Alistair Theirin
King of Ferelden
Canon Character
Noble
Grey Warden
Post DAI Timeline
DAO/DA2 Timeline
- Posts
- 123
(OOC - Dated 17 Cloudreach, 35 Dragon)
His Royal Majesty, King Alistair Theirin, doth hereby announce his betrothal to Her Grace, Constance Carringstone Yorath, Teyrna of Gwaren, Bann of Stonewar and the Frozen Seas.
The ceremony will take place on 24 Solace, 35 Dragon, at the Grand Cathedral in Denerim, but His Most Benevolent Majesty has decreed a general celebration be observed throughout the city of Denerim, that all may share in his joy.
Let all Ferelden rejoice!
"Seriously?" Alistair stared at the document that had been placed before him. "I've never used the word 'hereby' in my life."
"Trust me, Your Majesty," Ingram assured him. "An announcement of such momentous importance must be worded in the proper fashion. We're not inviting folk to a pub crawl; after nearly four years, Ferelden will again have a queen!" And one with fashion sense, thank the Maker, he added silently.
The king couldn't really argue; he'd asked Ingram for help after several hours and several dozen pages of parchment crumpled up and thrown against the wall. "All right," he conceded. "Have the copies made and sent to..." He trailed off, looking dubiously to Ingram.
"Oh, all the nobles, of course," his valet responded promptly, "and the chantries in each town will see that the announcement is posted for all the populace to see!"
"That's going to take a lot of pigeons," Alistair observed, wondering if the Crown could be billed for cleaning fees from the fallout.
Ingram gave him a long suffering look. "Your Majesty, this wedding is -"
"I know, I know." He'd been betrothed less than a day, and elopement was already starting to sound appealing. "See that it's done."
As Ingram scurried triumphantly away, Alistair leaned back in his chair and began making private wagers with himself as to which one of his nobles would be the first to openly question his sanity. He could definitely think of more than one who wouldn't be joining in the rejoicing.
His Royal Majesty, King Alistair Theirin, doth hereby announce his betrothal to Her Grace, Constance Carringstone Yorath, Teyrna of Gwaren, Bann of Stonewar and the Frozen Seas.
The ceremony will take place on 24 Solace, 35 Dragon, at the Grand Cathedral in Denerim, but His Most Benevolent Majesty has decreed a general celebration be observed throughout the city of Denerim, that all may share in his joy.
Let all Ferelden rejoice!
"Seriously?" Alistair stared at the document that had been placed before him. "I've never used the word 'hereby' in my life."
"Trust me, Your Majesty," Ingram assured him. "An announcement of such momentous importance must be worded in the proper fashion. We're not inviting folk to a pub crawl; after nearly four years, Ferelden will again have a queen!" And one with fashion sense, thank the Maker, he added silently.
The king couldn't really argue; he'd asked Ingram for help after several hours and several dozen pages of parchment crumpled up and thrown against the wall. "All right," he conceded. "Have the copies made and sent to..." He trailed off, looking dubiously to Ingram.
"Oh, all the nobles, of course," his valet responded promptly, "and the chantries in each town will see that the announcement is posted for all the populace to see!"
"That's going to take a lot of pigeons," Alistair observed, wondering if the Crown could be billed for cleaning fees from the fallout.
Ingram gave him a long suffering look. "Your Majesty, this wedding is -"
"I know, I know." He'd been betrothed less than a day, and elopement was already starting to sound appealing. "See that it's done."
As Ingram scurried triumphantly away, Alistair leaned back in his chair and began making private wagers with himself as to which one of his nobles would be the first to openly question his sanity. He could definitely think of more than one who wouldn't be joining in the rejoicing.