Chapter 49: Celebrations

Delia and Alistair spent the entire afternoon simply talking to each other, explaining everything that had happened while they were apart. Alistair was proud of the way Delia had earned the elves' respect and friendship as well as her honest and giving heart. She proved to him more and more what a special woman she was. Delia was amazed at his stories of the werewolves as well as the demons they encountered in the forest. Her favorite story was about their discovery of an ancient oak tree that not only spoke, but in rhyme! She hoped they might have time someday to search the tree out once again so that she could see it with her own eyes.

Alistair couldn't remember an afternoon that was more pleasant. There were no chores that needed doing, no one to be fighting, and he was able to simply spend time with the woman he had grown to love. Quite possibly the best thing he learned was that Delia had actually taken the time to darn his socks! It was obvious to him that there was no other woman in the world as wonderful as his Delia, and he was a very lucky man. The afternoon passed by faster than he would have expected, and the sun was falling low in the sky before he knew it.

Zevran returned to the camp to gather his friends for the evening celebration. He led the way to the elven campfire, each individual excited in anticipation of what the festivities would entail. As they grew closer to the central fire, the sound of laughter could be heard above the din of conversation.

The elves had a great feast prepared. Roasted venison and boar meat sizzled on fires, and they brought out casks of their own beers made from the roots of birch and sassafras trees. The members of the clan had already gathered around the fire. Children ran around playing games, and the adults enjoyed each other's company. After the meal was served, Sarel told stories about the elves history and traditions. Delia and Alistair sat spellbound while he weaved his stories. Sarel asked Delia to share some stories as well, and she happily obliged. Most of the elves hadn't heard any of the stories she shared from other countries, and they were intrigued by the history they were able to learn that had been lost to them for so many centuries.

After they shared stories, several elves brought out musical instruments. Before long people were dancing. Sarel asked Delia to dance with him and he taught her several of their traditional dances. Lanaya taught Zevran dances as well, and before long Delia and Zevran were sharing the dances with their friends. Other elves started to ask members of the wardens' group to learn their dances as well, and the humans shared their folk dances with the clan in return. It seemed that for that night, at the very least, the line drawn between the elves and the humans was erased.

Alistair was sitting on a log, watching everyone else dance. He loved seeing the smile on Delia's face as she was whisked around by the men she danced with. Dancing wasn't something he was particularly good at, and he avoided dancing with anyone. His luck ran out when Delia herself pulled him up.

"Come on, Alistair. It's time you got in on the fun." She smiled broadly at him, and he found he couldn't resist her.

"Your desire is my command," he replied sheepishly. "Just remember that I have feet that are trained for combat, not dance. I apologize in advance for the brutalities your feet will suffer from mine."

She laughed at him. "You'll be fine. After all, you have me here to teach you!"

With that, they joined in with the dancing. Alistair found that he was actually having a wonderful time dancing with Delia. They were quite a dashing couple, and he was able to follow her steps far more easily than he had anticipated. After dancing to several lively tunes, the two were out of breath and decided to take a break. As they walked over to a log to sit, Alistair suddenly had a better idea.

"Delia, why don't we take a walk for a bit. It's very loud here, and I'd like a chance to relax."

She nodded and took his arm, allowing him to lead her away from the festivities. They walked in silence until they found themselves back at the wardens' fire. It was a chilly night, so Alistair stoked the fire and brought his blanket from his tent to wrap around them for warmth.

"The stars are beautiful tonight, aren't they Alistair?" She snuggled against his chest for warmth as she looked up at the sky."

He smiled at her. "Yes, but nowhere nearly as beautiful as you are." He kissed her gently, and then both of them looked back up at the stars.

Delia suddenly pointed up. "There, do you see that? A shooting star! Quickly, Alistair, you must make a wish."

"Make a wish? What for?"

She chuckled softly. "My grandfather used to take Dairren and me outside at night in late summer to watch the shooting stars. There is a week when you can see hundreds in a night. He would always tell us to make a wish on the first shooting start we would see each night."

"Alright then, I'll make a wish." He thought a moment, and then with a kiss to her ear he said seductively, "I'll tell you my wish if you tell me yours."

She laughed at him. "Silly man, you can't tell anyone what you wish for, or it will not come true."

He pulled her closer to him. "I promise I won't tell anyone else."

"No, Alistair, I won't tell you. I want my wish to come true." She loosened his grip so she could turn around and face him. "Not even you could pry it from me, but you are welcome to try." She grinned at him flirtatiously.

"Now that is a challenge I can't refuse." He pulled her closer and kissed her deeply.

As he broke the kiss, Alistair took a deep breath. "Delia, can we talk a minute?"

"Of course, my heart. Is there something troubling you?" Her face became worried.

"No, it's not anything bad, it's just… being near you makes me crazy. But I can't stand the thought of being without you, not… ever." He pulled back from her and ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Ever since I met you, nothing in my life has been the same as it was. You have changed me, for the better I might add." He smiled warmly at her, and took her hand in his.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before. I honestly feel the Maker had a reason for putting us here to face all this… darkness together. You are my shining light, my strength, my love." He looked at the ground for a moment, then kneeled in front of her and peered shyly back into her eyes. "What I am trying to say, rather poorly I might add, is… Delia Loren, would you do me the great honor of agreeing to… marry me?"

His eyes showed his nervousness, although they also showed his hope and longing. Delia was taken aback. This was unexpected, although certainly something she had hoped for. She looked at him nervously before answering him.

"I have one question for you, before I give you my answer to your proposal," she said, barely above a whisper.

He looked at her sadly. "Of course, I will answer any questions you have."

"Have you truly thought this through? What I mean is… you will have to stand at the Landsmeet. Do you think it is wise to be… attached… to me?"

He was surprised by her question. "I don't understand, what do you mean by that?"

Delia sighed and looked at the ground. "I am still the daughter of Bann Loren, one of the least respected men in all of Ferelden. What would the other nobles think of your being… married to his daughter? They might think he would be given more power, and they might align against you to protect themselves from him." She gave an involuntary shudder. "Or even worse: he might decide to cause trouble for you. I… couldn't bear for him to hurt you in any way."

He put his hand gently under her chin and lifted her gaze to his eyes. "Delia, I want to marry you, not your father. I swore to protect you, and I can actually do that better as your husband rather than your warden suitor. I believe you will be an asset to me at the Landsmeet rather than a hindrance. You are indeed noble born, and your grandfather still has many people who respected him who are nobles of the Landsmeet. We shall present you as his granddaughter, rather than your father's daughter. The nobles will, undoubtedly, understand that."

He gently kissed her forehead and then leaned his forehead against hers. "I love you, Delia. You fill a part of me that I never even knew was empty until you came into my life." He leaned back and looked directly into her eyes, smiling softly. "Please say yes."

She looked deeply into his eyes. "Is this truly what you want?"

He cupped his hand on the side of her face. "More than anything I have ever wanted."

Delia's face lit up with a huge smile. "Then my answer is yes. A thousand times yes!"

She threw herself into his arms with a combination of laughter and kisses peppered all over his face. He started laughing as well, matching her kisses one for one until he was finally able to capture her lips with his. They kissed more passionately than they ever had previously. Every emotion they had for each other revealed itself in that kiss – all the love, the relief, the happiness they had held in so as to not overwhelm each other just flooded out.

Finally they broke the kiss and just knelt there, holding each other tightly. Alistair ran his hand through her hair, feeling the silky softness of her tresses as he started to allow the reality sink in. "She is going to actually be my wife! Thank you, Andraste, for allowing this to happen! I can't believe how lucky I am." Suddenly he realized he had one more thing he had to take care of. Pulling away from her, he reached into his bag, rummaging for the object of his search. Once his fingers located the object he pulled it out. It was wrapped in a small piece of cloth, and as he opened it he revealed a beautiful ring.

"I had Varathorn make this, especially for you. It's made from ironwood. The elves seem to be the only people who can fashion it into anything, but it's stronger than silverite. The stone is a ruby I found in Haven as we made our way to Andraste's ashes."

Alistair placed the ring on her finger and Delia couldn't believe the incredible craftsmanship. The sides of the band were engraved with intertwining roses. The ruby set on the top was the most exquisite deep red color, and the cut was rectangular, showing the perfection of its clarity. Delia was overwhelmed by its beauty.

"Did you design this yourself?" she asked her betrothed.

"Well, it was my idea, but I don't really have a creative bone in my body. Varathorn took my idea and made it beautiful." His lopsided grin reappeared. "I wanted to have something to remind you of the rose I gave to you. You are the one beautiful thing that has happened to me in my life, and I want you to know how wonderful you are every time you look at your ring."

The two simply held each other for some time before Delia spoke again.

"I just thought of something. It is traditional for the groom to ask the bride's father's permission before they are even betrothed. What should we do?"

He chuckled deeply. "I already took care of that. I spoke to your real father earlier today. Actually, you found us just after we spoke about it. Oh, and he is very much in favor of our marriage, I might add."

Delia beamed at him. "So, it seems you've thought of everything."

"Well, I have been planning this for quite some time now." He kissed her softly. "So, what about the rest of our little camp? You know they're going to talk about this. I'm going to be teased mercilessly by Zevran and Morrigan at least."

"We'll handle them together, even if it means feeding them to the darkspawn." She looked at him with an evil smirk on her face, causing him to burst out laughing.

"See – I knew there was a reason why I love you so much." He took her hand and helped her to stand. "I suppose we should rejoin the others. I believe we have a bit more to add to the celebration!"

Delia took his arm and beamed up at him. "We certainly do, my love. We certainly do!"