The wind is us- it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.

- Truman Capote

Aveline generally hated having her hair done. In fact, if she was remembering correctly, the last time she'd had someone play with it was at her first wedding.

Leandra, however, had a gentle hand, gathering her hair up and pinning white flowers amongst the red. "You have such pretty hair, Aveline," Leandra said, smiling at her in the mirror.

"Other children used to laugh at me for having ginger hair." She'd had a similar conversation with Isabela. Remembering it made her scowl.

"No frowning on this day," Leandra chided.

"I think I might have been insane when I invited Isabela."

Leandra laughed. "Alessa said she promised to be on her best behavior."

"That doesn't mean much. Where is she, anyway?"

"Alessa? Probably bullying Bodhan or the people working on the gardens. She's a proper tyrant when it comes to organizing things."

"Who did she get that from, I wonder?"

Leandra's lips twitched. "Must have been her father." She secured the last flower and stepped back. "Stand up and let's have a look."

Aveline stood, brushing down the skirt of her dress. It was a simple gown of ivory satin, the skirt edged with Antivan lace that whispered softly every time she moved. More lace sheathed her arms, the sleeves coming to points at the back of her hands. She looked in the mirror and indulged herself a bit, turning her head from side to side to admire the way Leandra had pinned the flowers up. "Thank you, Leandra. For all of it. Hosting a wedding is a great deal of trouble…"

"Nonsense, Aveline. It's our pleasure. Besides, this is probably the only chance I'll get to fuss over bride like that. Bethany is in the Circle and Alessa…well…"

Aveline chuckled. "You'd have to find a man who can keep up with her first." Who isn't a bitter escaped slave.

"Seneschal Bran's son is her age and he's looking for a wife." Leandra didn't sound like she had any real hope for that and with good reason. That boy was as arrogant as his father and she wasn't certain an actual thought had ever crossed his mind.

As if summoned, a tap came on the door and Hawke came in. She was dressed in deep red, her sleek black hair held up with silver combs. She stopped in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh, Aveline, you look beautiful!"

Aveline flushed a bit, brushing self consciously at her skirt again. "Thank you, Hawke. I don't dress up often."

"Donnic's jaw is going to hit the floor when he gets a look at you." Hawke looked at her mother and held up a black box.

Leandra nodded and took it, handing it to Aveline. "We wanted to give it to you before the wedding in case you wanted to wear it."

Aveline opened the box and stared. A thumb sized emerald set in a silver design was nestled in the box, strung on a choker of black velvet. "Oh, Maker…"

"You told me green was your favorite color," Hawke said, twisting her fingers together in front of her.

Leandra was smiling at her. "It's one of the pieces we found in the vault. A gift from our family to a truly admirable woman. I hope you'll accept it."

"And family in every way that counts," Hawke added.

"You're the only real family I've had for a long while," Aveline said quietly. "Thank you…"

She drew the necklace out and Hawke moved around her to tie it at the back. The emerald rested neatly in the hollow of her throat. Hawke rested a hand on her shoulder. "There now, let's hope Donnic isn't so distracted that he forgets his vows."

Donnic did nothing of the sort, although Aveline would remember the look in his eyes when he saw her for the rest of her life.

Leandra had offered them the use of the family's small chapel in the back of the estate, but they had decided to hold the ceremony in the garden instead. Aveline had always liked it, even more so with the changes Hawke had made. She'd had the formal fountain pulled out and installed one of natural stone, more like a waterfall. The garden itself was a mixture of wild flowers and more traditional garden flowers, and with spring well on its way, many of them were blooming. There was also plenty of room for the guardsmen standing at respectful attention for their commander, as well as her friends and Donnic's family.

Leandra and Hawke stood off to the side. Varric was standing next to Hawke and Aveline swore she saw tears in his eyes. Merrill was sitting crosslegged amongst a patch of wild flowers, her hands clasped in front of her, grinning in delight. She wasn't even trying to hide her tears. Isabela was leaning against the side of the house, smirking but keeping her peace. She'd even put on a dress for the occasion. Dark blue with slits in the side of the skirt clear up to her hips, which was modest for Isabela.

Donnic's hands were warm in hers and his dark eyes locked with hers as they took their vows. When they were pronounced man and wife, the garden erupted with cheers. Donnic drew her close and kissed her slowly. Aveline let herself drift on the sensation. A feeling of vast contentment filled her as she leaned back and smiled at her husband.

For all the troubles around them, Aveline looked over at Leandra and Hawke, felt Donnic's hand in hers and felt truly at home in Kirkwall for the first time.

The ladies of the de Launcet household would have found the party to be terribly gauche. Certainly, the Guard Captain was well known and respected, but her wedding was hardly the event of the season. Yet the street in front of the Hawke estate was unusually busy that day. Nobles from the other side of the city were strolling by with exaggerated casualness. The City of Chains had seen a great many strange things throughout the course of its history but it was a safe bet this was a gathering with sights no one had seen before…

"Theta carved them all. And installed them for us. Theta can do anything, I'm sure you've noticed that. That one is Finnagin." Hawke pointed to the hawk sculpture that decorated the corner of the house. "No, wait, Finnagin is on the other side of the house. That's Messier Pointy Face. Give Merrill credit for coming up with creative names."

Saemus snickered and took a sip of wine. "Does Theta know she's named all of them?"

"No, and my mother doesn't know she and Sandal like swinging on the chandelier in the main hall either." She paused. "Please don't mention that to her."

"I can promise not to say a word to your mother. Theta, on the other hand…" He pointed to where Merrill was enthusiastically talking to the kossith woman, making extravagant hand gestures and motioning toward the stone hawks. Merrill had a glass of sparkling wine in one hand and a handful of cookies in the other. Theta looked like she was struggling between amusement and horror. "Ah, well. It might put a dent in Theta's pride, but the hawks are made of stone. They won't care. Kind of like you and noble opinions."

She scowled at the leading statement. "I said no."

"Please, Hawke?" Saemus tried his best charming smile.

"Turning on the charm doesn't work with me, Saemus."

"Consider it a duty to Kirkwall. Follow my logic here…"

She narrowed her eyes at him. Saemus persisted. "I get in trouble when I'm bored at parties like that. If you're with me, I won't be bored because I'll have you to talk to. So I won't get in trouble or offend anyone, which is good for Kirkwall!"

"You want me to go because Lady Mallen hates me and you know perfectly well the evening will probably end with a fight."

"That thought never even crossed my mind."

"Liar."

"If you say you'll come with me, I'll quit bothering you about it."

"If I throw you in the fountain, you'll quit bothering me about it."

"You're not going to do anything that'll spoil this day," he said quite confidently.

"I'll drag you back tomorrow and throw you in."

"Come with me for the sake of friendship, then."

"I don't like you that much."

"Yes, you do."

She huffed out a laugh and Saemus thought he saw her softening a bit. Maker, he hoped so. The idea of spending the evening with the seneschal on one side and Lady Mallen on the other was just depressing. "Think about it?" he wheedled. That was a step up from flat out refusal; he'd consider it a victory for this day.

Hawke sighed and shook her head. "Fine…but if I go and end up insulting more people than you would have, it's on your head."

That was the exact reason he was hoping she would go. It would be so much fun to watch. "I'll take the risk."

Leandra accepted a glass of sparkling wine from Corff with a smile. "This is a familiar scene. Except, knowing Father, we're probably paying you better."

Corff had to laugh. "Your father was quite generous, my lady."

"You can call me by my name, Corff, you're not a servant here anymore," she said, her tone gently teasing. "You're a respected businessman, in fact."

Corff blushed a bit and busied himself with filling glasses and handing some to Orana when she walked up. "I imagine there's not a lot of respect for The Hanged Man in Hightown."

"And yet your liquor is a lot better than most of the bars and clubs in Hightown and that's a simple fact." Maecon the guardsman came up to get a mug of ale, tipping it toward Corff in a salute.

"That's true enough," Leandra said thoughtfully. She grinned at their looks. "Not that I would know."

"Not to mention the entertainment is better," Maecon said. "Maybe Brennan will recite some more poetry today, eh, Corff?"

The bartender winced. "Let's see if we can get Orana to play instead."

"Did she go down to play for you? Good, I was hoping she'd start going out a bit. She's so much less jumpy than she used to be." Leandra beamed at the young elf. Orana was currently working for them but Leandra had hopes she might find something else she wanted to do.

She also wondered how long it would take Alessa's friend Zek to quit making puppy eyes at her and make a move.

"So." Varric made a grand gesture as he faced his audience. "So then, Hawke kicks open the door and she…"

"Broke my foot?" Hawke interrupted, wandering up. She had a bottle of sparkling wine in her hands and topped off everyone's glasses. Donnic chuckled and Aveline rolled her eyes.

Varric scowled at Hawke, who batted her eyelashes at him. "What? It was a heavy door."

"Say it was Aveline who busted it down all dramatically. People will believe that," Isabela suggested. She'd lowered her liquor standards to sparkling wine in order to give them a proper toast.

"Shut up, whore," Aveline said without any real rancor.

Isabela pouted. "Aww, and here I got this nice dress just for you."

"That's my dress," Hawke pointed out.

"Where I got it is beside the point."

"How'd you even stuff yourself inside it?" That was a valid question. Isabela was at least two inches taller than Hawke was and her curves were a great deal more substantial.

"She didn't, she's bursting at the seams, see?" Aveline said. Laughter erupted all around them.

Which, of course, only encouraged Isabela. She stepped forward and raised her glass of sparkling wine. "A toast to the newlyweds!"

"Uh oh…" Varric muttered.

"I'd like to wish Donnic the best of luck not ending up with a broken back on the wedding night!"

Donnic sighed.

"And Aveline, may your new husband curl your toes."

"Isabela." Aveline's growl would have done a mabari proud.

"Float your frigate."

"Isabela."

"Dwarf your beard. Grey your warden. Pudding your peach. Shank your Jory. Arl your Eamon."

"What in the void is that supposed to mean?" Hawke's voice was choked and Varric had to turn away, reminding himself a good laugh wasn't worth the pain of a good solid punch.

Isabela ignored her. "Or how about 'satisfy the demand of your Qun'? Cup your Joining? Master your taint? That's an old one."

Saemus Dumar, standing between Varric and Hawke, had gone an interesting shade of red. Muffled chuckles were echoing through the garden. Theta had two fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose and was shaking her head slowly. Leandra Hawke was holding a glass in one hand looking like she was giving some serious consideration to lobbing it at the pirate's head.

Aveline, surprisingly, was simply watching her with narrowed eyes. She raised an eyebrow. "Got it out of your system?"

Merrill's head had been bobbing back and forth like an owl's as she looked between the two women. "Got what out of her system? The taint? Didn't you say something about the joining, that's a Grey Warden thing, isn't it? Are you a Grey Warden, Isabela?"

That broke everyone. Merrill looked around as laughter exploded around her, utterly confused. "What?"

"Oh, Merrill." Isabela threw an arm around her shoulders and steering her away…conveniently putting some distance between her and Aveline. "Let's get a drink."

"I wish Bethany could be here," Hawke said quietly. Leandra slid an arm around her daughter's waist and watched as people whirled around the space they had cleared for dancing. Donnic and Aveline were in the center of it all, their eyes on each other. Varric was doing some kind of comically fussy dance, holding onto Theta's hand. The kossith woman was laughing, a carefree sound that was rare from her and lifted Hawke's heart.

"I know," Leandra said quietly. "Since Ser Royce was going to be here, I thought I might be able to make a case about her attending for a few hours." She nodded to the Orlesian templar where he was chatting with a couple of the guardsmen. An easygoing man, he'd been sent along to keep control of Zek when they'd come to Kirkwall. According to Zek, it was supposed to be a punishment and Royce had decided not to let anyone know how much he was enjoying it. "The Knight Commander wouldn't even consider it."

"Shocking." Alessa's voice was dry.

The two women stood and watched the dancers silently for a bit. Leandra spoke abruptly: "Donnic had every right to invite Fenris if he wanted, it's his wedding, but I'm rather glad he didn't come. It spared me from having to pretend to tolerate him."

"Mother…"

"Donnic told me he was shadowing you during that horrid affair with the qunari…the latest one at least. Well and good, but I still don't want to be civil."

Hawke hadn't even seen Fenris in the weeks since. Since the last time she'd seen him, he'd been glaring at her with seven shades of void in his eyes aimed right at her, she wasn't regretful of it. She didn't need another reminder she'd risked her life putting herself in the sights of the qunari again.

"Ser Royce and Corff both keep looking at you," she teased to lighten the conversation…and change the subject. "If you're not careful, they're going to end up dueling for your affections."

"Apparently I don't have a lack of admirers these days," Leandra said with a secretive little smile.

Alessa peered up at her. "Oh? Who else?"

Leandra just kept smiling and took a sip of wine, wandering toward the dance area. By that time, drink had made everyone's steps a bit wobbly. Currently, Sandal, Merrill, and Varric were dancing around in circles, punctuating each step with cries of, "Enchantment!" Every time they did, people simply collapsed in laughter. Even Aveline was laughing hard.

Not the way any party my parents would have thrown would end up. But Leandra Hawke wasn't the same woman she'd been then, she'd seen hardships the likes of which no one in her family had. This…seemed a far better party. She smiled, basking in the laughter and chaos and friendship around her while she pointedly ignored her daughter's pestering about her admirer.

It was late night by the time the party wound down. Leandra watched from the window as a parade of cheering, chanting guardsmen escorted the newlyweds down the street to the house they'd bought together a few weeks before the wedding. The guest rooms at the Hawke estate were full of people too drunk to walk home. Alessa had hauled Varric into a guest room and let her mother and Orana take care of Merrill. Since Saemus was a bit tipsy, Alessa and Theta walked him back to the Keep. Leandra turned her eyes toward them as they walked out of the estate. Like the Viscount, she had not missed the way he looked at her daughter. An interesting pairing, that. Maybe she'd be able to throw a wedding for one of her daughters after all.

Smiling, Leandra stepped away from the window and drew the blinds. There was cleanup that had to be done, a large task even with the extra servants hired for the evening. She wouldn't be able to sleep until Alessa came home safely anyway.

She paused before going downstairs, admiring the flowers she had set on the table at her bedside. She ran a thumb over the soft white petals. It had been perhaps a bit mean to tease Alessa about it, but this admirer apparently wanted to remain secret for now.

I can take the pain now, Malcolm, she thought to her husband, dead for more than six years now. She remembered the bold, dashing young mage who would climb through that very window behind her and sweep her out into a world she'd never really looked at before. She remembered how time and hardship had tempered that dashing young man into a strong, quiet man. Their marriage hadn't been an easy one, but she had never doubted that Malcolm's heart and soul had been dedicated to her and their children. Utterly.

The hurt of losing first him, then Carver had faded into a tolerable level. Perhaps seeing Aveline opening her heart and allowing herself to love again after losing Wesley made her think she could do it too.

And even if the flowers meant nothing, she could still enjoy them. Lilies were her favorite.