Days passed and at last the day before the wedding arrived. A day Loghain was not looking forward to. For, as in tradition, today he would be creeled, or else made to carry stones around the whole of Denerim until his bridegroom decided to grace him with a kiss. After his last encounter with the elf he had gone back to trying to avoid her. Thankfully it was easy to do as the preparations for the wedding and surrounding celebrations soon become nearly all consuming. Regardless the thought of her had all but driven him mad. At night he could taste her still upon his lips, and she haunted him in his dreams like some demon of desire formed from the fade to torment him with light touches both innocent and demanding. He berated himself for such thoughts, for such dreams, knowing that as a man near twice her age he should consider the very likely fact that she might not want anything to with him.

His desires were, he thought, selfishly one-sided, their heated kiss a result of his own weakness. He had, in his mind, taken advantage of her in not only a weakened state but a nearly inebriated one. He was sure then that she must be disgusted with him and he would not be surprised if she forced him to traverse the whole of Denerim twice for his transgression, withholding her kiss to make him suffer for the sin of believing she might find him as attractive as he found her.

Regardless of his feelings of resignation, as well as his resistance, the ex-general was dragged from his bedchamber just as the sun had barely begun to show itself upon the face of Thedas by Ser Cauthrin as well as several of the banorn who still supported him. Putting up a fight nearly the entire way Loghain was strapped to a large woven basket and pushed from the doors of the Denerim Palace dressed in the lightest and least fine of his armor they could find for him. It felt strange being in leathers once more, it was even more strange to see the odd mixture of both wicked and innocent delight from the common people as he was forced and guided through the streets of Denerim by none other than the King and his entourage. Loghain had little doubt that Maric's bastard son took secret delight in seeing the weight upon Loghain's back grow and his burden grow to the point of becoming nearly painful to bear.

Still, other than this minor wickedness Alistair did nothing to impeded the procession. Loghain had to admit, if only to himself, that the boy was growing well into his responsibilities as a ruler. He was proving more adept than Cailan ever had and was proving to be a formidable force on his own even if he did often look to Eamon and other advisers for advice. He disliked having the crown on his shoulders there were few who could deny seeing it. But then Maric had never enjoyed the crown either…and it was apart of that which had made him a good ruler. Whatever doubts the old general had once had about the boy were slowly fading, and he had little doubt that most of Alistair's growth and determination came from the actions of one small elf with red hair who could direct those who followed her more accurately than a playwright could direct a stage.

By the time Loghain made the full circuit through the whole of Denerim and returned to the Palace his load had become uncomfortably heavy and as he came up the Palace steps he expected to find no one waiting for him. And yet, to his surprise, there was Anora and her procession and a gaggle of Grey Wardens … with Tearanae at the head. She had forgone her normal robes for the occasion and donned a dress. The color and dress had no doubt been chosen for her, but Maker bless whoever had done so, for she looked a vision standing in the rays of the morning sun. The dress was strictly Ferelden in make and style, without a touch of real Orlesian influence. As such it was simple in make, a simple shift of silver cloth, it draped below her shoulders and at the crest of her breasts, the small but luscious mounds put on excellent display no doubt because of a corset beneath her dress. The belt draped around her thin waist was a deep and rich blue , as was the trim at the hem of her sleeves, the hem of her skirt, and the length of her collar. That small bit of color brought out all the color in her it seemed, and he loved the beauty of her draped before him.

He came up before her and knelt, his burden slightly eased as he came down to his knees before her. And still he thought she would not kiss him, after all she stood there silent, staring down at him with her fathomless eyes of blue. Until a small smile grew upon her lips and she leaned over to place a kiss upon his lips. To all appearances the kiss was innocent and almost chaste. But there was a touch of hunger to the kiss that made Loghain's knees week. Just a touch of pressure that allowed him to taste that same unique trait of innocence bound up in bottomless desire.

Loghain was so relieved to be kissed at all that he dropped his great weight and reached out to take hold of his wife to be. Gently he took her face in his hands and returned her kiss. And it was only due to her own laughter, her own quick thinking, that he remembered propriety and duty and drew away. A strange and almost awkward silence had fallen over the gathered crowd, but Nobility and Peasant alike. Until the small elf, with all her cunning and knowledge smiled and took his hand so that he stood and turned with him toward the crowd of peasantry and kissed him again upon his cheek before turning to them with a smile and stated clearly for them all to hear, "Rejoice people of Denerim! For tomorrow I will wed your River Dane! I have accepted him as my bride groom for what other man in this realm could be considered finer and be counted amongst the living?And when we are wed it will not be just Darkspawn that run when they see of my approach, but Orlesians as well! Two heroes will wed tomorrow! And with the grace of the maker you shall have more heroes likes us in the ages ahead!"

Her cheeky, cheerful, and inspiring little speech had the people laughing and cheering and delighting in an uproarious clamor. The din rushed over them from both before them and from behind in answer and Tearanae gave a wide smile and turned to him, her eyes expectant. The silent notion did not go unnoticed and together the two bowed. The crowd grew louder and respectfully the couple waved and turned away, arm in arm, toward the palace. Together they walked beside the King and Queen up the Palace steps and in the great keep. And Loghain could see, out of the corner of his eye, how his daughter and the elf upon his arm looked upon one another. There was a strange play of power there, a contention that teetered on the verge of a grudge in Anora's eyes. It took him mere moments to decipher the meaning. The elf had turned the tables upon Anora in this act.

She had made her marriage to him, what should have been a down-turn in her power and influence, into a major upswing. In one foul swoop she had taken away the illusion the Queen had held that she were somehow more important or had held the upper hand. And to be honest Loghain was neither surprised, nor irritated by the idea…simply impressed. The elf, it appeared, was far more clever than anyone ever gave her credit for. Including, if Loghain guessed correctly, those who looked upon her favorably or failed to underestimate her. Suddenly he wondered if he had not simply let the elf speak that night before the battle at Ostagar if the outcome would not have been far different than the reality.

Aw well, such speculations were not meant for stewing over and Loghain was not one for ruminating on the past. What's more, the day was far from over and there was much to be done. Not the least of which was to be his betrothed small moment of embarrassment held before the grand feast. A sight, he admitted only to himself, he was quite looking forward to.