My tale begins many moons ago (right about one-thousand-and-four of them), in the early evening of a Thursday at the start of autumn. Many strange and wondrous things have happened between then and now, but you're here asking about a very particular story, aren't you? Well, come. Sit by the fire, have a warm drink, (I promise there's nothing poisonous in these ones) and I'll tell you how this story is beginning.

This particular part of the story starts with a hunt, as many good stories of old do. I had been searching for some time, trying to find exactly the right man. Not just any man would do, you see. I knew what I wanted, and I was quickly growing impatient with the universe - for it had not provided me with the match I was looking for.

So I thought.

I was on the brink of giving up all hope, and allowing the fates to do what they would with me, when one finally caught my eye. He was unique, one that stood out in this horrid age of ill-humored, unhygenic, disinterested people. This man was none of these things. He was entertaining, kind, enraptured by the worlds of history and the future as well. He enjoyed a good story, a good drink, and the comforts of a good life. The only thing he seemed to lack in his life was the one thing I could most easily provide: a witch.

Yes, me! And by the glory of all things, he reached out to me first! I responded to my prey's inquiry as quickly as I dared, not wanting to startle him. To my delight, he seemed enthralled by my strangeness, where others were often intimidated. It was perfect. Two weeks later, as I sat beneath the lunar eclipse early that November, I knew he could be the one I would capture.

I mixed potions, applied glamours, supplemented my usual daily offerings to the divines with additional gifts, and then, when the time was right, I prepared to hit him with the one thing no man can resist: a straightforward conversation about what I was looking for. My charm set, I did my best not to let my nerves get the better of me, and told him (rather bluntly) what I was up to: I told him I was husband hunting.

After that, it was all rather simple work, though exhilarating none the less. We spoke as often as we could - I frequently sacrificed several hours of sleep to stay up talking late into the night with him about any and everything. To my delight, he always brought a smile to my face. He still does that, in fact. And though our first planned meeting was dashed by ill winds, I preservered and did my best to show that I would not let the hands of the fates interfere with my hunt any longer. I was in this for the long-haul, no matter what it brought.

Some months later he suggested that I visit while he had an evening available at the Academy for Peculiar Law Enforcement Wizards (APLEW). It would not be a simple trip, and I would need to spend many hours on my broom, but this was my chance. I put on some of my finest casual robes, applied a glamour of medium strength, and packed up my husband-grabbers (a pair of antique ice-tongs, with just the perfect amount of rust) and set off on my trip.

To my delight, we had a wonderful time. We drank good beer, ate good food, and watched a most delightful documentary that had us both cackling. I never did take out the husband-grabbers, as it was clear that I needed only take hold of his hand for him to be mine.

A few moons later he came to visit me in my tower. By the end of the week we had declared our love for each other and I had agreed to move to his northern fortress. It was a difficult journey (have you ever tried to keep three cats calm on a broom for half a day before?), but as most witches do: I found a way. (Not without significant help from others, mind you.)

The winter passed, and then the spring that followed. In summer he told me he wanted to take me on a trip to visit his family's holdings - far away places vastly different to those I lived in now or before. I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to gather ingredients which are hard to obtain here in the frozen wilderness, and meeting his family would be an excellent step towards my goal of a successful capture of this man as a husband. I happily agreed, and my friend I tell you: he surprised me.

I had spent MONTHS working up to this point. I even thought I had figured out his plans! And he still managed to completely and totally surprise me. He lured me out into the most beautiful gardens overlooking the mountains in a far-away land called Tennessee, on the outskirts of a village named for Francis Nash (I admit, I know barely a thing about the man). It was such a peaceful afternoon, sunny and warm. He encouraged me to the edge of the balcony and took my hand. Which is a very good thing, as when he dropped to one knee a slight breeze could have pushed me right off it.

The ring, though he was unaware of it, holds stones of protection, stability, and loyalty. I could not have picked a more perfect combination myself. It is every bit as unique as we are, and delicately beautiful - exactly the kind of thing I love.

I still keep my husband-grabbers close by, just in case. I continue to make delicious concoctions in the kitchen (which also serves as my alchemical laboratory, for now, until a new witch hut is built for me on our land). And I do my very best to make sure he knows how much I cherish and adore him. We have agreed that the husband-grabbers will be passed down to any daughters we may one day have. Clearly they worked for me, and I hope they will work for them too.

And that is how our story begins. With hope, fate, and just a touch of magic.

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