Short pseudo-historical story about a political wedding and the events leading up to it, narrated by your granny. Not much in the way of macro/micro themes to this one, but still tagging it as such because they're still the main reason why I wrote the story.
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In recent years I’ve found myself forgetting more and more. Old age has gotten to me, and the sands of time have filed away many details I used to remember vividly. Yet still I feel deep in this old soul that so long as I draw breath, the memory of Lady Annabelle and Lord Isaac’s wedding will not fade from my mind.

At the time we had just been through many hard years of war between the Rat Kingdom and our Lion Kingdom. The rats were a rising power back then, eager to conquer as much land as they could get their hands on, and that inevitably brought them into conflict with us. The fighting raged for years, their deadly poisons meeting our steel and iron in battles that left countless dead.

Eventually, it became clear that there would be no winner in this war, and the royal houses of each kingdom, the Whitemanes and the Redtails, made efforts to restore peace. A truce was soon agreed to and an agreement drawn up. After much discussion and negotiation, the document was finalized, and on it there was one stipulation in particular that received a great deal of attention among the peoples of either nation: that the royal family of the lions would give one of their daughters in marriage to a member of the rat royal family.

For some reason, the rats had insisted unshakably upon this point, and despite heavy objections, the Whitemanes ended up agreeing to it simply because they knew peace must be had. Even still, they could not help but find the requirement insulting, and so when it came time to put forward a bride-to-be, they handpicked a minor noble who only technically qualified as part of the family—a young girl as far from the line of succession as possible—the Lady Annabelle. Such a pick could not but prick at the pride of the Redtails, yet they simply held their tongues and put forward one of their princelings—the Lord Isaac.

But the diplomatic reserve of the nobles was contrasted by certain groups in the general population of their kingdoms. Murmurs began to arise, voicing anger and indignation at the wedding that each nation saw as an insult to its people. As the event approached, those voices only became louder and more numerous, so that many anticipated the ceremony would end in bloodshed. Save for a few very close relatives of the betrothed, both of the royal families wisely declined to appear at the wedding; had they attended, their presence might have been the spark that lit anew the flames of war. As it was, everyone already feared the bride and groom would be the ones to light the spark, for rumors had spread that both of them had objected strongly to their marriage.

Come the day of the wedding, most of the people who were willing to attend the event were those from either kingdom who hoped to find in it some excuse to go back to killing each other. I was in attendance as the flower girl back then, and though I never learned of all this until much later, I could still feel the tension in the air as the seats filled up. The room was split down the middle into a rat half and a lion half. Even filled to the brim, it was deathly quiet in there. No one spoke a word, and as I came scattering flowers to announce the approach of the bride, still they just stared at each other. It felt like I was caught in the crossfire of some unseen war. My knees trembled as I walk and I was very near to crying.

And then the bride and groom came in.

The Lady Annabelle, she looked like the spirit of beauty come down from heaven, her snow-white fur matching white of her wedding dress. And there, perched on her shoulder, was the Lord Isaac, looking dashing for a rat, even if he did look almost like a doll next to his bride. That the two should approach the altar together had not been planned—in fact, they were not supposed to see each other at all prior to their entrances—but the decision to break from tradition turned out for the best, as even the most bloodthirsty fellows on either side could not help but look on in awe.

The Lord and Lady walked calmly, with a serenity which entranced and soothed all in attendance. Upon reaching the altar, the Lady offered up a hand for Lord Isaac to step down onto the platform that had been placed for him—an ornate wooden stand that reached up to the Lady’s chest, so that Lord Isaac would be roughly eye-level with the base of her neck. The Lord seemed surprisingly at ease in accepting her aid, showing an astounding degree of trust in someone he could not have met before that day.

After the wedding, there would be those cynics and skeptics—people who refuse to admit the existence of any nobler feelings in people— who would go on to mutter among themselves that it must surely have been an act. The Lord and Lady, they said, were merely putting on a show to defuse the tension in their audience and save their own hides; they were putting on a show for the sake of self-preservation. For those of us who actually witnessed the event, however, there was no question that the feelings were genuine. If anyone held any doubts after seeing the gentleness with which the Lady held her husband-to-be and lowered him onto the platform, and after seeing the two betrothed go through the entire with their eyes fixed on each other, their doubts could not have survived being witness to their kiss.

When the Lady leaned forward, her face hanging over her new husband’s platform, her hands going up to lift up her veil, her lips lightly pursed in preparation for a kiss, and the Lord stepped forward, put his hands on her jawline, and pressed his face right to her lips, their tails began swishing around as though they were enraptured, and the whole church erupted in wild cheering, shaking the building to its very foundations. It was only then that the newlyweds looked away from each other in startlement over the sudden noise. They looked about in disbelief at the marvelous change that had come over it, a change I would not have believed had I not been witness to it.

And even as the Lord and Lady left the church together and climbed aboard their carriage, even as they were being driven off for the feast and celebration with their families, still the crowds cheered them on, flooding out of the building and following the carriage until it vanished over the horizon.

Though they were little more than children then, what those two accomplished on that day was nothing short of a miracle. By their simple and honest shows of care and trust in each other, they prevented another war and ensured that friendship between rats and lions would have solid ground to stand on. And that was only to be the first of their accomplishments for the good of our peoples.

But the night grows dark and these old bones grow weary, and the deeds to tell of are too many to count; so good night for today, children, and may you all dream sweet dreams.