Disclaimer: Don't own; don't sue. Title comes from the He Is We song "All About Us". Photo credit stealingmachines at tumblr.
Summary: Character study of Caroline Forbes on her wedding day. Second in the "ever after" series.
Spoilers: Single mention of Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus, so know who they are, I guess?
Author's Notes: This was actually the very first fanfiction I wrote. It was done as a character study of Caroline, to attempt to get in her head. Not very exciting, I'm afraid. Eternal thanks to ala-away, who beta'd for me without ever having seen TVD. :)
Although this is second in the "ever after" series, you do not need to have read for you, i will to understand this one. Reviews will be held close to my bosom and cuddled. :)
Thank you S. E. Carrigan for noticing a continuity error! I've tweaked a few lines here to fix it. :)
every heart in the room will melt
Her hand smoothes down yet another non-existent wrinkle in her skirt, just above her knee. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, but it is as if she cannot truly see herself. She does not see bright, sky blue eyes, made brighter by a thin sheen of tears. She doesn't see the flawless skin and beautifully blended makeup that costs way more than she can afford. Even her dress goes unnoticed, the layers of lace, tulle, and silk, all a pristine white, which drape her body perfectly. Stop admiring yourself, she can hear in her head. You're blocking the mirror. His voice, although imagined, brings her back down to earth.
Even insecure, neurotic, control freak vampires on crack can be calm with the right incentive, she thinks wryly. For a second she wonders how he's doing, if he's nervous or bothered in any way. If Stefan has to pull the bourbon away from his grasp, or if he's bemoaning the fact that they're in a church and will probably spontaneously combust at any moment. She shakes her head (gently, though, as to not unsettle any of the pins and curls that were so carefully placed upon her head) and tries to abandon that line of thought. She's ready, he will be too. All that's left is –
"Caroline? Sweetheart? You ready? It's almost time." Her mother's voice cuts through her thoughts.
It takes all of her willpower to walk at a human speed to the side door and allow her mother entrance. For half a second, she thinks about faking a smile to put her mom at ease. But when her mother's eyes land on her, the joy, pure and overwhelming, exuding from Liz's normally stern face is all the motivation Caroline needs for a genuine grin to appear. Of all the people supporting this relationship, this wedding, no one could have predicted the unwavering dedication Liz has shown; her past disgust and hate at the very species of the bride and groom a distant memory.
It feels like they stand staring at each other for an eternity before both simultaneously step forward to embrace. This is exactly what they have both always wanted: peace and understanding between two very opinionated women whose strength of will is only matched by their love and loyalty to each other.
Too soon the soft strains of the piano ("Organs are for funerals, Damon. I am not walking down the aisle to a dirge!" "Would you like a harp then, my angel?") drift into the dressing room. Caroline winds her arm around her mother's, and they begin the slow walk into the church's sanctuary.
("I'm so sorry your father isn't here to walk you down, sweetie. I know that he, he would have been so proud. Despite how he felt before, he would have liked Damon. Or... Well, he wouldn't have killed him," her mother had whispered one evening. Caroline had bit down a sigh but couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Mom. It's always been you. I miss him, but this, walking me down the aisle, would have always been you.")
All the thoughts that have overwhelmed her mind for weeks fade into nothing. The church is gorgeous, exactly as she pictured and planned, but she doesn't really see it. Right now, she's running on pure feeling. Her heartbeat is quick and her breaths are short, despite requiring neither. She is aware of the warmth of her mother's arm around hers, the stares and smiles of those seated around her, but most of all she is overcome with love and hope and joy and wonder and happiness like she's never been before. This is better than the first time Elena and Bonnie grabbed her hands and chose her as their new best friend. It's better than all of Matt's and Tyler's and even Klaus's claims of love and affection (she knows they will always have a place in her heart, but it's a fraction of what Damon holds). It is better than sitting down with her parents for a Disney movie marathon long before divorce was ever a thought. This is what she expects being picked first feels like. And she cannot believe that she gets to feel this way for the rest of her life.
There, at the end of the aisle is Damon. For once, his face lacks the signature smirk. His lips are pulled up just slightly, the faintest possible smile. She revels in that, and a small part of her hopes that their two professional photographers are doing their jobs and getting as many pictures of that smile as possible. His eyes (she'll swear to anyone who will listen for the next decade) twinkle. ("I'm not Dumbledore, princess. My eyes smolder, none of this "twinkling" business.") Then her mother is pressing a light kiss to her cheek, her bouquet is in Bonnie's hands, her fingers are reaching for Damon's, and her eyes are rising to meet his. The priest is speaking, and she thinks that without Damon's hands holding her she would just float up and away.
The vows pass in a blur. It had been yet another fight between the two of them; she was desperate to have personalized, written from the heart, romantic vows. He hadn't seen the need. ("You know what I'd say. No one else needs to hear it.") Their compromise mirrors nearly every other aspect of their relationship: Damon will write his vows from the heart, but he'll only share them with her. It is to be her first (of many, he's promised) honeymoon present. At the actual ceremony, they declare the traditional ones, with a single change. ("Death could never do us part, Blondie. Trust me on that.")
Finally, the Kiss. Everyone there knows how Damon is, but still, she frets that he is going to over exaggerate it and make it more about the audience than themselves. She grips his hands a little tighter, not enough to break bones but hard enough, and narrows her eyes at him just a bit in warning. He smirks in response. She's about to snap his pinky (it won't be too noticeable in the photographs), but before she can quite decide how to go about it he's leaning forward and pressing a deceivingly chaste kiss to her mouth. Her eyes slide closed and her hands loosen without her permission, finally slipping out of Damon's grasp so that they can wind around his neck.
Then there's clapping and cheering, and she's practically skipping back down the aisle while Damon attempts to saunter. All the occupants of the church are standing and herding them out, despite the fact that they're all going to meet at the boarding house for the reception in about twenty minutes any way. Now, it's as if her eyes cannot take in enough information. She sees Elena wiping tears away with a tissue while Stefan rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. Jeremy and Bonnie are clearly competing as to who can be more exuberant; Bonnie's little girl is collecting the rose petals on the ground and tossing them about as her father attempts to corral her. Even Elijah and Rebecca, two beings she never expected to meet, let alone become friends with, are standing with the most regal smiles she's ever seen, as if Caroline and Damon are troublesome children who finally did something right. The thought isn't as fanciful as it may seem, she thinks ruefully.
Then, it's into Damon's convertible ("My hair, Damon!" "There's enough pins and hairspray there to survive a hurricane. Chill, Blondie.") and they're on their way and ohmygod, they're married. They're really married. They've got the rings, the witnesses, the certificate and everything. They are legally bound to each other for eternity. She's already so breathless from the ceremony that hyperventilation may not be far behind. But Damon's hand is clasped in hers, that same small smile she loves so much on his lips, his eyes on the road, looking toward their future. And to be honest, she's never seen something quite so bright.