"The Bride Wore Black"

Act III

"Put the hem a little lower. No, lower," instructed Morgana as Beth sewed her wedding dress for her.

"Happy to, Morgue!" said Beth cheerfully. Out of her four zombie-friends, Morgana knew Beth the least. Maybe it was for this reason that Morgana found her so intriguing. Would she be this agreeable without the Sleep of Ages? This friendly? Did she really love Dark as much as she seemed to? Beth evidently hadn't liked Morgana much before the spell was cast, and she certainly had reason to hate her now. But Morgana barely knew her, and instead of making it easier for her to enslave Beth, this somehow made it harder. Well, there was no reason that the two of them couldn't talk, Morgana reasoned. She decided to start on a topic that she knew they both had in common.

"Beth?" she said as the young woman's fingers flew back and forth with the needle.

"Yah?" she asked, and looked up. Her eyes weren't blank anymore. In fact, they looked quite lively. That was part of the Sleep of Ages: the victims seemed mostly normal, except that they would follow any request their master issued without question.

"You love Darkwing, don't you?"

"Oh, madly," said Beth, and went back to her sewing.

"As much as I do?"

Beth paused again, considering the question. "Maybe," she replied, "but I sure don't deserve to marry him, the way you do." She smiled.

Somehow this answer picked at Morgana's nerves a bit. It struck her that Beth had too much humility... Enough to offset Dark's ego, easily. Maybe she was the reason he wasn't interested in marriage at the moment. "You're going to stay away from him now, aren't you?" ordered Morgana, with a tinge of anger.

"Of course! He's yours now, I wouldn't dream of touching him!" Beth looked sincerely shocked and a little insulted that Morgana had doubted her loyalty. "He always was yours, really," she added, less cheerfully. She returned once again to her work.

Morgana felt somewhat ashamed that she had gotten so upset with Beth; the girl was one of the few people she'd ever met who really was sincerely honest. As she thought that, one of the few other people she knew who was honest came into the room.

"Hi, Morgana," said Launchpad, who was carrying a large amount of black roses. "Hey, Beth." He said this quietly, a little shyly, and grinned at Beth. Morgana clearly saw his emotions laying wide open in front of them. But, maybe because of the spell, Beth didn't see Launchpad's feelings for her at all.

"Hi, Launchpad!" she exclaimed happily. "Look, I'm halfway done!" She held up the pinned, loosely sewn black satin dress she was working on. "Won't it look great on Morgana? I mean, if I can do it right."

"You're doin' a bang-up job," said Launchpad, grinning heartily. He walked past Morgana as though he suddenly didn't see her. "It'll look great on Morgana, all right..." He smiled at her, took a deep breath, and said, "It'd also look, um, real nice on you."

Morgana broke out into a charmed smile. Watching this was suddenly like a movie, a very romantic scene. She was enjoying it.

"Oh. You think so?" said Beth, somewhat charmed as well. She put the dress down and looked Launchpad right in the eye. He had set his chin in his hand, which he had leaned on the table Beth was working on. "I don't think it's right for me at all."

"Sure it is," Launchpad assured her. "Maybe blue'd be better, though. To match your eyes. You got really pretty eyes, Beth."

Beth blushed deeply and whispered, "Thank you."

Morgana suddenly wondered if this scene was really happening naturally. What if, subconsciously, she was trying to use Launchpad as a distraction for Beth, to keep her away from Dark? All of a sudden the fact that this moment resembled a movie sickened her. 'What am I doing?' she asked herself. She couldn't stand to think that she was manipulating Beth and Launchpad into playing this scene, so she decided to put a stop to it.

"Beth."

She snapped back to attention, turning her head away from Launchpad. "Yes?"

"Back to your work," ordered Morgana. Beth nodded and began sewing very intently. "Launchpad, take those flowers to the hall."

"Hey, no problemo, boss lady. See ya, Beth!" he said as he headed for the door, and he waved back at them over his shoulder.

"Bye," mumbled Beth, without looking up.

"Well, Beth, I'm going to check up on Gosalyn and then get to work on the invitations. Keep up the good work," said Morgana, and she stepped out the door and made her way to the dining hall.

"How's it coming, Gosalyn?" she said, poking her head through the door.

"Great, Mom," chirped Gosalyn. She was polishing silverware happily. "I also did the candlesticks!" The 'mom' thing hadn't been Morgana's idea - Gosalyn had started it on her own. Morgana was letting her keep it, though, until she figured out whether she liked it or not.

"That's --That's good," said Morgana. She suddenly again felt mildly assaulted by unease. "Well, I have to go fix up the invitations."

"Can I help?" Gosalyn looked at her with eyes of total innocence. The Sleep of Ages had had a weird effect on her. Gosalyn had never been this perky in real life, or innocent.

"Well, this is really something I should handle on my own." To Morgana, the excuse sounded lame, and almost cruel. Gosalyn swallowed it instantly, though, and chirped her assent.

As Morgana was on her way down the hall, Gosalyn delivered the clincher: "I love you, Mom!" Despite herself, Morgana winced as she walked towards the study.

She decided to try to turn her thoughts to more pleasant subjects, and let her mind wander. She ended up wondering about changing her name after the wedding. "Mrs. Morgana Mallard... Mrs. Morgana McCawber-Mallard... Mrs. Morgana Mallard-McCawber... Hmmm. Mr. Drake McCawber. I like the sound of that," she said as she settled herself in the chair in front of her desk. She pushed the gnawing guilt at the back of her mind away.

She kept it controlled for another twenty-four hours, and then, late the next night, Morgana crept downstairs from her room. It wasn't as if everyone in her house was asleep - It was late at night, and what self-respecting McCawber would be sitting at home at three o'clock on a night like this? Her entire family was out having fun. Morgana had stayed at home, claiming that she wanted to rest before the big day. She was getting married tomorrow. It was hard for her to believe, and even harder for her to feel good about. She needed to talk to someone who would tell her that she was doing the right thing, someone who would know what the right thing was. And the only person who could do that was Darkwing.

The entire house was silent as she made her way to the room where Darkwing was being kept. Her friends, being Normals, instinctively went to sleep at this hour, and she knew that Darkwing, deprived of the drive to fight crime at night, would be asleep too. She found the door to his room and reached out her hand towards the knob. Losing her nerve, she withdrew it, then took a deep breath and flung the door open.

Darkwing's form was straight, leaning against a wall. The room was small - in actuality, it was a closet - and Morgana was by his side in no time. She stroked his cheek lovingly. "Dark?" she asked softly.

His eyes snapped open. "Morgana! My sweetest darling, my reason for living - why have you blessed me with this visit?"

"Darkwing, be serious for a moment," she began.

"I am being serious, my precious jewel! There is no flippancy involved in my relationship with you - I take you seriously in every respect!"

"Well, then, I think we need to talk."

"I would talk with you for all of eternity, if that were what you wished, my love! You are as a pearl in a desert! A rose in a field of weeds!" Darkwing seemed less and less sincere with every compliment he spouted forth.

"Could-could you please be quiet for--"

"Silence? Silence issuing from your lips is truly golden! Morgana, you are beauty personified!"

"Thank you, Dark, but--"

"Oh, just the way you thank me is wonderful! I think I'm going to have a heart attack from your absolute wonderfulness!"

"If you don't shut up, it won't be a heart attack that kills you!" snarled Morgana.

"Gotcha," said Darkwing, and shut his mouth. He looked up at her, his eyes full of worship, and listened.

"Now, Dark, I love you dearly," she began again, and was again interrupted.

"And I love you," he said. "Sorry," he added as she rolled her eyes. "Go on."

"Well... Despite that love, I just have to wonder if I'm doing the right thing. I'm counting on you to tell me, dear Dark. It's your life, after all, and the choices are always yours."

He didn't even take time to think. "You blessed me when you chose me to be your husband, my love. I can do nothing but thank you for taking the choice from me."

"Oh, this isn't working!" she exploded. "Darkwing, wake up!"

He sputtered suddenly, blinked rapidly, and shook his head. "Wh-what the-- what's going on? Where am I? Morgana?" His confusion was almost comical in a way, but at the moment it was nothing more than encumbersome.

"Dark, I have a very important question to ask you. Will you answer it in all honesty?" she said seriously, trying to penetrate the haze he was in.

"Wh-huh? What question? Am I in some sort of closet?"

She took his chin in her hand and turned his face towards hers. "Dark. Listen to me. You and I are getting married tomorrow evening. I took the choice in this matter away from you. I love you and I want nothing more than to make you happy, but I need to know if you will be happy. Is this the right thing to do, Darkwing?" she said intensely, looking into his eyes.

Thickly, he said, "Married? What? This has got to be a dream. I know I discussed marriage with you before, but I thought we ended it... Wait," he said, suddenly becoming clear on a few points. "It ended when we got into a fight, and-- and then you got kidnapped... but Morgana- you weren't really kidnapped at all, were you?"

This was more than Morgana could bear to hear. Before he could get any further, she panicked, and reached into her handbag and threw a foof bomb at his feet. Instantly he was zombified again, and Morgana was left with even fewer answers than she had had before.

Everything was perfect.

The church was dark, lit only with candles, as Aunt Nasty had requested. The wedding dress had been finished and looked lovely, just the way that Morgana had wanted it. Beth had said she could see at least twenty things that she had done wrong, but she hadn't specified what they were, and Morgana thought that the dress was wonderful. Beth had then gone on to sew up a dress for herself that Morgana had designed for her. Dark blue and tight, long-sleeved, very form fitting in all the best places. Morgana knew that Beth would wear it without another thought if she told her to, and she knew that Launchpad would love it.

There were at least a hundred roses, arranged beautifully all around the room - Launchpad had done his job and done it well. Moloculo had magicked in most of the family, and the bride's side of the room was packed. Gosalyn was a bridesmaid, and Beth and Launchpad were the only ones seated on the groom's side.

Morgana looked out into the hall. The town's minister was standing at the altar, looking completely intimidated to be surrounded by monsters, and Darkwing was a few feet away from him. Morgana knew that this was supposed to be the best day of her life, so she couldn't figure out why she felt so lousy. "It's nerves," she told herself. "Nothing more." But she knew that was a lie. She knew perfectly well that she was being eaten alive by guilt.

The organ kicked in to the "Here Comes the Bride" theme in a minor key, and her father looked at her and smiled. "My little girl," he said, and it was all he could manage before starting to get choked up.

"Oh, Father, don't," said Morgana, forgetting her own worries momentarily. She took out a handkerchief and wiped his eye with it. "Everything will be the same! I'll still be your little girl!"

"Yes, but what will my grandchildren be like? Part Normal?" he asked.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"I'm only joking," he assured her, patting her hand. "He's the man you want, and that's all that matters." She smiled at him and took his arm, and they started down the aisle.

On the way to the altar, she passed Launchpad and Beth. Launchpad, not surprisingly, was sobbing his eyes out. Beth was comforting him to the best of her ability.

"I-I'm sorry, Beth," he sniffled, "I just always cry at weddings!"

Beth patted him on the back and handed him a hankie that was almost identical to the one Morgana had used. "It's okay, Launchpad... You just cry your eyes out!" she said in a motherly tone. He blew his nose loudly into the hankie. "And... keep that handkerchief... as a gift," she offered weakly.

With every step, Morgana became less and less certain that this was what she wanted to do. She knew she loved Dark, but she had never thought about marriage before the time that her aunt had brought it up, and now this was all happening so quickly...

"Dearly... er... departed," began the minister nervously, looking down at his script to make sure he'd really said the right thing, "we are gathered here today..."

His voice trailed off in Morgana's mind as every doubt that she had filled her head instead. Marriage was forever. She had never believed in divorce. A union like this should be made in love, and last forever- to death, and beyond. How could she know if her love for Darkwing would last through time?

Then, suddenly, the problem that had been bothering her all along surfaced. The Darkwing she was going to be spending the rest of her life with wasn't the Darkwing she loved. She remembered her attempt to talk with him the night before. Nothing intelligent had come out of his mouth, just mindless proclamations of his eternal love for her. She knew he'd love her unconditionally, because that was what she had told him to do. But she didn't think she could love what he had become for very much longer.

She considered letting him go from the spell, but then considered his reaction last night. He wouldn't agree to marry her then. He'd be mad, and would probably never speak to her again. With good reason. Morgana nearly started crying as she realized what she had done.

"Do you, Darkwing Duck, take Morgana McCawber to be your lawfully wedded bride, in sickness, health, death, and the whole shebang? Do you promise to honor and protect her, for as long as your eternal spirits shall exist?" said the minister.

"I sure do!" said Darkwing. He turned to his bride. "I'll love you forever, Morgana, my treasure!"

"I wish I could hear you say that of your own free will," said Morgana softly. Suddenly she couldn't go through with the ceremony. It was all just a stupid farce, anyway. "Dark, darling, wake up!" she ordered.

The guests at the wedding gasped in shock as he snapped out of his hypnotic daze. "Wow," he said, shaking his head, "did I fall asleep in church again?" He noticed Morgana and something clicked. "Weren't we in a closet just a few seconds ago?" he asked her.

"All of you, wake up," she ordered of her zombie-ized slaves.

All three visibly jumped. "Look out, she's got a bomb!" shrieked Beth, then looked around her and saw where she was. She had at least one hundred Paranormal people glaring at her unhappily. "Uh, sorry?" she said timidly.

"What the... Where are we?" said Launchpad, standing over Beth protectively just in case anyone tried anything. Usually Morgana's friends and family freaked him out, but when Beth was around he was strangely brave. "Is this a church?"

"Dad! You're okay!" shouted Gosalyn, running to her father and embracing him.

"I'm fine, Gos," said Darkwing, returning the hug. He set her back down on the ground and rubbed his head. "A little confused, though. What's going on, Morgue?"

"It's definitely time for me to explain," she said, and she told them the whole story. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father shaking his head, and scowled. Did he have to treat her like a baby all the time? "...But I couldn't go through with it," she finished a few minutes later, her eyes downcast.

"Gee, Morgue, I didn't know you felt this way," said Darkwing slowly.

She looked up in surprise. She hadn't expected this reaction at all. "Then you're not mad at me?" she said, sniffling a little.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. I mean, enslaving me and my family was taking it a little out of hand," he said. "But I can be a little hard to talk to, and well, maybe I was being a little bit unreasonable." He was still speaking slowly, and she realized that he was weighing each of his words out carefully, trying to say the right thing. He was mad, but he was trying, for her. "I'm sorry, Morgue. It's not you. I'm just not ready for marriage."

"Yes!" whispered Beth triumphantly.

"But, Beth-" began Launchpad, then he looked down at her and noticed her outfit. "Er..." He trailed off, completely forgetting what he had been saying.

"What?" she said, and noticed herself. "Oh, my... Quick, give me something to put on over this!" He took off his tuxedo jacket and handed it to her, and she promptly enveloped herself in it. Despite the fact that she was obviously mortified, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Oh, well, there were always the wedding pictures to look forward to...

"So, then, you do love me?" asked Morgana.

"Well, I... Of course I do," Darkwing said tenderly. Behind him, Beth let out an expression of pain, but he gave no signs of hearing it. "It's... It's just a hard thing to say, that's all. I'm sorry if I hurt you, Morgana."

"Me, too, Dark. I apologize to all of you," she said, turning to the other three.

Beth was scowling again, but Launchpad grinned a little uneasily and said, "No hard feelin's."

Gosalyn was silent for a long time, and finally she said, "Morgana, if Dad can forgive you, so can I. I can't say I can ever imagine myself calling you Mom, but being a part of your family would definitely be fun." Both Gosalyn's and Morgana's fathers looked a little disturbed by the implication. She smiled, and Morgana returned the smile warmly.

"You did the right thing by setting us free," said Darkwing.

"I know," beamed Morgana. "Oh, Dark, let's...let's not get married!"

"Is that really what you want?" asked Darkwing excitedly. She nodded. Taking her hands, he cried, "Oh, Morgue, I'll love you forever!"

"You've made me the happiest ghoul in the world!" exclaimed Morgana, and kissed Darkwing passionately. The entire audience broke into applause, except two people.

Beth and Launchpad stood sobbing, for two totally different reasons. "Wh-What's wrong?" Beth managed between sobs.

"I always cry at weddings," said Launchpad. He sniffed. "What's wrong with you?"

"Uh," said Beth as she wiped her eyes. "Same thing." Love is a beautiful thing, she realized.

"Shall we dance?" asked Morgana. Darkwing nodded in assent. Morgana snapped her fingers and a waltz started up out of nowhere. The rows of seats seemed to almost melt away as they danced together, and soon there was nothing but a large empty dance floor.

After watching Morgana and Darkwing for a little while, Launchpad turned to Beth and said, "Uh, wouldja care to dance?"

She smiled, weakly but sincerely. "Sure," she said. He took her hand and began to lead her out onto the dance floor. "Oh, heck," said Beth, making a last minute decision. "This jacket'll just get in the way." She slid her arms out of his tux jacket, hesitantly at first, and then more self-assuredly. She then tossed it into the corner and smiled at him. He grinned back brilliantly, willing himself not to stare, and took her hand.

The other guests watched this display with mixed emotions. There were those who did not approve, but at the same time there were those who were delighted, and reminded of their early days of magicking. After some time, those guests stood and joined the dancing, reliving their memories, and finding a lost youth in the love coming from the non-bride and groom. All in all, for many, it was the best wedding they'd been to in centuries.

Next: Night of the Living Henny! An experience in horror... :P

Copyright Rebecca Littlehales, 1996. Beth Webfoot created by me, R. Littlehales; all other characters are owned by Disney and are used without permission. This story may be duplicated as long as it is not sold or altered in any form. In other words, you can make lots and lots of copies, go up into a helicopter, and drop them from the sky while shouting: "YEEK! It's raining paper! Look out, it's the end of the world!" I tried it, it's REALLY fun. But if you'd rather just read the story, I can understand that... You can get nosebleeds up in copters like that.