The party after the wedding was a much more casual affair than the ceremony itself. Neither Ashton nor Nostariel had wanted anything much more complicated than a gathering of their friends and neighbors, and with that considered, Lucienâs offer of the barracks hall had been quite ideal for their purposes. It was also close enough to the Alienage that none of the denizens there need feel particularly uncomfortable about coming, and indeed Nostarielâs side of the inviteesâ list did include a few of those there she knew best, mostly through the clinic.
The furniture in the space had mostly been moved, the doors at the front thrown open so that the considerable space in front of and to the sides of the building could be used as well, and what tables remained were laden with food, spirits, and less-alcoholic beverage choices, for both the younger and more sober elements of the group. The latter included both bride and groom, so that much wasnât surprising. Nostariel had taken the time to change into something less-formal, though it was still a dress, a paler shade of turquoise this time. It had no sleeves, and fell about halfway down her calves in a loose fashion. Much better for the kind of dancing that was likely to occur here.
Her arm was linked through Ashâs, as it had been for the last hour or so. The first part of the whole thing was accepting the congratulations of anyone who came up to offer them, and there were a surprising number of people present to do so. She supposed that must be the result of living so long in one place, one with a population much greater than the average Circle. But that part was winding down at least, as everyone settled into the gathering.
Ashton beamed the entire time, the usual smile somehow seeming even brighter than ever. He shook the hands that were offered, clasped the shoulders of his friends, and even saluted a few of the guardsmen who'd come to wish them congratulations. Vesper even gave them both a hug, which admittedly surprised Ashton at first, though the faint smell of alcohol and the salute afterwards put everything at ease. He couldn't help but laugh.
Eventually, however, they made their way to their seats, Ashton and Nostariel's obviously stationed front and center to everyone else. The food provided was fine, if not extravagant, but then they didn't really expect or particularly wish for extravagant. It was a simple affair, but delicious nonetheless, made by a few of their friends and friends of friends. During the meal, during a lax in the din of conversation, Ashton turned to Rilien with a glass held up, and gestured toward it. "Toast!" he mouthed. Rilien was one of his best friends, after all, and they always did some kind of toast.
... He also had to admit he was curious to see what Rilien would say.
Rilien was familiar with the basic wedding traditions, both the simple ones employed by commoners in places like Kirkwall and the increasingly-elaborate ones demanded for proper marriages between nobility. The variety was rather staggering, but alcohol and speeches seemed to be rather constant themes. Everyone liked to drink, and everyone liked to hear their friends say flattering things about them. Weddings were ample excuse for both.
He was less familiar with being asked to give such speeches himself. Really, it seemed the kind of thing someone with more⊠feelings would have been more appropriate for. He could pretend to infuse emotion into his face or his words, but those who knew him at all would know it for just thatâplayacting. It didnât seem the right thing to do, and yet the only choices that left him were to ignore the request entirely or speak as his very Tranquil self.
If Sparrow had to pick one word to describe how the entire wedding ceremony had gone, it would have clearly been sun. Drapes were thrown wide open, as well as doors. And everyone was smiling. Wide, brimming and overflowing grins all around. She, too, smiled. More of a shit-eating grin. She wandered between groups and had a couple... or, perhaps a few glasses of sweet-wine. Enough to make her belly warm. Conversation flowed easily and she even managed to mingle with some of the guards who'd initially chased her through the streets over the years. Strange how things had changed. And while she still had a few things to say to Rilien about what had occured, it could certainly wait.
In a stranger manner of events, she'd chosen fancier vestments as well. Not quite a dress. She'd chosen soft trousers of equally soft colours and a billowy tunic with the sleeves tied above her elbow. Clothes that Amalia had helped in choosing. Previous garish clothes she'd originally picked had been met with a stern frown and a shake of the head. Admittedly, this was fine too. She squirmed in her seat as Ashton cried for a toast. Her eyes followed his. And Rilien took the mantle, slowly coming to his feet.
It was almost with a shade of reluctance that he stood, drawing attention to himself with a bare modicum of effort. That much, he could reliably do. The rest, well⊠he did know his way around words, when he needed to. He supposed it could not hurt to put an extensive education in stories, poetic verse, and literature to work here. "I understand that at this point in a celebration, those friends of the celebrated are generally given to speeches, toasts extolling the virtues of those recently wed.â His fingers shifted almost idly on the stem of the glass wine goblet he held in his right hand. "Or, if the speaker is more humorously inclined, he might elect to tell a funny story, or perhaps recount some embarrassing anecdote or another.â
A slightly-narrowed gaze fell on Ashton. He certainly had plenty of embarrassing stories about the other man that he could tell, and with the tongue of a bard, he did not suspect it would be difficult to have most of the room in stitches. Rilien might not be humorous in his manner, but he understood comedic timing and deadpan very well, indeed. He let the look linger for just long enough that Ashton would understand what had almost happened, but then moved it back across the room.
The moment was not lost on Ashton, as he turned to Nos and gave her a nervous and weak smile. He was not so curious any more.
"I will do neither of these things. Embarrassing my friend would be far too simple a matter, and he is likely to do it himself before the night is over anyway.â A small pause, for the chuckling to subside, and then Rilien continued. "And I think that perhaps the virtues belonging to both bride and groom are obvious enough that enumerating them would be more crass than informative.â He inclined his head to both of them.
"Instead I will say only the following: the number of people present for this gathering is no accident. I suspect we represent but a fraction of those whose lives you have made better, because of your friendship, your effort, and your sacrifice. You do not come from backgrounds of glory or nobility, and yet if nobility is a concept with any meaning at all, then you have risen to it. It is my hope, and I believe the hope of those present with me, that you continue to improve one anotherâs lives as you have improved your own, and ours. That you, in short, are happy. If it can be deserved, you deserve it.â He raised his glass.
âHear, hear!â Lucien chimed in warmly, raising his in turn. A chorus of clinks and agreements followed.
After the dinner wrapped up, the organization of the event became even looser. A few guests had to say their goodbyes, having ordinary workdays following, but most stuck around, breaking up into smaller groups to linger in the hall or spill outside onto the barracksâ yard. Rilien appeared to have taken the responsibility of providing music away from Amalia for a while, and a few of the Lions with talents in that direction contributed backing to the bardâs lute. After the initial dance, partner or group selection was basically a large, friendly free-for-all, and Nostariel found herself bouncing merrily from one to the next, light on her feet perhaps more due to her mood than any significant uptick in her ability to do any of the steps involved.
Aurora, already on her third glass of wine, found herself tapping her foot along with the music, gently swaying to and fro in tune with the melody. Soon it became not enough, so she stood from her seat and crossed the floor in search of one certain individual. It didn't take long considering who it was she was searching for. "Come on, we shouldn't just be sitting here. It's a wedding!" Aurora beckoned, her hand stretched out for Sparrow to take.
Most unusually, Sparrow had chosen not to drown herself in wine, even if there was some in plenty. Of various flavours, poured from all angles. As soon as Rilien began playing upbeat jigs, people coupled and strayed from their seatsâbecame dancers, all grinning widely, laughing loudly. She leaned forward and watched them twirl and dip and weave around each other, eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a simpering grin. Moments like these were brief respites from everything they'd gone through up until now. As oblivious as she was, it was not lost on her and she, too, felt as if her heard soared and span and danced.
She did drink a couple glasses herself until the familiar bloom of warmth extended from her belly and coloured everything else warm and unworried. A familiar voice broke through her thoughts, accompanied by a sway of hips and fiery hair, and Sparrow's mouth twisted into a wider, mischievous grin. She feigned fanning her face and fluttered her eyelids, as a timid maiden might upon being asked to dance, âI'd be honoured.â Sparrow threw back her head in laughter and took up Aurora's hand, slipping free from the confines of her dreaded chair, âLet's show them how to really dance.â
Much like his newly wedded wife, Ashton bounced from one individual to the next with a smile on his lips and a laugh in his throat. Though unlike her his footwork was a little bit better. It wasn't often that Captain Riviera was able to showcase his dancing abilities, unfortunately, and he enjoyed the opportunities that he got. He even came across Vesper, but the encounter left the tops of his feet sore, though the other guards that attended seemed to fare better on their own feet.
The Lions were also enjoying themselves, this much was clear, though they werenât by any means sticking to their own group. Indeed, people from all kinds of places in the city seemed to mingle freely here, and perhaps it was in this spirit that Ainsley, one of their newer members, approached Amalia, who had until this point been quite content to remain seated and let other people do the dancing.
âYou canât tell me you donât know how to dance,â the former raider said amiably, extending a hand in clear invitation. It was true that dancing definitely wasnât the same as combat footwork, but she doubted that someone with such evident skill at the latter really had no concept of the former. âBut I suppose you could tell me you didnât want to.â The woman shrugged, but her grin belied her words. She was expecting acquiescence.
And, honestly, Amalia saw no reason to decline. Rising, she accepted the hand and let herself be guided over to someplace there was still space. The music was lively, and the dance was one sheâd seen other people doing before. Tilting her head to the side, she studied how others were going about it for a few moments, then slid her way into the sequence. This particular exercise required little actual contact with oneâs partner, but an awareness of their location, else at times one might blindly crash into them, as some of the less coordinated or more intoxicated dancers were already doing.
"Thought I'd find you dancing," Ithilian commented, approaching his Dalish friend near the edge of the yard. Emerion sat on the wooden fence, feet perched on the lowest rung, and worked through more wine. He offered Ithilian a half-smile as he was joined on the fence, swallowing another gulp.
"Someone should be keeping watch over them. Hard to do that from within them all." He glanced sideways, gestured subtly with his head to where a pair of Templars, their faces hidden behind their helmets, passed by the festivities on patrol. They watched with some level interest, but did not slow their walk. Ithilian watched Emerion take another drink.
"Hard to do it while you're drunk, too. But don't worry about the Templars. They'll be no trouble to anyone tonight." Recent events had often taken Ithilian away from the Alienage, but since returning from Prosper's estate in particular he'd noticed a sort of gloominess in Emerion. "Something wrong, lethallin?"
He was silent for a long moment before speaking. "I never thought I'd find you living this way." He turned to look at Ithilian. "Content. Living in one place. Do you know what I mean?" Ithilian took a moment to consider the words, and then nodded his head slowly.
"I think I do. I always wanted too much when I was younger. I was greedy. I was prideful." He looked out at the dancers, watching the new husband and wife among them. "A lot had to happen to change me. I'm thankful the same didn't occur to you."
"I'm not so sure you should be. I think you're better for it, everything that you went through." Emerion took a long drink, finishing his cup. He slipped off the fence and to his feet, patting Ithilian on the shoulder. "I'll be returning to the Alienage. See you tomorrow, Ithilian."
Though a few guests left earlier than the rest, the party itself wound well into the night hours, the last of the guests finally departing the barracks after midnight. Fortunately, most of them had been courteous, which left minimal mess behind when that was all done. Nostariel and Ashton did their part to clear up after the celebration, and, after thanking Lucien once again for the use of his building, they departed, hand in hand, for their new home on the fringe of Lowtown. It wasnât too far from the Hightown steps, something theyâd decided on so that neither of them had to walk too far to reach their place of work.
The walk was a quiet one, the streets mostly deserted at this time of night, and they werenât pestered by any of the cityâs criminal elements, whether because one or both of them were recognized or just because they didnât look to be worth the effort, it was hard to say and didnât much matter. Nostariel swung their arms, interlocked at the hand, between their bodies in a carefree sort of way, the smile sheâd been wearing all through the celebration undimmed by the late hour or quieter surroundings.
âI never thought this day would come.â The confession was quiet, but easily heard given the lack of ambient noise. âEven when we were actually planning it, some part of me just refused to believe it would actually happen.â Perhaps that was why sheâd been on such an even keel throughout the whole process. She looked up at her husband from the corner of her eye, and squeezed his hand. It was a pale indication of the lightness in her heart, but he would understand. His ability to do so was one of the major reasons they were here at all.
âBut Iâm so happy it did.â
The furniture in the space had mostly been moved, the doors at the front thrown open so that the considerable space in front of and to the sides of the building could be used as well, and what tables remained were laden with food, spirits, and less-alcoholic beverage choices, for both the younger and more sober elements of the group. The latter included both bride and groom, so that much wasnât surprising. Nostariel had taken the time to change into something less-formal, though it was still a dress, a paler shade of turquoise this time. It had no sleeves, and fell about halfway down her calves in a loose fashion. Much better for the kind of dancing that was likely to occur here.
Her arm was linked through Ashâs, as it had been for the last hour or so. The first part of the whole thing was accepting the congratulations of anyone who came up to offer them, and there were a surprising number of people present to do so. She supposed that must be the result of living so long in one place, one with a population much greater than the average Circle. But that part was winding down at least, as everyone settled into the gathering.
Ashton beamed the entire time, the usual smile somehow seeming even brighter than ever. He shook the hands that were offered, clasped the shoulders of his friends, and even saluted a few of the guardsmen who'd come to wish them congratulations. Vesper even gave them both a hug, which admittedly surprised Ashton at first, though the faint smell of alcohol and the salute afterwards put everything at ease. He couldn't help but laugh.
Eventually, however, they made their way to their seats, Ashton and Nostariel's obviously stationed front and center to everyone else. The food provided was fine, if not extravagant, but then they didn't really expect or particularly wish for extravagant. It was a simple affair, but delicious nonetheless, made by a few of their friends and friends of friends. During the meal, during a lax in the din of conversation, Ashton turned to Rilien with a glass held up, and gestured toward it. "Toast!" he mouthed. Rilien was one of his best friends, after all, and they always did some kind of toast.
... He also had to admit he was curious to see what Rilien would say.
Rilien was familiar with the basic wedding traditions, both the simple ones employed by commoners in places like Kirkwall and the increasingly-elaborate ones demanded for proper marriages between nobility. The variety was rather staggering, but alcohol and speeches seemed to be rather constant themes. Everyone liked to drink, and everyone liked to hear their friends say flattering things about them. Weddings were ample excuse for both.
He was less familiar with being asked to give such speeches himself. Really, it seemed the kind of thing someone with more⊠feelings would have been more appropriate for. He could pretend to infuse emotion into his face or his words, but those who knew him at all would know it for just thatâplayacting. It didnât seem the right thing to do, and yet the only choices that left him were to ignore the request entirely or speak as his very Tranquil self.
If Sparrow had to pick one word to describe how the entire wedding ceremony had gone, it would have clearly been sun. Drapes were thrown wide open, as well as doors. And everyone was smiling. Wide, brimming and overflowing grins all around. She, too, smiled. More of a shit-eating grin. She wandered between groups and had a couple... or, perhaps a few glasses of sweet-wine. Enough to make her belly warm. Conversation flowed easily and she even managed to mingle with some of the guards who'd initially chased her through the streets over the years. Strange how things had changed. And while she still had a few things to say to Rilien about what had occured, it could certainly wait.
In a stranger manner of events, she'd chosen fancier vestments as well. Not quite a dress. She'd chosen soft trousers of equally soft colours and a billowy tunic with the sleeves tied above her elbow. Clothes that Amalia had helped in choosing. Previous garish clothes she'd originally picked had been met with a stern frown and a shake of the head. Admittedly, this was fine too. She squirmed in her seat as Ashton cried for a toast. Her eyes followed his. And Rilien took the mantle, slowly coming to his feet.
It was almost with a shade of reluctance that he stood, drawing attention to himself with a bare modicum of effort. That much, he could reliably do. The rest, well⊠he did know his way around words, when he needed to. He supposed it could not hurt to put an extensive education in stories, poetic verse, and literature to work here. "I understand that at this point in a celebration, those friends of the celebrated are generally given to speeches, toasts extolling the virtues of those recently wed.â His fingers shifted almost idly on the stem of the glass wine goblet he held in his right hand. "Or, if the speaker is more humorously inclined, he might elect to tell a funny story, or perhaps recount some embarrassing anecdote or another.â
A slightly-narrowed gaze fell on Ashton. He certainly had plenty of embarrassing stories about the other man that he could tell, and with the tongue of a bard, he did not suspect it would be difficult to have most of the room in stitches. Rilien might not be humorous in his manner, but he understood comedic timing and deadpan very well, indeed. He let the look linger for just long enough that Ashton would understand what had almost happened, but then moved it back across the room.
The moment was not lost on Ashton, as he turned to Nos and gave her a nervous and weak smile. He was not so curious any more.
"I will do neither of these things. Embarrassing my friend would be far too simple a matter, and he is likely to do it himself before the night is over anyway.â A small pause, for the chuckling to subside, and then Rilien continued. "And I think that perhaps the virtues belonging to both bride and groom are obvious enough that enumerating them would be more crass than informative.â He inclined his head to both of them.
"Instead I will say only the following: the number of people present for this gathering is no accident. I suspect we represent but a fraction of those whose lives you have made better, because of your friendship, your effort, and your sacrifice. You do not come from backgrounds of glory or nobility, and yet if nobility is a concept with any meaning at all, then you have risen to it. It is my hope, and I believe the hope of those present with me, that you continue to improve one anotherâs lives as you have improved your own, and ours. That you, in short, are happy. If it can be deserved, you deserve it.â He raised his glass.
âHear, hear!â Lucien chimed in warmly, raising his in turn. A chorus of clinks and agreements followed.
After the dinner wrapped up, the organization of the event became even looser. A few guests had to say their goodbyes, having ordinary workdays following, but most stuck around, breaking up into smaller groups to linger in the hall or spill outside onto the barracksâ yard. Rilien appeared to have taken the responsibility of providing music away from Amalia for a while, and a few of the Lions with talents in that direction contributed backing to the bardâs lute. After the initial dance, partner or group selection was basically a large, friendly free-for-all, and Nostariel found herself bouncing merrily from one to the next, light on her feet perhaps more due to her mood than any significant uptick in her ability to do any of the steps involved.
Aurora, already on her third glass of wine, found herself tapping her foot along with the music, gently swaying to and fro in tune with the melody. Soon it became not enough, so she stood from her seat and crossed the floor in search of one certain individual. It didn't take long considering who it was she was searching for. "Come on, we shouldn't just be sitting here. It's a wedding!" Aurora beckoned, her hand stretched out for Sparrow to take.
Most unusually, Sparrow had chosen not to drown herself in wine, even if there was some in plenty. Of various flavours, poured from all angles. As soon as Rilien began playing upbeat jigs, people coupled and strayed from their seatsâbecame dancers, all grinning widely, laughing loudly. She leaned forward and watched them twirl and dip and weave around each other, eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a simpering grin. Moments like these were brief respites from everything they'd gone through up until now. As oblivious as she was, it was not lost on her and she, too, felt as if her heard soared and span and danced.
She did drink a couple glasses herself until the familiar bloom of warmth extended from her belly and coloured everything else warm and unworried. A familiar voice broke through her thoughts, accompanied by a sway of hips and fiery hair, and Sparrow's mouth twisted into a wider, mischievous grin. She feigned fanning her face and fluttered her eyelids, as a timid maiden might upon being asked to dance, âI'd be honoured.â Sparrow threw back her head in laughter and took up Aurora's hand, slipping free from the confines of her dreaded chair, âLet's show them how to really dance.â
Much like his newly wedded wife, Ashton bounced from one individual to the next with a smile on his lips and a laugh in his throat. Though unlike her his footwork was a little bit better. It wasn't often that Captain Riviera was able to showcase his dancing abilities, unfortunately, and he enjoyed the opportunities that he got. He even came across Vesper, but the encounter left the tops of his feet sore, though the other guards that attended seemed to fare better on their own feet.
The Lions were also enjoying themselves, this much was clear, though they werenât by any means sticking to their own group. Indeed, people from all kinds of places in the city seemed to mingle freely here, and perhaps it was in this spirit that Ainsley, one of their newer members, approached Amalia, who had until this point been quite content to remain seated and let other people do the dancing.
âYou canât tell me you donât know how to dance,â the former raider said amiably, extending a hand in clear invitation. It was true that dancing definitely wasnât the same as combat footwork, but she doubted that someone with such evident skill at the latter really had no concept of the former. âBut I suppose you could tell me you didnât want to.â The woman shrugged, but her grin belied her words. She was expecting acquiescence.
And, honestly, Amalia saw no reason to decline. Rising, she accepted the hand and let herself be guided over to someplace there was still space. The music was lively, and the dance was one sheâd seen other people doing before. Tilting her head to the side, she studied how others were going about it for a few moments, then slid her way into the sequence. This particular exercise required little actual contact with oneâs partner, but an awareness of their location, else at times one might blindly crash into them, as some of the less coordinated or more intoxicated dancers were already doing.
"Thought I'd find you dancing," Ithilian commented, approaching his Dalish friend near the edge of the yard. Emerion sat on the wooden fence, feet perched on the lowest rung, and worked through more wine. He offered Ithilian a half-smile as he was joined on the fence, swallowing another gulp.
"Someone should be keeping watch over them. Hard to do that from within them all." He glanced sideways, gestured subtly with his head to where a pair of Templars, their faces hidden behind their helmets, passed by the festivities on patrol. They watched with some level interest, but did not slow their walk. Ithilian watched Emerion take another drink.
"Hard to do it while you're drunk, too. But don't worry about the Templars. They'll be no trouble to anyone tonight." Recent events had often taken Ithilian away from the Alienage, but since returning from Prosper's estate in particular he'd noticed a sort of gloominess in Emerion. "Something wrong, lethallin?"
He was silent for a long moment before speaking. "I never thought I'd find you living this way." He turned to look at Ithilian. "Content. Living in one place. Do you know what I mean?" Ithilian took a moment to consider the words, and then nodded his head slowly.
"I think I do. I always wanted too much when I was younger. I was greedy. I was prideful." He looked out at the dancers, watching the new husband and wife among them. "A lot had to happen to change me. I'm thankful the same didn't occur to you."
"I'm not so sure you should be. I think you're better for it, everything that you went through." Emerion took a long drink, finishing his cup. He slipped off the fence and to his feet, patting Ithilian on the shoulder. "I'll be returning to the Alienage. See you tomorrow, Ithilian."
Though a few guests left earlier than the rest, the party itself wound well into the night hours, the last of the guests finally departing the barracks after midnight. Fortunately, most of them had been courteous, which left minimal mess behind when that was all done. Nostariel and Ashton did their part to clear up after the celebration, and, after thanking Lucien once again for the use of his building, they departed, hand in hand, for their new home on the fringe of Lowtown. It wasnât too far from the Hightown steps, something theyâd decided on so that neither of them had to walk too far to reach their place of work.
The walk was a quiet one, the streets mostly deserted at this time of night, and they werenât pestered by any of the cityâs criminal elements, whether because one or both of them were recognized or just because they didnât look to be worth the effort, it was hard to say and didnât much matter. Nostariel swung their arms, interlocked at the hand, between their bodies in a carefree sort of way, the smile sheâd been wearing all through the celebration undimmed by the late hour or quieter surroundings.
âI never thought this day would come.â The confession was quiet, but easily heard given the lack of ambient noise. âEven when we were actually planning it, some part of me just refused to believe it would actually happen.â Perhaps that was why sheâd been on such an even keel throughout the whole process. She looked up at her husband from the corner of her eye, and squeezed his hand. It was a pale indication of the lightness in her heart, but he would understand. His ability to do so was one of the major reasons they were here at all.
âBut Iâm so happy it did.â