Title: The Magnificent Marriage

Warnings: Angst, Near-Death Experiences, Innuendos, Eventual Smut.

The lights were blinding Violet Baudelaire as her hand shook. She could barely read her own name on the parchment as the quill slid with the ink, but it was her name. And she felt a feeling of triumph build in her. A feeling of satisfaction. There was no way this could be a legally binding marriage. Perhaps Klaus had chosen wrong in confronting Olaf, but this was a solution that was hidden in Klaus's own words.

The bride's own hand.

Her left was not her own. It was an imitation, at the very most. But not her legal signature that she had used at Mr. Poe's office, to sign that she consented to the circumstances of her parent's wishes for the Baudelaire fortune. They would not match, Violet at least knew that. If there was a need for a comparison. To check. That document filed away at the bank was Violet's only physical signature in existence. The countless invention blueprints that she had made and signed at her previous home had burned in the fire.

Violet trembled as she set the quill down, her joy barely able to contain itself. If she could just keep it together, if she could trick him for a little while longer, until the end of the play, then she could get to Justice Strauss, tell her everything.

Mr. Poe's coughing broke her thoughts, making her jump slightly and the pen fell from the stand and onto the stage floor.

Olaf had other plans. It seemed that he was not sticking to the script, and suddenly the parchment that Justice Strauss had provided was hoisted into the air and he stepped around the podium to show the audience the paper. "Ah-hah!" The audience was quiet, thinking this was apart of the play. But Violet's mind raced. If he exposed the plot now, how could she speak out without him dropping Sunny? But her eyes darted to Mr. Poe in the front row, coughing into his kerchief. Maybe that man would have some ability to provide protection for the infant.

Olaf's arm dropped and he groaned with the audience's lack of reaction. "I said, ah-hah! The play is over. I now have control of the Baudelaire fortune, and all of its properties-"

"That is-" Mr. Poe began to exclaim, but a sudden coughing fit caused him to pause in his statement. When he resumed, Olaf was already grinning wickedly. "That is absolutely absurd! To have control of the Baudelaire fortune. Violet is not eighteen."

"But she is my wife now, and by law, the fortune is mine."

Would he drop the cage with so many people watching? Violet didn't know the man well enough to speculate for sure. But she had to take the risk.

"That document is not valid," Violet spoke above the murmurs of the crowd. Olaf whirled on her, warning her to shut up. But Violet squared her shoulders, and stared back, daring him to drop Sunny with all these witnesses.

"She's right, it's not. It's just a prop. This wedding wasn't real! It's just a play!" Justice Strauss spoke up.

"This is a document from the High Court of the City," Olaf snapped to the Justice and to the crowd. "The ceremony was official, presided over by an ordained justice, and the words were spoken. The document was signed in the bride's own hand. The wedding was real, Justice Strauss, and I have the fortune-"

"Oh dear, he's right," Justice Strauss said almost to herself. Justice Strauss shuffled forward, and her face had a desperate look of shock. As if she had just learned that she was going to get a ticket at the meter for parking for a minute longer than the time she paid for, and was pleading with the officer to let it slide. But by experience, Justice Strauss would know that the officer was more likely than not to keep writing the ticket. "I… I had no idea. No one said this was a real wedding. But Violet's only fourteen."

"In loco parentis," Olaf sneered, repeating the very words that Klaus had spoken to him just hours before. "It means that as Violet's acting guardian, I can give permission for her to marry under the age of majority. And I think it is quite obvious that I do-"

"Oh dear…"

"It's not valid," Violet spoke up. "The document has to be in my own hand. But it's not."

"Oh, don't be silly, Violet. I watched you sign it-" Justice Strauss began, mournfully.

"It's not," Violet counted.

"It's not?" Olaf growled towards her, and the warning was back.

"I'm right handed. I signed that document with my left." Olaf's eyebrow shot to his hairline, and then almost immediately it furrowed down into a menacing glare. "The document isn't valid because I didn't use my legal signature-"

"It doesn't matter what hand, as long as it was one of your hands, orphan!" Olaf growled, turning to Justice Strauss. "Right?" And for a second, he didn't sound quite too sure.

"I…" Justice Strauss seemed to think it over. "I'm afraid... that this is a matter that must be dealt with carefully. There is a matter of precedent, you see. We must make sure there are no other circumstances such as this," Justice Strauss said with a tone of sorrow. A tone of sorrow because she was delaying the inevitable. Something Violet could sense like a second nature now. Mr. Poe's face had been easy to read all those weeks ago on Briny Beach. Justice Strauss's looked no different. She was giving the children a false hope. "And if there are no other circumstances, I'm afraid this is a matter the court must look over and decide on-"

Violet's straight shoulders dropped slightly. Her last ditch effort to thwart Count Olaf's attempt was ruined. She hadn't been clever enough.

"But that's preposterous!" a voice cried. "She's only a child!"

"According to the law, as of this moment, Violet is a legal adult. And as such, is no longer seen as a child in the law." The Justice sighed. "I'm sorry, my dear. But we will get this straightened out-"

"Until then, Violet and the children will be staying with me-" Mr. Poe coughed out nearly immediately from the edge of the stage.

"I think, Mr... what was your name again?" Count Olaf spoke sharply, towards the coughing man.

"Poe, as in the first syllable of potential or possession."

Olaf smiled a very sinister smile. "Mr. Pot. I think you'll find that Violet Baudelaire, or rather the Countess, is now my wife. And as such, she and her disgusting little brats she calls siblings will be staying with me until this matter is settled." In my favor, did not need to be said. It seemed he, too, had picked up on the justice's melancholy resolution.

"I'm afraid Count Olaf is correct, Mr. Poe," Justice Strauss sighed. "There is ... no power over the children legally except for Count Olaf." Violet did her best not to shudder. What would he do to Sunny now? What would he do with the three of them now, that he had the fortune?

"Excellent," Olaf preened. "Then allow me to take my bride for some much needed celebration. All of this arguing and fighting is ruining our lovely wedding day." There was no need for Violet to tell him that the wedding day wasn't lovely, nor was it at all a celebration. She was too busy trying to keep a brave face.

The house. Where… where they slept. She pressed a hand to her side, feeling her pulse jump against the gown. Even though it was itchy and scratchy, she didn't feel much of the dress anymore. She tried to focus on it instead of the sneering face of Olaf and the astonished faces of Justice Strauss and Mr. Poe.

A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her forward. She nearly stumbled across the stage as Olaf began to move. His henchmen seemed to form a protective barrier behind as they left the theatre. "Now, now, orphans, keep quiet and I might just let you all live long enough to say goodbye to one another." Violet was thrust into the backseat of the car. And Klaus was thrown in soon after. His hand found hers, holding it tightly, but Violet said nothing. Instead she watched. She watched as Olaf said something to the theatre troupe, as the white faced women got into another car and sped away with the unidentifiable man or woman. She watched as a number of people went to other cars. She watched as someone slid into the front passenger seat, and then Olaf took the driver's side.

And then the car was off.

"We can run," Klaus said under his breath. "We just need to break out of the car-"

"Quiet, orphan!" Olaf snarled from the front. Violet jumped in fright, her heart hammering, but she tried to keep her face straight. She tried to stop her fear from showing. Her gaze went out of the front window, and her grip on Klaus's hand tightened. A warning. Telling him to say nothing, or Olaf would only get angrier.

Violet tried to think of her options. But there were none. Not at the moment, at least. To jump out of the car could get them seriously injured. Running at the house would only get them lost – there were no neighbors that Violet knew of. Justice Strauss was still in the City. As farmland passed by, she thought of if she could wait until they all passed out drunk.

But even then, there was always at least one that did not drink, that would keep watch at the door. Like they were afraid of something.

Like they were being followed.

She felt Klaus try to nudge her, to look at him. But her gaze stayed out the front window, all the way to their newest home.

Parking in the front, where weeds tumbled through the stones and ivy made the house almost blend in with the forest behind, the door Violet was leaning into opened suddenly and she was grabbed once more, pulled out into the night. The white faced women, and the hook handed man was walking down the stairs as another henchmen pulled Klaus from the car. Olaf took the boy first, moving him up the stairs of the house.

Violet was forced just feet behind.

Olaf's grip on Klaus's shoulder loosed as he shoved the boy into the house, sending him sprawling onto the floor, and his glasses to fall. "Klaus!" Violet cried, going to take a step, but the two white faced women stopped her from going any farther than the front door.

"Things are going to be a little different around here, orphans," Olaf smirked, watching as Klaus picked himself off the ground. He managed to find his glasses and slide them into place. "For one, your bed will be a little less cramped." Violet's gut clenched with fear. The women holding her teetered with laughter. "Run on up to bed, orphan. My bride and I are going to celebrate with a little wine and cake. I'll forgive you for your lack of congratulations on this happy day, in hopes tomorrow you'll be more sensible and respectful to your sister. It is her wedding day, after all."

"You're a monster," Klaus cried.

Olaf smirked at the boy. "You don't even know the beginning of what I am." Klaus went to say more, but Olaf interrupted him. "Another thing that is changing, orphan, is that you and your little potato of a sister are going to be doing all the work around here. A Countess doesn't lift a finger of household labor unless it's to entertain her guests." The Troupe were not, nor would ever be, her guests, Violet knew. "I am a kind and benevolent Count, after all. And you did just give me your enormous fortune. It's the least I could do for my blushing bride."

Violet narrowed her eyes. "Where's Sunny?" If the hook-handed man was here, maybe Sunny was alone. Klaus pulled himself off the floor, finding his glasses, and as he straightened them, met Violet's eyes. A moment of conversation passed between them in a second. Klaus needed to find Sunny.

Olaf's mocking smile dropped to a glare. "In that little bed of rocks in the attic. Safe and sound, as promised. I do follow through with my promises, don't I?"

"They'll never rule in your favor," Klaus insisted. "The courts are going to rule that the marriage wasn't legitimate-"

"And if that's the case, I'll kill you all," Olaf said jolly, like he was discussing that the weather was projected to be stormy tomorrow. This, to Olaf, would seem like wonderful news, because stormy weather was often considered gloomy. And Count Olaf, by all accounts, could make anyone around him feel rather gloomy themselves. "Now, in the morning we'll discuss all the other changes, but for right now… go off to bed, orphan. I'm bored of your presence. Your dull and puny brain is making me sad on my most favorite day."

"Violet-"

"Just do what he says, Klaus," Violet interrupted, quickly.

"Yes, listen to your sister. She happens to be much smarter than you when it comes to situations of the most… tedious." Olaf sneered at the boy. "Run along."

The Troupe laughed as Klaus was shoved towards the stairs, stumbling into them. His gaze kept glancing back to Violet as he mounted them, but Violet said nothing. She made no indication at all of Klaus trying to convince her to run. She made no indication of plotting any escape, because as soon as Klaus was upstairs, escape was that much harder.

She had to think this through properly.

So she did. She was given a glass of wine, she was forced to drink with a deadly glare, and then a piece of cake, which Olaf did not try to share the first bite as her parent's had done on their own wedding day, but instead ate the entire plate himself.

She picked at it. Violet calculated the height of the tower to the ground, the height of the attic to the ground, and then planned out how much force it would take to break a window – and if the troupe would run up the stairs to see what it was, or outside. She figured most would run up, rather than out. And that meant that escaping through a window was a better option than the attic.

There was still the matter of those that patrolled.

Sure enough, her eyes found the designated watchdog. He was sitting against the wall, arms crossed, and seemed to be ignoring the laughter and the alcohol and the party just as much as she. And even though her stomach ached from the wine, and the anxiety clawed at her throat, she watched the guard. He would be the one she'd have to get past with her siblings.

He would be the one that she'd have to evade.

He was large, which usually meant he wasn't very fast. Klaus was a good runner, but she was not. Klaus carrying Sunny would slow him down.

The guard could catch them easily.

She considered the forest behind the house. If she could take the back staircase… slip through the kitchen-

No, Violet would have to scale the fence, and the dead leaves in the garden would give them away. She could hear the rats in the leaves of the yard from the attic.

Suddenly, Olaf stood, pulling her from her head. And he clicked his wine glass, causing the outrageous laughter to cease. "Thank you, all of you, for coming! My blushing bride and I-" Olaf paused, glancing to Violet, seated beside him with a neutral expression on her face. No blush in sight. "Stand up, orphan." She did nothing, wondering what he'd do. Wondering, so she could calculate possibly outcomes in the future of actions she could take. Olaf snarled at nothing, but also at her, and reached over, grabbing her under the arm and hoisting her to her feet.

It answered her curiosity. "As I was saying!" Olaf said loudly. "My blushing bride and I are most grateful for all of you attending. We've done it, we've finally secured the most coveted and largest yet – the Baudelaire fortune. One the matter of the bank and the court is settled, we'll all be able to happily retire in Majorca and drink until our livers fail." Laughter echoed in the room, giving Violet a headache. "Thank you, all of you. Now, I'm going to be enjoying my prize." Olaf grinned to the room, and Violet's hands clenched at her sides, buried in the ridiculous gown so none could see the twinge of fear. She fought to keep her face straight.

There was more laughter. Everyone drank from their glasses as it seemed the toast was over. And Olaf threw the glass away, causing it to shatter in the floor in the far corner. She nearly jumped at the sound. "Leave!" Olaf barked. The drunk party-goers suddenly scrambled out of their seats, tripping over each other as they did their best to obey quickly. When the house was still, and the cars had all sped off, Olaf's grip on her arm tightened, pulling her out of the dining room, and towards the staircase.

Violet wasn't an ignorant fourteen-year-old. Her parents had spoken to her when she had first bled about what went on between a husband and a wife. They had spoken about the lawful stipulations of marriage - of the implications of laying together. What it would mean. And Violet Baudelaire knew that Count Olaf was not a man to give the fortune any chance of not being his. He knew just as well as her that the court would rule in his favor - that the document was in her hand, be it her left or right. And the only way to ensure that a marriage could not be stepped out of by either party was to consummate the marriage.

A child was even more preferred. And likely how Count Olaf's mind was drawing circles to.

She didn't know if, at the age of fourteen, she was ready to be a mother. In fact, she knew that she was not ready. And so following him up the stairs to the master bedroom with dread - with a calculating mind on how quickly it would take her to grab the splintered wood and use it as a weapon to fend Count Olaf off as she either jumped from the window, taking her chances with a broken leg, or managed to go down all fifty-seven stairs and take her chances in the cold winter night with no shelter. But that still left the matter of Klaus and Sunny. They were locked in the bedroom at the middle of the tower.

"If you obey my orders, sweet Violet, no harm will come to your siblings," Olaf said suddenly as the stairs tapered off into a grand hall. Ratty portraits hung from the walls, with wallpaper curling around them like cobwebs, caressing the edges. But Violet's thoughts of how to rescue her siblings, perhaps with a few broken pieces of picture frames in the front hall, flew out the window at Olaf's words. He paused at a door, to a room Violet could only guess was the final destination. He turned back with a smirk. "As soon as the fortune's officially mine, it wouldn't be any use to have you three suddenly die on me, would it? Imagine the investigations into potential murder." Violet didn't dare say that it would have been sure murder. "It was a valiant attempt, tonight, to withhold it from me. I would punish you, but it was so clever, that it wasn't a possibility even I thought of."

She didn't know what to say. But she stared at Count Olaf, masking the fear and the apprehension. If what lay beyond this door was what she thought... she couldn't show him just how terrified he made her. He couldn't get that power over her.

The door opened with a horrifying jingle of the metal handle. And he swept his arm towards the room. "After you, my sweet bride." Violet suppressed a whimper of fear, and clutched the skirts tightly as she relayed his words in her head. If she obeyed... if she did as he asked, Klaus and Sunny were safe. If she disobeyed - she didn't put it past the vile man to put Sunny back in that cage for an unknown length of time. Possibly forever. If it meant their safety - if it meant that they wouldn't be hurt - she'd do whatever he said. She would hate herself for it, but she would do it. Klaus and Sunny were all she had left.

Violet stepped inside the room, noting how utterly black and dismal it was. It did not look at all how Violet expected. She figured that while expense was spared for the rest of the house, that his private quarters would be opulent. Or at least... not shabby by any means. From what Violet could see from the moonlight in the windows, that was not the case. The curtains were just as dust-mite bitten as the rest of the house, and the rug was faded from decades of dust trodden into the yarn. The bed was the only thing that looked relatively well cared for. And even that was a stretch.

Black silken pillows, and a comforter. And frayed drapery hanging from the frame. It looked like the rest of the house, only darker and... more terrifying. Her wide eyes didn't leave the bed.

"We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow," Count Olaf spoke from the door. Violet turned sharply, her heart jumping in her throat. "A meeting at the bank and a meeting with the High Court. I expect you up by dawn. Now is when the real work begins." Her fear turned to confusion. Olaf sneered at her. "You'll need all the sleep you can get..." The door slammed shut, making her jump nearly six inches in the air.

As there was silence in the room, the breath that had frozen in her lungs came out in short gasps. He was not going to hurt her - at least not tonight. Her feet found their way to the bed, and she sank down onto it, her shoulders collapsing in relief.

The door jerked open suddenly, causing her to jump to attention and reach for the clock on the bedside table.

"Oh, and one more thing," Count Olaf spoke, as if he hadn't noticed her terror. "If I find out that you so much as plotted the escape of you and your miserable siblings, the little worm in the cage will be the least of your worries." His shiny dark eyes met her own. "Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes." She swallowed, trying to hide her fear. To do as her mother had always said, and do the terrifying thing before she could let herself be afraid. But it was much easier in words than in practice. To put on a brave face, and act as though there were worst things to happen. But even that was impossible. She was not as brave as her parents.

"Good. Tomorrow, you're going to let them do whatever they need to without interfering or making a fuss. And you're going to let me do whatever I need to to secure that fortune." Violet bobbed her head in a nod quickly. "If you so much as ask for a loophole to be found, Klaus will suddenly have one less eye for his glasses to help see. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Violet's voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough for him, it seemed. The door locked as he slammed it shut again, and the sound of keys could be heard, locking her inside. Violet tried to quell her beating heart, but couldn't manage it until a door a few feet down the hall opened and shut, and there was silence in the small manor house. And then Violet allowed herself to relax. To thank her guardian angel that at least tonight, she'd be sleeping alone.