Disclaimer: I make no claim of ownership on Corpse Bride. And I am very sorry if the formatting is weird. Blame this website.
He stared at the tiny figurine. Victoria looked cheerful today.
The young man frowned. No, no, that wasn't right. Today wasn't such a happy day. It was a bit of a frightening day for Victor Van Dort.
Victor was supposed to meet his fiancée today.
Almost instinctively, his right hand rose to correct the mistake. Victoria's head was straightened, her face lowered to the ground.
Her delicate white hands were crossed in front of her, her left clutching, as always, a miniscule flower with blue petals.
At last, with meticulous precision, the young man slightly tilted her head so he could see Victoria's smile.
Victor smiled as well. His doll's feelings would always mirror his own, but as long as she was encouraging him, he would be able to go on.
Victor had been given the little doll when he was very young. Not being a terribly creative child at the time, he had instantly named her Victoria. There was something in the small melancholy grey-haired doll that reminded him of himself.
Ever since then, he had expressed himself through Victoria. There was never a time when Victor felt any strong emotion that it wasn't reflected by Victoria.
"VICTOR! For heaven's sakes, get down here!"
Victor sighed, and stood up.
He gave Victoria one last look as he exited the room.
"I wish you were alive." he murmured.
As he climbed into the carriage, upstairs on the desk, Victoria seemed to move her head just the tiniest bit up
Victor squirmed as his mother jabbed her finger into his cravat for what seemed to be at least the twelfth time. "And another thing! Always standing that way, look like you've got rickets or somethi-"
At that choice moment, the Swanton's butler opened the door.
Mrs. Van Dort quickly swallowed her criticism, replacing it with a false smile as she dragged her husband and son inside.
The butler sniffed and slammed the door behind the Van Dorts so loudly that Victor jumped, to the displeasure of his parents.
Choosing to ignore the faux pas, Victor's mother proceeded to loudly praise the Swanton mansion.
"Oh, my! Such taste, such grandeur!"
"Er, actually, it's not quite as big as our place." His father said quietly. "In fact, rather drafty…"
Mrs. Van Dort whacked her husband soundly with her fan. "Be quiet!" she hissed.
It was then that Victor noticed Mr. Swanton at the head of the stairs.
It had been briefly explained to him that Mr. Swanton was not an aristocrat, although he had some distant relatives who were, which was enough to boost the Van Dorts into 'fine society'. In fact, George and Emily Swanton still had quite a lot of money on their hands, even after the sad demise of Elizabeth Swanton, Emily's mother. Apparently, Mr. Swanton was greedy enough to marry off his only daughter simply for the sake of getting a little more money.
So Victor was to marry Emily.
He was informed that she had been taught to sing, dance, and play the piano. In theory, that sounded very nice, but Victor just hoped she was a kinder person than her father, who had an enormous grin on his face as the Van Dorts approached.
'Smiling' did not suit Mr. Swanton very much. His rather frightening smirk took up much of his face, and made his greedy little pig eyes almost seem to bulge out of their sockets.
"Ah, welcome, welcome!" He greeted, while the nasty grin stayed on his face. "Welcome, to our humble abode!"
After not too long, Victor began to tune out what the three scheming parents were discussing, choosing instead to take his own look around what he could see of the mansion.
It was, indeed, rather grand, as his mother had said, and rather drafty as well, as his father had said. The entire room was covered in gaudy red paint with gold swirls, while multiple portraits with small golden labels adorned the walls.
The young man squinted at these labels, but he could find none that read 'Emily Swanton'. Another thought occurred to Victor. What if she took after her father?
He didn't think himself particularly shallow, but it would still be rather frightening to be married to a short overweight little woman. Well, as long as she was nice…
Victor's head jerked up as he noticed a distant melody being played on a piano. It was fairly simple, probably only being played with one hand, since he didn't hear any accompaniment. Nevertheless, it was rather pretty.
Glancing around to make sure his parents and Mr. Swanton were well away, he began to quietly walk towards the direction of the music.
Once he reached the end of a hallway, the melody was at its most distinct. Victor shyly poked his head around the doorway of the room it was surely coming from.
Sitting at the piano stool was a woman, around his age, perhaps a little older. Her right hand was plucking out the mournful tune. She wore a light blue dress, and her dark brown hair hung limply around her shoulders.
It had to be Emily Swanton.
He stood awkwardly by the door, fiddling with his tie. Victor really wasn't sure what to say. She seemed so…aloof. Was he allowed to even be in this room? Perhaps he should leave.
At that moment, she tilted her head up and began to sing alongside the piano.
"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain. In the ice or in the sun it's all the same-"
It was then that Victor's talent for clumsiness kicked in. In the process of taking another step forward, he somehow managed to trip over the rug and land in a noisy heap on the floor.
Emily spun around on the seat, and her eyes went wide when she saw him attempting to get up.
"Oh, dear. Was my singing that bad?"
As he brushed off his tie, Victor looked confused. "Er, no. It was actually…rather lovely."
Emily beamed. "Thank you. It's a rather morbid song though- one of my more bitter aunts wrote it." She laughed.
He was still a little confused. "Er- you're Miss Swanton… aren't you?"
She smiled again. "Yes. You must be Victor Van Dort." Her head tilted curiously in an eerie reminder of the way Victoria stood on his desk. "I heard that you play as well."
Victor was horrified. "N-n-no.' He stuttered. "What I mean is- er, not really, t-that is to say, I-"
"Oh, well, all right." Emily sighed. "I suppose if you don't play, you don't play. It's quite all right. It would have been nice if you did, though."
Now he felt guilty. This relationship wasn't starting very well at all. Victor swallowed hard, and plucked up his courage. "I do play….a little." he whispered faintly.
Unfortunately, she didn't hear him. Emily resumed playing her sad tune on the piano.
Victor swallowed again, and walked right up to the piano. When she paused for a moment, he played back the same melody with a little accompaniment by his left hand.
She looked up in surprise, and repeated the melody, adding an ending this time.
Once again plucking up his courage, Victor played a completely different melody with both hands at his end of the piano.
Emily beamed, and began to play her own version of the new tune at the lower end, while he repeated his part, this time a little louder so that it could still be heard next to Emily's loud tones.
This went on for a minute or so, until one of her hands slid up the keyboard in a dramatic flourish that startled the pair.
She giggled. "Pardon my enthusiasm."
"I like your enthusiasm." Victor said shyly.
A gasp came from the doorway.
"What impropriety is this!" Emily's father boomed. "You two shouldn't be alone together! Come on! We'll be late to the wedding rehearsal!"