They had broken the news of their engagement to Tarcanus Frostbourne, and his gleeful reaction hadn’t entirely taken Ana by surprise. What had, however, was his explosion of ideas for the wedding itself. He’d asked if they had talked about things, namely the date, the venue and the ceremony itself to which Ana had replied, “Well, we haven’t discussed the details yet, although… Tindómiel wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about the prospect of a large wedding. So…”
Tindómiel had closed his eyes and sighed. ”Well, you see…” He’d snickered and licked his lips as he often did, but what he’d said next would serve to be his famous last words on the subject. ”After thinking on it, I’m much less.. concerned with how that will be. So long as you’re there and those magical words are spoken, I’ll be quite fine.”
“Oh. It will be epic.”
And that had only been the beginning.
“Roses! Candles! Arrangements! Tuxedoes! Dresses! Motorcoaches! A magic PUMPKIN! Streamers! Fireworks! FIRE DANCERS! Torches! COLORS! LIGHTS! DECORATIONS! A.. parade!”
Tindómiel had looked afraid for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slowly while Ana had stood there torn between comforting him and laughing at the craziness of it all.
“Tarc, please. Tarc, calm down a moment. Let’s not blow this out of proportion.”
“HOUSE SINGSORROW WILL BE KNOWN FOR HAVING THE MOST FABULOUS WEDDINGS EVER!”
Oh Tarcanus, you crazy flamboyant mage, you.