Work Text:
Theodosia Burr, soon-to-be Alston, counted herself lucky in many ways.
She had a wonderfully doting father. Aaron Burr never mollycoddled his daughter. Instead, he treated her as the intelligent, capable being she was, obliging all her questions without treating her like an imbecile.
Her mother was the most delightful woman, who always had a smile on her face, no matter the situation. Theo knew that her mother had once been married to Jacques Prevost, but the jovaial yet stoic woman never let on exactly what had happened.
She loved her parents with all the affection that could be found within the deep abscesses of her heart, and that love would never diminish so long as she kept her childhood memories near the forefront of her mind. Her parents had given her everything they could. Her mother would read to her, teach her piano and dance, French and needlework, and assist her in her cooking adventures. Her father found the time from his busy schedule to tutor her in mathematics, the natural sciences, Latin, Biblical study and law. He wanted his daughter to be as knowledgeable as any man, and she truly thanked him for it every day. The rewards reaped themselves when Theo could discuss maturely and even outwit men when it came to political talk at social functions.
She truly would miss her parents when she moved out of their home, and into her future husband’s home. Theo adored their company, and she would simply not be in as close as a proximity to them.
Her upcoming wedding weighed on her mind a lot. The man she was engaged to, one Mr Joseph Alston, had secured her hand through all the proper means. She had been swept off her feet by his gentlemanly charms, and he had asked her father demurely for a hope of marrying her. Theo was glad that the marriage was of love, and not arrangement. Her parents would never force the horror of an unwanted marriage on their sweet daughter.
She sat on a chair in a small, hidden alcove of the church where she was due to marry. Her mother stood behind her, fixing her hair into a lovely plait, which ran down the back of her head before being affixed by a ribbon in a queue at the nape of her long neck.
Theo was wearing her wedding gown already, an elegant, flowing creation by Hercules Mulligan, an acquaintance of her father. Draped around her neck was a simple silver chain, adorned with a locket. The locket was engraved with the initials of both her parents.
“Mother, is it alright if we embrace each other once more before I am married?” Theo asked, tentatively, even though her mother was always good-natured in her interactions with her daughter.
“Why, Theodosia, it would be my honest pleasure. You shall not be one of our family for too much longer, so I must take comfort in all the time I have with you.”
A shadow appeared in the alcove’s entrance and her father emerged. “Theodosia, how are you feeling? Nervous?”
She stood up and raced to embrace her father. “I’m feeling more excitement than any other emotion.”
He let go of the tight embrace and held her at arm’s length. “You look beautiful, my darling. Now, let’s attend your wedding.