Frost

Celebration of Union

 “I feel…pudgy.” Mari poked her side experimentally.

“Shush,” Leanna said, slapping her hand away from the silver silk clinging to the bone corset situated on her torso. “You are beautiful. My brother is going to take one look at you and swoon like he did the first time he made his own blizzard span two-thirds of Russia and half of Canada at the same time.”

The nervous twitching of her fingers stilled as she worked through her knowledge of geography to verify that yes, it was possible to have a weather event span that much territory. It must have cut through the Arctic Circle, or something, and her momentary stillness allowed Leanna to finish lacing the dress up the back. It was yet another ball gown, hand-crafted with care, this time in a stunning silver with black accents. Vines and curls branched out along the bottom hem as though they were tree branches silhouetted against the winter moon in the backyard, and Mari kept running her fingers over the rouching at her waist.

She had yet to lose the last of the weight she’d put on during her pregnancy.

Leanna arranged Mari’s hair in relative silence, humming softly something much better suited to a quartet of string instruments. Mari calmed, forgetting for the moment everything except Leanna’s voice close to her ear and the knowledge she was joining Jack in what the pixies termed a Celebration of Union.

“A few more details, love, and then you’re all set,” Leanna said, sitting Mari on the edge of her bed. “First is that Father Winter knows of your little one, but because she hasn’t been presented to him, he can’t acknowledge her as he would like to.” She adjusted the silver snowflake clip in Mari’s dark hair. “He would like to hug her and love her and welcome her to our extended family, but tradition is tradition and it’s not yet the Midwinter Ball.”

Mari folded her hands in her lap, her curiosity peaked.

“It’s also when Father Winter will formally announce your Celebration of Union,” she continued, securing the ribbon with the everfrost snowflake on it around Mari’s neck to hang in the space between her throat and the top of her dress. She stepped back and held her hands out; Mari allowed the pixie to heave her to her feet.

“Was Father Winter upset with us? When he realized we’d both lied to him about who won our wager?” Mari asked. The question had been on her mind more than a few times, especially when Father Winter had made Jack wait until the first day of the season to interact with her.

“He buried Buffalo in a foot of snow,” Leanna said with a sly smile. “But he knows why the pair of you did what you did and he can’t blame you for that. He would have done the same for Mother Summer.” She clasped a bracelet around Mari’s wrist, two little silver charms dangling down. “Speaking of Mother – a gift from her. One will keep you warm even when you are within our icy halls, and the other will allow you to consummate your union without the chance of pregnancy.”

Mari’s eyebrows crawled for her hairline.

“I love magic, too.” She turned the human in a slow circle, her eyes overly bright. “My brother isn’t going to know what to do when he sees you.”

“Hopefully he’ll remember what he’s supposed to say,” Mari said. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry, though they would be happy tears.

“If he can find his voice,” Leanna pointed out, leading Mari from her bedroom to the edge of the French doors in the living room. “Are you sure you don’t want someone to walk with you?”

She shook her head. “No. Mom’s got the baby and…no. Jack and I met seemingly as strangers and I want – I want to do this as we met. Just the two of us coming together.”

Leanna squeezed Mari’s trembling fingers with her own as she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I am honored to be able to call you my sister. I would walk with you as far as the others, if you would permit me.”

“Please.”

The pixie led them out onto the deck and then into the path that had been cleared in the yard. Beyond the edge of the house, out toward the tree line, clustered those who were important enough to the pair of them to warrant an invitation to their Union. Hannah stood by Amelia with her granddaughter nestled securely in her arms – another of Mother Summer’s bracelets on the little girl’s wrist to keep her warm beneath her blanket – while Sebastian stood beside Matthias. Ainsley and Priscilla stood on the other side of the path, and Leanna left Mari with one last encouraging squeeze before leaving her to stand next to Drew. The summer sprite looked distinctly uncomfortable in the cold but his smile was wide.

At the end of the small procession was Father Winter, Mother Summer, and Jack, who looked every inch the Winter Prince he was. His wide eyes roamed over her form as she approached, shaking fingers reaching for her own knotting hands when she was close enough.

“Sweet Creator,” he murmured reverently. “Moonlight and star-shine with the borealis on new fallen snow are the most beautiful things I have ever seen and you put them to shame, my lady.”

Tears pooled in Mari’s eyes as her smile threatened to strain all her facial muscles.

She knew Father Winter was speaking – to her and the others assembled – and she caught bits and pieces of it. How the blessed Creator would smile upon them and, really, how suited they were for one another. This drew more than a few chuckles and a long-suffering sigh from Jack. She giggled, partly out of nerves, and found she couldn’t let go of his hand once he’d taken it.

There were vows. She repeated them, and slid a plain, flattened ring of everfrost trapped in iceglass she knew Jack had made himself onto his finger. He said his vows – and a few extra words, his tone full of love and adoration for her – in German before sliding her own ring, crafted by his steady hands, onto her finger.

The part she truly remembered best was after Father Winter declared their Union to the Creator and all as witnesses, and Jack cradled his palms around her face, his own bracelet dangling from his wrist, and kissed her soundly.

“In honor of the Creator,” Father Winter said, arms out to gesture grandly in the bright moonlight, “I present to you Jack and Marianne Frost. May the rest of your days be ever blessed.”

Jack bowed to the witnesses as assembled, and pulled his wife close again for another kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, the words he so clearly wanted to say stuck stubbornly in his throat.

“Eternity, Jack,” she whispered, smoothing her fingertips down the side of his face, “is a very, very long time.”

He laughed, and kissed her again.