A Wedding in Camelot
In Celebration of the Wedding of
Gentle Mike and the Lovely Lady Marina
September 14, 1996
So, today we are happy to inform you that the Citizens of Camelot are sharing our joy at the joining of Gentle Mike and the Lady Marina. We are pleased to be able to bring you just a portion of the celebration and joy felt by Camelot.
I, Arthur Pendragon, King of the realm, do hereby decree that the 14th day of September, in the year of our Lord 1996, shall be a day of unrestrained celebration in honor of the nuptials of Gentle Mike and the Lady Marina.
* * * * * * * * * *
From the parapets to the scullery, Camelot is buzzing. Pre-dawn
preparations are under way in every corner of the land. Banners
being unpacked, pennants ironed, pavilions readied, armor being
shined (this is Camelot, not CuddleLand, remember), horses groomed,
orange sauce being prepared
Delegations are arriving from North,
South, East and West. Ships bedecked with signal flags waving are
being moored at the docks. Ambassadorial representatives from
Australia, Canada, the Czech Republic, CuddleLand, Finland, Germany,
Holland, Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa, Sweden, the Netherlands,
The United Kingdom, The United States, and Wales are preparing to
honor the couple. Other delegations are arriving hourly, finding
accommodations in the inns and pavilions.
Even at this early hour, everywhere one looks people are smiling and
waving gaily at one another. Festive garb is the rule of the day and
regional costumes abound. Magnificent odors waft gently on the wind
as preparations begin for traditional feasts. In honor of the special
CuddleLand delegation an entire inn is dedicated to the measuring,
blending and cooking of m'oatmeal and choco-chip cookies. Another
inn is melting pure chocolate and reforming it in the shape of
wedding bells. Lisa the Dreamer's son has joined CuddleAngel's
and Cuddlbug's boys to help tie them in pairs with silver cord.
Auntie Angela watches over them as Little Nicholas plays with the
shiny spools of cord.
As the sun begins to edge above the trees, the Castle itself begins
to come alive. The Camelot Ladies in Waiting, assisted by Cuddlbug
herself, begin laying out the beautiful gowns of the Princesses,
emerald greens, sapphire blues, softest pinks, and pale yellow, silks
and satins, brocades and velvet. The Ladies will indeed be lovely.
The bride's dress is a splendid display of the purest white satin,
with layers upon layers of beautifully delicate lace. Hundreds of
tiny seed pearls are scattered across the flowing train. The pearls
cast an iridescent glow reflected in the shining satin. A glow
similar to that in the eyes of Gentle Mike when he gazes at his
Lady fair.
The Ladies won't be arising for another few hours as they were
toiling late into the night finalizing preparations which must be
accomplished before the ceremony. The strands of flowers to be
braided into Marina's hair are being kept cool and fresh by the magic
of the castle. The silken ribbons for the bridesmaids tresses are
separated by color, awaiting nimble fingered Ladies to weave them
into artful arrangements.
Knights also will be a bit slow in arising. Unfortunately most will
be a bit heavy in the head. This narrative is poorly suited for
discussion of the previous nights activities so they will be laid
to rest without description. All that needs to be said is that
Gentle Mike is in fine mettle.
Perhaps the stables and carriage houses are the busiest places of
all. Huge war horses are being brushed and combed by teams of
grooms. Carriage ponies are likewise being treated to special
brushings, their tails and manes carefully braided. Bridles and bits
of silver and brass are shined to beyond gleaming. Leather oiled
and rubbed to a sheen. The carriage house just behind is abuzz with
activity. Not a squeaky wheel in the place. Gilt trim being
retouched by painters, washers busy with brushes and cloth. Brocade
seats being tended to by seamstresses, while the coachmen check the
running equipment from stem to stern (it's a Navy town, doncha know?)
Leaving the Castle and town proper we near the lists where the games
and jousting will begin in a few short hours. Gardeners trimming
hedges, carpenters putting the final touches on the Kings Pavilion
and stadia. Knights pavilions stand apart, awaiting their appointed
hour. Squires rummage through equipment, seeking that which will
best serve their masters. Special efforts are underway to mount
the traditional celebrational pillows to the lance tips and the
wooden shafts are sawed three quarters through so an injurious blow
may be avoided.
Beyond the lists the grasses are especially neat. Flowers have been
planted along every path, and all paths lead to the magnificent
alter. Marble and alabaster shine in the morning sun, as the
sparkling rays dry the last drops of dew from the golden steps
rising to the alter. Countless bouquets of white roses encircle
the meadow. A full quarter mile across and deep the meadow will
contain the thousands of guests from around the globe. But twenty
high backed chairs are near to the altar, set aside for the closest
of family. All others will spread their blankets on the soft grass
to await the arrival of the couple.
But what of the Bride? Clearly another reporter must place those
words to paper as this writer was foiled in his attempts to gain
admittance to the Bridal Chambers.
The Bridal Chambers are yet in shadow. The Beautiful Marina is
only just awakened. The Ladies hear movement in the room and ask
to enter. Marina smiles her welcome and the bridal preparations
begin. The sunlight flows through the high windows as the drapes
are opened. Brighter than the sun is the smile on the face of the
Lady to be wed. A perfumed bath is drawn, the beautiful dress is
brought from the closet of holding, the flowers, the ribbons, all
is made ready. A lacy blue garter, "Something old, something new,
something borrowed, something blue, and a lucky six pence in her
shoe", and a very special CuddleLand tradition, one of Sir Isle's
friendship pebbles for each of the attendants.
And the Groom? Preparing as do all grooms. Quick shower, throw on
some old grubbies, nick an ale from the cabinet, and flick on the
telly for a game of football. Plenty of time to get ready after
the game. (Remember, this is a corner of CuddleLand, there is no
need to do without modern conveniences.)
A hush falls upon the meadow. The assembled masses wait expectantly
as the sun reaches it’s zenith, the appointed hour draws near.
Birds chirp in the forest, crickets sing merrily, children play
quietly at their parents side, somehow knowing that their ebullient
joyousness would somehow be out of place on this day, at this time.
At the instant of noontide, the portcullis on the castle begins to
rise, trumpets sound from the ramparts, announcing to the world that
the pageantry and ceremony has begun.
Leading the procession, 400 footmen clad in scarlet, each bearing
the shield of an honored guest. Four wide, filling the drawbridge
with color and grandeur. As the last steps to the grass, from
beneath the majestic arch appears the first of 100 courtiers.
Colors from across the spectrum, armed with ceremonial daggers
and each with a staff bearing the waving banner of a noble family,
the courtiers follow the footmen to the meadow. The footmen line
the edges of the meadow, a scarlet ring. Courtiers form a honor
guard stretching nearly to the castle itself, a human chain, with
glorious banners held high, waving in the gentle breeze.
Again the trumpets blare. The drawbridge is filled with the
shining silk, satin, and lace of the Ladies of the Land. Each
escorted by a gentleman squire, the Ladies make their way regally
to the meadow, forming an colorful arc beginning at the corners of
the alter and smoothly curving to embrace the expectant crowd.
Each has played her part in the creation of this magnificent
enterprise, each with a knowing smile, radiant, calm, beautiful.
Yet again the trumpets sing, announcing the entrance of the Lords
of Camelot and the Known World. Raiment from the four corners of
the globe bedazzle the crowd. Jewels sparkle in the sun, flickering
as if alive. Dukes, Earls, Lords all, afoot in deference to the
couple they have come to honor.
The ring of steel on steel. Brightness beyond that which the eye
can bear. Mighty horses of war, powerful hooves pounding the earth
with barely contained energy, carry their masters forward. Armor
shining in the noonday sun, swords glinting, etched blades sheathed
in gleaming gilt sleeves, lances raised in awesome glory, the
Knights of Camelot depart the castle walls. Lancelot, noblest of
the knights, leads them from the castle.
And, what ho? How is this? The last of the knights, bearing weapons
strange to this land, representing the Royal Order of CuddleLand
Knights, Sir Charlie, in armor somewhat tarnished, but made of the
stuff of battle, not of ceremony. Helm under his arm, a regal
representative of the Royalty of CuddleLand, Sir Charlie moves
towards the Alter, wheels his steed as he approaches, and awaits
the arrival of his fellow Cuddlers. The Knights of CuddleLand
provide escort and chivalrous accompaniment to the Princessii of
the Realm. They walk slowly from the Castle to the Meadow and two
by two, take their places near the alter. Standing proudly,
protective and true to their pledge, they are the Royals of
alt.cuddle.
For the final time the trumpets fill the air with their mighty song.
A golden carriage drawn by four tall steeds, blacker than night
itself, shining as oiled ebony, they draw the glorious conveyance
from the shadows of the castle walls. Lords, Ladies, Courtiers,
Footmen, and the assembled citizens kneel to their Liege. Each
glancing upwards to catch but a glimpse of the handsome groom,
Gentle Mike, seated at the side of Arthur. Arthur, eyes twinkling,
gently prods Gentle Mike. "Friend, today is your day, rise and
greet those who would honor you." Aghast that he should stand before
the seated King, Mike hesitates. "Stand, Michael, Princess
TuggyBear is with the Queen and it would indeed be unfortunate if
I had to advise her that you disobeyed your King." Like a shot,
Mike is on his feet, waving to the crowd, smiling in unabashed joy.
Resplendent in his white cut-away he causes a bit of a stir among
the Ladies. Soft murmurs fan through the assembly as whispered
words are exchanged. Ahh, the Lady Marina is truly a lucky Lady
indeed.
The crowd, as one, rises and fills the air with a roar heard by the
squirrels playing near the CuddlePond. The cheer has startled the
birds of the forest who rise in the sky and, unfortunately, block
the view of the CuddleAngel who thought she could get a better view
by just hovering quietly above the alter. The carriage draws to a
halt barely a foot from the lowest step of the gilt ladder leading
to the alter. Footmen edge closer and place a golden step in place,
and the King descends to the grass followed by Gentle Mike. Of
their own volition the ebony team moves the carriage to the meadow
behind the alter and stands silently, awaiting their next duties.
Sir Charlie moves forward to stand at the right hand of Gentle
Mike, for today royalty serves.
Again a hush falls on the assembled masses. All eyes turn
expectantly to the castle. The arrival of the Lady Marina can be
but moments away.
A soft sound, rising pure and sweet, as the minstrel begins to
play. A single horse, pure white as the snow capped peaks of the
mountains, steps lightly on the drawbridge. Behind the elegant
animal is a carriage of white, scribed with silver, spokes bedecked
with the whitest of roses. In the carriage, three Ladies. One
radiant in a crimson gown, tiara of flawless diamonds, Ruby slippers
upon her feet. A second in royal purple, golden crown shining in
the sunlight. And between them, them the Bride, gowned in white
satin and delicate lace, and veiled demurely as befits the day.
Princess TuggyBear, Queen Guinevere, and the Lady Marina are drawn
slowly towards the awestruck multitude. Even the forest animals are
moved to silent stillness with the beauty of the moment. This
carriage, too draws to the foot of the gilt stair and first the
Queen, then the Princess, and finally the beautiful Bride alight.
Sir Charlie, ever vigilant, watches Gentle Mike with just a bit
of concern. Mike has forgotten to breathe and is nigh to collapse.
Sir Charlie nudges him gently, bringing him from his trance.
Seeing that Mike has recovered his senses sufficiently to proceed,
Arthur mounts the four gilt stairs to the alter and turns slowly
to the crowd. As their King motions, Gentle Mike and Marina
ascend, Princess TuggyBear and Sir Charlie a step below, near
to their wards.
"People of Camelot, Lords and Ladies, honored guests, Welcome.
Today is the culmination of a ceremony begun many months ago atop
a tower in the City of Lights. Upon bended knee did Gentle Mike
plea for the hand of Lady Marina, and without hesitation did the
fair Lady grant his plea. So it is today that as their King, I
shall seal that bond, born in love, nurtured with respect,
nourished with the honor they hold for each other. This bond
upon which I place a worldly seal is truly sealed in the hearts
of Mike and Marina. Kneel children, join your hands, your hearts,
and your minds, for now and forever after you are wed. Rise now,
take each other in your arms and let your spirits flow freely
between you as you are now one, forever. Gentle Mike, Lady Marina
arise now and for the first time as husband and wife, face your
friends as you will face life, *together*." With a soft kiss,
Gentle Mike and the Lady Marina seal their pledge to one another
and turn to greet the those who have gathered to share in this
glorious day of celebration.
By Cuddlbug and Galahad
September 14, 1996