Page 45 of The Warrior and the Monk

Anders blinked, his expression softening as he reached out, gently placing his hands on Wilder’s arms to still his movement.I will buy you whatever you like,he signed, his motions firm with a quiet certainty.There is no need to worry.

Wilder’s voice softened as he blinked, caught off guard by Anders’s words. "I'm not worried, I’m..." he trailed off, a wave of emotion settling over him. "I am thinking about our future," he finished quietly, his words more vulnerable than he had intended.

Anders’s gaze softened further. His thumb traced along the back of Wilder’s hand, a soothing gesture that grounded Wilder in the moment. Then, Anders leaned in, trailing two fingers along Wilder’s neck, following the steady pulse to his jaw. With a gentle movement, he turned Wilder’s face toward his and kissed him sweetly on the lips. The kiss was soft, tender—something that filled Wilder’s heart with warmth, quieting the thoughts swirling in his mind. Wilder made a soft, breathy noise against Anders's lips, and his lashes fluttered against Anders’s cheek.

With a sigh, Wilder pulled away, whispering, "Anders." The weight of everything—the questions about their future, the uncertainty of what came next—melted in the softness of thekiss. For a moment, he didn’t need to worry. He only needed to be with Anders, in that quiet peace they had built together.

Behind them, the warrior with the broom remarked, "Marriage doesn’t look too bad from here, at least." His tone was lighthearted, but there was an unmistakable warmth in his voice, as though the sight of the two of them together, so comfortable and content, had struck him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Wilder smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I suppose it doesn’t," he murmured, resting his head back against Anders’s shoulder.

Chapter Sixteen

Wilder's heart leapt when the field came into sight. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the landscape, and there, amidst the wildflowers, was a large crowd already gathered. The vibrant colors of the flowers contrasted against the sea of people, their faces filled with anticipation. Wilder’s breath caught in his throat as he realized they were all here—waiting for him and Anders to exchange their vows, to declare their love for one another in the eyes of the town. A wave of emotion flooded him, and his heart swelled in his chest.

He had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined he would one day marry. For so many years, his thoughts of the future had been bound within the cold, stone walls of the monastery. His life had been a cycle of prayer and work, punctuated only by the changing of the seasons, each day blending into the next with a quiet monotony. Marriage had been something reserved for others—those with families, with lives outside the monastery’s rigid structure. The idea that Wilder’s own life could lead to this moment—a wedding to a loving husband—was a revelation that left him both humbled and awestruck.

A celebration of their love. A moment to honor their bond. Wilder could barely contain the excitement building inside him, and before he could think twice, he was practically leaping from the cart, eager to take Anders’s hand and rush into the ceremony.

But just as he was about to step down, a raised hand stopped him.

"Wait, now." One of the warriors who had accompanied them on the journey spoke up. "Give us a moment to get ready."

Wilder paused, surprised. The warrior's words seemed almost comical, but then, as he watched the third warrior, the one who had been sweeping the tracks of the cart, catch up to them and lean the broom against the cart, it became clear there was more happening than he had first realized. The third warrior began to strip the garlands of flowers from the cart with deliberate care, while another emptied the cart of its furs, gathering them up in his arms and walking off with them.

Wilder blinked, his confusion mounting. "Our cart?" he asked, his voice faltering as he watched the decorations being dismantled. He had imagined the cart, with its beautiful floral adornments and the soft furs inside, would be something to carry them home, perhaps even serving as a bed for the night. But now the cart was being stripped of its comforts, leaving Wilder with a sense of unease. Had he misunderstood? Were they not supposed to return home in the cart?

"Can't be letting things go to waste!" the first warrior called out, rummaging through his bag and pulling out an apple for the horse, who eagerly took it. The warrior patted the horse’s flank affectionately.

Wilder turned to Anders, his brow furrowing. "Are we not—"

Anders placed a hand on the small of his back, guiding him gently toward the crowd. He pointed in the distance.See the tent?

Wilder squinted, trying to focus his eyes through the sea of heads. His gaze finally landed on the small, brightly colored tent rising above the crowd, just visible at the edge of the gathering. It was surrounded by people, but it stood distinct,almost as if beckoning to them. Wilder nodded. "Yes, I see it," he replied, curiosity growing.

The flowers will go in there,Anders continued, his motions steady.The tent is for us. When we change for the feast.

“Oh!” Wilder’s eyes brightened as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. How economical, he thought. They were saving resources for the ceremony. The flowers that had adorned the cart would now serve their purpose in the tent, and the furs—well, they would likely be used during the ceremony itself. That would make sense. Afterward, when the ceremony was done, the cart would be re-decorated and perhaps used for the ride home.

But then, Wilder’s curiosity led to more questions. "And the furs?" he asked, still unsure. "Will they be brought back when it’s time to return home? It might get chilly later in the evening."

Anders’s brow furrowed slightly, as if this question should have been obvious.For the ceremony,he signed simply, gesturing toward the now-empty cart.

"For the ceremony?" Wilder repeated, feeling his stomach twist with the unknown. "But... will it be that long? I thought the ceremony would be brief, just a few words, then a blessing. You kneel, the priest blesses you, and then—"

He trailed off, suddenly unsure of what exactly to expect. He had been so caught up in the excitement of the wedding, the joy of it, that he hadn't considered the details of the ceremony itself. How would it unfold? Would there be a priest, or would there be multiple priests, or even priestesses?

Wilder chided himself for not asking more questions, for not being more curious about the customs and rituals of Anders’s people. But—he admitted to himself—matters of the flesh had been much more interesting to him. The connection he shared with Anders, the intimacy, the passion—that hadconsumed his thoughts. He hadn’t been as focused on the spiritual side of their lives, not like he should have been. But now, with the ceremony so close, Wilder realized just how little he knew about the religious practices of Anders’s people.

He knew that Anders was not a particularly religious man. The longhouse had no shrine, no icons, no figures. While Wilder prayed at various hours of the day, he had never seen Anders do so. That didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t—prayer, after all, was a private matter between the worshipper and the worshipped. But Anders shared so much of himself with Wilder, so much of his world, that Wilder was certain if gods were a part of his life, he would have learned of them by now. But perhaps that was just Anders—one man among many. Wilder had no doubt that Disa’s household, or Kirk and Osgood’s, would be very different, their religious practices unique to them.

Now, more than ever, Wilder was determined to undertake the ceremony—not only to legitimize his marriage in the eyes of the townspeople, but to bring him into the fold, to become a part of this community. He had come so far from the life he had once known, and this ceremony, this ritual, was a symbol of his transformation. There would surely be parts of it that were unfamiliar to him, but it was their wedding, and Anders would be there with him, standing by his side the entire time.

Anders, sensing his uncertainty, turned to him with a soft smile.Are you ready?

Wilder nodded, the flutter of excitement returning in his chest. "Yes, I am," he said, his voice steady despite the torrent of thoughts racing through his mind. He was ready, not just for the ceremony, but for everything that came after. This was the beginning of their life together, and he was prepared to step forward into it, hand in hand with the man he loved.

The crowd parted as Anders and Wilder made their way toward the stone altar, their footsteps tentative but full of anticipation. The air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the murmurs of the gathered people, who smiled, clapped, and offered their congratulations in an excited chorus. Some even thumped them on the back, sharing hearty laughter and good-natured jests.

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