They get married in secret the day after the Princess leaves the Court, with Caroline and Damon as their only witnesses.
Caroline's biggest concern was the proper dress, and since it was too late to have one made, she was able to convince Elena to borrow one of hers. Caroline is a little bit taller than she is so it was hard to find a dress which fits properly. It was especially hard to squeeze into it because of her bump, which is barely visible, but Caroline's dresses are all so tight.
She did it to please Caroline, anyway. She didn't care in which dress she gets married, that was the last thing on her mind, since her thoughts were pretty much an explosion of I can't believe this is finally happening.
The ceremony is in Latin, and she doesn't understand half of the words that come out of the priests mouth. She only knows when to say a bunch of words that mean nothing to her, but they're a part of the procedure.
When the priest finishes, their lips meet for only a second, and not a moment longer.
She concludes that she doesn't feel all that much different, being his wife. Maybe because she was always his and this is just one more unnecessary title in line.
They eat dinner and no one understands Caroline's excitement, and she knows she can't say a word about it, so she says it's just one of those days when she's feeling extra happy. Elena smiles at her excitement.
Stefan and Damon engage in a serious discussion, their voices so silent that the only thing the rest of the table can hear is a murmur of whispers. They're probably discussing their options if King of France doesn't accept their offer, or if Princess disregards it and decides not to even mention it to her father. The offer was for her, after all, not him.
Elena feels lonely without him, but she knows they must act as if nothing happened. As if they didn't just get married an hour ago.
She wishes her mother was able to see her, to be with her. She wants to show her how strong she's been. Not when she decided that she doesn't care if she lives or dies, but when she decided she wants to live. Her mother never believed in revenge, she believed that eventually people always get what's coming to them. Their actions, malicious deeds, life comes to collect for those eventually. And sometimes it takes triple. Her mother would have never wanted her to do what she was ready to do. She wouldn't want her to crawl to the level Stefan's father did. Him dying before she got to him was probably life's way of telling her that. That she's better than punishing one evil deed with another.
Life lead her here for so many reasons. So she would see the wrongness of what she was ready to do. So she would find a home in a boy she was supposed to detest. To learn that children are not responsible for their parents actions and that you can't tell a lot about someones life looking from the outside in.
Ultimately, life lead her here because this is where she belongs.
Thinking about her mother fills her eyes with tears. She's going to have a baby and her mother won't be here to guide her through it. But she has learned so much from her during the time they got to spend together. She knows everything there is to know, her mother made sure of that. She just regrets she's not here, able to see her now, all grown up, in dresses she used to sew for rich ladies, in love, with a man whose heart is so big that it runs through his veins.
"Are you okay?" Caroline scoots closer to her when she notices tears in her eyes. Elena notices that the rest of the table is engaging into a conversation and that she was probably distant for a while, buried in her own thoughts.
She closes her eyes to wipe the tears away, like she's willing them to go back in. "Yes, I'm fine," Elena says gently through a whisper, a small smile of reassurance decorating her lips, "I'm just a little overwhelmed, I think."
Caroline seems to take this as a legit answer, because she nods understandingly, "That's completely understandable, I can't imagine getting married, my whole life changing, then pretending nothing is different," she squeals a little bit too loudly, but no one seems to notice, "I'm sorry!" she squeezes through her teeth, "I'm probably not making it any easier for you."
Elena's smile extends few inches. "Things aren't all that different," she glances at Stefan who is still discussing something with Damon, a small frown resting on his forehead, "We've been living like we're married for quite some time," she has to fight the urge to lower her hands on her stomach, out of fear someone will notice her bump on a tight dress she's wearing.
Caroline chuckles, her cheeks adapting the color of wine, "That's correct."
"Speaking of marriage," Elena cocks her eyebrow at Caroline, "How come you didn't tell me you're already promised to a man?" she keeps her voice silent in case this is a secret no one is let in.
Caroline blushes some more, muttering under her breath, "Yes, I am."
Elena tries to catch her look, but she lowers her head down, shielding herself from Elena's eyes.
"Are you not satisfied with the choice? Because I was under impression you welcome it."
Caroline raises her look rapidly, whipping her head towards Elena. "Oh no!" she says defensively, "I like Mr. Nathaniel very, very much, we've know each other for years. It' just.." she hesitates for few seconds, her lower lip quivering, "I'm afraid."
Elena releases a silent gasp. "Of what?"
"Of everything!" Caroline answers readily, "Leaving this place, going to live somewhere else. I'll have to leave my sister here," her voice becomes teary, but no tears make an appearance on her face, or in her eyes, "I know Stefan will take care of her, but I'll miss her so incredibly much. I'll miss everyone. I just hate the unknown. I'm comfortable here."
Elena can understand that. She would never want to leave this place either, especially if she grew up here. She doesn't want to leave it now and she very well knows how the building and the people can grow on you. But that's how it is, you grow up, you leave the only home you knew. She had to leave it long before she was ready to grow up. Elena nods, taking Caroline's hand into hers. "Listen to me," she squeezes Caroline's hand in her own, "I know that leaving is hard. I left everything behind as well. I had to, there was nothing for me there anymore. You're never going to leave this place, though. You're always going to have your place here," she smiles warmly at her friend, "You may live somewhere else, and let me tell you something, when you find love, you won't regret it one bit. But you will be able to visit whenever you want to. Quite contrary," her voice becomes less tense and more cheerful, "I expect you to."
Caroline's smile goes so wide that the corners of her lips almost crack. She squeezes Elena's hands back, thanking her for her support.
"I never thought we would ever see Damon getting married, though," she adds, her eyes floating in Damon's direction.
"I still can't tell what's going on in his head," Elena crinkles her nose, irritated by not being able to read Damon.
Caroline shifts her attention back to Elena. "No one can," she raises her eyebrow to emphasize her point.
"Stefan says he's not doing it just to maintain peace."
Caroline looks amused by this. "I know," she exhales, "He would never sink so low. I just never thought there's a girl powerful enough to tame him, either."
Elena hums. "I guess only time will tell."
Her stomach growls, begging for more food.
"I'm so hungry," Elena whines, poking a potato with her fork, "I'm worried about the amount of food I consume daily. If I continue like this, I'll explode."
Caroline chuckles, playing with the food on her plate. "I remember when my mother was carrying my sister. She used to say that no matter how much she eats, she's never feels full," her eyes become dreamy as the memory washes over her.
"Uh," Elena says, scared she will feel the same way.
"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Caroline asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Elena's lips curve into a smile, the urge for her hands to come in contact with her stomach becoming to strong, so she allows herself to lower her hands for a fleeting moment. "I do not know. I do know that Kings usually want their firstborn to be a male, but I don't think Stefan cares either. He says this is one out of many."
"You're going to have such beautiful children," Caroline squeals excitedly.
Elena smiles in return, because she thinks so too.
After dinner, Stefan and Elena make their way to their chambers. She doesn't feel out of place there anymore. She doesn't feel like she should go back to her own room, or sneak out before the sun rises. This is her room now as well. This is their room.
He opens the door for her, allowing her an easy access. Caroline's dress, which is too long for her, drags behind her. She has to walk carefully so she doesn't step on it, because she would surely stumble and fall.
When she enters the room, a gasp gets stuck in her lungs. A weird, squealing sound escapes her lips, making her sound like a wounded animal.
There are candles all over the room. Big candles, the ones that reach to her hips, are placed on the floor. Smaller ones are on tables and the top of the piano and the dresser. Tiny ones are surrounding the bed from the safe proximity of the sheets.
The whole room is lit. There are streams of darkness between the candles, the spots which light wasn't able to cover. The room looks like all the stars fell from the sky right into it. Or maybe they floated up, to the sky, when she wasn't paying attention.
There are flowers, mostly roses, in big and small vases all around the room, filling it with earthy smell.
She turns to him with a surprised look in her eyes, her lips parted slightly in awe. "Did you do all this?" she barely straightens herself enough for those words to leave her mouth.
He nods affirmatively, a smile creeping up his lips, pulling their corners up up up until they touch the clouds. "Well, I asked Caroline for help," he admits, his cheeks blushing. She's trying to guess is it because of the heat in the room, or because his shyness got the best of him.
That explains why Caroline was so excited, she knew there's a surprise waiting for Elena in their room.
Elena walks towards Stefan, standing so close to him that she can feel his heartbeat in every inch of her body. She pushes the door closed with the tips of her fingers, and slowly, they slip into their rightful position. She lowers her lips on his, giving him a small peck, before murmuring into them, "It's beautiful."
Her breath smells like ginger juice and baked potatoes and the scent of early Spring which gets carried in the wind.
He puts his hands on her hips and pulls her even closer to him, so close that she feels like her body is melting right into his. Maybe that's how it should be. Maybe she should melt into him so she can exist only while he exists.
His fingers dug deeper into her flesh, until the point when pain becomes pleasurable.
"How does being my wife feels like?" he asks curiously, nuzzling his nose against hers.
"Hmm," she hums against his lips, the tip of her nose still touching his, "Not all that different."
"Oh?" he frowns, his clear forehead getting attacked by a pile of wrinkles.
"Don't frown," she chuckles before throwing her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair on the back of his neck, "I just mean that I felt like your wife long time before I became one," her eyes shimmer in the dark, under candlelight.
There are no more stars in the room, they all moved into her eyes.
A mischievous smile decorates his lips. "Maybe I should make you feel like my wife, then," his fingers travel up her body, her breath sipping through her skin into his fingertips. Her lungs are empty but somehow she manages to keep breathing. When his fingers reach her shoulders, he removes the light cotton from the right shoulder and kisses her skin gently. "Or better yet, my Queen."
He removes the dress from her other shoulder as well, and plants a kiss there, tasting her skin. She tastes like milk mixed with sugar.
She tastes differently every time he kisses her. Or maybe she always tastes the same and he just can't make up his mind how.
When he moves to her neck, she throws her head backwards a little. "I'm not a Queen yet," the coronation still has to take place.
"You were a Queen since the day you were born," he murmurs into her skin. Stefan is a great believer in destiny, just like her mother was. Since meeting him, she became one too.
Maybe some things really are written in the stars. When it comes to certain situations, no matter which road you take, you will always end up at the same destination. The only thing that's different is how you come there.
The dress starts falling falling falling, there are no more sleeves on her arms, cold air is washing over her sensitive skin, but his touch takes the coldness away. He is so warm, it's like he's holding fire in his hands, lava is sipping off of his fingertips, and he makes her warm as well, just by standing next to her.
His lips start going lower and somehow they end up between her bosom. She releases a silent moan, her fingers still playing with his hair. She finds herself pressing his head closer to her body.
Until she becomes hungry for his lips. She feels like she's going to die if she doesn't taste him.
So she makes him lift his head up and before he gets a chance to react, her lips crash against his. If he was fragile, she would break him with the ferocity she lowers herself on him. He stumbles back a little, but regains his composure quickly, willingly parting his lips, allowing her entrance.
He's clinging onto her and she's clinging onto him and both of them are refusing to let go. He pushes her a little, making her walk backwards, until she hits the bed with her legs.
His lungs beg for air, he wasn't prepared for such a long and ferocious kiss, so he detaches his lips from her. She growls in protest, trying to keep herself glued to him.
Sometimes she thinks he's not aware of how much she actually needs him.
She's become addicted to him, he's her favorite poison, her vice. He's running through her veins, he's in her blood and in her body, he settled himself in the core of her being and she can feel him inside of herself, he's always present, always there, reminding her that love hurts and that love heals and that without love, there's no life, at least not one worth living.
Her dress gets stuck on her hips, and he pushes it forcefully down, leaving her just in her undergarments.
She pushes his jacket off of his shoulders and he allows it to fall on the ground behind him. She untucks his shirt out of his pants while the jacket is still in mid air.
He calms her arms by wrapping his fingers around them. She looks at him confused, but she lets go off his shirt and stills her hands. He lets go off them once he's convinced she's still by her own. His fingers travel from her shoulders, over her collar bones, all the way over her bosom which are covered under her undergarments. He slips his hands under the silky undershirt and his fingers scrape her skin, making her moan silently, through a whisper, which gets lost before it reaches his ears. His touch is so gentle on her skin it almost melts her.
Almost makes her leave her body.
His fingers brush over her bump, tiny bulge on her body you can barely notice. It looks like she swallowed a perfectly shaped rock.
His fingers go back up, and he places him thumb against her lower lip. He locks his eyes on hers. Light of one of the candles nearby falls on his face perfectly, revealing every line of it. His soft skin, highlighted cheekbones, strong jaw, kissable lips, and most of all, his green eyes, as lucky as a four leaf clover even when they're full of tears.
"Are you real?" he parts his lips and a whisper crawls out of his mouth.
He surprises her with his question.
He lowers her on the bed, placing himself on top of her.
He removes few strains of hair which got stuck on her face, his fingers caressing her cheeks. "How can someone so beautiful be real?" he asks gently, even though he doesn't expect her to answer.
Her cheeks turn red, their color barely visible on her slightly dark skin. She looks like she has healthy tan, the one you can find on women in the middle of the Summer.
She still blushes whenever he compliments her. But now when he tells her she's beautiful, she believes him. Because to her, he's the most beautiful man in the world, so he must see her exactly the same as well.
"I ask myself the same question everyday," she says, her eyes still locked on his.
She's as beautiful as your favorite item in your possession. Remember how much you admired it when you got it? How you thought that nothing in the world can compare to its beauty, and how you'll never find something as, or more, beautiful? And then you got used to it's beauty. You didn't have to admire it everyday because when someone mentioned beauty, that item is the first thing that pops into your mind. It becomes a well know fact, what you find beautiful.
And then, one day, after not thinking about its beauty for quite some time, you look at it and it's like you're seeing it for the first time.
It's the same with people.
Some people are so beautiful that your eyes get used to them after some time. At first, you're in awe, but after looking at them for quite some time, that beauty becomes everyday. It becomes a part of your life.
But every now and then you see them in a new light. The girl you know becomes your wife and your wife becomes the mother of your children and each version of her is more beautiful than the one before, until all of them mash into one person.
Some people are more beautiful than other people, but when you fall in love, it's not about the general definition of beauty. When you fall in love, the inside of a person gets mashed up with the outside, and your life turns into a masterpiece.
"I want to enjoy these moments," he kisses her lips lightly.
"I want our whole life to be like this moment," she says, pulling him on top of her, wanting to feel him closer, wanting to feel him there, "Promise me," she whispers into his ear, "That no matter what, our life together will be one moment."
Because one moment is enough for the big things to happen.
It takes one moment to fall in love, the rest of it is you gathering courage to admit to yourself that you're indeed in love. It takes one moment to learn how to walk, or to kiss someone, or to have a baby.
The rest of it, the rest of time you spend walking, kissing, giving birth to a child, is a preparation for your life to change. Life gives you time to adjust, to pain and misery and happiness and unbelievable amount of pleasure.
It takes one moment for your life to turn outside down, one kiss, one word, one touch.
Just one.
"Even when we stumble on problems," she continues, "Even when these halls become filled with our children and we forget to say that we love each other. Promise you will always want me."
That's one promise he has no trouble keeping because it's one he knows he can keep. "I will always want you," he says, sure in his words.
That's why so many people get it wrong. Because life is just one moment, the rest of it is waiting for life to happen.