Disclaimer: I don't own this characters, all credits go to the creators of the The Vampire Diaries Universe.
Chapter warnings: forced marriage.
Lucille Le Moyne stared at her reflection, her hands trembling as she dabbed concealer under her bloodshot eyes. The remnants of a panic attack clung to her – ragged breaths catching in her throat, a chilling echo of the terror that had sent her scrambling to the bathroom floor moments ago.
Memories of her plea to her father surfaced.
"Daddy please" she begged her father for mercy, "please, there has to be another way, anything but this". Her mother knelt beside her, a silent pillar of support, and held her shaking frame. Her own tears fell into her daughter's crown, dampening her curls .
"There isn't, mon coeur," her father had replied, his voice heavy. "Don't you think I'd have found one by now? This is our last hope, Lucille, our final gamble."
The words cut like a knife. "So that's all I am to you? A gamble?" Each syllable chipped away at the fragile dam holding back her despair. She hadn't started this war, yet the burden of ending it seemed to rest solely on her shoulders.
"Your brother Hugo gave his life for this fight," her father continued, his voice thick with grief. "For our town, for our home that was stolen. It's only fair you do your part." Without another look, Jean-Baptiste turned and ascended the stairs, leaving Lucille shattered in his wake. A choked sob escaped her lips. Down the hall, the faint sounds of her younger siblings scurrying away from the open doorway confirmed they'd been unwilling witnesses to the entire exchange. Shame burned alongside the grief and anger churning within her
A knock on the door pulled her out of her trance. She cleared her throat before calling out.
"Come in". A blonde woman entered the room, closing the door behind her. She was tall, maybe 5'8" or more. It was hard to tell with her heels. Her golden hair was tied in a bun at the base of her neck, two perfectly curled locks framing her round face. A long, baby pink dress clung to her curves. The cross neck covered her cleavage but revealed her beautifully sun-kissed back. The fabric moved gracefully as she walked to stand in front of Lucille, a hint of a kind smile on her face.
"Hello dear, I'm Rebekah Mikaelson". Her voice was sweet and sympathetic. Lucille hated it. "I just wanted to check on you and see if you needed some assistance". You just wanted to make sure I hadn't jump out the window , Lucille thought. It's not like it hadn't crossed her mind, ending it all. But even though she felt betrayed by her own family, her own people, the thought of jeopardizing the lives of her whole community stopped her dead in her tracks. It's not their fault she had a shitty father who, as a leader, had made an amazing deal.
"I uh… Sure" she unzipped the garment bag containing her dress. She took it out and hung it from the mirror
"Beautiful" Rebekah said, and Lucille couldn't tell if it was genuine or another line in a carefully crafted dress itself was stunning – a white tulle bodice that covered her shoulders and dipped modestly to the neckline, long sleeves flowing down to her wrists. From the chest down, a fine white fabric cascaded gracefully to the floor. It was far more conservative than the styles Rebekah usually favored, but undeniably elegant.
She pictured the girl at the bridal shop, choosing the first gown she saw, refusing to trying it on, a symbol of her imprisonment to a man she didn't know or love. A pang of sympathy stabbed at her. Lucille was just another pawn on her brothers' game of power. She knew the role all too well, she had been playing it for over ten centuries.
Rebekah took the dress from the hanger and unbuttoned the back. She knelt carefully with the open dress and waited. Lucille felt a flicker of self-consciousness, exposing herself to this woman she barely knew. Yet, there was a kindness in Rebekah's eyes, and what was the point of stalling the inevitable? She took off the robe and stepped into the dress. Rebekah carefully lifted the fabric, adjusting it around her body before fastening the buttons. Finishing the task, she stepped back and smiled. "You look stunning, Lucille".
"Thank you" Lucille replied, an empty, automatic response to receiving a compliment. It was a beautiful dress. It was everything else that was awful.
"Don't worry", Rebekah continued, taking it upon herself to put her hair up in a bun to uncover the dress' back "Elijah is the best of us" she smiled reassuringly through the mirror and squeezed her shoulders in a surprisingly tender gesture.
It was the first time Lucille was in a room alone with a vampire. In fact, it was the first time she was in front of a vampire at all. She was prepared to be drained, compelled, and God knows what else. She wasn't prepared for tenderness.
Rebekah's words echoed inside her head. So Elijah was the nice one. She held back a snort. Maybe compared to his murderous brother, but that wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement. Still, the unexpected touch of empathy warmed a tiny corner of her heart, a flicker of hope battling against the tide of apprehension.
Lucille took a few more deep breaths and put on her veil. "I'm ready". Ready as I'll ever be, anyway .
Rebekah grabbed a bouquet and handed Lucille her own "if you want someone else walking with you, I understand" she said. She was ashamed to admit to herself that when Elijah had offered her to be the maid of honor, she had been excited. Over a thousand years old and none of her brothers had walked down the aisle. And, much to her sorrow, neither had she.
"I don't have anyone else". Rebekah didn't press further and Lucille felt grateful for that. Two days prior, she had received a letter from Elijah. It was a very formal letter in which he thanked her for her sacrifice, apologized for the circumstances of their meeting and requested her a list of people she wanted at the wedding, assuring her their safe passage to and from the French Quarter. She didn't give him any names. She didn't want them there.
Rebekah walked first. She gracefully strutted down the aisle like an angel. As she approached the end, Lucille lowered her gaze. She wasn't ready to face what, who was waiting at the end.
A string quartet's melody signaled her cue. During the six days she had to picture the wedding, she had envisioned a simple document signing at court, but it seemed her groom had ordered the entire wedding experience. Screw him , she thought. Like this whole theatrical display makes anything better. Like it makes it romantic and real.
Her feet came to a stop, white heels next to expensive black leather shoes. She kept her gaze down, even when she turned right to place a ring on his finger and offered her own left hand.
She admired the pearl-shaped diamond sitting on a rose gold ring. Damn, the man was loaded.
"You may kiss the bride". This was it. She couldn't hide any longer. She held her breath while he gently lifted her veil. She steeled herself, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her as a fragile shy girl sold by her father, even if that's what she was. They locked eyes for just a second before he gave her a chaste peck on the lips. Then it was done. The deal was sealed.
She stared out the window, focusing on anything but the man beside her. They had emerged from the venue, showered by rice and rose petals from cheering crowds. Were they genuine well-wishers or hired extras? Maybe they were compelled to assist.
"If you'd rather skip the reception, it could be arranged," Elijah said. He was staring at her. He'd been staring at her ever since she joined him at the altar.
"It's fine," she replied, not bothering to hide her indifference. "You paid for it, might as well enjoy it." If he wanted the whole wedding circus fine, he would have it. That would be as much compliance from her as he would get.
Elijah remained silent. He felt lost. He'd spent the night before pleading with Klaus to break the deal, but it was a futile effort. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't have backed out anyway. It wasn't in his nature. But he understood the sacrifice this young woman had made, and it gnawed at him. He hated the feeling of being the beast imprisoning a poor maiden like in that old french fairy tale. He wanted her to know he was a gentleman and he would not cross any of her boundaries. He just didn't know how.
"I'm Elijah, by the way," he finally said, extending his hand. "Nice to officially meet you."
She studied his hand for a moment, her mind racing. Finally, she took it. "Lucille," she said simply before letting go.
"I understand these circumstances aren't… ideal," he began. "And you must think I'm a monster." He paused, expecting a rebuttal that never came. "But please believe me, I mean you no harm. I agreed to this deal to save my people and prevent bloodshed. I have no intention of controlling you or turning you into some trophy wife. I just hope, in time, I can earn your trust, maybe even become friends. Make the best out of the cards we were dealt".
He meant every word, desperately hoping she believed him, even though she had no reason to.
She just looked him in the eyes for a few seconds before mouthing "are you going to rape me tonight?".
He almost choked on his own saliva, but managed to maintain his composure. He wondered if he should be offended by the question, but decided he couldn't blame her. She was brave for asking. "Of course not. Like I said, I don't intend to force myself on you in any way. I don't expect you to fulfill the usual... marital duties, so to speak. Anything that happens between us, or doesn't, will be based on our own mutual desire."
She blushed. She expected a yes or no answer, but she was quickly learning he was a man of many wods. The car came to a stop, a welcome interruption to her rising embarrassment. He emerged from the vehicle, closed her door after him, and then walked around to open her side. He offered his hand, and as she took it, a tingling sensation shot through her fingertips.
Together, they entered the reception venue, where guests were already arriving and settling in at their assigned tables.
The reception was a whirlwind of greetings, introductions, and forced smiles. Lucille clung to Elijah, letting him guide her through the crowd. After fifteen minutes or so, he took her by the hand and guided her to the center of the room for their first dance.
She was nervous, so she just held onto him and let him lead the dance.
"I hope this isn't too overwhelming," he murmured. "I wanted it to feel as normal as possible."
She scoffed, trying to soften the blow. "Nothing about this is normal, Mr. Mikaelson."
"Please, call me Elijah. And I'm sorry." He looked at her, a flicker of genuine remorse in his eyes.
"It's okay," she conceded, surprising herself. "I guess this is better than the scenarios playing out in my head this past week."
Elijah didn't ask for specifics, but based on their earlier interaction, he understood. "Had you ever encountered a vampire before?" She shook her head.
Right then, Elijah vowed to demonstrate to her that the tales of her people weren't entirely accurate. He wouldn't be the monster she was taught to fear. He yearned to be a safe harbor in this storm. He noticed her struggle to contain tears and the way she trembled in his arms. A fierce protectiveness surged through Elijah unlike anything he'd ever felt.
"Pardon me, brother" a silky voice interjected "may I have a dance with my new sister?" Elijah's hold faltered, and Lucille found herself staring into the face of the man she'd only known in whispers and nightmares. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Niklaus. Him, she knew of, had heard stories of. The man that was so vicious he had ripped the heads off his own vampires during a coup in the 1850's. Rumors said the man was so cold and cruel he had ripped off his own mother's heart when he was barely a newborn vampire because she had dared question his killer hunger. She looked up at Elijah, silently pleading with him to refuse.
"By all means," Elijah conceded, his voice betraying no emotion. He released her hand, and Klaus effortlessly took his place.
"Hello, love," Klaus drawled, a cocky grin twisting his lips. "I've heard wonderful things about you. I'm Niklaus."
"I'm afraid I can't say the same," Lucille blurted out before she could stop herself. Was she crazy? He could snap her neck with the flick of a wrist.
Instead, Niklaus threw back his head and laughed. "Fair enough. I wanted to properly introduce myself and welcome you to the family. You will find we tend to be a bit… argumentative but don't let it fool you. We love each other fiercely and would kill or die for one another."He held her gaze, and Lucille couldn't tell if it was a statement or a threat. "And that includes you now," he continued. "I know my dear Elijah will bend over backwards to prove his nobility and convince you he's not a monster. But make no mistake, love, I am. And rather proud of it." A predatory glint flickered in his eyes, which Lucille could swear she saw them momentarily turned yellow. "Trust me," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl, "I will care for you and look after you like a sister. But if you dare betray me or my brother, well…" He trailed off, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air.
Lucille opened her mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. Klaus gave a knowing nod, then twirled her into the arms of a man with a cheeky grin.
"Nice to meet you darling, I'm Kol".
Lucille took a seat at the head table, watching the dancers with a hollow ache settling in her chest. They might have been celebrating a wedding, but it felt like a funeral for her old life
Her feet were killing her and she had been nervously drinking champagne all day just to have something to do with her hands, only now realizing she was working on an empty stomach. To make things worse, she really needed to use the restroom and Rebekah was nowhere to be found. Asking Elijah to hold her dress was out of the question.
Speaking of the devil… No, wait. That was his brother. Speaking of Elijah, she saw him making his way to her through the crowd. He'd shed his suit jacket, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Are you alright, darling?" he asked, concern creasing his brow as he noticed her bare feet and weary eyes.
"Just tired," she managed. "Is this going on much longer?"
He glanced at his watch. "We could head back to the Royale if you'd like, let the guests enjoy the last 're probably too inebriated to notice our absence". He offered a kind smile and leaned down to retrieve her shoes. "Would you like to put them on, or shall I carry them?"
Rising on her bare feet, she decided, "Barefoot it is, thanks."
He nodded, offering his arm. With a grateful sigh, she took it, and he guided them through the throng. Reaching the door, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. Moments later, their car pulled up. He ushered her inside, opening both the building door and the car door for her with practiced courtesy.
It was a short ride back to the Palace Royale. "I didn't realize we'd be staying at the hotel" she said
"I thought it best," he replied reassuringly. "I'll explain everything in the morning." She didn't press further.
He walked her to the same room she'd occupied the night before, where just hours ago, his sister had helped her become a reluctant bride. "Good night, Lucille," he said, pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek before heading towards the elevator.
Alone in the room, Lucille stood at the door for a long moment, replaying the entire evening. There would be no shared bed tonight. Relief washed over her, a tension she hadn't realized she was holding. But a new concern gnawed at her – how on earth was she supposed to get out of this monstrosity of a wedding dress?