Sometimes, when life seems darkest, that is when the sun finally appears.
When last we saw Cousin Mordecai he had fallen into an open grave, trapped, alone in the dark and frightened. His future looked bleak—and brief. Who could have predicted that just moments later his own personal sun would appear?
I suppose the average young lady wouldn’t choose a poorly lit cemetery for an evening stroll. But Cousin Mordecai’s beloved Willamina was not the average young lady. In fact, she was not at all the sweet, gentle girl he imagined her to be. Willamina, truth be told, had a dark side. She had an adventurous side. She had martial arts training, a weakness for gentlemen in distress, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer fantasies. What Cousin Mordecai didn’t know was that while she brushed her long golden hair each evening, she dreamed of slaying demons and saving the day.
It was Willamina who finally heard Mordecai’s cries for help and saw the shadowy figure creeping toward the open grave with a weapon in his hands. It was the moment she had always been waiting for. She raced across the graveyard on silent feet, long blonde hair streaming behind her, leaping over crumbling gravestones, tucking and rolling as she landed, instantly regaining her feet. When she was closing in, she made just enough noise to let the shadowy figure hear her. The figure turned—raised his weapon—swung. Willamina caught the weapon and used its momentum to throw the attacker off-balance and wrench the weapon from his grasp. She turned, spinning the weapon in her hands as she did, and brought it to bear on the shadowy figure that was just regaining his balance. The force of her swing sent the attacker flying, but also wrenched the weapon from Willamina’s hands. The attacker landed in an unmoving heap against a gravestone several yards away, the weapon flew off into the darkness and landed with a faint clang far away.
From the pit at her feet Willamina heard a whimper. She looked down, and there, in the moonlight she saw Mordecai, dirty, disheveled, tears streaking down his face. Willamina lost her heart. She pulled him from the grave and into her arms.
Cousin Mordecai was wondrously wed to his beloved Willamina just a few weeks later.
At the wedding feast, another surprising, delightful turn of events. The Blackwater family invited old Willem Stark to the feast, really more as a courtesy than for the pleasure of his company. But Willem Stark’s company turned out to be a pleasure indeed. He found fame at the feast, dazzling everyone with his remarkable good looks. Just a few short weeks earlier Stark had been plagued by the pox, and as the rash cleared up he was left with scars that made him look like a badly peeled potato. Eventually he’d been forced to seek medical attention, and a series of chemical peels, combined with the haircut and the new suit the Old Dam had forced him into for Cousin Mordecai’s wedding had left him looking rather . . . Clooney-esque. The women at the wedding, young and old, queued to dance with him, fought for a seat next to him, bought him drinks, and offered him their cards. It seems that a happily-ever-after may be in his future, too.
So right now the scores stand like this:
Lord Slogar -45
Professor Helena Slogar 0
Melissa Slogar 0
Elias E. Gorr -30
The Old Dam 0
Cousin Mordecai 0
Willem Stark +10
Gloomy Writing Prompt: A wedding. The potential for drama is enormous. Everyone who can behave badly will, in my experience.
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