My thanks to everyone following this story, particularly my reviewers and WellspringCD, my fabulous beta! Posting this a bit off-schedule in honor of the wedding people are so excited about. (My kids' school is having Royal Wedding day tomorrow - my boys are wearing tabards, even if they're not sure why.) Enjoy!
"Leliana, I'm all for a good party, but …" Thora looked at her friend doubtfully.
"When was the last time you went to a party?"
"Um. Well, it was … That is, I'm sure I must have— You know, I can't remember," Thora said.
"All the more reason why we must have a girls' night out," Leliana said firmly. "Let's see, there's you and me and Felsi and Sigrun …"
"Don't forget Captain Maverlies," Thora said.
"Oh, yes." Leliana's eyes twinkled. "We can find out everything we ever wanted to know about what Anders is like in bed. You think he uses magic?"
"Leliana!" Thora said, scandalized. "Isn't Perth enough for you?"
"It is always good to compare notes," Leliana said. "Besides, you must have wondered."
Thora could feel her cheeks heating.
"Ah-ha! You have!" Leliana said, giggling.
"Maybe." Thora shook her head. She remembered Leliana's questions about Alistair's performance during the Blight—somehow the bard had always wormed the details out of her, despite Thora's general reluctance to talk about such things.
"Do we need anyone else?"
"I think that's enough. Let's just leave it at the five of us."
"As you wish, my friend. It's going to be an unforgettable night," Leliana said, fairly bouncing in glee.
Thora groaned. There was no stopping Leliana when she got started—she might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.
"Oghren, I don't know about this," Alistair said with trepidation.
"Trust me, nug-humper. Ol' Oghren's got yer best int'rests at heart. 'Sides, the man's the King o' Orzammar. Won't do to make 'im mad."
Alistair cast a glance at Anders. "Do you know anything about this?"
Anders shrugged, but a grin played at the corners of his mouth. "I just got off a boat," he said. "How am I supposed to know what goes on in Oghren's brain?"
Chortling, Oghren rubbed his hands together. "Got a whole night full o' dwarven celebratin' for you boys," he said.
"Will I still have a kingdom left in the morning?" Alistair asked plaintively, but it had been a losing battle from the start. Whatever Oghren and Gorim had cooked up, it was inescapable. The irony that his stag night was made up of two men who had once been hopelessly in love with his bride-to-be, in addition to Oghren and Perth, wasn't lost on him. But Gorim had been contentedly married for many years, and Anders seemed quite happy with Captain Maverlies … and after all, Alistair himself had been hopelessly in love with his bride-to-be since the day he met her. He couldn't blame the others.
"Let's get movin', then," Oghren said. "Ale's waitin'!"
Thora submitted good-naturedly to the blindfold, feeling Felsi's strong hand on one arm and Sigrun's on the other as they led her to the carriage. Leliana was whispering to Maverlies just in front of them, and Maverlies giggled at something, a sound that did not resolve any of the questions running through Thora's head. She wished she and Alistair had come up with a good way to get out of this whole wedding thing before their friends had gone to all this trouble. Time was running out on their chance to escape—there were only a couple of weeks left before the ceremony was supposed to occur, and so far neither of them had had what could be called a good idea for how to avoid it.
She wasn't familiar enough with Denerim to follow the various twists and turns the carriage took, especially not blindfolded. "How much farther?" she asked, but only giggles answered her.
"You know I live here, right?" Alistair protested, as Oghren handed him a Templar's bucket helmet. "I'll know where you're taking me."
"Put that thing on, you won't be able to hear or see anythin'," Oghren grunted.
"I was hoping to avoid ever having to wear one of these," Alistair said as the helmet slid down over his face. His voice echoed strangely inside it. How in Thedas did Templars manage to capture anything wearing these ridiculous things? He was aware of being led to a carriage of some kind, and of movement, but beyond that, he couldn't tell where he was or where he was going. Vaguely he heard Oghren's guffaws and the more restrained laughter of Anders and Perth, and he tried to resign himself to whatever the surprise would be, to prepare himself for anything from women to goats.
"Are you ready, my friend?"
"Leliana, if you don't get this blindfold off me, I swear …" Thora threatened. Suddenly she felt the pulse in her blood that signaled the presence of other Grey Wardens—not just Sigrun, but … yes, Oghren, and Anders … and the heady thrum that was always and only Alistair. "Leliana?"
The bard giggled, ripping off the blindfold. Thora blinked in the sudden brightness, her eyes adjusting. Alistair stood in front of her, surrounded by the other men, also blinking in confusion. Then his eyes met hers and a grin spread across his face. "Hello, love. Nice to see you here. You're a much better surprise than anything I expected Oghren to come up with."
"You both do me great honor." It was Gorim's voice, which Alistair had clearly expected—but Thora had not. She turned to look at her former Second, now King of Orzammar.
"Gorim, what are you doing here?" She went to him, embracing him with all the affection of their long history together.
"My lady," he said fondly. It was a habit she had never been able to convince him to break. She supposed at least he didn't refer to her as Paragon, which was something. "It was brought to my attention that you and His Majesty," he nodded to Alistair, who murmured his name in yet another fruitless attempt to break Gorim of his warm reserve, "weren't happy about the formal wedding. I was, as you might imagine, terribly surprised."
He smiled at her, and Thora grinned. Even after so many years, Gorim still knew her well.
"Thought we'd do somethin' about it," Oghren said. He raised a mug and clinked it against Leliana's wineglass.
"What, exactly, are we doing, then?" Thora asked suspiciously. Much as she loved her friends, she didn't entirely trust them to be doing the politically correct thing.
"Welcome to your wedding night," Sigrun giggled.
"Well, I like the sound of that," Alistair said huskily. "But, um, don't we have to get married first?"
"That's the plan, my friend," Anders said. He nodded in Gorim's direction. "With some help from your friend over there."
Alistair's head turned slowly toward the mage. "Run that one by me again."
"It is very simple, my dear friends," Leliana said, looking at them both as though they were being incredibly thick-headed. "This is your wedding. Small. Intimate. Personal. Everything you both have wanted."
"But—the Grand Cleric," Thora said. "Don't we need her?"
"What kind of a dwarf are you?" Sigrun asked. "You've got the King of Orzammar right here—you think he can't perform a wedding?"
"How do you all intend to explain this to all the people invited to the actual wedding?" Alistair asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Pretty simple really," Anders said. "We tell them thanks for coming …"
"I explain the ancient dwarven ritual that requires a Paragon's marriage to be a quiet affair, and assure them that I was a witness to the ceremony," Gorim put in.
"Then we show 'em to the ballroom where all the free booze is flowin'," Oghren finished, throwing an arm around Felsi.
Thora's eyes met Alistair's, both wary but amused. Explaining away the private ceremony would be much more fun than organizing and suffering through the public one, his eyes seemed to be saying to her as they warmed and crinkled with the smile spreading across his face.
"I think it's brilliant," he said happily.
There would be complications, Thora was certain of that, but overall it was a dream come true. Except—the smile faded from her face and she shook her head. "Really, this is lovely, but we can't." Her eyes met Alistair, and his smile collapsed as well as he understood her objection.
He turned to Gorim. "You're very generous, but we can't do it this way—Anawyn would never forgive us. Nor would Duncan." There had never been any question of Morrigan, Xandros, and Cybele attending. The child's resemblance to Alistair would have provoked too many questions. But the other children had to be there.
Felsi frowned at them both. "What kind of fools do you think we are?" she demanded. "As though we would have forgotten your children." She opened a door and Jens ushered in Anawyn and Duncan, looking tired but excited. The children rushed at their parents.
"Why didn't you say so?" Thora asked.
"We were saving Anawyn in case you objected and had to be talked into it." Anders grinned at her affectionately. "You get stubborn sometimes."
Thora blushed. Alistair hoisted Duncan up in one arm while Anawyn clung to the other side, and he reached for Thora's hand. "You all seem to have thought of everything."
"Does that mean you'll be getting married now?" Oghren asked. "'Cause we can't drink till ya do."
"Yes. Yes, it does," Alistair said, squeezing his love's hand.
"You're all geniuses," Thora said, smiling at the assembled company—the best people in Thedas, really. "Thank you."
