until the sun grows cold [baker wedding]

This. This was the part of the day Charlie was most worried about. From his seat at the head table he glanced sidelong at Kate anxiously as he felt her hand rest on his thigh in a reassuring gesture. He took her hand in his and squeezed gently.

The ceremony itself had gone without a hitch. Charlie had waited at the altar, sweating nervously -- and he still wasn’t sure why he’d been nervous. They were already married, it wasn’t like she was going to just leave him there. Maybe it was the prospect of being wed in front of everyone they knew. Ironic, that he made his living standing before crowds of hundreds -- sometimes thousands -- that he couldn’t manage a modest gathering of two hundred or so guests. If that. He couldn’t honestly remember how many invites there had been -- Kate had organised the majority of things, including the guest list. He’d just had to provide the names of the people he had wanted to invite. He’d thought seeing their faces amongst the numerous cousins, aunts, and uncles of Kate would help, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Antonio got to his feet and a quiet hush descended over the tables. They were sat outside, in a vast courtyard, with candlelit lanterns floating above the myriad of circular tables. The centrepieces were the same as the bouquets and buttonholes -- bright, exotic flowers; splashes of gold, fuschia, and orange against lush green foliage. Charlie tried to keep his face impassive, but not in such a way that he looked miserable -- as he tended to do. He’d been warned, not politely, to look happy. They’d already taken the orchestrated wedding photos but that didn’t mean that the photographer was finished, and he knew Kate wouldn’t forgive him if, when the photos were developed, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but at his own wedding.

Tony’s speech began innocuously enough; how proud he was of his daughter, how much he loved her, that she was his youngest and that he was happy she had found love already… Then, a thinly veiled threat that should Charlie hurt his Princesa, Tony would come for him. The Mexican-American delegation all burst into laughter, and Charlie tried his best to look amused despite the overwhelming feeling he’d just married into some sort of cartel.

As his father-in-law finished speaking Charlie raised his glass to drink at the toast. He paused for a moment, then gave Kate’s hand another squeeze before standing somewhat hesitantly. He reached into his pocket to withdraw a slip of paper, upon which he’d written his groom’s speech in his untidy scrawl. He wasn’t a public speaker -- not in this sort of environment, anyway -- but when Kate had told him he needed to get up and thank people for various things, he’d known he wasn’t going to get out of it.

“I’ll try and keep this brief.” He started quietly, then cleared his throat softly, stifling a strange and sudden urge to giggle nervously. “I’d like to start by thanking you all for coming, though I know some of you -- Fflur,” he glanced at her pointedly, “-- were won over by the opportunity for a short all-expenses paid holiday on the Californian coast.” He smirked and his shoulders relaxed a little as he settled into a sort of rhythm. “Some of you know how much I hate getting into feelings,” he ignored a laugh from somewhere to his right, “but it does mean a lot to us, that so many of you have travelled, near or far, and taken time to be here today.”

“I’d like to thank Antonio and Elena for welcoming us all into their home, and me into their family. I’m pretty sure when Tony first said ‘we’re family now’, back when he was first helping the band start out in the States, he didn’t expect us to actually end up related.” He smiled, eyes still cast down at his handwritten speech, pausing just long enough to allow for a response from the crowd. “I’d also like to thank you both, on behalf of everyone who came from England, for the climate-control.” He was referring to the charms that were keeping the courtyard cool enough to not make the foreign guests uncomfortable. He allowed himself to grin along with the laughter that, once again, seemed loudest from Kate’s extended family. He tried not to read into it. “To Tony and Elena.” He picked up his glass and raised it, drinking down in more of a gulp than a sip now that he was on the home stretch of the day.

“To my parents, Alfred and Rosie, thank you for everything you’ve done for me, and for not scaring off Kate.” He looked up to spot his family at one of the nearby tables, “Nan, thanks for always telling me when I need to get my head on straight, and for allowing me to give your ring from Granddad to the woman I wanted to make my wife.” He raised his glass once more, leaving just enough to make his final toast before he’d need to top up.

Charlie pressed his lips together and turned slightly towards Kate. “Kate. I don’t think I need to state the obvious but I will: you’re too good for me, but I promise to always try and be my best for you. You’re my best friend and now you’re my wife, too.” He met her gaze and was suddenly filled with the desire to be alone with her, away from all of these people. Charlie always thought Kate looked gorgeous, but today, standing at the altar, he’d felt like the wind was knocked out of him as she came down the aisle towards him. He wet his lips, his eyes still focused on hers. “I love you.” It wasn’t loud, he was speaking directly to her. After a beat he lifted his glass for the final time, emptying the flute of its contents.

Charlie breathed in deeply then exhaled, reluctantly facing back towards the front and the many eyes upon him. At least, after Fflur spoke, they would be free to relax and mingle with their guests. “So the only thing that kept me going through that speech was knowing you’ll probably all forget it after the lies you’re told in the next one.”

Charlie grinned mischievously in anticipation of Fflur’s reaction to her introduction, but he had to get a preemptive dig in before she tore him to shreds; “My best man, doing her best impression of a man in a dress, Fflur.”

Fflur shifted as she looked around the various tables -- she had been situated at the high table perfectly to be graced with a lovely view of the back of Robin’s head -- with one hand on her half empty champagne flute. She was only one her second glass, and she had made a conscious effort to not be the farthest ahead; even from a couple seats down she could see Liam taking that title. She was anxious for the speeches to start, not because she was nervous about her own but because she just wanted to get this last obligation over with, and she was hopeful that the gradually shifting buzz in the courtyard was some sort of divine sign that they were close.

She had learned by now how to identify the most important members of Kate’s family, parents, sister, Important Cousins, and the like, and she sat up a bit straighter as her dad stood up; she dropped her hands into her lap, assuming that looks would be split between the speech and the newly married couple, the two people seated directly to her left. It wasn’t the best thing to be proud of, but Fflur could still know when she needed to look like she was interested in something: class, the last parts of a wedding reception that stood in the way of that magical time when she was ‘allowed to mingle’.

She and Robin made eye contact right around when Mr. Duenas threatened Charlie and she smirked, hoping he’d be able to imagine the eye roll she was trying so hard to refrain from. She paid attention to the rest of the speech and drank when the crowd did. It was Charlie’s turn next, apparently, and Fflur shifted in her seat to get a better look, not minding too terribly if she was starting to crowd Sam’s space a bit. She eyed the piece of paper in Charlie’s hand and smirked again, though as she heard her name she rearranged her face into a look of shock -- he was well aware that she would have preferred a holiday almost anywhere other than the surface of the sun, but she figured she’d get her chance to correct him later. She rolled her eyes -- finally -- and settled in to listen with a smile that was bordering on a smirk.

Charlie and feelings weren’t things she usually associated with each other, but considering she had literally just watched him get married and had that talk with him before the ceremony, she had pretty much thrown all her preconceived notions out the window. All the thanks were nice, and his words for Kate were probably the nicest words she had ever heard him say; she had to agree with him, though; Fflur had only met Kate a few times at this point but she was pretty sure she liked her more than Charlie, now.

Fflur took another swallow of champagne, careful to leave enough for her own toast.

All the lies you’re told in the next one. Fflur rolled her eyes again, though really that was nothing compared to the words they’d be having after her speech, when she would kindly remind him that he was the only reason she was in a dress in the first place -- for now, she was on her best behavior. That, and she figured she would never really have another opportunity to be taken quite so seriously about the topic at hand.

Fflur stood, squeezing Charlie’s shoulder, patting it a couple times before abandoning it completely. She rolled her eyes one more time. “He wasn’t wrong, y’know. About the lies, I mean.” She glanced around the crowd, not focusing on any one person for too long. “I was going to tell you how great a friend he’s been over the years, how even though I had nothing to offer in return, he has consistently been the most generous and sometimes even a genuinely caring person.” Fflur glanced at him and shrugged one shoulder before returning her attentions back to the crowd.

“I can be a terrible friend, but Charlie is always there when I need him.” She paused for a second and nodded. “But enough of the lies.” She smiled a half smile as she dived back into the speech she had repeated to herself so many times, just like she had rehearsed her Captain’s talks and any other quidditch-related spiel she had given since. She had been through many iterations of this speech, dumb one-liners, discarded jokes, things that just didn’t feel right. Never mind that so many of their shared memories were better suited for a much different audience, one without parents, significant others, anyone really.

The good things were easier to say without having to make direct eye contact, anyway. “I am, at least, pretty thankful that I never scared him off for good, not when I didn’t recognize him when we were first introduced, not when I criticized his choice of karaoke song, not even when I nearly convinced him to cover his Yorkshire rose tattoo with one of a great big sheep.” This would have been the perfect opportunity to mention that he stuck by her even after they got arrested for skinny dipping in a fountain, but she was going to reserve that anecdote for another day. Maybe his kid’s christening.

Fflur turned to look past Charlie, to his wife. “Thankful because without him I would have never met Kate, who is infinitely better than Charlie will ever be.” She smiled quickly before turning forward again, her glass held slightly higher to encourage her to finish her little speech. She caught Robin’s eye and held her gaze there, ignoring the hundreds of other faces she could feel staring back at her. “They’re just proof that when you know, you know.” She looked away after a few long seconds, back to Charlie, pulling her most appropriate Star Trek quote: “I have been, and always shall be, your friend.”

With her glass held aloft this time, she turned back to the crowd one more time. “My Nan always had this lovely thing to say about love and friendship: Twll dy din di.” She tilted her head as she raised her glass, knocking back the rest of its contents, figuring she couldn’t waste the entire speech on feelings. Taking her seat, she shrugged and angled herself toward Charlie, just as the music started back up. “Only not giving you another black eye because it’s your wedding day.” She clinked her empty glass to to his. “Cheers, mate.”

Kate was unsure whether this had been the best day of her life or if the one where they’d actually signed papers and been married in a Vegas chapel had, but after a few seconds’ deliberation, she was perfectly satisfied with allowing them to be tied. She hadn’t gone into the house to change yet because, of course, she wanted these first few moments of their reception to be captured in the most authentic just-back-from-the-ceremony way. Charlie was footing most of the bill for the wedding--and he’d offered to--and, thus, her parents were providing the venue and had paid for catering and a couple of other things.

Her father’s toast was as expected. Sweet, semi-traditional, and slightly threatening. The apples of Kate’s cheeks heated up a few times listening to him speak, but she couldn’t help but to laugh when he indirectly mentioned murdering her spouse. It was an obligatory thing for most of the men in her family to say when their daughters were being married off, and even though Kate didn’t agree with many of her family’s values and principles, the importance of being loyal to your blood and keeping them close to your heart was one they’d always see eye-to-eye on. Her brown eyes stung with tears and she blew a kiss to her father when he was done toasting, and then she belatedly raised her own glass. She felt blessed for a number of reasons, but the most prominent reason at this moment had to be because of the tears-proof charm her sister had performed so her mascara didn’t run all over her face at… well, practically any given moment.

She adjusted in her seat when fewer people were looking at the head table, and Kate’s feet felt warm as ever as she watched her husband get to his feet to make his speech. Normally, in front of others, she felt odd appearing as smitten as she felt, but it was her wedding day and everyone else almost disappeared as she stared at Charlie. Her arm methodically moved to make toasts each time he did even though she was distracted by his words and his face and the way he held his body. Kate was in love with everything about him. “I love you.” she told him quietly, though with a good amount of conviction, and even though she could’ve listened to him talk about her like that for hours, she was even happier to have him back in the seat next to her.

Her manicured hand reached under the table to grab for Charlie’s, and she hovered close to him, resisting the urge to rest her head atop his shoulder. Kate was notoriously a lightweight and even these couple glasses of champagne during toasts had her head spinning just a little. She’d need to get some food in her system before long.

Normally a rather reserved and proper person who withheld her humor for people who knew her really well, Kate found herself laughing--not tittering away, as was appropriate during wedding toasts, but actually laughing, during a good chunk of Fflur’s speech. She could tell the other woman was far more laid back and less concerned with what others thought than she was, but that wasn’t always bad. Kate herself aspired to be a little bit more like that. “I’m glad you didn’t get a sheep tattoo.” She mumbled to her husband, soft fingertips stroking over the area where she knew the rose was printed on his inner arm. “This one’s much prettier.”

Kate’s cheeks flushed once more when Fflur complimented her character. She had always been uncomfortable with compliments in one way or another, but this one warmed her from the inside of her stomach all the way up into her throat. She longed to be accepted and liked by the important people in Charlie’s life--his parents, grandmother, bandmates, friends--and this was far preferable to feeling the opposite. She lifted her flute, once more, to commemorate the end of the speeches. Her party’s speeches had come first, and luckily, as per tradition, she’d gotten out of making one. If she was being honest, she felt slightly spoiled.

“Well. Now we can eat, and drink more, and. I should probably go change out of my dress after awhile, huh, but that won’t be acceptable to my dad for a bit.” She grinned at Charlie and planted a sure-of-herself kiss in the hollow of his cheek.

Charlie turned to look at his wife after he sat, meeting her warm, calming gaze as he felt her hand grab his – but his attention was quickly drawn back to the woman on his other side as she gave him a squeeze of her own. He lifted his head to look up at Fflur with a nervous grin – a nervous grin that turned into something softer, more genuine, as she got going with her speech. Charlie busied himself with observing her, for fear of catching anyone else’s eye as she sung the praises he didn’t know he had – as if to prove his point, just past Fflur, as little further along the table he could see Liam, out of focus, leering at him knowingly. Hold it together, they were almost scot-free.

Charlie’s eyes met Fflur’s when she paused and he smiled up at her, somewhat bashfully; he could feel his cheeks flush warmer as her words sunk in. He couldn’t recall Fflur ever being intentionally, genuinely horrible to him, even when poking fun at his choice in hairstyles or in women, and perhaps that was why their friendship was as strong as it was – even after their hiatus. Charlie held FFlur in high regard – that much must have been obvious given that he’d picked her as his best man – but it was weird to hear her speak so nicely of him, even if it was punctuated with jibes. Despite both of their flaws, he always considered Fflur to be the better friend out of the two of them, the one with slightly less shortcomings.

Still holding Kate’s right hand beneath the table, he felt the fingers of her left touch on his forearm through his suit jacket and he glanced down before flicking his gaze up to her. “Yeah, it is,” he murmured back with a small smile – Kate was as-yet unaware of the tattoo on his opposite arm, in almost the same place, that he’d had done a few days prior (hidden thanks to the magical properties of the ink until he chose to reveal it to her). At least he had that up his sleeve – literally – for later.

Fflur soldiered on, though the topic du jour had shifted from Charlie to Kate, and so he kept his focus on his newly-official wife, with an expression that could only be described as adoring. He laughed along with everyone else at Fflur’s entirely accurate statement, and raised his flute for another toast.

They’re just proof that when you know, you know.

Charlie didn’t want to tear his attention away from Kate, but he owed Fflur that much, after that. He caught her gazing in Robin’s direction and he didn't bother to hide the smirk from his features as he looked up at her. Recognising the Star Trek quote for what it was, he let out a short laugh before recovering – he knew that nobody else (except maybe his father) would twig, so his reaction would probably come off as wedding jitters or something, he supposed. But Fflur was the gift that kept on giving; he had to try hard not to react visibly to her Nan’s heartfelt words – and his expression did falter for a brief second – because he knew they were not as advertised. He didn’t know the exact translation, but he knew it wasn’t polite. He only hoped that Hefin wasn’t going to whisper the English version in Kate’s ear and spoil what had otherwise been, surprisingly, a lovely speech.

Charlie leaned towards Fflur once she was back in her seat and grinned lazily, “Sorry, thought you were gonna be a lot more honest.” He smirked and chinked his (also empty) glass against hers, “Cheers.”

“Yeah, I’m dying for a drink,” he said candidly as he glanced back towards Kate. Every time he looked at her he didn’t want to have to look away again; she was the happiest he thought he’d ever seen her, though he hoped not the happiest he ever would. He swallowed and tapped on the rim of his champagne flute, “You know this is the first one I’ve had all day?” What an accomplishment – except, for him it really was. He’d half-expected Fflur to have a hipflask hidden on her person somewhere; if she had, she’d done a bloody good job of keeping it hidden.

“Does that mean I can change too?” Charlie smirked at her; though he wasn’t in suits often, he wasn’t as uncomfortable as he had thought he was going to be – the climate charms were clearly working. He shifted a little in his seat and leaned in close to murmur in her ear, “He's gonna have to accept you're not his little Princess anymore.” He kissed her cheek softly before sitting back and casting his gaze around the courtyard, catching the eye of several faces he was familiar with amongst the sea of faces he wasn’t. “Come on, we better start working our way around,” he linked his fingers between hers on the hands they hadn’t yet let go of one another with, getting to his feet and helping Kate to hers.

Kate's Cousin
Ximena Sofi Vale

Ximena Vale had just come back from the restroom when she noticed her uncle standing and raising his glass. The petite mexican witch tucked her clutch under her arm, before she pickup the hem of her long flowy pink dress as she quickly cross the room to find her seat among her parents and siblings. “What did I miss?” She whispered to her Madre, who only hushed her. It was then her Tío Atonio began a speech that threaten Ximena’s makeup again. She dabbed the back of her fingers to her eyes to prevent a wayward tear from escaping. Oh. How she longed to have her own Papa raising his glass to her, on her own wedding day. Although Ximena would have done things a little more … traditional, still it was a beautiful ceremony that left the 20 year old witch a little bummed she had not already found her own el novio soñado y el marido ideal. One could never know. He might be here. She thought. She had kinda hoped to meet a handsome English wizard… but she knew her Papá wouldn’t approve. They were not as… progressive as Kate’s Familia. Her cousin was so lucky.  Kate looked so beautiful in the lacy gown… Not part of the wedding party Ximena did not see her until she had walked down the aisle. Although she would have wanted to be one of her bridesmaids, she knew that she had not seen her much since their school days and Kate had moved to England and made new friends there.
 
They all laugh at Antonio’s joke and Ximena took a small sip of her champaign during the toast.

Then it was the Groom’s turn. His speech was… different. A little disjointed in Ximena’s opinion. Although Ximena could not believe it when she heard Kate was marrying the a wizarding world famous rock star, Charlie Baker … she had thought he would be … more handsome in person. Oh, he was tall, and not bad looking but more in a goofy cute way. He just seemed anxious all the time during the ceremony.  He was a Rockstar. Shouldn’t he be sure of himself? Ximena thought it was only when Kate was near that he relaxed and looked more like his advertisement photos. Ximena tried to take a small sip every time the groom raised his glass in toast, which seemed a few times. When she was done she only had a quarter glass left. Her mother seeing this motioned her to put the glass down. The dutiful daughter obayed.

“Did he say lies?”  someone behind Ximena whispered.

Fflur. Ximena was aware most of her family was not sure what to make of her. Just why he insisted she need to be the best man was quite irrational. She would be better placed as a bridesmaid. Everyone knows that female best men is only done in the movies. What was wrong with theses England-ers? Maybe it was best that Ximena did not meet her future husband here after all. He would likely want a Centaur as a best man… Still, Fflur did a good job and seemed better at giving a speech. It just was not filled with the heartfelt commentary that everyone normally expects at this event… Then there was something said about a great big sheep tattoo. Why in the wizarding world would you say that in a wedding?  She was just weird. Ximena turned and examined her cousins face. She was relieved to find Kate still looking happy and not at all slightly horrified (which was how Ximena felt for her.) But for all she knew, it might have been some weird inner joke or something.

Ximena raised her glass again with everyone else. Yet under her mother’s sharp eye she dared not to sip it and stead lower it to the table. Her father grunted as he turned back around to face the table and mumbled something about food. Ximena picked up her napkin to unfold it. Her mother leaned over and instead  told her she should attend to Kate. Reminding her, that her cousin would need help to change and noted that really she only had her sister and one cousin as bridesmaids... Before adding in the comment, "Goodness knows that bride's-man could not help her."

The brunette got up, happy to have a chance to do something helpful in this wedding. Plus it would give her an excuse to talk to Kate… When she stood up she notice she was already feeling a bit tipsy... She could not remember the last time she drank Champagne but vaguely remembers it did go quickly to her head. She told herself it would fade.  Leaving her shawl and clutch she made her way to the main table. She notice the newlyweds got up and Charlie looked to be helping her out of the room. Poor Kate. Where was her sister?

“Kate, te ayudaré.” She said in spanish before repeating it in English “I will help you. You are going to change right?” She asked as she pulled Kate's dress away from underneath her shoes, and then pulled the chair out of the way for her to get a clear path. Then she turned to her attentive groom. Well at least he had that going for him.   “Charlie, I will take it from here. You know you can’t get a sneak peak.” She added a little jokingly. Then it hit her in surprised... she joked around with the great Charlie Baker.

Wow.

"Can you believe his middle name is Kipling?"

Florence asked her husband with a grin that dimpled her left cheek as she let out a giggle. Of course, she was only kidding. It was a beautiful wedding and she was floored by the beautiful space. A cliff top wedding was an ideal for many and it was a stunning day. Was it as good as her own wedding? Nope. No where near. She also noticed that it was swelteringly hot outside in California. She was very thankful that there was some sort of air conditioning around the place and she'd made damned sure to smother on the sunscreen.

If she was going to be honest, Florence was wholly surprised that she and Arkasha had been invited. Charlie was basically her boss and she was pretty certain she and her husband had spooked poor Catherine at their dinner party some months prior. But she liked Catherine. Did she think Charlie was punching above his weight? Absolutely. She was way too good for him. And a bit young but love was love.

Wedding speeches were possibly her favourite part of the entire ceremony and she rested her chin on Arkadiy's shoulder as she slipped  her hand into his and squeezed it affectionately. Florence had been day drinking. Whatever she'd been sipping on was fruity and fizzy and delicious and they were all a few hours in and she was feeling a little sleepy. Coupled with the heat and the sound of the waves crashing below the venue, curling up in the sun like a cat seemed like a brilliant idea.

Her long blonde hair was twisted up and out of her face in a braided crown, with some tendrils softly escaping the plait to frame her pretty face. Her outfit was a stunning shade of emerald green and she decided that, because she wasn't showing legs, she could show a little bit of boobs. The material was soft and flowy and perfect for the American summer sunshine. And she could dance in it, which was probably the most important thing.

Florence had thought long and hard about what sort of wedding gift to give the happy couple. Traditional things like champagne flutes and crockery crossed her mind but they all seemed a little bit…mumsy. Boring. Old fashioned. So, she'd painted Charlie and Catherine something. In a small box wrapped in white paper and tied with a pink ribbon was a watercolour painting. She hadn't made it a total likeness of the couple because she thought it might be a little bit odd. Florence thought they could hang it in a spare room somewhere if they liked it but she wouldn't be offended if they didn't. It was something heartfelt and that she hoped would encapsulate a happy day for them both. It would also save the effort of having to return it to a store.

"Aww," Florence cooed as her lower lip wobbled. Weddings were always emotional but she thought the speeches were especially lovely. Catherine's dad looked pleased as punch and so he should. Charlie's mum looked a little emotional, too. "I love weddings," she told Arkasha as she turned to him with a smile. Even though Charlie was her part time employer, she was thrilled that he and her husband were at least getting along with one another. "And I love you," she told Arkasha firmly as she shifted a little closer to him, inches away from being on his lap. Like everyone else, she applauded as each person spoke in turn and every time Charlie mentioned his new wife, Florence whooped.

Though she was taken (and happily so), Florence never shied away from trying to catch the bouquet. Why? Because she was competitive and the flowers were lovely and she wanted to take them home. "Let's dance," she asked Arkadiy as she stood and held his hand, leading him through the crowd of people who were chatting and mingling. There was a small crowd around the newlyweds and so, she decided to give them some breathing space. As she turned, she did offer them both a smile and a cheery wave as she blew them a kiss off her fingertips. "Oooh," she breathed as she caught sight of the food that was off to the side. "That cheese board looks incredible."