25. Lurielle

Lurielle

When the big day arrived at last, Lurielle was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

She'd already told everyone she knew how amazing Grace had been, how accommodating Saddlethorne's facilities were, and how easy her wedding had turned out. When Grace had called her in the middle of the afternoon, two weeks out from the big day, Lurielle had clenched in panic. The event coordinator normally emailed, occasionally texted. Calls were reserved for something serious, decisions that needed to be made immediately, small snafus that required workarounds. Her to be calling this close, set Lurielle's teeth on edge.

"I had to call and share this news with you, because frankly, an email just will not cut it." Grace's voice had been as chipper as ever, smiling and unflappable. Lurielle held her breath.

"I just got a call from the planner for the Hemming wedding. They want to book the farm for the weekend of your ceremony."

No. Lurielle reeled at her desk, grateful she was already sitting down. If the next words out of the human woman's mouth were so we're going to have to cancel, she was driving to Saddlethorne right then and there, to start setting things on fire. And then we'll move onto downtown. Sorry about your business district, Jack. Your son thinks he's the only one entitled to get married this year, so now you have to pay.

"So I told her that we did not have any availability on the Saturday she was requesting, so they'll simply have to take the Sunday. Can you even believe it?" On the other end of the line, Grace cackled. "With two weeks to go! I get to put on a brunch for the out of town families. I'm just dying over the audacity, and I thought you would appreciate it."

Everything was locked and loaded and ready to go. The tables were simple and elegant, the outdoor pavilion would be strung with lights, making it seem as if tiny, luminescent pixies were floating through the air. Her dress had been delivered by Philomel in the middle of the night, and was hanging in her closet, the color of the summer sky. The food was ordered, the drink package picked out, the flowers arriving via the Perfect Petal for Grace to assemble, and her bridal attendants had their dresses.

All she had to do now was survive.

Despite his assurance that they would be coming down for the true fire oath before the clan, part of Khash's family had arrived several days before the ceremony. Lurielle was relieved that his eldest sister and her husband, as well as the brother he was closest with and his adorable grandmother were in attendance. She could put up with his sister Khel, she'd told herself with confidence seventy-two hours earlier.

Now though, she wasn't too sure.

"Khash, I'm telling you, I'm as lost as last year's picnic egg. My brother, the big city slicker, gettin' married on a farm. Lurielle, I hope he didn't tell you any tall tales about him helping out outside in the garden when he was a boy."

His sister Khel was just as sharply barbed as she'd been last year, and Lurielle felt someone strike a match to that pool fire in her belly all over again. She smiled, beaming like the blushing bride she was, she reminded herself, and not the overprotective she-elf who would hunt her enemies, as her ancestors had been.

"Well, I wouldn't expect that he did. You don't get into that kind of school unless you keep your nose to the books night and day. But that's okay. I'm the one who picked the farm. He just needed to be able to pay for it, and trust me, it's not cheap. So it's a good thing he did all that studying."

Laughter all around, especially from her Cambric Creek friends, who knew the truth of her words. Not just the Southerners who can serve it back. After all, she had grown up in an enclave. Life in the club. She'd never been good at it, had never fit in, but she had been there. She couldn't serve up a backhanded insult as prettily as Silva likely could, but Silva wasn't there, and Lurielle was on her own. That's fine. You can do this.

She couldn't pretend that she wasn't hurt over Silva's inaction. She understood that everything was too fresh, the younger elf still too broken back in the winter months to participate in anything, but now . . . It had been months. Silva had made a shocking recovery, back in the office, back in her pretty little dresses, and apparently, back at the club. With Tannar.

If she and Ris would've taken a bet earlier that year on how long it would've taken Silva to recover from Tate's absence, Lurielle didn't know that she would've won. After all, she was young and beautiful. She had the whole world ahead of her in a very long life. But she would never have been a million years guess that Silva would have moved on as quickly as she did, with the exact opposite of Tate in every way. Tannar was the kind of elf Ris had always claimed Silva would end up with. Clean-cut, club bred. The kind of elf Lurielle hated.

She was hurt that Silva had dropped out of the wedding completely, and she could pretend otherwise. Lurielle didn't even know if she would attend. She'd not received an RSVP, and she refused to ask.

Silva and her ability to deliver up a clapback and make it sound like admiration weren't around, and Lurielle would need to make do on her own.

Now she was in the bridal salon at the back of the main farm building, sitting in the cool air conditioning as Ris did her makeup and the troll from the salon put the final touches on her hair.

Despite the fact that everything was finished, every last detail taken care of and all she needed to do was show up, even though getting the wedding over with had been her goal from the beginning and now was her chance, Lurielle felt as if she were going to hyperventilate.

Her unruly blonde hair had been fashioned into a loose twist, spiraling from the crown of her head, secured in a low ponytail that had been curled in loose waves. The troll had pulled out a box of bobby pins, each capped with pearl, scattering them through the twist.

"Look, I think we can pull off a full contour. It's really not that hot. I'm just going to need to spray the shit out of you, okay?" She glowered up at Ris, who apparently decided Lurielle no longer needed to be involved in the conversation, turning back to her bag of makeup. Hedda was on standby, ready with the shapewear, and Dynah, whom Lurielle had asked to step in for the missing Silva, was busy rearranging the water bottles on the countertop, not knowing what else to do to be helpful.

When she heard a flurry of voices behind her, Lurielle clenched, assuming it was Khash's sister, coming to carp about something else. Instead, the tinny voice of her great-grandmother gasped, squealing like the pink loving princess she still was even at her advanced age.

She struggled to stand up, nearly knocking Ris down in her haste, spinning as soon as she was upright. Instantly, her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, come on! I have even sprayed you yet!"

Her grandmother stood with her arms out, mouth open, gawking as if she were seeing the sun goddess incarnate, and not her great-granddaughter wearing cotton shorts and an oversized friends of the observatory tank top.

"Oh, my darling girl. Look at how beautiful you are."

She would apologize to Ris later, she thought as the tears fell, her nose instantly feeling stuffed up, fully knowing she was watching like a tomato as she rushed forward to embrace her tiny Nana.

"Nana, I'm so glad you're here. I wasn't to do this without you."

She was going to need a box of tissues to blow her nose, a hit of nasal spray, eye drops that would clear the redness. I'll bet wherever he is, Grayson Hemming has bought up the entire town's worth of stock on all the above.

"Oh, darling, I wouldn't have missed this for anything. This is the only reason we live this long. To see our beautiful girls grow up into beautiful women. Tír na nóg couldn't have kept me away."

Her grandmother stepped forward, holding her own arms out. "Well, darling, it looks like you did this on your own way as well. I'm sensing that to be a theme in your life, Lurielle. I cannot wait to see what a strong mother you are. And you look beautiful. I'm so pleased we could be here."

"And there's a casino right off the highway," her great-grandmother burbled, clearly a major selling point for the entire affair.

"Ladies, I'm so sorry to interrupt!" Grace's voice trilled out. "We have your very first wedding gift here, but it probably needs to wait until you're in your dress."

"We have a schedule to keep," Lurielle finished, nodding. "Say no more. Okay, Ris. Spray the shit out of me."

She glanced up in the mirror as Ris fixed the last of her makeup, touching up what had already been excreted by tears, applying a ridiculous amount of setting powder over her blush, and then standing back with the setting spray. Her mother stood over her shoulder, bottom lip trapped in her teeth, eyes filled with tears, not saying a word.

Lurielle sucked in a breath through her painstakingly whitened teeth. She had been an ugly duckling her entire life— never fitting in, never made to feel she was enough, always made to feel that she was too much. Too bookish, not vivacious enough, not sparkling enough, not enough enough. But far too much.

. . . And now she was getting married to the love of her life, none that mattered anymore. Lurielle had a feeling it never had.

"I'm glad you're here, mom."

She closed her eyes, feeling the cool mist settle over her face. Settle . . . and settle, settling until she choked.

"Okay, I think that's enough!" Ris announced cheerfully. "Let's get you into these Skivs!"

She didn't like the idea of other people seeing her in her underwear. She liked the idea of them pulling her into the internal organ-displacing shapewear even less. She liked the person who greeted her in the mirror each day, but the self-confidence required for unsupported shapewear was higher than her current weekly therapy pay grade. Once she had changed her bra and stepped into the short, they got to work.

She'd already known Ris would be the heavy hitter, but Violet certainly did her part, yanking on the top of the short as Ris pulled it over her gut.

"Come on Hedda, you gotta put up the legs. We're almost done, babe."

"You need to just smooth out this bit . . ." Her grandmother grabbed a handful of the heavy duty spandex, yanking it up her midsection. "There you are, darling. Now you'll actually be able to breathe. Someone get the dress."

The small goblin woman was panting by the time they were done, she could tell Violet was trying not to collapse into giggles. Her hair was touched up one more time, sprayed again, and then Grace was pulling out the circlet from the box she carried in.

"This is from Ranar. He really does feel terrible that he couldn't do the whole wedding."

"Lurielle, if you start crying again, I swear to Ealand . . ."

Blush colored roses, peach ranunculus, curving stems of white sage and eucalyptus. She didn't know who the beautiful stranger the mirror was. Surely good that couldn't have been her. She'd never been that girl. But maybe you are. Maybe you were all along.

"Beautiful, Lurielle. Just beautiful."

She nodded, one less deep breath. "Let's go get married."

From the moment she arrived at the lake, all she saw was him.

Not least because he was towering over everyone else in attendance, mopping his forehead with the handkerchief his brother Kesst handed him. She had no idea what she would be expected to wear to the fire oath, when they flew down to his clan. She had no idea what he would wear. She had no idea what the customs were, only that she would receive a cuff around her wrist, even though she couldn't even wear her smartwatch for more than an hour to work without it chafing and rubbing at her sensitive skin..

She had no idea what any of that would entail, today, on this day, he looked like the perfect Orcish dandy. His blue suit was several shades lighter than the one he'd worn that first night at the resort, when he'd taken her to dinner. The light colored shirt beneath his vest made his milk chocolate eyes glow, and the white and blue checked pocket square finished the look. A perfect gentleman.

Lurielle realized, as she met him beneath the tree, the willow providing a bit of shade from the sun, her long tresses dipping into the placid surface of the water, that it didn't matter what sort of scene her mother would've tried to create. She wouldn't have noticed it anyway.

She felt like she was floating . . . Until it came to their binding promises. Why the fuck did you let him convince you to write your own?

"First of all," Khash began, flashing her that same crinkled smile that he'd hooked her with that night in the sauna. "I like to thank our friends and family for making the journey here today, to be with us. To celebrate with us. To celebrate the most beautiful, tenacious, brilliant elf any of us know. When orcs take a mate, it's for life. It's not a decision you rush into. I know it may have seemed to some of you that we've rushed things along, this whole relationship, but especially in the last six months. I know my own kin likely thinks so. I'm sure the bride's family would agree. But that's by design. Darlin', I know why you wanted to get us here as quickly as you could."

There was not enough setting spray in the world that would be able to preserve her makeup. The tears began falling as soon as she turned to face him, and now they were threatening to choke her.

"You might not remember this, Lurielle, but the very first night we met, I told you your name sounded like a song. And that's what it is. It's the only song I want to sing for the rest of my life. And I know that means different things for us. And that makes the gift of you even more precious to me. I know this has been weighing on you, darlin'. But this is my binding promise to you. No matter what happens after I'm gone, no matter what you go on to do, no matter what place you go. When you're ready to rest and you kiss our greatgrandbabies goodbye, I'll be waiting for you. No matter what. No matter how long it takes, Bluebell. I'll be there waiting."

Over the sound of her own sobs, she could hear Ris crying somewhere to her side, heard the sniffles from their guests, but all she saw was him.

"You're right," she croaked. "This is something we've been weighing on me. I even have the special crying pillow just for the occasion."

Titters from the crowd, through the tears. She never looked away from his eyes.

"At first I felt stupid for not realizing what things would look like for us. Then I just panicked. Because how are we supposed to cram a whole lifetime into such a tiny amount of years? So yes, I did rush us a bit to get here. I wanted to get this part over, because in my head I thought once this was over we could actually start living our lives and making memories. I thought getting to this part was what I would want to remember. But the getting here with you was the best part of all of it. Even when I wanted to strangle you."

She was able to feel the rumble of his laughter through their clasped hands as she smiled up through the tears that never stopped falling. From somewhere behind her, Lurielle could hear her mother's voice. She heard Khash's sister's voice. And then she heard her grandmother's voice, cutting through the din.

"Oh, Volinda, will you just shut up? For once in your life?!

Khash's shoulders shook, but his laughter stayed silent. Despina had attended, saying it was worth crossing the patient/therapist line, just to celebrate how far she'd come. And now she can see what I mean. Lurielle wasn't going to turn, wasn't going to acknowledge the outburst. If her mother was being carried away by the brawny minotaur who'd been sitting on a golf cart texting just out of the way, she didn't care. She didn't want to know. He called him Kev. Worth marrying just for that. And the fucking. All she saw was him.

"My binding promise to you is that we're never going to stop laughing. We're never going to stop making memories through the mundane."

She swallowed down one of those laughs one that was brewing with a sob on its heels.

"I got caught up in the idea of those big milestone moments, but those big milestone moments are only a handful of things. Our life together happens in between, in the small moments. And that's what I want to remember. Every single day, until I'm back in your arms. No matter how long it takes."

When their hands were bound in an intricate braid, Lurielle took a deep breath, waiting for the cuff. Instead, his brother Kesst produced a ring. A long, delicate purple gemstone on a shining band, wrapped in a ribbon of gold, bearing tiny pink stones.

"But the cuff," she whispered, for his ears only.

"You're an elf, Lurielle. Our children will be part Elvish. They need to know where they come from. And you don't need to change yourself for me."

He slid the ring onto her index finger, grasping her free hand in his own before he bent and pressed his lips to hers, the familiar indent of his big tusks pressing into the apples of her cheeks. She shrieked when he scooped her up lighter than a doll.

"Darlin' my granddaddy is watchin' us right now. He didn't come all the way from his ancestor's table just to watch you give me a lil' peck like a rabbit."

Her breath caught when he swallowed her lips, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that made her toes curl in anticipation of that night. Overhead, a pop, a hiss, and an explosion. Fireworks, she realized. One more thing Grace had taken care of.

"Well, how about that, Bluebell," Khash whispered into her hair, catching her lips again. "They're playing our song."