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[closed] you cannot have me, I own myself
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)
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.
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He sighs softly. "When you are Keeper, then, maybe I'll come back." He promises. "But you need to focus on the present. Your marriage." Then, after a moment. "Is this what you want, isn't it?" he asks, watching Sorrel carefully.
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He knows Cyril, and this isn't something he wants to talk about. Sorrel could try, could prod him, but it would take time, and effort, and there's only so many hours until the sun sets and the ceremony...
"C'mon, stop... talking like you'll never see me again."
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His tone might be light, and the idea of the much shorter Cyril throwing Sorrel's lanky body over his shoulder might be hilarious, but there was sincerity in his eyes.
Sorrel would only have to say the word and they would be gone.
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He thinks Cyril is joking. Of course he's joking, right? That's ridiculous, even if he wanted to, Sorrel can't run now. If for no better reason than the number of terrifying relatives that'll hunt him down and cut off his everything in retaliation for ruining Sina's big day.
"It's okay, really. I know it's the next thing to an arranged pairing, and Sina and I don't know each other very well yet, but-- but she's kind, and generous, and she likes gardening, like me. I don't know how we'll get along, especially with her in Kirkwall with the inquisition and me working with the clans, but there's time yet."
No one has told him yet, about Sina's illness, her steadily worsening condition. Or, maybe, Sorrel is simply optimistic.
"Believe it or not, I'm actually looking forward to this. Having someone else on my side. And the rest all the-- you know. Children? Fatherhood? I want that," This last part almost whispered, a secret sincerity, shared in confidence. Sorrel loved, most of all, to see small things grow fruitful and strong, to care for people. Despite his reasons, that one hope at least, came only from Sorrel himself.
"It's all for the People. I know you don't exactly... agree," Beleth told him about Cyril's broken betrothal, "But this is important to me."
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"This day, this moment, it is about you and what choice you are making for your life. What is important to you, is important to me."
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What is important to you, is important to me.
It feels so good not to hold back, for once. So much of Sorrel's life is about seeing that which you most want to do, dangled before your eyes, and knowing better than to hope for it, let alone reach. It began so long ago that when his magic attracted the darker eyes of the Fade, denying them had been no challenge-- but this is so different from that. Cyril is real and warm and alive in Sorrel's arms, and for all the distance they'd had, over the years, and recently, he came. Even if everyone else left forever and never thought to miss him, Cyril still cares. For a long, tight minute Sorrel simply revels in that, in being permitted to be important, in the simple, comforting contact of it, clean forest smells, and city smoke, and sweat in his nose...
And then he lets go wiping at his eyes.
"Thank you. That might be the nicest thing anybody's said to me all day."
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When Sorrel pulls away, Cyril tilts his head a bit to watch him.
"It's your wedding. People should be saying all sorts of nice things to you. Well wishes for the future, good tidings, etcetera, etcetera.
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As if Cyril could forget, with Sorrel smiling at him with such open happiness, eyes still shining.
"You know?"
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