Fanfiction – Something Beautiful II


I owe @holdhertightandsayhername​ my soul for reading this ahead and telling me I had something. It has been a while, but I’m so happy to be with them again. Just one more chapter left! X

Something Beautiful Arc I, Ficlet I, Ficlet II, Ficlet III, Ficlet IV

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Something Beautiful II

Part VIII – Flannel & Lace

There is something about wedding planning that turns reasonable and considerate people into wankers, with a tendency for cannibalization of their own kin.

We didn’t want to wait too long, so Jamie and I were perfectly content with the idea of a winter wedding. The first seven days of our engagement were blissful, wrapped as we were in the shockproof cover of a foreign country, rather like an undisturbed couple embracing inside a snow globe.

However, after our return to the reality of our common days, real life insisted on being meddlesome.

It started with Jamie being promoted at work. When he shared the news upon arriving home, a grin so large on his face that I’d come to associate mostly with wickedness between sheets, I’d arboured hope that it meant more desk duties and less time soaking in waters hell-bent on killing him.

I peppered him with kisses (“I’ll allow for some well-deserved gloating now, Duck”), proud as if I had trained him myself (industriously) to become a legendary rescuer. Soon enough I’d realize it meant exactly the same physical hazards that kept me awake at night in his absence, but longer hours doing bureaucratic work and being even more involved in recruit training.

That meant that a task devised for two committed partners quickly became a source of lonesome frustration for me.

We had just managed to select and book a venue for the wedding, before things went completely mental. It was a small estate embedded within an old forest leading to Aberdeen’s majestic shoreline, which combined enough elements of our history and joint alchemy to feel like us.

Even with that major decision laid to rest, there was still an infinite list of tasks to be perused and accomplished, that I tried to handle (somewhat ungracefully) as best as I could, although it made me feel like I was carrying the weight of a massive block to build a revered pyramid all on my own.

That particular week, we had vouched to take some serious “us” time, dealing with wedding cake tasting, honeymoon debating and flower ogling (and subsequent sneezing and eye-watering). When I woke up with a feeling of crushing dread one morning, only to receive a call from Jamie telling me he had been chosen to do some interforce cooperation in the Bering sea for a couple of weeks (his voice sorrowful, but not entirely capable of hiding a distinct sense of awe and excitement), I darkly contemplated the yellow sapphire of my engagement ring for a few minutes and dragged myself to a long shower.

The manager of the venue (a stout woman with a vigorous taste for expensive perfume) animatedly discussed the merits of lemon frosting versus chocolate ganache, but I couldn’t concentrate enough to coax my tasting buds into surrender. As I blindly glanced through the window, revealing leaden skies and biblical rain - some part of me wondering if Jamie had touched down in Alaska -, I distractedly speared and nibbled on a piece of the cake closer to my elbow.

The oily, rich and slightly smoky taste of nuts filled my mouth instantly.

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