Today a conversation with my twin sister reminded me of when Carys and Emmett had their bet, and Carys started thinking about all the name-brand food she could buy, and I can't stop laughing because in this chapter we see more of the wedding plans than we have, and I think wedding!Carys is a very different person to-the-rest-of-her-life!Carys.

If there are any issues with this chapter, put it down to me finishing it at almost 3 am. I'll try to edit tomorrow.

Eclipse, Chapter 30

On Saturday morning, Carys stood before the bathroom mirror and attempted to examine her scars without making use of the toilet bowl. Again. Almost every day since the bandages had been removed had begun in the same fashion. She tried to quell her reaction, lost the fight, then listened to Carlisle as he held her, telling her she didn't have to look if she couldn't bear it, that he was there for her when and if she wanted to talk about how she was feeling, and, that it would get easier as time passed.

Easier. It had been easy at the hospital when her bandages had covered them. Carys could ignore them when they were covered, for the most part. It was as if the bandages were a block for her mind. A filter. But they needed to heal, and so the bandages needed to be removed.

Every time she caught sight of them, she... She wanted them gone. She wanted her arm back. She wanted to be able to look in the mirror and not feel disgusted at her reflection.

The physical pain was manageable. The mental reaction was a torment.

Carys pulled on a long-sleeved top, careful not to tug too hard against the wounds. Her ribs were almost healed and so there was little to no pain as she raised her arms and twisted. It was sunny and warm in Seattle, but she would bear both that and the cold in Forks. It was funny in a completely humourless way. Emily's scars hadn't prompted the same reaction. Hers were far more visible; impossible to miss and yet Carys hadn't felt her stomach drop. There had been no disgust, no churning, no moment of recoil.

She strode for the bathroom door and opened it, walking straight into a stone wall covered, at eye-level, by a rust-coloured henley.

Carlisle's sweet scent enveloped her.

He stayed silent while he hugged her this time, settling his cheek against her head as she sighed. There was no point in wallowing, she told herself again. She needed to be stronger today. She wanted him to know she hadn't given in to her body's urging today. She wanted to convince him there was nothing to worry about.

He hadn't wanted her to go to Seattle. He'd not said anything while she got stronger and healed herself, but he had broken that morning.

"Cancel until next week. Leah will understand," he'd told her when she'd struggled to gather the motivation to get out of bed. "It takes time."

"I was fine last time I saw her," she'd argued half-heartedly. "And she knows my ribs are practically healed now. I'll be fine, I promise."

His reticence was understandable. This would be the first day since Monday that she couldn't retreat to her room if she needed a break. But trying on her wedding dress the evening before - it was a perfect fit in every sense of the term - had added even more urgency to finding Leah a dress.

"I need and want to go," she assured him. "Leah'll take care of me, don't worry."

He palmed her cheek, lifting her face to search her eyes. Carys nearly fell into his, but she held herself back just long enough to show him her sincerity. Her fingers twitched against his sides. Dropping his forehead to hers, he closed his eyes and slowly nodded. Any triumph Carys might have felt was lost in an anticlimactic surge. She did, in fact, want to stay at home with him, and in convincing him she was fine to go, she'd forgotten to convince herself that she was happy leaving the house.

Leah met her by the end of the winding road more than an hour later.

While Carys wore a long-sleeved black top, black shorts, and heeled boots, Leah wore a short-sleeved black top, black mini-skirt, and flat boots. Her legs were bare, far more suitable for the weather in the city, but Carys had booked a leg wax and wore tights for the time being. Leah made a quip about their choice:

"We should tone it down a bit. People might think we're too colourful."

Carys smiled. Tired as it was, it was a smile borne of genuine amusement. It was an indication of how the day would go, she decided. It would be easier than she thought.

Settling into the driver's seat beside her, Leah cautiously sniffed the air, her confusion evident. "What's with the scent?" she asked, waiting for Carys to buckle up. "I was expecting Eau de Stink."

Carys grinned. The boys might have complained a little, but the plan had worked.

"Jasper and Emmett carried the car out," she explained proudly, "so it wouldn't smell so bad."

"They'd do that for me?" Leah asked, her face wreathed with shock.

"They'd do it for me," Carys corrected.

Leah sneered a little, but the expression was forced from the start and dropped quickly away. "That's... nice...," she allowed.

"Even vampires have their moments."

"Huh."

Carys waited for her to add to her comment, but Leah let it go as she pulled out onto the long road.

At first, the conversation was stilted, a little uncomfortable even, but soon their near-constant chatter was only interrupted by songs they paused to sing along to during the three-and-a-half-hour drive.

Spending time with Leah as they used to - before the shifting, before the deadline, before the newborns and Victoria - was as undemanding as it always had been. Free from prying ears, almost nothing was off the table. And there were no questioning glances from the corner of Leah's eye, no half-hidden wariness over how Carys was feeling at any given moment, as she received at home from all but Carlisle. There was only the complaining, the laughing, the dark jokes Leah peppered about.

Once they'd arrived in Seattle, parked and walked around for a while, visiting boutiques where they looked at and Leah tried on an endless parade of dresses, the conversation turned serious.

Prompted by Carys, Leah talked about how she was doing. Harry's loss was raw but she was healing. She told Carys she felt guilty sometimes. Guilty that she could smile or that anything could excite her, but she'd talked to Sue; talked about how it was alright to feel okay; it was alright to feel good; it was alright to feel bad.

And she told Carys, then, searching through rails in yet another minimalist showroom, about how she'd deferred college for the time being and was thinking of going to community college while she learned to keep calm.

It was a good plan, Carys agreed, and yoga was supposed to be an amazing way to centre yourself.

Any mention of the supernatural was coded, veiled, the words left out entirely. They didn't need them to understand. Leah was finding ways to stop phasing and to gain college credits until she could.

None of the boutique's offering captured either of their attention, so they moved swiftly on to the next.

This one was painted a light grey - the sort of colour that was both warm and cool at the same time - and managed to smell of a peculiar blend of peaches and rain. It possessed a few rails boasting evening dresses. Not as many as some shops they'd been through, but more than others, and there was a white desk off to the side, a stark contrast to the walls, behind which a sales assistant stood, looking bored. It was popular for reasons as obvious as the sparkling options customers were pulling. Buried within the occasion rails, they found a structured floor-length sparkly gold gown with a thigh-high slit, deep sweetheart neckline, and thin straps.

Leah stopped dead in her tracks when she saw it and immediately snatched it up, carrying it to the dressing room along with a pair of gold heels.

Carys had spent too long walking around. Feeling drained and achy, she found a seat not far from where Leah had disappeared and hoped this was the right one. She had a feeling it would be, judging by Leah's reaction, but it would all depend on the fit. She was playing snake on her new phone when a hush fell over the shop.

She looked up, expecting something momentous had occurred. She found everyone - from the sales assistant and the customer she was checking out, to a small group of impeccably dressed ladies, women her mum would call 'ladies that lunch', by the rails - staring with varying degrees of admiration, envy, and astonishment towards the dressing room doorway.

Carys turned to see what they were so interested in and gasped. Her phone slid from her fingers and vibrated on her lap, signalling that she had lost her game.

A memory flickered, of Carlisle calling her, Carys, a goddess, and she decided then and there that the term fit Leah far better. While usually beautiful in the extreme, she was heart-stopping. The dress belonged to Leah. There was no doubt in her mind.

It fit her to perfection as if a seamstress had painstakingly tailor-made it to highlight her strength and grace. The shimmering gold lit the brown of her eyes, burnishing them to a polished shine, and set her skin alight, almost as if she were glowing. She wore no makeup; her hair had been carelessly shaken to fall over one side of her face; and she continued to possess that particular air of coolness that few could achieve on purpose, let alone as naturally and unintentionally as Leah did.

"What do you think?" Leah asked a little nervously, sparing herself a long glance in the mirror before she looked to Carys. "I like it, but it might be a bit," she widened her eyes and tipped her head from side to side, throwing her hair from her shoulders, "much, you know?"

Carys - who was blinking away sudden tears she couldn't quite understand the reason for - mutely shoved her hand into her bag and retrieved her bank card, thrusting it in her friend's direction.

Leah stared at the card as if it might bite her. "You think?" she asked, glancing up.

"I know," Carys whispered with a bright grin.

She lowered her arm when Leah turned and examined herself more carefully in the mirror, stepping forward and back, twisting from side to side, adjusting the straps over her shoulders.

"Fuck," Leah complained all of a sudden, her face crumpling. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"If you don't buy that dress, I swear to God," muttered a woman who had drifted closer to the pair. When Leah span around, she pretended to study a pair of trousers on the rack beside her.

Twisting, Leah caught the tag between her fingers and checked it for the first time. "Holy shit. Carys." She glided closer to show the safety-pinned card.

Carys sucked in a breath. It was just the sort of price she expected, but it stung all the same.

Leah dropped the card. "One second." She went to change, recapturing the store's attention as she walked, and when she returned - the dress slung over her arm, catching the light at every opportunity - Carys reluctantly gave up her chair and followed her to one side of the shop, where a small argument ensued.

"I... I can't afford this," Leah whispered, casting a glance towards the purchase desk.

"What're you talking about?" Carys whispered, "I'm paying, you ninny."

"And then I'm paying you back," Leah said pointedly, her eyelids flaring with each word.

"The hell you are." Carys folded her arms over her chest. What was Leah talking about?

"That's how it works."

"No, it's not. The bride buys the dress if she can afford it."

"That's not how it works, Carys."

"Yeah, it is," she insisted, whispering forcefully now. It was what her mum had done when she'd married Findlay. Carys couldn't remember having been close enough to another bride to know, but she was sure. Otherwise, why was she paying for Alice, Esme and Rosalie's?

Leah matched tones. "No. Way."

"I'm paying," she said, abruptly altering her tone, wondering if Leah's issue was with the potential of vampire involvement. "I'm paying out of my own money. Not the wedding fund or anything, if that's what you're worried about. This isn't you-know-what money."

They stared into each other's eyes - brown against brown - until Leah eventually relented, stared for a full minute at the dress hanging over her arm, and gave in.

"Can you afford it, with everything else?" she asked quietly.

Carys smiled at her concern. "I can afford the whole outfit and more," she said, seeking to reassure her

"You can't just buy me a whole outfit..." Leah fiddled with the fabric, twisting it under one of the overhead lights. She thought about it for a few moments, her brows pulling together. Her expression cleared. "I should get the heels at least," she offered.

"Sorry, Leah," Carys said with a firm shake of her head, hiding a smile. "You agreed not to argue with me paying our way today-"

"You meant all of it?" Leah asked lamely.

"Yeah."

"I didn't realise..."

"Does this make you uncomfortable? If it does, we could go somewhere else?"

"I don't know... No, I guess. So long as you're sure..."

Carys was.

By the time they followed their rumbling stomachs to a restaurant nearby, Leah was carrying three bags, swinging them back and forth as they navigated the crowds. After the first swipe of Carys' card, she stopped being quite so unsure of either of them. In addition to the dress, she now owned gold heels, a pair of gold earrings, a gold bracelet, and an emerald and gold hair clip to match.

Carys watched her from the corner of her eye as a smile twitched the younger woman's lips. She knew she'd gone overboard, buying her more than she really needed, but the wedding jewellery was her bridesmaid present to Leah. Carys wouldn't be around for much longer, neither would their friendship, but the jewellery would endure.

At lunch, they ordered far too much, ate far too quickly, and made it to the hair salon for their appointments by the skin of their teeth. Here, they were both completely comfortable with who was paying, and what they were getting. Each chose a trim, having their hair treated and lightly styled. The beauty salon came next, where they enjoyed manicures and pedicures; various painful waxing treatments; a hot stone (which was really a cool stone) massage for Leah; and facials. Though she too wanted a massage, Carys didn't want to risk her ribs or arm.

They parted almost where they'd begun.

Sue and Seth picked Leah up from Forks on their way home from a visit to Charlie's, and Carlisle collected Carys. On the drive back, it occurred again to Carys that this could well have been the last time she spent the day with Leah, just the two of them, and a pit formed in her stomach.

Two days later, less than two weeks until the wedding, Carys' veil arrived. The transparent cathedral veil had been embroidered with gold leaves, cascading one by one from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers. A masterpiece, it was everything she'd hoped for and more.

She had been sitting in bed with Carlisle, both dressed in their pyjamas, reading his diaries when Esme delivered it, and she immediately jumped from the bed, ignoring his laughter, running to retrieve her dress, heels, headband, and jewellery to try them on together.

His presents made up her something old (her dangling diamond and pearl earrings, which Carlisle had bought in the eighteen-hundreds); something new (her ring); something borrowed (his mother's cross and pearl, which he'd inherited and subsequently 'borrowed back' following his change, as his father had restricted access to them until Carlisle married), and something blue (her ring, again).

Emmett was kicked out of his bedroom with only the most fleeting apology, but judging by his huge grin, he didn't mind.

Rosalie and Alice were hunting with Jasper, and so Esme helped her into the dress and voluminous silk sleeves alone, then left her to add the rest. Carys lowered her gaze on the way to the podium. Esme's soft gasp told her that she approved, but she wanted to wait until she was on the podium to take it in.

Knowing her hair wasn't styled, and her make-up wasn't done, she took a breath and steeled herself, not expecting to feel quite as she would on the day.

She looked up and clapped her right hand across her mouth. Moisture pooled in her eyes.

It was then that the butterflies erupted, low in her belly.

Once they'd erupted, they remained, never dissipating for long. They became a near-constant companion through the next week and a half, which passed in a whirlwind of activity. There was so much to finalise and check over, there seemed not to be time to think at times.

Carys enjoyed it at first. It took her mind off her left arm and the horror she felt when she was left alone with it. There was always so much to do, and after that Monday morning, she was bursting. It was all so exciting. She literally couldn't wait. She'd thought that before, but she'd been wrong, she accepted. Now she truly couldn't; a large part of her anticipation came from wanting to see Carlisle when he saw her in her dress, walking down the aisle towards him.

It was so exciting. Everything. Absolutely everything.

All except for the grand total of the wedding. That had had a different reaction altogether.

When she saw the final bill, the blood drained from her face. It took two restorative cups of tea before she retrieved control of her tongue enough to swear under her breath.

Carlisle, on the other hand, wasn't phased in the slightest. After Rosalie's first three weddings, he claimed, he'd set up a second wedding account for when he eventually tied the knot. When he showed that to Carys - and she saw that they'd only used around a fifth of what he'd put side - she fainted for the first time in her life.

It was around then - the start of the week of the wedding - that things began to change again. Carys felt exhausted, then she looked it. Bruises formed beneath her eyes. No matter how much she tried to sleep them away, the bruises remained. Her body started to ache before long.

Three days before the wedding, two before her friends and family arrived, she became sallow. Her skin and hair lost the lustre they'd had since she'd been in the hospital. Food lost its appeal. And when she tried on her dress again, it only highlighted the pale wan of her skin.

"You're most likely suffering from stress," Carlisle concluded when she went to his study to ask him his opinion on Thursday.

"Stress!?" Carys cried from the wingback chair, staring across the desk at him. "Stress can make me like this? Wait," she asked, holding up a hand. "Did you factor in the chills?"

He nodded. "I did," he told her. "And what's more," he pointed out, "I think we both know the cause."

Carys nibbled on her fingernail, remembering herself just before she bit down. Alice was still annoyed with her for the shopping trip with Leah and the way she couldn't see what the woman would look like at the wedding. Carys didn't need to add Rosalie's ire over a broken nail to the pot. Shaking out her hand, she let it fall to her lap.

"Your body and mind have been under extreme pressure for weeks," Carlisle soothed, rounding his desk to fall to his knees before her, taking her hands in his. The butterflies exploded into action as he pressed close and said, "You need a break, love."

Carys sucked in her belly, shifting against the onslaught. Carlisle only smirked. She'd told him about them the week before, just as she told him that they worsened when he was close. It only added to her surety that it was the wedding and her excitement that caused them.

"Well that's not gonna be easy, is it?" she moaned once she'd calmed herself down, interlacing their fingers. "The honeymoon's after the wedding."

A smile grew slowly, spreading across Carlisle's face. "What do you say to the two of us hightailing it to your house for the night?" he encouraged. "A change of scenery might help. It won't be much, but we can ignore everything and everyone for a few hours. There are steaks in the fridge; I've seen you eyeing them all day. We can take them with us. Come on. What do you say?"

Carys hesitated. A break did sound nice, even if it was just for a night. But as selfish as it sounded, a break alone would be nicer. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been on her own for that long.

"I..."

"You want to be alone," Carlisle guessed, his face falling for a moment. With an understanding smile she wasn't sure she deserved, he squeezed her hands and said, "Everything's in hand. Go. Drive over and I'll come by tomorrow and get you."

"I-no." Carys shook her head. Even if everything was set in stone now, and there wasn't anything left to do until the next afternoon, she couldn't just take a night off. "Garrett's expected tomorrow morning, and the flight'll get in tomorrow evening, and-"

He interrupted by rearing up, cutting off her words with a soft kiss. "Just promise me you're not going to jilt me," he whispered against her lips.

Carys grinned and stole another long, clinging kiss before she whispered. "I can't say the thought hasn't crossed-" she broke off with a squeal when he playfully growled, pulling her into his arms as he stood.

Carrying her to their bedroom, he set her down so that she could pack an overnight bag while he headed downstairs to put together a kitchen bag for her to take.

Reconvening in the living room ten minutes later, she handed him a bag of his own, ignored his bemused look, and took his hand, leading him down to the garage. There was no way she was leaving him alone after seeing his expression. Though he'd tried to cover it, she felt too bad, and she wasn't sure she would be happy sleeping without him regardless. She would be doing that the next night. It wasn't a habit she planned on making.


Three hours later, Carys lay with her back against Carlisle's chest on the small sofa in the house where they'd shared almost all of the biggest moments of their relationship, and she thanked herself once again for deciding to bring him along.

He kissed her temple, grinning against her skin. His thoughts were clearly not occupied by the film they were watching.

Carys smiled to herself, caught his hand as it meandered a path to her bra, and returned it to the safety of her grasp.

Over the past weeks, he'd been almost obsessed with that part of her. More than usual, that was. As she'd lost weight when she was ill, and then stressed, they'd seemed to retain their size. It may have been because of the way he paid them so much attention, but Carys was almost sure they'd grown while everything else had shrunk.

"I don't think I've ever seen you eat steak blue before," he whispered enticingly, his right hand inching its way across to where she'd scuppered the plans of his left. This, too, she caught. He grumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around her, tugging her tighter against him.

Carys lifted their arms a little. She was uncomfortably full but felt much better than she had all week. She'd surprised herself just as much as him when the steak had touched the pan and she'd decided she wanted to eat it as soon as she could, rather than waiting the few minutes for it to be cooked medium-rare as she preferred.

It had been almost obscene the way she'd attacked first one, then the other steak.

He'd joked that they had "hardly touched the sides" on the way down.

"I've never had anything blue before," Carys informed him thoughtfully.

"I certainly have," he replied with a smirk in his voice. "Right now, as it happens."

Gasping a combination of shock, reproach, and barely concealed amusement, Carys made to elbow him and stopped just before it connected with his unyieldingly hard abdomen. He sucked in his stomach and grunted as if it had.

"Why are you never like this around the others?" she asked, throwing her hands up in the air. "Everyone thinks you're so pure and I'm the horny one. No one ever believes me-" she dropped her hands again, twisting and wriggling, slapping and shoving as she fended him off at every turn.

He released her when she huffed, resting his chin on her shoulder, staring longingly down at her chest instead.

"Honestly, Carlisle," she sighed, slapping a hand to his eyes. "You're terrible sometimes."

He dropped his head back against the arm-rest. "I can't help it," he said uncomfortably. "You're more irresistible than ever. It was bad enough before, but now... Your scent, your skin, your body." He growled at the ceiling. "You're driving me to distraction."

The rumbling of his chest passed straight through Carys. She shuddered, biting down hard on her lip. Carlisle slowly raised his head when her breath stuttered and shallowed, nuzzling her neck, scattering feather-light kisses over her exposed skin as he drew her jumper down off her shoulder.

Carys gasped, closing her eyes.

Her eyes snapped open and she pulled away, arching her back and shaking her shoulders, scrambling for the other side of the sofa. He let her go without a protest or attempt to grab her back to him.

What was wrong with her? What was wrong with him? Less than an hour before, she'd had them both questioning how attractive she could be as she wolfed down enough almost-raw steak for four people. She was feeling much better than she had, now she had some food in her, but... There was absolutely nothing sexy about her right now, and she told him as much.

A low growl coincided with her launching herself over the other arm of the sofa. It speared through her, making her jump higher than she'd planned.

He caught her mid-air, spinning her around to crush her against his chest. His jaw was clenched, the planes of his face hardened by more than his marble skin. He'd hunted days before, and yet his eyes were almost pitch black as he looked down at her, rimmed with a line of light gold.

Carys shivered, gulped, and found herself melting, wide-eyed, in his arms.

"Don't," he warned, ever so softly. "If you don't want me, I understand. If you feel uncomfortable or unsexy, I understand. But." He leaned in, so close that Carys' eyes crossed for a moment. "Do. Not. Presume that I do not want you with every fibre of my being."

Carys bit her lip, and his eyes followed the movement. He licked his own.

"Have you read 2003 as far as my meeting you?" he asked, just as softly.

She nodded, swallowing past a thickness in her throat.

"You have?"

Unable to speak as his hands trailed a path of fire down her back, she nodded again. Just the thought of what he'd written made her blush and shift in his arms. He'd wanted to possess her, he'd written. Hear his name on her lips in an abundance of ways. God, it was stiflingly hot all of a sudden.

"Good," he whispered, leaning in to whisper against her ear, "then, if I've been so remiss as for you to question my feelings, you know exactly how I feel about you. Trust me. Believe me when I say this is far, far worse."

He released her, and she staggered back to sit on the arm of the sofa to catch her breath.

When she braved glancing at him again, his eyes were gold once more, and he had a faintly apologetic look on his face. Thrusting one hand into his pocket, the other into his hair, he went to speak.

Carys stopped him, pointing here there and everywhere with her index finger. "You know what?" she said, in a slightly high-pitched voice she didn't recognise, just about refraining from fanning herself. "I think actually I'm a bit tired, and it's time for bed."

His jaw dropped. Horrified, he took a step back and-

"Together," she quickly amended, clearing her throat. "And I'm not really tired..."

A/N: I think we can all tell there's going to be a bumper next chapter for the wedding! I may be just a tad excited about this!

Please don't judge me, Carys, or Carlisle for the ending of this chapter... At least, don't judge us too harshly! I also think we're all yelling the same thing at the two of them right now! This was supposed to be a short chapter. I just... I don't know. I guess I can't write short chapters anymore?

Thank you to: BMBMDooDoo-Doo-Doo-Doo, Guest (thank you! And yes, she was wondering back in the day, but I realised I forgot to address the answer to it! Eek!), Books-n-Harleys, derniermom, seconddragon, Momochan77, KEZZ 1, jhaenox, 0oKitteno0, BubblyYork, GuestMG, Uchiha-no-Hime, and Shelly J88 for your reviews! Replies will come in the morning!