[closed] you cannot have me, I own myself

[eolasemah]

WHO: Sina, Nari, Beleth, Korrin, Araceli, Thranduil, others as specified in Notes
WHAT: The bonding ceremony of the Firsts of Clans Dahlasanor and Ashara (Siuona and Sorrellean, respectively)
WHEN: mid-Bloomingtide
WHERE: the Planasene Forest
NOTES: Usually only Dalish would be allowed, but amnesty is being granted to close, trusted friends of the bride, including outclan Ashara and Sabrae, should they choose to accept it. Upon the insistence of Clan Dahlasanor, unaffiliated city elves will also be welcomed as long as they aren't disruptive. (OOC note: if you're unsure and your dude wants to go, PM me)

The day starts out rainy and grey, never a promising sight for an outdoor ceremony. But the Dalish do most things outside, and everyone will likely be too busy partying to care about it after the bonding ritual itself, so the festivities are set to begin right on schedule.

A clearing has been chosen by Keeper Thalia of Clan Dahlasanor, and the words are to be spoken right at the edge of the forest, under the shelter of trees but still fully incorporating the flowers of the field. This is a place of some significance to Sina's clan, a symbol of their flight from the plains to the forest, and of their new, strengthening relationship to Clan Ashara.

The clearing and surrounding forest are otherwise littered with aravels and tents, a gathering of clans
one of which eagerly anticipates their joining. Keeper Thalia, an active participant in preparations,
has made it clear that she will be officiating the ceremony alongside Deheune; Dahlasanor is being welcomed, not absorbed.

Sina has been quietly nervous for the entirety of the journey from Kirkwall, but as is her tendency, she comports herself with poise and says little on the upcoming nuptials. She's not unhappy. It's her duty, she's proud to do it, and more than anything she's intensely excited to see her clan again.

And let's be real, the party afterward is going to be a rager.

Comments

PREPARATION

[eolasemah]

[Help out! Say hi to your family! Get yelled at by Keepers! Stand around being nervous because you're surrounded by unfriendly elves with bows! Why is that blonde elf with half her face tattooed looking at you like she's about to eat you alive? Stay alive!]

get yelled at by a keeper!!

[arlathvhen]

It's only natural that Deheune is here, at the wedding of her son. She's no less imposing than she was the last time they visited, lobbing orders like a general in a battle, Ashara clan members scurrying about like soldiers at her direction. That doesn't take away from the fact that she's looking pleasantly satisfied by everything around her, the culmination of one of her finest achievements.

Despite her busying around the area, she's happy to stop and chat with anyone that approaches her. Even those she might not have preferred to appear at the bonding ceremony will be given some amount of polite pleasantries. This ceremony is not about her, but about the clans, and it wouldn't do to make a fuss over petty squabbles.

roast him

[rowancrowned]

Thranduil takes the time to slip into place beside her during a lull. Her direction is impressive- perhaps it's his age, or his lingering appreciation for seeing elves busy with the sort of work that means family, that means community.

"Your daughter mentioned this is a triumph for the clans."

Polite, and freely letting his curiosity shine through. This is Deheune's space; he is only a guest, if a very tall one.

[arlathvhen]

Once Deheune notices Thranduil--Creators, he moves quietly--she quickly raises a hand to the Dalish that had been discussing the state of the drinks for the party afterwards, and dismisses them. They can go bother the other Keeper, since she was so fretful about people not recognizing her authority.

Once that was done, she turns to Thranduil, politely bobbing her head to him. "She's quite right, I'd like to think. She recommended that I get in touch with Keeper Thalia--and I hear Siuona did the same for Thalia. When we did, we realized there was much that we could gain from an alliance." Her eyes dart over to where some Dalish from the two clans are working together, giving a small, satisfied nod.

"We'd all heard about the attack on Clan Dahlasanor, of course, but I hadn't realized they were down to two dozen or so members. A clan that size wouldn't last another decade." Either from humans picking them off, or a plague, bad weather, or something as mundane as running out of unrelated people to reproduce. "And we are both down to one First to carry on after us." There's a meaningful pause there, filled with old but never forgotten annoyance. "We decided it would be mutually beneficial to join together, and what better way than with a bonding?"

[foxsays]

With what she knows of Beleth's mother, Araceli doesn't have the highest of opinions but this is the wedding of her son and Araceli's a guest with the manners her mother and father instilled in her so when she does spot an opening, she takes it. Better to annoy her for a moment by taking up her time than perhaps being seen as a human too rude or full of themselves to think they need to greet the host.

"Señora, Araceli Bonaventura y Castell at your service." Giving her full name is something Araceli has long since stopped doing with the bulk of the Inquisition given the apparent inability to wrap their tongues around it but there's something about meeting a Keeper and Beleth's mother that demands a level of propriety. The bow goes with it too, a motion so comfortable it can be easily seen as the habit that it is, natural for her. "I am honoured to have been allowed to attend today, Sina has been a cherished friend for well over a year now, as has Beleth.

[arlathvhen]

Deheune watches Araceli approach with a measured calm, polite curiosity in her eyes. That curiosity only increases as Araceli introduces herself--though she makes no comments on it. Instead, she waits until Araceli is finished, and then nods politely.

"I am Keeper Deheune, of the Ashara clan. It's a pleasure to be able to be a host to someone who's a friend of both the bride, and my daughter. Both of them have told me that you are a gracious friend, and well worth bringing here." Her smile is perfectly cordial, tone even and calm. "It's rare for us to allow a human to see such a solemn event of ours. I hope that you enjoy the ceremony." She glances off to the side, pausing for a carefully measured moment, before turning back to Araceli.

"I've wondered before if we wouldn't benefit from demystifying some of our ceremonies. Knowledge begets understanding, or so is the hope. I can only hope that if there are more such guests, that they behave as admirably as you."

Beleth

[arlathvhen]

Beleth serves as a much more anxious version of her mother, passing out orders and moving around to check that everything is perfect. This is, after all, her brohter's big day, and Corypheus himself couldn't stop her from making sure that it was perfect. And speaking of her twin, Beleth takes frequent breaks to stop and talk to him, fixing his hair--even if she just fixed it a few moments ago--and straighten his clothes. Those breaks are never long enough, and it's with clear reluctance that she pulls away to resume her duties.

When she isn't directing, she's working right beside her fellow Dalish, setting up pews and adding decorations. Once again, it's obvious that Beleth is decently well-liked among her clan members, and any that she takes the time to aid are happy to pleasantly chat with her, and wish her well as she hurries off again.

Nevertheless, she'll stop and talk to anyone who wants to speak.

[foxsays]

Aside from the bride-to-be, the other person actually involved in proceedings that Araceli actually knows is Beleth. She can't avoid anyone's gaze here since she's a human but she knows better than to point out that she's a rifter either since that isn't going to make her look better in anyone's eyes. There's an itch beneath her skin that isn't entirely from being watched however, so she goes to Beleth since they know each other.

They're both bards too. They can smile and laugh even with sweaty palms for entirely separate reasons.

"Beleth," a pause as she reminds herself that she has to remember to speak the common tongue again, "is there anything I can do to lend a hand that won't be seen as rude or out of place? I have no desire to offend, I knwo that some customs belong entirely to a people alone."

[arlathvhen]

As soon as Araceli greets her, Beleth turns away from her current task (worriedly directing people on hanging garlands in the trees), and greets her with a warm smile. It's nice, to be able to show Araceli a glimpse of Beleth's world, the life that shaped her into the bard that she is. The place that she feels the most stable. Even if she's currently running around a bit like a chicken with it's head lopped off.

"Ah, you're a guest of the clans, Araceli, you're under no obligation to help. But if you would like to, uh..." She pauses for a moment, scanning the area around them. Best, she thinks, to stick Araceli with the Ashara clan, who has had dealings with humans before, and whom Beleth has some small measure of influence over. Luckily, when there's around a hundred of them, and only two dozen of the other clan, it's not too hard a task. "You could always help with the decorating? I bet that you'd be excellent at it." Araceli, after all, always managed to look so pretty, surely it couldn't be that hard for her to make places look pretty as well.

"You needn't worry too much about customs here," Beleth assures her, with a wave of her hand. "The only thing that you would be unable to get involved in would be the ceremony proper, but that applies to pretty much everyone but the couple and the Keepers. Just be courteous during the ceremony--nothing that is unusual for any ceremony, really."

She stops for a moment, thinking. "And don't worry too much about the party afterwards, just. Ah. Maybe avoid any dark corners--Not for safety!" She quickly puts her hands up, not wanting Araceli to think there's a possibility of her getting jumped. "Sometimes people get carried away with the revelries and lose their...discretion. Couples, particularly." This is explained with a look of distaste. Beleth would, personally, contemplate death before having anyone stumble upon herself in any...compromising situations. "Other than that, just have fun. It's a bonding, after all."

[writteninblood]

"Bel, Bel-- stop it's fine," Sorrel is protesting this treatment, despite the fact that he's the one who asked her, more fool he, if his appearance was, in fact, fine, "Breathe, alright?"

He catches her wrists, gives her the example of his own breath, and tries a smile. Here now, twin. Relax, just for a moment with me.

"I swear, you're more nervous than I am. And I'm about to retch," Without asking, Sorrel pulls her into a hug. It probably ruins some small, vital, totally unnoticeable detail about the way his robes are setting over his shoulders, not the Sorrel much cares, "S'gonna be okay."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth's lips twist into an expression that's supposed to be exasperated, but she can't quite pull it off. She settles for taking an exaggerated breath following his example, then laughing softly, returning the hug just as tightly. For a few moments, she just stays like that, then pulls away to press her forehead to his, just for a couple of seconds, before finally taking a step back.

"I know, I know. It's just--" She takes a moment to smooth out his robes, before she catches herself, and laughs again, putting her hands down. "--It's not every day I get to see my twin bond with someone." She shakes her head, an undeniably fond expression on her face. "Look at you. You're like a real adult, now. What am I going to do with you? What am I going to do with myself?"

A thoughtful pause. "But if you vomit, just make sure you don't get any on your robes."

get fancy 2

[nadasharillen]

It is a truth universally accepted that Nymii had the nimblest fingers in Dahlasanor. Every year, around this time, Sedi would show up with her hair in intricate braids, sometimes with a little flower tucked in somewhere that the dour hunter pretended not to notice. It was therefore only a small surprise when the thief showed up with a bright smile, her hands full of several different flowering vines, their fragrance delicate and sweet. No doubt there was a trellis in Hightown somewhere that had been ...'trimmed'.

It was a genuine surprise when she offered them to Sina to choose from. No matter how anyone else asked or begged to have their hair put up for this or that, Nymii would only smile and shrug. As far as anyone knew, she'd not touched anyone else's hair--save Sedi's--since joining the clan.

"I like the white lilac," she said conversationally, as if this were a completely banal occurrence, "but it's your bonding ceremony, so--"

[eolasemah]

Nymii's appearance is reassuring to Sina, both in that she's a much-respected slightly older member of the clan (not that everyone isn't older than Sina), but also because she and her partner are both terrifying and likely to clear out some of the madness in this tent. She supposes it's fortunate that Sedi is nowhere to be seen, but sometimes that actually bodes worse. She warned Araceli, didn't she? ...she will.

"White lilac is fine," she agrees with a shaky smile, "whatever you think best, lethallan." Sina may be the First, but having a healthy respect for the blonde hunters is just basic survival.

[nadasharillen]

The shaky smile is returned with a bright sure one, Nymii letting the other selections carelessly fall to the ground as her bright blue eyes dance calculatingly over the young First's head. Deft fingers comb through the length of her hair to both settle it down and test its texture, gently pulling at sections to test how their slight wave responds. After a few long moments she'll nod, and hold out the remaining flowers for Sina to hold.

A small bottle is produced from somewhere, the fragrant oil it contains applied sparingly to the ends of her hair, then patiently brushed through with a very elegant and decidedly not-Dalish brush. It adds a soft shine to the First's hair, a rich dimension that had slowly faded as the stress and illness brought by the shard stretched on.

Nymii smiled like a cat as she worked. She reclaimed the lilac from its keeper and replaced the brush with her fingers again, their practiced sectioning, twisting, smoothing, weaving motions hypnotic enough to lull some of the stress Sina was under. It also helped that interruptions and fussing became quickly sparse as the blonde hunter extended her vaguely threatening 'go away' aura to encompass the both of them. Although Nymii was usually the chattier of the blonde dyad, she was quiet now; but brief but purposeful touches conveyed her sympathies. She--perhaps of all those Dalish gathered--with her time in the city, knew what it was to be with a man of necessity or duty rather than love or even the barest attraction.

She was glad Sorrel was a good man. Her brief rummaging through the belongings he'd chosen to bring, the snippets of conversation she'd eavesdropped on, had been proof enough of that. Even devoted Nahariel wouldn't do what Nymii would do if he hadn't been. And moreover, it seemed he was in the same position. The best match that could be hoped for, given the circumstances.

After a good candlemark of work, the fingers gave their final pat, and it was done. She held up two hand mirrors at careful angles so that its wearer could see. The whole thing was held together securely by flower, stem, and a lovely pearl-topped pin; the latter safely placed so that its wickedly sharp tip wouldn't be a danger to anyone unless its bearer wished it.

"It's not Dalish, but in the alienage I'd always stick a pin in. In case someone thought they'd act in a way that wasn't ...appreciated. What they do with their 'pin' is their choice, what you do with yours--" She gently guided Sina's hand to test it, so she could feel where it was. "--is yours. Always."

Another smile, genuine and bright, as if she hadn't just suggested stabbing someone, and Nymii was gone.

Cyril

[samahl]

Cyril isn't as vibrant as usual today. He's here, dressed well in Dalish clothes, and appears happy when someone is near him, but he isn't trying to be the center of the party.

He wants to talk to Sorrel before the ceremony, but he had no idea if he'll be allowed access to the groom before then. Either way, he just wants to survive today, support his friend, and return to somewhere he feels he's accepted.

It's strange how being back among his Clan helps him realize how little he wants to be here.

Before the Ceremony

[writteninblood]

"Cyril."

It ought to have come with an exclamation point, really. Sorrel's that happy to see him, like an unlooked-for gift, pleasant surprise. It's not the Sorrel didn't think Cyril would come, of course, it's only that he's been so occupied with so much else that the thought had been pushed to the back.

"It's so good to see you here," And he smiles, only remembering at the last minute not to put his hand through his hair. It's done up nicely, for this, slicked back and soon to receive its floral crown-- be a shame to ruin it, only for nerves, "I, uh-- Creators, this is all so..."

He trails off, grinning, not quite able to find the right words. Terrifying? Exciting? Strange? Wonderful? Something like those things, at least.

"How are you, Cyril?"

[samahl]

Cyril looks over at Sorrel and for a moment he can't breathe. After that passes, though, he moves a little closer and offers his hand to give Sorrel something to hold onto while he can't run his hands through his hair.

"I'm well," he says. There is a lot of sadness in his heart being back among the people who raised him and grew up with him with the knowledge that he might never see them again. He doesn't let even an ounce of that show, though. His face is pleasant, welcoming, and pleased for the festivity.

"More importantly, how are you?"

help the bride!

[eolasemah]

Sina has taken up residence in a tent of her own, where she's being attended by way more women than she even knows the names of, and is finding her nervousness rising with the more of them that are in here washing and changing into their best clothes and putting their hands all over her. It would be nice, she can't help but think, to just sneak off with one of them, perhaps hold her tightly for a while, calm down--
but that's ridiculous, and she's jolted back into reality by Halesta arriving with a suspicious stick of charcoal, or one of the many Ashara attendants speaking to her, or Nymii popping in with designs on braiding her hair.

Everything will be better when this is over, but in the meantime, Sina maintains what stillness she can and lets herself be groomed and preened like a doll shared between a hundred girls.

[foxsays]

Unsure of her place here exactly, Araceli is all the more aware of how many eyes there are at any one time following her movements but even if she hasn't been invited, her presence here has been allowed, so that surely extends to seeing Sina. It's habit that has her slipping back into her mother tongue rather than common because this reminds her too much of casing estates in Castileos, wondering if the guards would turn, if one would call the rest and draw a pistol.

The results here might be far worse and she's not going to know when she's being insulted or spoken about, her grasp of elven is sadly limited.

"Lo siento," she murmurs softly enough that Sina can choose to ignore her if she wants to or send her out because Araceli isn't entirely sure about Dalish wedding etiquette here. "I didn't know if I would have a chance to see you again before you were a married woman, so I wanted to try. If I'm not intruding."

[eolasemah]

Sina startles when Araceli arrives so abruptly, but at least the tent is cleared except for herself, since she kicked everyone else out. She's just kneeling on the ground, already wearing her ceremonial robe, flowers braided up in her hair, even a little bit of color dusted onto her cheeks and lips.
"Oh," she gasps, but breaks into a breathy smile, "you're not, lethallan. I'm glad you survived this far."

[gatheringstorm]

Feeling somewhat adrift and not knowing her place in this affair, Korrin decides it makes the most sense to focus on the person at the center of the impending ceremony. (Sure, Sorrel's a part of it, but she doesn't know him. So, it's just Sina.) She finds the tent easily enough, taking care with her height and horns not to mar it in any way as she steps inside. For a moment, she just takes in the sight of Sina thus garbed, a warm smile spreading on her lips.

"You look radiant, Sina. I hope it's not rude of me to enter right now, but I had to see if there's any way I can help."

helps

[arlathvhen]

The idea of being fussed over by a whole host of Dalish sounds entirely appealing to someone who would probably wither away and die from lack of attention, but Beleth is not so oblivious as to think that everyone would enjoy it. Which is why, once she's made another round to check on Sorrel, she ducks into the tent to inspect the state of the bride--both in appearance and otherwise.

After a few moments, she clucks at the Ashara Dalish present, and shoos them out, with the promise of letting them return soon. Tent momentarily freed, and feeling a bit smug about getting a chance to do a little showing off, Beleth takes a seat across from Sina, eyes darting over her. "You look lovely," She assures her, and has to resist the urge to attempt to fix Sina's hair, when there's nothing wrong with it.

"How are you doing? Do you need anything...? Everyone's being respectful to you, right? If anyone in my clan treats you poorly, you can tell me." Pause. "Even if it's Sorrel, then I'll just shove him into the nearest body of water."

Deal with the Groom!

[writteninblood]

Sorrel is not, by nature, a nervous person. But then, in most cases, he wouldn't be facing so important a moment, and in front of not just his mother, but his entire clan-- Two clans.

Two clans! And visitors! And everyone will be watching him as he inevitably does something foolish and--

Is it hot in here? If it weren't for the day, and his place in it, Sorrel would try and find the time to go walking, find somewhere cool and shaded and lonesome to think. But there's no time for that, and the ties on his fancy wedding-robe are hard to do with shaking hands.

"Just breathe, it's going to be fine," Sorrel told himself, then laughed at his own nerves. No, nothing was going to go wrong; for once, the precision and force of his Mother's will were working for Sorrel, rather than against him, "You can do this."

He hopes. Maybe you have some insight on the matter?

no-one expects the lesbian inquisition

[nadasharillen]

"Nerves are good," remarked an unfamiliar voice from behind him. Its owner--a blonde Dahlasanor elf that shared his vallaslin in thin, black, hollow lines--took over the task of tying the robe with hands as deft and steady as Sorrel's had been shaky. Her lips curved in a bright, welcoming smile that didn't reach the ice in her calculating blue eyes; it looked more like a bow being drawn than any actual reassurance.

"They mean you care about what caused them."

[rowancrowned]

Thranduil's hand is cool, placed on Sorrel's shoulder, though it cannot pass through the robes to offer some comfort. Perhaps everyone ought not to be approaching him from behind, but perhaps Sorrel ought not to have squirreled himself away in a corner. Thranduil, not intending to startle, is still unapologetic as he comes to face Sorrel, and does an appraisal of his outfit.

He focuses mainly on the wrinkles, and smoothing them out.

"Your bride has a cloud of elves about her." The robes are well-made, and not entirely dissimilar to what Thranduil might see in court. That means his work is easier. He looks up to meet Sorrel's eyes, and smile. "Where are your attendants?"