These Broken Wings

dresses and messes

Against her better judgment, RIckyJo followed Carissa into the bowels of the packhouse. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find when they arrived in the area where the Luna dresses were kept. Maybe rows and stacks of giant tupperware bins in a storage locker. Her gran kept that kind of stuff in storage in the attic of the packhouse. You needed a pull down ladder to get up there. RickyJo was shocked when she walked into a full on giant dressing room, complete with a small stage and a huge three way mirror. The walls were lined with what looked like hundreds of garment bags on hangers.

While she was sure that many women would consider this room the pinnacle of their every princess dream come true, it looked like something out of RIckyJo’s worst nightmare. She reluctantly stepped forward into the room, glancing around with a noticeable scowl on her face. Despite her obvious reluctance, Carissa ushered her into the room and got her settled down in an overstuffed pink plush chair. Lillian rushed in, grabbing and poking at the garment bags until her mother scolded her and made her sit down. Grace and her mother Sarah shuffled in behind the girl, taking the chair opposite them. Whether they had come for moral support, or just to witness the potential disaster, RickyJo wasn’t sure. Other than her half Korean ancestry, Sarah looked like a typical she-wolf. She was petite and dainty and wore a dress to breakfast. Grace was slightly taller and RickyJo was relieved to see that she looked about as impressed with what was about to happen as she was.

A flurry of omegas entered the room and began pulling and airing out dresses for RickyJo’s inspection. She was sure she met most of them when she arrived at the house and was embarrassed that most of their names had slipped her mind. There was one younger girl that had red hair almost as bright as her cousin Jess. RickyJo remembered her and called her over.

“Katie,” she said, waving the girl over and trying not to laugh at how impressed the girl looked with the fact that she was able to do something so simple as to remember the name of someone that literally lived in her house. “Would you mind getting me something to drink?,” she asked. Katie bobbed her head vigorously.

“Of course,” she gushed, “...I can get you anything you want. Coffee. Tea. Soda. Juice. They told us you like orange juice.”

“I’d love a really big glass of bubbly water with lots of ice and lemon,” RickyJo requested. “Do you have that?” Katie bobbed her head up and down some more, then scurried off in a hurry to fetch the requested drink. RickyJo rubbed her hand over her stomach, which was suddenly feeling a little unsettled. She wasn’t sure if it was the two giant plates full of breakfast she scarfed down, the idea of spending the day trying on dresses, or her possible pregnancy that was doing it. But she sort of secretly hoped that she might throw up and get herself out of this fashion show nightmare.

With her large glass of lemon water now in her possession, RickyJo tried her best to look at the dresses that were being brought out for her approval. And while that was happening, Carissa had about another thousand questions for her about the ceremony. What type of flowers and colors and food and desserts and centerpieces did she want? Beige or off white? It all looked the same to her. In her pack, her grandmother always took care of planning things like this. And the last person she would have asked for an opinion was RickyJo. Especially when it came to what color the tablecloths should be or which flower she thought set the mood. RickyJo had what her grandfather lovingly referred to as eclectic taste. She liked bright colors and things that were unique and interesting. Everything that Carissa was showing her looked like beige on beige on beige boring.

“Why don’t you just decide on whatever ya think is best,” RickyJo finally suggested. “I’m sure whatever you pick will be perfect.” She was relieved when Carissa’s face lit up with excitement instead of irritation. Carissa obviously wanted to plan the ceremony and do it her way. And RickyJo had no interest in fighting with her about party decor.

“Now we just have your dress to figure out,” Carissa exclaimed. She gestured for the omegas to start bringing dresses forward as she gave RickyJo her opinion on each dress and its better qualities. This went on for some time before she suggested that RickyJo start trying on the dresses. That’s when the trouble started. For one, the dresses were too small for her. She couldn’t even get them up over her hips. Let alone over her ample chest if she tried pulling them down over her head. She cringed when one of the omegas stepped in and tried to force the material down, resulting in the sound of the vintage silk ripping at the seams. Carissa heard the rip and started screaming at the poor girl. When she advanced on the girl like she might actually slap her, RickyJo decided she had enough. Her eyes started to glow and she backed Carissa away from the frightened young omega.

“That’s enough,” RickyJo ordered. “You can’t yell at people like that. She was only trying to help.”

Carissa sat down hard in the plush pink chair, the shock of being cowed by another woman for the first time showing plainly on her face. Carissa was the daughter of an alpha. Her mother was daughter to an alpha. She never felt an aura that powerful come off another she-wolf before. And RickyJo didn’t even have the power of the Luna position flowing through her yet. Her aura was just the one she was born with.

“You’re excused,” RickyJo told her, pointing Carissa towards the door. She stood up, tugging on her dress to straighten the creases before she grabbed her daughter’s hand and marched from the room. Once the door snapped shut behind her, Sarah rose from her own seat and clapped her hands.

“Well done,” she announced. She was not only older than Carissa, she outranked her. And from her pleased expression, it was clear to RickyJo that she had long since tired of the woman’s self assumed air of authority. Sarah ran her hands down over her glossy black hair, tucking it behind her ears. Then she turned to the omegas. “Alright ladies,” she chirped. “I’m sure we can find something in this mess that will fit our new Luna. So let's chop to it.” The women scattered across the room, enthusiastically yanking open the zippers on the garment bags and peeking inside. Since Sarah and Grace had already joined in, she decided it was fair game for her to help. And now that it felt less like a dress parade and more like a hunt, she was starting to have fun.

About fifteen minutes later, RickyJo was standing up on the little stage, laughing her ass off at her reflection in the mirror. The omegas had been tasked with finding her something that fit. And they delivered. The dress was certainly large enough. In fact, she was pretty sure there was room for a least three more people in the giant poofy skirt of the horrid thing. The bodice part of the dress fit her figure well. It was a halter style and encrusted with gems and crystals. But the skirt had to be at least 4 feet wide. It was made of layers upon layers of tulle. She looked like a deranged cupcake.

Our mate said we’ll look beautiful no matter what we wear. But he might change his mind when he sees this monstrosity.

RickyJo just gripped her stomach and flopped down into a chair, laughing even harder when the mountain of material fluffed up into her face and engulfed her completely. Which was probably an improvement since at least now she couldn't see her reflection. Sarah was doing a fairly good job of keeping herself under control. But Grace had long since descended into a fit of laughter.

We should shift and rip this dress to pieces.

“Jade!,” RickyJo exclaimed, “...I think you just gave me the best idea ever!” After some cursing and swatting, RickyJo managed to haul herself back up onto her feet. Then she gestured for the seamstress to approach. “Can you detach the top of this dress from the bottom without damaging it?,” she asked. The woman waded into the mountain of tulle and poked carefully at the waistline of the dress. Then she nodded. RickyJo shrieked and clapped her hands.

“Well then I think I found what I’m wearing for my ceremony!”