Page 93 of Savage Devotion
Murmurs ripple through both delegations, anticipation, concern, curiosity blending into a low hum of tension that makes my shoulder blades itch. Every eye in the hall focuses on us, weighing, judging, calculating the implications of what we're attempting.
No pressure.The sardonic thought helps settle my nerves slightly. I've faced charging cavalry and flame-spitting drakes with steadier hands, but those battles only risked my life. This ceremony risks the future of both our peoples.
"The Ironspine Clan recognizes strength," Thrakul continues. "Strength of arm, strength of will, strength of purpose. We have witnessed all three in the partnership of Kaelgor Ironspine and Ressa Vaelmark. Their union honors our traditions while creating new possibilities."
On the human side, a senior general rises, Lord Commander Aldric, whose silver hair and network of battle scars mark him as a veteran of the Ember Wars.
"House Vaelmark has always valued courage above convention," he declares. "The courage to make tough choices, to forge fresh paths when old ones lead only to destruction. We witness that courage here today."
Courage above convention.Both our peoples have always honored those willing to sacrifice comfort for necessity, safety for growth, familiar patterns for unprecedented possibilities.
The preliminary speeches continue, each delegation establishing their formal recognition of what's about to occur. But beneath the ceremonial language, I sense deeper currents of calculation and concern. Both sides understand the political implications, the way this union will create new alliances and obligations, new possibilities for cooperation or conflict.
Focus.I force my attention back to the immediate moment, to the woman standing beside me, whose choice made all of this possible. Whose willingness to risk everything for partnership created the foundation for whatever follows.
"Bring forth the binding elements," Thrakul commands.
Two figures approach the ceremonial circle, one from each delegation, carrying the ritual components that will formalize our union. The Orc representative bears a braided cord of mountain steel and ember-glass, its surface gleaming with inner fire. The human representative carries a ceremonial blade, its pommel set with stones from both Vaelmark quarries and Ironspine forges.
Elements of both worlds.The symbolism feels heavy with intention, the deliberate choice to create something new rather than simply adapting existing traditions. This ceremony exists because we exist, unprecedented partnership requiring unprecedented recognition.
"Kaelgor Ironspine, do you come to this binding freely, understanding its implications for yourself and your clan?"
"I do." The words emerge steadily despite the hammering of my pulse. "I choose partnership with Ressa Vaelmark, formal recognition of what already exists between us."
What already exists.The truth beneath all ceremony and politics—that the real binding happened long before this moment, forged in shared danger and mutual trust, tempered by conflict and strengthened by choice. This public recognition simply acknowledges what we've already built together.
"Ressa Vaelmark," Lord Commander Aldric continues the formula. "Do you come to this binding freely, understanding its implications for yourself and your House?"
"I do." She says clearly through the hall, unwavering despite the watching eyes. "I choose partnership with Kaelgor Ironspine,the formalization of alliance between our peoples through personal commitment."
Personal commitment.But nothing about this feels personal anymore, not with hundreds of witnesses and the political implications pressing down like storm clouds. Everything we've shared in private now becomes a public statement, subject to interpretation and judgment by those who never shared the crucible that forged our partnership.
The ceremonial blade is placed between us, its polished surface reflecting our faces in wavering distortion. According to the combined traditions we're creating, we'll each draw a single drop of blood, mingling them on the steel while speaking binding words that will formalize our union under the eyes of both peoples.
Blood and steel.The combination feels appropriate for what we're attempting, something strong enough to endure pressure, flexible enough to adapt, sharp enough to cut through opposition when necessary.
I draw my ceremonial knife, its familiar weight comfortable in my palm despite the tremor I feel in my fingers. Not fear, anticipation because everything changes after this moment. No more private partnerships existing between formal obligations. After this, we're bound not just to each other but to the political implications of our choice.
Ressa's hand finds mine, steady and warm despite the magnitude of what we're undertaking. Her rust-colored eyes meet mine, and in them I see the same mixture of determination and uncertainty..
We each draw the blade across our palms in the prescribed manner, shallow cuts that well with crimson immediately. The sting focuses my attention, grounding the moment in physical sensation rather than overwhelming emotion.
Our hands clasp, blood mingling between our palms, warm and slick and undeniably real. The symbolism feels almost redundant—we've already bled together, already chosen to bind our fates through shared danger and mutual protection.
"By blood and steel," I speak the ancient Orc formula, my voice carrying clearly through the hall's expectant silence. "I bind myself to this partnership, this alliance, this choice to build something new rather than simply inherit what came before."
"By choice and courage," Ressa responds with the human variation, her words steady despite the magnitude of what they represent. "I bind myself to this partnership, this union, this commitment to forge unity from division."
The braided cord winds around our joined hands, its surface warm with an inner fire that pulses in rhythm with our heartbeats. The ember-glass components glow brighter as they contact our mingled blood, creating patterns of light that dance across the ceremonial circle.
Binding complete.The formal recognition settles over us like weight and warmth combined, the knowledge that what was private choice has become public commitment, that the partnership forged in danger and strengthened through conflict now carries the force of ceremony and witness.
Applause erupts from both sides of the hall, some enthusiastic, some polite, some notably absent. But the sound itself matters less than what it represents: formal acknowledgment from both peoples that this union serves their interests, that unity offers better prospects than continued division.
We did it.The thought carries mixture of relief and trepidation, and achieving this moment was only the beginning. Now comes the harder work of building on this foundation, of proving that formal partnership can deliver the practical benefits both sides require.
Thrakul steps forward, his expression grave but approving. "The binding is complete and witnessed. Kaelgor Ironspine and Ressa Vaelmark are formally recognized as partners in all things, their alliance extending to include their respective peoples."
