faderift | [closed]

WHO: Lexie, Adrasteia, Wysteria
WHAT: Wedding planning
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Hightown, Kirkwall
NOTES: n/a

[The light in the music room of the Asgard Estate is particularly lovely at this time in the afternoon, and there are only so many hours in the day in which someone can be expected to entertain around something so pedestrian as a table, so today a great assortment of pretty little cakes and the excellent bottle of wine fetched up from the cellar has been posted on the sideboard so as not to be in the way should--in the excitement of wedding planning--anyone feel compelled to flop across a settee or the pianoforte bench they might do so comfortably without first removing themselves from the party planning committee around a tea table.

Wysteria is, in fact, seated at the keys of the pianoforte and finds herself in such a good humor that she's taken up plunking away at the keys despite having no playing skill whatsoever. A glass of wine is balanced on the instrument top, and they have only just turned away from loudly gossiping about the recent visit of Sensechal Bran Cavin ("I imagined him taller somehow.") and Guard Captain Hendyr ("How fantastic that a woman runs the city guard! I'd no idea!") to the Gallows toward more pressing subjects:]

In any case, as I told Adrasteia I shouldn't wish to be too particular about any detail. It is all rather short notice. But it would be very charming not to have to sit on the ground, so perhaps it might be arranged to rob the Gallows dining hall of a few tables of its tables and benches.

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[ Adrasteia picks up her clipboard and pen, dabbing the latter into the inkwell before writing:

- Pierre, chef of Madame d'Asgard, requires guest list and what dishes are desired. (may yell, ignore this) ]

Thank you for the warning; it's always a little anxiety-inducing when someone one doesn't know too well begins behaving that way.

[ She smiles at the two of them at the pianoforte. ]

You plan on inviting the entirely of Riftwatch, yes? I'm not sure there's a current list of all parties within the service, but I can look into it, certainly.

Do you have a favorite dish, Wysteria?

Me? Oh, let me think a moment on what sort of Orlesian things I have eaten. Valentine and I have made a great efforts to eat and drink our way through Kirkwall, but he complains continuously when served any dish which is meant to be from there. Not enough salt, this egg is overcooked, so on and so forth.

[Her hands have paused over the keys of the pianoforte, which must be of great relief to the servants hovering just beyond the doorway in the hallway.]

Bouillabaisse is quite good, but rather impractical for the location. Ah! [Is a sudden exclamation of revelation.] Bourguignon. We had an excellent venison bourguignon. Do you suppose your man could manage that, Alexandrie?

But of course! A fine choice for the main. Will you be wishing a full dinner, or somewhat truncated?

[ Adrasteia is still writing. ]

If people are meant to spend the night in the ruins, and the entirety of Riftwatch may attend, I suspect the more food we can provide, the better. Though I don't wish to overtax your cook, Madame.

Let us say a truncated dinner, and perhaps plan for some kind of lovely light breakfast to see everyone back on the road. That seems as if it should satisfy both purposes.

[For a moment, it seems Wysteria might resume her rudimentary playing. Mercifully, she instead diverts her attention to the glass of wine balanced on top of the instrument.]

[ Alexandrie taps the backs of the fingers holding her wine glass as applause. ]

A fine idea. I cannot think of anything more charmingly rustic than a pastry or two warmed by the hearthstones on a spring morning.

[ Does she know what 'rustic' means? ]

So. Some small savouries, a light soup, fish— [ idea! ] You know, if you do not mind further truncation it might be cunningly economical of you to combine the soup and fish courses and have a Bouillabaisse after all!

[ Adrasteia is still writing, don't mind her. ]

If the morning is for pastries and coffee, that can easily be managed without Pierre needing to be on hand; that way he can head home in the evening instead of having to camp with the rest of us, if that's alright?

[From the pianoforte bench, Wysteria mock bows and tips her glass in acknowledgement of Alexandrie's miniature applause. She is a terrible player, she knows, but that somewhat heightens the comedy of it all. How fine it is to have good friends who will indulge your nonsense.]

I think both ideas are excellent ones. We can all have a good laugh about having to make our own breakfasts, and your man Pierre needn't tolerate Riftwatch's bad behavior for more than a few hours. It sounds like an ideal arrangement for all involved.

[Wysteria goes to take a swig from her glass--then pauses.]

Have you both been to many weddings?

A small handful. Two since my joining the Inquisition. I was quite pleased with that of Madame Baudin and, naturally, best pleased with my own.

[ She had, somehow, managed to miss the happy matrimony that rendered Lady Venaras Lady Rutyer. ]

Only my own, I'm afraid to admit. [ She sets her pen down. ] But there's not often much call for a Grey Warden at a wedding.

Your own!

[This is declared with no small measure of delight, her cup of wine hastily remanded to the top of the pianoforte.]

I'd no idea Warden were able to be married! I thought it very much like—like the Chantry, I suppose. You must tell Alexandrie and I ever detail of your wedding. I should dearly like to hear about it. And yours of well of course, Alexandrie. I have only been to the Ambassador's wedding since arriving, and I daresay that I'm guessing it was rather atypical even before we arrived at the kidnapping and the groom being stabbed with a knife.

[ A little cloud flits across the sky of Alexandrie's bright expression, and the healthy wine glass is rather markedly treated to a healthy drink. By the time she's lowered the glass again the cloud is gone, and she's raising her eyebrow with a wryly amused smile. ]

If there have only been the three weddings here, then stabbing being involved is in fact typical.

And your wedding, Warden? Knives or none?

[ Adrasteia blinks rapidly; she may never get over Wysteria's ability to say things that might be otherwise upsetting so... directly and without any obliqueness at all. The Ambassador was stabbed on his wedding day? She wrinkles her nose for a moment before setting it aside. ]

I was married before I was a Warden. [ She smiles a little sadly, and then shakes her head. ] No knives. A bribery, but no knives.

[There is subtext there which might, were they to linger over it, be rather upsetting. And so Wysteria refuses to do so, veering naturally instead toward:]

Bribery! [Her exclamation is all delight. How scandalous!] You must tell us every detail, Warden! I have never heard of such a thing; have you, Alexandrie?

[ Alexandrie had heard of a great number of things in the course of her tenure at court, bribery among them, but as it is far more fun to match Wysteria's excitement than it is to recall any of the less savoury stories she has, she raises her eyebrows with great interest at Adrasteia and moves from her position at the piano to take a closer chair for the story that will presumably unfold. ]

Do tell! Is it romantic bribery, or villainous?

There aren't very many details, I'm afraid. It was very simple, all told.

[ Adrasteia smiles at the memory, folding her hands on top of her clipboard. ]

Something you may not know, Wysteria, is that alienage elves aren't to be married in a Chantry, but instead in a large group wedding that happens every year on Summerday. Summerday was still some time away, and so Helec bribed a Chantry sister to let us in to exchange our vows and rings that evening. It was very small, there were no witnesses save us, but it... it mattered. Quite the gesture, really, but Helec was good in that way. Always making gestures when he could.

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