A/N - Boo Hoo! It's almost over! After this will be an Epilogue. Perhaps one more chapter before it, but I haven't completely decided yet.

Thanks again for all of the great reviews! I appreciate them.

To answer the question about William; I have a few ideas, but I've not incorporated them yet. Let's just say this, he's NOT gone! Mwahaha.

Also, you guys DO know there is another installation following this one? So it's a trilogy. First is Enigmatic Darkness, which will definitely be updated tomorrow.. and then Twisted Fate, which is almost done :(, and then there will be a third part. It will explore the Nicholas/Elizabeth relationship a bit more than we were able to accomplish in this one, as well as find out what the future holds for Erik and where William does fit into it all!

PLEASE REVIEW :)

The music was pleasant. Nothing special, and no one present would think of it again after that day, but still the sweet chords rang through the sanctuary. It was a familiar melody, and it heralded the arrival of the bride. Nicholas had turned, still rather nervous, to glance in her direction. What his gaze found was nothing less than astonishing.

The Vicomte de Chagny, of course, looked regal in his fine dress regalia. His dark hair, greying at the temples, was swept away from his fine features simply and his gaze was proud. A smile shone upon his face as he glanced toward his beautiful daughter, upon his arm.

The bride appeared more than a little reluctant. Her steps were calculated and slow, and even from his distance Nicholas could tell that she trembled. The gown she wore was magnificent, hugging her exquisite form in a most appealing manner. It was carefully intricate, delightfully simple. It's perfect, he thought. His gaze ventured higher to find that her eyes, those eyes that captivated him so, were cast downwards. Oh, how he longed to see her smile at him! He needed that smile to assuage his fears, his uncertainty. He needed to know that she desired this at least half as much as he did!

He did not have long to wait, for before he realized it, Elizabeth was before him. Her father had placed a parting kiss upon her cheek, and then stepped away - joining Christine in a nearby seat. All those attending settled as well, in a rustle of gowns and creaking of the wooden pews. The moment seemed surreal, as the priest began to speak. His words were lost upon Nicholas, who could not hear above the incessant pounding of his heart and the screaming of his mind. Look at me! Please, sweet Beth, only look at me.

His beloved did not seem inclined to obey the silent beseeching, and so he acted quite brazenly. He extended his hand, and captured her own. At first he thought she might wrench it from his grasp, but then it seemed she remembered herself and simply left her trembling hand within his own. He could feel her fear, her inhibitions. He could not allow her to pledge her life to him, without even realizing who he was! He could not allow their union to be tainted with the memory of such fear. Completely disregarding all propriety and order, he spoke softly over the drone of the Priest. Only those closest to them would have heard the simple words.

"My sweet Beth.."

The journey to the altar was, without a doubt, the longest and shortest that Elizabeth had ever experienced. Despite her attempt to prolong it, she found herself near the groom and Priest before she knew it. Alternately, she felt as though she were a prisoner marching toward the guillotine and the way spread out before her endlessly.

The relative warmth and comfort her father had provided was taken away as well, with only a soft kiss of betrayal. Elizabeth stood stoicly, obediently before William, her mind racing. She had not even had the opportunity to tell Nicholas goodbye! A single kiss from him now would be adulterous. She would never taste his lips again! How selfish he had been to not come to her, knowing her plight and destiny. And how selfish and childish she was, to even think such things.

The tears that filled her eyes threatened to spill over, just as William reached to take her hand. Instinctively, she started to jerk it away from him. His was the last touch she wanted in this moment! The dull monotone of the Priest seemed to taunt her, and despite all of the courage she had attempted to muster moments before, Elizabeth felt as though she may very well collapse. She relented to the hand upon her own, needing it for strength. Just as she neared the brink of her tears, emotion threatening to overwhelm her, she heard a voice. Familiar and wonderful.

"My sweet Beth."

The words were out of place, spoken even as the priest continued his bit about love. Elizabeth glanced up sharply, and found the masked face of Nicholas before her instead. She shuddered, fearing that her mind was deceiving her. Pretty tear-filled eyes dropped quickly, away from the much desired apparition. It seemed unfair that her mind would torture her in such a way now!

Nicholas felt a pang of regret as she looked away from him, fearing it a signal of rejection. He would not be the one to force a marriage upon Elizabeth that she did not desire. He released her hand, and intended to speak. He was taken aback, however, to find that Elizabeth had reached for his hand once more, capturing it securely and tightly within her slender digits.

The eyes that he found gazing upon him were still glossy from those tears, but hope and appreciation filled them. Not least of all was love. Nicholas could see it radiating from her beautiful face, and that sweet smile he had longed for. It made tremors in his soul. No other person had ever looked upon him with such open affection.

The Priest continued.

Nicholas could not help but smile as well at his bride. Silently her mouth formed the word, "how?"

Nicholas felt like laughing, knowing that she would find the story quite remarkable when he had time to recount it to her. In answer, he simply shook his head almost imperceptibly as if to say 'not now'. Elizabeth squeezed his fingers in consent.

The Priest had stopped talking, and looked to Nicholas expectantly. Nicholas glanced up in confusion, and the priest instructed him in a whisper.

The time had come to make their vows, to declare before God and man that they did desire to be wed. Nicholas, however, had to be sure. He uttered the words beneath his breath.

"I love you, Elizabeth."

"I love you too."

"Marry me?"

"Yes."

"I do," Nicholas finally stated, even as the crowd had begun to squirm at his apparent hesitance.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur, with promises of love from the two giddy lovers. Finally came the moment Nicholas had been longing for. He was instructed to claim the lips of his wife in a kiss.

Their lips met, a fire raging within the two. Nicholas slipped his arms about her waist, cradling her against him even as she encircled his broad shoulders with her own arms. The kiss lasted much longer than propriety would have deemed necessary, but neither cared. They were finally parted at the insistence of the Priest, and both laughed.

The organ began to play a jubilant tone, and they reluctantly released one another.

"My wife," Nicholas laughed softly, stealing another quick kiss.

"Yes, my husband!" she chimed, even as they were ushered back down the aisle. An elaborate reception awaited them, as well as the rest of their lives.