Amiti was at the public hall at precisely the correct moment. He had not arrived too early so as not to appear overeager or lustful, but he was definitely not late, so as not to bring shame upon himself or his bride by appearing unenthused. Rather than worrying about the wedding night, or even what it might be like to have such a bright, vivid, talkative soul in the house, Amiti had been concerning himself with times. He and his father had spent a good long while deciding exactly when to arrive, how to appear, what to wear. Amiti had gone so far as to choose the outfits for every man in the family.

For his father, he chose something subdued but proud, somber, but celebratory. This involved robes of the deepest blue with white embroidery throughout. For Thaddeus, Amiti insisted his brother wear white robes, except with blue embroidery. Shiloh was forced to be a little different and wear green the color of shadowed grasses. Amiti mirrored Thaddeus in pristine white with embroidery to match his youngest brother. He’d spent a considerable amount of time in the mirror this morning brushing his beard, making sure his eyebrows lay just so. His hair, of course, would be under the utmost scrutiny. They could look at his clothes all they wanted but they wouldn’t find fault, there. No, where they’d find fault would be his hair. It was so apt to be windblown. Windblown and windswept, giving him a careless appearance. Not today.

He brushed and brushed and brushed until his hair and beard positively gleamed. After that, there was nothing to do but go to his study and read for a little while, until it was time to leave the house. They had to leave just a little early, to ensure there were no interruptions to make them late, but their walk was measured and sedate. Again, could not look too eager. He didn’t want to appear lascivious. Besides, Tzephaniah, though the entire union was his idea and his doing, was also inclined to be slow. He’d quite enjoyed not having a woman in the house and now they were to endure one. His wife had been quite enough, but now he had a daughter-in-law. How odious. At least she was a good sort of girl. As good as women could be, sinful, ensnaring things that they were. He was heartily sorry his son would have to be wisened up to their tricks and games but there was nothing for it. It was Amiti’s duty to marry and Maeri’s to give him sons. Only. Sons.

Shiloh trotted along, not nearly so melancholy as the others. Not having quite the same distaste, he found this whole thing delightful and funny. Amiti getting married...who’d have imagined?

But it was happening and with Thaddeus and Shiloh bringing up the rear, the Jaffe men made their presence known on the flowered path, entering the hall in all their stately grandeur. All that remained now was for the bride to arrive.

This was it. It was her wedding day. This was the moment her entire life had been leading up to. The day she would truly become a woman and an adult. She almost couldn’t believe that it was entirely real. Her mother and aunt and sisters had been full of advice, and congratulations and suggestions for what she needed to do during the day, and what to say to Amiti and what to do once it was all over. None of it seemed to be sinking in. She was so nervous, it was all she could do to keep her thoughts straight enough to move from one task to the next that she was told to do throughout the morning. Was she supposed to be this nervous? Certainly she was supposed to be happy. Not that she wasn’t happy, but it was just a lot to be dealing with. After today everything in her life was going to change. She would be living with Amiti, leaving her sisters and her mother and her aunt and everything familiar behind.

These were Maeri’s thoughts as her mother and her sister Nedevah had fussed over her preparations for the ceremony that morning. They had made sure her hair was brushed and arranged just so. Her robes for the ceremony had been newly made. They were of a deep blue, the color one that showed the wealth of their family, as did the delicate embroidery around the neck, and the hems on the sleeves and skirt. To top it off, a veil of of shear fabric in a matching light blue was placed over her head, as per normal, though on this occasion it also draped over her face. This was secured by a headband of deep blue ribbon, which had been hand embroidered personally by her sisters, mother and aunt, an special touch on this outfit to be worn on this most significant day.

Talorah had slept in, she had not been well that morning, or so she claimed. Maeri had heard her throwing up. Though with Talora that seemed just as likely to have been her out partying the night before as it was an actual illness. She had been sick a lot recently, perhaps her drinking had finally started to catch up with her, or perhaps it was just Talora’s excuse to be less involved in Maeri’s wedding. She was Maeri’s eldest sister, twenty-seven years old and still unmarried. It would be no surprise if she was jealous that her younger sister was getting married before her. Not that Maeri had ever known Talora to care about such things.

Finally, she had been poked, prodded and rearranged to the satisfaction of her mother and was deemed ready to go out and face the people who had come to see her get married. This was intimidating. Anyone in the city of Damascus who didn’t have anything better to do would be there. Maeri wasn’t sure what was more intimidating, being up in front of all the people she did know, or those that she didn’t. She was glad to have her sister Nedevah to help lead her. While the veil she wore over her face was sheer, it still blurred her own vision considerably.

Still, Maeri could feel the energy change as she entered the room. The crowd that had gathered to attend her wedding grew silent as she entered the hall. There Nedevah left her to walk to the front of the room on her own. For a moment she hesitated, before her sister nudged her and whispered. “Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

That got Maeri’s feet moving, just one foot in front of the other. She had never thought that walking across a room could take as long as this. Her heart was pounding in her chest. There, in front of everyone, was the man she was meant to marry. She was excited, and scared and well, just everything all at once. She could barely look at him, she was too scared that he might see what she was thinking. She thought she was lucky that she had the veil to hide her emotions so that everyone in the crowd couldn’t see all the emotions she was feeling. She was glad Amiti couldn’t see what she was thinking either. She would hate for him to think that she was nervous about this. There was nothing for her to be scared of.

After what felt like forever, she made it to the front of the room. Here, standing in front of everyone. This was where her life would finally begin.

Had Amiti only been able to read Selima’s mind, he’d have squared his shoulders a bit more. Perhaps he’d have puffed out his chest a fraction, only a fraction, mind. Vanity, of course, was nothing to fix one’s thoughts on, he may have said. After all, everyone grows withered and aged sooner or later, but to know that someone thought so very highly of his beard...well, that would have been something. At least someone noticed the great care he’d taken with it that morning, greater care than usual. In fact, he’d bought special beard oil just for this wedding occasion. No doubt it would dazzle any who saw its effects - the gleam and shine like a lion’s mane, soft as puppy fur, and as well kempt as the great temples in Judea. It was a credit to him. A real credit, and had he but known that Selima was a woman of such discerning taste, she would have been further elevated in his estimation.

Alas, he did not know, and so continued looking round for Maeri. Not conspicuously, of course. Wouldn’t do to look too eager. People might think he was in this marriage for carnal matters. Those would be a natural byproduct, of course, but he was quite sure they wouldn’t factor in the normal day to day. His primary concern for this union was a Yahweh fearing woman who would further his career admirably. Maeri, being so sweet and adorable couldn’t help but draw in and charm anyone she met..provided she could keep her talking in check. He’d speak to her about that when there was time.

“There,” Thaddeus said in his ear, sounding as though he was the one getting married instead of Amiti. Shiloh patted Amiti’s shoulder, and Amiti felt his father give his other shoulder a squeeze.

“There,” he repeated, his eyes on Maeri as she positively beamed into the hall. So. This was it then. They’d just have to put a brave face on it. Other people were married and they seemed relatively fine...Here he cast a look at Simeon. Yes, despite his own parents’ marriage’s tragic outcome, this would be better. None of that harloting and scheming and using. Maeri was a kind, sweet girl. Yes, this would be…fine.

He stroked his beard for courage, he turned to face her oncoming visage. It was impossible to see her through that veil but he liked to imagine that she was smiling and happy as anyone could be. After all, she was getting to marry him. Though she was taking an awfully long time. Her steps were measured and practiced. Not too fast, not too slow... he counted under his breath the seconds it was taking, as a way to pass the time until at last, she was within reach. At last, they turned to each other and the ceremony could begin.

It went by in an absolute blur. Amiti dutifully kept his eyes on Maeri’s veil through most of it, until it was time to look away and out at the assembled crowd again. Thankfully, he wasn’t required to say anything, except to invite them to stay at the feast and make merry. The celebration was to be grand, as grand as any Mahnheeg’s should be, and hopefully grander to throw off the memory of a wedding that had gone sour.

Though, as they turned, Amiti’s mouth was suddenly dry because...it had now come to the point where he saw Thaddeus approaching him. Amiti’s hand squeezed Maeri’s. “We’ll get through this,” he said under his breath but it was unclear if he meant that for her or him. It was to be his brother to lead them to the private room where they would consummate their union before joining everyone at the feast, as was proper.

Weddings always made Abir think back to his own wedding. He and Katriel had been married over eleven years ago now. It was hard to believe some days, marked only in the growth of their daughter. She had been the ultimate reason Abir had married Katriel, though neither of them had ever admitted it. Sometimes, these days more often than others, Abir wondered if he would have married her otherwise. The early days of their marriage had been full of promise and love, at least on Abir’s side. Katriel had seemed to return it, but he now wondered if that had ever been genuine. So uncertain in his own worthiness, Abir took great stock in what she had told him when they were young. Now, he simply struggled to have meaningful conversations with his wife.

Of course, none of that would be obvious to anyone today. As a married couple, they would be seen as some kind of example at this wedding, though Abir hardly felt like an example at all. In fact, he rather wished he didn’t have to go, but duty permitted it and Abir would never shirk his duty.

His family had departed for Damascus slightly behind his parents and sister, Abir waiting on Katriel to ready Livana and then herself. He was patient, used to waiting when they attended such events. His wife liked to look exquisite and when Abir saw her he could not deny that she did. However, when he used to get a rush of butterflies in his stomach when seeing her, he now felt something more akin to dread. When had everything changed so much?

Truthfully, he had an answer to that, but would avoid thinking about it as much as possible today, even though he was certain that would be impossible. The bride’s sister had often been on his mind as of late, after all. However, his daughter was an excellent distraction, demanding stories from him their entire journey to Damascus, keeping Abir entertained. He loved to see a smile on his little girl’s face, remarking each day that he couldn’t believe how old she was getting. She was so sweet and loving—Abir wished that she might yet be an older sister, but time was not on their side.

The three of them arrived slightly behind his parents and Davitah, though with plenty of time before the ceremony. Livana snuggled in right between him and his mother, excited to watch the ceremony. It was the first she had ever been to and she was wanting to experience it all. Abir gave his mother a warm smile, though there wasn’t much time for conversation before the ceremony started. While all eyes were on the bride, Abir’s glanced to her sister, watching Talora. He had been longing to talk with her—perhaps today would be their chance.

Amarissa, like most best friends of brides, had been scurrying around like red desert fox helping with preparations. Dressed in a deep forest green dress, she wore a soft cream scarf to cover her long head of dark brown hair. It was soft and fluffy, a by-product of the bathing and combing required of festivities such as these.

She'd been so busy in fact she'd almost missed the ceremony! Scurrying away from the preparations, she'd slipped in next to her parents and barely kept the tears from her eyes as her best friend walked slowly down to meet Amiti.

She thought back to rumors at the temple and hoped this would dispel them. There was nothing between her and that man. Friendship. Respect maybe. But the months of him hardly even speaking a word to her made one thing perfectly clear. The camel incident had been just that. An incident. An accident. With no real impact on their lives going forward no matter what was said or not said, felt or imagined.

And while Amarissa would have been lying if she'd said his silence hadn't hurt a bit, on the other hand she was glad of it. They had slipped back into their roles without any lingering entanglements. Amarissa's honor, it seemed was still intact save for a few whispers and Amiti's dedication to his new bride hadn't been called into question. Everything was fine. Perfect even.

Amarissa smiled broadly as she watched her friend join the man that would be Maeri's husband, confidant and protector. She had no doubt he would do so with his whole heart. If she'd learned anything about the man, it was that he thought and felt deeper than one might assume. He cared more than he let on and Amarissa was thankful that Maeri had found such a man.

Her eyes wandered to those around her and smiled in a friendly fashion at any who met her eye. Cheerful and bubbly had always been her natural composure and today was no different. That said, she was taking special care to not mess anything up for Amiti or Maeri. While the engagement had shown Maeri could easily roll with any surprises, Amarissa knew Amiti would be horrified if anything, anything went the slightest bit wrong.

As the couple completed the ceremony and walked off together towards the room, Amarissa briefly imagined their time there. She shook it off, realizing too late that she'd let such sinful thoughts enter her head. Still she hoped they would find some comfort and pleasure there. She'd seen to some of the arrangements there as well and had made sure there was wine in case Maeri needed it. Heavens knew the girl was in for an education.

As the crowd dispersed and moved off towards the reception, Amarissa noticed a lingering look between Selima's son and Maeri's elder sister. Curiosity tickled her brain but there was to much to do to linger on it for long. Giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, Amarissa darted off once more to help make sure the reception continued smoothly in Maeri and Amiti's expected absence.

They might have been walking in a funeral procession for how solemn and quiet Amiti was. All the weddings he’d been to, the groom had positively shon light from his eyes, his grin, his movements. Amiti wondered why that was; the prospect of what they were about to do, how irrevocably it would change their lives was overwhelmingly daunting. It was a piece of himself that he couldn’t get back - that unknowing. His father had been married and it’d nearly broken the man, but Amiti understood the union to be a necessary evil - after all, he did want children and he did want his career to improve. Both of those things, of course, meant he needed a woman. The one beside him was lovely, of course she was, and highly innocent, which was what had comforted him most. If she’d known more than she did, he’d have been running from the hills, probably screaming HARLOT over his shoulder.

Amiti kept his attention on the center of Thaddeus’s shoulder blades, like a guidestone. He could do this. They’d enter the room...He cleared his throat. They’d enter the room and-.....

Amiti squeezed Maeri’s hand in return because he truthfully couldn’t picture what came next. Intellectually he knew. He did some research. It’s just he’d never even kissed anyone, much less held hands, and this was an entirely new experience. Amiti only just resisted making a noise of pleading for rescue at the back of his throat when he spotted the pallet. It took everything in him not to turn around and look for any kind of excuse as to why he might be needed elsewhere. He could not. If he was perceived to be anything other than elated about this, that might cause laughter. As he understood it, men liked this. So, apparently he should, too. Only he wasn’t excited. His heart hammered and he felt ill. And clouds above, but he was sweating a bit. He’d have to try and get a rag or something so Maeri wouldn’t notice.

Thaddeus clapped him on the shoulder, smiled at him, clapped him again, and then left. Amiti swallowed hard and watched his brother leave. The door closed with such a finality that Amiti felt heat creeping up his neck and he pulled at the collar of suddenly tight robes, thinking it was very hot in here. When he looked over at Maeri, he found her facing him. He dropped his hand at once but then the pitched noise at the back of his throat came out in a high, thin moan that could have sounded a lot like “mnnnooooooooooooooo” when she began to remove her veil. He was quick to cover that with an extended cough and an apology. “I need wine, would you like some?”

That happened to be at the same time that Maeri reached for it and offered some to him. A half relieved laugh trilled out and he had to cough again to drop that down to a respectably masculine level. “Thank you.” Full relief now that he heard his own voice coming out deeper and even. This was fine. What was he afraid of? There was nothing to be afraid of. She was adorable. Look at her there, sipping her wine, all large blue eyes and blushing smile. Again she reminded him of a little beaming sun. Except he didn’t want to have sex with the sun.

She visibly relaxed and he felt his shoulders drop a little as his own tension eased. This was fine. Through the door, someone laughed. There was a host of people out there, feasting, enjoying themselves...and here he was, ensconced with his bride and they were supposed to just...do it, right here, right now, with all those people witnessing that the union had actually occurred. He was positive that people would know if they hadn’t actually done anything. There would be some invisible sign on their foreheads that marked them as well and truly adult, now. Or, would once they’d done their duty.

“Maeri,” Amiti took a final sip of his wine and set it aside. He cleared his throat and reached for both of her hands, holding them lightly by the fingertips so that she wouldn’t feel his palms sweating. “I know you to be a very good, godly girl and I’m sure this next part of the ceremony will be no fun for either of us, but we must get through it.” He thought maybe if he promised not to enjoy it at all that this would put her at ease. She wouldn’t feel used or have some sort of expectation that he was going to be after her every night. Amiti felt very sure he would not be so licentious as to try to have sex with his wife constantly like some sort of animal. Perhaps a respectable once a week? Just to do his duty by her? It would not do for her to claim he never touched her. That was an even worse crime. Why was marriage so complicated?

Taking her hands, he encouraged her to stand. Once she was on her feet, he flashed her a reassuring smile and led her over to the pallet. Here, he looked down at it, squared his jaw, and nodded to himself. Right. He blew out a breath, and turned to his wife. “I’m going to undress you now.”
That was what the book had said to do. Amiti went a step further and warned her so that she wouldn’t jump or scream. That’d be unacceptable because the people out there might think he was doing something inappropriate, or, worse, wrong. Maybe he should look at this clinically? Like a physician? Yes, that was good. Physicians had to see naked women all the time! They got through it and remained completely professional. He could, too. He was a councilman, after all. If he couldn’t deal with a naked woman in a calm, collected manner, he didn’t deserve his position.

Amiti pasted on a smile that he was positive was confident yet qualified, and reached out to remove Maeri’s outer robe. It was unexpectedly warm with her body heat and he paused a moment, realizing that they were closer in this moment than they ever had been. Steady, Amiti, he thought to himself. There was an unexpected dropping sensation in his stomach as he looked down into her face. Was he going to vomit or was that a good thing...hard to tell. There was no bile in his throat, so he filed it under the ‘good thing’ category. He took time to neatly fold her robe and hand it to her so she could figure out where she wanted to put it. Then he started in on her second layer. This one was warmer than the first and Amiti felt his stomach tighten. Of their own accord, his eyes dropped to her chest and he ripped his gaze back up to her face, his cheeks blazing pink.

Once he had her second layer off, he folded this one as well and handed it to her. She was only in her shift now and he swallowed hard. Hard. Oh no. He looked down and immediately whirled about. Oh dear….he’d had to deal with this as a teen but he’d been pretty well under self control in his twenties. Now? So near an almost naked woman his body decides to have its own ideas, again?

This was a good thing, he supposed, shrugging out of his outer robe and taking meticulous care to fold it. This one he did not hand to Maeri and instead he set it down on the floor on his side of the pallet. For some reason, he wanted to apologize to her about what his body was doing, but, as it was necessary, he didn’t. Standing back up, he removed his second robe and was now in a male version of the shift she was wearing. Facing her like this, across the bed, made him feel like this was almost a challenge. He could rise to a challenge. Well he couldn’t rise more than he was now, but the inclination to prove himself was there.

“Let’s kneel,” he said, pointing to the center of the bed. “And we will both disrobe there.” It was too much for him to try to do that standing up and away. He waited for her to start kneeling first, and then he followed so that they came together at nearly the same time. His eyes searched hers and he nodded. “Ready.” Only, it was a ready like someone might say at the start of a game of kickball. Firm. Decisive. Not at all sexual. While he was pretty sure that his body might alarm her, he thought that would be due to not having seen a man before, rather than actual dislike. To his mind, there was absolutely no reason why she should dislike him and his ego flattered him that with time, she would like him immensely. Though, hopefully not too much. Not enough to be sinful. But an appropriate appreciation.

He lifted his shift over his head and, like the other three layers, turned to fold this one as well. It seemed fitting because he couldn’t imagine having folded the first two and just drop this one in a crumpled heap. But, of course, his hands were busy so he instructed Maeri to fold hers. Trusting that she was doing that, he took the few seconds to stay half twisted away and prepare himself. Here we go, Amiti, he thought. Perform well. Make your family proud. Only that last thought had him wrinkling his nose a bit. Family was not something he wanted to think of in this precise moment.

Turning back to Maeri, he found her naked. “Oh…” he’d never been so hot in his entire life. His face might light itself on fire and he simply couldn’t keep his attention on her face. His eyes wandered everywhere. He’d never seen a girl’s bare shoulders, or upper arms, or her chest, torso, anything. All of his thoughts flew straight out of his head and he had the impulse to touch her. Reaching out, he used just his index finger to poke the center of her right breast. One poke. A testing second poke. A third. Maybe he should hold it. Yeah. Amiti sidled closer to her so that he could get a nice hold and decided, why stop at one? Why not hold both?

So there they were, kneeling on the pallet, he holding both of her breasts and smiling into her face in a sort of triumph that he hadn’t spontaneously combusted. “These are soft,” he said with an inflection he’d later be embarrassed by - marveling.

They knelt there a few seconds longer before Amiti leaned forward, closing in the distance a fraction of an inch at a time. He’d thought to kiss her but at that precise moment the head of his penis touched her stomach. The unexpected contact made him nearly jump back. It felt...nice. Very nice. And weird and he was embarrassed because he wanted that to happen again. But why should he feel weird? It should happen again...except elsewhere. This was complicated. He was getting impatient with himself because he didn’t like not knowing what he was doing.

The book he’d read told him precisely where he was supposed to go but was vague on the execution aspect. He’d read a philosopher’s book, rather than some sort of far fetched story that might sully his mind. There was no such book written by a Judean so he’d searched for one written by a Greek. They were openly sinful. They’d have that sort of thing widely available and sure enough, he’d read Vaeraelos’s Guide To The Wedding Night. Of course it’d been full of all kinds of Greek nonsense like ritual baths and pagan sacrifices. He’d ignored that, but the rest was educational. Maeri would benefit from his knowledge, he was sure.

“Lay down on your back,” he instructed and waited until she’d done that. Only, he couldn’t help it. He did have to take a look at where he was supposed to go and with all the clinical professionalism of a physician, Amiti settled down on his knees between her legs and had her lay there so that he could see where to go. “This is nice,” he gestured to her sex. A compliment was a good thing. Women liked those. “You’re very nice,” he added in a rare flourish of extra praise.

“Do not be frightened,” he told her as he leaned forward onto his hands and took up what he thought of as the position. This wasn’t so bad...in fact this was going shockingly well. No one was crying...What was entirely awkward, though, was that he had to grab his own shaft and direct the head of his penis to her opening. He’d assumed everything would just slide on in, easy as anything. Except it didn’t. It was dry skin on dry skin and it hurt. Amiti backed up a little, confused, and decided to get his face closer to Maeri’s sex so that he could check out what was going on, like he was inspecting an errant wagon axle.

The book had said something about lubricant and women usually needed some. Luckily, some kind soul seemed to have thought of that already. On a low table by the pallet sat a small jar of olive oil. Amiti hadn’t thought anything of it before because he’d been distracted but now he understood its purpose. Explaining to Maeri in extreme scientific detail what he was going to do with the olive oil and where he was going to put it, always careful, of course, to keep his voice low in case people were listening at the door, he applied it to her with all the delicacy a fragile pane of glass would require - as though she might break into a thousand pieces. He knew that fear was illogical, but it was there. What if women were just too...delicate?

Except now his fingers were oily and he was naked and he looked around for some sort of cloth to rub his hand off on...but there was nothing. Nothing but his robes, and he wasn’t using those, and her robes, which he was also not using...Pallet sheets, then. He slid his hand back and forth on the sheets to get the olive oil away, taking care to get between his fingers. How could he perform with that icky slick feeling?

Except the icky slick feeling was great once he ‘took up position’ again. Oh no. He was enjoying this way too much. Better tone it down a little or she’d think him disgusting. That meant that he couldn’t really look into her face, so he chose to look at the space of sheet beside her ear where her hair fanned out. He went really slow, pausing whenever she needed him to, but as soon as he got two good thrusts...it was over. His body shuddered and he made a hard, sigh as the very sudden pressure and release washed over him. The feeling lasted a few seconds and then faded away, leaving him feeling entirely odd.

“Ahem,” Amiti cleared his throat and finally looked at her face. “There.” He nodded and patted her shoulder. “We did it. Duty over.” Only now he was left with this mess and there was still no cloth because someone had thought of the oil and nothing ELSE. He felt dirty now, and a bit ashamed of himself. Turning to Maeri but keeping his lap positioned away, he said, “I’m sorry I was too over excited. It won’t happen again. I’ll be more solemn next time.”

The saving grace of this entire situation was now he had a real purpose: getting clean. He cast about the room, disbelieving of there being no washbasin anywhere. There had to be...oh. Over there. Across the room. With the wine. Of course. He stood up and brought the entire thing back to the pallet, washing first as was his place as a man before giving her the towel to clean herself up.

“We should dress…” he said eventually. Now he didn’t want to leave the room because he’d walk out there and people would know about the embarrassing display and loss of control just now...why was life so horrible?