Who: Dewi and Bridget What: Check me out! When: Wednesday Night Where: Their apartment
After laughing so hard at David's 'hand jive' comment, Bridget felt terrible. Dewi had invited her to attend a Queen's ball with him and Bridget found she was dying to go. He had mentioned they might have to wear their wedding clothes again since he didn't have any other fancy clothes, but as Bridget was trying to think of something to cheer Dewi up with, she remember she did.
It had been a costume from a show she had done several years ago, but she found in it her closet, still safely tucked in a garment bag. She shook it out and though the dress smelled just the slightest bit of closet, it still fit perfectly.
Bridget did her hair up, quickly but nicely, and then she moved from her room to his, knocking on the door. When he opened it, he would find her clad in a deep red ball gown, grinning at him.
David opened the door fully prepared to roll his eyes and laugh a little at his own expense, but he stopped short when he saw her. "Oh, Bridge- that is- I didn't know you had that," he said, quite a lot dumbfounded and unable to look away. He didn't remember her ever having worn it before. "Is it new?"
"It's old, actually!" Bridget stepped into the room, lifting the dress up so she could show David she was barefoot. "I'll have to get shoes. It was a costume from a play a long time ago, but it still fits! So you want to take me to a ball in this, mister?!"
David laughed and held out his hand to take hers. "I would be honoured," he said, looking at her lovingly, and when he took her hand he twirled her in close so he could kiss her. "Perhaps we could brush up on my dance moves?"
Bridget gave his hand a squeeze and then she kissed him deeply when he pulled her close. "I think that would be a good idea." Then she kissed him on the cheek. "Did you ever do a hand jive? Because if you did, I want you to show that to me."
David flushed a bit pink and snorted a laugh, shaking his head. "No no no. That whole thing wasn't for me. I like the singing but I don't really do the new dances." He rested his other hand on her hip and hummed a tune as he waltzed her a few steps. "I know you like to move. Tell me if I step on your toes."
Bridget leaned close, nuzzling his cheek with her nose as they waltzed a little. "I could show you how to swing dance, but not in this dress. So a queen is throwing this party, hmm? Are you sure I won't look like a peasant next to a bunch of saints and royalty?"
"No. You couldn't possibly. She only invited royalty to attend, so there's no way you could be anything less," David said gently, softly so only she could hear. He liked the feeling of holding her like this. He kissed her cheek and twirled her around. There wasn't a lot of room in here for the dress and fancy footwork, but he was careful.
Bridget liked being twirled. She loved to dance and there hadn't been many chances to do so for a long time. "I can't wait to be your wife, David," she said, matching his soft tone.
David smiled and hummed as he waltzed her. "Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you..." he sang when the tune became something he recognised. "Let me hear you whisper that you love me too..." He wasn't as bad at this dancing lark as he'd thought, for someone who used to be a monk into self-denial. Dancing used to be an essential part of socialising, way back when.
"I like your dancing!" she told him, cheerfully. "And I'm amazed I haven't tripped over my own feet yet! This dress is long." Bridget leaned closer to him, brushing his cheek with her lips.
"You're a natural," David said, "though there's not really enough room in here. That dress really is lovely. You'll put them all to shame." His wedding day could not come soon enough, if he was honest, and he usually was.
"Wait until you see my wedding dress," she said with a wicked grin. "Which you don't get to until I'm walking towards you!" Bridget kissed just near his ear and then she said, completely honestly, "Dewi, you need to take me out of your bedroom or take this dress off me." She breathed the words into his ear and then she pulled away from him slightly, looking into his eyes slightly earnestly.
"We go up onto the roof? Get some air?"
David couldn't deny the tightness in his chest as her words, but he exhaled slowly and nodded, leading her out of the room, muttering "soon, soon" under his breath. The night air outside was chilled but summer hadn't completely faded yet.
"I hope you know that I don't take our commitment lightly," he said, turning towards her. "When I promise to love you and cherish you for always, I really do mean it."
Outside was better. She wasn't shoved up against him in a small room with a bed staring at her from the corner saying 'have sex in me!'. Well...in her head it was saying that.
When he spoke, Bridget took his hand and she leaned in to kiss his cheek again. "I know, my love. Of course I know. You wouldn't be doing this if you didn't mean it. And I hope you know I don't take lightly how hard it must have been to make that decision. How hard it must still be. I know I can't fathom it, but I do understand."
David nodded and walked over to the edge of the roof to look out at the city. "I haven't ever felt like this," he said, and turned back with a big smile. "The sun had better shine for us! Though it will be no match for you, of course."
Bridget couldn't tell if he was changing the subject or just being really happy. Sometimes it was hard to tell with David. Iwan had been so simple. He had just been a man, with no past. Now he was this amazing man with a past that stretched back for centuries and sometimes Bridget wondered if she ever would truly understand every part of him.
"Even if it doesn't, it will be a wonderful day." She went to stand beside him, smiling at the city beyond them. "It's so strange to think that I'm going to marry the man from the stained glass window I used to smile up at when I went to church as a girl."
David turned to look at her, surprised. Sometimes he forgot he was in churches and things. "You did?" he asked, curious.
"I did! You were holding a bird or something. I was really young when I went to church. I prayed to you once too," Bridget bit her lip and then she leaned against him. "I wanted my father back. After he died, I prayed for you to bring him back to me. You didn't, of course. And so then I drew a moustache on a picture of you in a library book and had to pay a fine. Juvenile revenge is ridiculous. But I so thought praying would just bring him back. Silly. And I guess...you weren't the one who would have heard that prayer."
David wanted to laugh a little, but he didn't. He put his arm around her to comfort her. "It's not silly for a child to think that," he said gently. "Of course you would reach out for answers. I- I do hear prayers." Was this a good time to add more things for her to wrap her head around? "You prayer would have been heard, I promise you."
Bridget leaned her head against his shoulder and she nodded. "Patrick said something about that. It's kind of comforting to know that if I am ever somewhere and I need you, you'll hear me. I promise not to pray to you to bring home milk or anything like that! But if I really need it, it's there. It's reassuring."
David chuckled slightly. "So long as you are in America, I can heard you," he said. "You just have to phrase it like a prayer, and not just calling from the next room. I don't hear them every second, because the voices would drive me a little mad, but I am always aware of it. Sunday morning choirs are the best." He rested his cheek against her head, stroking her arm gently.
"Got it," Bridget said with a small laugh. "And no going mad. I'm sorry I drew a moustache on your face," she said with a little smirk.
David laughed. "Don't be! I've seen worse, I'm sure," he said, amused. "Anyway, I don't look much like that any more, and Dewi Sant... he's probably the one that cares. I'm a lot more relaxed than he is."
Bridget leaned up so she could look over at her Dewi. "Are we going to meet him in Wales? Will he like me? I'm nervous."
"I don't even know if he'll like me," David replied wryly. "We don't exactly write much. He's a bit of a Luddite. We can meet him if you want to, but I'd like to keep it brief if possible... he can be a bit... intimidating, though he doesn't mean to be, I'm sure. We are supposed to be relaxing together, after all. Have you heard from your sister yet?" He wanted to be as delicate as he could about the subject.
Bridget frowned immediately when David brought up her sister, but not because she was upset with having the topic breached. "No. I don't know if she's ever going to speak to me again and that terrifies me. Could you imagine never being able to speak to your family-" Bridget stopped in the middle of her sentence and she looked down at her hands. "Nevermind."
There would be a time, hopefully in the very distant future, when Dewi would have to say goodbye to her, not to mention he had very recently been suffering amnesia and the idea of not speaking to his family again had been quite real. He probably had other family he hadn't seen in over a thousand years. Maybe bringing attention to people dropping out of someone's life wasn't a great idea.
David glanced at Bridget and stayed silent a moment, looking up at the night sky. After a moment, he said, "I don't really remember my mother. I know she was canonised but she's not very widely known so I doubt she exists in America. I was raised by monks. All I knew were monks, like Justinian. I was too undisciplined for him!" He laughed. "If you can imagine such a thing! But he was my friend, I think. Since then, my family has been Patrick, George and Andrew, even when sometimes we haven't seen eye to eye. Family is what you make of it." He kissed Bridget on the temple. "We'll find your sister and speak to her. Don't worry."
"You were too undisciplined for someone?" Bridget asked, looking shocked. "I never thought I would hear that." She snuggled close to him while he talked about his mother. "I'm sorry you don't remember your mother. Sometimes I feel like I'm forgetting my father, and I hate that." Bridget kept mum on the topic of her sister. She was still terrified Rhiannon would slam the door in her face.
"I should take this dress off before I rip it or fall on my face. Do you want some dinner? You could tell me about Justinian if you want."
"Me! I know!" David nodded and took Bridget's arm, leading her to the door to go back down. "You're freezing, my dear. Lets get you into something a bit warmer, and we will do just that."