Written from an imagineyourotp prompt/post on Tumblr to imagine your OTP planning their wedding. As always, playing in Bioware's sandbox.
"I don't care that Alistair's king. I don't care that I'm to be queen. I will not allow such a large ball to be thrown in celebration of our wedding."
Valena pinched the bridge of her nose as she prayed to Andraste for patience. She didn't regret for a moment following Lady Elissa to Denerim when asked, even if it had meant leaving Redcliffe and her father. But her mistress had become even more stubborn than usual since the date of her wedding to the king had been publically announced, and quite frankly Valena was tired of the fits.
"My lady, it is customary that—"
"Sod custom, Valena!" Elissa crossed her parlor and pulled the curtains as wide as she could and pointed. "There are still people without homes out there, people who are starving. Unless you can find the resources to provide a feast and a roof for each and every one of them to match the feast that the nobles will be enjoying, I refuse to hear another word about a royal reception."
That was the worst part of all of this, Valena realized; if Elissa had been throwing a tantrum for the sake of a tantrum, she could probably be talked into properly observing custom eventually. But while reconstruction had been going well, there were large portions of the city yet to be rebuilt, and her soon-to-be-Majesty's observance to duty demanded that her people be cared for before she accepted specific luxuries for herself.
"You are still going to allow for a proper ceremony at least, I'd hope?" Valena demanded. "In the chantry, presided over by the Grand Cleric, and wearing a proper gown instead of your armor?"
Elissa pretended to sigh dramatically, and Valena silently sighed in relief herself. Such an attitude from her ladyship typically meant she was willing to concede to at least one point being argued. "Alistair still gets to wear his armor, you know," Elissa pouted, and Valena couldn't help but to smile.
"Yes, my lady, but he's the king. It's custom for the king to wear the royal arms for such events. Just as it's customary for the bride to wear a proper gown."
"You have a suitable dress maker in mind, I hope?"
"I've chosen three, actually," the blonde girl informed her. "I thought you'd rather like to speak with each of them regarding designs before making a final selection. Now then, about the banquet…"
The Warden's face darkened all over again. "I thought I told you, Valena, no royal banquets."
"I didn't say royal this time, my lady, only said banquet. Or were you planning on denying your family and friends a private celebration for you as well?"
"I… Andraste's ass," Elissa swore. Of course the others would insist on at least a private dinner. Eyes widening in realization, she spun on her heel to face Valena again. "Tell me you haven't spoken to Fergus or anyone else about this yet, Valena!"
The maid's expression was all innocence—and all of it false. "Why, of course not, milady! That said I don't believe I can say as much about his majesty. He and your brother have become quite close friends, you know."
"Valena, tell me that you did not go through Alistair about all of this already!"
Grinning, the girl dodged out of the way as Elissa stormed toward her. "His majesty agreed that you'd likely not agree to a customary celebration, but he feels quite strongly about there being a more intimate gathering among friends."
"I have to speak to his majesty," she hissed on her way out to the corridor so she could confront Alistair.
Valena followed her into the hall to call after her, "And I'll have the dressmakers here at three past noon, milady!"