Forgot to add the disclaimer to the first chapter, it's now changed.

Here is chapter two!

Victor wasn't sure he sat there on the stump, outside the village, but he knew it was cold. Winter had already begun, and it wouldn't be long before the village was smothered with snow, like icing on an otherwise bland cake. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, but it brought no warmth; it was freezing.

As cold as Death.

Knowing who was behind him, Victor didn't move for a while. No words came to mind on how to explain himself without upsetting Emily. She sat down next to him, her zombified hand still on his shoulder, looking at him with concern.

"Darling," she said softly. "What's wrong?"

Victor swallowed. "This…this is wrong!" She jerked, startled, but only tightened her grip on him. "Don't get me wrong Emily, you're a lovely person, but I don't even know you! And you don't know me, either! And now I'm suddenly supposed to love you within an hour of meeting you?"

His words stung, and Emily felt her eyes water. She had been dead for three years, but it still amazed her how her deceased body retained most of its functions. "Well, you should have thought of that when you randomly asked me to marry you!" Victor sighed and held his head in his hands, and just for a moment, Emily felt her still heart breaking.

"Emily," he said quietly. "I wasn't asking you to marry me. I was practising my vows because tomorrow evening- well, today now- I'm supposed to be marrying someone else."

That did it for Emily. So he didn't really love her at all. And as much as she tried to herself that it wasn't fair, that she loved him, she knew that really she was in love with the idea of him.

So she cried.

Tears streaked her face in torrents, as she whimpered softly. Somehow, that was even worse than wailing loudly. Suddenly, she felt Victor's hand on the side of her face. She looked up at him blearily in confusion. He smiled and wiped some tears away with his thumb.

"The thing is, though." He stated soothingly. "I don't love her, either."

"Huh?"

"It was an arranged managed between both our parents, so that each could prosper from the money it would bring them. I only met her this afternoon and I've barely spoken to her."

Emily sniffed and started to feel a tiny twinge of guilt. Who was she to start demanding Victor to be the perfect husband? He must be nearly insane with the pressure of being forced into two marriages, both of which with woman he had never met.

And they hadn't even started on the fact that she was dead.

"What…" she gulped and tried again. "What are you going to do?"

"I want to get to know you." Well, that hadn't been the answer she was expecting.

"Huh?" she repeated. God, she sounded like an idiot.

"Maybe we can make this work. Maybe we can't. Lets go back downstairs, and we can talk. We're not going to talk about marriage or we feel about each other, we going to talk about ourselves. What we like, what we don't. I don't love you, Emily…" She trembled a little again. "But I do want to be your friend."

Relief flooded her. That was far better than she could have hoped for. The Land of the Dead was lively, but she had few friends- more like regular corpses to party with. Things were so hectic; people didn't often stop to talk properly.

She managed a weak smile and reached for his hand, whispering lightly.

"Hopscotch." Smoke billowed around them in a flurry, and then they were gone, leaving only an open mouthed town crier watching from behind a tree.

Emily and Victor reappeared in Elder Gutnecht's study in a whoosh of smoke. Emily reluctantly let go of his hand. They heard a faint snoring; the Elder had fallen asleep.

Giggling slightly, Emily nudged Victor in the ribs. He turned to see what she thought was funny, and laughed out loud.

Elder Gutnecht was cuddling the raven while he slept while nibbling slightly on his bony thumb.

"Looks like someone else might me having a wedding soon." She said dryly.

Chuckling, Victor followed as Emily led him out into the street. Many people passed, most of them blue-skinned with various injuries, but some were completely skeletal. Intrigued, Victor turned to Emily.

"How come some of you are complete skeletons? They can't have died like that, or do you…you know…rot?" he asked timidly. He hoped she wasn't offended.

To his surprise, she just laughed. "The state of bodies is determined by our state of mind down here. If we're upset or depressed or anything negative, we rot. Otherwise you stay as you are." She held up her bony arm to demonstrate. "Naturally I was kind of unhappy when I was murdered, but it stopped when I came to terms with it.

"Wow. Some of these guys must have been really depressed."

"No, most of them just then go along with the rotting just to see what its like. That's why most of the skeletons you meet are the outgoing, lively ones like Bonejangles."

"And Elder Gutnecht? Not exactly a partier."

Emily laughed again. "You'd be surprised, Victor, you really would."

Trying to get the idea of a dancing Gutnecht out of his head, Victor walked with Emily to her house, talking. Just talking. Not about silly marriages or confusing feelings, just…life. Or, afterlife in this case.

Victor couldn't help but feel right around Emily. In the village, he had always been nervous when talking to people, especially women. And whenever he found the courage to make contact, they just laughed at him, the ridiculous fish merchant's son. When he was first told Victoria and he were to be wed, he nearly fainted.

Emily was different. When she spoke, her confidence just seemed to flow into him and make him less self-conscious. The Land of the Dead in general just felt good; it was macabre yes, but that just seemed to make its people more accepting. They were only so many things Victor could possibly do to embarrass himself when all around him people were constantly being foolish, with limbs falling off here, raucous skeleton parties there, and generally just not having a care in the Underworld. This place was far more alive than anywhere else he'd been to, even if everyone in it was dead.

Soon they came to a small, nondescript house on the corner between what appeared to be 'Skellington Street' and 'Lachrymose Lane'. Emily smiled at him briefly, then they opened the door and entered.