A Wedding in Arcadia #7 -- The Reception at Roma

by Merry Amelie (MerryAmelie@aol.com)

Archive: MA only

Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series

Rating: PG

Summary: A long-awaited party

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 56

A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/

My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

To Alex, Ula, and Nerowill, my friends and betas extraordinaire

Buoyed by their wedding kiss, Ian and Quinn walked the few blocks to Roma, not really feeling their feet touch the ground. Hand in hand again, without even thinking about it this time, they only had eyes for each other. The wedding party and their circle of family and friends surrounded them in warmth and bustling good cheer, propelling them along on a wave of fellowship.

The private rooms at Roma were ready for the newlyweds. Jo and Keith had trumped their plans to pay for the reception; their parental instincts would not allow it. They had come over yesterday to deliver the check and sign off on the arrangements.

Much to Ian's delight, the airy antechamber where they'd be served hors d'oeuvres had a blue ceiling painted with stars, just like his father had done in his Paduan bedroom on a smaller scale. Keith winked at him when his eyes came back to earth.

At their arrival, a string quartet started playing Pachelbel's Canon in D, the initial entry on their music list. This brought them back to their first real date in New Jersey. Guests came up to the men in pairs and family groups, all congratulating them, and wishing them well in the future.

After greeting everyone, Ian and Quinn sat at one of the little tables scattered throughout the room, basking in the happy currents drifting around them. A moment spent drinking each other in with silent awe seemed to last longer than the ceremony itself.

Quinn gazed at Ian with his vows written all over his face. "My husband," he thought in wonder. He was still astonished that it was true.

Ian reached out to grasp Quinn's warm fingers. "My husband," he thought in satisfaction. He was still flying -- he had a feeling that the high from the ceremony would last through next week.

A waiter handed Ian and Quinn champagne flutes, then passed them out to the others in preparation for the toasts. The best men stood in front of Quinn and Ian, their guests clustering behind them.

Keith spoke first, officially father now to both of them. He raised his glass to Ian and Quinn. "To my boys! I couldn't be more proud of you. I'm blessed to have such wonderful sons." He put a satisfied hand on Monty's shoulder. "May the wings of your love ne'er lose a feather!" A slight burr crept into his voice during the Scottish toast.

Ian stood to reply with the traditional thanksgiving. "On behalf of myself and my husband, thank you."

The four men took a sip of champagne, followed by their guests.

Monty went next. He'd researched Irish toasts to honor Quinn. "To my brothers! May the roof over your heads be as well-thatched as those inside are well-matched."

Quinn rose and thanked him in Irish Gaelic, befitting the toast. "Go raibh maith agat."

Another sip, and the crowd burst into enthusiastic applause, many of them understanding each word and nuance. On cue, servers began roaming the room, laden with delicacies.

For once, the men didn't play waiter-tag, preferring to relax at their table, and let the treats come to them.

Quinn didn't think he'd ever seen his lad so bright-eyed; marriage definitely agreed with him. He'd only had two sips of champagne, but Ian was positively bubbly. His natural conviviality had been freed by the ceremony.

Ian couldn't take his eyes off Quinn's enchanting smile; even the joyful noise surrounding them didn't distract him. Only when someone actually came to their table did he tear his eyes away.

"I've never seen Ian look happier." Quinn's smile deepened upon hearing these words at the next table. "It does my heart good to see him like this." Mine too, Quinn mused, thinking fondly of the elderly lady who spoke.

People swirled around them like ever-changing autumn leaves, blown up and down from their tables, occasionally drifting over to chat, swept into new configurations by a trail of party cheer.

Then the doors opened to the main room. An autumn rhapsody awaited them there. A hardwood dance floor shone at the center of six round tables decorated in Luke colors, their cream tablecloths covered by seven settings apiece with brown linen napkins. Each held a centerpiece of autumnal flowers nesting a pair of porcelain skyhawks.

Jo and Kathy had outdone themselves on the preparations. Ian and Quinn hugged the women gratefully, then headed over to their table with them, a pleasant evocation of their cruise last May: the happy couple, Jo and Keith, Lelia with Kathy and Monty. The core of their family.

Now there wasn't the slightest confusion about the proper pairs.

The quartet began to play a Bach sonata, adding flavor to their meal. A salad with prosciutto and shaved parmesan already graced their plates. Their favorite cuisine tasted even better on this special day, particularly after a breakfast of only fruit.

Monty said, "This reminds me of when we were growing up. Whenever Mom and Dad asked where Ian wanted to eat, he'd always say 'Dante's'." The local restaurant had become a family favorite; it was close enough to home for them to ride their bikes there.

Everyone laughed. Quinn and Ian's passion for Italian food was a worse-kept secret than their addiction to Italian coffees afterwards.

Ian took Quinn's hand, and Quinn entwined their fingers. "Only fitting that this is where we had our first date."

The family looked at him with rapt smiles; Ian had never shared the details of their courtship before.

"We'd quickly decided that the cafeteria was hopeless, so I suggested trying a nearby eatery. And we were lucky enough to find this place."

"Lucky enough to find each other," Jo said softly.

"Amen to that," Keith said, patting her hand.

The main course arrived: veal piccata with mushroom risotto, adding a touch of hobbit to the festivities. Now this was a proper wedding feast. They relished each bite all the more with fingers still interlaced, Ian's hand warming Quinn's wedding band as they ate. The love of their family was as nourishing as the food on their plates.

The string quartet segued into Moon River, the first music they'd danced to in public, and Quinn and Ian got up for their first dance as a married couple. Their relatives started clapping around them, and they had the floor to themselves for now.

The two became one elegant line on the dance floor, the three-quarter time of the waltz ideally suited to their shared style. Dancing with Ian was so incredibly sensual that Quinn thought it was a good thing that they'd always done it in private before their second cruise. Their lips couldn't help but come together midway through as they unconsciously pressed closer. A sublime moment later, they could feel their feet again. Knowing that their next dances would be with Jo and Kathy, they reined in their natural drives and concentrated on the joy of the moment and the love in each other's eyes.

When the music changed to Nat King Cole's Autumn Leaves, they began to dance with the ladies. This was the signal for the others to join in if they wished. The swirl of guests in conversation transmuted to the swirl of couples on the dance floor. The women in their party dresses brought grace and color to the room, leaves dancing over the interior landscape.

When they returned to their table, Aunt Jane was waiting with her digital camera. She first took pictures of Ian and Quinn standing with their arms around one another, then got a table shot and waved as she left to photograph the rest. Keith had been videotaping the action whenever he had a free moment; Quinn and Ian would have a rich trove of images to commemorate the occasion.

Much to their surprise and delight, Uncle Rory brought the wedding cake over to them on an ornate cart, no one but the grooms and Jo aware of the significance of his gesture. He gave them a genuine smile, and left them to the cake-cutting ceremony. Apology accepted.

The quartet started to play Candy Man, much to Lelia's delight. She started humming in her mother's arms, more awake now. Ian would make sure to set aside a tiny piece of cake with a blue flower on top for her. The three-tiered cake was their favorite -- chocolate mocha hazelnut torte -- and they sliced into it together as if they'd done it a thousand times before.

Ian grabbed an enormous hunk to hand-feed Quinn, who lost his inhibitions fast, and proceeded to do the same to Ian. Icing got all over their cheeks and chins, Quinn looking especially delectable in his new 'whiskers'. Some cake did make it to their mouths, and they absently savored the taste of it, more interested in thoughts of their deliciously-iced mate. Both Keith and Aunt Jane couldn't resist getting shots of their uncharacteristic messiness.

If they were at home, they would have licked the icing off each other in delight, but here they settled for napkins thoughtfully provided by Kathy. All cleaned up, they sat down for dessert.

Looking at everyone in turn around the table, Ian said, "This is the happiest day of my life, ma fowk (my family). We can't thank you enough."

Keith reached over to pat his shoulder. "You have already, Ian. You look just like Monty did seven years ago."

The whole table broke into smiles, including Lelia, who didn't understand the conversation, but felt their emotion.

Quinn smiled shyly. "My thanks also. I couldn't ask for better in-laws. What a wonderful family!"

Jo kissed him on the cheek. "Which you've belonged to for years now, son. This is just the icing on the cake." Winking, she handed Ian a napkin to wipe a neglected corner of Quinn's lip, which she pointed out with a grin.

They started to make the rounds of tables, thanking each guest for sharing their happiness with them. Then, in the tradition of newlyweds everywhere, the grooms slipped away with the party still in progress.

Their marriage bed awaited.