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 A Promise Kept

Thoyetlini's weathered hands worked the thin supple strips of tanned leather, fingers deftly intertwining, knotting and weaving together blessings and magic from days gone by. Years of practice made the task appear almost effortless, though the quiet chanting as he attached the feathers, teeth and stones gave a clue as to the importance of the gift he was crafting. The flap to the teepee opened briefly, allowing the unusually bright light of the full moon to spill across the floor before being blocked out once again. The old shaman continued his work as the quizzical gaze from the young warrior settled on him.

"Grandfather, you missed the evening meal. Are you feeling ill?"

A ghost of a smile lifted the corner of the old man's mouth. Youth were always so quick to rush to judgment. Nowadays if he deviated from his usual routine in any manner, they automatically assumed he was ill. On the other hand he knew it was a fair question to ask. The passing years had slowly taken a toll on his health, and he knew his time to join the spirit world he had long been communing with would come sooner rather than later. "No, my grandson, I am fine. It is time for me to finish this gift for the wolf and the raven."

The young man crossed the space and settled his lanky frame next to his grandfather, his attention now focused on the intricate dreamcatcher taking shape in the old shaman's hands. Remembered the travelers who had visited them some time back, and how his grandfather felt the two in particular represented the spirits of the wolf and the raven. There was still so much for him to learn from his forefather, but it was a struggle for him, not to mention a bit intimidating. His grandfather was the living, breathing entity of the spirit world within their tribe. For him to be able to assume the old man's role one day was going to take monumental dedication on his part, and he hoped Thoyetlini would survive long enough for him to complete his education. The moonlight spilling in from the open top of the teepee reflected off some of the stones the shaman had woven into the dreamcatcher, contrasting against the midnight black of the raven's feathers cascading below the leather-encased circle. "Why now? It's been some time since they visited here."

The smile became more evident on the old man's face as a wolf howled in the distance. "I took a walk along the ridge earlier today, gazed down into the valley and across our land. You remember how I have taught you to watch for the signs that are right in front of you?" He waited until his grandson nodded. "Over the course of the day the raven flew overhead alongside the eagle. The caribou grazed in the distance while a jaguar sat on the edge of the cliff, watching them. Along the banks of the river an alligator slipped into the waters while a badger peered out from its burrow. The mockingbird sang while a mother deer and her fawn fed nearby. As the sun descended below the horizon a leopard prowled quietly through the brush. The horses gathered to feed while a scorpion waited on a log as they passed by. The dragonflies quieted down as the fireflies took their place, dancing in the breeze. A bat swooped through the air, feeding on insects while the crickets chirped and the owl silently observed from the gnarled branch he used as a perch. The rooster waits for morning as the moon rose high overhead. And all the while the raven and the wolf watch, their shadows blending together in the moonlight." The shaman drew his hand down over the dreamcatcher as he held it up in the air, the silver light illuminating it from above. "All of these things are part of their animal totems, the spirits that influence, guide and protect them. Their journey is complete; the three trials are done. This will be my gift to them, strong magic to watch over and protect the children they will have."

The young man thought on what Thoyetlini had revealed to him, the pieces of what had been a puzzle to him falling into place. He frowned slightly. "But, how will you get this present to them? I didn't know they were planning on returning here."

"They aren't," the old man replied. "I just happen to have a wedding to go to, isn't that right Natya?"

It was then that the grandson realized they weren't alone. A woman quietly stood at the far side of the teepee. She wore a simple white gown that flowed to her feet, a translucent veil draped over her dark hair that did nothing to hide her exotic beauty. Her voice was very melodic, almost hypnotic in its quality as she answered.

"Yes, Thoyetlini. We do have a wedding to attend."

Brojorn adjusted the collar of his jacket until the intricately detailed embroidery lay flat on either side. He smoothed his hands down the front of the garment, making sure there were no creases or wrinkles marring it in any way.

"If you primped any more in front of that mirror, I'd begin to think you were the one getting married," a melodious voice chimed in from the corner of the room.

"Do you ever knock?" came the slightly irritated reply as he checked his reflection one final time before turning to his unannounced guest.

"Why? After all these years, I would have thought your fine-tuned senses could pick up my arrival long before I actually materialized completely." The chuckle that followed confirmed she was neither chastised nor contrite.

Brojorn smiled in spite of himself. "One could never accuse you of being subtle, Natya."

"Oh, I have my moments," she replied cheekily. "You are looking very handsome."

Never one to shrug off a compliment, he bowed slightly in her direction. "Thank you."

"Showing off what could have been?"

Brojorn arched an eyebrow slightly. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Natya walked slowly towards him, taking in the view as she did. "Those garments are only worn during Nandanian events of the highest importance. Not to mention they highlight your...attributes...perfectly. And before you purport once again to know nothing of what I'm referring to, remember who you're talking to. I'm well aware of your fondness for the young woman."

"You are also well aware that she belongs to another, as Fate dictated. My...fondness...is a moot point."

Natya reached out and patted Brojorn on the arm. "Still, the fondness is genuine, as is the instinct to appear in a favorable light, despite what Fate has dictated. There's nothing wrong with that. And, as you will soon discover," she added cryptically, "Fate has something even better than the one who got away." Glancing out the window, she became aware of the passing time. "Are you ready to go?"

"Just a moment." A few seconds later the door opened and a young girl dressed in a lovely pastel blue gown entered the room. Brojorn held his hand out to her, and the little one placed her hand in his with a smile. Turning back to Natya he replied, "Now we are ready."

Monsignor Seanan O’Lanigan, affectionately known as Uncle Shay, adjusted his robes before picking up his Bible and walking out to stand before the gathered guests in the front of the church. He had met several of the people before the ceremony and marveled at the diverse ensemble. Most wore their military uniforms, a mixture of ranks ascending all the way to General. In fact, the best man of his soon-to-be nephew was none other than General Jack O'Neill. Daniel Jackson, a mentor and good friend of his niece also served as a groomsman for the man marrying his niece. Uncle Shay smiled benevolently upon the young Colonel, who at the moment was nervously tugging at the sleeves of his dress uniform.

Looking out among the guests, Uncle Shay once again wondered about the job his niece held. He knew Jessie had more than a token position at NORAD, even if she couldn't tell him the details, but the more unusual guests had him thinking the position definitely entailed being a diplomat or an emissary. There was the elderly man seated next to General George Hammond, who had the uncanny ability to appear as if he was looking through a person rather than at them. He was dressed in ceremonial attire resembling that of a Native American Indian. Next to him was a woman whose beauty could only be described as elegant. She wore a simple Grecian style gown in pure white with a matching gossamer head drape. Her dark hair was a perfect compliment to her tawny complexion, as were her dark, almond-shaped eyes. Next to her was a rather striking gentleman, the absence of hair upon his head taking nothing away from his light green eyes and chiseled Roman features. His attire was definitely one of a dignitary, though from what country Uncle Shay could only guess. The young girl who sat next to him was just as striking, but with brown hair and light blue eyes. Her features could only be described as angelic, and the priest found it touching that the man, Brojorn, kept his niece Aylen's hand nestled in a protective grasp. The man that anchored the end of that pew was a friend and coworker of Jessie's by the name of Teal'c. He, along with General Hammond, had obviously been given the task of keeping the dignitaries closely guarded.

Family rounded out the guests—his sister Peggy, or more formally Margaret O'Lanigan Watson, Jessie's mother. Her husband, James, had left his seat a few minutes prior in preparation of escorting his only daughter down the aisle. Wendy and Frank Mitchell, Cameron's parents, were joined by their younger son, Frankie Mitchell. A couple of childhood friends sat nearby, happy to be able to witness the blessed event.

When the cue came the music began. Jessie had decided to forgo the traditional wedding march and instead the music had a distinctive medieval Renaissance aura to it. Strangely enough it fit the small chapel with its stained glass windows and glowing candles perfectly. First down the aisle came General O'Neill escorting the maid of honor, Colonel Samantha Carter, who were then followed by Daniel and his wife Casey. Jack wore his uniform while Daniel donned a dark blue tailored Italian suit, and both Sam and Casey wore full length pale lilac silk gowns, fitting the simple yet elegant theme of the occasion. Once they had reached Uncle Shay and taken their appropriate places on either side, Jessie made her entrance with her father. She wore the same silk gown her mother had worn for her wedding, and carried a bouquet of white roses tied with a golden ribbon. Always one to do something a little differently, Jessie stopped midway down the aisle, pulled a single white rose from her bouquet and handed it to the little girl, Aylen, whose smile lit up the chapel.

Uncle Shay had presided over literally hundreds of weddings, which was precisely why this particular one had him puzzled. There was a definite energy in the air, something above and beyond the excitement of the nuptials, beyond the fact that it was his niece getting married. Once again his gaze strayed to the diplomats seated as honored guests. Perhaps it was due to their presence that the tone was...different. Regardless, it was a positive overtone and the added layer of whatever it was embraced the happy couple. Jessie's green eyes sparkled behind the delicate lace-edged veil covering her features, and while Uncle Shay would have sworn his niece and the young Colonel had been lovers, the ethereal draping seemed strangely appropriate. Mentally shrugging off the intrusive thoughts, Monsignor O'Lanigan smiled at the couple before intoning, "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and this woman in the holy sacrament of Matrimony..."

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