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Baz nearly collapses into the chair next to me, but manages to make it look elegant and graceful as always. Nobody else would know that he’s as tired as I know he is. We both are– it’s been an incredibly long week. Between preparations, last-minute seating arrangement changes, and a near catastrophe with the baker we’ve gotten very little sleep or time alone. Today may be the happiest day we’ve shared, but there are just so many people, and it’s wearing us both down.
How do we even know so many people? Given, most of them are Baz’s Grimm relations and former classmates of ours from Watford, but there’s well over one-hundred people here.
Maybe some of them are crashers looking for free cake? I would seriously consider it myself if I wasn’t invited and knew what Baz had arranged for catering.
I scoot my chair as close to his as I can and lean my body into his side resting my head into the crook of his shoulder and neck. I take one of his hands in mine as he wraps the other arm around me, holding me close, reminding me that no matter where we are I’ll always be home with him.
“Made all of your rounds of ‘thank yous’ to your family now?” I ask him. The music is a bit loud to hold much of an intimate conversation, but we’re close enough that it’s not too difficult.
“I did, Snow. Thank you for all of your overwhelming help and support with that, by the way.” He presses a kiss to the top of my curls, giving me a little squeeze. “Fiona will be around later to give you grief about not coming around with me.”
“Fiona doesn’t scare me, I can take her,” I say facetiously. Fi has come to love me, and is the only one brave enough to still test my skills with a blade. “And you can’t call me Snow anymore, darling,” I tease him. We both know he’ll never stop calling me that, to get a rise out of me if nothing else.
“I most certainly can and will,” He replies with a smile on his lips. “If you thought for a moment that taking the Pitch name was going to be the reason I stopped calling you Snow, then you may have gotten married under false pretenses.”
“Didn’t marry you for your name, you git,” I’m trying to come off as defensive but it doesn’t come out as anything but soft and adoring. Because that’s what Baz and I are now. “But it would be nice if for one day you could drop it and pretend to hold anything but annoyance and contempt for me, ” I add, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even if there are a lot of people here for you to impress. I think they know now that you might like me, at least a little.”
“Contempt is not a feeling I have held for you in a very very long time, and you know it,” he affirms. “And of course they know. They quite fucking literally just witnessed the last Pitch heir marry the Chosen One.” He lifts my hand, kissing my knuckles. “And I don’t have anyone to impress here except you. And possibly Bunce.”
Just then, our DJ has turned down the music to make an announcement. Not just any announcement, but the invitation for the guests to watch Mr. and Mr. Snow-Pitch join in their first dance together as husbands.
“I thought I told this numpty that we weren’t going to have a public first dance,” Baz hisses, holding his composure for public appearance but I can tell he’s startled. As far as he knew, I hadn’t wanted to have a public first dance because I am hopeless at even the most basic dance steps. He also doesn’t know that I’ve been working for months to surprise him tonight, at just this moment.
I turn my head slightly to look up at him instead of out at the crowd of our friends and family clearing the dance floor for us. He’s always so concerned with how I feel, putting me first before his own desires. I know he secretly wanted to have a first dance together, despite my two left feet.
I spin out of my chair, dragging him with me. “Come on, Mr. Snow-Pitch. I’ll be fine. I’ll try my best not to embarrass you.” His eyes dance just a little at the mention of our newly combined name.
“Do you think you can pop just your tail?” He asks me as he leads me to the dance floor. I spelled in both wings and tail for today, so my tux would fit properly.
I feel for our magic and bring just my tail out. It’s one of two spells that I can do without my wand.
I’m not sure if any of the guests are shocked to see a red cartoon devil’s tail spring from my backside, but Baz is coiling it around his wrist and he is the only person I have eyes for.
“Sentimental fool,” I chuckle at him.
“A true romantic, I know,” he says, pressing the hand holding my tail into my back and taking my hand with the opposite hand. I place my other hand on his shoulder, the way he taught me the first time we danced at his leavers ball.
“No more worries about everyone knowing that we’re gay?” I ask him. It was the first thing he worried about the first time we danced together in public.
Even though I know he wanted to, I don’t think he would have led me out to dance if I hadn’t pushed first. I’ve been useless, lost in my head for a long time, but pushing Baz in any sort of challenge has always been my failsafe. Fighting or kissing, I’ve always been the one to forge ahead when he is filled with self-doubt.
“That horse left the barn a long time ago.” He’s quoting my own response from that night back to me. I don’t know how he has such a flawless memory. I briefly wonder if that’s a vampire thing. He’s still cagey about what all his supernatural advantages are, just to mess with me. Thinks it’s funny.
The DJ has queued up the song I secretly requested him to play for our first dance. Nick Cave, “Into My Arms”. It’s been our song ever since his leavers ball.
He raises that insufferable eyebrow at me, silently accusing me of plotting. (He’s right, I definitely did. For months.)
“Just lead, Pitch. You know you want to.” I need him to lead, I’ve been practicing as the partner and I’m not sure I can pull this off if I have to lead.
Baz leads us into a basic slow step, two steps left and two back again. Last time he danced with me he reminded me how hopeless I am at dancing. For all of my defensive and offensive stance practice with my sword over the years, the coordination of being battle-ready never transferred to my ability to dance.
“Snow, have you been keeping something from me?”
“Of course, darling. I can’t tell you all of my secrets. Which is further proof against your vampire mind-reading lies.”
He rolls his eyes, otherwise ignoring my vampire jab. “Well, you’re doing remarkably well. I’m impressed,” he says, pulling me in a little closer.
“You’ll be more impressed when I take the lead,” I say with a wink. “We’re going to Waltz, I hope you can keep up.”
With that, I lead Baz into a slow box step. It’s nothing incredibly fancy, but he knows as well as I do that a year ago I couldn’t even manage the slow two-step without stepping on his feet.
“When have you found the time to practice? How and with who?” He is absolutely dumbfounded, and I’m loving it. Living my absolute best life right now in this moment, knowing that I’ve surprised Basilton Snow-Pitch on our wedding day. This will be a story we tell our children someday.
“Penny caught me practicing by myself while you were out at classes a couple of months ago.” I tell him, “I’d been watching videos on Youtube trying to teach myself how to slow dance, but I was still hopeless, ” I admit, chuckling to myself at the memory of trying to dance with an imaginary partner. “After she finished laughing at me, she offered to help be my practice partner. We’ve been practicing twice a week on your late nights ever since.”
“You’ve been practicing dancing,” he says in genuine disbelief, “for months to surprise me today.” It’s a statement, not a question. It’s obvious that’s exactly what I’ve done.
“Surprised?” I ask. I know he is.
“I would have been happy not sharing our first dance in front of everyone, you know. You didn’t have to do this,” he pauses a moment, considering, “but, yes, I am surprised. And I love you. I love you more every day. I thought maybe the moment you said ‘I do’ would be the moment that my capacity for loving you was reached,” he whispers it in my ear, a secret just for us. “But as it turns out, I love you more now than I did 10 minutes ago. And I will love you more in 10 minutes than I do right now.”
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite,” I say it without magic, the spell that bound us together by magic years ago. I’m shite with spell work, mercifully better now than I was at Watford, but I will never forget that spell.
As the song draws to an end, I realize that we’ve stopped moving at some point. Baz draws me in close, kissing me soft and slow, right there in front of everyone. He doesn’t often like to do much more than hold hands in public, but I suppose today is special and we’re allowed to be as publicly in love as we’d like.
The DJ is inviting guests back to the dance floor as Baz is tugging me across the floor and out a side door.
“Where are we going?” I hiss at him.
“I’m about to show you how boundless my bounty is, Mr. Snow-Pitch.”
“Oh. Well then. Carry on, Baz.”