Fanfic: Wedding Jitters
Her heart pounded loudly against her chest.
Okay, she thought, breathe...
She took a deep breath. It didn't have any effect on her nerves. She still felt disoriented when the studied her reflection in the mirror -- her red locks of hair were tied up into a secure bun; a petite silver tiara decorated her head; and a strapless white gown flowed softly away from her waist until it touched the ground.
Today was the day. Today was the day when they would finally start their new lives together.
Anticipation fluttered inside her. A shiver crawled up her spine. She had waited so long for this moment -- she'd been certain that Fakir was "the one," that he was the person she wanted to spent the rest of her life with. And now, here she was, ready and waiting for the wedding ceremony to start. The whole thing was so surreal. After today, she would be Fakir's wife. The word echoed in her head: wife, wife, wife...
Someone gave a light knock at the door.
"Ah," Ahiru called, "come in!"
Creeeak. Pique opened the door just enough to poke her head in. "Hey, it's almost time to go."
"Mm," Ahiru nodded.
"Don't you have a veil or something?" Pique noted, stepping into the room.
"Well, I..." the bride gave a weak laugh. "I couldn't figure out how to get it on right..."
Her friend sighed, searching the room until she found the sheer piece of fabric stuffed under one of the brown cushions on the sofa. "Ah-! Ahiru, what did you do?" she demanded, lifting the wrinkled veil up with an expression of horror.
"I-I told you, I couldn't figure out how to get it on straight!" Ahiru stammered. "I was nervous and frustrated, okay?"
"So you stuffed it under a pillow and called it a day?" Pique sighed again. She ran her fingers over the garment and gently pulled its edges in an effort to straighten it out. "Honestly..." she murmured, approaching the mirror.
While she continued to rebuke Ahiru over the pillow incident, Pique adjusted the veil and set it in place. It was still crinkled in spots, but it completed the ensemble, and Pique couldn't help but smile at the results.
"There," she squeezed Ahiru's shoulders in a gesture of reassurance. "Now let's go have ourselves a wedding!"
"Yeah..." the bride felt her cheeks flush. "I'm ready."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dammit!" Fakir blurted.
He threw the crumpled strand of black ribbon onto the chair beside him. How hard could it be to tie a stupid bow tie?
He was letting his nerves get the best of him. He knew that. But it was impossible to stay calm at the idea of Ahiru being his wife. He loved that idiot so much he couldn't stand it, and after today he would have her all to himself...
"Fakir, are you in there?" Without waiting for an answer, Charon opened the door and entered. "It's about time to leave..." his voice trailed off when he saw how flustered the groom looked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Fakir snatched up the ribbon and attempted to tie it once more.
After a few moments of angry fidgeting, it ended up looking like a crooked blob of some sort. Fakir clenched his teeth and heard a hearty laugh explode behind him.
"Come now," Charon walked towards the boy, "let me help you with that."
Fakir didn't argue. Instead, he quietly allowed his father-figure to tie the bow correctly. Both men looked in the glass mirror. Charon commented that Fakir looked very handsome and Ahiru would be proud to have him as her husband. The words prompted a subtle grin from Fakir, and he nodded in appreciation of the compliment.
"Well, now that that's settled," Charon gave the groom a friendly pat on the back, "we really should get going."
"Yeah," Fakir's eyes glistened in spite of his nerves. "I'm ready."
- end -
Okay, she thought, breathe...
She took a deep breath. It didn't have any effect on her nerves. She still felt disoriented when the studied her reflection in the mirror -- her red locks of hair were tied up into a secure bun; a petite silver tiara decorated her head; and a strapless white gown flowed softly away from her waist until it touched the ground.
Today was the day. Today was the day when they would finally start their new lives together.
Anticipation fluttered inside her. A shiver crawled up her spine. She had waited so long for this moment -- she'd been certain that Fakir was "the one," that he was the person she wanted to spent the rest of her life with. And now, here she was, ready and waiting for the wedding ceremony to start. The whole thing was so surreal. After today, she would be Fakir's wife. The word echoed in her head: wife, wife, wife...
Someone gave a light knock at the door.
"Ah," Ahiru called, "come in!"
Creeeak. Pique opened the door just enough to poke her head in. "Hey, it's almost time to go."
"Mm," Ahiru nodded.
"Don't you have a veil or something?" Pique noted, stepping into the room.
"Well, I..." the bride gave a weak laugh. "I couldn't figure out how to get it on right..."
Her friend sighed, searching the room until she found the sheer piece of fabric stuffed under one of the brown cushions on the sofa. "Ah-! Ahiru, what did you do?" she demanded, lifting the wrinkled veil up with an expression of horror.
"I-I told you, I couldn't figure out how to get it on straight!" Ahiru stammered. "I was nervous and frustrated, okay?"
"So you stuffed it under a pillow and called it a day?" Pique sighed again. She ran her fingers over the garment and gently pulled its edges in an effort to straighten it out. "Honestly..." she murmured, approaching the mirror.
While she continued to rebuke Ahiru over the pillow incident, Pique adjusted the veil and set it in place. It was still crinkled in spots, but it completed the ensemble, and Pique couldn't help but smile at the results.
"There," she squeezed Ahiru's shoulders in a gesture of reassurance. "Now let's go have ourselves a wedding!"
"Yeah..." the bride felt her cheeks flush. "I'm ready."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dammit!" Fakir blurted.
He threw the crumpled strand of black ribbon onto the chair beside him. How hard could it be to tie a stupid bow tie?
He was letting his nerves get the best of him. He knew that. But it was impossible to stay calm at the idea of Ahiru being his wife. He loved that idiot so much he couldn't stand it, and after today he would have her all to himself...
"Fakir, are you in there?" Without waiting for an answer, Charon opened the door and entered. "It's about time to leave..." his voice trailed off when he saw how flustered the groom looked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Fakir snatched up the ribbon and attempted to tie it once more.
After a few moments of angry fidgeting, it ended up looking like a crooked blob of some sort. Fakir clenched his teeth and heard a hearty laugh explode behind him.
"Come now," Charon walked towards the boy, "let me help you with that."
Fakir didn't argue. Instead, he quietly allowed his father-figure to tie the bow correctly. Both men looked in the glass mirror. Charon commented that Fakir looked very handsome and Ahiru would be proud to have him as her husband. The words prompted a subtle grin from Fakir, and he nodded in appreciation of the compliment.
"Well, now that that's settled," Charon gave the groom a friendly pat on the back, "we really should get going."
"Yeah," Fakir's eyes glistened in spite of his nerves. "I'm ready."
- end -