Matilda, Child of Fire

TFB: Mr. & Mrs. Halliwell

36 TFB: Mr. & Mrs. Halliwell

"I don't know how this river runs/But I'd like the company through every twist and turn..."

-Ben Platt, song "Grow as We Go"

7 pm, One Year Later, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today," Morgana began, peering at the attendees through her beaded bifocals, "to witness the joining together of Matilda Valensi and Wyatt Halliwell, the second of his name in the sanctified covenant of matrimony, thereby uniting two formidable Charmed families." Jordan beamed up at his beautiful grown-up niece Matilda, dressed in an impeccably chic BHLDN floor-length bohemian gown. It seemed like yesterday he was babysitting her toddler self, convincing her to eat her mushy peas. He felt a tiny set of fingers wrap around his own and smiled at the small, squirming bundle Maggie held in her arms. Lucretia Abigael. His little Lucy, at long last, conceived the very evening the Portender had been vanquished.

For as long as he could remember, Jordan worked as hard as he could, becoming an EMT, a lawyer, a sports gym operator and instructor—cramming in as much as he possibly might before the Chase family curse wielded its ugly head, cutting his life unceremoniously short at the tender age of twenty-five. He had the Charmed Ones to thank for that—in particular, a certain woman by the name of Maggie Vera. "Formidable. I like Morgana's word choice," Jordan whispered in Maggie's ear as she grinned, recalling how he had called her by the term those many years ago, back when the cellar of SafeSpace had been her and her sisters' emergency safe haven as she sought to free him from his doomsday.

7:20 pm, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington

Macy sat next to Harry in the front aisle mere feet from her daughter Matilda. Her BHLDN Bronx & Banco Amora dress fit like a glove, its coppery floral-petaled silk shimmering in the summer breeze, complementing her corkscrew curls perfectly, which were currently nestled in the crook of his shoulder. Their oldest daughter Maya sported a lovely trumpet mermaid one-shoulder asymmetric damask pink bridesmaid dress, standing to her sister's side at the ready.

"I never thought I'd live to see this moment," Harry murmured between Macy's curls, as she turned her head toward him. He recalled the time Jimmy, his Darklighter, called from the abyss crying for help, himself knowing all the while that the destruction of Jimmy meant that of his own. A Widomaker's Heart, he termed it, when speaking to Mel about the grave situation at hand. Walking his daughter down the aisle just now gave him a miraculous sense of wonder at life having come full circle at last. "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to be married—again—and have kids—once more—"

"But you did, and you have, and you've been the best husband and father anyone could ever ask for," Macy kissed the tips of Harry's chestnut-silvery sideburns as they watched the ceremony come to a joyous close. Rising, they walked to the outer edge of the garden as Piper's catering company swooped in to rearrange the rows of seating into a reception-style banquet arrangement. The pair entered the hidden hollow beneath the towering begonia bush.

7:30 pm, Begonia Bush, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington

"Will I be a good grandfather though?" Harry's face was lined with worry. "I missed out entirely with Carter's children—and only had a glimpse of his grandchildren—"

"You had a memory wipe that took everything away from you, you searched for Carter, and you made sure he was loved, septuagenarian and all. If that's any indication, I think you'd make an excellent granddad someday. The very best," Macy kissed him softly, completely oblivious to the throng of magical folk in Vera Manor Garden.

"Thank you for that," he replied. "For the record, I think you'll make a rather attractive, vixen-like grandmother, if I do say so myself, Dr. Valensi," Harry breathed, savoring the scent of jasmine on her tawny curls, lined ever-so-slightly with a hint of glimmering silver.

"Oh you do, do you?" Macy surveyed his now-smoldering eyes with a mischievous expression. "Care to test that theory sometime?"

"Wouldn't mind if I do," Harry responded. "But sometime later, love, the wedding party beckons."

"As you wish." Macy grinned as he reached for her hand and kissed it, making eye contact all the while.

The pair gingerly stepped out of the cavernous fuchsia begonia-blossomed surroundings, returning once more to the excited chatter of the wedding party, the sparkling trellised tealights glowing overhead with a hint of ambient jazz filtering through, ushering in the promise of a future generation of witches, warlocks, and Whitelighters alike.