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Pike sucked in another breath, head between her knees and practically inhaled the layers of organza that made up her skirt. “I don’t think I can do this,” she choked out.
Great-Uncle Wilhand patted her back sympathetically, and down another glass of champagne unsympathetically. “Just cold feet, Dumpling. Marriage is nothing to be frightened of.”
The marriage aspect was the least of her worries. And she was certain about her choice of husband as well. It took a near fatal bout of pneumonia – which Scanlan still insisted had been just a little cold -- for the confused feelings to settle into something recognizable. No, she was not worried about marrying Scanlan.
She was worried about the 300 people waiting to watch get married.
It seemed so long ago that she and her friends had been little more than a group of runaways and criminals squatting where they could and sharing what little they had. A few illegal favors for the right people and all of them were raised to something near respectability, though more often edging notoriety. They still shared a house, but no longer had to huddle together for warmth or take turns going hungry so the others could eat. In other countries and on other continents, they usually knew someone who knew someone who could put them up for the night while they completed whatever shady task some person of authority had requested that week.
Of course, those kinds of contacts had to be invited to the wedding.
Then Scanlan’s songs started getting picked up by the right people, gaining airtime and climbing higher and higher on Billboard. He added a palatial Vermont lodge with a basement of natural hot springs to the group’s increasing fortunes.
It also added several dozen showbiz contacts to the guest list.
She groaned again, opening her eyes to focus on the ever-present pendant laying in her lap, the only jewelry she ever wore. The golden sunburst did little to calm her panic. Her gown, so lovely in the crowded boutique with just her chosen family around her, felt like a costume now. Scratchy and constricting. She shuddered again at the thought of all the guests that would be watching her. The speeches, the dances, being the center of attention, playing to a huge audience.
Scanlan must be having the time of his life.
* * *
“I can’t do this!” Scanlan wailed, flinging himself across a couch.
A small hand grasped the back of his shirt collar and yanked him upright. “Oh, no, you don’t. I did not sweet talk my way into early exams just for you to chicken out.”
Scanlan clutched his heart. “Et tu, Kaylie? Betrayed by my own flesh and blood?”
Kaylie scowled, a ferocious sight in her fluffy purple gown, her short hair gelled into neat spikes. “I don’t care if you divorce her tomorrow, you are getting married if I have to make the vows for you.”
She could do it, too, Scanlan thought proudly. His daughter may have lied about her age to get into Julliard early, but she had skills. Not just throwing her voice, but perfectly mimicking someone else’s. He could weep with pride. And terror.
Mostly terror.
“It’s just too much to take in. Settling down. Pipe and slippers. Monogamy!” He threw himself back across the couch.
Of course, it was all a show. While he might not have been as devoted as some creators to their Muse, once Pike stopped being his muse, temptation just seemed less tempting.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, not sure why he wanted to run. He loved Pike, had loved her since the day they met, even if it took a few years for him to see beyond her beauty. It was easier to look someone in the eye when they were not on a pedestal, and he felt a fool for wasting so many years on the idea of Pike when the woman was so amazing.
No, the bride was not the problem. But the venue might be.
For all her rough and tumble ways, Pike’s devotion to her god ran deep and strong. It only seemed right that they get married in a church. A huge, opulent church. With matching suits and delicately draped bunting and vows to love and honor before 300 of their closest friends.
Scanlan Shorthalt did not get stage fright, he reminded himself. He stood and straightened his tuxedo, plain black with a white shirt and literally no color anywhere. A familiar craving nearly overcame him, but he shook it off. He hadn’t touched drugs in years, and was not going to relapse now.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked Kaylie, groping for the courage his friends kept insisting he had.
Kaylie gave him a withering look before leaving him to his panic.
* * *
“Stop squirming!”
“I hate ties!”
Vex yanked the silk harder than necessary, but it had the desired effect. Her twin settled into an uncanny stillness while she created a passable bow. “It’s like a noose,” he grumbled, tugging the collar of his tuxedo.
“You’ll live,” she said blithely, and smoothed the front of her dress. The turquoise velvet was entirely inappropriate for the season, as were the diamond bracelets and the feathered hairpins. But, Vex justified, if not now, when?
The chapel doors opened, and Percy strode in looking perfectly at ease in his own tuxedo. “I think we can start seating now. Grog is getting bored.” It was a little earlier than scheduled, but when Grog got bored, he got violent, and the Man of Honor could only hold back so long, even for his buddy, Pike.
“He’s just looking forward to the open bar,” Vex quipped and gave Percy’s perfect tie an unnecessary adjustment.
The man in question lumbered in, the stalwart efforts of Percy’s own tailor the only reason Grog fit into his tuxedo at all. “I ‘aven’t ‘ad a drop all day,” he swore, “because I promised Pike I’d be ‘ere and in me own mind. But,” he finished with great solemnity, “there are limits.”
“It’s okay! I’m almost done!” The owner of the eager voice popped up from behind a pew. Being both a redhead and heavily tanned, Keyleth’s unadorned copper gown should have looked garish, but she wore it with such grace she resembled a tree in autumn, with all the beauty the season implied. The effect was not even ruined when she tripped over one of her own garlands, taking out half an aisle’s worth of decoration with her. “I can fix that,” she squeaked.
Percy sighed heavily. “Okay. Keyleth will… fix that.” She gave a thumbs-up, already furiously retying ribbons. “Grog, you get Pike. Vax, start ushering people in. Vex, darling, if you can fetch the officiant, I’ll make sure Scanlan’s in place.”
Vax was nearly at the door when Kaylie tumbled in, her dress hiked up to her knees. “He’s slipped off,” she cried.
“He’s what?” The half-dozen voices echoed in the chamber.
“He got away from me.” Her skirts and shoulders drooped. “He was there one second, then gone!”
Grog took that moment to barge back in, Uncle Wilhand toddling after him. “Pike’s done a runner!” he bellowed.
Vex and Vax exchanged worried looks. Percy and Keyleth shared panicked glances. Behind the chapel doors, three hundred very important people were about to be very disappointed.
* * *
Scanlan entered the first bar he saw, the goal to either drink enough to either call off the wedding go through with it. It was testament to his own dumb luck that the first person he saw when he walked through the door was his own blushing bride to be.
There was no way she would miss him if he tried to hide, so he didn’t. Scanlan climbed onto the bar stool-- some feat, given his height -- and ordered a What-she’s-having. Pike winced at the sound of his voice and took a pull on her beer.
“So,” Scanlan started, staring into his drink.
“So,” Pike echoed.
They fell silent, brooding in their finery, the grubby bar making her wedding gown glow by comparison. Scanlan searched his drink for the right words. He always had the right words. Except with Pike. When she was around, he never seemed to know what to say.
Fortunately, she started talking before he could stick his foot in his mouth. “I just couldn’t do it,” she said in a quavering voice.
Not a phrase he wanted to hear, but… He sighed. “At least… it’s better to find out now than after.” He chugged his beer, not nearly enough liquid to drown he pain curling in his chest.
“It’s not you!” she said hastily.
“What else could it be?” he asked morosely, waving the barkeeper over for a refill.
She shifted in her seat, turning towards him. “Scanlan, you know me,” she said softly. “This isn’t me.”
He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since he walked in. Her gown wrapped around her small form in frothy waves. Her bleached hair fell delicately across heavily-muscled shoulders. The boxing gloves she took to wearing after a few too many bar brawls with Grog had been replaced with dainty strips of lace. Her usually cracked and broken nails had been neatly filed and polished. Even the scar across her left eye had been skillfully concealed with makeup.
She looked the perfect image of a bride. And nothing like Pike Trickfoot.
Scanlan turned away from the image that reminded him too much of his own old, clouded views. In doing so, he caught his own gaze in the mirror over the bar. His tuxedo looked gaudy in the dive, but would seem downright bland compared to his normal attire. His long hair had been carefully greased into place, close to his scalp and secured with a plain black ribbon. He yanked the ribbon out and raked his hands through the strands, making them stick up awkwardly.
He examined his own reflection and hers. “This isn’t us,” he agreed.
She nodded with a sad smile. “I do love you,” she assured him. “I want to marry you, but I don’t want our first promise to each other to be a lie.”
Scanlan pulled off his bow tie for good measure. “I didn’t want to make you choose,” he confessed. “I know how important your church is to you, and I didn’t want to cause any problems. Between you and Her, I mean.”
“I’ve never had to choose.” She sighed in frustration and propped her arm on the counter, crushing her discarded veil. “Wilhand wanted to see me get married, and I didn’t want to disappoint him,” she confessed. “But… his way has never been mine. And I’ve never felt I had to give up on who I am to be faithful to Sarenrae.” She grinned ruefully. “That’s why I ran away for a few years. And that turned out pretty well.”
Scanlan nodded, recalling an ancient temple she had helped rebuild overseas. Then his mind flickered with a spark of inspiration. His eyes brightened once more and he flashed Pike a winning smile.
“Want to run away again?”
* * *
The twins collapsed into a pew. Percy and Kaylie had been sent ahead to the reception venue with enough of a head start to beat the flood of guests. Wilhand had been sent home with a few bottles of wine and a story to stick to.
It had taken too many bald-faced lies, a fabricated emergency, and Wilhand hiding beneath the altar to convince the crowd that the wedding had merely been postponed, and for very good reasons. Percy’s bright idea of moving up the reception to smooth any lingering ruffled feathers gave the rest of the wedding party a few minutes to breath and check their phones. The only clue had been a single, cryptic voice mail left for Grog. “Try not to worry,” Pike’s voice had said. “We’ll explain everything tomorrow.”
“They still aren’t answering,” Keyleth cried, her voice going shrill in distress.
“I can understand Pike,” Vax said quietly. “She’s run off before. But Scanlan… He’s loved her forever. Before me and Kiki, before you and Percy,” he emphasized. “Why would he run off?”
Vex shrugged. Among their close-knit group, she had the best ability to see through Scanlan’s performer persona, but he was not here at the moment. There were no lies to see through, leaving her as baffled as everyone else.
Keyleth collapsed next to her boyfriend. “So, what do we do now?”
Vex shrugged. “Go to the party and get drunk on free champagne?” she offered.
So they did.
* * *
Keyleth always rises with the sun, whether or not she has a hangover. She stumbled down to the kitchen with the stealth of a newborn giraffe and started the first pot of coffee. While the coffee brewed, she checked her phone for messages, but found nothing from the runaways. She poured herself a mug, dumped in a spoonful of raw sugar, and loaded up Facebook, just in case.
She scrolled down the page, slurping loudly on the hot coffee in the empty kitchen. The noise as she spit the coffee back out was even louder.
Keyleth abandoned all attempts at stealth and slammed down the hall, burst through the door, and jumped on her sleeping boyfriend. “You have got to see this!” she demanded breathlessly, then darted from the room and left her drowsy boyfriend to examine the fresh bruises on his arm.
She moved down the hall to bang on Percy’s door, then Grog’s, then Vex’s. Keyleth did not wait to see which doors opened. She stampeded downstairs, then down to the basement, and turned on Percy’s oversized, multi-screen computer. They would need high definition for this.
Percy stumbled into his personal office just as the login screen appeared. “Keyleth, why…?” he managed, squinting behind his gold wire glasses.
“Don’t ask. Just…” She pantomimed typing at him until he sat and entered his passwords to access his overly-secure desktop. Keyleth took control of the mouse and brought up Facebook again, dismayed to find that Percy was not already logged in. “Why…?”
“Because you like to turn on my computer without permission,” he answered mildly, already typing in the password. “This had better not be another baby possum.”
Keyleth rapped her short nails impatiently on the mouse while the others filtered in with their own hangover cures.
“S’too early,” Grog complained after chugging down half a gallon of water.
“Is this about Pike?” Vex asked, blinking away the steam from her own mug of coffee. “Where she run off to this time?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” Keyleth said cryptically. When Vax finally stumbled in, she started scrolling down until she reached a recently posted album titled “Wedding Day”. Posted by Scanlan Trickfoot and tagged Pike Shorthalt.
“No way,” Vax muttered over Keyleth’s shoulder as she clicked the album open.
The first image was a simple selfie, Pike and Scanlan still in most of their wedding attire, except Scanlan’s bowtie was missing and his hair in its usual strategic disarray. Pike’s scrubbed and scarred face smiled at the camera, clean of any makeup, her veil nowhere to be seen. The caption “First Class, Baby!” hovered ominously to the side.
Keyleth clicked the Next arrow to bring up a photo of a man in a black suit with a chauffer’s cap standing in the baggage claim area of an airport holding a small whiteboard with the names “Mr. & Mrs. Trickfoot” etched upon it.
“No…”, Vex breathed.
The next dozen were of a powder-blue Cadillac convertible either standing alone, with Pike still in her gown posed dramatically on the hood, or Scanlan posed even more dramatically on the hood.
Sometime between that series of photos and the next, Pike changed from her gown to a familiar pair of ratty jeans and a Las Vegas T-shirt. Scanlan still wore his tuxedo shirt, but added a black jacket with gold lame trim, and a pair of huge pink sunglasses. These were pushed to the top of his head as someone out of sight took a photo of the pair taking a shot of Tequila. This was followed by another photo with Pike holding two more shots, then Pike downing another shot immediately followed by her finishing off the third while Scanlan watched from the side, clearly enthralled.
The final batch must have been taken by the chauffer from the driver’s seat. Pike and Scanlan sat in the back of the Cadillac making faces at the driver during what everyone had to hope were red lights. This finished with a series of the pair sitting on the backs of the backseats in what looked to be a drive-thru. Everyone’s fears were realized with the only video in the album.
Still sitting on the backs of the Cadillac, Pike and Scanlan rushed through a hasty ceremony at a drive-thru wedding chapel. When the honest-to-god Elvis-impersonator pronounced them husband and wife, each grabbed a bottle of champagne and popped them open, kissing while the bubbly overflowed onto the floor of the rental. They parted while laughing and awkwardly twisted their arms together to drink a celebratory toast straight from the bottles. The video and the album ended on a still from the tackiest wedding ever conceived, and left the group in the basement in stunned silence.
The silence did not last long. Vax and Grog burst into laughter. Percy sputtered for a moment before he managed to choke out, “That was appalling!”
“They look so happy,” Keyleth sighed wistfully.
“But… the wedding, that expensive reception,” Vex felt nauseous at the memory of the overpriced vendors and the thousands of dollars the group had sunk into an abandoned wedding. “If they decided to cancel, that would be fine, but… they just got married anyway?” She voice became shrill. “Why didn’t they just get married like we planned?”
“Why not?” Vax managed, unperturbed. “It’s exactly the sort of jackass thing Scanlan would do.”
Grog was already on his phone, his large fingers fumbling to message both newlyweds at the same time. “Does it matter? They’re married either way, right?”
“But they left us holding the bag,” Vex retorted, her temper flaring. “And having to deal with all those horrible, snooty people.” She shuddered at the memory.
Percy squeezed her hand. “We’ll get back at them,” he murmured in a soothing tone.
“How?” Vex moaned.
“Well, Scanlan always said his lodge is perfect for a honeymoon.”
It took a moment, but Vex caught on. She locked eyes with Percy, who looked to her for either approval or permission. Last minute tickets would still cost a lot, and that on top of all the wedding fees. But it would be worth it.
With an evil little grin, Vex nodded. Percy turned and started booking 5 seats on a flight to Vermont.