Chapter Two

The couple arrived at the hall a few minutes behind schedule, but the greeting they received upon their arrival was nonetheless unforeseen. Everyone in the hall had burst into cheers when Victoria and Victor arrived, arms linked. Shredded paper was thrown in the air in large quantities, most of it landing on the newlyweds.

“Come,” said Mrs. Everglot, “Let the feast begin.” What a feast it was; the Van Dorts had gone all out for their son and daughter-in-law. Turkey lined the tables, along with a variety of salads and vegetables. Fine china decorated the tables, each place setting identical to the others. Mrs. Van Dort steered Victoria and Victor to a table in the front of the hall with two place settings. Then she returned to her seat.

Victor frowned. “I don’t quite like being on display like this, but I guess we have no choice in the matter.” He glanced at the other tables, noticing that all of the seats were filled. Victoria nodded as Victor pulled out her chair for her.

She sat down, wary of her skirts and said, “Thank you, Mr. Van Dort!” She looked at him and smiled.

He returned to his chair. “You’re quite welcome, Mrs. Van Dort.” He sat down and mirrored her smile.

A small bell was rung to attain silence and attention. Mr. Everglot rose from his seat at the far end of one of the dining tables. He raised his glass in the direction of his daughter and said, “A toast: to the newlyweds—” Here, Victor was reminded of the dead dwarf general in the Land of the Dead and was overcome by a severe case of the giggles, which rather intruded upon Mr. Everglot’s toast.

“—may they have eternal joy and fortu—luck,” he said, speaking louder as his face turned an impressive shade of red at Victor’s insolent giggling and his own mistake. Everyone in attendance raised their glasses as well, not offering any additional toasts.

After conversation resumed, Victor and Victoria began eating. Neither was very people friendly, and they didn’t fancy being the center of attention. Victor began his meal, eager for the party to be over. He cleared his throat. “W-w-where would you like to go once this is over? Assuming we can, g-go somewhere…” Victor had surprised himself by asking his bride that question. Normally he was shy, but the marriage had given both of them a sense of freedom.

“Well,” said Victoria, “I suppose that since we haven’t been told about any future plans, perhaps we could go to the park.” She took a bite of salad and looked up at Victor as he mused over his answer.

Victor recalled his memories of playing fetch with his deceased dog, Scraps; they would often visit the park, Victor throwing stick after stick until dark. He was interested in creating some new memories there as well as honoring the old. “I’d like that,” he said. “Shall we meet there around five or so?” He had no way of knowing if they would be expected elsewhere, but he really liked the direction things were taking.

Victoria smiled. “That would be lovely,” she said. “How about meeting on the bench under the willow tree?”

Victor broke into a broad grin. Something had finally gone right for a change. He was meeting with his new wife in a few hours in a spot of existing memories. “That sounds perfect.”

They raised their glasses and bumped them together lightly enough to make a soft clink. "Cheers,” they said in unison, both smiling and thinking of the other.

Suddenly, everyone began hitting their glasses with silverware. Not knowing what this meant, having just been introduced to marriages and receptions, Victor and Victoria looked confusedly at each other. Victor looked to his father, who mouthed Kiss her! several times for emphasis. Victor turned to face Victoria.

“Victoria,” he said over the echoing clangs, “I believe that means that we’re supposed to…erm…kiss now.”

A look of astonishment crossed Victoria’s face. “That is so…” She searched for the correct word and found it. “Vulgar! But I suppose I’ll do it if you will.”

In response, Victor leaned to kiss her just as she laced her fingers between his under the tablecloth. He gave her a quick peck to silence the noise. The guests watched and then returned to their meals.

A few minutes passed as the couple finished their meal and exchanged pleasantries. Soon thetables were cleared and cake was served. Although both Victor and Victoria declined shoving cake in the other’s face, those in attendance still enjoyed the consumption of their own cake.

The small bell was rung once more Everyone turned to see what would happen next. The sound originated not from Mr. Everglot, but from Nell, Victor’s mother. “All right everyone,” she said in her scratchy yet oddly booming voice, “it’s time for the first dance for the newlyweds.” She smiled as Victor and Victoria were pushed toward the front of the circle the guests had formed around Nell. Victor and Victoria nervously looked at each other.

Nell backed away and everyone sat down as music began playing. A man was playing a piano in the rear of the hall for Victor and his bride. Uncertainly, Victor took Victoria’s hand and placed his other hand around her waist as she mimicked him. They listened to the music as it wafted into their ears. Tentatively, they began to waltz to the strange music. Captivated, Victor allowed Victoria to spin around gracefully just as other couples joined them on the dance floor. Victor remembered Emily, the Corpse Bride, dancing gracefully in an alley in the Land of the Dead and shook his head to rid himself of the memory.

Suddenly, the dance floor was filled with the swishing sounds of skirts being twirled and the music from the piano. However, the song soon ended and the music stopped.

Out of nowhere came the blare of trumpets and guitars, and a livelier tune was struck. The reception hall had given way to the bar it truly was as more couples, most of which were drunk. They stepped onto the dance floor to prove their dance skills to anyone who cared enough to watch. Dismayed, Victor and Victoria retreated to a corner in the back of the hall near the door.
They sat down, happy to be out of the limelight for a change. The couple began to converse quietly as their parents whirled around the dance floor in a drunken stupor. Even Victoria’s parents had joined in on the festivities, surely not of their own accord, but perhaps from some sprites.

As her mother nearly fell over, Victoria whispered in Victor’s ear. “I might suggest that we take our leave soon,” she said. She glanced at the door, noting that no one was within several feet of it.

“That’s a…a capital idea,” said Victor as the town crier began swiveling in circles. “Shall we leave unannounced?” He didn’t know the protocol for leaving his wedding reception.

“Well, I imagine we would,” said Victoria, speaking faster. “If we would ask, I rather think we would be forever frowned upon. If we are to go I would suggest leaving now.” She looked to him, and he nodded a silent reply.

They rose together, unnoticed, and walked toward the door. Their only problem occurred when a drunk partygoer asked, “Where you goin’?” as they made for the door.

Victor responded with, “Ah we’d be leaving. Best wishes to the newlyweds.” Luckily, this man didn’t notice that it was the newlyweds who were leaving and he returned to singing loudly.

Victoria took Victor’s hand once they were outside. It had gotten dark by now and a little colder. Even in her floor length wedding dress, Victoria could feel the chill. The two trudged through some fallen leaves toward the park. They found a vacant bench with ease; for everyone was at the party and the park was lousy with emptiness. Victor noticed the fog his breath had made and shivered. Winter was coming.

Victoria took his hand again. “This seemed like a good idea when the sun was still out…perhaps we should go to a house.” She shivered as Victor rose.

“That sounds good; would you like to come to my house?” While the thought of sitting in an empty house with his bride scared him a little, Victor was convinced that anything was better than the cold.

Victoria rose and smiled. “That sounds like a good plan to me,” she said. She held out her arm. “Shall we?”

Victor linked arms with her in reply as they walked to Victor’s home in the pitch black streets.

~

Victor and Victoria approached Victor’s home as the stars began to twinkle in to existence in the night sky. Victor fumbled in his pocket for his house key. Finally he found it, just short of considering returning to the party to get the spare key from his father. He nervously placed it into the lock and turned the knob.

Victoria gasped; the house was so homely, so unlike her own. She recalled the dark emptiness of the Everglot manner, the dozen or so paintings of her ancestors lining hallways. She then looked closer at Victor’s home. It was smaller than she had expected, but it was charming all the same. Knick knacks littered the walls and tables; doilies, old photos, dried flowers, and so many more.

Victor noticed her lapse of speech. Concerned, he asked, “What? What is it; is something wrong?”

Victoria shook her head slowly. “No, nothing’s wrong, it’s just that…well, your house is a lot, well friendlier. My home depresses me, and this house emits rays of cheer and happiness.” She turned to better view a framed sketch of a drooping rose. “This is beautiful,” she said with awe. “The details are flawless; who has drawn this masterpiece?”

Victor blushed and looked at his feet. “I did,” he mumbled. He wasn’t used to praise for his artwork. Just the opposite, usually his parents scolded him for not paying attention to the ‘real’ world when he would lose himself in a piece.

She walked slowly back over to him and leaned over. She looked up into his face from her hunched position. “Victor,” she said breathlessly, “that is remarkable!”
Victor looked up at her in surprise. “You really think so?” he asked. He had never given much thought to his art skills; they had merely been an escape from his daily prison of his parents.

“I’ve got some more. Would…would you like to see them?” he asked uncertainly. He didn’t think that Victoria and he would have much in common, seeing as how she had been forbidden from learning music. This certainly was a pleasant discovery for the both of them.

She clasped her hands in joy. “I would very much like that, Victor,” she said, smiling innocently.

He motioned to the stairs and began climbing them. He stopped to say, “I keep the rest of them up in my room,” before resuming the ascent once more. Victoria picked up the front of her dress and followed him. Victor reached the top and made a left. Victoria quickened her pace and trailed behind him, drinking in everything. Victor looked in her direction and managed a nervous smile. This was his first time taking any girl into his room ever. He took a breath and opened the door. He stepped inside and waited for her.

She entered cautiously, for she could sense his nervous attitude. She looked around and thought in silence. Some would say his room was a bit on the girly side but Victoria disagreed. She thought the sensitivity was fitting for her groom. His walls had a few items on them: a photo of him as a young boy with his deceased dog, Scraps, and at least a dozen drawings. They were of every subject; butterflies, scenes from outside his windows, people, everything.

Still looking at a particularly well shaded sketch of his mother, Victoria said, “Oh Victor…you have so many talents. You could put all other men to shame in an instant.”
Victor’s cheeks colored. “Stop,” he said with a smile in his voice, “you’re carrying on.”

“No, really,” she said, struggling to make her point. “I’m serious. I don’t know why my parents—well, I don’t know why they don’t like you.” She looked at him and immediately knew something was a foul.

He had positioned himself directly in front of his desk, which was littered with parchment. However, she noticed one piece in particular he was trying to hide. “Victor,” she asked curiously, “what are you hiding?” She giggled as she walked toward him. He tried to inconspicuously take the parchment from the desk, but under Victoria’s gaze failed.
She tried looking behind him, but he took the paper and ran to a corner of the room. “No,” he said, shaking his head, “you can’t see it yet. It’s not finished.”

“Okay,” she said laughing at the hilarity of the situation. “Now you’ve sparked my interest. What’s on that piece of parchment?” She reached for his hand and put it in hers. “You know I’ll like it, however it looks,” she said softly, for she had an idea of what it was at this point.

“All right,” said Victor, realizing that resistance was futile. “Don’t laugh though. I did it…last night.” He handed her the paper, which was a bit crumpled by now. “I couldn’t sleep a wink,” he said as she opened it. “Your face just kept popping into my head,” he said tenderly.

Her gaze wandered from his face to the paper. Suddenly she was very conscious of his arm, which was wrapped affectionately around her waist as they looked at the picture together. It was a stunningly beautiful portrait of Victoria. She was sitting in her wedding dress, with a rose tucked behind her ear, smiling at something outside of the portrait. Oddly enough, the picture’s gaze landed on Victor.

For a minute, Victoria just stood there, expressionless. Victor took back his arm and strangled his tie. He had no way of knowing what his bride was thinking, and it was making him sick with worry. But he needn’t worry much longer, for Victoria looked up with tears in her eyes. Her eyes told a thousand stories of love, of appreciation, but most of all, of completion. “Victor,” she said with a sniff, “no one’s ever done anything like this for me. Thank you!”

Suddenly Victor became aware that even when she was crying, his bride was beautiful. Her teardrops hung on her eyelashes like so many diamonds. Go on, said a voice inside him, she’s your bride. He wrinkled his eyebrows, concerned that this wasn’t the time or place, but denied the feeling and took Victoria’s hand. He led her away from the corner, and the both of them sat on Victor’s bed. He took the drawing from her and put it on his dresser. He watched as her tears spotted her dainty hands like raindrops. He took her face in her hands.

“I love you,” he whispered. Before she could respond, his lips had found hers and she had ceased crying. The couple sat kissing on Victor’s bed just as the moon rose to bathe them in its pale light.

Chapter One

Victor stared nervously at the church door, waiting for the arrival of his bride to be, Victoria. He scanned the guests seated in the church pews. He saw his mother, who smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. This was the day that Victor was to be married. His father beamed with pride. For although Victor’s was an arranged marriage, he was very much in love with his bride.

As if on cue, his thoughts strayed to the last few days. The events had unfolded so quickly, his head spun trying to remember everything. He remembered practicing his vows in the forest just outside of town, placing a ring on a stick poking out of the ground, which was really a corpse’s exposed digit! He thought of the Corpse Bride, Emily, whom he had been married to briefly. She had been appalled upon discovering that her ‘true love’ was to be wed to Victoria, whom she had called ‘Little Miss Living.’

He remembered the hurt in her eyes after they had traveled back to the living world from the afterlife. He was ashamed of himself for lying to her; he had said how wanted to show her his parents when, in truth, he had gone back for Victoria. He remembered when they returned, how Emily had discovered death had already parted them and that in order for her to be married to victor, he had to die for her. He recalled the ceremony, her acknowledgement of Victoria. Then there was Victoria’s brief marriage to Lord Barkis, who had killed Emily! He remembered the cold look in Barkis’s eyes when he asked Emily, “Can a heart still break after its stopped beating?” Then Barkis had drunk poison and died. Then Emily had said she had been set free, then turning into hundreds of butterflies. He smiled, knowing that now she could rest in peace.

His attention returned to searching for Victoria, who had still not arrived. He turned to view the rear of the church, and there he saw her in all of her beauty. Her blond hair was pinned on top of her head in a bun. He blushed and looked at her body. She was wearing a marvelous white wedding dress, trimmed in lace from neckline to the floor. Her face radiated a sunny glow, instead of its normal pale white complexion. She turned her head in Victor’s direction and smiled.

Victor blushed again and mouthed, You look like an angel. Now it was Victoria’s turn to blush, but before she could reply, she was whisked away by her mother, who wore a permanent scowl. She shot Victor a look that said, She’s only marrying you because I know you have money. While this would normally cause Victor to become nervous, today he smiled at her. After the last few days, he learned that life is short, and if you don’t tell someone how you feel, they’ll never know. He had changed so much over the past week. Even his nervous traits, such as dropping things and stuttering had lessened in occurrence.

“Victor,” said Pastor Galswells, “the ceremony is to begin soon.”

“O-o-okay,” Victor said. So much for abated nervous traits.

Victor walked to the back of the church, eager for the ceremony to begin.

~

Victoria inhaled, but couldn’t get as much air into her lungs as usual, due to the backbreaking tightness of her corset. She leaned to the left to get a better view of her future husband, only to be shoved back to her original position by her mother.

“This is a wedding, not a sideshow display at a carnival,” hissed Mrs. Everglot in Victoria’s ear. “No child of mine will be caught gawking at someone like they’re a freak on display on her wedding day, even if he is a freak,” the last part whispered almost inaudibly.

Victoria sighed. Her mother would think it would be that of regret for moving, but it was a sigh of contentment. She had seen her future husband, and he looked simply ravishing. His usual black ensemble was replaced with a white tuxedo. His shirt pocket held a single red rose. Not one black hair was out of place.

Something was whispered at the front of the throng of people in the rear of the church. Suddenly, Victor’s best man, a cousin from a nearby town, walked down the aisle, arm linked with Victoria’s maid of honor, a distant relative of Victoria’s mother, whom Victoria had no voice in choosing. As they reached the altar, they separated on to separate ends. Next came the ring bearer, a small boy from the town. Now came the nerve-racking part for Victoria.

Music erupted from the church’s organ, signifying the bride. The flower girl, a child no older than four, walked down the aisle of the church throwing flower petals everywhere. Ready or not, here comes the bride, thought Victoria.

She began walking down the aisle with her father, a pudgy old bald man. Everyone stood up in their pews and turned around to get a better look at the bride. Victoria managed a weak smile, contrast to her father’s neutral frown. As they walked down the aisle, the people they passed turned around. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the altar.

“Who gives this woman to this man?” asked Pastor Galswells.

“Her father,” said Mr. Everglot. He turned to face Victoria. She smiled at him, and he lifted her veil from her face, letting it fall behind her, connected at the base of the bun in her hair. Before she could say anything, he left and returned to his seat next to her mother.

Victoria frowned but knew her father was just overwhelmed with emotion; that was why he didn’t say anything to her. She walked onto the altar, meeting Victor’s smile with one of her own. She stood between him and her maid of honor as the ceremony began.

The ceremony passed without hesitation until it came time for the vows. Victor had managed to perfect his vows, or so he thought. Regardless of whether or not he did, the wedding would go on.

Victor cleared his throat. “With this hand, I will l-l-lift your sorrows.”
Victoria stared lovingly into his eyes. She repeated, “With this hand I will lift your sorrows.”

The two took a few steps toward the table. Victor nearly stumbled, but Victoria steadied him by holding onto his arm. Once she let go, he opened the bottle of wind. While pouring it into her cup, he recited, “Your cup will never empty for I shall be your wine.” He put the bottle back on the table.

Victoria picked up the bottle and poured wine into Victor’s cup. “Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine.” She placed the bottle back on the table and closed it.

Each of them took a small candlestick from the table and lit them from a small tea candle that had already been lit. As they moved their candles toward their marriage candle they said in unison, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” The fire caught, and they put their lit candles in holders to the left and right of their marriage candle.

“The rings, please,” said Pastor Galswells to the ring bearer. The small boy clumsily stepped onto the altar and thrust out the pillow with the rings on it. Victor took Victoria’s ring, while Victoria took Victor’s ring. Job complete, the boy returned to his spot.

Victor turned to face Victoria. He looked into her eyes and saw a happiness that he’d never seen before. He placed her ring between his finger and his thumb. “With this ring,” he said, slipping it onto her ring finger tenderly, “I do thee wed.”
Victoria looked into Victor’s eyes with love; his eyes reflected hers. She took back her hand, looked at the ring and smiled. She placed his ring between her finger and her thumb. Eyes shining, she said, “With this ring, I do thee wed.” she slipped the ring onto Victor’s finger and took his hand in hers, much to her mother’s dismay.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” said Pastor Galswells in a bored voice. “You may kiss the bride.”

Victor hadn’t prepared for this part; he had just sort of hoped nature would take its course. That seemed to work well enough, for he put his hands under Victoria’s chin. Victoria took things from there. She put her arms around Victor’s neck and leaned in. Their lips met, and the church hall exploded in applause. After all the setbacks, they were finally married.

<3

After a few seconds, the couple separated. They linked hands, and Victoria held her bouquet in her other hand. They walked down the aisle, blushing and smiling. Everyone in the pews was either standing or crying from joy. Everyone, that is, except the Everglots. They had remained seated throughout the entire ceremony, even the end. If anything, they looked more miserable now than they did in the beginning of the wedding. Amidst the cheers, Mr. Everglot, whose name was Finnis, said to his wife, “This peasant boy will be the end of us.”

“I agree,” said Mrs. Everglot, whose name was Maudeline. “The only benefit to this marriage is the money that comes with it.”

Meanwhile, the newlyweds went outside, greeted by the glow of the afternoon sun. After throwing the bouquet to some excited young girls, Victoria sought out Victor’s mother.

“Mrs. Van Dort, where are Victor and I to go now?” Victoria asked.
“Well, you two should head over to the reception hall in about ten minutes…” Here Mrs. Van Dort winked at Victoria.

“No, no, I mean, well…” Victoria blushed slightly. “Now that we are married, what will happen next?” You see, Victoria had only just met Victor a few days previously. She knew nothing of their futures, which had become intertwined.

“Well,” said Mrs. Van Dort, looking thoughtful, “I suppose you two will go on a honeymoon for a month or so, possibly in one of our manors…” Mrs. Van Dort walked away, plotting and planning the honeymoon, which had been overlooked somehow.

Victoria shrugged and began searching for Victor, who had remained sitting on the chapel’s steps. She would cross the bridge of a honeymoon when it presented itself. “Ah, there you are,” she said upon her return to the church stairs.
“Victoria,” whispered Victor. “We are married.”

She sat down next to him. “I know, Victor dear.” She took his hand and held it in her lap. His cheeks turned pink at Victoria’s gesture. “It’s okay,” she said, stroking his cheek with her free hand. “I’m yours now.”

He continued blushing with vigor. “In the ceremony, the k-k-k- it was—”

“Magical,” she finished for him. “I look forward…to many more.” She let go of his hand, and they embraced, her cheeks matching Victor’s in color. Today was a very emotional day.

Unwillingly, it was Victor who broke their warm embrace. He asked her, “What are we to do now?”

Rather than teasing him like his mother had to done to Victoria, she merely said, “We’re to go to the reception hall I believe; I expect everyone else is there already.” She looked around the grounds. “Would you know where that is?”
Victor rose from the steps where they were seated and provided Victoria a sturdy helping hand getting up. “Yes. It’s down the road from here, but it’s shorter to go through…the forest,” he said, recalling that his last excursion in the forest hadn’t ended particularly well.

Victoria noticed Victor’s discontent. She looked at his face and asked, “Which way is better for you to take? I don’t mind the longer walk…”

“Are you sure?” he asked. He was thankful for Victoria’s straightforward nature, or at least her ability of knowing what he was thinking without asking.
“Yes, it’s fine,” she said with a smile. She linked arms with her new husband and said, “Let’s go!”