requested by CeceBabs

/ / /

"Barley, honey, this is your wedding that is happening in four months. Don't you think you could maybe get up and help me and your fiancee out with the planning?" Laurel asked. 

You looked up from the dining room table, where you seemed to spend most of your days, surrounded by wedding plans; possible places to have the wedding, possible places to have the reception, how many people to invite, what food you might want, floral arrangements, music, lighting, Barley's outfit, your outfit---

It was all incredibly overwhelming, which is why you had spent three nights sleeping (sleeping was putting it lightly --- Laurel had you planning from sun up to at least midnight every single night) on the Lightfoot family sofa, wearing your fiance's favorite t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

"Oh Laurel, it's okay," you said, shaking your head. "Barley doesn't really get the whole planning thing."

To be honest, you didn't either.

"It would still be great if you could help us out," Laurel said. "I'm going to run to the florist and price some flower arrangements. I am thinking we go with long pink stemmed roses as the main flower. Or is that too overdone? I know a lot of weddings use roses. But they make everything look so romantic! Oh... well, I'll call you while I'm at the store, okay sweetie?"

You took in a deep breath. "Okay."

"I'll be back in a bit," she said. She grabbed her purse and her keys. Blazey chased after her as she made her way to the backdoor. She paused by the counter to give her son a warning glare. "I'm serious, Barley. Help her out some." 

"I'll try, Mom," he said. 

"Okay. I love you." 

"I love you too," he said. He shut the door behind her. Blazey blinked up at him, ready to play. "Come on, girl, let's see if we can help ___ out."

The dining room table was a mess. Laurel had ordered magazines, printed out photos, and had written out ideas of what the perfect wedding could be. She took this incredibly seriously; she and Wilden had a small wedding right after college. She never had any daughters to dream of planning a wedding. This was probably more exciting for her than it was for you or Barley. The weight of the wedding was heavy on your shoulders now as you flipped through the thirtieth magazine and then dropped your face in your hands. 

"Hey," Barley said, stepping up behind you. He put his hands on your shoulders and massaged your muscles there. "Why don't you take a break from all of this wedding stuff?"

You pulled your hands away from your face and sighed. "I really should. If I have to look at another ultra thin model in a basic and boring, tightly-fitted, sleeveless white gown that could never look good on me, I will scream." 

"Aw, come on," Barley said. He took the seat next to you and kept rubbing your shoulders. "You're so beautiful, baby, I bet you'd look good in any of these dresses." 

You gave him a half-smile and grabbed a magazine. You didn't have to double-check to see if it was the right one. "Look at page twenty-six. The second gown on the right side of the page."

Barley opened the magazine and flipped there. He cringed at the look of the gown and it made you laugh. 

"Why is all of this wedding stuff so boring?" you whispered, shaking your head. "I thought this would be the most fun thing ever." 

"Because planning is adult stuff, my love, and we are not about that life."

You snorted. "Yeah, I guess we're not." You blew heavily. "Barley... how do you picture our wedding?"

"How do I picture it?" he asked, eyebrows raised. You nodded. "Uh... psh... I don't know. I mean, I've thought about it, especially recently. But I mostly just wonder what you'll look like, because if it's true that the groom will always think his bride is prettiest on that moment, well, seeing you will probably just kill me right there." 

You smiled. "Barley, stop---"

"I'm serious." He raised his arms and pretended to fire an arrow out of a crossbow. You laughed as he pretended that the arrow struck him in the heart. He fell limp around the back of his hair, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. 

"Stop it," you mumbled, elbowing him gently. 

He chuckled and sat up, putting his arm around your shoulders. 

"Barley," you said, "what do you think about our wedding looking like when you picture me?"

You leaned against him and he grew very serious. "When I think about our wedding, I think about you walking down that aisle. You're wearing this huge dress, you know, with those puffy sleeves that you love. Your hair is down, but honestly you're so breathtaking no matter how you wear your hair. And your bouquet is just wildflowers. Your favorite."

You looked at him as he kept speaking, his eyes on the table covered in wedding planning things.

"It's just you and me," he said, "or that's what it feels like, anyway. We read each other our vows and even though your family is there and mine is there, we only see each other. And then we're married and I kiss you and I'm just grateful and glad that you married me, 'cause you're just the most amazing girl in the history of forever." 

Your lips curled upward and his eyes met yours. He searched your face for a brief moment, just admiring the woman that he loves. His lips brush against your forehead in a soft kiss and then he goes to stand up. 

"Let me make you some coffee, babe, and some breakfast. Let's take a break from the wedding planning." 

"Okay," you said. You watched him as he got up and went to the cabinet to pull out a mug. "Hey, Barley... what if we just didn't have all of this?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean the wedding," you said. 

He looked at you, offended. "What, are you getting cold feet or something---?"

"No," you said, standing up. "Jeez, no!" You crossed over the kitchen and smiled wide. "What if you and I just forgot about all of this wedding planning and had our simple fairytale wedding that we always wanted. I can wear my mom's dress, you know that it had puffy sleeves just like the gown I wanted. I can carry a bouquet of wildflowers that you pick for me like you always do. We can get married by the ocean, and it can be my family and yours. Then we can just have a reception for all of our friends and distant relatives to come and celebrate... but this weddings is ours, Bar. It's just you and me, so why don't we have the wedding that we want?"

Barley stared at you with a smile. Your eyes sparkled as you spoke about the wedding; it was the first time they'd sparkled like that in a while. "That sounds great."

"Yeah?" You bit your lip and put your hands on his sides. "And I... I don't want to wait four months to marry you. What if we got married... like, next week? Or day after tomorrow?"

His eyes widened. "So soon!?"

"Why not?" You grinned. "All we have to do is sign off on our apartment. We already have all of our wedding gifts from the reception. All we have to do now is get married! Unless you're getting cold feet..."

"No way!" he exclaimed. He grabbed you by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to do all of this?" 

"Of course I'm sure," you whispered. "We wanted the fairytale wedding. So let's have one."

He nodded. "Okay. You call your mom and talk about the dress. I'll call my mom and put a stop to the pink roses." 

You reached up and kissed him flat on the lips, cupping his face as you did. You pulled back to look up at him. "I love you, Bar."

"I love you, too---" His sentence was muffled before you kissed him again.

/ /

The next two days flew by. The speed of planning seemed to triple all of a sudden, but everything fell into place quickly and easily. The weather would be clear for the day of the wedding. You fit perfectly in your mother's dress. Your family and Barley's would attend the wedding, and then there would be a huge reception that night at Manticore's Tavern. Corey had made sure the entire place was cleared out for the party. 

"Everything is pretty much perfect," Ian said. "Even Mom seems happy with how things are working out. She isn't as stressed as I thought she would be."

Barley looked at himself in the mirror that was in front of him in Ian's room. He hated the way he looked in a suit. It wasn't a tuxedo (he understood and agreed with your distaste for those) but just a nice suit, one that made him look far older than he felt. He nervously touched the hair that had been slicked back so that it stayed off of his forehead.

"How's ___ doing?" Barley asked. He wondered if you were as nervous as he was. 

"I haven't seen her in a while, but I think she's okay," he said. "She picked this flower for your suit."

Barley turned and smiled. A bright yellow daisy was in Ian's hands. Barley had picked the flowers for your bouquet and you had chosen the flower for his suit. It was perfect.

"I know I never formally asked you," Barley said, standing in front of his little brother as he attempted to pin the daisy on the lapel of his father's suit. "But Sir Iandore of Lightfoot --- would you be my best man?"

Ian smiled genuinely. "While I am pretty sure I accepted the title of best man already... yes. Of course I will, Barley. I would be honored to be your best man."

"You're the greatest brother and friend that anyone could've ever hoped for," Barley said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, Ian." 

"Are you kidding me? You're... you're my best friend," Ian said. "I'm so happy for you and ___, man. I just... I'm gonna miss having you around, you know."

"I know. I'll miss you, too." 

Ian hugged his brother tightly without hesitation. Barley pressed his face in his shoulder and the boys stood there for a moment. 

Then there was a knock on the door. They quickly pulled back and Ian rushed to the door. "Mom, we're almost ready. Just give us like four minutes to make sure--- oh, uh, hey."

Barley turned away from the mirror and looked over. "Is that ___?" he asked, his eyebrows lifting. 

"Hey, can I just have a moment with Barley? I just wanted to see him before we go," you said. 

"Uh, yeah, sure. But I thought it was bad luck for a groom to see the bride before their wedding."

You scoffed, "Please. That's ridiculous."

Ian glanced back at Barley, then walked around you. He carefully avoided stepping on the skirt of your dress and you hurriedly went into the room, shutting the door behind you before Laurel could catch you. 

Barley caught barely a glimpse of you in your dress and smacked his hands over his eyes. "Babe! I'm not supposed to see you." 

"No, it's okay," you said. 

"I can tell you confidently that it is not okay! We are breaking the number one rule of getting married, babe!" 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Bar, honey. I want you to look at me." 

"But---"

"But what?" You walked in front of him. "I wanted a minute where you got to see me for the first time without everyone else's eyes on us too. Just you and me. Isn't that what we wanted?"

Barley thought for a moment. "You do have a point." 

You smiled. "So look at me." 

Slowly, he dropped his hands, and he looked at what was in front of him. 

He really looked at you.

He had to blink a few times just to make sure that you were real and he was really looking at you. You stood in front of him in a floor length ballroom gown that was so dramatically large that you couldn't see your shoes at all. The sleeves that hung down off of your shoulders were full of glittering fabric and layered in ruffles of tulle. A crown of wildflowers pinned down your veil, and your right hand held the bouquet tightly. 

You were a princess and a queen and a bride and the single most beautiful thing that he had ever seen in his life. 

"It's killing me that you aren't saying something right now," you said, shaking your head slowly.

"I can't think of what to say, I mean..." He wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye with the back of his finger. "Babe, you're... holy tooth of Zadar, you're just so beautiful." 

"Yeah?" you asked. 

He stepped forward slowly. "I mean... wow. I don't --- I don't know what to say. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life and I just... I don't know. I don't know what else to say."

He was crying, and you were crying. You quickly wiped under your eyes. You didn't want to ruin your makeup. 

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything," you said. He hesitantly put his hands on your waist. He didn't want to ruin anything. "Just know that I love you, Barley Lightfoot, and I get to marry you in a few minutes and I just can't wait. And I think that you look so incredibly handsome." 

He dropped his head and cried harder, his shoulders shaking. You cupped his face and wiped them all away. 

"Hey," you said, voice hushed, "Bar, are you okay?" 

"I've never been better," he assured you. "I love you so much and I just... I get to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you right by my side like I always wanted you to be so that's... that's just great, you know. So. I don't know. I just really love you and I want to be the husband you deserve and I want to... I want to protect you from danger. Like a real knight. And treat you like the queen that you are. And you are so pretty that it's really making it hard to think right now."

You smiled and nodded, a bubbly laugh rising up out of you. "Hey, we still have some time before we get married. Why don't we practice our first dance again?"

 His hands pulled yours off of his face and he sniffled. "Okay."

"Maybe it'll settle your nerves," you suggested. You put your arms over his shoulders, your fingers clutching the bouquet behind his head.

"I'm not nervous anymore," he said, and it was true. 

He pulled you in by your waist and gracefully pulled you into a slow sway, where he kept his eyes on yours the entire time. He didn't want to gaze away from his beloved. 

/ / /

i have decided to make a part 3 bc this part originally came out to almost 6000 words soooo part 3 to come tomorrow!!