Title: The Ceremony

Author: Rose

Email: buffybot76@hotmail.com

Rating: G

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Col. Brandon/Marianne

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from the movie Sense and Sensiblility. They belong to their creator Jane Austen.

Distribution: If you want it, just tell me where it's going.

Spoilers: The movie Sense and Sensibility, starring Alan Rickman as Col. Brandon and Kate Winslett as Marianne Dashwood.

Summary: This is the wedding ceremony we didn't get to see in the movie, or at least, my take on it.

Feedback: Yes, please

The Barton Village churchyard was crowded with horses and carriages. People milled about, men helping the women down from their seats. Little boys trying their best to get thier nice suits dirty, and little girls hovering with thier mother's until time to go inside the church.

Inside the church, in a small room near the front, Elinor Farrars helped Marianne Dashwood straighten her wedding dress and keep the young woman calm at the same time. She was constantly pacing the room, from the mirror on the far wall, to the door leading out into the church. Elinor paced behind her, turning the train of the dress every time Marianne changed direction. After the fifteenth turn, Elinor had had enough.

"Marianne! Please, calm down. Everything is going to be fine!" She cried, as Marianne yet again did an about face.

"But Elinor, what if I trip going down the isle. What would Col. Brandon say? Surely he wouldn't want a clumsy wife. And what if-"

Again, Marianne's 'what if's' were cut off with a glare, this time from Elinor.

"Marianne, if you haven't tripped by now, you're not going to." Elinor commented, when her sister yet again turned in her pacing. Elinor grabbed the young woman by her shoulders, forcing her to stand still. Looking her sister in the eye, she tried again. "Marianne, stop worrying. This is your wedding day. You are marrying a wonderful man who loves you dearly, 'tis a beautiful day, and guests are arriving by the minute. What could go wrong?"

Marianne's face filled with horror. "You've jinxed us, you know that?" She said in a panicked voice.

Elinor shook her head. "No, I did NOT jinx us. Stop being superstitious and help me to straighten my dress."

After that, Elinor turned so that both sisters were facing the mirror, side by side. "Now see, perfect. We make a pair, don't we sis?" Elinor teased her younger sibling.

"Of course." Marianne replied with a smile. Then she turned and gave her sister a tight hug, careful not to crush the gown. After she had released her, Marianne smiled. "Thank you, Elinor, for being here. I know I can always count on you."

Both sisters smiled then, before going back to straightening and fixing things. It was almost time for the ceremony to begin.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Col. Brandon stood, decked out in his crimson regiment uniform, complete with medals and sword. He and Sir. John were at the front of the church, near the podium, with the parson who would be performing the wedding. The guests were being seated and talking among themselves. Mrs. Jennings had seated herself at the organ so that she could begin the wedding march when the time came. Even though, on the outside, Brandon looked calm, on the inside, he was a large bundle of nerves. Much like his intended. Taking deep cleansing breaths, he tried to calm himself.

"I say, dear boy, I have not seen you look as regal as you do at this moment. Your young bride is sure to swoon as soon as she graces the entrance." Sir. John was just saying.

He had been keeping the parson and the Colonel occupied while they waited for the bride to get ready. Soon Mrs. Dashwood approached them and whispered into Sir. John's ear. Looking up at Brandon, Sir. John smiled.

"It appears our dear Miss. Dashwood is ready to become Mrs. Brandon." He said happily, clapping Brandon on the shoulder as he started off toward the entrance. He called over his shoulder as he left. "Don't worry Brandon, ol' boy. I'll bring her to you in a jiffy."

Mrs. Jennings noticed where he was going and began flexing her fingers, preparing to play.

The guests all quieted as she began a little tune to announce that they were about ready to begin. Brandon took another deep cleansing breath, poised himself, and waited.

*~*~*~*~*

At Sir. John's knock, Elinor opened the door.

"I've heard tell that the blushing bride is ready." Sir. John teased.

Elinor smiled at the man. "Yes, she is just getting her bouquet."

Marianne came to the door then, a smile brightened her face, her eyes shining with excitement and happiness. "Yes, Sir. John, I am ready."

"Very well then, Elinor, if you will take your place at the entrance. I believe Edward is waiting for you." Sir. John pointed out.

Elinor smiled, gave her sister a peck on the cheek, and went to stand beside her husband.

"Now then, young lady, how's about we go about getting you married, then?" Sir. John said, extending his elbow to Marianne, who curled her arm into his with a smile.

"Oh yes, Sir. John, please do." She replied kindly.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" He laughed, leading her to stand behind Elinor and Edward.

The doors were eased open and Elinor and Edward made thier way slowly down the isle. It seemed to take forever, but finally they made it. As soon as they had taken thier places. Edward, just off to the left of Col. Brandon, Elinor to the right of where Marianne would be standing in just a few short minutes. Swiftly, the music changed, and the wedding march was being played. Marianne kept her head bowed as she concentrated on her steps. She was still worried that she might trip. She was halfway down the isle, when she felt confident enough to look up. The sight that met her eyes when she did, was breathtaking.

Col. Brandon looked absolutely dashing. His uniform was crisp and well molded to his frame. His hair neatly styled, but still held a tousled look, which only made him look even better. She simply couldn't take her eyes off of him. She saw he had a wierd look on his face, and wondered what he was thinking.

Col. Brandon was awestruck. This beautiful creature was marrying HIM? How had he warranted such a gift? She was purely angelic in the wedding gown. A veil adorned with flowers. When she had looked up at him, and thier eyes had locked, he didn't think he would be able to stand much longer. His knees had become so weak. It became torturously drawn out, as it seemed to take forever for her and Sir. John to reach the alter. But finally, at long last, she was beside him. Looking into her eyes, he smiled tenderly. She returned the smile, then both turned to look at the parson who had begun to speak.

"We welcome you today to the marriage of Colonel Christopher Brandon and Miss. Marianne Dashwood. We are met together in the presence of God to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. This is indeed a joyful time, in which we witness the love of these two people expressed in the joining of their lives together for life. So we invite you to join with us, as participants in this service, not only to witness this union, but to renew your own commitment to your husband, or wife.

Ladies and Gentlemen, marriage is of God. It is ordained of heaven. It is the first and holiest institution among men. God Himself gave the first bride away. God Himself performed the first wedding ceremony. In the Garden of Eden, God Himself hallowed and sanctified the first home. And so, as we gather here today, we recognize that marriage is an act of God and not of man.

May we pray.

Our Father, as Christopher and Marianne come to commit themselves this day to one another, we ask that Your blessing and Your grace be shed upon them. May Christopher and Marianne, these two, be made one today Father, and may their union be made pleasing in Your sight through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen."

Turning to the couple, the parson continued.

"Christopher . . . , Marianne . . . , Marriage is a covenant of faith and trust between a man and woman requiring openness of life and thought, freedom from doubt and suspicion, and commitment to speak the truth in love to one another.

Marriage, therefore, is a covenant of love in which both husband and wife empty themselves of their own concerns, and take upon themselves the concerns of each other as they love and care for one another.

Do you both come freely, and without reservation, desiring to commit yourselves to one another in this covenant of marriage?"

Marianne and Col. Brandon turned to one another and whispered as one.

"We do."

The parson smiled widely, then proceeded on.

"Christopher, will you have Marianne to be your wedded wife, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

Col. Brandon had an ecstatic look on his face as he spoke. "I will."

"Marianne, will you have Christopher to be your wedded husband, to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

Marianne's voice rang clear. "I will."

"Who gives Marianne to be married to Christopher?" The parson asked.

Sir. John piped up quickly with his part. "I do, sir." The parson nodded, then spoke again.

"Real love is something beyond the warmth and glow, the excitement and romance of being deeply in love. It is caring as much about the welfare and happiness of your marriage partner as about your own. But real love is not total absorption in each other; it is looking outward in the same direction - together. Love makes burdens lighter, because you divide them. It makes joys more intense, because you share them. It makes you stronger, so you can reach out and become involved with life in ways you dared not risk alone. And now, if the couple would hold hands please."

Col. Brandon moved to take Marianne's hands into his own. And then, looking into each other's eyes, they began their vows.

"I, Christopher Brandon, take you, Marianne Dashwood, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

Tears were shining in Marianne's eyes as she spoke her's.

"I, Marianne Dashwood, take you, Christopher Brandon, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

Then the parson spoke again.

"Christopher, do you possess a token of your love and affection to give to your bride, a seal of this holy covenant?

"I do." The Colonel replied.

"What is it?" The parson asked.

"A ring." Col. Brandon stated, producing said ring.

"In all ages and among all peoples, the ring has been a symbol of that which is measureless; and thus, in this holy hour, a symbol of your measureless, boundless devotion. It is a circle; it has neither beginning nor ending; so your commitment should also be unending. It is gold; which is precious; so also is your commitment precious. And the sign and seal of this commitment will be this ring. As a ceaseless reminder of this sacred committal, place this ring on the wedding finger of your bride and repeat after me." The parson said.

Col. Brandon listened to the words, then repeated them back, all the while looking into Marianne's eyes.

"As a symbol of my vow, with this ring, I thee wed, with loyal love, I thee endow, all my worldly goods, with thee I share, and with them I give you myself."

The parson asked the same of Marianne. She too, produced a ring.

"Invested with the same significance as the ring you have just received, so this ring is a circle of precious gold indicating the longevity of your love and the pricelessness of your devotion. Place this ring on the wedding finger of your husband and repeat after me."

As the Colonel had done before her, Marianne listend to the words, then repeated them while staring into Col. Brandon's eyes.

"As a symbol of my vow, with this ring, I thee wed, with loyal love, I thee endow, all my worldly goods, with thee I share, and with them I give you myself."

And then came the closing.

"If there is anyone here, who has any just reason why these two should not be joined. Let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."

The parson waited a moment and when no one spoke up, opened his mouth to continue. But before he could, the front doors to the church burst open, startling the gathered crowd. Everyone, including the couple being married, turned to stare at who had interrupted. Marianne gasped as Willoughby strode into the church.

"Stop!" He cried out, as he continued up the isle until he stood before Marianne.

Marianne, looked to Col. Brandon and saw that his face was drawn in with tempered fury. Willoughby took Marianne's hands in his and led her away down the isle a few feet. Stopping, he turned to face her.

"Marianne, I cannot allow this to happen. I love you! And you love me, I know it. I made a wrong decision, I know that now. But I want to be with you, no other. And you can't possibly want to marry that... that..."

Willoughby did not get to finish his speech, for Marianne held up a hand to silence him. Looking back over her shoulder to the distraught looking Colonel. She hid the smile that was threatening to appear. She looked back to Willoughby then and spoke.

"Willoughby, I gave you my heart to do with as you wished. To hold, to cherish, to care for with your very being. And you chose to break it." She then turned to look at Col. Brandon. "I have everything I have ever wanted right here." She turned to Willoughby. "Go home to your wife, Willoughby. There is a wedding to be finished here." With that, Marianne turned her back on the man who had threw her love away for fifty thousand pounds and no thought to the consequence of her heart.

Willoughby stood frozen, staring at Marianne's retreating back as she went to stand once more by Col. Brandon's side. He swallowed hard, looking around at the wedding guests who stared openly at him. A look of resignation slipped over his face, as he nodded to Mrs. Dashwood, who sat in a nearby pew. She glared at him disapprovingly and he flinched, looking away. Slowly, Willoughby backed down the isle until he was through the doors. Then, he was gone.

The audience then turned their attention back to the front of the church, where Col. Brandon and Marianne were looking at one another. He, with disbelief and joy. She, with reassurance and love. The parson cleared his throat once, and concluded the ceremony.

"For as much as Christopher and Marianne have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this assembly, and have committed themselves completely to each other in the covenant of marriage, I do pronounce that they are now husband and wife according to the law of God. What God has joined together, no man may put asunder. You may kiss the bride."

Col. Brandon then drew Marianne into his arms and placed the gentlest of kisses upon her lips. Marianne returned it wholeheartedly. Finally, they drew apart, but never did thier eyes break contact.

Turning the newlyweds toward the crowded pews, the parson then stated.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present to you Mr. & Mrs. Christopher Brandon."

The roar of the applause and cheers that rose up from the assembled guests was deafening. Marianne and Col. Brandon walked then toward the exit of the church. The guests following them in procession. Both wore the brightest expressions of happiness that could ever grace one's face. The church bells start to peal, and a great cheer goes up as the door opens and Betsy comes out holding the bridal cake aloft. The bride and groom appear, arm in arm. Behind them come Edward with Elinor on his arm. Marianne and Brandon make their way forwards, everyone throws their flowers over them, whooping and singing.

An open carriage decked with bridal wreaths is drawn up to meet them

and Brandon lifts Marianne in, before climbing in beside her. According to the custom of the time, Brandon throws a large handful of six pences into the crowd, and the villiage children jump and dive for them. The coins spin and bounce, catching the sun like jewels. One hits Fanny in the eye. She reels and falls over backwards into a bush. As the procession makes it's way from the church, a figure is watching from atop a white horse. It is Willoughby, and as the carriage draws out of sight, he slowly pulls the horse around and moves off in the opposite direction.

The End

Next: The Honeymoon