It is a perfect summer day on Shell Beach. Not a cloud appears in the brilliantly blue sky, and a pleasant sea breeze keeps the sun-kissed ground comfortable
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Schreber has been nervous for days but that is nothing compared to how nervous he is while the hours tick down to the wedding. He has to keep checking his heart and sit down, but he has John and Markus around to help him keep his head. They probably lose track of how many times he asks 'what if I forgot the vows' or 'what if I drop the ring' or other disasters. Once he tells John he hopes he doesn't have a heart attack when Sarah comes down the aisle.
And then they're all up on the dais and he's almost holding his breath and there she is. She's beautiful, so beautiful all dressed up, but he looks at her face and her eyes and it's still his Sarah, the one he knows and has lived with and loved a long time already. The groom beams through the ceremony and says his vows carefully so he he only pauses for breath between the words, and then he kisses her and it's all over. Or maybe it's just started. Either way it's good
( ... )
After the trauma of the wedding, and the crowd at the reception, Courtney may find Thorn is an excellent if large wrist corsage for the rest of the occasion.
"Um. Orright. D-d-drinks're good. Wish I c-could g-g-get drunk."
Thorn will drink whatever she finds him, as he hasn't had much experience with alcohol, only enough to know his fae tolerance prohibits it as a nerve tonic. What he has had was mostly cheap, but strong, and therefore the lack of effect was noticeable.
He will try to keep Courtney sober, if gently. He needs her to lean on emotionally, after all.
She'll stay sober. A drunk witch is not a safe witch to be around.
After a couple sips of champagne, however, her eyes are drawn around the room, alighting on a very familiar old man sitting at a table across the way. Her hand clamps down painfully on Thorn's arm.
The champagne is a welcome distraction, unlike anything Thorn has ever tasted. The pleasant novelty of it takes his mind off his anxiety for a moment, until Courtney turns the tables and clings to him. "But I n-nee-" As he follows her gaze, he too sees the old man at the other table. He only met Aloysius once, and saw him from afar on a handful of occasions. The man was terrifying, a fierce protector to Courtney he feared was always angry at Thorn for having stood in for him during the 'gas leak'. He pales under the blisters and scabs, cowers a little, and clings back. "Um. 'E's... um... w-w-we could p-prob'ly g-g-go..."
"Not mine." She can't look away, although her painful grip on Thorn slowly loosens.
She wanted desperately to avoid this encounter, but it seems it was inevitable. Her gaze shifts around the room again, alighting on her younger self, standing at the edge of the dance floor with her version of Thorn. The two girls' eyes meet for a moment, a look of strange understanding passing between them.
The older Courtney gives a jerky nod, and the younger seems to relax slightly.
"I can't go," she turns back to Thorn. "Not like this. Running from it is pointless." She releases him and gets up, downing the rest of her champagne in one gulp. "Maybe you should wait here a minute."
The ways of Courtney Crumrin are sometimes inscrutable to Thorn, who always prefers to run unless his friends are threatened or his back is against the wall. He thinks she is brave, but sometimes to a point that she does not need to be.
"Um. Ye s-s-sure ye d-don't want... m-m-me to come with ye?" His words end almost in a gasp, as his anxious gaze flickers between her and the distant, frail figure. What on earth he expects he needs to protect her against is hard to say. Herself, perhaps.
And then they're all up on the dais and he's almost holding his breath and there she is. She's beautiful, so beautiful all dressed up, but he looks at her face and her eyes and it's still his Sarah, the one he knows and has lived with and loved a long time already. The groom beams through the ceremony and says his vows carefully so he he only pauses for breath between the words, and then he kisses her and it's all over. Or maybe it's just started. Either way it's good ( ... )
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"Um. Orright. D-d-drinks're good. Wish I c-could g-g-get drunk."
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He will try to keep Courtney sober, if gently. He needs her to lean on emotionally, after all.
Reply
After a couple sips of champagne, however, her eyes are drawn around the room, alighting on a very familiar old man sitting at a table across the way. Her hand clamps down painfully on Thorn's arm.
"I shouldn't have come."
Reply
He pales under the blisters and scabs, cowers a little, and clings back. "Um. 'E's... um... w-w-we could p-prob'ly g-g-go..."
Reply
She wanted desperately to avoid this encounter, but it seems it was inevitable. Her gaze shifts around the room again, alighting on her younger self, standing at the edge of the dance floor with her version of Thorn. The two girls' eyes meet for a moment, a look of strange understanding passing between them.
The older Courtney gives a jerky nod, and the younger seems to relax slightly.
"I can't go," she turns back to Thorn. "Not like this. Running from it is pointless." She releases him and gets up, downing the rest of her champagne in one gulp. "Maybe you should wait here a minute."
Reply
"Um. Ye s-s-sure ye d-don't want... m-m-me to come with ye?" His words end almost in a gasp, as his anxious gaze flickers between her and the distant, frail figure. What on earth he expects he needs to protect her against is hard to say. Herself, perhaps.
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