Of course,” he mouthed, though found he could barely say the words. He took a long drink then, nearly finishing off the peach wine he’d poured himself only minutes ago. He had only begun to get to know Baldwin the condor morph the last two months. And then to find out that he’d betrayed the Longs to Nasoj’s forces during the siege, and even earlier than that too, had been a stiff blow.
And Llyn’s death had also hurt him, though in a far different way. He had never really known the mink that well, mostly through his friendship with the skunk Murikeer Khannas. They had grown so close, Charles often thought of Kimberly and himself when he saw them together. Now Llyn was dead and Murikeer was in a coma. How would he react when he woke and discovered that his love was long since dead and buried? Charles finished the rest of his peach wine, wanting to wash such thoughts away.
As he was filling his mug with another brew, the same that Misha had taken, he saw a third figure approaching them through the collection of Keepers. Misha saw it too, and turned, his eyes narrowing in puzzlement. Habakkuk was hopping some, spilling beer from his mug with each hop. A year ago Charles would have laughed merrily at the sight, but not now.
“And what can we do for you?” the rat asked as the kangaroo came to a stop, long feet planting firmly into the stonework with a clicking sound.
The kangaroo looked injured at that. “Charles, I know we have had our differences, but I consider them past.”
“Oh really?” Charles sneered. “Lovely performance you gave Phil. I’ll believe you are sincere when you stop trying to manipulate me.”
Misha set his free paw on the rat’s shoulder. “That’s enough of that, Matt. He was right, and I told you to give it back to Rick too.” The fox glanced at the bemused Zhypar. “I know you were referring to the Sondeshike, and I admire your ability to avoid telling them what it was.”
Habakkuk inclined his head respectfully lifting his mug to his muzzle for a drink, and then appearing distraught when there wasn’t anything left in it. “You did a fine job on your defence as well, you managed to prove his innocence on every charge you could.”
“I wish I’d proved him innocent on every charge,” Misha grumbled a bit.
“There was no way you could have cleared his name on that last charge. You could not get around the fact that Charles simply had not revealed what he’d known.” Habakkuk looked down at the rat then. “I do recall telling you back then that you should be more open about yourself and your past. Perhaps if you had you would have been found innocent of that charge as well.”
Charles sipped at his ale, finding it had a milder flavour than the peach wine. “I’m really not interested in your I-told-you-so’s, Zhypar.” He sighed and set his mug down on the table, shaking his head. “I probably should have listened to you, but that is past now.”
“Yes, it is,” Misha asserted firmly. “And we are both grateful for what you did in making sure Matt’s sentence was not nearly as bad as it could have been.”
The rat looked up then at the fox, across to the kangaroo, and then back to Misha, eyes curious. “What do you mean by that?”
Misha blinked. “Didn’t you realize what he was trying to get Phil to admit there? Zhypar here got Malisa to realize that your silence didn’t make a damn bit of difference in the end. Even if you had told what you knew, nothing would have changed. Who knows what sort of sentence you would have received if it hadn’t been for that.” Misha then gave the kangaroo a welcome smile. “Thank you, Habakkuk. I never would have thought to try that.”
Zhypar waved his free paw then. “Phil was being an ass anyway. I must confess I took great pleasure in it.”
Charles snorted a bit and then laughed. “That’s not quite what it looked like from where I had been sitting, but I thank you nonetheless. Don’t think this means I am ready to take you back into my confidences just yet. But I do not wish a painful death upon you anymore.”
“That is comforting to know,” Habakkuk remarked drily. His ears waggled a bit and he smiled weakly. “I have nothing against you, Charles. I hope that we can be friends again someday.”
The rat took his mug into his paws again and sighed. “I miss the old Zhypar Habakkuk that I had been able to call friend.”
“I have not changed. The times have.” His voice was strangely distant, as if weeping for something long since lost. “Well, I believe I shall find Nahum and Tallis and share a drink of my own with them.”
“What are you going to tell them?”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll want to see your wedding too, you had been planning to invite your friends from the Writer’s Guild were you not?”
Charles laughed then, genuinely. Misha too felt the levity between them at last, and let his own grin return. “Of course I was! I’m afraid we’ve no time for formal invites, so you just let them all know. I’ll get word to you of the exact time tomorrow once I work it out with Father Hough.”
Misha patted the kangaroo on the back then. “It was good to have you here, Zhypar. Talking with you can be a pleasure when one doesn’t feel lost in a maze.”
Zhypar chuckled lightly at that. “Words are a powerful weapon. Take care both of you. May Eli watch over you.” The kangaroo then hopped off, setting his mug down on the table, and then heading for the doorway back to the Keep regular.
“A strange one that,” Misha remarked as he watched the kangaroo leave. The fox then returned his attention to his fellow Long. “So, just how many are you planning to invite to this wedding of yours?”
“Oh, not sure, all the Longs, all my old friends from the Writer’s Guild. There’s a bunch more too. All my fellow rodents of course, well, maybe not all. I don’t think I’ll be inviting Phil.” Charles’s face was pained as he said that. “Damn, I have always considered him a friend.”
Misha grimaced quite visibly then. “As I said before, he has changed these last few months.” The fox’s face made it quite clear that he felt he’d changed far more than any of them had thought. “I am going to speak to Thomas about this tomorrow as well. There is something wrong with that rabbit.”
Charles nodded, taking a long drink of his ale. This celebration was supposed to be a happier occasion than this, and he had every intent to enjoy himself and have his friends enjoy themselves as well. Setting his mug down beside him on the table again, he offered the fox a grin. He had always meant to ask him this when the time came, and the time had indeed come for it. “Misha, there is one thing I must ask you though.”
“Of course, Matt. What is it?”
The rat offered him a wide grin. “Will you be my Best Man?”
Misha blinked at that, all traces of unpleasantness disappearing from his countenance. Those grey eyes beamed in delight and pride. The fox bent down to one knee and bowed low, clutching one paw to his chest. “My good friend, Charles Matthias, I would be honoured to serve as your Best Man.”
“And I will be honoured to have you be my Best Man, Misha Brightleaf,” Charles said, barely able to keep the boisterous laughter from his voice. Other Longs were looking over at them, pointing, and asking themselves what in the world could possibly be going on. He did not care right then. Misha stood up again and they hugged each other tight, laughing merrily. Yes, the rat thought then as they stepped back, raising their mugs in a glorious toast, this would be a wonderful party.
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