Sophie Berthier (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onlytolerable) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
houseofcards_rp2013-12-22 09:25 pm
onlytolerable) wrote in houseofcards_rp2013-12-22 09:25 pm
[OTA] Now join your hands, and with your hands your hearts
(Fitzgerald-Berthier Wedding)
It's been a long road from asking to wedding, Sophie thinks as she watches the stylist add the last touches to her hair. Adrien had wanted the wedding close to Sophie's birthday, but then Silas had talked about stepping down and there was the very real chance Cadogan might have been asked to fill his shoes. They'd decided to postpone. Then there'd been Lotty - and another postponing. She looks at the ceiling and wills tears away. The last thing her sister would have wanted was to ruin an excuse for a perfectly good party.
And so here they are, with Sophie looking like an Edwardian lady in Claire Pettibone and her bridesmaids like iced petit fours in sage and peach respectively. Other than the butterflies performing an aerial show in her stomach, she's surprisingly free of nerves. Nothing has felt so right to her as loving Adrien. The wedding is just one more step in that, a chance to tell the world how she feels. She's even stopped worrying about tripping down the aisle.
Not that Cadogan, who she'd asked to escort her down the aisle, would ever allow that to happen. No, she arrives safe in one piece before he leaves her side to take up his place as Adrien's Best Man. He looked handsome in his morning suit, though not so handsome as the groom. She gives Adrien a blinding smile, one that's returned to her full-force. He's been like a kid at a candy store ever since they'd begun planning. Utterly sweet, she thinks, and, well... surprising. She feels stupidly gooey inside (like one of those ridiculous romance heroines) just knowing he wants this as much as she does. Not that he'll hear that from her, at least not without prying. A woman needs to have some secrets.
All in all, she thinks later as she and Adrien leave the chapel as newly married couple, everyone and everything looks lovely. The chapel has never smelled so sweet as it has today with the profusion of peonies, roses and hyacinths. Sitara has never looked so adorable as she does in her sage flower girl dress. Adrien can't have been more charming and handsome.
A day made of superlatives, with an equally astounding evening ahead of them. She brushes a soft kiss along her--her husband's!--cheek. Never has anyone been so lucky.
It's been a long road from asking to wedding, Sophie thinks as she watches the stylist add the last touches to her hair. Adrien had wanted the wedding close to Sophie's birthday, but then Silas had talked about stepping down and there was the very real chance Cadogan might have been asked to fill his shoes. They'd decided to postpone. Then there'd been Lotty - and another postponing. She looks at the ceiling and wills tears away. The last thing her sister would have wanted was to ruin an excuse for a perfectly good party.
And so here they are, with Sophie looking like an Edwardian lady in Claire Pettibone and her bridesmaids like iced petit fours in sage and peach respectively. Other than the butterflies performing an aerial show in her stomach, she's surprisingly free of nerves. Nothing has felt so right to her as loving Adrien. The wedding is just one more step in that, a chance to tell the world how she feels. She's even stopped worrying about tripping down the aisle.
Not that Cadogan, who she'd asked to escort her down the aisle, would ever allow that to happen. No, she arrives safe in one piece before he leaves her side to take up his place as Adrien's Best Man. He looked handsome in his morning suit, though not so handsome as the groom. She gives Adrien a blinding smile, one that's returned to her full-force. He's been like a kid at a candy store ever since they'd begun planning. Utterly sweet, she thinks, and, well... surprising. She feels stupidly gooey inside (like one of those ridiculous romance heroines) just knowing he wants this as much as she does. Not that he'll hear that from her, at least not without prying. A woman needs to have some secrets.
All in all, she thinks later as she and Adrien leave the chapel as newly married couple, everyone and everything looks lovely. The chapel has never smelled so sweet as it has today with the profusion of peonies, roses and hyacinths. Sitara has never looked so adorable as she does in her sage flower girl dress. Adrien can't have been more charming and handsome.
A day made of superlatives, with an equally astounding evening ahead of them. She brushes a soft kiss along her--her husband's!--cheek. Never has anyone been so lucky.
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She doesn't begrudge any of those who drag him away for a dance or conversation or a private joke or well wishes. Everybody should have an Adrien in their life. Everyone should feel as happy as she does right now.
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Because big brother is absolutely going to ask for a dance. He's absolutely going to tell her again how proud and happy he is to see them both here, to have been asked to be a part of it.
It's just first? First the glowing, beautiful bride is going to need to be hugged.
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There's a faint snort for her warning. Anyone else wouldn't have been humoured, but they both know Adrien will be. Either way, that's later. Now is for a careful tug at her elbow. Come dance with him?
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"Thank you."
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Clicking his tongue at her is easy. What is the world is there to thank him for?
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Deciding to allow two dented and discarded people into his life.
"Did you think we'd make it here?" She hadn't, not in a million years. Arriving here had been so far from the goal of simply loving him that she'd never so much as thought about it. "Tell me I won't mess this up."
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For now, however, he's got to take them briefly back. To shift, first, and press their foreheads together--because taking back his hands means they'll have to keep dancing with connected foreheads.
/You won't. You'll just be happy./
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It certainly isn't going to stop her finding a moment to squeeze the bride's arm with a warmly maternal sort of joy.
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"I'm so happy!"
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"As you should be, darling girl." A tight, happy squeeze back it absolutely is. "An' may it go on the rest of your lifetime."
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She tucks her arm through the older woman's. "Let's sit. I'm still half afraid I'll topple over in these heels." Her gaze searches the room for the other man in her life. "Poor Cadogan. I had him convinced Adrien had decided on ascots--sage with peach roses--for the longest time. Then the silly man went and took pity on him and told him I was only teasing."
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Holding tight is absolutely in order. Chuckling softly is as well. "You two be nice to that boy. He's more than in love with both of you, cariad."
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"I am! I wouldn't have thought I'd feel so different, but I do." She searches for her husband(!) among the crowd. "I don't know who's more surprised to be here, him or me. Has he snagged you for a dance yet?"
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Somehow Peter's dances ended sooner than Adrien's, but she didn't begrudge him, especially since it was because he kept looking at his wife.
"You look absolutely stunning," she tells Sophie as she adjusts the sleeve of her dress. "Have I thanked you today for not making me do another blue and silver wedding?" There was nothing wrong with blue and silver; it was stunning, a classic. But she did three weddings in those colors a year.
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She looks down. Lotty would have been with them then. "It's a good party, no thanks to me. You know I'd rather hole up with a few select friends for a quiet evening. Thank you. Everything's just right. Oh, dear. Now I sound like Goldilocks."
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"We would have all frozen. It's gorgeous in here, anyway. You wouldn't have any idea that it was the same room Peter and Irene used."
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"There's no such thing as too many flowers at a wedding," she added practically. "Just like there's no such thing as too much champagne or too many lovestruck looks between the bride and groom."
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"Congratulations, Sophie."
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