Been watching the Syfy series Defiance for a little while now, and I have to say, it's pretty cool! My favorite characters are definitely the Tarrs, and Christie is just so sweet, I think the pairing between her and Alak is an interesting dynamic, and seeing as they're soon to be married in the show, I've had all these ideas about what their early days as a married couple would be like. I mean thus far, we've seen how vastly different Castithan and Human expectations and lifestyles are like, so, I'm here to have a little fun with the culture clash! Also, I put this in the description, but this is indeeda series of oneshots. Every other chapter will alternate between Alak and Christie. :)

A PROPER CASTITHAN MARRIAGE

Chapter 1 –––– The Wedding (A&C)

The sixteen-year-old tried not to writhe about. She was used to running around freely in old bluejeans, sneakers and loose-fitting tee shirts, today, all of that had been cast aside for a much more formal [and expensive] alternative.

Christie McCawley stood atop a dressing stool, teetering on a pair of too-high heels. From below, her soon-to-be mother inlaw directed the many attendants bustling about the room, and ruthlessly laying into the young seamstress polishing off the ornate silver embroidery on the gown's white satin trim. "There! Would you be so good as to take a look, Madame?" The Castithan seamstress asked Mrs. Tarr, who knelt down and examined the handiwork with intense scrutiny, finally nodding in approval. "Yes, quite fine. Thank you, Elia." She simpered. She extended a soft white hand to Christe and helped her down from the stool, flanking her over to a tall mirror. A smile curled over the young girl's face almost effortlessly as she caught full sight of herself in the glimmering gown. "Thank you." She breathed, adjusting the long, floor-sweeping sleeves. tears threatening.

Stama gently moothed Christie's thick dark hair, the parts of it that weren't already adorned with beads and silk flowers. "Mrs. Tarr, I..." Stama shook her head, placing her hands on Christie's shoulders. "I am not Mrs. Tarr anymore, my dear. It is appropriate to call me familiarly, now. You may call me Stahma, or...mother." She offered sweetly, Christie's smile faultered. "Thank you, Stahma." She chose feverishly. From behind the distracted bride, Stahma tried to mask her burgeoning frustration. She brushed it off quickly, painting another fake smile. "Well then, there is someone who wishes to see you!" She leered, gesturing at her two attendants to open the doors. Christie lifted her skirts and walked to the door, only able to make out a distorted shadow from beyond the white barriers. As both doors slid open in unison, she couldn't help but gasp at the sight of Rafe McCawley, her father, standing stoically at the threshhold of the room.

On the opposite side of the Tarr's lavish home, Alak had long since been dressed and ready for the ceremony. To juxtapose his bride's decidedly Castithan gown, he took to a fancy silk tuxedo; white, of course. The nervous young man fought off his own attendants as he fussed with his silvery blue locks in the mirror, for once, unable to settle on a style. His father sat on the bed, shaking his head. "In all my years on this planet, I've never seen such a mess. I mean who rents clothing? Honestly!" He puzzled about his son's tuxedo. "And yet it's unseamly for a lady to do the same? Ten thousand Script, your wife's dress cost me! And that we can't return!" He seethed, cross-armed where he sat. "Mom pushed her to get that one!" Alak joked. "It's a tradition here with brides, to wear their mothers' old dresses, but...you know." He shrugged, emerging from his crouched position in front of the mirror. Datak huffed. "The woman's dead, they didn't bury the dress with her!" Alak rolled his eyes and smirked. Not even his father's cruel skepticism could dampen his spirits today. "Well, at least it looks good on her, right?" Datak shrugged, his son replied with the same motion. "And just what's that mean?" He asked, Alak chuckled. "Don't tell me, another human tradition?" Datak snarled. "Yeah, well, sort of. They say it's bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding, so, I hope it looks good! Well anything'll look good on her." Alak blushed. Datak nodded and glanced away. He was an accomplice of his wife's devious plot to seize the McCawley Mines, but there was a lingering twinge of guilt in him. Yes, guilt in the heart of THE Datak Tarr. When he had first discovered his son's affinity for Rafe's daughter, he dismissed it as a passing bout of teenage puppy love, but now, the things he was hearing one-on-one with Alak were genuine. Regardless, family honor and the quest for status must prevail at all costs, and that was something which both he and Stahma vehemently agreed.

At last, Alak settled on a look, not much different from what he normally sported, though more tamed and pristine. Arms outstretched he tossed the comb aside for a nearby attendant to scoop up and turned to his father. "Well?" He simpered. Datak nodded, a narrow smirk slowly unfurling into a smile, or at least into something as close as they'd get to a smile from him. "Seshaizh'ne." Handsome, he prided, slowly pushing himself up from the bed. He approached Alak and pulled him into a brief embrace. "I have reservations, about this wedding." He started, Alak rolled his eyes and backed away. "Dad, why do you..." Datak rasied a hand and silenced him, gesturing for him to have a seat next to him. "I know, it's too late for all this. I approve of this wedding, it's your youth and inexperience that worries me, my dear. You and Christie, you are both so young. Regardless of what your mother might say, I want you to embrace this responsibility. You are first and foremost, a Castithan, Alak. Christie must be made aware of her place here, and that your duty is to continue the family line." Alak inhaled and scooted away. "Christie may be a human, but you are her husband, it's your job to guide her and keep her on the right path...what I have been doing for you behind the scenes all this time, you must now do for her." Alak nodded, while his time among the humans had led him to personally believe the Castithan patriarchy was utter shtako, he still had a duty to respect the traditions of his people, and the wishes of his parents.

"Alak, today you start a new life, become the head of your own household, become a fair and guiding husband, and affectionate father to my grandchildren. The Tarr legacy pushes forward today." Datak forced a smile and patted Alak's shoulders, seeing in his eyes that he had indeed placed yet another burden on his shoulders.

Back in Stahma's dressing quarters, Rafe McCawley stood at the threshhold of the double doors, an elegant bouquet clasped tightly in one hand, and an old wooden box in the other. The gruff man stepped inside the pure pearl-white room, failing to fight off the urge to make faces at the respendent atmosphere. "Humph, a lot more grandeur in a hai...house like this." Rafe muttered. "Dad?" Christie breathed, looking on at her father for some sign of his intentions. "Will you be..." "Yeah, of course I'm coming. You think I'd really miss my only little girl's wedding day?" Rafe smiled, softening his gruff features. Stahma rubbed Christie's bare shoulders. "I'll just give the too of you some privacy, you can let Elia or Nohne know if you would like anything." She whispered before gliding from the room in a wave of white satin and opalescent beads. Of course, she'd still be listening on the opposite side of the closed doors.

"Dad, I thought for sure you wouldn't come. I mean, from what Quentin said..." Christie paused, Rafe proffered a bright bouquet of flowers wrapped neatly in a white velvet ribbon. He smiled kindly and sat the worn little box on a nearby night table. "Thank you! They're beautiful, daddy." Christine beamed, burying her face in the plumes, taking in their mixture of scents. Momentarily distracted by the gift, she failed to notice the box on the table until her father gently lifted the lid and withdrew a flowing white veil of beaded tulle. "Dad..." Christie's voice broke as she felt the burning sensation of tears overcome her. "She would be proud of you today, my girl." Rafe said cooly, pinning the veil to his daughter's ornate updo. "As am I." He finished with a smile, burly hands weighing down heavily on her slender shoulders. "Quentin is waiting with the rest of the family, and Luke..." Christie exhaled deeply, trying not to think of what her eldest brother would actually think, had he been here to witness her marriage to a Castithan. "...He was a good brother. He'd of wanted you to be happy, no matter what." Rafe bit his lip, the tears falling now an indistinguishable mixture of joy and sadness. Christie turned wrapped her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest. He cleaned up nicely, but the lingering scent of industrial smog and damp earth hung heavy in his aura, familiar scents in which she took gteat comfort. "That's what we all want, for you to be happy." He whispered, gently lifting Christie from his embrace. "And, if that means wedding the likes of Alak Tarr, then, we'll just have to learn to like it!" Rafe chuckled, bringing a smile to his daughter's face. "Come on now! Let's get this show on the road!" Rafe smiled, holding out an arm for Christie, who linked herself to it tightly. Abruptly, the doors opened again, Stahma in tow. "Come, come! The guests are waiting, and Madame Mayor has just arrived!" The jovial woman flanked the two down the stairs and out to the courtyard gardens. "I love you, dad." Christie mustered, briefly resting her head on his arm as they paused at the fluttering white curtain. Just beyond that nearly transparent bolt of cloth, lay her new life, and her new family. Just beyond the rift, was her tangible future.

In a muffled but stately tone, she heard Mayor Amanda announce her. The scooting in of chairs and the ethereal, haunting chants of Castithan guests and overseers undulated through the Spring air. The curtain lifted in a fade of bright light, and Rafe propelled them forward. Eyes half open, Christie floated on waves of silk and embroidered crinoline towards Alak, who was grinning from ear to ear, looking just as smitten as the day they'd first met. Rafe bobbed his head slightly and whispered to his daughter, "One day, you will both look back on this as the day your lives began." And with that he released her, as Christie loosened her grip on her father's arm and took Stahma's hand in her left, and Datak's in her right, she didn't look back as they flanked her to her husband. Christie McCawley emerged Christie Tarr, and faced the dream of the future with an open mind, and a newfound confidence in her father's love.

(✿ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ First chapter down! Sorry if it was a little short, but I have quite a few ideas going for this story! On Tumblr, I saw some spoiler screenshots of Chrisite and Alak's wedding! So I drew a lot of inspiration from what little I was able to find, I REALLY hope the episode comes soon! 3

Will update again soon, feedback is much appreciated!

NEXT TIME

Christie gets some reluctant one-on-one time with her new mother inlaw, and a crash course on life as a proper Castithan lady.