brunhilde

Mortimer’s eyes goes to the ceiling the minute that Lena starts applying tape, as if he can’t bear to watch.

Which probably makes it all that more insulting when a muscle in his jaw jumps in irritation, and he says, snippy, “You’ve put in the wrong place.”

“You’ve killed a man with tape?” Mortimer’s back to sounding scandalized, squinting at said potential weapon. “Why am I not surprised. You’ve probably killed a man with– I don’t know, a bloody thimble. Just wire me up and get it over with.”

It’s unclear what finally breaks Mortimer’s resolve: the stamping of feet, the demand, or his own impatience with the situation. Whatever it is, he grumbles out a grudging, “God, fine, alright,” and starts shrugging out of his layers. There’s a lot of them. The jacket first, then the sweater. The shirt underneath he only unbuttons, one-handed and scowling the entire time. “There. Have at it. Please try to not maim me in the process.”

Mortimer makes a highly scandalized face. “That’s not necessary,” he nitpicks defensively. “You can just– here, here you go.” He pulls down the collar of his t-shirt. “There, plenty of access.”

“Hilarious,” Mortimer grumbles, eyeing the tape in her hand like it’s a poisonous viper. He still hasn’t taken so much as his jacket off to help with the process, arms tightly folded across his chest. “Perhaps I can do this part myself?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds like an excellent way to have a constructive conversation,” Mortimer replies acerbically, hunched in on himself, clearly none too happy that he’s shortly going to have to withstand being touched. “What will I do if she answers every question that way? Just go round and round in a circle of endless questions?”

“Be polite, and answer their questions with questions.” 

“it has been it feels like this should have happened years ago for them. i honestly cannot wait for all this to begin.” klara smiled at the thought. “you know for a moment i was going to say i could tough it out. but, i’m going to be on my feet all day. i should sit now.” even sitting was a bit of a struggle with her large stomach but she made it in okay. “why did i go with heels?”

Mortimer, as is his wont, immediately wants to argue. Because dear god, she really shouldn’t forgive him so easily and without question – not just for his behavior on that mission, but for his choices.

But one of the first things his father had very dryly said to him this morning was: do try not to argue with everyone today, Mortimer, it’s supposed to be a happy day. Apparently his parents knew him better than he thought, which is… vexing. So he takes the urge to argue, and shoves it away. For now, at least.

“You might be right. We did, after all, survive twice despite impossible odds,” he agrees wryly. “Let’s ensure there’s not a third time, yes? I honestly don’t think my constitution could take it.” The first time had been hard enough. The second time? After he’d solidified his connections to them? Monumentally worse.

Lena thought back on five years ago. The day she’d stepped forward and admitted to working against them. She’d sabotaged their mission, endangered their lives, lied, lied, and lied again. And yet he trusted her to give blood to the one he held dearest. Perhaps it wasn’t forgiveness and perhaps it manifested from desperation, but there was a sense of unity between them. No matter how they felt or what they did they knew they were entwined. There was something beautiful and terrifying about that. 

“This was only the second time for you?” she laughs, “My god you’ve gotten off easy. I’ve lost track of all the times I’d had to survive despite impossible odds. But I’m content to let that quantifiable number slip into oblivion and antiquity. If the world is ending again let’s just . . . let it. Get a drink and play some volleyball. Burn a few buildings, if we feel like it.” 

She took a step back to look at all of him and sighed wistfully, “Two of the people I love more than the world getting married. And yet for some reason I feel more nervous than I ever have before. And I just watched my boyfriend get his leg cut off.” 

Mortimer doesn’t bother to quash an amused little smirk when he takes in the sight of Lena’s station – god, she really is prepared for anything. He knew it had been the right choice to make her best man. Who’s more capable than Lena? Nobody, that’s who.

“Yes, alright, thank you, we don’t need to be exposing all of my inner emotions to the world this early in the morning,” he sighs, even if she’s right. He just wants to say I do to Levi and then fuck off to their honeymoon, but he’ll admit: there’s something deeply satisfying about today. About seeing all the people he cares about in one place, looking healthy and happy. 

As Lena carefully makes sure his bow tie perfect, he watches her work, and he needs to say it:

“I’m sorry. For how I treated you.” He’s had months to think about it, now, to reflect back on how he’d acted. To think about all the times Lena had saved his ungrateful ass. “I was– you disappeared because you were worried about the safety of you and your family, and I should have acknowledged that. I should have respected that. I was too caught up in my own hurt to see what it must have like for you, after our first mission.” He wrings his hands, and even though his affection is real and genuine, he still has to force himself to say it, like blood from a stone: “I love you. You ought to know that.”

Ever since that day in the Red Square, Lena had been hoping and planning for this eventuality. She never truly believed in a happy ending for herself. and especially at that time, five years ago, she didn’t believe she even deserved happiness. But she’d spent all the time between then and now hoping to keep the two of them safe so that maybe this day could come to fruition. And here it was. She’d made some mistakes along the way. Like trying to get Levi off the team to protect him from Vronsky or distancing herself so that they could never be accused of treason. Somehow, it all worked out. 

“Don’t taunt me,dear,” she teased, “The moment you mention you’re trying to keep me out is the moment I get the urge to take a hammer and batter you with it until your chest spills out all it’s secrets. Maybe even what’s truly in your heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course. 

At his words her hands and smile fell. After a moment of looking up into the watery blue eyes that had so often dodged her gaze she sighed and smiled. Reaching up to tuck a stray hair into place, she spoke softly, “I never for a moment questioned otherwise. I love you too, Mortimer. And you were right to be angry just as I was right to be paranoid. Sometimes it can be hard to be right, wrong, and upset all at the same time. But we got through. Just as we’ll get through all things.” 

Levi scrubs his hand through his hair and ducks his head. “I never…” he says quietly. He shakes his head a bit. “It never even crossed my mind. That this would ever happen.” He knows Lena will understand.

She bats his shoulder with her hand, it’s gentle but clear she’s holding herself back from a genuine shoulder punch. “Don’t you dare make me cry today Levi!” she exclaimed, “I’ve done far too much work to go through today with makeup running down my face!” 

“But I suppose for all I dreamed about my wedding as a little girl when I joined MI6 I crossed that possibility of my list. Perhaps I should do it one day. You tell me how you feel after tonight and I’ll see if I want to go for it.” 

His bowtie is probably rumpled because Mortimer keeps fiddling with it every time his mother starts to talk in his vague direction, and god, Mortimer’s beginning to regret inviting her to the wedding.

“Yes, alright, if you must,” he sighs thinly, aggrieved, yanking his bowtie off. “Christ, I’ve participated in rocket tests that were less stressful than this. Why did we think it was a good idea to invite anybody outside of you lot?” Relatives, ugh.

Lena took the bowtie over the the station she’d set up. Equipped with an iron, ironing board, sewing machine, and full repair and first aid kits, she was prepared for any hitch in the plan. As best man she took it as her mission to ensure that this wedding continued according to plan. 

“Because this is an important moment, dear,” she told him, smoothing out the creases in the bow tie, “If you didn’t invite them it would be because you didn’t care about them being here. And you do care, you care more than you want to admit, and that’s why you’re getting so antsy.  But remember, going forward from today you’re making a new life and you get to choose who is in it. So if they do something tonight that makes you upset it’s not unreasonable to consider cutting ties. Everyone knows to be on their best behavior for a wedding.” 

Levi barks out a laugh. “I’m ready for it all to happen, certainly. I’ve spent enough time planning the damn thing, that I’m ready to stop worrying about it anymore.”

“Oh please tell me you’ve been dreaming of this since you were a little boy. I need to know if all the details match. Or what you decided to change.”