Yes, I'll admit that this is my first Gilmore Girls fanfiction on this website, but I have written several stories for a different fandom :)
I'll consider this as a celebration for the fact that I now own all of the seasons of Gilmore Girls on DVD! I've always loved Gilmore Girls, especially Luke & Lorelai, but this little idea wouldn't quit bothering me so I just had to post it!
This is all pre-series, just some key events in Emily and Richard's life leading up to their wedding.
Reviews to me are like coffee to Lorelai!
Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the quotes I've added in this story, or several of the events mentioned in the fic. They are taken directly from the show.
"I did not steal your grandfather, I simply gave him a choice."
"When you showed up at my fraternity party in that blue dress, I had no choice."
~Emily and Richard Gilmore, Season 3, Let the Games Begin
"I don't understand why you dragged me to this fraternity party, Emily! We don't even go to Yale," my friend Melanie complained as I scanned the room.
"Oh Sweetie, live a little! Besides, you might as well go to Yale, your boyfriend goes here and you know everyone here," I pointed out. She shrugged in agreement.
I kept looking around the room, tapping the brim of my cup with my finger. That's when I noticed him from across the room by the fireplace speaking to a group of friends.
"Who's that?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. My friend looked across the room and noticed him before grinning.
"Surely you've heard of him!" she said. I scoffed and looked back to her.
"Like you said, I do not go to this school!"
"Oh right, well he's a friend of Scott's," she nodded. "You wouldn't believe what he and his friends did sophomore year, it was rather scandalous," she said in a low voice, smiling.
"Well out with it!" I prodded her.
She looked behind her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Well Scott tells me that to protest the dress code he and his friends wore nothing but silk ties for an entire month!"
I gasped and leaned back, my eyes wide.
"Why Melanie, you're a gossip!" I chided. She giggled and nodded.
"It's true! Cross my heart," she said, drawing an 'x' over her heart.
I scoffed. "What a foolish thing to do," I said, rolling my eyes. I looked back to the man named Richard Gilmore.
"What a daring thing to do," I mused, taking a sip from my cup.
"Emily Abbott! I know that look in your eye!"
"What? I don't see the harm in simply noticing that a man is attractive!" I pointed out.
"That's one thing but pursuing him is another story! He happens to be in a very steady relationship with Pennilyn Lott!"
I grimaced. "Linny Lott?"
I knew all about her. She came over to Smith several times to visit friends. I had never been very fond of her, though everyone seemed to dote on her.
"What would a boy like him be dating a mouse like Linny Lott for? She's so…Pennilyn Lott," I grimaced again.
"What is your vendetta against Pennilyn? Emily, she's a nice girl! They're very happy together from what I hear!"
I chuckled at my naïve friend. "We'll see about that, won't we?"
Melanie's eyes widened. "Emily, if you're about to go approach him-"
"Well I'm not thinking straight, I'm tipsy aren't I?" I laughed, beginning to walk away.
"BUT HE'S ENGAGED!" she called after me. I turned around and gave her a withering stare.
"I'm not going to steal him, Sweetie, I'm simply going to give Richard Gilmore a choice," I said confidently.
It was then when I began to approach him boldly, smoothing out my blue dress. Richard had his back turned but his group of friends whistled at me when I came up to them, only boosting my confidence. What a catch I am.
I tapped him on his broad shoulder and he turned, immediately raising his eyebrows at the sight of me.
"Excuse me sir, but I couldn't help but notice that you couldn't possibly be enjoying your fraternity party," I flirted.
Richard looked behind his shoulder and raised his eyebrow, seemingly conflicted.
"And why is that?" he asked.
I grinned. "Because you aren't dancing with me."
A few of his friends laughed in approval, one slapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey Rich, you don't mind if I date Linny now, right?" he joked.
I put my hand out for him to take.
"Emily," I introduced myself. I hadn't noticed from a distance, but I then noticed that Richard Gilmore had the most amazing eyes. I had no idea what I was getting into.
He took my hand and kissed it. "Richard."
"There was a bench here! This is where your father proposed!"
"Right next to the trash can?"
~Emily and Lorelai Gilmore, Season 3, Let the Games Begin
"Emily! Emily would you not walk so fast!" Richard complained, following me down a cobblestone path at Yale. I was several steps ahead of him, arms crossed.
"Can't stop, I have to meet my friends and get back to school," I snapped back.
"I don't see why you're getting so worked up about this! I'll make it up to you!" Richard complained.
"What are you going to do? Take me to another art museum like all the other girls? Well Richard I don't care how many times you stare at those painting with a thoughtful look on your face, I just see random splatters of color!"
"I thought you liked it when I took you to the art museum!" he protested.
"If I'm not mistaken, you also took Jodie, Angela, Marie, and let's not forget Pennilyn Lott to that blasted art museum before you even knew me!"
"What does that have to do with anything? I'm dating you now."
"And how much does that mean to you? You were pretty quick to walk out on Pennilyn!"
"That's because you showed up at my fraternity party and decided you simply had to have me—what is this really about!"
"Why won't you spend the holidays with me! How difficult is it to commit to plans? What are you going to do, ski with your insolent Whiffenpoof buddies? Cozy up to the fireplace with some slu-"
"Well I'm angry with you, Richard! I was so looking forward to spending the holidays with my boyfriend! But of course you can't commit to plans so how can I expect you to commit to a relationship you…spineless jellyfish!" I ranted.
"Impossible woman!" Richard growled, suddenly grabbing my arm and stopped me near a bench.
I crossed my arms and glared at him.
I saw him reach into his pocket and my heart stopped beating as I saw him pull out a little black box. He held it out to me.
"Here," he said angrily.
I somehow managed to keep a straight face as I quickly threw open the lid to the velvet box. I held my breath at the sight of the simple golden band with a square diamond adorned to it. It was stunning. Richard was proposing…he was proposing…
Is that why he let me believe he wasn't going to spend the holidays with me? He gave me no indication whatsoever that this what he was planning! That rat!
Before I knew it I was slamming the box closed and looking up at him with pursed lips.
"Fine," I said curtly.
"But the thing I remember most was that for the entire week before my wedding, I'd wait 'til my mother went to sleep, and I'd sneak out of bed and I'd put on my wedding dress and my tiara and my gloves. And I would stare at myself in the mirror and I would think…how very safe I felt. How very right and wise and honored."
~Emily Gimore, Season 2, Red Light on the Wedding Night
"Emily, eat your salad," my mother scolded. I snapped out of my reverie and looked down at my plate. I pushed it a little further away.
"No thank you, I haven't much of an appetite," I said politely.
"Emily, your wedding is less than a week away! If you keep fasting that dress is going to be too loose."
I looked up at my mother and at the mention of the impending ceremony my stomach erupted into butterflies once more.
"Excuse me," I excused myself from the table. My stomach was not my friend and I couldn't eat a bite. In fact, I haven't been able to eat for the entire week. My stomach was constantly twisting and turning.
I whisked myself down the hallways of my soon to be former home, running my hand along the curtains dreamily. My knees felt like butter, ready to give out at any moment.
The invitations were sent out, unfortunately not lined with actual pearls as my 21st birthday invitations had been, the flowers were selected, orchids of course. The seating chart was all arranged and everything was going perfectly as planned. My dream wedding with Richard was only a few days away, and I couldn't be more nervous.
Richard…what was he doing that that very moment? Was he thinking about me? Did he miss me? Was he having trouble breathing like I was?
No…Richard was most likely at the club, chatting up with some friends on the golf course. I imagined that I was at the club as well, passing by as he was about to hit the ball. He would notice me, his bride to be, and our eyes would lock unexpectedly. At the last possible second he would swing the club and miss the ball completely, but he wouldn't mind.
That night as I lay in bed, thinking of Richard, as the butterflies swarmed relentlessly. I listened carefully to the room next to mine, trying to hear if my mother was still awake. When no sounds came from her room, I snuck out of bed and to my closet.
I opened the double doors and smiled at the sight of the large white gown that was inside. Sneakily, I snatched the dress and carefully changed into the heavy gown, careful not to make a sound.
I slid on my long white gloves with care and held the delicate tiara in my gloved hands, looking down upon it. My knees were still trembling, and I began to worry again.
Perhaps this is all a mistake; I did force myself on him that night at the party. This shouldn't be me walking down the aisle, it should really be Pennilyn. Maybe my dress has too much lace! What if it has too much lace?
Nonsense, Emily, there's no such thing, I reminded myself.
I took a deep breath and slowly turned to face the mirror. I nearly gasped at the sight looking back at me. A true bride. I carefully situated the tiara on my head and smoothed out the elegant gown. The bride in the mirror was smiling back at me and I realized how very silly I was being.
Seeing myself in the mirror in all my bridal glory put my mind at ease. I loved Richard. I was in love with Richard. Nothing was going to go wrong.
I realized how safe I felt, I felt safe and beautiful and humble. This was right…Richard was right.
"Mrs. Emily Gilmore," I whispered to myself.
"Mrs. Emily Gilmore."