Thanks to my very own Courfeyrac (the inspiration for Courf in this series, actually) who read the draft opening very elegantly. He is the true reason Courf is so flirtatious here.
As well as our Jolly/Joly, who read a little more than Courf did and who mocked me when I was busy writing fics instead of work and gave friendship advice to somebody by saying “stay hygienic and shower regularly to keep up a good reputation and get friends”. Good job.
Thanks, as always, to the marvellous @WendyMarvel12, supporting me throughout this awful series and motivating me to actually write. Oh, and the great parody. Beautiful. It’s a true shame to delete it.
Shoutout to my non-binary/gender-fluid royal pal, Ayato, just for existing. (Yes, I did it XD)
Seeiously though, thank you for loving LGBT+ ships and musicals as much (or at least, almost as much) as I do and for helping me out when I’m a complete idiot.(You are so lucky going back to your sister’s wedding and I support both her and her fiancée!) Also for obsessing over every single chapter even though you have no idea who any of them are.
There was a short pause before the opening notes to “The Night” rang out. It was a song that had been murmured for years in drunken slurs, but never by an angelic choir. It sounded remarkably different, yet perfect. Not out of place at all!
Besides, it’d feel wrong to have any other song than that which united the group as one in times of dark. And a reminder of the unity itself, and the promise of friendship, the love of one for another.
It was perfect.
It wasn’t long before the blond appeared, clad in stylish scarlet, the brunette in green, followed by an excited Ariel, Violet, Ginger and Jehan.
Ariel and Violet were dressed in long mahogany velvet dresses with golden trim. Ariel’s curls clipped back on one side with a golden leaf slide.
Ginger wore an all-white dress, carring red roses and bearing a smile, a golden headband in her hair.
A flower was intertwined in Jehan’s plaited hair. He wore a plain white suit with a simple flower embroidery on his lapel. His hands carried clearly dyed green roses.
As Enjolras and Grantaire came to the alter beneath the arch, they took their seats.
The couple gazed into each other’s eyes, grinning in embarrassment. Enjolras chuckled lightly at Grantaire’s tousled (as always) hair. Did he ever make an effort?
But he loved him, from his sweet characteristics to that ridiculous dance he performed (and made him perform) whenever ‘Eye of the Tiger’ came on, which he insisted was his own, though he knew only too much of his obsession with ‘Just Dance’. By the glimmer in his partner’s eyes, he could tell that he was thinking just the same.
Grantaire looked at Enjolras, wondering how he could possibly be about to marry the man of his dreams. It was a far cry from last night. It had taken many pint-glasses of water to get him sober enough to walk a straight line. It wouldn’t be beyond him to ruin this romantic moment with a stupid and flirtatious slur, though he managed to restrict himself. He had the love he wanted. His cynicism could always end now - how could he possibly be negative with the love of his life? Nah, he rather enjoyed his role of a pain in the arse far too much to give it up now. No matter how his soon-to-be husband made him feel. He would drink and sleep and complain, if it was the last things he did. And his Apollo knew it.
“I vow to.... erm...” Grantaire looked into the crowd for inspiration. Enjolras had anticipated this. Of course he hadn’t prepared them. He grinned and rolled his eyes. Ariel mimed a wine bottle, offering R an idea for a vow. Needless to say, he was a hair’s breadth away from yelling “WHAT?!” to her. Luckily, he still had a vague idea of other promises he could make and hopefully keep.
“I vow to look after you.” He spoke. Enjolras smiled at him, taken aback by such a sweet statement.
“Well, I vow to support you in everything. Including your artwork.”
“Damn, that’s a ruddy good one.”
“I vow to... not always draw still life. Or you. Mostly. Sometimes. Occassionally. I won’t always. But I will mostly.”
Ariel touched her face with her hand. His words were like a physical slap across the face. He had a true knack for making a fool out of himself.
“I promise to fuel you with only positivity and care for you, even if you cant get out of bed.” Enjolras added, a subtle smirk on his face, though his eyes were clearly pained with embarrassment. Still, Grantaire had the nerve to speak up again.
“Does that mean-”
The Minister, Bienvenue looked at the both of them in confusion. “Are you finished?”
The pair glanced at each other, stifling a chuckle.
“Does anyone have any reason why this couple may not be married? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
He paused. A bald man nobody had ever seen before rushed between an isle.
“I WAS TOLD THIS WAS THE WEDDING OF APOLLO-” it was then that he realised his mistake.