An unexpected wedding
Feb. 23rd, 2014 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
solrosanNotes: The first version of this was written as the wedding between Sherlock and Madeleine ('Anthea' of the SMS-series). For 'Anthea''s real name I'm using the name given in the ASiP script.
Summary: Sherlock and 'Anthea''s wedding.
Sherlock looked up from buttoning his grey waistcoat as John entered the small hotel room, placing his top hat next to Sherlock’s on the side table.
“You look very neat,” he said after looking him over from top to toe.
“Good, because ‘neat’ was the adjective I was going for,” John said, smiling. “You look pretty neat yourself.”
“Do you think ‘neat’ will be good enough?”
“I’d say so.” John picked up Sherlock’s coat and helped him get into it. As Sherlock straightened the sleeves John brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders.
They placed themselves side-by-side in front of the mirror, inspecting their newly tailored morning dresses, finding them as flawless this morning as they had found them at the tailor’s and just as perfect as when they had gone over them yesterday. The grey waistcoats fitted perfectly, as did the trousers and the coats. Their shoes were spotless – John had joked about his military training being useful once again – and their shirts well pressed. They each had a dark pink rose in their buttonhole and their top hats waiting for them at the door.
“I don’t think we’ve looked this neat since my wedding,” John said. “Though there was a little bit more colour that day.”
“I’d hardly call golden cream a colour,” said Sherlock, rolling his eyes. “And I assure you I had absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“The groom never does,” John told him and patted his shoulder.
Sherlock looked at himself in the mirror. “Do you remember before your wedding, when you said that ‘groom’ might be the scariest word in the English language?”
“Yes, I care to remember that you snorted and said I was giving a ridiculous religious ceremony a disproportional amount of significance.”
“Yes…” Sherlock wet his lip with his tongue. “I’d like to apologise and take it back.”
John chuckled. “Apology accepted. But don’t worry; the scary part is over pretty fast.”
“You still think this is insane.”
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Why would I?” John smiled, shaking his head. “Sure, I’m more traditional and prefer to date a bit and have some sex before I propose to a woman, but Sherlock… You love her, you’ve loved her for longer than I’ve known Mary. That—”
“Stop it right there.” Sherlock held up a hand in his face. “If you become all sentimental I’m not going to be able to do this.”
“Sorry.” John chuckled. “I think you’re both insane. Period.”
“Good.” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit!” John gave Sherlock an encouraging pat on the back before reaching for their hats.
-x-
A single violin brought the congregation to silence and every head in the church turned towards the top of the aisle where the Sherlock stood, playing his violin with his eyes closed. He played with the same calm and confidence as if he would have been alone at home. Then he opened his eyes and the melody changed slightly, its pace speeding up a bit, as the doors opened and the bride appeared at her father’s side. Her dress was simple, and very obviously inspired by Pippa Middleton’s bridesmaids dress, and her veil stopped just below the last button in the back.
Andrea found Sherlock’s eyes right away and they both smiled uncharacteristically big smiles as she walked towards him. When she reached him her father gave her cheek a kiss and Sherlock let the last note echo into space, leaving the room in complete silence. For a moment the bridal couple just looked at each other, their smiles turning into smirks, before Sherlock turned and gave the Stradivarius to John. The men exchanged a slightly amused look before Sherlock turned back to Andrea and offered her his hand.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest begun as the couple turned their back to the congregation. “We are gathered here in the presence of God, and before friends and family, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honourable and beautiful estate, and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but instead with love, respect, friendship, and honour. Into this estate these two persons present come now to be joined.
“So I ask you, William Sherlock Scott: will you have this woman to your wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Sherlock answered, his voice sounding just a bit higher than usual.
“And will you, Andrea Sophia Emilia,” the priest said, turning to Andrea, “have this man to your wedded husband, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Andrea said and the bride and groom looked at each other with, wide, surprised smiles.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
“I give myself to this man,” Andrea said, sounding just a little bit lippy as she did so.
“And I give myself to this woman,” Sherlock added. Mycroft frowned a bit, but John, who looked over at Mary, almost sobbed.
“Sherlock, repeat after me please. I, William Sherlock Scott.”
Sherlock took a moment to close his eyes before he met Andrea’s eyes and started to repeat after the priest:
“I, William Sherlock Scott, take you, Andrea Sophia Emilia, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love, cherish and obey.”
Andrea failed to supress a giggle, they had debated a lot about that and she had refused to promise to obey him. Even if it was just in front of a god no of them believed in. They had decided on taking it out of the vows and adding it like this was most likely just to annoy Mycroft, which made it all the better.
“Till death do us part, according to God’s holy law, and thereto I give you my troth.”
Sherlock’s voice trembled slightly and almost disappeared at the last line. Andrea squeezed his hand as the priest turned to face her, but neither she nor Sherlock were looking at anything but each other.
“Andrea, repeat after me please. I, Andrea Sophia Emilia.”
“I, Andrea Sophia Emilia, take you William Sherlock Scott to my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law, and thereto I give you my troth.”
The church became silence for a moment before Sherlock let go of his bride’s hands and turned to John to get the ring. John fumbled slightly before he managed to get the ring out of his pocket, but as he placed the ring in Sherlock’s hand he saw that it trembled just as much as his own. They shared another smile and John nodded reassuring.
This would all be over soon.
Sherlock passed the ring to the priest, who blessed it:
“Bless, O Lord, this ring, and grant that he who gives it and she who shall wear it may remain faithful to each other, and abide in your peace and favour, and live together in love until their lives' end. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Exactly four people in the congregation joined in the ‘amen’ as Sherlock got the ring back and took Andrea’s hand. His hand trembled even worse now and he couldn’t help shaking his head in small frustration about his inability to shut off the irrational feelings.
“Repeat after me,” the priest asked Sherlock. “With this ring I wed you.”
“With this ring I wed you; with my body I honour you; and all my worldly goods will I share with you: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Very slowly placed the ring on Andrea’s finger, they were both smiling uncharacteristically again and looked almost shyly at one another. The priest joined their hands together and looked out at the people in the church.
“Those whom God has joined together, let no man separate. Forasmuch as Sherlock and Andrea have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
This time John was one of the few who also said ‘Amen’ and a smile that was very hard to interpret crept over Mycroft’s lips, making him look almost pleasant. Andrea’s eyes seemed a bit wet and Sherlock let go of a trembling breath. Now it was all over.
Almost.
They both avoided eye contact. Sherlock was looking down at their hands and Andrea at his lips. This had been their other big debate beforehand: should they kiss inside the church or not? John had sided on ‘yes, of course!’, but the bride and groom had been a bit more hesitant.
“Well then,” Sherlock whispered, looking up to meet her eyes.
“Oh hush,” she said.
“You can kiss the bride,” the priest whispered. Sherlock glared at him, but didn’t have the time to scare the poor man back to the dark ages because Andrea took the opportunity to kiss him. Sherlock went numb.
John had to bite his lip to not giggle.
“Mr and Mrs Holmes, ladies and gentlemen,” the priest said and both bride and groom blushed, it sounded weird, wrong. It was wrong, Andrea wasn’t going to take Sherlock’s last name, but for now it was just shocking and surrealistic.
They looked at each other, laughing in happiness and relief. Married to something else than their work, who would ever have thought?
Summary: Sherlock and 'Anthea''s wedding.
Sherlock looked up from buttoning his grey waistcoat as John entered the small hotel room, placing his top hat next to Sherlock’s on the side table.
“You look very neat,” he said after looking him over from top to toe.
“Good, because ‘neat’ was the adjective I was going for,” John said, smiling. “You look pretty neat yourself.”
“Do you think ‘neat’ will be good enough?”
“I’d say so.” John picked up Sherlock’s coat and helped him get into it. As Sherlock straightened the sleeves John brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders.
They placed themselves side-by-side in front of the mirror, inspecting their newly tailored morning dresses, finding them as flawless this morning as they had found them at the tailor’s and just as perfect as when they had gone over them yesterday. The grey waistcoats fitted perfectly, as did the trousers and the coats. Their shoes were spotless – John had joked about his military training being useful once again – and their shirts well pressed. They each had a dark pink rose in their buttonhole and their top hats waiting for them at the door.
“I don’t think we’ve looked this neat since my wedding,” John said. “Though there was a little bit more colour that day.”
“I’d hardly call golden cream a colour,” said Sherlock, rolling his eyes. “And I assure you I had absolutely nothing to do with this.”
“The groom never does,” John told him and patted his shoulder.
Sherlock looked at himself in the mirror. “Do you remember before your wedding, when you said that ‘groom’ might be the scariest word in the English language?”
“Yes, I care to remember that you snorted and said I was giving a ridiculous religious ceremony a disproportional amount of significance.”
“Yes…” Sherlock wet his lip with his tongue. “I’d like to apologise and take it back.”
John chuckled. “Apology accepted. But don’t worry; the scary part is over pretty fast.”
“You still think this is insane.”
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Why would I?” John smiled, shaking his head. “Sure, I’m more traditional and prefer to date a bit and have some sex before I propose to a woman, but Sherlock… You love her, you’ve loved her for longer than I’ve known Mary. That—”
“Stop it right there.” Sherlock held up a hand in his face. “If you become all sentimental I’m not going to be able to do this.”
“Sorry.” John chuckled. “I think you’re both insane. Period.”
“Good.” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit!” John gave Sherlock an encouraging pat on the back before reaching for their hats.
-x-
A single violin brought the congregation to silence and every head in the church turned towards the top of the aisle where the Sherlock stood, playing his violin with his eyes closed. He played with the same calm and confidence as if he would have been alone at home. Then he opened his eyes and the melody changed slightly, its pace speeding up a bit, as the doors opened and the bride appeared at her father’s side. Her dress was simple, and very obviously inspired by Pippa Middleton’s bridesmaids dress, and her veil stopped just below the last button in the back.
Andrea found Sherlock’s eyes right away and they both smiled uncharacteristically big smiles as she walked towards him. When she reached him her father gave her cheek a kiss and Sherlock let the last note echo into space, leaving the room in complete silence. For a moment the bridal couple just looked at each other, their smiles turning into smirks, before Sherlock turned and gave the Stradivarius to John. The men exchanged a slightly amused look before Sherlock turned back to Andrea and offered her his hand.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest begun as the couple turned their back to the congregation. “We are gathered here in the presence of God, and before friends and family, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is an honourable and beautiful estate, and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but instead with love, respect, friendship, and honour. Into this estate these two persons present come now to be joined.
“So I ask you, William Sherlock Scott: will you have this woman to your wedded wife, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Sherlock answered, his voice sounding just a bit higher than usual.
“And will you, Andrea Sophia Emilia,” the priest said, turning to Andrea, “have this man to your wedded husband, to live together according to God's law in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”
“I will,” Andrea said and the bride and groom looked at each other with, wide, surprised smiles.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
“I give myself to this man,” Andrea said, sounding just a little bit lippy as she did so.
“And I give myself to this woman,” Sherlock added. Mycroft frowned a bit, but John, who looked over at Mary, almost sobbed.
“Sherlock, repeat after me please. I, William Sherlock Scott.”
Sherlock took a moment to close his eyes before he met Andrea’s eyes and started to repeat after the priest:
“I, William Sherlock Scott, take you, Andrea Sophia Emilia, to my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love, cherish and obey.”
Andrea failed to supress a giggle, they had debated a lot about that and she had refused to promise to obey him. Even if it was just in front of a god no of them believed in. They had decided on taking it out of the vows and adding it like this was most likely just to annoy Mycroft, which made it all the better.
“Till death do us part, according to God’s holy law, and thereto I give you my troth.”
Sherlock’s voice trembled slightly and almost disappeared at the last line. Andrea squeezed his hand as the priest turned to face her, but neither she nor Sherlock were looking at anything but each other.
“Andrea, repeat after me please. I, Andrea Sophia Emilia.”
“I, Andrea Sophia Emilia, take you William Sherlock Scott to my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law, and thereto I give you my troth.”
The church became silence for a moment before Sherlock let go of his bride’s hands and turned to John to get the ring. John fumbled slightly before he managed to get the ring out of his pocket, but as he placed the ring in Sherlock’s hand he saw that it trembled just as much as his own. They shared another smile and John nodded reassuring.
This would all be over soon.
Sherlock passed the ring to the priest, who blessed it:
“Bless, O Lord, this ring, and grant that he who gives it and she who shall wear it may remain faithful to each other, and abide in your peace and favour, and live together in love until their lives' end. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
Exactly four people in the congregation joined in the ‘amen’ as Sherlock got the ring back and took Andrea’s hand. His hand trembled even worse now and he couldn’t help shaking his head in small frustration about his inability to shut off the irrational feelings.
“Repeat after me,” the priest asked Sherlock. “With this ring I wed you.”
“With this ring I wed you; with my body I honour you; and all my worldly goods will I share with you: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Very slowly placed the ring on Andrea’s finger, they were both smiling uncharacteristically again and looked almost shyly at one another. The priest joined their hands together and looked out at the people in the church.
“Those whom God has joined together, let no man separate. Forasmuch as Sherlock and Andrea have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
This time John was one of the few who also said ‘Amen’ and a smile that was very hard to interpret crept over Mycroft’s lips, making him look almost pleasant. Andrea’s eyes seemed a bit wet and Sherlock let go of a trembling breath. Now it was all over.
Almost.
They both avoided eye contact. Sherlock was looking down at their hands and Andrea at his lips. This had been their other big debate beforehand: should they kiss inside the church or not? John had sided on ‘yes, of course!’, but the bride and groom had been a bit more hesitant.
“Well then,” Sherlock whispered, looking up to meet her eyes.
“Oh hush,” she said.
“You can kiss the bride,” the priest whispered. Sherlock glared at him, but didn’t have the time to scare the poor man back to the dark ages because Andrea took the opportunity to kiss him. Sherlock went numb.
John had to bite his lip to not giggle.
“Mr and Mrs Holmes, ladies and gentlemen,” the priest said and both bride and groom blushed, it sounded weird, wrong. It was wrong, Andrea wasn’t going to take Sherlock’s last name, but for now it was just shocking and surrealistic.
They looked at each other, laughing in happiness and relief. Married to something else than their work, who would ever have thought?
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no subject
Date: 2014-02-23 09:05 pm (UTC)Alright, I misgive the small smile on Mycroft's face. Am believing that Anthea will still be working for him and the fact that he commands Anthea and Sherlock has pledged to obey ....
no subject
Date: 2014-02-24 07:13 pm (UTC)