Author's Note:
All Dragon Age 2 characters are copyright (c) BioWare – many thanks to them for creating a complex and engaging fantasy world and allowing me to play in it's sandbox.
Guard Captain, Transform!
"Ugh," Aveline groans, rubbing her temples. "Why does my head hurt so bad?"
"We got attacked last night in Hightown," Hawke replies, pulling the gown over her friend's head. "You passed out,"
"Me?" the Guard Captain exclaims, then winces at the sound of her own voice, which seems a little too loud to her sensitive ears. "I would never just pass out in a fight,"
"Well, you did."
"I should write up a report, nonetheless,"
"Aveline. It's your wedding day."
"Oh, right! Why aren't you wearing the dress I got you?" she asks, squinting at Hawke's floor-length gown of blood-red silk. It fits like a glove and drapes low in the back, specially designed to knock Anders' dirty old socks off. Or so Hawke fully intends.
She smiles. "You changed your mind again. Don't you remember?"
"What in The Void happened last night?"
"You had fun, and we got ambushed by raiders. Nothing out of the ordinary," Hawke finishes lacing up the back of Aveline's gown. Orana hands over a floral headpiece and a couple of pins.
"There!" Hawke finally declares as she turns the bride by the shoulders to face the mirror.
Aveline gasps at her own reflection. It's the first time she's seen herself in her wedding dress: a simple, elegant sheath of emerald green satin that plays off the highlights in her hair and is fitted to hug her every curve before flaring out slightly from the knees to the floor. Her long, copper tresses have been braided behind each ear and the remainder allowed to fall in loose ringlets about her shoulders. In place of her usual headband is a wreath of Ferelden ivy.
If Hawke didn't know any better, she would have sworn it was a painting - not of a hardened warrior, but a beautiful lady, complete with delicate, blushing cheeks and tears beginning to dot her eyelashes. She and Orana smile at each other and stare into the mirror for a few moments, admiring their handiwork.
"Oh!" exclaims Hawke, "I almost forgot," she reaches down and hands the bride the bouquet, tied with a copper ribbon.
"Marigolds?" Aveline asks, eyes growing wide.
"Copper is hard and marigolds are soft," Hawke replies, fighting an increasingly difficult battle with her own urge to smirk.