Dedication: To everyone who waited patiently for this chapter. Yes, I do plan on finishing it!

Chapter 18: Starting New

"Well?" Paris asked as she stared at her wide-eyed and suddenly mute maid of honor. She stepped out from behind the partition, the satin of her white dress swishing slightly from the movement. She turned slowly so that Rory could get the full effect of the gown, the long Chapel style train, the lacy sleeves, the v-necked bodice and back. "Gilmore? I need an opinion."

Rory blinked; the sight of Paris in her wedding dress was making her misty-eyed. "Paris. You look gorgeous. God, Jess is going to have a heart attack."

That idea brought a small smile to the bride's face and satisfied, she turned to the full-length mirror behind her to check her appearance. Her hair was done in a soft French knot and the make-up was light and perfect, highlighting her smile and eyes and not in a way that made her look hideously made up. Of course, Lorelai Gilmore Danes knew her make-up. "Well, I guess all I need is my tiara. Huh, I never thought I'd say that."

Rory, who was holding the tiara in her hand, walked up behind her friend and stared at their reflections in the mirror, smiling as tears still threatened to fall. "I can't believe you're getting married. Actually, I can't believe Jess is getting married."

Paris's lips twisted wryly as Rory fixed the tiara into the long blonde tresses. "Get in line, sister. I wasn't nervous. Really, I wasn't. I had no time to be nervous but now, standing here with T-minus ten minutes to go before I become Mrs. Mariano…I think I might hurl."

"Well I am not cleaning it up, Gellar," Louise stated as she sashayed into the room, her steely blue bridesmaid dress clinging to her figure and showing off her beautiful tan. Madeline followed her, carrying the bouquet and nodding enthusiastically. Both girls stopped when they saw the bride and like Rory, looked like they were holding back tears.

"Paris, you're stunning," Madeline said, letting a tear run down her cheek, trailing mascara along with it. "Damn, I knew I should have waited to make my face up until after I saw you in the dress."

The four women stood in the small room, grinning at each other and Paris sniffed. "Oh Lord, you're going to get me going, aren't you? Jesus, well, come here you guys and let's get this mushy stuff over with."

They gathered in a group hug, giggling, sniffling, talking and murmuring and each trying desperately not to cry as they took in this one moment, sort of falling apart before they had to step into their roles so that the wedding and reception went off without a hitch.

Rory laughed, one arm slung over the bride and another wrapped around Madeline's waist. "Paris, you promised you wouldn't do this."

"Shut up Gilmore and let me make my speech. You guys are the best friends I have ever had," she stated seriously, sincerely and then smiled and kissed each of them on the cheek. "Thank you. For this moment. For everything."

There was a knock on the door and then Lorelai poked her head inside and smiled. "All systems are go out here, ladies. Are we ready?"

The three bridesmaids looked at the bride. Paris took a deep breath and nodded. "As I'll ever be."

& -

Tristan stood near the entrance of the church and glanced at his watch for what seemed like the fiftieth time and then at the door and then shook his head disappointed. He saw Lorelai go back into the room to signal Paris that it was time to walk down the aisle and he let go of his breath – and the frail cord of hope that he hadn't realized he'd been desperately clinging to.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Georgia Hayden was clad in a pretty cream-lace dress, holding a small basket of flowers and she didn't look very pleased about it. When Tristan merely raised an eyebrow, she gestured towards the door. "You want to go somewhere?"

The kid was sharp; he didn't expect anything else from Rory's sister. He shook his head and pocketed his hands as the flower girl's eyes remained on him, uncannily reminding him of the way Rory often looked at him. Steadily and curiously assessing him. "Just waiting for someone to show up."

The child's eyes narrowed suspiciously and he saw a spark of anger in them. "A date?"

Wisely, he held back a chuckle and kept his eyes solemn. "No, George, not a date."

After a minute, she accepted that and nodded. She had always liked him; he knew that at times she knew he wasn't the bad guy when it came to his relationship with her sister. It was very odd that the opinion of a child could matter so much to him. "Good. I don't want you to cause a scene."

Before he could promise he wouldn't, Jake walked up to Georgia and tugged on her dress. The girl turned to the boy and smiled, adjusting the pillow he held in his hands, void for now, of the rings. "Dad won't give me rings."

"You have an important job today, kid," Tristan cut in and then knelt down next to the children. "Your dad just wants to make sure that you're doing the job right. And you'll do a great job, right?"

Jake nodded enthusiastically. "The best."

"Well, it's show time," Lorelai stated as she rushed back into the entrance, the click of her heels stopping abruptly when she saw Tristan kneeling between her son and Georgia. He stood up slowly and gave her a small, even smile. "Tristan."

"Lorelai," he returned. She looked like seeing him had reminded her that he would be here, that there could be potential trouble. The distrust in her eyes had stopped bothering him a long time ago.

A potentially awkward conversation was interrupted as the bridesmaids, emptied out from the small chamber in the back. Unwillingly, he let his gaze linger on Roy longer than necessary. And she met it briefly, before dismissing him and turning her attention back to her duties.

It hurt. Even though he had prepared himself all morning to deal with the fact that Rory would be at the wedding, that at some point they would be forced to interact with each other and that there was a very good chance that she would go on as she always did, play the game he was sure they'd grown out of, pretend that nothing ever happened, but it still hurt. Beyond measure.

He turned his attention from her, the commotion of the wedding party making it easier for him to keep his expression completely neutral, and focused on Paris, who emerged from behind Rory, gorgeous and glowing in her dress. Tristan couldn't recall one time in the twenty-six years he had known her when she had ever looked as radiant as she did now; he had never considered her a typical anything and it amused him to no end that she looked like the very definition of a blushing bride.

"What are you grinning about, DuGrey?" she barked at him, as everyone arranged themselves to walk down the aisle. Paris gathered the bottom of her dress in her arms and marched up to him. "Wipe that smirk off your face. I will not have you making your lewd comments as I walk down the aisle."

He took her hands in his and his smile only broadened as he leaned down and kissed her cheek, surprising her. "Paris, you look stunning. I'm just standing here and thinking what a big dumb-ass I am for not snatching you up when I had the chance."

"You were always slow to realize a good thing when it stared you right in the face." She laughed and took his face in her hands. "Thank you. For being here, for doing this. You don't know what this means to me."

He opened his mouth to answer just as the door of the church opened and the guest he had been waiting for finally arrived. He looked down at Paris and smiled. "No, I think I know exactly what this means to you. Hello Mr. Gellar."

Paris's eyes widened in shock and she turned around and stiffened, seeing her father at the door, in a tux, fidgeting nervously with his bowtie with one hand and running a hand through his sandy-blond hair. Tentatively, he offered his daughter a meek smile. "I hope I'm not too late, Paris."

"Father. What are you doing here?"

Arthur Gellar approached his daughter, while the others realized that something was happening and turned their attention to the bride. "Tristan called me. I was surprised to hear from him after so many years, I didn't even realize he was calling about the wedding. He gave me the date and time and place and said that maybe I still had a chance. That maybe I'd still be able to give you away. And here I am, hoping that he's right."

She turned back to Tristan, who smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"Par?" Rory asked softly from her place in the wedding procession, right behind Tristan. She glanced up at him briefly, her eyes unreadable until they turned back to the bride, questioningly. The sound of the organ playing the wedding march rang through the church. "Paris?"

Tristan could see the sheen of tears in Paris's eyes as she met his and then with a determined set of her jaw as she grabbed him by the arm and shoved him Rory's direction. "You walk with Rory."

Flabbergasted, he simply stared at her, not knowing what to do. Rory bit her lower lip, struggling to make a decision as Paris hooked her arm to her father's proffered one and stared at her expectantly, as if to say, 'Are you really going to make a scene on my wedding day, Gilmore?'

Without a second thought, silently, Tristan offered his arm and she stepped forward and accepted it, sliding her hand through the crook and letting it rest lightly on his forearm. Looking ahead, they waited a minute before following Madeline and Luke, the best man, down the aisle.

& -

"She looks really happy," Tristan commented as they swayed gently to the music, watching Lorelai and Luke, dancing to their first song as husband and wife. "I've never seen her glow like that."

Rory rested her head on his shoulder, sighing as she did so. "It's the 'finally' glow. The 'finally, my life is exactly the way I want it to be and even better' glow."

"Good to know there's a name for it," he chuckled and buried his face in her hair, a hint of the jasmine tucked behind her ear mixing with the smell of vanilla from her shampoo. "Your dad left early."

She tensed a bit. "I'm surprised he made it at all. It must've been so hard for him to come. Up until a few days ago, he wasn't planning on it. When he showed up, he told me he had to, not because of his sadistic side but because he had to see it to believe it. And I'm so stupid because I thought he came to object, I thought he came to make a scene."

Tristan ran a soothing hand down her back. "That's not stupid. It was entirely possible, given your parents' history."

Rory lifted her head off his shoulder and met his gaze. "He came to let her go. To let her be happy. I never believed he was that strong."

"Yeah, he did good." Tristan kissed her forehead and gave her a charming smile. "Letting a Gilmore girl go cannot be an easy task."

"I wanted to be a hundred percent happy today, nothing was supposed to ruin this day for mom or for me," she said, returning her head to his shoulder, her arms tightening around him. "But before the wedding, when I was with my dad, I was crying because he looked so lost. Do you think it's possible to be so extremely happy, head over heels happy and yet still feel like the bottom of your stomach is going to fall out because you're in so much pain, too?"

If you loved someone more than you ever thought possible, he said to himself as he stared down at her face. He shrugged and inclined his head to the side. "Yeah I think it's entirely possible."

- & -

Luke stood up a little unsteadily, looking entirely too uncomfortable in his tux with a delicate flute of champagne in his hands, clinking a fork against the rim of the glass as he waited for the guests at his nephew's reception to quiet down. When the murmurs halted and everyone turned their attention to him, he shifted a little in his place. "Well, uh, I'm supposed to make the toast. Obviously, as you all probably know, I am not good at it. My step-daughter and maid of honor, Rory, has a way with words so I think I'll hand my job over to her but I just wanted to say congratulations to the happy couple. Jess, I never thought this day would come and welcome to the family, Paris. I wish both of you all the happiness in the world."

Murmurs and light applause broke out as Luke leaned down to kiss Paris and Rory stood up, smiling, as all eyes were on her. Smoothing a hand over the front of her dress, she let her eyes linger over the guests before resting on Tristan, seated almost all the way in the back, watching her intently, his expression completely bland. The nest of sleeping butterflies in her stomach awoke, suddenly, spreading their wings, rising up to clog her throat a little.

She had managed to stay in control, be poised and gracious, during the entire wedding. Even as they walked down the aisle together, her feet unsteady, her face probably belying the calm air she tried to affect, she had managed to make it through without breaking down. His eyes on her now, even with everyone else looking at her, felt like they could see right through her.

Desperately, she quelled the urge to turn and run.

"When I first introduced Paris and Jess, way back in our junior year of high school, never in a million years did I think that I'd be at their wedding one day. They didn't exactly…mesh well together way back when," Rory said with a slight chuckle, fondly remembering their conversation over macaroni and cheese and French fries. "But I look at them now and I know they're both rolling their eyes at me behind my back when I say this," she paused when everyone laughed and looked over at the newlyweds, with a cheeky grin, "but these last few years, as surprising as it is to me, they've been my example. Of friendship, of happiness, of two people who just make it work, no matter what. And at the risk of sounding like something out a really bad movie, they've shown me what it is to love someone, naturally, truly, forever. I love you guys and wish you nothing but the best in life. So if you will all raise your glasses with me: to Paris and Jess."

"To Paris and Jess!"

Glasses clinked together and applause broke out as the newlyweds leaned in for a kiss amid whistles and catcalls. As everyone went back to their conversations, the music picked up again and Rory sat down, surreptitiously letting her eyes rest on Tristan again, who was chatting animatedly with the redhead to his right.

Before she could bore a hole in his head with her stare, her attention was thankfully diverted by Paris, who grabbed her by the elbow. "So how much longer do I have to sit here and smile? My cheeks hurt like hell!"

Rory mock-gasped and then gave her a disapproving stare. "Paris, are you not enjoying your own wedding reception? Where could you possibly rather be?"

"Do not mock me, Gilmore," the bride stated fiercely through gritted teeth. "There's a room at the Ritz-Carlton with Mariano – our name - on it and you arranged it. I want to get out of this damn dress…well, let Jess help me out of this damn dress…"

Rory cut her off with a grimace. "Oh God, stop Paris. I thought you getting hitched would mean that I wouldn't have to think about or catch about you and Jess in a compromising position."

Mrs. Mariano snickered. "Don't count on it."

"You two are insatiable. It's disgusting." Rory glanced across the room to Louise, who caught her gaze and nodded. "Well, you can't leave until you have your first dance as husband and wife."

"Stupid traditions."

"I know," Rory said consolingly, patting her hand. "It's a travesty that I am trying to make this night memorable and romantic for you when all you want to do is have hot and wild sex. Jess? Ask your wife to dance."

Jess paused for a moment, considering; Rory could see he was steeling himself for dancing – slow dancing – in public. Then the soft strands of a familiar song started to play and he offered Paris his hand, giving her a grin. "And so it starts."

& -

Since the moment she had placed herself in front of him, cutting in on the redhead he was dancing with, he wondered what the hell it was she thought she was doing. She was impulsive, he knew, but this was extreme, even for her.

It was awkward.

Tristan never liked being alone or this close to Lorelai at any given time. Bad things usually ensued; they never got along well, not liking each other completely. Not true, a voice reminded him. You two get along just fine when Rory's not between you. Over Lorelai's shoulder, Tristan's lips curled in a wry smile. Ironic, isn't it? It was because of Rory he and Lorelai tried to bury the proverbial hatchet but ultimately, it was always Rory that came between them.

As if sensing his thoughts, Lorelai pulled back slightly and looked at him curiously. "What?"

He lifted his shoulders. "Just wondering what you and I are doing here."

"I think it's called dancing."

His smile was genuine. "I was actually trying to emphasize the 'you and I' part of the sentence."

"Ah," she replied with a half-smile of her own. "I don't know, really."

"Well, you're the one who cut in," he reminded her.

"Okay so maybe I have a little idea," she admitted then focused his gaze on him. "You looked sad."

He shifted uncomfortably, almost stepping on her feet as he tried to avoid her eyes, trained on him, so scrutinizing. "I'm okay."

"Okay," she conceded with a small nod. After a beat, she continued, "I was watching you earlier. When Rory made her toast, you looked sad then too."

"Your daughter is eloquent."

Lorelai raised her eyebrows, her expression dubious. "You know, all the time I spent hating you for making her so miserable, I forgot you were hurting too. I guess it was easier for me, if I didn't remember that."

Tristan was rarely, if ever, embarrassed. Years of conditioning had taught him to rein in emotion during social gatherings and family events. The show, after all, must go on and emotions were too much of a hassle to deal with, an inconvenience. The fact, however, that Lorelai could tell what he was feeling during Rory's toast, shot his training to hell and made him squirm in his spot to avoid her gaze. Still, instinct kicked in. "It was nothing."

She gave him a 'who you kidding?' look. "It's never 'nothing' when it comes to you and Rory. Believe me I have tried to convince myself of it for a long time. Didn't work."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't be a wise-ass."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Lorelai," he admitted as he twirled, more out of the need to move her away from him than to follow the steps of a dance.

He pulled her back and she let her hand curl in his. "And I don't know what I want to hear. From either of you. I've stopped trying to predict an answer or outcome."

For a few moments, they danced in silence, lost in their thoughts, unsure. Tristan watched Rory dance with her father and she glanced at him then, their eyes connecting for an intense moment, neither of them looking away.

"You know," he murmured finally, when Rory was the first to break eye contact, "Probably, in all the time you spent hating me, I hated myself too. But you've always known I have always loved her."

Lorelai's grip on him tightened, instinctively. "Yeah, I did. So maybe that's a start."