A Vampire's Aurora

An Angel at The Altar

An Angel at The Altar

(Soooo remember the malicious Aldrick Fabien? He's baaaacccckk and he's a bit paler if you know what I mean)

The familiar ridge where Aurora had taken her very first photo of Forks and its glorious sunrise set the stage for Carlisle and Aurora's wedding. When Aurora tried to reason with Alice, that there was no way any kind of ceremony could be held in such a small and cramped area, not to mention the fact that her haute couture dress would be caked with mud – it took the Cullen clan all of five minutes to solve all of Aurora's misgivings. Emmett easily carried thousand-pound boulders and decades-old tree trunks from the area, making room for the hand-carved cedar benches for guests that Jasper had ordered from a local carpenter who also gifted the couple a marriage chest – which was meant to place the newlyweds most precious items. Alice procured enough rose petals to weave a floral carpet that would cover the entire space.

"It's perfect!" Alice cried. "I mean – this is where it all started – if you hadn't gone that day to take that photo in that spot, you wouldn't have fallen on your face and had to go get patched up by Carlisle!"

Aurora shook her head.

"Correction – I didn't fall on my face because of the sunrise," Aurora countered. "Jasper spooked the stag and that's why I fell. And it's not like I did a faceplant into the mud you know."

"Aurora you're not focusing! Can't you see – this is fate – this is where your wedding will be!" Alice said with determination.

/

She put one foot in front of the other, trying to remember what Alice had told her about walking in the stilettos on dirt. Her dress and her veil trailed behind her, softly moving over the ground and the petals. Robert slowly walked his daughter towards her future.

Aurora's hands tightly clasped her father's arm, her palms sweaty and clammy as they wrapped around his forearm. Her other hand was wrapped around the bouquet of lilies of the valley. Aurora felt with each step and each heartbeat closer to her destiny.

Her face was half-hidden by the veil, while soft curls fell around her cheeks, but Carlisle could still see her eyes. He inhaled slowly. That scent of hers, always changing, and yet always making his mouth water. As she walked towards him, he was reminded just how exquisite Aurora's eyes had looked that fateful afternoon in the emergency room, the way her eyes glittered, as if he were staring into two emeralds, the way her long lashes fluttered, the way soft dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled that alluring smile. It was as if he were reliving that moment every day since he met her, as if each time he looked at her, it was the first time. As Aurora approached, Carlisle could just barely make out the ghostly outline of the feather tips of her wings. When he blinked, they were gone, and yet somehow, he knows they were always there, and they would always be there. Aurora's father stopped as he reached the altar. The Cascades of white roses and lilacs that were woven into a rustic arch framed the groom and bride, while at their feet, tea-colored rose petals covered the ground. Robert turned to his daughter, taking both her hands in his.

"Aurora, my lamb, my little girl," he whispered, his mustache quivering in joy, tears squeezing at the sides of his eyes. "You will always be our girl, our little angel. And I know this man right here, he is truly meant for you."

Robert smiled at Carlisle, as Carlisle took the man's hand, shaking it firmly. Robert led Aurora up the steps to the raised altar, allowing her hand to pass into Carlisle's, passing his only daughter to her future husband. Carlisle squeezed Aurora's hand as they both faced the minister. Carlisle, leaned to the side, lowering his head to Aurora's ear.