[OTA] We Are Gathered Here | The Fox-Kattalakis Wedding

[headfollowheart]

A few things had gone wrong, honestly. There had been some confusion in the morning when they’d arrived to decorate the church - a few bouquets on the altar, some green and blue ribbons twined around a few of the posts - and it’d been locked. She’d managed to leave Spade Castle with her dress, veil, the coin from his mother strung on a thin leather thong, the emerald silk sash and Victor’s ring - but of all things, she’d managed to leave her shoes in their box in the closet, and Chives had had to go back for that. Hadyn looked a little green from his adventure shanghaiing Victor with Ben and Elisha, her cousin Sara had in usual Sara fashion managed to break the heel on her left shoe. Nerves finally hit as Chives was braiding her hair, and by the time the veil was settled over the smooth curls, her nails had left indents in her palms.

In the end, though, it was pretty much perfect. Two of her closest friends preceded her down the aisle in soft blue dresses with forget-me-nots in their braided hair and small posies in their hands. She’d walked towards her fiance on her brother’s arm with her hands full of spring flowers, and after the words were said and Victor lifted the veil, they were married. It only felt a little different than before, Zoe thought as their brief kiss ended. But it was different; she was Zoe Fox.

Zoe Fox knew, of course, that Victor Fox would have preferred them to just slip back to their apartment - no big party, no flowing wine and hors d'oeuvres - but she’d wanted something. And he’d given her carte blanche in the end, really; she’d chosen the small reception room that opened out into the Castle gardens, she’d picked the combination of hyacinths, hydragea, and lily of the valley for the table arrangements, the Greek-flavored menu of spanakopita, wild green and strawberry salad, linguine primavera and herb-encrusted lamb. She’d pored over cake designs until she finally picked a vanilla bean cake with strawberry puree filling, decorated in vanilla buttercream. She’d pruned the list of friends, family and acquaintances who might be expected to be invited to the wedding reception until they numbered barely fifty.

Under the strict supervision of Chives, of course the reception looked perfect, she thought as they arrived, and she smiled as she slipped her hand into Victor’s arm and the full skirt of her dress swirled against both of their legs. Perfect, though perfect didn’t matter quite so much to her right now.

Comments

[oneirophiliac]

"Good, good. I just kinda, y'know, worried. One of those Twos helping out pulled me over and asked me if I hadn't been threatened into my engagement." She wrinkles her nose. "Don't think I've ever spoken to him before, either."

There's an odd combination of amusement and resignation in her face at that question. "Not as much of it as he has this one, actually. I'm doing most of the work. Though I figure if I stress out from planning, he'll jump in just 'cause."

[onlytolerable]

She is an Eight to the Two's "two," so it's possible that made a difference. "Butlers are fearsome taskmasters. Isaac certainly could be." A shadow crosses her smile. "But he also was the most amazing person. I doubt Master Chives expected anything more than what he expects from everyone."

Perfection, considering he was a butler. "He helped so much, Annie. I bet he wouldn't mind sharing the load. I know it's traditional that the bride do everything, but she normally has her family helping and all the other stuff."

[oneirophiliac]

Also the maid of honour. A regular Two recruited just to help out stands no chance compared to that.

She makes a face at that. "Mom thinks it's horribly sweet that I'm marrying into an old family. If it's not traditional, she just says 'oh, it's your wedding, do as you like' and completely ignores that bit of it. Which, okay, isn't very much, really, but it kind of grates. I don't think Declán'd be the same, but..." She chews her lip. "I'd rather not risk it. You get me?"

[onlytolerable]

Old families could be horribly particular. Look at the three-ring circus Irene had thrown. "You could ask him? Unless...did you fantasize about weddings when you were younger?"

Sophie never had. She rather thinks it would be fun to talk about it with the groom. She shakes her head. Fantasy. Her road's not leading her that way.

[oneirophiliac]

She shakes her head, scrunching up her nose. "No, unless pet weddings count. Bit of old lace for a bridal veil and a paper top hat for the groom and sometimes even a bowtie if I found a ribbon."

Not many kids had talked about their weddings, even if they'd thought about it, in her memory. Certainly Declán hadn't. Maybe because he was a boy, or maybe because he was a Chives, or maybe because he just hadn't thought to speak of it to her.