Chapter Text
Dorian stood with his arms crossed over his chest, thinking where this day was on his top five proudest moments. Asha stood there – moments after yelling “I hate dresses!” and falling accidentally into his side – looking like a goddess. Her hair was tied back into a loose and beautiful bun, strands of wavy black hair framing her face, and on her head, the most delicate flower crown of tiny white petals and clear sparkling crystals, strung together with a gold that matched the thread of her dress. She was elegant, like nothing anyone had ever seen. She wore mage robes in the circle, thick armour in battle, but never a dress. Everything she’d ever worn combined probably wasn’t as expensive as the thing, either.
“You look good in white.” Dorian said, choking up. He was biting onto his bottom lip and blinking tears from his eyes.
“Don’t cry, you’ll set me off too.” she said, punching him weakly in the arm. They both stared at the dress, draped perfectly from her body, tight in all the right places and falling midway down her calves. Dorian put his arm around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
“This would be a good time to grow my arm back, don’t you think?” she joked, using her magic to flex the fingers of her prosthetic arm. One of the few times she was grateful to be a mage, she supposed. It was decorated lightly with the white and gold theme of her dress and flowers, but she still would have chosen her real arm, had she had the chance. “You look good, too.”
“Oh, flatter me if you must, but it isn’t about me.” he said, “This is all about you and your broadly seen as unwise decision to marry a Qunari.”
They laughed, mostly at the people who had said things like that, and partly from nervousness.
Dorian grinned.
“You haven’t seen what Bull looks like yet have you?”
On the other side of Skyhold Vivienne twirled like a fairy godmother around the Iron Bull, already looking as flawless as ever for her appearance in the crowd of the wedding. But it wasn’t her looks that had her attention, it was Bull’s.
“You’ll look stunning, darling,” she said, flicking Bull’s hands away from the buttons of his suit and doing them up twice as quickly herself. Bull pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes – eye – before looking up at the mirror he stood far too tall to fit his whole body into. “Broad shoulders, gorgeous colours,”
She started listing things she liked – she better have, since she chose most of these ridiculous costumes – until her voice faded out of his mind. She was right, though. He looked good. Damn good. The top half of him was black, then grey trousers, and black boots. Everything but the trousers were lined with gold, little arrows on the corners of the cloak hanging down over his ass and most of his thighs. Thighs, he thought. Asha’s into thighs. He could picture her face seeing him for the first time, and suddenly the idea of wearing it in public didn’t seem half bad.
Vivienne twirled around him one last time, wrapping his waist in golden silk like the blue one he’d worn at the Winter Palace two years ago. He felt like he’d been poked into a corset for a moment as she pulled it tight, then ruffled it around until it looked nice and in place. She stood back with one hand on her hip at the other in the air near her lips in thought.
“What do you think, dear?” she asked.
“I like the shoulder tassels.” he said, flicking them and watching them sway. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but a slight smirk had formed on her face.
“They’re called epaulettes, darling.” she said, the word ‘darling’ firm like a scold.
“I don’t know what half this shit is called in common tongue.” he growled low and to himself. She clicked with her lips and strutted over again, dusting off his shoulder with her delicate hand.
“Varric told me he’d be willing to place a bet on whether I could make you look presentable without complaint.” she said.
“And?” Bull said, wriggling his toes in his boots. They came up to his knees and for a moment he wondered where Vivienne would ever get them in his size. Same with the gloves, which were funny to him, because of how they had to make special short pinkie and ring finger… finger sleeves. What would you call them? Before he could think of an answer for his own question, Vivienne was dragging him off again. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon he’d be Asha’s husband and this would all be worth it. For her.