by Shadowy Star

December 2006

Disclaimer: I don't own the Coldfire trilogy. It belongs to C.S. Friedman. I do own this story. Characters not appearing or being mentioned in the original trilogy are likewise mine. Do not archive or translate or otherwise use the story without permission.

A/N: What are you supposed to do when your father is going to marry your father-in-law? Ask Geraldine. She can tell.

This is an interquel to 'Survivals', set somewhere in Chapter 5.

Geraldine looked at the assortment of jewelry the goldsmith was presenting to her.

The poor man looked as if he was contemplating various methods of suicide. Well, Geraldine was a picky woman. Right now, she was looking for something special. Something that fitted the two she had in mind. Now that was a challenge if there ever were one...

She scanned the second plate again. Silver alone wouldn't do it though it was her father-in-law's favorite material. Gold wouldn't either. Platinum? Oh, dammit, there was just nothing fitting those two lovebirds. Vulking Hell! Oh, there were the damn hormones again! She scanned the third plate impatiently. Still nothing. Wait a minute, she thought as two pairs of delicate rings caught her eye. They seemed to be spawn of gold and silver in a way that made her think of leaves and branches – and forests.

She remembered a scene she'd witnessed accidentally some weeks ago. Slender fingers across silver scars, dark olive skin against gold-tanned one, long black hair shielding the two of them from the world…

"Just perfect!" she exclaimed happily. "I'll take them," she said, her smile wicked enough to make the poor goldsmith wish himself very far away.

And now, let's pick the right clothes.

Lady Geraldine da Silva had a wedding to plan.

"I'm most certainly not going to wear that!" Damien Vryce exclaimed three hours later after having taken a closer look at what his daughter considered appropriate clothing.

"Oh yes, you are," Geraldine told him firmly, looking at cream colored, elegantly embroidered velvet. "What? You will look good at your own wedding even if I have to punch you into that! Or is that my chioce of colors? Did you prefer to wear white?"

He choked. With children like these...

"No! No! Geraldine, it's ... just too small!"

"It's not! Just perfect to outline your muscles. And I'm saying that from a woman's, not from a daughter's point of view."

"I'd rather have that last one," he answered.

Geraldine glared daggers at him.

"Every father doesn't want to accept his daughter has grown up," he explained, trying to distract her from the subject of his wedding attire.

Of course, it didn't work out. She was his daughter after all.

"Damn!" he growled helplessly.

"Well," Geraldine said threateningly. "Either that or I'll ask Karril to Work an Illusion on you!"

"I'd prefer that!"

"Even if it were one of you wearing nothing at all?" she asked sweetly. "I'm sure your beloved would appreciate the view."