"You've fought dragons." It's not a question, it's a statement. The statement of one very profoundly impressed and amused sorcerer. Ever wondered how to impress a four hundred year-old man? Fight some dragons. "Does that mean... I get to call you 'Raine the Dragon Slayer'?" Erskine asked, a little hopeful note in his voice to indicate that he was teasing. Mostly. "'Raine the Mighty'?"

He shakes his head. "Does that matter? Just because you're already living together doesn't mean you can't have a nice little party for yourselves, does it? Do you need more of a reason than a wedding?" He could see the food stands down the street, just a block or so away now, but he kept up the conversation, smiling. "Did any of us ever tell you about Dexter and Rover getting married just so they'd have an excuse to throw a party in the middle of the war?"