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Emlygil stood quietly in front of the floor length mirror as the sounds of chaos reigned behind her. She adjusted the sleeves of her dress and twisted the glacial blue gemstone on her ring finger until it caught and shone against the sun streaming through the windows.
It was a glorious day. After being overcast and chilly for what seemed like an eternity, late summer had well and truly returned - the Allfather had blessed this day and this union. She had never felt luckier, marrying the man (of all things) of her dreams not once, but twice! When they initially married, on the evening before the battle to take back Minrathous and slay the elven god Elgar’nan for good, they had done so with the fear that they could perish and did not want to risk not being joined in matrimony before the horns of war blew. Now only a couple of months later, Queen Emlygil Galaval and Professor Emmrich Volkarin were to stand on ceremony in a grand state wedding that rivaled that of the Nevarran or Orlesian royals. Emlygil was impressed with how quickly and efficiently both her royal Arlathan courtiers and the Mourn Watch had managed to pull together such an event. Two vastly different and conflicting cultures and philosophies coming together to show and pledge their support for the couple who had overcome everything life and fate had thrown their way and emerged the other side intact and very much in love.
As she looked out onto the sprawling grounds of the botanical gardens, seeing all of the flowers in bloom and swaying softly in the wind, she feared in the back of her mind that she and Emmrich would never want to leave this place, merely walk up and down the endless rows, examining and inhaling the plant species around them and dream of growing them in their own garden. When the two of them had arrived to view the venue they fell in love with it. When they stood in the vast iron conservatory, surrounded by flora from all over Thedas in a space that could comfortably seat nearly two thousand guests, they booked it immediately. She wore those same plants woven into her elven crown, reminiscent of the crown of flowers she wore on the night they got engaged, as Emlygil tucked a moon blossom back into place.
“Okay, the last of the guests have finally sat down, it turns out we didn’t lose the pianist, he was just canoodling with one of the Orlesian nobles and the panic is over we were able to find Emmrich’s boutonnière - that could have been a disaster!” Bellara checked off her mental list as she approached Emlygil, slightly frazzled. Emlygil turned to her with a puzzled expression.
“Would that have really been world-ending, Bellara?” Emlygil said with a small smirk.
“Details are important! Especially with the entire world watching,”
“And the small detail of the bride and groom already being married?”
“Well, yeah that, but now we all get to celebrate it properly, together.”
Not everybody would be in attendance. A look of sorrow passed over their features as they remembered the loss of their dear friends, Lace Harding and Neve Galus. Heroes of Thedas who gave their lives to protect the realm, stop the gods and hold up the Veil. They had each been given a moving service before the remaining members of the Veilguard had finally disbanded after a hard fought campaign.
“They would have loved this so much, Lace especially. Always ready for a party, that one,” Emlygil said with a wistful smile.
“And Neve would have done a terrible job of trying to stay cool and unbothered, and would lose her mind once she saw the buffet spread.” Bellara gave a weak chuckle, knowing how much her friend loved trying new foods. “Oh no!” Bellara’s voice wobbled as tears started to spring in her eyes, “I can’t cry, weddings are supposed to be happy things!”
“I miss them too.” Emlygil said quietly. She had cried enough over the last half a year to fill several lifetimes, but the loss of the people she had come to call her family still felt raw and painful at times. She reached out her hand to Bellara who clasped it tightly within her own. “It’s okay to mourn, even on a day like today,”
“I don’t want to be a wreck on your big day!” Bellara defended.
“And you think Emmrich won’t be a blubbering mess at some point today?” Emlygil jabbed, lightly poking Bellara, a small mischievous smirk returning. Bellara laughed and sniffed, lightly dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief before retrieving the bouquet of moon blossoms and handing them carefully to the bride.
“Are you ready?” She asked excitedly.
“More than anything.” Emlygil felt a ripple of excitement run through her. Ready to become Mrs Volkarin. Again.
___
Davrin passed to Emmrich the gold cufflinks that were gifted to him from his wife after she had done some sleuthing and discovered that they had missed his nameday while off saving the world. Emmrich’s hands trembled as he tried to put them on and Davrin came to help.
“Nervous, Professor?” He joked in his usual smoldering voice.
“I am,” Emmrich admitted, surprising himself. “I can’t imagine why though - perhaps it’s the prospect of standing in front of all of those people.”
“Not getting cold feet though?” Davrin asked, arching his eyebrow, very seriously, to which Emmrich let out the laugh he needed.
“Is it possible to get cold feet two months into a marriage?” Emmrich chuckled again, finally straightening his cuffs and twisting the links around the right way. He fiddled with his bow tie, but couldn’t get it to settle neatly. “Is this right?” he asked with a frown.
“I’m pretty sure they’re supposed to be crooked.” Taash called from across the room, picking up the boutonnières, carefully handling them and trying not to sneeze. They passed the flowers to Davrin to wear and fed Emmrich’s through his button hole. “Have you seen her?” Taash asked.
“No, not for a couple of days, in keeping with tradition.”
“How restrained of you,” Taash snarked, “So you’ve not seen her dress or anything?”
“I saw a couple of early sketches before I had a pillow thrown in my direction, but I’m sure it will be beautiful.”
Lucanis slipped through a crack in the door as quietly as he could only to find three sets of eyes already watching him. He cleared his throat and stood up to his full height.
“I finished my sweep of the venue. No threats detected, but there will be Emerald Knights patrolling the grounds and the upper walkways during the ceremony.”
“Besides the fact that no one asked you to ‘sweep the venue’,” Taash said, mockingly mimicking quotation marks, “Your place in this ceremony is up front with us. Not skulking about on rooftops,”
“Yes, yes.” Lucanis grumbled, putting his own boutonnière on. “I was just making sure that the security was up to scratch.”
“You’re just mad that the Crows weren’t asked to run detail,” Taash scoffed.
“...no,” Lucanis grumbled, unconvincingly.
“This is a royal wedding, Lucanis. I think the royal guards should take charge here, no?” Davrin pointed out.
“Fine, fine!” The First Talon conceded, “I’m pretty sure Viago is checking the wine anyway,”
“What’s wrong with the wine?” Emmrich asked with a frown.
“Nothing!” Lucanis said lithely, “...that you know of,” he muttered under his breath when Emmrich had turned away. Tassh rolled their eyes and did a final mental checklist in their head before coming to Emmrich, straightening his bowtie again and brushing any lint off his crisp shirt and perfectly pressed lapels.
“You’re excited though, right?” They asked softly. While the two of them had a somewhat fractious relationship during their time in the Veilguard, Emmrich and Taash had since grown to be very close. Emmrich had checked in with Taash frequently to offer an ear or comfort after the death of both their mother and their burgeoning new love, Harding. After a few initial rebuffs, Taash had finally let down their wall and allowed Emmrich a peek into their broken heart. Emmrich helped them to heal from their pain, retelling stories and finding ways to honour the dead. Taash had been incredibly grateful, and found their own ways to repay Emmrich’s immense kindness.
“Indubitably.” Emmrich whispered back with a warm secret smile. Taash sniffed and tried to play off the mist covering their eyes as a reaction to the flower attached to their suit jacket.
“Stupid flowers,” Taash muttered, wiping at their eyes. Emmrich tipped a subtle wink and squeezed their hand reassuringly.
“You’ve been wonderful with the planning, Taash. I know Emlygil and I really appreciate it.”
“Got to keep busy, I guess.” Taash shrugged.
“Of course,” Emmrich muttered, “but should you ever find yourself needing a rest, you know that we always have a room ready for you. Always.” Taash looked down at him and the mist in their eyes broke away to a tear slipping down their cheek.
“Shut up, Emmrich,” they said fondly, sniffing and wiping a hand over their face. They groaned and shook off the emotion before lightly punching Emmrich’s shoulder (although it was still a little painful) “Now let’s go see how knockout your wife is.”
“Astutue as ever, Taash.” but even as he spoke, Emmrich could feel his excitement rising. In less than an hour he would finally lay his eyes upon his beloved again.
___
Emmrich and his friends stood at the altar, which had been fashioned under the large oak tree that dominated the centre of the conservatory, incredibly fitting as the oak was the seal of Emlygil’s kingdom and embodied all of its values; strength, honour, endurance. Throughout the rise and fall, the rebuilding and rebirth of the Arlathan Kingdom, she and her people had remained strong and for the first time in centuries, they took their place back in the society of Thedas, no longer hidden away behind ancient and wild magic.
Emmrich had been nervous at standing in front of thousands of people and reciting his vows, but as he looked out over the sea of people he couldn’t help but be amused that the guests appeared to be sitting in rank and file according to the different factions that had all helped bring down the risen gods. At the front of course were members of the Arlathan royal court and the Mourn Watch on each of their prospective sides’ aisles. Myrna and Vorgoth (especially Vorgoth) stood out amongst his fellow colleagues, former students and other senior members of the Watchers.
Behind the Arlathan court was a sizable group of Veil Jumpers. They stood out with their usual colours of warm oranges and reds and Emmrich spotted Strife amongst them, looking surprisingly cheerful, when Emmrich had only ever known him to scowl. The injury he sustained during the Battle of Minrathous was slowly but surely healing. It was a miracle he had survived.
Directly across the aisle from the nomadic elves were several shimmering members of the Lords of Fortune. Isabella had pulled out all the stops (and apparently all of the jewels in the Lord’s vaults) to put together her outfit. She would radiate light as the sun caught in her ceremonial armour.
The person seated besides Isabella, cut a striking figure. Loran, if Emmrich could recall correctly. They were essentially Isabella’s right hand and second in command of the Lords. They had been instrumental in holding back the Antaam after the initial wave of attacks in Minrathous. Although he had definitely heard Isabella refer to them as ‘Goldie’ on several occasions, on account of their sun-like hair. Although since the war was over it seemed they had decided to let their natural colour back in and now was an attractive dark with grey streaks. They had opted for a far less ostentatious look than their counterpart and were wearing a slim fitted suit of peacock blue, in keeping with the colours of the Lords of Fortune and a smattering of gold across their hands and neck. For gold and glory.
The Grey Wardens, what was left of them, settled in behind, Evka and Antoine settled on the end. Even in the short months since they assumed control of the Wardens, they had transformed what many assumed to be a dire and terminal situation into one of hope. Giving the Wardens new meaning and purpose to their calling. The numbers had swelled which would have been fortunate were it not for so many victims who had been blighted during the risen god’s war.
The Crows and Shadow Dragons skulked about towards the back of the room, making sure to have eyes trained on everyone and ensure no harm befell the bride and groom. The shimmering gold and green plate armour of the Emerald Knights were stationed throughout the conservatory like perfectly still statues that filled the idyllic space, blending in with the other statues of maidens and woodland animals that were decorated throughout the indoor gardens.
Bellara had snuck in to let the musicians know it was time. The violinists struck up their instruments with quiet droning notes and the sounds of hundreds and hundreds of guests rising to their feet were momentarily deafening, before a hush descended, awaiting the bride. Emmrich had hoped he would show restraint and wait to gaze upon Emlygil when she was on the altar, but the moment the music started his neck practically snapped to the end of the aisle, eagerly awaiting to see her.
A few ladies in waiting, from the Arlathan court started their walk down the isle, tall and regal, somewhat serious looking. But then Bellara stepped onto the plush carpet and she vibrated with joy and excitement as she bounced down the aisle. Emmrich couldn’t help his grin as he caught her eye and heard Taash’s fond chuckle behind him. The music shifted and the conservatory was awash with murmurs as the Queen of Arlathan finally emerged, with Commander Garen on her arm.
It was the very first decision Emlygil made - having Garen walk her down the aisle With no living family left and him taking on a surrogate role throughout her life, it was the easiest decision she could make. And while it would have been nice for them to have Garen officiate as he had for their first ceremony, in the end that honour went to an elder member of the Southern Chantry. This was mostly a political agreement as neither Emmrich nor Emlygil followed the Andrastian religion, but seeing as the pair were already married and they were once again having a ceremony under a great oak tree, Emlygil was already within the embrace and acceptance of the Elven All-father.
Emmrich tried very hard not to cry. Very hard indeed.
As if by divine intervention, the sun broke through the crowds and illuminated his wife as she walked the long passage towards him. Her golden crown of halla horns, glittering and catching the light, momentarily blinding him. If he had had his wits about him, he could have made a joke about being blinded by her beauty, but he had made a promise with himself to wait to cry until at least after the ceremony and had to focus very hard on keeping that promise. Her long train flowed behind her, beadwork shimmering across the lace and across her arms and bodice. In her arms was cradled a bundle of moon blossoms tied with purple and green ribbon, the same flower settled over his heart, woven into her hair and decorated in vases across the room. She met his gaze as she was halfway down the walkway and had to bite her lip to keep her smile from falling off of her face. Emmrich returned her grin and even stoic Garen couldn’t keep the soft smile off of his usually stern features.
After what felt like an eternity, Emlygil had finally reached Emmrich at the altar, the small orchestra building to a quiet crescendo and the murmurs from the guests finally died down. Emlygil handed her bouquet carefully off to Bellara and turned to face her heart, her love, her life.
“Beloved guests.” The Grand Cleric began speaking after the guests had seated themselves, “We gather today to see the joining of these two peoples, this man and this elf, the joining of two nations and kingdoms, in a state of blessed matrimony. Who giveth this lady to be married to this man?”
Garen stepped forward onto the altar and took Emlygil’s hand, placing it in Emmrich’s.
“I do.” He announced. Emmrich nodded appreciatively before the commander stepped back, to watch his queen marry the love of her life.
The Grand Cleric began to speak of the nature of marriage and the significance it brings, the teachings and blessings of the Maker, as well as a small tangent on the bride and groom themselves - how they met and their accomplishments - how their ceremony was a source of hope for all Thedans after almost a year in darkness and a blighted war to end all blights.
“Before the vows are to commence, I believe the couple have prepared their own statements and declarations for each other,” The cleric stepped to the side as Bellara and Taash reached over to the respective sides and handed Emmrich and Emlygil notecards with their pre-prepared words lovingly penned. The cleric nodded for Emlygil to go first and she delicately cleared her throat.
“Emmrich. I had always thought I knew what my life would entail. I was born and bred to rule, protect my kingdom and its people. It’s what I waited my whole long life to do, within a day it was all taken from me and I had to leave the sanctity and safety of my home and seek help out in the wider world. I never expected to find anything other than savagery and sadness. Instead I found beauty and kindness and love. I found you. From the start you saw me when I wished to be hidden, helped me when I was determined to suffer alone. You loved me, as wholly and as ardently as I do you. You are my source of strength every day, the song in my mind, the beat of my heart, the smile on my lips. You are everything to me; Ma vhenan. Ma arlath. Ma sal’shiral. To share my life and my soul with yours is a fate I gladly share, and to know that at the end of it all, I will walk the currents of the Fade sea with you, hand in hand, for all eternity, ma sa’lath - it is a fate I would not exchange for anything in this world or the next. I adore you, Emmrich.”
She finished with a shuddering breath and Emmrich could feel her hand squeezing his and her other hand trembling as she held her speech in front of her. Emmrich couldn’t help the tear fall that had fought so valiantly to stay behind his eyes, but he felt her warm hand upon his cheek, gently stroking it away. Emmrich whispered his thanks before she handed her card to Bellara and Emmrich began his own declaration.
“My darling, Emlygil.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat again, “As you and our dear friends know, I am a man of many, many words. An idiosyncrasy of mine that has delighted and infuriated you, no doubt, over the time we’ve spent together, but as I stand here now, I do find myself at a loss for words. I often tell you how much I love you and how much you mean to me, and yet words never seem to be enough to express how deeply I mean it, so instead I will stand here today before everyone and make promises that I can put into action. I promise to love you every moment of every day, through joy and hardship, tedium and excitement. I promise to dedicate myself anew everyday and worship at your feet whenever your grace allows. I promise to be your liege man of life and limb, and protect you against all manner of folks. I promise to carry your burdens when you cannot. Be your shield and sword when you need strength. You will always have my ear, my mind and my heart. I promise to follow you wherever you wish to go. A moment with you would sate me for eternity and beyond and I am so blessed to share my life and soul with yours. I love and cherish you so much. I declare before the gods and all who are gathered here today, I am wholly and utterly and hopelessly and happily yours.”
Emlygil chuckled tearfully as she listened to his speech, both for its beautiful words, but also the surprise that he had performed the whole thing in elvish. Her language lessons over the last year had paid dividends and he spoke like a true native. It was Emlygil's turn for a tear to slip from her eye, but she tilted her head back to prevent it from ruining her made-up face. Bellara gasped from excitement behind Emlygil, clearly the elvish was a surprise to their pseudo wedding planner too. Emmrich passed his speech card back to Taash, who nodded sagely in approval.
The grand cleric stepped back on the altar and began to recite the official marriage vows, the couple gazing into each other’s eyes, barely registering the world around them. For them, it was just the two of them.
“This union is blessed by the powers that be and witnessed by all in attendance today.” The cleric announced. They turned to Emmrich. “You may kiss your new bride.”
Emmrich slipped his hand around her slender waist and held her close to his chest as he dipped her, finally feeling his lips against hers after what felt like an eternity apart. Her arms looped around his neck, for support but also unwilling to let him go. When he finally relented and her placed her back on solid ground he nudged her crown lighter further up her head and pressed his lips to her forehead, cradling her head feeling her hair and flowers weave between his fingers. As the crowd applauded and the music struck up again, he whispered against her skin.
“No man alive is luckier than I. How about you, Mrs Volkarin?” He asked grinning as he looked down at his beaming wife.
“I am happier and luckier than anyone alive, dead, undead and everything between and beyond, Mr Volkarin.” She responded before capturing his lips again, a taste she would never tire of. Forever and beyond.
