A/N: There were multiple things I wanted to do here. Initially I was going to do a fade from the wedding planning to the actual wedding, and then I checked my timeline and realized I wanted to write a "Lovers' First Holidays" episode and we're currently in October, so…. Then I realized how short a time Trent and Cygnet have actually been involved and figured I'd address that before someone else addressed it for me. It's handwaved, like everything else. I also wanted to do a couple scenes showing her helping him with some of his fears, and him helping her with some of hers. I apologize in advance if this chapter seems random and aimless; like I said, my goal is to create a warm, fuzzy, slice-of-life fic for my friends and me to enjoy.
Many thanks to the lovely Rebecca Butler for allowing me to drag her into the fandom, for solidarity regarding Trent, and for giving this fic a read! We've decided amongst ourselves that Lucius Malfoy is our devious husband, and Trent Maddock is our wholesome husband. Or at least, as wholesome as any guy we go for would be LOL!
"So, beachside wedding is out, then?" Cygnet looked so disappointed.
Trent considered it. "... Can we do it far away from the ocean? I don't want to risk drowning." He was still getting used to water. Bathing with Cygnet had helped immensely; he enjoyed cuddling in the bath so much that he was able to relax a little bit, rather than relying on spot-washing in the shower. That, and Cygnet liked bathing and pampering him just as much as he liked pampering her.
"Ah, I hear ya," she said. "When I was 24, I had an asthma attack in a rip tide. Super not-fun. And of course we'd do the ceremony on high ground! Besides obviously not wanting anyone to drown—"
"I saw the guest list; jury's out on that—"
"—we also don't want to risk our lovely preparations being swept away in a tide, now, do we?"
That, he could agree to. "Can we circle back to the turtleneck wedding dress, now?" he asked.
She smiled tightly. "Okay, fair enough. Let's have the neck and sleeves be lace, but made of super-soft thread. Straight-cut across the chest and back, and then a kind of gentle flaring out from the hips."
Trent nodded and typed out her description. He was sitting next to Clarence at Clarence's desk; Cygnet was rocking Elior in the recliner.
"Elior wants to be the flower boy," said Clarence. Elior nodded his agreement.
"And he'll be the most handsome flower boy there ever was," Cygnet cooed, nuzzling the top of her son's head. Elior beamed and slapped the arm of the recliner happily. "Let's have a judge officiate; I don't want to have to answer awkward questions from a minister."
"And you already decided that instead of one big cake, you're going to have a collection of cupcakes arranged to look like a cake, with a different flavor cupcake every layer." Clarence was reading from the cloud-based task list.
"And muffins!" Elior added; muffins were his favorite food.
"Yeah, it's easier to account for tastes that way. Okay, that just leaves wedding song and band or DJ?"
"Fuck DJ's," said Clarence automatically.
"Why don't you hire your band, babygirl?" asked Trent.
Cygnet thought about it. "I could… I'll also ask people we've collaborated with in the past, sans Yamazaki, of course."
"Why did you invite her, again?" asked Clarence, looking clearly disgusted.
"To be petty," she replied casually.
"I'd ask if I was the only one not having an ex at this wedding, but then I remember, I dated her too."
"Yep." They all grimaced.
"Well, hopefully she doesn't cause a scene and ruin our wedding-slash-Trent's birthday."
Clarence scoffed. "You invited your ex and his ex, and you're hoping there won't be a scene? Yeah. Good luck with that."
"Alright, so let's talk songs."
The wedding wasn't for another six months. They'd decided on Trent's 33rd birthday; by that point, he would have known her for almost four years and she would have known him for ten months. Meanwhile, she and Clarence had first discussed marriage two months after they'd met. Here they'd been, seven and a half years later, with a toddler but no marriage plans beyond "Let's go to City Hall after we've both been working for a while so neither of us would be fully financially supporting the other, you know, to prevent talks of alimony down the line."
It wasn't that Cygnet wanted to get married and Clarence had been dragging his feet. It went deeper than that. Four months into Cygnet's and Clarence's relationship, she'd been hospitalized on suicide watch after his family had forced him to choose between her and them. Oh, he'd regretted his choice and come back to her, but it had not been their first big fight, nor their last. Things had mostly settled down after her postpartum depression faded last year, but even so….
Trent soaked up affection from her like a tree soaks up sunlight. They were technically still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, but Cygnet felt he'd had enough time to decide whether she was what he was looking for. He'd observed her for years before making a move, and she felt she'd spent enough time with him— morning, noon, and night— to gauge whether his romantic innocence was an act. If it was, he must be a masterful actor, because it hadn't slipped once. She did sense that he would absolutely spiral if she were to ever leave him, but that wasn't a problem for her, because she was the same way. She, personally, had the habit of testing people to see whether they were going to abandon her. If he'd been testing her, well, he would surely have mentioned it if she had failed.
So her options were to wait around for Elior to get into preschool so Clarence would be comfortable going back to work, and get her BA in business so she could find a better job than her last one, and then get married; remain in what she considered a bizarre limbo with both men, looking over her shoulder constantly for signs one or both of them would grow impatient with their situation; or marry Trent— tender, romantic Trent, who fit seamlessly into her family, who was already a successful business owner and could easily help provide for Elior's future, who had never once accused her of being needy, who in fact delighted in her attentions…
...who had brought her libido roaring back when she'd been convinced it was dead in the water even before Elior…
The choice was pretty clear in her mind.
Trent was over the moon! Finally, finally, a woman he loved wanted a future with him! He didn't have to try to manifest or litter his walls with Post-Its convincing himself that she loved him; the proof was in her every word, her every touch.
His mother had been surprised, to say the least, when he had called her and said he wanted to introduce her to his paramour, and that no, it wasn't Rebecca. She was laid-back and he knew she would want him to be happy, but she was still a mother, and would probably question Cygnet's credentials. On paper, she looked far less like an ideal daughter-in-law; the word "prenup" had been mentioned, to Trent's consternation.
He told Cygnet that his mother had "invited" her to Iowa for a visit to discuss said prenup.
She arched an eyebrow at him. "The woman who let you almost drown as a kid is concerned about your safety? No, I mean, I get it. That was just your life, after all, but God forbid your money be put in danger. Yeah, I'll go. She'll probably hate me, though."
"She will if you say that," Clarence muttered.
Trent had told her the other reason he didn't like water when she'd brought him to the gym with her to use their heated indoor pool. She had bought them matching wetsuits for solidarity, and she'd bought him a swim mask and large pool noodle. He'd been terrified, almost visibly shaking, and she had taken his hands in hers and told him she would be by his side every second. At least he felt safe in the wetsuit, less exposed than if he'd simply worn the swim trunks he'd bought in SoCal but never worn.
She had held his hand and led him down the stairs in the shallow end. "Just stay by me," she had said soothingly, before stroking his arm and releasing his hand. "Now put your pool noodle under this part of your chest, that's it, let's make this even…. Swim mask on. It covers your nose so it'll restrict your breathing, but at least you won't have to worry about getting water in your nose. If it fogs up, just take it off and dip it in the water, then put it back on." She had put on her own swim mask once her swim noodle was comfortably situated under her breasts. "Now you're going to lean forward and just walk on the floor. When you run out of floor, your noodle will hold you up, and your legs will automatically tread water. It's okay, just stay next to me, that's the ticket."
Her gentle reassurance had invigorated him, and he found being in water wasn't as scary as he'd thought when he had the right tools to keep him afloat. She'd smiled reassuringly at him as they floated into the deep end.
"Just don't let go of your noodle," she had said, and how could he, when he was draped over it? "Now you can put your face under the surface and watch how the light moves along the floor and the walls; just remember to come up for breath."
He had done as she instructed, and the view was fascinating. He remembered reading something once about "rapture of the deep", where someone would become so enamored with the water that they wouldn't want to come out, and they would drown. He wasn't there yet— he would never be there— but he could see why people liked to wear goggles and swim masks in the water now.
When he had pulled his head out of the water, he was shaking again. He'd done it at the last minute, and only because he'd felt her hand on his shoulder.
"Okay, let's… let's put the masks aside for now," she had said, clearly worried. "Let's not do that again for a while." And she had taken their masks and put them by the side of the pool.
They had swum together for about half an hour before deciding they were hungry. All in all, it had been a good experience for him, and he felt he could go again, as long as she was by his side. He felt he could do anything, as long as she was by his side.
Cygnet had traveled extensively— to places like Switzerland, Canada, New York, and Texas— but never to Iowa. She wasn't sure what to expect, but just as she had reassured Trent in the pool, Trent reassured her on the plane. She snuggled into him, finding solace in his touch, and rather than leaving her hollow and just letting her, he wrapped an arm around her and comforted her. Waves of love for him swelled in her chest as she gazed up at him, smiling contentedly.
The trip went about as well as either of them could have expected. Mrs. Maddock was a pretty older woman with a straight dark bob and kind eyes. She interrogated Cygnet a bit, the way parents do, but Cygnet answered smoothly for the most part. She admitted that she was a single mother, and added that she was also an independent film producer, craft store co-owner and craftsperson, was going back to school for business administration, and did a bit of singing and modeling on the side. She was ambitious and enterprising, but not in any of her fields for the money. She didn't specify the nature of the music or modeling she was involved in, of course.
When asked whether she'd be willing to sign a prenup, she said, "Of course. I love your son, Mrs. Maddock. He's put so much trust in me already, and I know how someone in my situation must look, paired with such a handsome and brilliant man. I just want you to know, I respect how well he's done for himself, and I wouldn't ever want to take any of that away from him. We'll meet with a lawyer first thing when we get back to California."
And so they did. Trent had already scheduled a planning meeting, anyway. Cygnet told Trent she wouldn't agree to anything that precluded her continuing to see Clarence, since Clarence was already afraid Trent was going to edge him out. Trent agreed to that. They filled out paperwork together stating basically what they expected from each other, and they were in agreement about everything. They'd meet again in a few weeks to go over the draft, and again to sign the final document.
"Well, she didn't hate me," Cygnet said. "I'm sure she'll even embrace me if we manage to get Elior into Harvard."
After having seen Mr. Dryderin's reaction to Cygnet, both in her diary and in person, Trent understood Cygnet's bitterness and cynicism. But he assured her it would all be okay, and she seemed to believe him.