A/N: Poor Eddie is ready to pop from anticipation and lack of information. I do feel sorry for him...

Thank you all for sticking with me over the last few weeks of silence, anticipation and lack of information. You have been so very patient... I am happy to report I am the mother of a High School Graduate and I still have some hair left on my head! Thank the laude! It was not an easy road, four years of rocky road, okay a hair raising mountain pass in the rain and it was a frantic ending filled with anxiety, but all has come out just fine.

Fine enough for me to concentrate on Edward and Bella and their great milestone.

FINALLY, here it is... The men are waiting, time is ticking away, the clock strikes the hour, and the door opens... everybody got a hankie?


A magic moment I remember

I raised my eyes and you were there,

A fleeting vision, the quintessence

Of all that is beautiful and rare.

Alexander Pushin

Tormented more than Tantalus himself, Edward stood at the foot of the staircase wringing his hands. Any one of a myriad of possibilities could explain the sounds emanating from the far reaches of the master suite where his sisters and mother imprisoned his bride, however, none of them were acceptable. In fact, most were catastrophic. Echoes of muffled voices, snippets of sounds taken out-of-context, and his blindness to their masked thoughts threw the already anxious groom into panic.

"Bloody soundproofing..." Edward cursed under his breath, trying to decipher the broken bits of speech from the white noise in the background. Frustrated by the effort, he sighed in defeat. It was hopeless. Whatever was transpiring upstairs was outside of his reach. Moreover, he had Esme to thank for the obstacle.

To promote a possibility of privacy from many extraordinary ears, Esme engineered a sophisticated sound suppression technology into the home. It was not perfect, of course; some bits leaked through, but her design was very good containment. As a result, the security of the Bridal Sanctuary was far greater than distracting Christmas Carols or the banished groom.

At this moment, Edward wished his mother were not quite so competent an architect.

"What is going on up there, Carlisle?" Edward growled softly, staring at the ceiling as if he possessed x-ray vision.

"I believe the technical term is giggling, Edward." Carlisle smirked, stifling his laughter with a little cough. He was surprised that his son would be so rattled this close to the moment of truth.

"I was not aware that giggles are a portent of doom, were you, Carlisle?" Jasper muttered, sarcastically.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Edward snapped, lashing out at him with little justification except his jagged nerves. Humor, especially sarcasm, humor in its lowest form, would not be tolerated.

"Have patience, Edward," Carlisle sighed, meeting his expression with compassion. "The ladies will be down momentarily. All is in hand."

"I can smell her tears, Jasper," Edward growled as if challenging an obvious lie. "There are too many to count, and Alice is comforting her." Edward cringed, unsettled by the threat of every byte of disorganized sound that stretched to his ear.

"Bella is upset. You cannot deny it!" Edward hissed, cursing himself for allowing Alice to be rigid in the enforcement of the rule he created to keep distance between them. For the thousandth time he cursed the weaknesses of his gift that allowed a perpetual silence of his bride's thoughts.

"She is crying and I have to know why," Edward pleaded, the terror of unknown making him distraught. "Can't you understand that?"

"Don't be obtuse, Edward," Jasper hissed, rolled his eyes in frustration, and then wondered how Edward could be so insecure just when his long-awaited dream laid a hair's breadth of his grasp. "It is Renee who is crying. Surely, you are not so far gone you cannot decipher that..."

Jasper felt the sting of his brother's angst and although his empathic gift was impressive, combating Edward's anxiety was a challenge. The sensation was not isolated to this moment. It had been building in intensity for most of the day. Jasper was finding it difficult to resist the pull of Edward's emotional black hole.

"Be assured, Edward," Jasper thought, radiating a sense of peace. "Bella is nothing but excited. On my honor..."

Jasper's prodding was an open invitation for Edward to read his mind. Finding nothing but honesty there, Edward sighed, conceding to his brother's logical explanation, yet his acceptance was. Logic and reason held no power over the irrational dread he felt that something was terribly wrong upstairs and there was a conspiracy to hide it.

"You torment yourself unnecessarily, Edward," Jasper thought, steeling himself against the unsettling fear enervating the groom. "A bride's tears are of happiness and such tears are natural. It would be unrealistic to think otherwise."

"Right, happy tears, then," Edward muttered, gazing up the stairs.

Jasper's genuine and justifiable argument was logical, but the explanation offered Edward no solace. Slumped down on the bottom step, raking his fingers through his naturally disheveled hair, Edward was paralyzed by irrational worry. Holding his breath gave the groom the stillness of a frightened deer caught in the path of a speeding vehicle.

After all the preparations, and adventures along the way, in spite of his insistence to see this day, Edward realized he was facing something greater than any fantasy he could have imagined. Another man might have thrown the feeling aside, relying on bravado to deny the desperate wave building up like a tsunami. Another man might have broken down into tears like a warrior falling on his friends for comfort. Still another man might have run, overcome with the need to flee.

"I think I am going to be sick..."

Edward's pitiable groan was imperceptible to anyone outside of the family, but the sound pierced like a gong.

"Is that even possible, Carlisle?" he whispered from behind clenched teeth as a rolling wave of nausea surprised him.

"Under other circumstances, Edward, I would suggest that you concentrate on breathing deeply... perhaps you should give that a try." Carlisle grinned, thinking how strange it was that in this ultimate of human moments his son, who feared his humanity was stolen from him, was more human than he could imagine. "After all, we wouldn't want to you... faint..."

"Do you think mocking me will help in some way, Carlisle?" Hanging his head between his palms, Edward pulled at the roots, hoping the sensation would allay the tide of emotion threatening him.

"I am not mocking you, son, not at all. I am merely pointing out the obvious." Nodding his head, Carlisle searched to meet Edward's eyes. "You are experiencing a normal human physiological reaction to stress, that's all it is..."

Edward's consciousness, though scattered, did not dismiss the intimate undertone imparted in that single magical word.

Carlisle's affection for Edward transcended language. Through many experiences, good and not so much so, they shared many aspects of life over nearly one hundred years under the guise of such an intimate familial relationship, yet the term inaccurately described their partnership. However, in this moment, their supposed relationship as father and son was truer than any fiction could create.

"As for the chances, well... if I have learned anything in this life, Edward, it is that nothing is impossible." Carlisle stepped closer to smooth the obvious tension building in his son's shoulders. "There are highly improbable outcomes, perhaps," he snickered, "but nothing is impossible... certainly not where Isabella Swan is concerned."

An unbidden smile spontaneously illuminated Edward's face as his mind raced with images of Bella and the memory of each of the miracles that have brought them to this moment.

"Perhaps you should give it a try... breathe... in ... out... gently, naturally," Carlisle hummed softly, conducting the rhythmical pattern of life corresponding to the rise and fall of Edward's unnecessary breaths.

"Oh, I believe I could be a great Maestro..." Carlisle thought with earnest surprise, delighting in the idea.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you, Carlisle?" Edward snickered as the eminent physician played his hands in the air like Isadora Duncan.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Carlisle intoned, closing his eyes, a maestro, humming Beethoven's finest melody. "... and so are you, are you not?"

Following the rhythm of carefully metered breaths, Edward's fears settled down, entertained by the images of symphonies racing through Carlisle's imagination. Suddenly, Edward remembered one special night, not so long ago, that was marked by unexpected lingerie, nakedness, and the fact he guided Bella through her anxiety in the very same manner.

"One must breathe to laugh, isn't that right, Edward?"

"Yes, I suppose, you are right, on both counts." Edward cocked his head, chuckling softly, and admiring the ridiculous in the moment, he sighed. "Nothing is impossible."

As time inched closer to the hour, the murmuring of the guests swelled from within the sanctuary fashioned inside the expansive living area. The sound trickled down the hall towards the men like the incoming tide, each wave stronger, reaching further up the shore, and pulling stronger back with each pass. The electric energy emanating from one hundred thirty-four guests, friends, and neighbors was palpable, and anticipation was drawing them into a frenzy. The heightened emotions surrounding the groomsmen agitated even the unflappable among them.

"Chillax, Edward!" Emmett clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder with an unrelenting grip. "You got nothing to worry about," he said, shaking Edward, like a corner trainer in a boxing ring. "Short of a runaway bride, what does a groom have to worry about anyway?" Emmett shrugged with a good-natured chuckle, only half kidding.

"The groom's got it easy. Show up. Tux. Two little words and bingo! You're married. What's the big deal, really?"

The profound logic the big brute of a brother found in moments like this was rarely subtle, but often profound.

"What did you say, Emmett?" Edward could not hide his impatience, confusion, and the unsettling thought that somehow Emmett was hiding something. "A runaway bride?"

"I meant there ain't no way this ain't happening... the wedding, I mean."Emmett cuffed him in the neck in a display of confidence. "I mean,Ali and Rose got her captive, right?" He smirked, pointing upstairs. "...and I don't hear any screaming, so, I figure you are good to go."

"Thank you, Emmett, for gnawing at what little sanity afforded me in this moment." Edward hissed, hanging his head from the heavy new images of potential disaster. "Is that why they locked her upstairs? So she can't escape?"

"Get over yourself, Eddie, or you will puke!" Emmett's thoughts betrayed him. Shaking off Edward's laser beam glare with a mischievous twinkle, he shrugged. "... besides humans won't dig the groom puking blood. They are funny that way, dig?

Brusque as he was, Edward knew Emmett was right. Willing himself to smother his fear, Edward shuddered. As in many other instances in the wedding preparation, Emmett's brand of problem solving was entirely apropos and superseded all other possible management styles for its effectiveness. It was hard to admit, but it was true.

"What is the real trouble, Edward?" Jasper thought, feeling the sincerity of his brother's pain. "Something is bothering you, isn't it?"

Edward stilled in place, his pupils dilated, and his expression was a mask of stoic agony.

"You are more screwed up than usual, Edward, it's gotta be something." Emmett regretted teasing him once he accepted Edward was not making it up, being overly grim, or just emotionally twisted. Whatever it was that haunted the groom, it was real. "Come on; let us help you, man. What's wrong?"

"What if Bella really doesn't want to get married, Em?" Edward whispered quickly, expressing the darkest fear of all. "What if she is only doing this to please me? Or Alice? Or her parents?"

Moaning quietly, Edward pressed stone fingers between his eyes to relieve the tension, but finding no success. "Why did I make her do this, Em? How could I be so selfish? I should have done what she wanted all along."

"It's a little late for this kinda talk, don't you think, buddy boy?" Emmett shook his head, disbelief in his thoughts; he suddenly remembered a tactic that had been very successful.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man? You know damn well that Bella would not be up there in the torture chamber, marrying your sorry ass, and well... all the rest. Frankly, I still don't understand how she can put up with this..."

Although often Emmett's blanket honesty was sometimes brutal, in this instance his clarity of thought was the only thing to grab Edward's attention.

"Edward, I can assure you," Jasper interjected, sensing the need for intervention. "Bella is happy to be getting married. In fact, happiness does not cover the emotion bubbling up there. I make it rather to be akin to glee."

Exasperated by the unexpected conflict surrounding him, in sharp contrast to the delight found on the second story, Jasper radiated the emotion floating down from the girls onto the men as confirmation.

"Is that what she feels, Jasper?" Edward muttered, as if the emotion were alien. "Bellais gleeful about getting married?" He chuckled, surprise melding with delight. "You wouldn't just say that to placate me, would you, Jazz?"

"It's a very specific emotion, Edward," Jasper chuckled.

Edward scrutinized his thoughts and found nothing to contradict the statement.

"I know glee when I sees it, sir," Jasper said playfully.

"Jazz, are you saying that Bella is crazy-stupid excited-that she can't-sit-down brand of happy-that's glee, right?" Emmett whispered, shocked that there could be such a turn-around in the bride's emotions and thrilled to know that it was true.

"... that about covers it." Jasper nodded.

"Now, do you believe, Edward?" Carlisle teased, crossing his arms, punctuating the argument.

"You okay, kid?" Charlie's concern colored his voice as the father of the bride appeared unexpectedly. The unspoken conversation so engaged the Cullens, Charlie's arrival was stealthy. Although he was not privy to the conversation outside of his range of hearing, one look at the groom told the story.

"I am fine, thanks, Charlie." Edward skillfully donned a mask acceptable to the moment. Grooms should not be unnerved while standing next to the father of the bride... ever.

"Not sure I believe that, my friend." Charlie sneered, his eyes closing down tight with the decision to lead the questioning from his gut. "You look like you're gonna lose your lunch!" Charlie chuckled softly, his careful eye observing small details, hypnotizing his imagination with the possible causes of the groom's condition... other than the obvious fact he was preparing to get married in fifteen minutes.

The irony of the Chief's intuition reminded Edward Charlie's skills of observation could be a dangerous and real threat.

"Mmmm... pale, panic, frozen..." Charlie muttered quietly, putting the bits of forensic data together in his mind. "You under-age gentlemen haven't been engaged in some late night par-tay-ing at some house of ill repute, have you? That would explain why the under-age groom is green around the edges?"

Charlie smirked at the ridiculous picture conjured in his head of Edward Cullen, first-class straight arrow, wallowing in beer at a strip club. Surrounded by the snickering of men more versed in stag parties than he, Edward sneered at the images of strippers of all varieties cascading through their minds.

"Snowball in hell," Emmett coughed behind a tight fist, shaking off laughter at the idea such a thing was remotely possible.

"Alas, Chief," Carlisle sighed with mannish disappointment. "Alice had us all slaving till dawn."

"... and then some..." Jasper moaned, relieved to feel the tension of the room released by their laughter. "Have you ever made bows out of... tulle, Charlie? It is torture."

"Am proud to say I have no idea about it, Jasper, but since it doesn't sound very manly you might wanna to keep that particular adventure to yourself!" Charlie chuckled at the embarrassment Jasper could not hide. "But your secret is safe with me, kid!"

"I will vouch for the boys, Chief," Carlisle said. "There were no illegal activities coloring the dawn. Everyone was present and accounted for. All night."

"Oh, I am so glad to hear that, Carlisle," Charlie said, laying into his ruse with enthusiasm. "Bella would probably kill me and then never speak to me again if Edward spent their wedding night in the clink for indecent behavior... but I have to keep the streets clean, you know..."

"But of course, Chief." Carlisle grinned, extending his hand to shake on his humorous promise. "The citizens of Forks wouldn't expect any less... and neither would I!"

"Besides, I'd be seriously pissed if I got cut out of bachelor party action," Charlie quietly grumbled, and he meant it. "... and you don't want to see me pissed off, right Edward?"

As much as he tried to mask the potent emotion of his heart, Edward could not long evade Charlie's keen sense of intuition. Certainly, any cop can spot distress of the guilty conscience without much effort, but intuitively sensing the situation silently unfolding around him takes years of experience, and more than a little skill - it takes talent. Masking his emotions was definitely among the Chief's skills that bordered on gift. Joking aside, Charlie looked over the groom carefully and recognized the emotion coloring Edward's face.

"Edward, you look like every groom I have ever seen. I would know... I have seen more than my fair share!"

Although he had never come close to the marrying in the nineteen years since the divorce, the head of Forks' finest stood witness to more weddings than he could count. Essentially a semi-professional usher and occasional best man, Charlie had seen many young grooms panic in the final moments of bachelorhood.

"You look like you're scared shitless... an occupational hazard for grooms, I'd say!" The men chuckled, nodding in sympathy.

"Edward, listen to me," Charlie said, facing him squarely, with big hands clasping his shoulders, and encouraging Edward to meet his gaze. "Getting married is a big deal, so you're supposed to be nervous. It would be strange if you weren't!" he said, with an affectionate smile.

"More than that, you're allowed to be nervous, but don't feel bad about it, son. "

Charlie shrugged in his casual manner, until an image came to him that flooded into Edward's head, and the idea they shared made both men smile.

"But let me tell you, this, boy," he said with a twinkle in his eye as he smoothed the lapel of Edward's tux. "The minute Bella's eyes light up like a Christmas tree and you realize it's because she's looking at you... you won't be nervous anymore. All you will think about is your beautiful Bride. Everything else will disappear like magic." Charlie poked Edward in the chest, and he sighed, "Trust me."

"That is excellent advice, Edward," Carlisle murmured, nodding to Charlie, and noting the ease with which Charlie handled this situation. Although Charlie guarded his emotional life, he was quite adept at reading people, and even more capable of processing the intricate obstacle course of the human psyche.

"Seriously, Edward," Charlie whispered with a boyish mischief in his eye, dismissing the problem with the wave of his hand. "We know you are smooth sailing from here... all the way... You've got it all waiting for you. You're ready. It'll be fine."

The wink of his eye and the tittering chuckles of the gallery of his brothers was confirmation Charlie was not only talking about the wedding, but the much-anticipated events to follow. Edward cringed in mortal embarrassment to have his father-in-law discussing the virgins' wedding night, especially in front of his family.

"My sentiments exactly, Chief!" Emmett exclaimed. "There's nothing to worry about, man, I told you!" Emmett shook him, his bear paw enveloping his shoulder. "Dude, you got this," he thought, "you are good to go."

"Come on, Edward, my boy..." Charlie's thoughts radiated from him as if shining through his skin to reach Edward. "I give you props 'cause you've waited this long, but now you got some skills. You'll figure it out."

The thought expressed so directly was more than a little uncomfortable for the groom, and he wondered if Charlie was more aware than he ought to have been about the history of sexplorations going on under his nose. Jasper perceived Edward's anxiety almost immediately, but he also had a firm reading on Charlie's emotions as well.

"Charlie truly cares for you, Edward. He doesn't know how to show you except like this-his fraternity nature wants you to understand that he cares for you and he believes in you," Jazz thought, telegraphing the honesty he felt from Charlie. "He means it, Edward," Jazz observed, catching Edward's passing ill ease that infrequently, yet still potently, surfaced in situations like this.

Yes, I know he does," Edward whispered, agreeing with Jasper as Charlie's thoughts perfectly reflected this sentiment.

Edward nodded, smiling, and with a single nod to Charlie, he showed he understood. Although their relationship was interrupted by various bouts of contention, the father of the bride came to not only accept Edward as a son-in-law, but of late, Charlie had begun to look on him as a son.

Awkward as it was to discuss sexual matters with one's soon-to-be father-in-law, even in code, it was an interesting turn of events to do so. Whereas only a short time ago, Charlie was mortified into oblivion to think of such things, the respect he had formed of Edward and Bell's choice gave him the courage to support the groom in whatever way he could... especially since he could never broach the subject with Bella.

"Thanks, Charlie." Edward managed a more enthusiastic smile.

"What'd I miss?" Phil elbowed Emmett as he turned the corner to find the serious faces of the groomsmen. Experience showed him a fistful of Kleenex would never cover Renee's capacity for waterworks once her tears began to flow. Carlisle suggested Phil set a box of tissues under her chair.

"Not much, Killer," Emmett grunted, releasing his grip on the groom, eager to engage his newfound idol. "Edward's got a little cold feet, that's all."

Emmett relished in Phil's official minors nickname, "Road Kill," and the image of Phil's wicked arm and speed on his feet that left many would-be scorers cursing their greed and wishing they had stayed put on second base.

"Nervous, Edward?" Phil rolled his eyes, groaning softly in sympathy. "Been there, man, but it'll pass when you see that beautiful girl."

Charlie laughed, surprised, nodding in polite deference. "Great minds think alike!"

Just as the collective chuckle of the men faded, a wizened old man stepped out to the foyer, extending both hands to Carlisle in a loving embrace, and he kissed both his cheeks in succession. Although a common gesture of greeting among friends on the continent, a public exchange of affection was not compulsory; in fact, the warmth of the exchanges shouted the two men shared a deep affinity.

Withered with age of more than eighty years, Pere Fabian St. Michel was far from infirmed. His luminous smile, energetic step, and the lively twinkle in his tawny eye contradicted his physical appearance. If fact, clothed in dazzling chasuble trimmed in fine lace and gold embroidery that folded over a vibrant fuchsia gown indicating his high office in the prelate, he was a vision of life.

Clearly, this simple priest was more that he appeared.

"Dearest Carlisle," the priest murmured. His thick accent harkened to a time long ago. "It is good to be here, my friend. It is a blessing to me."

"You are the blessing, my friend," Carlisle whispered. "Charlie, allow me to introduce my dear friend, Monsignor Fabian St. Michel. He has graciously agreed to officiate here today." Carlisle gestured between them. "... and Pere Fabian, this is Chief Swan, Isabella's father."

Charlie nodded reverently in deference to the priest's age and station.

"Please call me Charlie, Father," he said, wondering how such a young man as Carlisle would make this incongruous friendship. Edward glared at Carlisle to answer Charlie's unasked question.

"When I studied in Paris as a young man, Fabian was my mentor and spiritual guide," Carlisle said, a rare wave of reverie in his expression. "He has taught me more than he can ever know."

"The good doctor may have studied in Paris, however-" the old man shook his head, chuckling to himself as he intercepted Carlisle's thought "-I believe he was not the only student..."

"Oh, my friend," Carlisle murmured, breaking free of his reverie, "you are the master of far greater lessons than I could hope to comprehend."


As the clock struck the first of so many chimes, the almost imperceptible sound of wooden doors brushing over lush velvet carpeting reached extraordinary ears. Heralding the emergence of the women from the bridal sanctuary, the men snapped to attention in anticipation of the impending arrival of the Bride. Edward rushed to the foot of the stairs, determined to be the first to catch a glimpse of his prize.

"This is it... the moment I have lived for," Edward thought. "No fantasy could do it justice."

Like an apparition in the night, descending with the grace of elegant beauty, Rose, Renee, and Esme giggled like schoolgirls as they caught the gaze of their man stupefied in silent awe of the woman he loved.

"No peeking, Edward," Rose thought as she slithered into Emmett's arms and offering a gentle kiss.

"Not a chance, Rose," Edward hummed with anticipation, a wicked smile creeping up. "Now, stop distracting me."

"Rosie, are you gorgeous, or what?" Emmett growled, undressing his prize with his eyes. "I could eat you alive."

"Later, baby..." She winked lasciviously.

"Watch your step, Renee," Charlie said, quickly offering his hand, doting on her with earnest concern. Stumbling was her nature, just as it is for her daughter.

"Some things never change, right, Charlie?" Renee giggled, as she gladly took his help navigating the narrow treads. At the last step, she paused, meeting her first love's eyes for the first time in almost twenty years.

"... some things never change," Charlie murmured. "You are so beautiful, Ren... especially now." The private nickname that was theirs alone danced from his lips unconsciously, and the memory elicited a shy smile that turned back time. "You're glowing."

"Oh, Charlie," Renee whispered, feeling the pull of nostalgia to another world where this moment would have carried an entirely different expression of their care for each other. "I am a cow, but you always did know what to say..."

Wrapping her arms around his body in a warm hug, both slightly unsure of the mixed feelings it brought to the surface, she held on a little longer than was necessary. Blushing at the unexpected awkward moment, Charlie shrugged an apology to Phil, deeply embarrassed to have forgotten his place.

"It's all good, man." Phil shook his head, shrugging, without pause or concern. "She doesn't believe me, either!"

Charlie respected the carefree young father-to-be for possessing more grace than should be expected from a man in this position, facing an ex-husband for the first time and under such stressful conditions.

"So, Renee... how did it go with Bells?" Charlie said nonchalantly, shifting the focus, searching her expression, and hoping for the best. With his skills observation at full alert, Charlie hoped she would telegraph Bella's reception of the staggering revelations. His concern for his daughter was understandable; Renee had put Bella through the wringer this summer, but his care extended to Renee as well. Charlie knew in his heart she would never maliciously choose to hurt Bella, and he acknowledged her decisions did just that, but he did not want their relationship to suffer for it.

"Everything is just fine, Charlie." Renee smiled, admiring the man she would always love. "Thank you, for everything..." she said, gently kissing his cheek. He blushed at the forbidden gesture and attempted to mask his embarrassment with a cough.

"Now, girl, get down from their before you bounce around that bundle," Phil mimicked a bossy grandma, taking her hand, and placing his hand on her blossoming belly, he led her out of the way.

Carlisle sighed, his golden eyes darkening at the sight of his bride beaming as she approached. The potent darkness of desire in his eyes made her gasp. The distance between them tingled with the electricity building in their gaze.

"How are you more beautiful with each moment, my Essie, mine own...?" Carlisle said, bringing her hand to his lips, brushing gently against her like a cat, marking her as his. "I tremble for want of you..." he whispered only for her.

"... you do have a way with words, Dr. Cullen." Touched by the unspoken promise of his intent, she cooed like a dove.

Dancing down the stairs, eager to witness the unveiling of the bride, Alice lithely leaped to her place, muttering last minute instructions. A tornado of visions bombarded her sensitive nature as the hopes and dreams of so many people converged in a wild flurry of possibility. To Charlie, she looked like she was speeding, yet to the Cullens' it was all in a day in the life with Mary Alice Brandon, However, the presence of so many humans meant vampire speed of all varieties was to be kept under strict control.

"You must tone it down, Ali," Jasper murmured softly, nuzzling in her ear. "If you explode, you will take half the town with you."

"Just wait you, Major, just you wait..." she chimed with excitement for the strongest vision rising to the surface of her consciousness. "You'll see. I was right."

"Oh my..." Looking up the stairs, Jasper whimpered, obviously surprised by some strong and unexpected emotion.

"You see," she teased him with a dainty finger. "I told you, Jazz..."

"Yes..." Jasper muttered, astonished, his eyes were wide with wonder. "Who would have thought? She's never felt anything like it..."

Turning his attention to Jasper, Edward searched Jasper's thoughts, breaking away from his unblinking vigil of anticipation for his bride's appearance.

"Edward..." Carlisle clapped his son's shoulders, turning his rigid body to face the wonder on the stairs. "Look..."

Turning with whiplash speed to look up, all eyes met the guest of honor, who was waiting patiently at the top of the stairs. Floating just to the edge, Bella peered down on those she loved, sporting a delight in body and mind that no one could have anticipated. Glowing with bridal radiance, not merely from the garments, cosmetics, or accoutrements, Isabella Marie Swan was transformed in every way. The twinkle in her eye announced the change in her was deep and lasting.

She is a new creation.

"Holy crap, Edward," Emmett gasped, catching a glimpse of a goddess on the stairs. "You are one lucky bastard."

"You certainly are," Jasper whimpered, overcome with the feeling of joy gushing around him.

"Oh my..." Charlie gasped, all his emotion breaking through such a tiny phrase.

The sound of her tiny human heart thundered in Edward's body. Feeling with every part of him the rush of her life force, the gift of all gifts, which she freely, willingly, and eagerly, he was overcome. The echo in the hall of her racing pulse was disorienting, and he froze in place, stupefied, as if he had forgotten his name.

"This is the moment..." Edward murmured. "Just as I dreamed it would be..."

As Edward met her gaze, his fear melted away on her smile, just as Charlie said it would.

"My world. My hope. My life."

With a determination and confidence that surprised even the manic wedding planner, the Bride floated to the precipice of the stair, finally descending to earth from heaven like an angel in stunning white. The gossamer gown, fluid, and light as breath carried her as if her feet never touched ground. Staring down on her father, who looked like he would fall to pieces with heady emotion, Bella distracted him with little entertaining grimaces, rolling her eyes, and yawning just to make him laugh. Charlie chuckled in disbelief at her antics and he turned his head away to wipe away the first tear of many. Carlisle clapped his friend on the back, a gesture of courage and compassionate solidarity, wishing he could experience the tears of joy he shared with his friend.

"Bride doll," Alice snidely grumbled, gesturing emphatically to the silenced chimes. "The guests are waiting," she mewed in her passive aggressive singsong tone that barely concealed a threat. "Quit stalling already..."

Unmoved, Bella replied with cocked brow and a haughty tone. "Oh, I think they'll wait, Alice..." she murmured, deviously.

"Bella!" Alice huffed and firmly planted her fists on her slender hips, expecting the gesture would intimidate the Bride, who until recently required only a secondary glare fall under pixie control. "What's gotten into you?"

"You brainwashed me, Alice," Bella giggled, the smile never breaking, holding an unflinching connection to the only pair of eyes that mattered. "...now, leave me be..."

"That's my girl!" Carlisle whispered to Esme, who grinned with delight to see the Bride finally stand up to Alice's wrath, however they were equally surprised by the strength Bella showed. The transformation of 'Bella the Meek' into 'Isabella the Strong' offered hope that after the change Alice would be the one having to adjust her behavior.

Isabella Marie Swan, the reluctant Bride of Forks, Washington, exclaimed in every cell of her body the delight she felt in this moment. Taking her time, relishing every step as if she wanted to make this moment last forever, Bella never dropped Edward's gaze, searing into memory the embodiment of his dream come true.

Much to the consternation of the wedding planning pixie and the astonishment of her families, the Bride was intoxicated by the unexpected thrill of being the center of attention. Rose and Esme exchanged glances, thinking of how reticent the Bride had been to embracing the power of the visual, and they giggled softly to see the stunned expressions on their men.

"... and you turn around, right now, buster!" Alice hissed, shoving Edward forward toward the hall. Misplacing her aggression on the groom at hand rather than the bride on the stairs, his shoulders twisted sharply as he struggled to catch a final glimpse of his bride descending to earth.

"What have I ever done to deserve to be loved by such an ethereal angel, Carlisle?" Edward sighed with disbelief. "Why did she choose me?"

"Whatever you do, Edward, you mustn't speak to the Bride..." Carlisle said, leading Edward away from temptation. "... the universe will come to a screeching halt if you do," he said ominously, and nodding toward the irate pixie fuming at the foot of the stairs. "It won't be pretty."

With wonder in his eyes, the vision of his eternal bride etched on his being, Edward withdrew from the voices that surrounded him, retreating into a quiet place in his heart. Determined to put all his energy into savoring the experience of their union, the only voice in Edward's head would be his. There was no room in his being for anything except his bride. The only sounds in the world were a quiet swirl of fabric, a tentative footstep, and a fluttering heart beat.

"Shall we?" Carlisle turned to Edward, clapping his hands with the delight of Christmas morning. "I believe it's show time!"

"Yes, Edward," Esme murmured, "it is time to go." The expression on her face reflected the depth of the joy in her heart, and the strength of her affection shone in her golden eyes. The unconditional love she offered Edward for more than eighty years crashed on him like an unexpected wave in a riptide.

"Esme, my mother," Edward said, enveloping her tiny hand in his, lifting her fingers to his lips in a kiss of adoration. Esme gasped at his caress and the sound of the most precious word in her vocabulary.

"You taught me to love," he said, smiling with his eyes. "Without you, I was lost, long ago."

"Oh, Edward," she sighed, tenderly tracing his lips with the soft of her finger, "you have always known how to love... you have just now learned to love yourself, and that makes all the difference in the world."

"It's time, Edward." Carlisle shook his head, smiling for the man he saw before him, whole, prepared, and ready to begin his life anew.

"Come, my precious, my son," Esme said, cupping his cheek as she trembled with the emotion of invisible tears. "Your beauty is waiting..."

A hush came over the room as the chimes faded. A strange silence lingered as the music found a conclusion.

The wedding of the century was about to begin.

With craning necks stretched to catch a glimpse and noisy feet protesting the wait, the crowd came to standing.

In the procession, both the families and the celebrant accompanied the couple into the sanctuary to witness their vows. The symbolism of such a tradition was clear, the joining of families important to the building of a marriage. However, for this particular family, the bond they would make held unspoken meaning. This mating is true, irrevocable, and eternal.

First in line was Pere Fabian, followed by Jasper and Emmett, who preceded Esme and Carlisle. Edward followed shortly behind them. Although flanked by his parents, the Groom walked alone. Alice and Rose, as the handmaidens to the bride were next, followed by Renee and Phil, and finally, the party was complete with the Bride and her father.

In a symbolic gesture lost on everyone but the Cullens, the bridal party carried the seven antique torches used the night of Bella's initiation ceremony. Tall white pillars inside the amber lamps illuminated the path, casting a lovely glow to the bridal party who seemed to hover just above the rose petals scattered underfoot. The natural scent of beeswax perfumed their approach and integrated perfectly with the abundance of flowers of every variety adorning the room. To carry bouquets would have gilded an already gilded lily.

It was a surreal moment where past and present came together breathlessly. As a string of luminescent pearls, each joined in a common bond, the families, which were once three, prepared to share a common thread... their shared love of one human girl, Isabella Marie Swan.

Unabashedly beaming, the ubiquitous Edward Cullen smile dazzled everyone in his path as he anxiously waited for his bride to appear. Struggling to contain the overwhelming compulsion to grin like a fool, warring with the undignified impulse to break out into song, and desperately wanting to retain every ounce of joy within his greedy heart, the Groom found it impossible to keep his emotion private. His quiet heart gushed with the overwhelming realization of his dream come true and there was little hope of keeping that news private.

As the first two notes of the Kodaly Quartet rang out, the Bride and her mother gasped in unison.

"Oh, Edward, it's perfect..." Bella whispered, a tear bubbling up from a hidden place as she took the first steps toward destiny to a sound that was both welcome and entirely unexpected.

Although the bride was unaware of groom's change in processional until this very moment, she was surprised she had not thought of it first. The first music Edward and Bella shared the melody was buried deeply in her consciousness long before coming to Forks, and when they discovered it together, it was a moment of serendipity that later would take on greater meaning as a sign.

"Suite Bergamasque, Edward?" Carlisle murmured, as the distinct and haunting melody unfolded, singing like the seraphim on strings of gold.

"This is lovely, but what happened to the Celtic folk tunes, dear?" Esme wondered, admiring the quietly singing of violin, cello, flute, and harp.

Edward shrugged coyly with a smirk.

"I lied." The groom chuckled under his breath, wanting the bride to hear his confession.

The father of the groom laughed aloud, equally surprised, and delighted to witness the wedding day transformation of the groom. The frightened young man who only moments ago agonized over the scent of tears wore a smile of self-satisfaction and delight.

As the strings claimed the strains of Debussy's Claire de Lune with such loving expression, the entire assembly felt the notes softly called his beloved's name in song.

A tintinnabulation of little sounds, coos, cries, murmurs, and gasps showered the bride as she appeared in the sanctuary. Buoyed by the energy of the room with a warm embrace and riding the joy she felt, Bella gracefully walked tall toward her destination and her destiny.

Passing through the aisle, the bride caught glimpses of familiar faces and echoes of sound under the song. Murmurings of gossips, barely masking their snide comments intimating they possessed an explanation for the apparently urgent need for this marriage, registered only as a low buzz, undecipherable as conversation to the majority, and easily ignored by all.

Rising above the lowest estate of acquaintance masquerading as more intimate relations, Bella's ear registered the gasps, muffled squeals, and delight of true friends, who were astonished, thrilled and exuberantly admiring the vision of bridal splendor. So many friends had returned to Forks from college orientations or final days of freedom before shipping off to school, Bella laughed to think the congregation looked more like a yearbook page than a guest book, and she wondered if Alice had not just invited the entire student population.

As if drawn to find her by some silver cord of awareness, Bella caught the brilliant smile of Angela Weber, the true friend she found outside of the secret mythical world. She was the only student of Forks High School who expressly supported Bella throughout the good days and the bad of her love affair with Edward. Angela's unconditional love was a precious gift to the Bride, and her presence here brought an unexpected tear of longing for another person she would miss in her new life.

As their eyes met, raising her hand to her cheek, Angela gasped and tears came to her eyes, mouthing the words, "You are so beautiful, Bella... good luck!"

With every step, an urgent need propelled the bride toward her beloved like the pull of a powerful magnet. The faces of the assembly blurred together in a sea of sensation. Bella focused on the brilliant topaz eyes drinking her in as if water in the desert. When Alice and Rose parted at the end of the aisle, Bella's eyes looked up to meet Edward's face, and in one perfect moment in time, their love was the sum total of the conscious universe. It was as if nothing else existed.

In what seemed like a breathless moment, the Bride and her father reached the end of their road together. Esme and Carlisle greeted them first with quiet embraces of welcome. Edward stood in front of the only parents he had ever truly known, prepared to meet his bride.

"Are you sure, baby?" Charlie whispered, not trusting his voice in the moment weighing heavy on his heart.

"More than you know, Dad," she said softly, realizing he would never know exactly what she meant. "I'm ready."

"Well, I guess this is it, then..." He whispered to fight the trembling that threatened his voice. Gently lifting the veil with a feather touch, Charlie held his breath as if in touching this vision it would dissolve into shimmering dust. With a smile that offered every expression of his fervent affection for the daughter he had only recently come to know, Charlie kissed Bella, cupping her cheek to draw her close.

"I will always love you, my baby, my Isabella," he murmured, whisking away her tears with the smooth swipe of his thumb, "...always and forever."

The words spoken to many brides at this moment of farewell to a life before their married life meant so much more to this bride than her father could have guessed.

Without a moment's hesitation to shrink his resolve and render him a boneless mess of emotion, Charlie offered Bella's hand to the young man who had become like a son.

Charlie may not have been aware of the details of this eternal bond between Bella and Edward, nevertheless he was well aware of the implications their marriage had for his life. Although he held the position only a short time, he mourned the idea that he was no longer the only man Bella's life.

"Edward," he said, meeting his strong gaze clouded with a tear and covering their handshake with his left hand, as if to seal a silent wish. "Take care of our girl."

"You know I will, sir," Edward spoke with conviction, never wavering from meeting Charlie's eyes.

"Yes, I know you will... son," Charlie sighed, nodding in acceptance. There were few words left between them. Their understanding was complete.

Alice gasped as the flash of sight barely preceded an entirely unexpected event, giving Edward only a fraction of warning to prepare for Charlie's spontaneous show of intimacy.

Charlie embraced Edward, holding him tight, and clapping him three times on the back, he backed away from the couple, ushering Renee and Phil closer to take his place now that his goodbye was complete.

"Bella, you are the most beautiful bride," Phil whispered, stepped up to kiss her on the cheek. In a sudden explosion of sentiment, a tear welled up and the expression surprised both of them. Although they had been a family of a sort for such a short time and he never took on the title or job as stepfather, Phil cared deeply for Bella. In light of his new role as father-to-be, he felt suddenly sentimental for the grown daughter he was losing. The sacrifice she made for her mother, her choice to come to live in Forks, which lead her to this day, was not only an expression of her Fate; it was his, too. It was her gift of love and he the benefactor. Phil realized he could never repay in kind nor could he convey to her how her selflessness gave him a life that he never dreamed.

"Be happy together," Phil said, his expression offered wisdom beyond his years. Hidden under Phil's youthful exterior lay the heart of an old soul. "Love each other first of all, never stop short of your dreams together and nothing can stop you," he said, embracing his bride, who shuddered at his touch.

Although stricken with a miasma of conflicting emotion, Renee she kissed Bella with a trembling smile. Mute for the paroxysms of broken breath unleashed by relentless tears, Renee turned to Edward, tugging on his lapel. He lowered his ear, unsure of what she would say. Smiling, she kissed him.

"I can see you, Edward," Renee said, the thought effortlessly breaking through his impenetrable shielding. "I see why she loves you."

Renee pulled away with a smile, embracing Phil, and moving to take her seat. The exchange was unsettling to Edward, who felt strangely exposed by this strange contact. Startled by the idea that her communication may not have been accidental, Edward wondered, "What does Renee see...precisely?"

The ritual of leave-taking complete, goodbyes symbolizing the transition to union, the parents peeled away from the couple, leaving them in the spotlight, and eager to touch after the interminable eighteen hours of self-imposed incarceration.

"Hello," Bella sighed, threading her fingers in his, eager to touch him like an oasis in the desert.

"Hello yourself," Edward murmured, running his thumb across her fingers, his velvet caress private and tender. "You are exquisite, my love..."

"Nervous, Edward?" Bella said, coyly, whispering as if the convention of silence was still in force. "... you look a little nervous..."

"Not anymore!" he chuckled, thinking of Charlie's prediction as he took her warm fingers to his cool lips for a loving kiss.

"Me, either," she giggled, blushing for his attention in such a public way.

"What beauty of love stands before us, Edward," the priest murmured, as the final breath of Debussy's kiss floated up like incense. "Such a lucky man you are, my son."

"Yes," Edward said, proudly. "I most certainly am the luckiest man... alive."

Covering Bella and Edward's intertwined hands with his, Fabian gestured to the assembly. His voice, strong and true, sang out like a bell.

"Friends, we gather today to witness Isabella Marie Swan and Edward Anthony Cullen seal their bond in holy matrimony," he said, showering the couple with light of his smile. "As we witness the consecration of the vows they confer on each other, may our presence here strengthen these young lovers on their journey... wherever it may take them."

The word piqued Bella's imagination like an alarm, reminding her of the uncertainly of the long journey to come when they would make an eternal bond. Looking into the old man's golden eyes, Bella was reminded that nothing about this wedding was a conventional human ritual. Every gesture pointed to the future beyond, and she wondered if the Cullens planned it that way or if all weddings focused on the unknown future.

"In the twilight of this glorious day we find the dawn for Isabella and Edward," Pere Fabian said, gesturing to the sun setting in the west, over the river, sending beams of colored light through the stained glass panels abstractly decorating the window wall. "With the awesome grandeur of nature as our backdrop, let us share a moment of prayer in thanksgiving for our gathering to celebrate the promise them make here today."

Energized by the current of anticipation, Jasper rose from his place to address the assembly.

"In the words of the poet Robert Lewis Stevenson..."

Lord, behold our family here assembled.
We thank you for this place in which we dwell,
for the love that unites us,
for the peace accorded us this day,
for the hope with which we expect the morrow,
for the health, the work, the food,
and the bright skies that make our lives delightful;
for our friends in all parts of the earth.

"Marriage is an indissoluble bond created by human contract but ratified by grace. It is a supernatural connection to the maker of the universe. It is a covenant by which the man and the woman create a partnership to endure for the whole of their eternal life. For this reason the man will leave his mother and be joined with his wife and the two become one flesh."

"As a community, we are spectators, witnesses to the magic that is the blessing and mystery that is married life, but our gift to Edward and Bella is more. We must offer our help for their success. Wisdom from many traditions is as manna on the journey. May the words of sages help to guide this young marriage. Although we may only witness and support the union that Edward and Bella bless here today, we can still offer advice.

"This is a reading from the First Letter of Paul."

Carlisle stood in his place and recited with the love that held no boundaries. The words, although ancient, could have been his own.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. So faith, hope, love remain; but the greatest of these is love.

"Bella and Edward," Esme said, standing to address the assembly, "there are many lessons you must take with you in marriage, but none is more important than the sacredness of your bond. This poem I call, "Eden."

Sacred circles surround you

flow with and around you

like water to spread the

seeds of love and laughter

cautiously growing,

rain falling in heavy leather tongues.

Wrap your arms around me.

Take your neighbors hand.

Sing to me. Dance with me.

Draw a circle of light around your life

To protect and guide you on the journey to the next life,

The final and most sacred circle of your life.

Slowly rising from his seat, as if reluctant to share his reading, Charlie glanced at Bella with an unspoken plea. Puzzled by his expression and utterly surprised to see her father, the man of few words, preparing to share a reading that was meaningful to him, and she smiled, offering him courage and expressing her thanks for his effort.

"This is a wedding prayer in the words of our Native American brothers of the Great Plains."

As Charlie's words slowly sunk into her consciousness, Bella stared, unblinking, wonderingmisunderstood his message. Ancestors? Brothers? The Great Plains?

"Edward?" she murmured, her mind racing with disconnected thought.

"Shh," he whispered, patting her arm reassuringly "just listen."

Above you are the stars,

Below you are the stones.

As time does pass, remember:

Like a star should your love be constant.

Like a stone should your love be firm.

Be close, yet not too close.

Possess one another, yet be understanding.

Have patience with the other; for storms will come,

but they will go quickly.

Be free in giving of affection and warmth.

Make love often, and be sensuous to one another.

Have no fear, and let not the ways or words

of the unenlightened give you unease.

For the Great Spirit is with you, now and always.

Her father sheepishly took his seat, embarrassed in the moment, and with a smile that showed he was proud to have given this gift. Hot heavy tears fell in fat drops from Bella's eyes overwhelmed by this powerful prayer had blessed her marriage in a way she could never imagine or hope to express to her father. Then questions brilliantly settled into her brain, her eyes darting between her parents. Charlie shrugged, offering a limp smirk in apology. Considering the faces nonplussed expression of the Cullens' surrounding her, she realized this revelation wasn't news to anyone but her; after all, he must have shown them the poem... so they must have known.

The urgent questions forming in her quick-minded muse would have to wait, but the disturbing feeling they brought on was difficult to shake. Edward squeezed her hand gently to garner her attention and smiled softly, nodding, as if to say, "Nothing to worry about, love." Bella sighed, relieving her body of the tension she had not noticed building in her shoulders, and she accepted his silent message.

"Marriage is a holy mystery marked wisdom of the ages," Pere Fabian said gently. "Undertaken with a seriousness of heart, such a union offers us all a genuine hope for the future. There are many sources of truth to describe the love of a family, and in our celebration this day, Edward and Isabella have chosen to offer each other a vision of this love they share."

In the planning, there was one part of the ceremony left entirely up to Bella. She needed to make a selection of a reading to share with Edward that spoke from her heart, and offered some insight into their marriage. It would have been logical to think that her shy nature would have made this task an insurmountable one, yet, she relished it. To offer a little gift of her heart, declaring herself as his through the poetry of wisdom came entirely natural to her as words brought a message of soul that gave her life.

"Isabella," Edward said, "I give you this from the Song Of Solomon as a song from my heart."

He held their hands together, circling her eyes never wavered, his velvet voice, hypnotic:

"My beloved speaks and says to me: 'Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land. The fig tree puts forth its figs, and the vines are in blossom; they give forth fragrance. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." "

A tear welled up in her eye, glistening in the flickering light of the torches as images of an immortal journey unfolded before her. To find in each other that partnership and joy of living would be her delight.

"Edward," Bella said, finding her voice, "this is a reading from The Song of Ruth that comes from my heart."

"Ruth said, "Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my peopl,... where you die I will die, and there will I be buried."

Edward's brow pinched and his lips pulled tight, as if his feelings would burst from him in a human display of emotion. The words spoken by a young woman in the desert, who forgoing her family and faith, joined with her husband and became as his people, even after his death. The story touched on a truth buried deep in Bella's consciousness. There never was a time when she considered turning back. She was a Cullen in every way, long before this day. Perhaps, her naivety created such certainty where there was no logic or reason to justify her choice, but for Bella, like for Ruth, there was neither pause, hesitation, nor no regret. Fate gave her a future, which she accepted long ago, and from which she could never shirk, no matter what the circumstance, cost, or consequence.

"Are you crazy kids ready?" Fabian's wizened face illuminated as he whispered, eyebrows raised, and excitement in his eyes.

"In the Christian tradition, marriage is a covenant by which a man and a woman establish between themselves a partnership for the whole of life. It is an indissoluble eternal covenant between a husband and a wife is created by human contract to be ratified by divine grace."

"Throughout the ages many traditions in the vows of marriage have emerged, so have been lasting, others less so. Today, the vow Isabella and Edward will take is perhaps the most traditional vow of all, as it exists in church records from the middle ages. It was the only vow spoken in marriage consecrations for hundreds of years."

I take you, Isabella Marie Swan, to be my beloved wife and from this day forward, to join with you, and share in all that is to come.

I take you, Edward Anthony Cullen, to be my beloved husband and from this day forward, to join with you, and share in all that is to come.

"It is the spouses to convey marriage on each other in a vow that is eternal, with no beginning or ending, a perfect circle. The exchanging of rings is the outward and visible sign of the covenant they have made which proclaims for all the world to hear: I belong to you and you belong to me."

"Rings are a symbol of this promise... if you please, Carlisle..." Dutifully delivering the rings into the priest's wrinkled palms, Fabian encased them in his palms, laying hands on them in blessing.

"There is a charming wedding ring tradition in England still alive today which dates to medieval times," he said, holding his head high, instructing the assembly with his words. An expression or irony accompanied his lesson, amused that such an obscure ritual was finding its way into modern life and he wondered how many times this particular ritual would be reintroduced in weddings of the young people present today.

Bella's brow crinkled, slightly unsure of this element of the ceremony, which was a complete surprise to her.

"Don't worry, my Cherie," the old man winked conspiratorially. "This will be fun."

Before the warning translated into understanding, Edward got down on one knee, kneeling in supplication before his Bride. Bella gasped in surprise, dumbfounded, and unprepared for this the next of many secret wedding surprises.

"Isabella, with this ring I thee wed.

He showed the assembly the ring, held tightly between his thumb and forefinger.

"This gold and silver I thee give..."

He slipped the ring on the thumb of her left hand.

"with my body I thee worship..."

He slipped it on and then off her index finger...

"and with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

Finally, Edward slid the ring onto her fourth finger where blood flowed from the heart into the consecrated promise and where it shall stay... till the end of time. Then, on the final promise, he kissed the ring, the ring his father gave to his mother, and with a kiss, he sealed the bond, just as he did when he proposed.

Edward collected my fingers in the palm of his hand, held securely with his thumb pressing my fingertips together, encased in a perfect sphere. My knees were weak with tremors I felt from the gentle caress of his cool lips. I brought my palm to touch his face, my fingers unfurled and with his eyes fixed on mine, he deftly turned my hand, exposing the site where my pulse boomed under a skim of flesh. His eyes fluttered slightly as the scent of my blood, which had brought us to many other dangerous places, blazed like fire in his lungs and reverberated in every cell of his body. The iris of darkness clouded the clarity of gold in his eyes.

So distracted I was by the attraction of danger, I could not speak, but I managed a dazed smile.

"... la mio cantante..." he murmured. Drawing the demon scent that perfumed my blood, he brought my wrist closer to his face and his breath hitched. His intention was frighteningly clear.

Under the spell of a dangerous show of his teeth, he held me there, his captive, my life his for the taking, I was paralyzed by the possibility that he contemplated punctuating his eternal vow with a vampire's kiss. He smiled, never leaving my gaze. He held my wrist, in open view to all the gathering, and with a decisive gasp, his tongue slipped out from his thin blue lips to touch the thick blue veins with salacious intent. A blinding flash passed before my eye. His kiss drew a fold of flesh into his mouth delicately between his deadly teeth. His cool tongue danced with the throbbing vein and his lips lavishly caressed the stinging site of his indiscretion.

In that one irrational moment, I thought he would do it... right then and there. I thought that Edward would bite me.

I wanted him to do it.

"I am my beloved, and I am his."

Now, why didn't I choose that reading...

I am she who makes his blood sing, the embodiment of an invisible and powerful temptation warring with the possibility of fulfillment. A wild desire rages in him to possess my body, my blood, and the very essence of my human life. We cannot deny this instinct to possess the tormentor that courses through my veins. With every breath I take, he struggles against this all too powerful instinct to take my life. Why should he deny himself the one gift I have to give?"

"Are you alright, Bella?" Edward whispered, squeezing her fingers gently, concerned that her attention seemed far away, and once again cursing his blindness to her thoughts.

The words stirred something in my mind. Instantly, his teeth released their magical grip. The fantasy vanished in an instant, though surely time had stopped to allow me to recall with such detail the event that took place in the time between breaths. This was a fleeting, but increasingly dangerous idea to entertain while standing in front of one hundred thirty four wedding guests.

My fantasy was perfectly logical. Edward could take me now that I am his bride. He will drink my blood that called to him so passionately, he will flow in me, his essence will transform me, and I will no longer cease to exist. I am a new creation.

I drew our clasped hands to my face, now flushed with ecstasy, desire, and surprise.

"Oh yes, Edward, I am alright," she said, flushed by the dream and the reality converging in her mind and body, and finally returning focus to his adoring gaze as they admired their rings glittering on their hands. The sight was disconcerting, although she dared not show that she had no recollection of saying the words or slipping it onto Edward's finger. Blinking rapidly to offset the sense of panic rising in her at the realization that it must have happened during the daydream, she turned back to face the priest, wondering what happened.

"Edward and Isabella, we celebrate your love and your promises and we wish you all the grace and help you may need along the way. Rely on us, your friends, and family, to guide you and offer you comfort."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullen."

With an enormous sigh, the sweetness of Edward's breath flowed over her as a perfumed river. The delight reflected in the rich topaz of his eyes was unmistakable. His dream had come true. With his cool hands holding her flushed face, Bella's heart raced mercilessly, so eager for him, wanting him, and the memory of her daydream fresh in her mind and body, she shuddered, knowing she was one step closer to realizing her dream.

"Forever..." he murmured, gingerly cradling her face between his hands, and drawing her closer, "...and everyday of forever, my love. You are my life."

Embracing, her toes suspended in air while in his arms, their lips met. The kiss born of this new covenant conveyed the complexity of the love they shared; reverently, softly, breathlessly intoxicating her with his essence as he had since the very first time they touched. Holding his lips for much longer than anyone expected him to as such a private moment shared in such a public way, the spontaneous wave of applause colored by the wild hooting and whistles of one member of the Cullen family.

Enveloped in Edward's arms, twirling her around his body in a perfect circle, and holding her so close Bella could feel his body emanating a cool glow of joy, a coy sound escaped her lips.

"Mr. Cullen?" surprised to have the capacity to create audible speech since her mouth was so dry, Bella quivered in his arms as she spoke.

"Yes, Mrs. Cullen?" he murmured, his black velvet voice caressing her throat as the pirouette slowed to a stop and her feet briefly touched the ground.

"Mr. Cullen, you are dazzling me, sir."

He feigned surprise, batting his eyelashes coquettishly with unabashed false innocence.

"Oh, Mrs. Cullen, no one is more dazzled than I..." Edward winked devilishly, scooped Bella up into his arms, and bolted from the altar. Propelled by his strong steady hold, her gown, and bridal regalia swirling gracefully like a sail, he danced past the radiant faces of family and friends who showered them with lavish applause.

"Alice, you were right!" Bella whispered, laying her head against Edward's shoulder, speaking just loud enough to be heard by the Cullens' enhanced senses. "You were right," she squealed, as Edward raced down at a breakneck speed. "You little pixie! You were right about everything!"


A/N: Sigh... I don't know about you, but I am heading for the Dom Perignon fountain! I would love to have everyone sign the guest book for Edward and Bella's keepsake album. All you have to do is press that little button...

NEXT UP: The Reception and then... the moment we've all been waiting for...

THANKS AGAIN ALL YOU LOYAL READERS FOR YOUR AFFECTION AND PATIENCE DURING THESE...HARD...WEEKS FOR ME AND MY FAMILY! YOU ARE THE BEST!