The Wedding Nightmare [Marcus & Hathor]

Guest

The day Hathor had been avoiding for almost her whole life had come, and she was not excited. She didn't want to get married, not yet, and especially, not like that. She wanted to meet someone, a Pureblood man with whom she'd fall in love with, eventually, and get married. Have a family. That is what Hathor always wanted. A man who would treat her with love and respect and with whom she would be able to have a lovely family together. That would make her happy.

But this was a fairytale, when you were born as Hathor Valois. Or as any other Pureblood girl. You had no choice, you couldn't control your life. You were raised as a seductress, with only one purpose. To be sold out to a man, and all that for business. It wouldn't matter whether you loved him or not. You could hate each other and it would still make no difference to them. Business was going to be done, and her personal preferences wouldn't bother them.

Sometimes, you were lucky, and you got married to the person you loved, since your family accepted that. But for Hathor, this was not the case. Today was the day she was going to marry Marcus Westbrook. The wealthiest man in England. The biggest asshole there ever was, or will be. And she had no other choice. She couldn't run. She couldn't say no to this. And it was killing her. She didn't want to be married to this man. How could she live the rest of her life with a man that didn't want her?

"You look... exquisite, my lovely."
Hathor turned to look at Frederic who was leaning against the door frame, a small smile on his lips. Hathor pushed herself off the chair, gathering her wedding dress and walking over to him with a pleasing look. "I don't want this, Frederic. I can't. Don't make me marry someone like him."

Frederic looked weirdly at her but then waved her words away a moment later.
"Nonsense, Hathor! This is the best match for you. You will have an amazing life, and think that you did what is best for the family. D'accord?"
Hathor felt the betrayal even from her own brother, but even if it hurt her, she didn't show any sign of it. Instead, she turned away from him and back to her seat.
"Go."
Frederic nodded in response but spoke up before he left. "Father is waiting downstairs. Don't make them wait more. We have a wedding to get to."

And then he was gone, leaving Hathor alone, to cry the last tears she was ever going to cry. Because from that day, there would be no more feelings for her to show.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trip to the old church that was placed in England was long, and tormenting. The ceremony was close and closer and Hathor felt as if she was dying. As if they were all leading her to her eternal grave. And to her, even though it was a marriage, this seemed like a grave. And she couldn't get away from it.

Stopping just outside of the old Church, Francis, her father, turned to look at her with a proud smile. Her mother was next to her, kissing her cheek and murmuring her own words of approval. All Hathor could hear was how beautiful and lucky she was to be marrying into such family. And with such a charming young man.
If only I could cut off his balls and make him eat them , the witch thought and a small smirk touched her lips, but her small dream bubble was popped when she heard the music starting to play.

It was time.

But she didn't want to.

Taking her father's offered arm, Hathor started walking down the isle, avoiding the eyes of everyone. Her eyes would only be focused on one person. Marcus. And he would be able to see the obvious disgust she was feeling about this marriage. He would regret every moment with her, she would make sure of that.

Soon, she was stopped right in front of him, her head held high but no sign of happiness there.
The wedding was about to start, and her life was about to end.

Guest

The wedding had been approved by Marcus only a few hours after Hathor had left their house. Quintin had stood beside him in silent awe as he'd told his father that Hathor was the one he wanted, and that they were to accept the dowry her parents had offered and set the ball rolling for the wedding. The sooner they were wed, the sooner Marcus could be done with the nagging.

Only after their father had left had Quintin rounded on Marcus. "You don't even like her, Marc!" Quintin had insisted, obviously believing his older brother to have gone mad with the decision he'd just made.

"That is the beauty of our lives, brother." Marcus had replied calmly.

"But, you're not the woman here, Marcus, you have the choice of who to pick. Why her?" Quintin had insisted, his youth betraying him in that moment.

"If nothing else, Quintin, she'll bring connections, and power. She's old enough to bare children, and, she is at least okay on the eye-"

"Okay? Have you seen her?"

"She is okay, Quintin, she has too much dependence on her looks, though, and unfortunately that shaves her of the beauty she could easily be capable of. She's fiery, nowhere near perfect, but, she will be an asset. Even if I don't like her, as you keep telling me." Marcus responded, amused. "Until then, little brother, I have a number of young women to call in to check up on. If you follow." He concluded with a knowing smile, turning on the spot and apparating away from the house.

Loose ends had to be tied up before the wedding, so it meant a last evening with a small number of women, with the promise of a purse for their silence in front of his new wife. A promise of this being their last rendezvous, and then Marcus had left... with a somewhat less tense demeanour.

With the loose ends tied up with a week to go before the wedding, Marcus had checked in with the progress being made, making sure that, if nothing else, the scenery would be perfect for the photographs. He knew Hathor didn't want this, he didn't particularly want her for anything more than a quiet life, though he doubted he would be so lucky to get that from his new wife. But, his parents would stop badgering them, at least.

***

The day of the wedding had arrived, and Quintin and he had been getting ready together that morning, champagne was flowing, and his little sister was home to enjoy the celebrations. Marcus had dressed for the wedding and sat at the foot of his bed sipping the champagne, listening to Joanna express her excitement for meeting Hathor. Quintin was trying to explain how Hathor looked, but Marcus paid little and less mind to them.

Only when their father came to announce it was time to go did Marcus show he was listening at all, and as he moved across the room, he gave Joanna a small smile. "You'll still be the most beautiful woman the Westbrook's have to offer, don't worry." Marcus told her with a light laugh, following his father down to the cars.

"You have the rings?" His father asked, and Marcus gave a small nod.

"Quintin is safe guarding them." He replied as they ducked in to the car.

"Nervous?"

"Course not." Marcus replied calmly as they pulled away. "I'll finally be getting peace and quiet, until mother remembers she wants grandchildren. But, I'll see to that."

The rest of the journey was quiet, and when Marcus stepped out of the car at the church, he greeted those already there from his family before making his way to the front of the church. The wait wasn't too long, and as the music started, Marcus cast his eyes to the front. It was, apparently, bad luck to watch your wife walk the aisle, so Marcus' eyes remained forward, until Hathor stood at his side, and the priest started on with his jargon on why they were here today.

Hathor did, Marcus conceded, look quite beautiful in the dress she had chosen, but he doubted his opinion was wanted on such a manner. He didn't have to know Hathor well to know this was not an arrangement that suited her. Not that that mattered, she would get over it, learn to live with it, accept this marriage for what it was worth.

"If there is anyone here present that knows of any lawful reason why these two should not be wed, please make it known, or forever hold your silence..." The priest cut through the thoughts Marcus was having, and Marcus looked down the church to see if there was anyone about to stir. A moment passed... nothing.

"Very well... Do you have the rings?" The priest asked Marcus, but Quintin moved forwards, handing them to the man who then passed Hathor's ring to Marcus. "Please repeat after me..."

"I, Marcus Ethan Westbrook, take you, Hathor Diane to be my wife,
to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow." Marcus repeated after the priest, sliding the ring on to Hathor's finger. No smile touched his lips as he repeated them, nor did Marcus smile as the ring moved in to place perfectly.

He simply waited for the priest to move on to her vow.

Guest

She was standing next to him, eyes staring straight forward, same as his. Both wanted to get over with this as fast as possible so that they could go on being a 'married couple'. Meaning that they would sleep in separate rooms, until they were forced to produce an heir for the Westbrook family. Hathor didn't want to just bear children for Marcus. Or for any man. She had dreams of having a family, and being happy with a loving family. But her life was taking a twisted turn of events, and she was still not ready to accept it. How could she? How could anyone accept such a thing?

"If there is anyone here present that knows of any lawful reason why these two should not be wed, please make it known, or forever hold your silence..."

Only those words were able to get her attention, and for a moment Hathor felt like a little girl. A little girl that wanted to move as far away from Marcus as she could and scream that she was the one who didn't want to be with him. And a very lawful reason was that she didn't love him. That she hadn't chosen him, or his family, or this marriage. That she was simply forced to face all these just because her father wanted more money and more power.

And even though the words were ready to escape her lips, Hathor took a deep breath, closing her eyes and bowing her head in defeat. No one was going to stop this marriage, and even if someone did want this marriage to be interrupted, he, or more like she was silenced with a very good price, Hathor was sure of that.

Then, it was time for the vows and the exchange of rings. Hathor turned towards Marcus as he did the same, sliding the ring on her finger, but no smile touched his features. No expression. Just... Marcus. How could they pass as a married couple when they couldn't even smile at each other? But she couldn't really blame him, since she was not going to smile either. She didn't want to, and she couldn't.

Once he was done, it was Hathor's turn to speak, and after swallowing a small lump that was forming in the throat, she finally spoke.

"I, Hathor Diane Valois, take you, Marcus Ethan to be my husband,
to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow."

Sliding his ring on his finger, Hathor looked away as the ceremony was coming to an end. In less that three minutes, they would be officially married, and all she wanted to do was cry.

Guest

Many couples might have chosen their own vows, had they loved each other, known one another enough to understand the words the other longed to hear. But, Marcus and Hathor were not that kind of couple. They were marrying out of duty, they were strangers to one another, and Marcus had not the first idea of what Hathor might want to hear him say. Well, Marcus thought to himself, she probably didn't wish for him to say anything to her, the first obstacle in their marriage.

The priest went on about the ideas of marriage, and what this union meant (crap, was all the priest was spouting, lies that Marcus doubted would ever come true) but he wasn't listening closely enough to really know what was going on. Only five words Marcus was listening for - not because he wanted to hear them, but because that would be his cue to do the next part of the ceremony.

"You may kiss the bride."

Marcus had been too interested in watching Hathor's features through the service - not lovingly, but trying to work out what she was thinking - that he had missed the priest announcing them as husband and wife, and he'd just caught his cue in time. Moving slightly closer to Hathor, Marcus' hand came up to her cheek, cupping it for theatrical effect, and pressing a very light, chaste kiss to her lips to seal this whole farce in to being something real for the both of them.

A small, polite applause filled the church, and Marcus pulled away, giving his, now, wife a smile that showed his amusement was only just starting. "Wife." Marcus said, offering her his arm so they could walk down the aisle together in the show that always occurred at a wedding.

Now, they simply had to endure a small party back at the Westbrook estate, and then they would be off on their honeymoon. Marcus simply couldn't wait, and the sarcasm in his head only made him smile more - as if pleased with this marriage, even though it was only amusement at his own thoughts, and nothing to do with the witch beside him.

Guest

Hathor was certainly not looking forward to this marriage. Exchanging vows was something Hathor had to do just to get this over with, but it still saddened her that she was not standing beside a man she loved. That she didn't exchange vows of love and affection. Promises to be there for each other, to love and care and protect. To have a family and make each other happy until death does them apart.

No, Hathor was not making any promises. She was simply repeating words of no importance, in order to make this marriage valid, and make her family proud. She was being sold. That was the cause of her life. To be sold off to a Pureblood man, all for business.

"You may kiss the bride."

Lost in her thoughts, Hathor had almost missed those words being spoken. But her eyes widened as she heard them, turning to look at Marcus and swallowing a lump that was forming in her throat. She knew this was coming, and it wasn't the kiss she was scared of. After all, she had kissed him first at that time in the Gardens. It was what that kiss symbolized.

The validation of her marriage to Marcus.

As he cupped her cheek, Hathor had to fight back the disgust that wanted to be shown on her face, and instead, faked a small smile. Marcus' lips touched hers for a very short time, and then he had pulled back, just as the crowd burst into a small applause. Hathor tried to figure out what Marcus was thinking, but the smile that touched his features a moment later, made Hathor worried.

Marcus wasn't smiling because he was happy. He was up to something, and it was going to be bad.

"Wife."

Taking his offered arm, Hathor didn't call him a husband. She just walked down the aisle with him, smiling at the people around her politely. She then turned her attention ahead, not wanting to deal with any of them anymore. The smile faded just as soon as her face was out of view, and a cold look replaced it.

But she knew the torment was not yet over. She still had to endure a gathering back at his estate. Back at their estate.

Guest

As they walked the aisle, Marcus caught his brother's eye and the amusement he felt was mirrored on Quintin's features in that moment. The brothers were alike in many ways, and they both had the same kind of humour. Amusement in other's feelings. Marcus would not pretend to know Hathor's feelings in that moment, but he had noted a couple of the looks, and he knew he wasn't happy.

It didn't bother him that she wasn't happy, either, because that was the fun to him.

Leaving the church, Marcus opened the car door for Hathor, magical as they might be, the Westbrooks used Muggle technology in some cases. Waiting for the witch to duck inside, Marcus closed the door behind her and moved around to the other side and slipped in to the car beside her. The driver knew not to speak to them, and once Marcus had waved him on, the car pulled away.

"Mother has had a room set up for you, should you wish to use it tonight." Marcus told Hathor after a short pause, not looking to her, but out of the front window instead. "It would be customary for you to come to my rooms first, of course, but, should you wish, there are rooms for you to move to." He explained, making sure it was clear that he expected her to come to his rooms first, even if she did not stay.

"We leave for the Alps tomorrow." Marcus added, doubting he would need to spell out that their honeymoon would be in that destination. Again, Marcus fell silent, the journey was only short back to the estate, and once they had arrived, the driver helped Hathor from the car as Marcus saw to himself. Red carpets adorned the floor, and Marcus moved around to Hathor, taking her hand and showing her up the stairs, through to the reception hall where they were handed a flute of champagne each.

"Until such time, I suggest you enjoy yourself." Marcus finished, letting go of her hand and moving towards the top table to his seat.

Guest

She was glad they were out of there. Out of this church, away from all the people, and she could now, finally, allow herself to be dark and gloomy. She wasn't happy, but she would have to pretend to be for the rest of the day, since there was no particular way she could avoid this lovely gathering the Westbrooks had set up for them. She was married to Marcus, not a minute ago, and she already wanted a divorce. Immediately.

"Mother has had a room set up for you, should you wish to use it tonight."

Turning to look at him for the first time after they left the church, Hathor felt disgusted. She hated him, she was sure. And she hated him with a passion that matched his amusement. Cause Marcus was obviously very amused with her displeasure. And even if she were a lady, she wouldn't mind to deliver a punch straight to his face, if needed be.

"Good."
Then she was back to staring out the window, and away from him. If she could have taken another ride, she would, without a second thought. But customs were customs and she was brought up to follow them. This was her 'dream day'. How... unfortunate.

"It would be customary for you to come to my rooms first, of course, but, should you wish, there are rooms for you to move to."

Hathor clenched her hands into fists but didn't dare to look at him. Taking a couple of breaths, she made sure not to allow him to push her over the edge, not today. Sadly, she knew that visiting his rooms was going to be mandatory, so instead of arguing about it, she closed her eyes and nodded, more to herself than him.
She would endure this for today. And then she would be off to her rooms and never touching him again.

"You don't have to worry about that."

"We leave for the Alps tomorrow."

Alps? Alps meant cold, and Hathor had to fight the smile that was threatening to touch her lips. She didn't care if he knew she loved the cold, but since they were going to Alps for their honeymoon, she was going to be happy for a little while. Away from him and enjoying the snow.

Soon they were back at the Westbrook estate, where they were each handed a glass of champagne that Hathor almost downed in one gulp, before Marcus spoke up again. Was he ever going to shut up?

"Until such time, I suggest you enjoy yourself."

"Then do me the favor, and stay away from me." And with that, Hathor watched Marcus move to his seat at the table, while she decided to walk around. She was not going to sit with him any longer.

» Aiding the Recovery (Hathor & Marcus)
» History Repeats Itself [Hathor & Marcus]
» A Respectful Request (Hathor & Marcus)
» Silence is a Powerful Scream [Marcus & Hathor][Mature Content - Vulgar/Violent Themes]
» Sweet Dream or a Beautiful Nightmare? (Jazalea)