faderift | Swing Me On Your Trapeze

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Swing Me On Your Trapeze

WHO: Friends of Nathaniel Howe and Anders.
WHAT: An informal Wintersend wedding
WHEN: Wintersend Day
WHERE: Camp Shady
NOTES: Open invitation to all Wardens and anyone who considers themselves a close enough friend of one of the grooms. We're not policing the invite list.

There's scarcely an announcement, though the men have had their minds made up for a while. It's assuredly not formal, invitation spread only by word of mouth. It is, due to the people involved, tactfully swept into Wintersend where it will be camouflaged by a number of other Wintersend celebrations.

No it's not a surprise. No it doesn't really make sense. But Anders and Nathaniel are getting married anyway.

Decorations are simple, mainly winter flowers and evergreen, whatever is colorful at this altitude. Those same winter flowers are made into crowns for the grooms, which is a tradition from the Anderfels. Nathaniel wears his dress uniform, a tradition everywhere. Anders wears a striking set of blue robes to match, though mages have no marriage traditions. Miraculously, a priest has agreed to perform the ceremony. She is content not to make this more or less than what it is: a celebration of the love of two people.

Vows are spoken, the ceremony kept short, and soon enough the grooms take hands and jump over a broom together--a tradition from Amaranthine which puzzles people to this day. And so they are now married, and the party can begin.

The party has simple but abundant fare--mostly meat and bread and plenty to drink, none of it nonalcoholic. There are fires and torches and lanterns casting their warm glow. A couple of Wardens provide the music for dancing on drum and fiddle. Anyone who pleases (Kaisa) is welcome to stand (if they still can) (Kaisa) and propose a toast to the husbands, to the Maker, to the Grey Wardens, to their right buttcheek that's gone numb from sitting (Kaisa), anything they wish. The drunker people get, the funnier everything is. No fighting is allowed, however (Kaisa).

Tonight, the moon is high and the stars are bright and the music is merry. It's easy to forget, for a short time, that the world is in such peril. It's easy to believe all will be well when you're celebrating a wedding.

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During the ceremony itself, Aleron took a quiet pleasure in having custody of Bethany's hand and even returned her unseen squeezes. All done covertly, of course. From time to time, he allowed himself the small indulgence of watching her and her reactions rather than the ritual itself. He finds her ease of wearing her heart on her face and in her eyes endearing, especially as expressing emotion of his own is so seldom and so difficult. Thus he finds contentment in her felicity and light.

It is the balancing contrast between them that reassures him that what he intends to do tonight is absolutely right.

Well into the night, while many are already far into their cups and Bethany is taking a breather from dancing, he steps over and takes hold of her hand on his own. Determination is making him bold with his open show of affection.

"Would you care to take a stroll around the perimeter of the party?"

Aleron is always there, the serious moon to her sunny day disposition, and she's grateful for him. Whenever she feels she is about to float away, he's there to steady her, to bring her into balance in the world around her. He is there with the hand to squeeze, he is there with the quiet smile and the strong arms while she pulls him out to dance.

They are two halves, and she knows that is why she has made the right decision in accepting his courtship, his heart, and was wise to offer hers in turn.

So when she is sipping her mead, humming along with the music, when he takes her hand she is surprised. He isn't usually so open, especially when they are just out amongst their friends. A pleased smile tips over her rosy cheeks at his suggestion - of course he noticed how overheated she had become.

"I would be delighted." She puts her wooden mug down, and squeezes his hand again. "Lead the way."

As they slip away into the darker edges of the party, Aleron starts to ruminate on the simple but pleasing way that their hands seem to fit together perfectly. A quiet sign of how Bethany has filled in places missing in his life, little realizing that it's possible he actually does the same for her. Deep down, he still desperately fears he doesn't deserve the happiness she's brought into his life, but selfishly ignores that nagging fear in a determination to bask in her affections instead.

For a brief moment, he lifts her hand and places a chaste kiss on the back of it. He struggles with expressing his feelings, (or even allowing himself to have them most of the time) and frequently refrains from open shows of a physical display out a deeply seated respect for her. However, now seems the time to at least relax on his strict self-restraint and sense of discipline. They're alone, mostly, and hopefully about to be affianced.

That thought startles a smile from him and causes him to stop and turn to look right at Bethany. Her eyes are still sparkling from dancing and perhaps a touch from her mead. His free hand strays up to stroke her warm, flushed cheek, without him even thinking of it. It feels natural and right to do so.

"You're beautiful tonight, you know."

She is flying tonight, buoyed by good feelings and that rare bubble called hope. It is a hope that they can get through this, that things can be better and better. Then Aleron is holding her hand and she is brought back to the here and now, the party sounds and the press of him arm against hers. She looked up at him, feeling that happiness become focused on one man, who always made sure she was known - here and now - to him.

That kiss surprises her - he usually keeps such moments for when they are completely alone - but it makes it more special. That he wants to show how he feels in that small way, was more than all the poetry in the world.

Ah, he was smiling. She wasn't sure about, just that smile was more dear to her than anything else. She met his gaze, a flash of warmth flowing from his words and she smiled in turn, a quiet and soft one.

"So are you."

She paused, then laughed a little, leaning into his hand. "Oh, that sounds so silly ... but it is true." She cupped hand around the one touching her cheek, her smile tipping up a little. "You're the most beautiful man I know."

Well that just settles it. Bethany really is the sweetest, most precious person to walk the face of Thedas. Somehow she's managing to coax even more smile, even a brief chuckle, out of the e'er stoic Seeker.

"Well, they did say Ravonild and I were a matched pair as children." And Maker knows his sister's turned out to be far more gorgeous than any one woman really should be; it's trouble and a half. But Aleron shakes his head to clear that thought away. Even in a jest, she has a way of souring things and he doesn't want that. Not tonight. Not ever again, really. "Forget about her. I'd rather devote all my thought to you."

Without thinking of the potential for an audience, he leans in to kiss Bethany's forehead then rests his own against hers. "I do, you realize. Think about you, that is. Constantly." In fact, he finds thoughts of her smiles and her dimples creeping in at times he should not be indulging in them, such as during vespers. Everything about his beloved is wildly distracting and less and less is he inclined to reign in his attention.

Ah-hah, she saw that. He smiled more, and laughed, and if she has no other accomplishments to her name, let that be one of them. That she can get Aleron Darton, one of the most serious men in all of Thedas, to laugh.

She dimples at him, before she states quite, quite seriously, "Well, clearly you are the better looking of the pair, just as I am. And yes, please do devote yourself to me..."

Her teasing trailed off as he kissed her forehead, and she flushed, but this time it was all him - no drink, no dancing. His words only deepened it, and she closes her eyes, breathing in sharply, before only murmuring his name softly, "Aleron..."

The sound of his name coming from her is possibly the sweetest he's ever heard. It even trumps hearing the Chant sung in its entirety at the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux as he did as a youth. There's something special that transcends words in just how good she is and the effect just one spoken word can produce.

"I love you, Bethany."

No hesitation or shame in that admission, no matter how much Mama had implored him otherwise. His heart had long since been given into the care of this gentle, loving woman and he no longer has any fears of her refusing it.

"I think about you constantly. Us. Where we'll live, what we'll do. What I could possibly do to give you even a fraction of the joy you've returned to me. I can't imagine my life without you in it now. And I don't want to." Maybe that's selfish of him, but he's greedy for the completion and wholeness that she's brought into his life. There's no more gnawing sense of emptiness and being alone anymore, and it's all the work of one beautiful ray of sunshine wrapped up in warm eyes and soft dimples. "Marry me?"

Which was not the speech he'd rehearsed in his head a dozen times or the delivery he'd intended for possibly the most important question he'd ever ask in his life, but... He's been fumbling his way through how to conduct a proper courtship until now, it's only mete that he continue fumbling through a proposal as well.

She tips her head up as he says that, so she is looking into those blue eyes of his, cobalt with shades of grey when he was in a pensive mood. Now though, they looked like lyrium in the dark, bright and glowing with ... yes, love.

Her breath caught, and she held it. He loves me! Her lip caught between her teeth, but before she could repeat back to him, he kept speaking, and as he did, she could feel her heart start to race. Her breath came out of her in a rush, as she answered him almost a heartbeat after he asked, "Yes! Maker, yes!"

She let out a sob, surprised herself as her brown eyes filled with water, but she didn't care. Didn't care who watched, didn't care if it was recklessly inappropriate for a Warden to take her Seeker lover's face in her hands and kiss him breathless.

He loved her.

She loved him.

They were going to get married.

For this one moment, perhaps for more moments to come, she would brave anything to stand by this man.

A cheer rises from a nearby group of tipsy Wardens, who raise bottles and glasses and hats. There's a scattering of applause.

She said yes. She said yes! Joy and relief compete for dominance in his mind. Only in the back, however, because her kisses do leave him breathless and he quite enjoys them. For once in his life, Aleron doesn't care who's watching to approve or disapprove of his behavior. Nor does he truly register the cheers coming from the Wardens. Not even the one drunken bellow, 'It's about ruddy time!' At the moment the only two people in the world who exist is himself and this amazing woman he's still not wholly convinced he deserves.

But oh how he means to strive the rest of his life to be worthy of her.

His arms snake around Bethany's waist to hold her close as possible, propriety be damned. They're to be married and all things are allowed. Including public kisses. When air becomes an absolute necessity, he only pulls back enough to grab one breath, place an adoring peck on the tip of her adorable nose, then rest his forehead against hers. (Easy access for more snogging, you understand.)

"Thank the Maker. I half-worried you might say no."

In normal circumstances, she might have flushed at that arm around her waist, snugging him up against his nicely formed and properly uniformed frame. Yet, they were engaged now, and it was an absolute relief to get these particular constraints ... well, past constraining. She rested her hands against his chest, dimpling as they leaned their foreheads together.

He looked absolutely gorgeous, flushed, pleased, his blue eyes brighter than he had ever seen them. Beyond that though, he looks almost fiercely possessive of what they have together, and that fills her with ... calm. He would not let her go easily, not now and not ever.

"Then you are a very silly man, as I am absolutely mad for you." Was her teasing reply.

They're mutually mad about each other, but Aleron is not entirely unaware that his mother comes on strong like a herd of stampeding druffalo. Much of his worry came in the form that Bethany would decide that his family was too much to stomach. In addition to that little sliver of self-depreciation where he does not consider himself all that desirable a potential spouse. He knows that he comes with a lot of baggage and not a lot in the way of practical commodities to make up for it.

However, he's refusing to dwell on such sombre thoughts tonight. The woman he loves (had he ever thought he could again?) is here in his arms and just agreed to become his wife. Nothing could possibly be better. Even her teasing reply simply draws another smile out of him.

"I adore you." Punctuated with another long kiss. Only when he pulls back does Aleron bother continuing. "And I mean to make you happy the rest of your days."

Well... no one exactly said he was the most adept at romantic speeches. Love him anyway, sweetheart?

One of these days, Aleron, one of these days, Bethany is going to make you sit down with the Kirkwall crew, along with Marian and Carver. Then you will see what sort of 'overwhelming' Bethany has been dealing with her entire life. Beyond that, for all that baggage? He still loves her for all her own baggage - how can she not love him for surviving his own?

Oh, look at that. Everything is worth it just to get him to smile. She dimples in turn, flushed and pleased, before she tips herself into that kiss wholeheartedly.

"Now that's a wedding vow I can get behind - as long as I can make you happy for the rest of yours." She kissed him once more.

She will always, always love him. He sealed that a long time ago.

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Swing Me On Your Trapeze

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