DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything related to "Corpse Bride" or its characters.

The Cravat Pin

It was already quarter past seven, and Victor couldn't find his diamond cravat pin.

He kept all of his cuff links and cravat pins in the topmost drawer of his bureau, but for some reason the pin wasn't in with the rest. Since he didn't wear any of his jewelry all that often, Victor had no idea where this particular piece could have got to.

Victor grumbled to himself as he rifled through the other drawers of the bureau, and then the drawer of his nightstand. He needed that cravat pin. Victoria had given it to him for his birthday a month ago, and he wanted to wear it tonight.

It was a special occasion, after all. Victor and Victoria had been married for a full year. In honor of their anniversary, Victor's parents were hosting a party at their home in the village. That meant a half-hour carriage ride for Victor and Victoria, since their newly completed home sat toward the outskirts of the town, near the church. The festivities, which were going to begin at eight, were to consist of a dinner with musical entertainment afterward. And of course, the time in between dinner and music would be devoted to the respective in-laws staring at one another in icy silence. After all, it was a family party--and Van Dort-Everglot family "parties" always meant a lot of icy stares. No wonder there had only been two such family get-togethers over the past year. It was about as much as all of them could take. Still, Victor hoped the party would at least be bearable. Despite the fact that his mother was sure to go garishly overboard with everything from the floral arrangements to her conversation to the food, resulting in Victoria's mother tossing out several thinly veiled insults. And the fact that Victoria's father would probably mention what a ninny Victor was at least a dozen times. And, of course, Victor's father was sure to inquire just a bit too loudly about why there weren't any grandchildren in the offing yet. But none of that mattered. What was important was the purpose of the party itself--the celebration of Victor and Victoria's yearlong marriage.

And Victor needed that cravat pin.

Hands on hips, Victor stood in the middle of his bedroom, thinking. Where could it possibly have got to? He hadn't worn it since his birthday. Feeling rather desperate, Victor got down on his hands and knees to look around on the floor. Well this is a bit silly, he thought as he crawled toward the bed. If I'd dropped it on the floor, I surely would have stepped on it by now. Still, Victor peeked under the bed itself. It wasn't entirely unlikely for the pin to have wound up under there--after all, that's where Victoria had finally found her stockings after she'd given him his other birthday present.

After a few more minutes of searching, Victor had to admit defeat. The pin was nowhere to be found. Sighing, he pulled himself to his feet, brushing the dust off of his pants.

"Victoria?" Victor called. He listened. No answer. He walked over to the door that joined Victoria's room to his, and rapped gently. "Victoria?"

"Come in, Victor!" Victoria called from her room.

"I don't mean to bother you, darling," Victor said as he walked into his wife's room, "but I seem to have lost that cravat pin you gave me." When he entered, Victor could see himself reflected in the mirror of Victoria's vanity table. This black suit makes me look almost anemic, he thought as he looked at his reflection. The red cravat helped a little in adding some color, but still...Victor tugged at the bottom of his jacket, as though that might help his complexion.

"The diamond one?" Victoria asked. She was sitting at her vanity table, her back to him, fixing a diamond brooch to the high collar of her dress. Victor took a moment to look at her before he answered. Victoria's evening dress didn't look all that different from the striped one she wore so often, except that this particular dress was deep red in color, a shade that looked quite nice on Victoria. No flounces on the hem, either, Victor noticed. And...oh goodness. The sleeves--they only went down to the middle of her forearm. How daring, Victor thought. Her mother is going to go into conniptions. Just looking at her, Victor was rather close to conniptions himself. Finished with the brooch, Victoria turned to look at him.

"You look...beautiful, Victoria," Victor said. He meant it, too. After a year of living with her, Victor had grown somewhat accustomed to what Victoria looked like. He was surprised every time he noticed again how pretty she was.

Victoria smiled, looking pleased. "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself--that red cravat suits you." She paused, and tugged at one of her sleeves. "You don't think my sleeves are too terribly short, do you?"

"No, no, not at all," Victor replied. Truth be told, he rather liked being able to see Victoria's wrists, but of course he'd never say so aloud. Instead he said, "They...er, make your arms look longer." One thing Victor had learned over the past year--being married to a woman hardly cured one of saying completely inane things to her. Luckily Victoria didn't seem to mind. Maybe she found it endearing.

"Oh...I suppose that's a good thing," Victoria said. She stretched her arms out in front of her, as though testing the effect of the sleeves. "You're right, my arms do look longer." Both of them looked at Victoria's arms again--Victoria a bit critically, and Victor all admiration. After a moment of being quite distracted by Victoria's semi-bare arms, Victor remembered what he'd come looking for.

"You haven't seen my cravat pin, have you?" he asked, somehow managing to peel his gaze from her wrists. "You know the one--it matches your brooch."

"Oh, yes, of course. It's in my jewel-safe." Victoria turned back to the mirror and began pinning an unruly strand of hair back into place.

Victor knitted his eyebrows. "Why is it in there?" he asked, perplexed.

Victoria looked at him in the mirror. "Don't you remember? You asked me almost the moment I gave it to you to keep it with my jewelry, since you don't have a jewel-safe of your own. You said you didn't want anything to happen to it." Victor nodded slowly.

"Oh yes, I remember...I think..." Victor was surprised when Victoria laughed quietly. "What? What's funny?"

She coughed to cover her laughter. "Nothing. Only that it occurs to me that your mind was probably...elsewhere when I gave you the pin." Victor stared for moment at Victoria's face in the mirror before he realized what she was talking about. Immediately he began to blush, and he gave his cravat a tug.

"Victoria!"

"Yes?"

Now Victor couldn't help smiling. "Nothing," he replied. Over the past year, Victoria had proven that she possessed a decidedly...interesting sense of humor. Nothing seemed to amuse her more than making Victor blush. Not to say that Victor minded--quite the contrary.

"Where is your jewel-safe?" he asked finally, watching Victoria fix a comb into her hair.

"It's in the bottom drawer of my wardrobe, on the left," she answered. "Just a moment, I can get it for you..."

"Oh no, it's all right, I'll get it," Victor said. He walked over to the wardrobe, which sat between the windows on the opposite side of the room. Kneeling, he pulled open the bottom drawer as directed, and glanced over the contents. Since he had pretty much been given permission, Victor didn't feel as though he were snooping. Not much, anyway.

"On the left, Victor," Victoria said again. "It's under that pile of handkerchiefs." Victor nodded, noticing the handkerchiefs on one side of the drawer. As he was reaching toward them, he spied something else. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in what looked like parchment paper, and was rather bulky. Curiosity soon got the better of Victor. It could be my anniversary present, he thought. Taking a glance over his shoulder to make sure Victoria wasn't watching, Victor picked up the paper-wrapped bundle. It didn't have his name on it. Maybe Victoria just hadn't gotten around to properly wrapping it yet.

"What is this?" Victor asked, unwinding the paper. His eyes widened as he looked at what fell into his hands. A bouquet. Roses, lilies, baby's breath--all slightly rotted and turned to a uniform blue. Gingerly, not wanting to crush the fragile flowers, Victor turned the bouquet over. Surely it couldn't be...

"What is what, Victor?" Victoria asked in return, still not looking at him. Victor didn't reply, not sure if he wanted to admit to snooping in Victoria's belongings. Part of him wanted to put the bouquet back and think nothing more of it, but some other part of him wanted to know. The latter part won, maybe against better judgment.

"Victoria...You kept this?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Kept what, Victor? I...oh," Victoria trailed off as she looked at the bouquet, then at Victor, who was still crouching in front of the wardrobe. She got up from her vanity table and walked over to him. Kneeling on the floor next to him, Victoria folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze on the dead flowers.

"Yes, of course I kept it," she said quietly. "It seemed...wrong to throw it away."

Victor didn't know what to say. He knew, on some level, that he and Victoria were quite overdue for a discussion about Victor's former bride. It wasn't exactly an easy topic to bring up, however. Or to discuss. So Victor stayed silent, trying to sort out his thoughts.

Victoria reached over and gently took Victor's hand in hers. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, and they both spent a long moment gazing at the dead flowers.

"You were snooping," Victoria said in an even tone. When Victor started to fidget and attempt to stammer an apology, Victoria spoke again. "Never mind, it doesn't matter," she said. Victor was quiet, still feeling a bit guilty.

"What was her name?" Victoria asked, much to Victor's surprise.

"Emily," Victor replied after a moment. "Her name was Emily."

"A very pretty name."

"Yes, a very pretty name."

"I owe her quite a bit, you know," Victoria said in a reflective tone.

"What do you mean?"

Victoria gave a tiny shrug. "She did save your life, Victor."

"Yes, she did." Victor held Victoria's hand a little tighter, and then handed her the bouquet. Victoria held it almost reverently. Even though she was keeping her gaze from his, Victor could tell that Victoria was beginning to get a little misty-eyed. He took his hand from hers and put his arm around her, blinking a little to clear his own eyes.

Victoria held the bouquet in her lap. She sniffed before she said, "It was terrible, what happened to her. Just so...terribly wrong, and unfair." Victor nodded his agreement. Victoria continued, "I owe her for another reason as well, though."

"What is that?"

"Well...I think I owe her the life that was taken from her," Victoria said. "It was wrong, what happened to her. And I've promised myself that I'd live out my life--our life together, Victor--in honor of her." She paused when Victor didn't respond. "You must think me ridiculous," she finally said.

"No, not at all," Victor replied. "I think it's lovely, actually." And he did.

"Were you...Did you care for her, Victor?" Victoria asked suddenly. She didn't sound accusatory or jealous--merely curious. She also, Victor noted, sounded as though she'd been wanting to ask that question for some time. Victoria turned her head to look up into Victor's eyes. The warm wave that Victor had come to know so well after a year of marriage washed over him again as he looked into Victoria's eyes. He had been slightly apprehensive about answering that question, should it ever come up. But looking at Victoria now, Victor knew he could tell the truth.

"I was fond of her, Victoria, I will not lie to you." Victor paused, wondering if perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. Victoria nodded. What she meant by that nod, Victor wasn't entirely sure. So he decided to continue.

"As fond of her as I was," Victor said, "It was completely different from what I felt for you. I am much more than simply fond of you, and I always have been. Had I...I mean..." Victor was growing a bit uncomfortable. He swallowed a few times, trying to put words to what he wanted to say. Victor had been crushed, learning of Victoria's marriage. He imagined Victoria had felt much the same way, seeing him standing at the altar with Emily. How could he translate those feelings into words?

Victoria continued to look at him. He couldn't read her expression anymore, but he felt as though he had to go on. This matter had to be got out in the open eventually, and it might as well be now. Victor took a deep breath, and started again.

"I didn't...I didn't know what to do when I found out you'd married someone else," he finally said, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I thought I'd lost you, and--" Victor stopped short, surprised, when Victoria gently took his chin in her hand and made him look at her. She looked very serious.

"I don't need any explanations, Victor," Victoria told him softly, holding his face. "I believe that you love me. You do, don't you?"

Victor laid his hands over Victoria's. "More than anything," he replied. He'd never been more serious about anything in his life.

Victoria dropped her hands to his shoulders and leaned over until her head was nestled against his neck. It was a lovely familiar gesture, one that Victor would never get tired of.

"I believe she's at peace now, wherever she is," Victoria said into his coat. "Things turned out the way they were meant to."

"I believe you're right," Victor replied after a moment. He'd thought the matter through, after all, even though he'd never shared his conclusions with Victoria. A "true love," a marriage in death--that hadn't been what Emily had needed. What she'd needed was the realization that her moment had passed, no matter how unfairly, and that it was finally time for her to be free, to let go. It was nice to know that he and Victoria were of the same mind. He sighed, hugging Victoria to him. "I love you, Victoria."

"And I love you, Victor." Victoria lifted her head, and they smiled at one another. Victor picked up the paper that the bouquet had been wrapped in and handed it to Victoria. Carefully, with precision, Victoria folded the paper around the rotting flowers. When she'd finished, she held the bundle in her hands and looked at it, a small smile on her face.

"Who knows," Victoria said softly, "we all may meet again someday. And I'll be able to thank her properly." Victor smiled as he watched Victoria place the wrapped bouquet back in the drawer. Victoria really is a wonderful woman, he thought to himself. Victor didn't regret at all the way events had unfolded. Victoria was right. Things had turned out the way they were meant to. And Victor thought Emily would be pleased by Victoria's vow to honor her memory. That Victoria could decide to do something like that without ever truly having met Emily, and only having the roughest idea of her story...Well, it was simply more evidence that Victor had, in his own humble opinion, married the best woman the world had to offer.

Suddenly, the clock on Victoria's mantel started to chime the half-hour. Both of them jumped--the mood was effectively killed.

"Seven-thirty already. Victor, we need to be leaving soon," Victoria said. "And I'm afraid I've completely forgotten what it was you came in here looking for."

"My diamond cravat pin," Victor said, quite glad to be back to mundane discussions of jewelry.

"Oh, yes," Victoria said. "It should be here, in my jewel-safe." She reached under the pile of handkerchiefs in the drawer and lifted out a small box that had a combination lock on the top. Opening it, Victoria soon withdrew Victor's cravat pin. She locked and replaced the jewel-safe, and then stood up, Victor quickly following. They both admired the light catching on the diamond for a moment. It matched Victoria's brooch perfectly.

"Here, Victor, let me fasten it for you," Victoria said. Smiling, Victor stood before her and lifted his head a little, giving her better access.

As Victoria tried to judge the exact middle of his silk cravat, Victor found himself replaying the conversation they'd just had. The memories came back one by one. His learning that Victoria had married someone else, which had led to his agreement to join Emily in death. The confrontation with Lord Barkis, learning who the man really was. Barkis. To think that what had happened to Emily could very well have happened to Victoria...Victor could hardly stand thinking about it. He had to suppress a shudder, remembering the evening about a week into their marriage, when he'd seen the ugly bruises that Barkis had left all over Victoria's upper arms. Although it was wicked, Victor had been (and still was) very glad that that man was dead.

And yet...suppose it hadn't been Barkis that Victoria had married? Perhaps someone else? Had she been prepared to cope, he wondered? Though he really already knew the answer--just as Emily would never have been Victoria, no other husband would ever have been Victor. At least, that's what he hoped. Victor decided that since souls were being somewhat bared tonight, he might as well share his own feelings.

"Victoria..."

"Hm?"

"Do you ever...Ever think about, er, Lord Barkis?" As soon as the question was out, Victor wanted it back in.

Victoria froze, and slowly lifted her head to look at him. "You cannot be serious, Victor."

"Well, I mean...It's just that...You did marry the man..."

"Because my parents forced me into it. Do you think I had any say in the matter?" Victoria shook her head. "And then I found out he was a murderer! He tried to kill you, Victor!" she added incredulously.

Victor regretted having said anything. But for some reason his mouth kept going, completely independent of his brain.

"But did you...I mean to say, when you thought I wasn't coming back...Did you ever think that it would work between the two of you? Before you found out about him, I mean." Victor couldn't explain even to himself why the idea of Victoria being with someone else bothered him so much. It was hypocritical, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Victor also felt like quite the cad, especially since Victoria hadn't expressed any jealousy toward Emily. Though it wasn't exactly jealousy that Victor was feeling. He couldn't quite figure out what he was feeling, actually. Or quite what he was talking about. Or, even, why he was talking about it in the first place.

Victoria took a step back, staring at him in a way that seemed to penetrate his mind. "You're not asking what you really want to know, are you, Victor?" She finally asked.

Victor marveled at how well she could read him. He began to tug at his jacket sleeve, wondering how to phrase what he meant.

"It's just...Are you really happy with me, Victoria? You're an Everglot..."

"Was an Everglot," Victoria corrected.

"Well yes...It's just, doesn't it bother you? You did take a step down in status, marrying me." There. It was finally out, the worry that had been in the back of Victor's mind ever since the day he'd met Victoria. He knew that she loved him, and he loved her, but Victoria was an aristocrat. He'd grown up in near poverty, until his father had revolutionized the family business. Victor had wondered more than once exactly why Victoria loved him so much, until he remembered to simply be grateful that she did. Oh, why did I bring this up? he wondered.

Victoria had stopped staring at him, and was focusing again on fastening the cravat pin as she spoke. "Honestly, Victor, you know me. How can you even ask such a thing? I'd rather be Mrs. Van Dort than have a title. And I'd most certainly prefer starving in the streets with you to being Lady Barkis Bittern." She was serious; Victor didn't doubt it for a moment. How could he have doubted her, anyway? Victoria trusted, quite rightly, in his feelings for her, and the very least Victor could do was offer the same courtesy. At least she didn't sound angry with him. The last thing Victor wanted to do was upset Victoria, especially on their anniversary. He decided to go with what had already become a crutch for him in their short marriage: the apology.

"I'm sorry, Victoria, I only..." But Victoria shushed him, laying her fingers gently on his mouth. They looked at one another for a moment. Surprising, how much could be expressed with only a look between them.

"You do not need to have any doubts at all that I am very happy with you, Victor," Victoria said. "And I hope you are just as happy with me." She removed her hand, and gave one final adjustment to his cravat.

He smiled back at her. "Of course I'm happy with you," Victor said. "I haven't any regrets at all."

"I'm glad to hear it," Victoria said. Placing her hands on Victor's chest, she stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss. He returned it gladly, wrapping his arms around her.

They stood that way for quite a while, before another chime of the clock informed them that they were going to be rather late for their anniversary party. Finally they pulled apart.

"Shall we go, then?" Victor asked.

"Yes, I think we should," Victoria replied, crossing over to her bed to pick up her wrap. "Your mother will never forgive us for delaying her party."

"Oh, she'll be all right," Victor said, helping Victoria into her wrap. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Mother's rather tough."

"Is she? I never would have known. She hides beneath such a demure exterior, after all." They laughed as they headed for the door.

Victor opened it and let Victoria pass before him. He offered his arm, which Victoria took with a smile.

"Happy anniversary, darling," Victoria said.

"And to you," Victor replied.

Arm in arm, they started down the staircase.