A woman played with the edge of her gown, it was a light teal color, the pastel paired with her skin tone appeared to make her glow under the dimly lit candles. The girl bit her lip and shuffled in her white-heeled shoes, the lace fabric of the dress and the heavily applied makeup caused her to nearly walk away from the usually elated event. For whatever reason she only felt somber, her dark (e/c) eyes lacked that light that almost always seemed to engulf all of those around her. She had that ability to sip up the atmosphere in a room and catch those around her in a web of fantasy like a black widow. 

But for once no one seemed to pay mind to the eighteen year old as she stood alone besides a clothe covered table, the classical music danced around her almost as if muting the rambunctious laughter and light conversations, hardy laughs from her grandfather, a look of utter shock from her aunt, her best friend flirting with the guests galore. None seemed to partake in her, which was strange but much appreciated, well; at such an event was strange, very strange. 

(F/n) (l/n) stood on the opposite side of two large red doors, her glove covered hand trembling as she held onto the oak door, she bit he lip rather harshly, the puce lipstick staining a few of her teeth. She didn’t care either way, they didn’t deserve to see her at her best—better yet she needed to be at her worst. “(f/n)?” The girl turned around in surprise, her frown now covered by a shinning smile, one that was mirrored by her younger brother, his glassy (e/c) eyes softening at her as he fixed his suit. He held out his hand and waited for her to take it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to cry, that’s my job.” The female simply shook her head, her tresses covering parts of her face.

“Of course not.” That was a lie, a terrible, terrible lie. But what would she say to an elven year old? What would he do? The girl simply ignored the burning sensation in her eyes and took his hand, a partial nostalgia befalling her as the music suddenly changed tempo, the live pianist slowing down to a steady beat. 

“Watch your step I think they over did it on the flowers.” Her brother laughed his annoying laugh, one she’d no doubt miss hearing every single day.  “Aw come on that was funny, right?” She nodded and the large red doors opened more, two well dressed men making haste. 

The first thing that took (f/n)’s attention was how dimly lit the room was, it was nice but odd, candles were scattered everywhere and the warm scent of vanilla wafted her nose. Then came the sound of her mothers most appalling feature, her lack of emotional support, a harsh tch. The older woman’s glance spoke volumes, she hated the dress, it wasn’t the color she’d expected which was enough to put off her day. But, such a dull color would never fit her, no; she needed something that equally matched her flamboyant character. Her hair wasn’t neatly pulled away into a bun like she had complained she’d wanted to seen an hour early having been pulled out by the girl, her makeup was done herself which was below standard. Her mother was no doubt slandering her in he mind. ‘Good riddance,’ she’d think. The girl looked away having not an ounce left of fight in her being. Her mother had won.

As the two causally strolled to the front of the room a man came into sight, the girl simply stared at him, his back to her as he spoke with an elder man finely dressed in black and white robes. (f/n) felt a sudden drop in her stomach as her brother let go of her hand, she stood right across from a man she’d never seen before, his fiery copper hair catching her attention before he turned her way. His smile was offsetting not a hint of malice was behind it, he seemed beyond pleased with her appearance, unreal emerald eyes seemed to completely soften as his jaw slacked in admiration. The man whom she didn’t know hadn’t said a thing yet but his look said it all. 

He was happy to see her.

It was counteracted against her own, as if pushing against a current and winning. She tried her best to hold her frown but it only pleasantly shifted into a small almost true smile, his amused eyes egging her on.  

The greying older man spoke warmly, excited undertones hidden beneath his serious expression, they all waited patiently for no mans land to speak from his grey lips. “Any objections?” (f/n) tried her best to not put her hopes up, she tried but as no one said a word not even a cough or a sigh the man continued with the sermon. “Then if no one objects, do you (f/n)(l/n) take this man to be your husband?” She didn’t even know this mans name, how could she be expected to—

“I do.” She pressed out sweetly completely ignoring the raging cries of anger letting out a revolting ‘no! no! Dear (deity) no!’ Her smile softening, she was such an amazing actress. 

“And do you, Allistor Kirkland take this woman to be your bride.” The boy spoke an accented yes, one that caught the girl by surprise, he hadn’t even taken a moment to respond, it was immediate as if he had no doubts in the world. How odd, the female thought, not once had they met yet here they were getting married. How peculiar. 

“Kirkland?” She was a Kirkland now..? It faintly danced across her lips, no one taking heed to her voice. She’d heard it somewhere before, but where?

“Please, kiss your bride.” She looked over to the tall Allistor as he lurched forwards, suddenly pulling her towards him. She wanted to argue, to say something but she was awe struck by his appearance, closer up he’d stolen her breath away. She couldn’t deny it he was a handsome young man. Promptly his lips were upon her own, it wasn’t a rough but it wasn’t soft, almost hungry in a sense. (f/n) hadn’t the guts to kiss back so only stared at his tightly shut eyes, she could sense it now, he was just as nerves as she, his hands coated in a thin layer of sweat, so she wasn’t alone. 

She pondered to herself, ‘had he been told a month ago as well?’

They pulled away from one another after the short but chaste kiss, the crowd now cheering, her side of the chapel clapping respectfully while his side roaring with excitement and pure buoyant delight, her mask cracking slightly as she watched surprised having never seen such a thing. “I now present Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland.” This annoyed her. (f/n) Couldn’t help but ponder in these last few moments of blissful ignorance that maybe, just maybe, he’d take good care of her.