When I Say I Do [Alaric x Ali]

Ali fixed her sunglasses and tilted her head as the late autumn sun hit her skin, warming it even as all around her the landscape was turning red and gold, embracing the change of season. Winter was coming and as the last competitions of the season came to an end, she was glad that she had opted to give her mares a break. That did not stop her from coming to watch the Whittemore riders and, as luck would have it, her fiance. Ali had never been a fan of dressage - she appreciated and respected the dedication, precision and perfection of the sport but she could not bring herself to ever commit to it. As she sat in the stands, watching the large sand rings below, her hazel-green eyes fell upon Charlie, currently quickly wiping away foam from the mouth of Alaric's mare.



That had surprised Ali when she first came home and witnessed the younger girl running around packing the show trunk of her future husband. The scene made her blink a few times and crave a stiff drink. Her hand had reached for her phone to quick dial Emil just to take her mind off of it. She never did - Charlie had grinned and mentioned the need to finance her shows especially as she went up the levels. Ali pursed her lips but nodded, promising that the second she became Mrs. Montgomery, she would finance her cousin's career. What would be the point of a materialistic marriage if she couldn't help those who mattered to her? She would have asked her father but seeing as she herself was on thin ice and in huge debt, she didn't want to drag Charlie down with her.



And speaking on debt, it was yet another reason she was here today, watching dressage with a practiced smile of interest when she craved to watch the jumpers. Her parents have made it clear that a wedding date was to be set as soon as possible and they were done accepting her excuses. Which meant that she was here to support her fiance and make a show of it, giving Alaric a small wave with her fingers as he rode by, getting ready to start his test. At least he was not in the same ring as Emil, she thought, her lips dipping into a small frown. Since the night she had seen him, she couldn’t quite figure out how to feel about him or what had seemed to natural. Just a few drinks and a dance and they had slipped back into the same pattern of lust and passion and….emptiness? Whatever it was, it wasn’t helping that Ali couldn’t keep her eyes off of Charles Whittemore. Try as she might to pretend that the young owner of the barn meant nothing to her and she was just worried for his emotional wellbeing, thinking that his closed off behavior was rather harmful, she knew that deep down she was drawn to the confidence that seemed to radiate in every direction. Not the same playboy vibes or superiority complex that followed Capitani and Montgomery but a solid, determined and deserved sense of his worth.


Biting her lip, she focused back on the rider. They were performing their Prix St. George freestyle to the classical ballet by Tchaikovsky, Alaric expertly guiding his mare through every pattern and every beat. It was…beautiful, Ali had to admit, a sense of pride forming in her. She may not love him but there was no denying that the blonde was a phenomenal athlete with dedication to his craft and a sense of pride about his work. Ali knew the feeling, being much the same when it came to her own horses and riding. What was the point of it all if she did not do her best by the horses and showed their potential to the fullest? As the pair wrapped up their test with a canter pirouette and a salute, she clapped delicately before grabbing her jacket from the seat beside her and starting towards the temporary stalls used at the show. There was nothing else to see - even with her limited knowledge of the sport, she knew that Alaric had scored the best of the lot.



Ali took her time heading to the barn, stopping to chat with a few of the riders and coaches she knew, smiling sadly when a few of the old timers said their condolences about John. Although it had been years, it was the first time Ali was hearing them, unable to make the funeral. Sighing as the last person hurried to one ring or another, she finally ended up at the area belonging to the Whittemore riders, noticing Lady already in crossties and Charlie diligently rinsing off the large mare, careful to keep out of her reach, gently murmuring something as she worked. The scene made the blonde smile, seeing how much her cousin resembled her - only a few years ago, she had been grooming at every show before her mentors noticed her skills and switched her to ride the youngsters and catch ride for clients. Ali thrived in the ring but, as she looked at the younger girl, she wondered if Charlie would ever be as comfortable. For all they were much alike, the younger girl was much more happy and that much more naive. Charlie hated the ring since she was little even when she performed…



“Congratulations on your win handsome,” Ali smiled at Alaric as he appeared, coming over to kiss his cheek, her lips kissing the air. “Not that it would have been any other way.” That was the truth - there was no one here today to challenge Lady and Alaric and make them break a sweat. As she looked up into his cold eyes, she quirked an eyebrow in question. “Dinner?”

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.