Who: Gale & Leliana Garrus What: Adventures of running wedding errands and easing Gale's concerns When: Today Where: A stationary shop of sorts~ Rating/Warnings: Relatively low Status: Complete!
Ordering invitations via actual human interaction was more personal, clearly - better than emailing everything and looking at samples that way. In the same vein, you probably wouldn’t order a dress or a tux using a service online; visits to a seamstress made sense, and so did visits to a stationer - Leliana liked ‘cute’ things and maybe that was why she’d picked this place, with the shingled roofs and small aisles that made Gale feel a little cramped. They specialized in wedding or other types of invitations, also monogrammed stationery, thank-you notes, little gifts, things like that.
But the proof was in the pudding, he was too tall for the establishment - in fact, he nearly bonked his head when he entered the shop, doing a favor for Leliana and meeting with whomever to make sure the final version of their wedding invitations were correct and then giving the golden go-ahead if everything was kosher. December 10th had been the selected date, a nice wintry wedding up in the mountains at Skyhold - even if it wasn’t snowing naturally, damnit (as natural as December snow seemed to be in the OC), the weather patterns would be fucked with by someone else. Elsa, probably.
“There’s just...so much,” spoke Gale, to a fellow armed services brother and someone who was actually married. Garrus had been pretty hands-on when it came to helping plan his own wedding, and Leliana and Cindy were best friends. Seemed smart to enlist the help of Mr. Cinderella. “They say you should pick your cake like three months in advance too, and I freaking work at a bakery - so you’d think I’d be on that.” It would happen though. Maybe he was stalling because he knew Peeta was definitely going to do the cake - if Gale went to a competitor (and why would he, when he knew the cakes from the District 12 baker were the best) then that’d be a huge snub. Like, gauntlet thrown.
That wasn’t what he was going for.
Mr. Cinderella had been there and survived - the wedding planning, that is, but he was ‘blessed’ to have had someone so neurotically organized (she had a binder) during the process, with check lists and reminders of scheduled appointments. There wasn’t much Garrus thought he’d absolutely needed on his end, but whatever Cindy had wanted he supported. Didn’t hurt that he approved of her tastes, too, but he was active in making sure the errands were done on time and added input when necessary - it did take more than one person to make sure that Special Day went off without a hitch, considering arranging a wedding on a spaceship out in Earth’s orbit wasn’t the easiest of tasks.
Neither was planning one in a castle that still needed some modifications, but these ladies were determined to work miracles, weren’t they?
“Lists are your friend,” Garrus chuckled, his vocals two-toned, having also been nearly decapitated upon entering - the everyday problems of two towering soldiers. “I had a copy of my own. Helped make sure we didn’t miss a thing, considering once we were up where we were? There was no turning back. It also helped lessen the chance of a potential meltdown.”
This shop definitely seemed like the sort of Cindy and Leliana would gush over. He felt out of place, in an amusing sort of way.
“Yeah, once you get up in space there’s no turning around if you forgot something,” Gale snickered - still, how awesome of a destination wedding was that? Definitely beat a stuffy church and boring old reception hall. “I’ll have to start making more lists. I mean, military life - we’re all about structure and organization. So I hope I don’t go overboard. How did your families handle it all, by the way?” he asked. “Like in terms of how completely out there everything is.”
He was curious, especially since he was brainstorming kind of unconventional ways to transport guests to and from the wedding fortress - asking people to hike wasn’t his idea of fun. Probably wasn’t theirs either.
Approaching the front counter, he flipped through a few catalogue-looking things while waiting for one of the dutiful employees to bring out the invitation samples. “Shit, we probably need placecards too - “ Of course he hadn’t even considered that. Maybe if the reception was in the tavern or a banquet hall, it could just be a huge buffet of food and alcohol. Fountains of wine and whiskey, seemed legit.
“Structure and organization’s good, but just be practical about it,” Garrus advised, tucking his hands into his pockets. Through his forced transition he’d gone through some less desirable changes, but he managed to still look like someone of the human race - his clothes were tailored for his height, and the fedora hid the awkward sight of his bare head. “You don’t want to drive yourself to the point of hyperventilation because a table skirt wasn’t ironed completely. As for the family? They were curious but I think selling it as a government perk related to NASA sort of work--”
Out came one of those dutiful employees, someone bright-eyed and a little new at their job with the completed invitation samples - they were printed on different paper (matte, gloss) with different cuts (perfectly squared, square-round) for the final decisions. “Congratulations to the both of you! You two will make a lovely wedded couple!”
Wait, what. “Oh, we’re not - this isn’t -”
“Which one of you is Leliana?” Confusion dawned the girl, looking between the two men, with a look that said she was either about to be very embarrassed about her mistake or wondering what kind of man was named Leliana.
Ah, what would Cindy say about this one? Bless her heart, with that southern accent dripping sweetness.
Did this person just ask which one of them was named Leliana, like, this was real life? Gale had to do a double take, because he just couldn’t believe that had actually occurred. The surprise was noted in quicksilver eyes, before he tried to find the right words to convey that he wasn’t really going to marry the tall, strapping fedora-wearing guy next to him.
“Neither of us are Leliana,” Gale clarified and yes, cue up the slow brow raise and look of judgment. Seriously? “But she’s my fiancee - I’m Gale, I just came to view the final wedding invitation sample. She couldn’t be here though, she had a work emergency.”
And it wouldn’t be a big deal, right? He’d just view the invitation, approve it, be on his merry way and onto the next errand. “Oh, oh right, of course!” the newbie, now flustered, nodded quickly and went to retrieve the sample from the back.
It only took her a few seconds, and ta da! She was showing off the masterpiece. “The Star Wars theme? Stormtrooper Gale and Princess Leliana?” Okay, and it was really well done but pretty obviously not the correct -
“Yeah, no,” Gale visibly facepalmed, looking at Garrus like does this actually happen?? “I think you mixed us up with someone else.” Thank fuck they’d caught that before a hundred had been printed!
Wow. Garrus rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger, like he was doing his best to massage away an oncoming migraine - or bracing himself for what had the potential to be a disaster. All he could guess was that the poor girl assumed something, did her best to be personable, and in her efforts had an horrid case of ‘foot in mouth’ syndrome. He was often victim of it as well, he couldn’t hold it against her.
Except he was pretty sure Gale’s future wife didn’t know much of anything when it came to Star Wars, and this was the potential disaster he was afraid would happen.
“Really doubt there’s another couple around here with your names,” Vakarian whispered, sympathetically patting Gale’s shoulder.
And the fedora-wearing one was correct, because now the girl’s face was reddening even further and she started fumbling, thumbing through some files to pull out the original paperwork and oh god she dropped a folder. “I’m so, so sorry - can you gentlemen please give me a minute to pull up the original design? It might be in the back, I’ll be right back.”
“Stormtrooper Gale and Princess Leliana,” echoed the almost-alien after she disappeared into the back office. “It doesn’t have a terrible ring to it?”
“It really kind of does, actually,” Gale just had to laugh though, because what else could he do? If Leliana were here she’d probably smile sweetly, as sweet as an elegant French cream puff, but yet secretly be plotting the employee’s demise. Gale wasn’t that eager to stab anyone but if they didn’t come up with the right invitation really quick here? All bets were off.
Because fancy paper cost a lot of money - come on, fairytale print shop, get your shit together.
“Officially our first planning blunder though. It’s probably too much to ask to expect everything to go smoothly,” he said, as the still burning beet red employee came back out - this time with what thankfully appeared to be the correct design. Classy, with a pretty scroll of words and what looked like a lace pattern. Except their names weren’t ‘Bruce and Zoe.’ Those must be the Stormtrooper and the Princess. “Right design, wrong names - if you just switch the names though, you’ll be good?” was the helpful suggestion - meaning, yeah, fix it.
“It’s just a matter of swapping it out on the editing program, I’m so sorry,” she gushed out, the color of her cheeks resembling cherries - it was a miracle her body temperature didn’t skyrocket to the point of fainting and, hurriedly, the incorrect samples were re-gathered. “Please, please just one minute.”
Garrus actually felt kind of bad but hey, it wasn’t like the problem couldn’t be fixed, right? Though maybe it was best that it was the two of them doing this particular task, because he was sure one look from the ex-assassin Gale was about to bind his life to could make the room freeze over with a daggered look. “Could be worse,” he chipped in, leaning against the counter and flipping through a sample book while they waited. “It could be your wedding day and your cake’s all fucked like it came from Wal-Mart?”
He’d heard his fair share of disaster stories, but he also was confident that this would go off without a hitch - Cindy was a very meticulous maid of honor, she’d help make sure of it. “But anyway, you’re worried about your family? Asking questions you don’t exactly want to answer? Ours swallowed the vague answers we fed them a little forcefully, but they couldn’t come up with an alternative story to believe otherwise.”
Gale supposed that Garrus was right - situations falling along the ‘worse’ end of the spectrum wasn’t difficult at all; because wasn’t that always the case? “They could have printed them already, or somehow our friends and family could have gotten Star Wars invitations?” he cracked a grin. He’d be certain to ensure Nervous Nelly, when she came back, that things were fine - the shop was still getting paid, he wasn’t going to pitch a fit about the inconvenience, or trash anyone on Yelp. They would have the right invites, all was well.
“I don’t know, I’m not exactly worried, I’m just - “ Gale tried to think of a good way to explain it. “I’m not worried what they would think, I mean. My brother and sister, hey, no problem - Posy especially will into everything about the OC. My mom though, I just want to protect her. I want to protect all of them and even them just knowing about Panem is enough to make me nervous.”
Because what if something happened? He wanted to keep the Hawthorne clan as far away from all that heartache, ash and coal and soot, as much as possible. They’d already been through too much - depressing parallels, even if they didn’t realize.
Ah. Garrus understood now, and he closed the pink-frilled book of card samples to divert his attention to Gale. “You’re afraid one night here could give them a glimpse of it?” It wasn’t impossible, not if they existed in this other life too - honestly, it was also why he preferred to have his family far from here. Nestled in Chicago, safely human, not running the risk of dreaming their turian lives in a world that teetered dangerously on the brink of galactic suicide.
They hadn’t a clue of the existence of that war-ravaged dreamscape, and he planned to keep it that way as long as he could. He was lucky nothing odd happened during their stay here, but there was always a chance of a personal bleedover. No one could really predict those.
“If something happens, we can all work together to keep them safe - I think at this rate we’re all trained to handle our strange emergencies,” he promised. “But it’s your wedding, Gale. Focus on that. And remember they’re in good hands if something happens.”
Even just the thought of explaining Panem to his family filled Gale with a sense of dread - maybe their lives weren’t that different, in terms of dealing with the loss of the Hawthorne patriarch, working fingers to the bone, and trying to see opportunity where there was none in a coal-mining town. But President Snow, the oppression, the Hunger Games - the reaping ball and the forty-something extra slips of paper Gale put in because he increased his chances of getting called in exchange for precious grain and oil. Not to mention the subsequent war and stay in militant, drab District 13 as the rebel army plotted to overthrow the Capitol - Posy, who was as cheerful as the flower for which she was named, he especially didn’t want her exposed to that.
“Like the blood rain, you know?” Gale said, leaning against the counter and keeping hands to himself - for now. There were a lot of trinkets and shit up here. Maybe he should pick up a flowery business card holder for Leliana. “It could happen again - but thanks. Maybe I’m just being overly paranoid about it.”
Probably wasn’t a bad idea to err on the side of caution, given all they’d been through.
Blood rain, tidal waves, monkeys. Garrus knew all too well. “Paranoia’s healthy,” he assured, shrugging his shoulders. “I think a lot of us have it here - we need it so we’re not one hundred percent caught off guard. And it’s alright to think about some kind of preparation plan in case something happens and your family sees, but try not to let the concerns of this other life filter over too much.”
Easier said than done, considering the impending alien invasion that was on the horizon thanks to his dreams - they were monitoring the situation the best they could, securing bunkers for civilian safety and an entire arsenal to arm all who needed it. Something could happen tonight, tomorrow, a week from now, but Garrus did his best to not jinx their wedding day.
But who knew, really?
From the back office they could see the scrambled girl emerge, double-checking the samples to ensure accuracy. No Bruce, no Zoe, no Stormtroopers or princesses with funny hair buns. They could even see her let out a breath of relief.
“If hell rains from the skies around your big day, at least you know you didn’t mess up anything you could control - like your wedding invitations,” he continued, straightening from the counter. Many thanks to the OC for increasing his sense of dark humor, but thus was the reality of their very complicated lives. All the mundane yet important milestones in life had a risk of ruin when one willingly called this place home.
“Gotta revel in what I can actually control,” Gale shook his head, with a chuckle. “And just knowing that we have people around to be there with us especially in the case of shit going awry, no matter what happens, helps too.” Because the strategist in him was all about contingency plans - to have a Plan A through Z, pretty much, and chalk that up to a natural talent for mapping out militaristic operations. However, there really was only so much you could do when it came to predicting the OC’s mood swings.
Sometimes he really hated that part, the not having control, but this was home. Even a hardass like Gale could learn to roll with these tides rather than fight them. It was...worth it. Definitely.
Oh, and now here were the right invitations. He breathed a sigh of relief, examining the paper. “Thanks, these are good,” he approved, and it looked like Nervous Nelly just got about five years of her life expectancy back. Or saved herself a few wrinkles - poor woman. “So we just come back later and pick up the copies and the envelopes, for mailing?”
“Yes, and RSVP cards will be on the house - sorry for the inconvenience.” And for insinuating that this gentleman’s gay lover was named Leliana.
Well, awesome. “Great - “ He looked at Garrus, “Is it time for drinks yet?” Or did they have to run more errands?
All water under the bridge – Garrus wasn’t the type to get all willy-nilly about a misunderstanding. As ludicrous as it was, anyway, but the problem was handled and got complimentary goods for it. Distaster successfully avoided. It’d be a somewhat amusing story to regale the ladies with, maybe troll them if he was brave enough just to see the appalled looks on their faces?
Again. If he was brave enough.
“I could get a beer after that miniature scare,” he supported, taking a glance at the temporary watch on his wrist – Midna still had his original one, tweaking it with whatever magical voodoo that was required for a proper human cloak. “But we’re going to have to stop and pick up some table-cloth samples from this fabric place. To dress the tables and chairs with – Cindy said she put in a request for different texture samples and colors?”
That way her and Leliana could set them all aside, stare for several minutes, and rub their chins contemplatively while bestowing their judgments and taste. It was quite the process.
Tablecloths? Fucking...really? Gale was almost as flabbergasted at this as being referred to as a Stormtrooper. “I thought it was going to be all rustic, like medieval times - “ Or, no, he was clearly mistaken. Maybe just wanted to get out of having to deal with tablecloths, that too.
Alright, alright. The wedding was going to be beautiful and everything Leliana wanted, so he better get on with this.
“Nevermind. To the fabric place, then beer,” he decided. It’d be nice to just sit down and have a cold one - maybe a burger, could they get burgers too? Hell, why not. They’d earned it, after that adventure.
And still more to come, before the 10th of December.