Title: The Music Began to Play
Fandom: 'A Series of Unfortunate Events'
Characters: Violet Baudelaire
Prompt: 001. 'Beginnings'
Word Count: 876
Rating: G
Summary: 'Violet didn't want the moment to end; alas,'
Author's Notes: I know, I know, if I'm going to be writing FanFiction at all, I should be updating a certain story, rather than writing silly oneshots. But I was bored, so I started an (unclaimed) FanFic 100 challenge. I just want to learn how to write with a little bit more discipline than my own ramblings, because they don't seem to want to teach us that in school (grumbles).

Anyway, don't expect me to update with more 'challenges' any time soon, it's my last year of school, and I don't need another reason to procrastinate. Even though I reeeeally want one. Hopefully I'll update sometimes though. Enough of this chit chat, on with the show!

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Violet's hands were cold. She walked towards the door, scouring one last look in the mirror before she reached out for the handle; her fingers were so cold that the handle felt comfortably warm. She crossed the threshold and walked down the hallway, lifting up her dress a little so as not to trip over.
Sunny and Isadora were waiting for her outside the tall, double oak doors, smiling. Violet couldn't help smiling herself as she walked towards them, her insides tingling and turning with what felt like a pleasant sort of nausea.
None of the three females uttered a word; nothing needed to be said. Instead they beamed around at each other, around this small gathering, waiting for the music to play.

The music began, and two ushers on either side of the doors swung them open, revealing a small room filled with eager and curious people, a pathway through the middle.
Sunny gave Violet and Isadora a small, confident smile as she walked slowly into the room, walking in a straight line down the small nave, just as they had practised.
Isadora was next. She gave Violet's hand a small squeeze before she too walked into the room in that slow, purposeful fashion.

It was nearly Violet's turn; she was the only one left. Her stomach gave a violent jolt that was both exhilarating and slightly painful. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment to regain her composure.

This was it. This was the moment. She turned into the doorway, and started down the small clearing that lead to the other side of the room. She heard some quiet gasps and sighs as she walked through the crowd, smiling, seeking out the faces that she knew.
She turned her eyes towards the other end of the room. The noon sun was shining in through the many stained glass windows that lined the far wall, the colourful light resting on a small raised platform, on which now stood five of the most important people in Violet's life.
Violet felt all eyes on her as she lowered her head, lifting her dress and stepping up onto the slightly raised platform where her body, all but her hands, was instantly warmed by the hot sun streaming through the coloured windows. She looked up into the dark eyes of the man opposite her; he, like she, was smiling uncontrollably.

The music began to fade.
The crowd began to sit.
Violet's heart began to beat faster.
The reverend began to speak.

Began. Beginning. Beginnings.
This was something new.

She and the man opposite grasped hands; his were warm, and Violet saw, and loved, a small reaction in his face when he felt how extremely cold hers were.

Violet's hands began to warm up.
It had been so long, too long, since Violet had begun something. This was a new beginning, and after so many years of things ending and dying and disappearing, She had almost forgotten that fresh, clean feeling of starting something new.
She looked over the man's shoulder at her brother Klaus, whose exterior, hardened over the years, was still holding up. To most he showed no strong emotion. But Violet knew the expression on his face all too well; she knew he would never cry, not over something like this, but that look on Klaus' face was his equivalent of producing tears. He gave Violet a smile that conveyed everything ever needing to be said between the two.
Violet let her eyes linger a little longer on her brother's face before she slipped them sideways to look at Duncan; a man very soon to become her brother, who simply beamed at her, and she back at him.
The reverend was still talking, and Violet just barely heard her cue through the distraction of her brother and her soon-to-be brother.
She promised, in two words, everything the reverend had just asked her, as did the man whose hands she was holding.

The air was beautifully tense as the reverend neared a crucial point in the ceremony. Violet could feel her heart beating as is it were going to break out from her chest; the kind of pain that she never wanted to end, and made her breathe all the more deeply just to feel it.
The reverend stopped speaking.

The man opposite Violet began to lean in towards her; she could feel his heat on her cheeks.

They began to kiss.
The crowd began to cheer.

Violet didn't want the moment to end; alas, they pulled apart after a few short seconds, still grasping each other's hands tightly.
The crowd chattered excitedly as Bride and Groom walked back down towards the end of the room, to the double oak doors, stopped constantly to be congratulated and hugged and kissed.
The two could not stop smiling, and Violet was thinking, as she was kissed on both cheeks by an older woman with whom she was not familiar, that she did not want to reach those oak doors; she did not want it to end.

Her thoughts fell to the hand wrapped around hers, the hand of the man she loved.
'No,' she thought, 'this isn't the end. This? This is the beginning.'

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