May, the season of flowers, was always the most colorful time of the year.
The azure sky was as beautiful as a flawless sapphire, while the residents had decorated Fisslet until it scarcely seemed a place for mortals. The houses had received fresh coats of white paint and gleamed in the sunlight.
Beautiful, colorful flowers filled the sides of the streets and the balconies along the walls. Countless bees flitted among them, busy at work yet also taking part in the wedding.
Winterhold, the wedding venue, was adorned with countless gem-studded decorations. The hundred guards standing on either side of Main Avenue wore gleaming silver plate armor trimmed with gold, and the halberds in their hands reflected a cold, sharp light.
These were Rhodok soldiers whom Bunduk had gone to great lengths to recruit, and whom Allen had spent a great deal of renown upgrading into Rhodok sergeants. This had virtually exhausted everything he had saved recently.
Most of Allen's friends had also arrived: the lads who had followed him to Middle-earth, the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain, the Hobbits of the Shire, the prince and lords of Rohan, the Sindar of the Woodland Realm, the chieftain of the Northern Rangers, and the lord of Dale.
Elven envoys from Lindon, Lothlórien, and Rivendell were there as well, while the heir to the Prince of Dol Amroth arrived by ship at the last moment to represent Gondor.
Even the master of Orthanc had sent an envoy bearing his blessings.
As evening approached, all the guests came to Winterhold in their finest clothes. Even Gandalf's gray robes were much cleaner than before.
Most of the women wore beautiful flower wreaths and delicate jewelry, gently scattering petals, while the men held crystal glasses of red wine and offered their greetings to the newlyweds