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It was gorgeous. It was perfect. It was the best possible day for a wedding, and Lexa was congratulating herself on her flawless planning while she waited for everyone else to arrive. The venue was stunning, and most importantly right now, the coffee was really amazing, and really bottomless. She wrapped herself around her third cup and smiled when Anya slid into the chair across from her.
“So, the florist cancelled,” Anya sighed. Lexa’s grip on her mug tightened and she shook her head to clear a wisp of panic.
“That’s fine,” Lexa said. “We have plenty of decor, the flowers would have been too much.”
“She was bringing the centerpieces.” Lexa took a slow breath.
“This is fine,” she said. She refilled her mug.
----
Lincoln’s only job was to bring his suit and stand where Lexa told him to. And, to his credit, he could handle most of that. But when he rolled up to Lexa’s side in a wheelchair, leg propped in front of him and wrapped in a thick cast, Lexa had to take a deep breath, tilting her face up, eyes rolling to stare at the sky. He didn’t say anything. Anya bit her lip.
“Were you going to tell me you broke your leg?” Lexa asked him.
“I um,” Lincoln cleared his throat. “I broke my leg.” They were quiet. Lexa focused on the clouds above them. Anya coughed.
“At least you got a black cast,” she offered. “You know, to match your suit. You did -- you brought a suit, right?”
“Of course I brought a suit,” he scowled. “It’s just, do you think you could get it from Octavia? There are stairs.”
“Oh god,” Lexa sighed. “There are stairs everywhere. Are you even going to make it down the aisle?” Lincoln looked uncomfortable. Anya wrapped her hands around the wheelchair’s handles and pushed him into a rough turn.
“I’m on it,” she grunted. “We’re going to get him down the aisle now. He’ll just have to wait there until we’re ready, won’t he?”
“That’s fine,” Lexa nodded. She turned away from them and nodded again to herself.
----
Bellamy was cradling a bottle of Gatorade when Clarke walked into the bridal suite, and he gave her a look that clearly said, ‘please don’t, I’m broken.’ She tried to cover her smirk as she walked straight to the closet to hang her dress. Octavia was on the phone, curled up in a chair in the far corner of the room.
“So what, they just left you there?” she heard her saying. She looked up and waved a distracted hand at Clarke, who raised a curious eyebrow, but didn’t ask. Bellamy was whimpering on the couch as he curled into a ball and hugged his knees to his chest.
“You guys know I’m getting married today,” Clarke said, to no one in particular. Octavia was scowling into her phone and Bellamy was trying to drink from his bottle while not lifting his head or opening his eyes. Clarke sighed and settled herself next to him on the couch, leaning to lay most of her body on top of him and closing her eyes. She hadn’t slept more than fifteen consecutive minutes the night before, worried about all the things that could go wrong, and distracted by a cold bed. But Lexa had everything handled, and all she had to do was put on a dress and walk down an aisle. She was worried today would have been a little more frantic.
She couldn’t pinpoint when exactly she had fallen asleep there, but she knew for certain when she woke up to the door slamming and her mother’s voice snapping her name impatiently. She sat up slowly and Bellamy looked like he might cry.
“You’re getting married in two hours, Clarke,” Abby shouted. “Did you know that?”
“Am I?” Clarke grumbled as she crawled off the couch and pushed her chin to the side until her neck popped.
“Where is everyone? Is everything done? Are you going to do your hair?”
“Lexa is handling everything, Mom.”
“Lexa is going to do your hair?”
“No, of course she isn’t. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Abby had her fists on her hips.
“I don’t know, do I? It is my only daughter’s wedding day, and it looks like I’m the only one in this room who - Bellamy - knows the sun did in fact rise this morning.” Bellamy grunted weakly and sat up on the couch, and Clarke rubbed his shoulder soothingly.
“Be nice to him, he’s trying,” Clarke admonished. “Have you eaten, Bell?” He shook his head and looked a little green. Abby was pacing.
“Octavia,” Abby snapped, and Octavia scrambled off her chair, shoving her phone into her back pocket. “To do,” Abby dictated. Octavia looked around frantically for paper, or a pen, or a can of spray paint, anything. She found nothing, and just stood straighter in the middle of the room, chin high, waiting for instruction. “One: Clarke’s hair looks like she just crawled out of bed. Which she might have. Two: Clarke’s makeup. Did you bring makeup, Clarke? You can’t go out there like that. Three: Clarke’s dress. You know what, scratch two and three, make number one just ‘Clarke.’” Octavia’s eyes were wide and panicked.
“Mom,” Clarke sighed.
“Four - no, two,” Abby continued. “I have a hotel lobby full of family I don’t even know, and someone has to entertain them because none of their rooms are ready.”
“What do you want her to do, dance for them?” Now Clarke was pacing too.
“Three: No one has even tried to feed the bridal party. What do I have to do to get a sandwich platter? What kind of establishment did you book here, Clarke?”
“Okay,” Clarke shouted. “You’re out.” Abby turned to her looking confused. “I am getting married today, and you can’t be here right now.” Abby looked torn between frustration and hurt.
“I am trying to help you, Clarke,” she said.
“I know,” Clarke nodded. She turned to Bellamy, who nodded slowly and stood up, crossing his arms. Abby looked offended and shot a glare at her daughter before she turned and stormed out of the room. “Keep her out of trouble,” Clarke nodded at Bellamy, who sighed and trudged out after her. Octavia hadn’t moved. Clarke wondered if she was breathing.
----
“What do you mean, you can’t make it?” Lexa was gripping her cell phone so tightly, she was surprised it hadn’t already cracked. She pressed it hard into her ear and closed her eyes. She reached a hand out to grope blindly for a chair, and she lowered herself slowly onto the nearest seat she found. “You have to make it.” Anya and Raven were watching her quietly from the other side of the room. “This is not a request,” Lex was shaking her head. “This is literally your only job. Do not -- Excuse me -- Oh, that’s really big of you -- Hey -- Listen to me.” Her face scrunched together and she let out a sigh through her nose.
“Good news?” Raven called softly.
“The minister will not be arriving,” Lexa tugged on the collar of her shirt.
“That’s,” Anya stopped herself when Lexa nodded. Raven had her head tilted to the side.
“We do not have an officiant,” Lexa said. “We won’t,” she paused. “We won’t be getting married today.”
“Hang on,” Raven held up her hand. “Okay, wait.” Anya raised her eyebrows, and Raven got up to head towards the door. “I need to make a few calls. I’ll meet you all the altar.”
“This could be going better,” Anya said, and Lexa shook her head.
“This is -- this is fine.”
----
“I’m getting married in two hours,” Clarke hissed at Octavia, who was slightly taken aback by the wide, hysterical eyes in front of her. “And I just took a nap .” Clarke was distraught.
“You’re going to need to let me catch up,” Octavia shook her head. “You were fine like, literal seconds ago.”
“I was fine,” Clarke wheezed. “Where’s my dress?”
“It’s right here.”
“I don’t even have a brush.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Who even invited my mother?”
“I’m sure you had a say in this.”
Clarke was pacing as she muttered, “I don’t know where to start.” She was stopped by Octavia’s fist slamming into her shoulder.
“Get it together, Griffin,” she barked.
“You hit me really hard.”
“Shut up,” Octavia snapped. “I’m going to do your hair, and I’m not going to chase you around the room.”
“You’re not allowed to punch a bride,” Clarke said.
----
Lexa [2:47pm]: You sent your mother to me.
Clarke [2:47pm]: Not directly.
Lexa [2:48pm]: I am a little busy today.
Clarke [2:52pm]: Give her a job.
Lexa [2:53pm]: I cannot run interference for you right now, Clarke.
Clarke [2:53pm]: I don’t believe you.
Lexa closed her eyes and put her phone down. This was fine.
----
There was a strong possibility that Lexa had stopped breathing. Completely. She knew that this was probably not true because she was pretty sure she was still standing, but her chest felt heavy and prickly, and she had to remind herself to continue blinking. The crowd in front of her parted as she walked shakily into the packed bar, and everyone was very deliberately not making eye contact. That was nice, at least. She settled her arms on top of the bar and waved down a bartender. She had finally hit a point in the day where she was no longer stressing about all of the details that most certainly weren’t coming together. She hit a disconcerting level of calm, where the only thoughts running through her head were “ this is a nightmare,” and “ why doesn’t anyone warn you that this is a nightmare? ”
She was halfway through a whiskey that she didn’t remember ordering when she saw Raven across the bar, handing shots out to the small crowd around her. Lexa closed her eyes until she felt a shoulder brush her own.
“Good?” Bellamy settled beside her, leaning heavily on his elbows and waving the bartender away with a grimace.
“Sure,” Lexa shrugged. “It’s fine,” and then, “Is that Abby?” Bellamy looked a little embarrassed. Raven had her arm around Abby at the other end of the bar, speaking very seriously, and pushing shots into her hands. Abby looked a little pink, but she was only scowling a little, and that was really the best Lexa had hoped for today.
“Clarke kicked her out.” Lexa nodded.
“How long have they been drinking?”
“Uh,” Bellamy squinted across the bar with a hand on the back of his neck. Raven caught Lexa’s eye from across the bar and cheered.
“A bride!” she shouted, shoving through the slightly wobbly crowd to stand beside them. She nodded at Lexa’s glass. “Good idea.”
“Are you drunk?” Lexa asked, trying to figure out the best way to explain to Clarke why their entire wedding was already wasted.
“Bellamy’s tab,” Raven shrugged, and Bellamy coughed and looked away. “Gotchu covered, though,” she continued. “You just haul your sweet ass up that aisle, I’ll handle the rest.”
An unsteady guest listed to the side and knocked into Lexa’s arm, splashing the whiskey in her glass down the front of her vest. She closed her eyes as Raven gasped and covered her mouth.
“It’s fine.”
----
“Octavia, why is your dress orange?” Lexa was frozen in the doorway, down to her shirt and suspenders, stained vest hung over her arm. Octavia frowned at her and adjusted the strap of her dress.
“Because this is what the dress shop sent me,” Octavia said slowly. Lexa took a shaky step into the room, eyes wide.
“Right,” Lexa said. “But why is it orange?”
“I don’t understand the question, Lexa.” Octavia was struggling with one of her shoes when Raven walked in behind Lexa and stopped dead, hand reaching out to grip Lexa’s shoulder.
“Octavia,” Raven said, and Octavia left out an exaggerated sigh. She looked up and her mouth dropped open. Lexa squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand into the side of her face.
“Raven,” Octavia waved an arm. “You’re not wearing orange.”
“Nobody is wearing orange,” Raven said.
“Why is my dress orange?” Octavia’s voice cracked and her face was noticeably panicked.
“It’s okay,” Lexa said, eyes still closed, breathing very deliberately. “It’s okay, this is fine.”
----
“I thought you had today covered,” Clarke said into her phone, sitting very still inside her bridal suite, beside a very uncomfortable Octavia.
“ I do,” Lexa said on the other end of the line.
“Octavia is sitting in front of me.”
“Minor aesthetic setback,” Lexa said smoothly. “ Nobody will be looking at her anyway. Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
“Anya dropped by,” Clarke said, and the line went quiet.
“ Everything is fine,” Lexa said again. Clarke sighed and put the phone down.
“It could be going better,” Octavia nodded hesitantly.
----
Lexa stormed into the bar and grabbed the glass from Anya’s hand before it made it to her lips. “Traitor,” she growled.
“That woman is a force,” Anya said, not a little bit apologetic.
“You told her everything,” Lexa continued to growl.
“I’ve never seen anyone deal with their wedding day like Clarke Griffin,” Anya grabbed the glass back. “She’s in there preparing for war. She’s terrifying.”
“I’ve seen you break a man’s hand for gesturing rudely at someone who wasn’t even you, and you’re scared of Clarke.”
“I’m not scared of Clarke.”
“You told her everything!”
“It’s not like it’s a secret, Lexa. It’s not like she’s not going to find out you don’t have a minister when she walks up to the altar.”
The lights dimmed in the bar abruptly, and Anya looked up at the ceiling.
“That was a weird mood lighting choice,” she murmured before the lights flickered and went out completely. The only sound in the room was Lexa’s forehead slamming into the bar.
“Fine.”
----
“O,” Clarke sighed. “I love you. But I’m going to need you to take your incredibly mismatched ass anywhere that is not this room.”
“I’m helping,” Octavia argued.
“I don’t want you to.”
“I don’t care what you want, Clarke,” Octavia snapped, holding her phone up to Clarke’s face for light and attempting to fix her makeup.
“Go see if Raven needs help fixing the power,” Clarke suggested, and Octavia snorted.
“Raven watched the maintenance staff break the generator and has been heckling them for twenty minutes. I’m not going near that.”
“The generator is broken?” Octavia paused. “Why is nobody telling me anything today?”
“Lexa says it’s fine.”
----
Lexa sucked in a breath as she walked through the garden, candles lining the aisles and hundreds of little tea lights scattered on tables. Fairy light festoon strings hung overhead, powered by whatever Raven had thrown together (a car battery, she later found out. She didn’t know whose car battery). Soft looking lanterns flickered at the end of the aisle, high enough to stand beneath. Raven and Anya were grinning at her from one of the tables near the front, and Lincoln was smiling from his wheelchair, cast matching his suit perfectly. She didn’t know when he managed to get dressed or who changed him, but he looked nice all the same.
There was music playing softly - well, she imagined it was actually playing loudly, far away. Octavia was looking very proud of herself as she walked in, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.
“Car speakers,” she winked. They took their places as their guests meandered in, wide eyed and slightly conflicted between taking in the setting and finding their seats. Lexa stood at the front of the slightly drunk crowd in her suspenders, next to an inexplicably orange Octavia, below the warm light of the lanterns, and grinned as Anya knocked her shoulder. Raven moved close to Lexa’s other side, standing tall in the center of the aisle, and Lexa raised her eyebrows at the small white collar she had wrapped around her neck.
“Told you I had it covered,” Raven smirked and slapped a small book against her palm.
When Clarke turned a corner and made her way up the aisle towards them, Lexa was definitely sure that she had stopped breathing this time.
----
“Did you know Raven was ordained?” Clarke whispered, swaying against Lexa in the middle of the dancefloor. Lexa hummed into her hair.
“I don’t think she was,” she said.
“I like these,” Clarke snapped a suspender against Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa spun them slowly, never moving very far from the center of the floor.
“I know how you like straps,” Lexa smirked, and Clarke shoved her. “Bellamy got our guests drunk,” she explained. Clarke didn’t know how the two things connected, but she pushed her nose against Lexa’s shoulder and smiled anyway. She watched Octavia twirl Lincoln around the dancefloor in his wheelchair, and Raven push at Anya’s hips, trying to get her to move with the music. Anya looked entirely unamused.
“I hate this song,” Lexa said very softly into Clarke’s neck, and Clarke started to pull away from her immediately.
“Raven has a remote,” Clarke was already half turned away from her.
“No,” Lexa said, tightening her grip on the blonde’s hip and pulling her closer. “This is fine.”