faderift | [Open] I Look At You

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[Open] I Look At You

WHO: Aleron Darton and Bethany Hawke, Malcolm Reed, Nathaniel Howe, The Grey Warden 2LiveCrew (even you Teren), The Seeker Trio, and YOU.
WHAT: A Noble Wedding Between Two Great Houses.
WHEN: Backdated to the first of Bloomingtide
WHERE: Endridge, outside of Kaiten in the Free Marches.
NOTES: Warnings for Exceeding Sappiness and Happiness. What is that? Why is this in this game? That's just weird.EDIT: I've put in headers if you want to tag under those, but please feel free to put in your own top levels!

It's a far distance to Endridge from most anywhere, situated five miles outside Kaiten. But the destination is well worth the journey. The roads are even and in good repair as they stretch out through gently rolling hills of green. Picturesque. Tranquil. This is precisely what Bethany had wanted for her wedding: somewhere outdoors under the Maker's sky.

The pastoral setting truly is breathtaking for anyone moved by nature. Lush pastures stretch out almost to the horizon, dotted with fleecy ewes and their bouncing new lambs. Gentle breezes dance through the trees, the rustling sending gusts of fruit blossom petals scattering to the winds. Within those branches, twittering birds in joyous song cover the backdrop of baaaaaahs arising from the sheep. Behind the birdsong, the burbling of the creek sings out as it trips along its way to the lake. The warming new summer air coaxes perfumes out of the flowers, filling the air with their mingled scent. Behind the bounteous gifts of nature looms a stone edifice, seat of the Darton family, an imposing but not ungainly castle. The house is the work of the first baron, built to be a stronghold against further Nevarran incursions and a sign to legitimize the new title.

Never let it be said that Ravonild does not know how to throw a party. She's graciously offered the house and the grounds for the wedding, but has had her hand in all the preparations. Every inch of the ballroom has been polished and shined. The great hall transformed into a banqueting hall large enough to accommodate the guests, which includes every far-flung Darton relative crawled out of the woodwork. Where she has not worked her magic as a hostess is in the location of the ceremony proper. It is arranged within the formal gardens, which were a gift from Aleron's father to his new bride on her arrival from Orlais. Holding the wedding there, instead of in the wilder walled garden with its riot of variety and colors was a conciliatory gesture to appease Mama for not having the wedding in Orlais. Regardless of the behind-the-scenes bickering beforehand, everything is now the very picture of hospitality and celebration. The music is unending, the wine is free-flowing, and the dancing will last until dawn.

The simplest portion of the wedding is the ceremony itself. The Darton and Hawke coat of arms have been placed on display within the gardens, but that is the extend of excess and showmanship. Nathaniel Howe gives the bride away, Aleron's sisters are the bridal attendants, Malcolm Reed standing guard as a groomsman. In a break from tradition, youngest sister Layla carries a bouquet in one hand and her newborn baby in the other arm. (The tiny one was fussy, you see.) Oh, and yes, the bride's maiden of honor is an elf - but considering it is Merrill of the Champion's Tale? It is given a pass for the excitement of seeing one of Varric Tethras's heroes in the flesh, next to the bride.

Beyond that, it is a traditional ceremony performed by the Revered Mother who blessed all the Darton children as babes. Portions of the Chant are sung. Vows and rings are exchanged. Though behind the flowers Aleron and Bethany are holding hands and making eyes at each other. In fact, it seems miraculous that they're able to respond as required since they appear already lost in each other and not at all attentive to the ritual they are engaged in.

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This is a formal wedding, so of course there is a formal reception line. Feel free to come up and congratulate the bride and groom (who will answer together, of course!).

Please, do help yourself to as much wine as you want, find your place at one of the long tables decorated elegantly (and Bethany won't say a word if you decide to make off with some silverware). Eat, drink, make merry with your fellow guests.

Naturally, there is a ballroom, decked out in the Darton and Hawke colors - Ravonild's idea, of course. It would look garish if not done with such excellent taste. The orchestra is playing the latest in all the dances, per the hostesses's orders. Take a spin, step on some feet, but just have fun.

Not up for this socialization? Looking for a nice quiet corner? Feel free to wander the grounds - they Are gorgeous after all. There are even private little places for, You Know, You Know.

Well we hope you know or the wedding night is going to be very confusing for you.

Have a stroll, a conversation, or a 'private moment'. We won't tell.

Aleron is happy. Actually, the man is deliriously happy, though perhaps it might be hard to tell. He's been smiling all day, but it's his subtle version that is just a fraction above lineface. Fortunately, Bethany is adept at reading his small emotional markers. It's more obvious in the way his eyes watch her wheresoever she goes, how they shine, his relaxed posture. Deliriously happy.

But also painfully overwhelmed. Aleron has never been one for parties, and he has nearly hit his capacity for small talk and just people. Large crowds, huge swaths of distant relatives, the dull roar of voices rising as the wine casks are emptied, he endures these as part and parcel of a celebration which for once in his life is actually about him and his wife. My wife. How sweet those words are to him and he looks down at Bethany again with a swell of pride and adoration.

Out of a rare impulse, he takes hold of Bethany's hand and leans over to whisper in her ear, "Come with me, darling?"

It possibly sounds suggestive, and frankly now they are wed, all things are permitted. But that's not quite what he has in mind. At present. He more wants to sneak away to a remote corner of the walled garden for a few precious moments alone with his beautiful bride. And just a teensy break from having to be social.

The lure of the gardens and the need for a little distance from crowds and music has Inessa wandering away from the heart of the action after a while. That and she's spent entirely too much time away from Garahel, who has been enjoying the company of other mabari while formal affairs took place. More at ease with her canine companion at her side, the slight elven woman is content to wander at a relaxed pace and savor the sights and scents of the area. When her feet start to ache enough, she begins seeking a quiet place to sit for a while.

...at least that's the plan. But what seems like an inviting nook turns out to be very effectively occupied. Quickly averting her gaze, she mumbles an entirely ignored apology and steps away, her cheeks pink. Is it suddenly hot out here?

Edited 2017-05-14 02:17 (UTC)

Inessa is almost apologetic by the she reaches them; they've already greeted so many people and there are yet more behind her. A warm, sympathetic smile curves her lips as she politely bows her head to the radiant newlyweds.

"It was a beautiful ceremony. Congratulations to you both." Her smile is even warmer to her fellow Grey Warden and mage, truly a sign of changing times for their kind.

Bethany is, of course, radiant with happiness so if Aleron only looks mildly above pleased? Bethany is shining bright enough with both of them. Flushed with joy, and a little bit of wine, she turns away from the conversation she is only half listening to at this time towards her husband. My husband, all mine. They've been so overwhelmed with everyone - all the arrangements and all the ridiculous levels of Formality that they barely had a moment alone together since this began.

Except of course when they were up before everyone, but she only counted that in the emotional sense of not seeing anyone but him.

His request makes her tilt her head curiously, but she squeezes her gloved hand around his. "Anywhere."

Dimples appear, and she lets him lead her off - guessing that he just wanted a moment alone.

Bethany turned towards her Warden friend, her eyes bright as she took both of Inessa's hands and squeezed them, "Thank you, so much. I know it was a journey to travel here - especially after coming all the way to Kirkwall ... I'm just so pleased everyone could come."

So many people! It takes all the discipline Aleron can muster not to eye what looks like an eternal line to assess just how long they'll be here. That would be rude. And even if he's feeling overwhelmed by the sheer press of social necessity, he is likewise grateful for the trouble so many have taken to share the day with them.

He politely dips his head and even musters up one of his rare almost-there smiles. All the while, he mentally wonders how his beloved is so good with people. And thank the Maker for her, she'll make up for all his lacking people skills. "Yes, thank you for coming. Since you're here, if you've an interest, a tour of the estate can be arranged."

Lambing season is over, but that just means no risk of testy ewes butting at people getting too close to them. Now it's tiny fuzzies everywhere.

Some may think that all Christine does is work, because she's rarely seen doing anything else. But on occasions such as this, they can witness her doing one of her favorite pastimes: dancing. She adores it. It had been the only part of the very Orlesian education she'd been given in the Circle that she enjoyed. She knows all the popular ballroom dances and glides effortlessly across the floor, agreeing to dance with anyone she finds tolerable.

Her dress is elegant, but it's also the only fancy dress she owns, made for the soiree over a year ago and carefully packed away ever since, until this celebration. With strangers, she keeps the conversation light and focused on the wedding itself; perhaps her work in the Inquisition if they ask. With her friends, she is far more likely to be open and speak about whatever comes to mind. And she hardly takes a break from the dancing either. After giving a curtsy to her last partner, she turns, catches someone's eye, and moves to meet them.

"Are you wanting to dance?"

Honestly, Christine would have stayed on the dance floor all night had she not gotten a blister on her foot that is now causing her pain. It's a simple fix, but not one she's willing to do in front of a group of stuffy nobles -- even if they have been making allowances for mages and other races this evening.

Limping ever so slightly to try and prevent her slipper from rubbing against her blister any more than it has to, she enters the grounds and looks for an out of the way space, preferably with a bench. When she finds such a spot, she seats herself and carefully works off her shoe, lifts the hem of her gown up out of her way, and lays a hand over the wound, eyes suddenly glowing blue in the darkness as she uses magic to heal herself.

It would be a surprising sight to turn the corner now and see two glowing eyes in the dark, wouldn't it?

Christine barely knows Bethany, but it's clear that she makes Aleron happy, and everyone has nothing but good things to say about her as well, so there's no awkwardness as she approaches the bride and groom. They're clearly a happy couple, and on a selfish note, a mage getting married gives Christine hope for her own future as well, Divine-willing.

"Bethany, Aleron," she greets both when it's her turn. "It was a beautiful ceremony. Thank you for inviting me to share in your special day."

A few steps away, Aleron's Mama is giving him the death stare of 'mind your manners, or else.' To Mama, that means everyone who is family, like family, or Orlesian gets greeted en bise.

"Thank you, Christine." That's a smile, honest to the Maker. Well, it's a smile for Aleron. Who, being bullied from a distance, quickly pecks Christine on both cheeks... and sheesh Mama back off already. "I'm delighted you could come. I know it's no small distance."

Before he leads her away, Aleron kisses Bethany's temple. It sets off a group awwwww in their nearby vicinity, but he doesn't mind. That is the extend of the PDA he is comfortable with and it will have to suffice for the voyeuristic romantics in attendance. And if a few of them hold off and then follow behind to be nosy, that's none of his business.

He escorts Bethany to the garden's wooden gate without talking, which isn't so unusual for him. Aleron is marvelously happy to have even that short moment alone with his bride. Her hand is relinquished only long enough to open the gate, and then it's reclaimed quickly. The garden is dark, with only the moon and stars overhead for light. Well no, that's not quite correct. Someone's placed a handful of lanterns on the stone paths. Likely so no one trips and hurts themselves taking a moonlit walk. (Wrong, Ravonild banking on private trysts and helping those along.)

Once truly alone, and ensconced in a private corner near the crystal grace beds, the smile that Aleron's been holding in most of the day breaks free. He loves Bethany so very much, there is no doubt there. But his abilities to actually emote in public are forever stunted. "I wanted some time alone with you." More smile and a confession to go with it. "I am selfish and didn't feel like sharing you for a while."

He might know and even agree that they need to be good and gracious hosts, but that doesn't mean he can't have a selfish moment of wanting his pretty wife all to himself.

Bethany turns, catches Mama's death glower at her son and manages to repress a smile before she is stepping up to press both of Christine's hands in turn.

"Truly, we appreciate you coming all this way. We hope you don't have to hurry back to Kirkwall?" Yes, she is hopeful that Aleron's friends will stay and enjoy the party.

"The journey was easy," she assures him, and then focuses on Bethany, her smile growing at the woman's friendly manner. "Thankfully, I have no pressing duties back there and can stay longer. But when I do return, I will have the memories of this beautiful place to take back with me." Which she will be revisiting often, because she hates Kirkwall. A lot.

"Will you be traveling elsewhere for your honeymoon, or staying here?" she asks, because she can see this place being a wonderful retreat.

Bethany's smile causes more awwws, but she shoos them away with a laugh and a wave of her hand, "Go enjoy the party, you gooses!" It's enough to get them to laughing, turning away to whisper and waggle their eyebrows.

Bethany knows her husband - hers! - too well. No garden trysting for her. If she were to guess, she would say that he just wants a breath of fresh air. It does feel and smell delightful out here - all of Bloomingtide's blossoms all out and thriving. She picks up her gown with one hand, but the other stays in his.

She settles on the marble bench here, folding both of her hands within his, and ah! There was the smile that stole her heart, all that time ago. She squeezes his fingers in hers, before she laughs. "Well, you are allowed to be as selfish as you like. You married me today, after all."

"That would be lovely, thank you. I'll ensure that Garahel is sufficiently engaged elsewhere, so the lambs will not be bothered." The mabari would never mean them harm, but that doesn't mean his big, enthusiastic self wouldn't cause them stress. She would rather avoid that fiasco. "And this was a welcome break, to be honest. The past month was a long one for so many of us on cleanup duty."

His last fancy outfit ended up with some holes, slashes, and blood on it. Orlesians really know how to party (when third parties come crashing). It was a last minute job to pay a skilled seamstress within Skyhold's walls to repair the damage as well as she could, and otherwise? Black hides blood well, what couldn't get taken out. A few alterations had to be made, missing a few key pieces of the outfit for makeshift shields and whatnot, but despite the otherwise imposing black figure Malcolm makes, he was sure to add in a few dashes of colour, to keep things lively.

Let it never be said he has no sense of taste. There's a reason Aleron had his groomsman delegate and debate with the ladies of the family over colours. (And other arrangements. "Ravonild's idea" indeed.)

His part done, Malcolm realizes his part is never really done. He'll assist in keeping the peace as best he can, while also attempting to enjoy himself. Truly, he's ecstatic that Aleron has found someone he is blessedly happy with. For the moment, his eyes are peeled around the dance floor, not looking for a partner but soaking in the atmosphere of merriment. And seeing if the sisters are around, because the last thing anyone needs is an argument in public.

Church wasn't gonna come, because he doesn't know Aleron and he doesn't know Bethany, but Christine was going and asked him to come. Gave him big ol' eyes, too. And the move to Kirkwall just depressed her, so seeing her light up about a wedding?

Yeah, he can put on his shiny duds he hasn't worn in a year or whatever and come party. For her sake. Because seeing her smile is fucking amazing.

Also amazing? This food. If you think Church was going to ignore the food and drink at this shindig, my friend, you were extremely mistaken, because it's good, and it's free for him, and it's a way to not have to mingle and smalltalk with people he's pretty sure his very existence offends. He can't offend anyone if he's stuffing his mouth with food. Unless that offends someone, in which case, they are to feel free to fuck themselves.

Which is to say, he's actually trying not to cause an international incident at a wedding as his not-girlfriend's plus-one.

As far as her social calendar goes, Gwenaëlle has never been enthused about weddings. The ceremony has never inspired her to anything except a headache; better not to get into what the notion of marriage prompts. For more than one occasion, she's ignored invitations, begged off ill, been mysteriously out of the area or flatly declined to attend -

but for Aleron, she makes an appearance. Dutiful throughout the ceremony and dressed finely in the Vauquelin shade of green, she ignores the receiving line - imagines the happy couple will be far too occupied with each other and their guests to notice - and declines all invitations to dance, politely aloof as such occasions invariably find her. She does not make small-talk, nor bother much with anyone's family. It's quite possibly rude to snub the hostess, but somehow she thinks Aleron's sister will survive the slight.

He looks as if he might now survive anything, and it is worth sitting through a hundred weddings to see him so happy.

"There you are," she says, when at last there's a moment of peace in the festivities and she can catch him in the gardens, turning and holding her arms out - to embrace him, of course, but how can there not be shades of each time as a child she would turn in Mirielle's lap and hold her arms out in much the same fashion, expecting to be lifted? "I'm very happy for you, cousin. You look much less dour - I approve. It isn't as I remember you."

Nor as she'd choose to. He deserves a bit of joy.

He is, of course, in line. It's not like he's been to many weddings, or really any before his own. But everyone's gathering here and so he gathers too because it seems like the thing to do.

"Congratulations." His focus is mostly on Bethany, though he glances at Aleron as he says it as well, voice warm. While he has a feeling that very> few here know Bethany is a mage, it's still another mage being married and treated like everyone else. It's good.

Purrelden mews from his shoulder, determined to say something too, and Anders' smile grows. "She agrees."

"Oh, you must see the sheep, they are absolutely adorable. I'm tempted to bring one home with me." Bethany dimpled, before her eyes flashed humor, "If the poor thing wouldn't become mutton stew the next day."

Ah, Kirkwall.

"How are things going? Have you all gotten our supplies?"

Bethany's smile is a broad one, and she Just Manages not to call out his name in the middle of all these guests. Still, she goes to press a kiss to both of his cheeks, and then give a rub of the nose to Purrelden, her eyes warm and her smile brilliant.

"Congratulations to us both." Is her firm statement, and she too knows how important this. One step forward, day by day.

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Page 1 of 5

[Open] I Look At You

Greet The Bride and Groom

The Reception

Dancing

Wandering About

well, you know...

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Christine

Christine

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for aleron.

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