It was a fine day for a wedding. The radiant bride paced slowly down the aisle toward the nervous but clearly happy groom. As she reached him, the two joined hands.
"Don't worry, Lews," Ilyena whispered, "it'll go fine."
The celebrant began. "We are gathered here today..."
"I know," Lews Therin whispered back. "I love you."
"If anyone knows any reason this marriage should not proceed, let them speak now -"
No one seemed likely to speak. The room was filled with smiling faces. All the most prominent figures of the Age were gathered in celebration.
"- or forever hold their peace."
Silence. And then -
"Well, I bloody well won't hold my peace!" a woman's voice screeched from the back of the room. "He's mine!"
Standing in the doorway, face painted with fury, was a tall, stunningly beautiful woman with long, night-dark hair, and skin that would have been fair if not for the fact that it was currently red with rage.
Lews Therin groaned. "Oh, no."
"Get her out of here!" Ilyena flung her bouquet at the woman, hitting her in the face.
Mierin shook rose petals out of her hair. "You milk-faced sop! You yellow-haired trollop! Lews Therin is mine and it's time you learnt it!"
"Big words," Ilyena retorted. "Why don't you go find some pond scum to flirt with?"
Mierin screeched again and launched herself at Ilyena, claws extended. Her arms were grabbed by a pair of Lews Therin's friends, who dragged her back outside, still screaming. "I'll get you! I swear I will, you thieving wench! I'll -" The slamming door cut off her words.
Ilyena picked up her bouquet, now somewhat bedraggled. "Now that that's done -"
And the wedding continued.
Outside, Tel and Barid looked ruefully at their scratches and bruises. "For the Light's sake, Mierin," Barid groaned. "Lews Therin dumped you fifty years ago! Get over it!"
Three thousand years later...
It was a fine day for a wedding. The radiant brides - all three of them - paced slowly down the aisle toward the nervous, but clearly happy, groom. As they reached him, they took his hands - well, Min and Elayne did, anyway, even Dragons Reborn having only two hands.*
"Don't worry, Rand," Aviendha purred, twining an arm around his waist instead. "It'll go fine."
"We are gathered here today..."
"I know. I love you all." Rand smiled at his three fiancées. "I just hope..."
"If anyone knows any reason these marriages should not proceed -"
"Yes, I bloody well do!" a familiar woman's voice screeched from the doorway. "He's mine!"
Rand groaned. "Oh, no. Not again."
A short, silver-haired, blue-eyed woman stormed through the door and down the aisle. "You're at it again, Lews Therin! Not only that milk-faced tart reborn** but TWO OTHERS as well! How many times do I have to tell you, you're MINE!"
"Get her out of here!" all three women shouted in unison. Elayne and Aviendha reached for the Power. Min's knives appeared in her hands.
"You're mine! Mine, mine, MINE!" Cyndane shrieked. The windows trembled and seemed about to break at the pitch of her voice. At Rand's frantic gestures, a pair of Asha'man, followed by Taim, dragged her back outside. "Now that that's done," Elayne said in a very satisfied tone as the door slammed shut behind them, "shall we proceed?"
And the wedding continued.
Outside, Taim looked at the scratched and bruised Asha'man, and at the still struggling and screaming Cyndane. With the corners of his mouth turned up in what passed for a smile, he spoke.
"Mierin, Lews Therin dumped you three thousand and fifty years ago. GET OVER IT!"
* In fact, a lot of evidence suggests that the Dragon Reborn will end up with only one hand, but I decided to ignore this.
** Notice that I didn't specify which of the three Cyndane believes to be the reborn Ilyena. This was entirely deliberate.