"I feel like I could burst, I'm so elated." And then in a shocking turn of events, Aleron impulsively leans in to kiss his lovely bride. Because to him, she is the most marvelous of all the Maker's creation. He is never so impulsive, but this is the miracle Bethany has worked: he is more relaxed and at peace than he has ever been. When he does pull away, it's only enough to breathe and finish his thought, "You've brought me more joy than I thought was possible."
He is long past the lingering fear that she would change her mind about him. Further still from the fog of grief that threatened to suffocate his life forever. But for more days than are possible to recount, he truly believed that the best he could ever hope for was a sense of numbness to dull the pain he's carried alone. Bethany has erased that blur of a half-life and restored to him a sense of meaning and purpose.
Such thoughts are not on his mind, however. Rather, his mind is absorbed with drinking in the pleasure of a private moment with his beautiful bride in a moonlit garden. The evening air is cooling but still thick with floral scents, crickets chirrup from under the grasses, this is magical. And it makes the prospect of their eventual retirement to Orlais not such a burden of a prospect after all. This sort of tranquility can be their every night if they wish it.
Right now, Aleron is drunk on happiness and love. It suits him well, dwelling on hope for their future. "I adore you, Bethany."
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He is long past the lingering fear that she would change her mind about him. Further still from the fog of grief that threatened to suffocate his life forever. But for more days than are possible to recount, he truly believed that the best he could ever hope for was a sense of numbness to dull the pain he's carried alone. Bethany has erased that blur of a half-life and restored to him a sense of meaning and purpose.
Such thoughts are not on his mind, however. Rather, his mind is absorbed with drinking in the pleasure of a private moment with his beautiful bride in a moonlit garden. The evening air is cooling but still thick with floral scents, crickets chirrup from under the grasses, this is magical. And it makes the prospect of their eventual retirement to Orlais not such a burden of a prospect after all. This sort of tranquility can be their every night if they wish it.
Right now, Aleron is drunk on happiness and love. It suits him well, dwelling on hope for their future. "I adore you, Bethany."