FIC: 'Til Death Do Us Part
Title: 'Til Death Do Us Part
Author: twilights_blue
Rating: PG
Warnings: Descriptions of death
Word Count: 2.326
Summary: “I wish to court your eldest daughter,” Matthew said once more. “I wish to court Catherine, with the hopes of having her become my wife.”
Author's notes: Second entry for brigits_flame. Written over the course of three days, though the ending was a rushed write.
The master and mistress of the Everett family stared at their visitor with blank disbelief. They held themselves tensely, as if prepared to flee at the next opportunity. After a minute of silence, which was necessary for recollecting themselves, both master and mistress relaxed, and their faces took on polite - if guarded - visages.
“I am sorry,” Master Everett said to their visitor, “but I do not think Mistress Everett and I heard you correctly.”
“I wish to court your eldest daughter,” Matthew said once more. “I wish to court Catherine, with the hopes of having her become my wife.”
“How do you know that you wish to pursue our daughter?” Mistress Everett asked. “You have only seen each other at gatherings, and even then at a distance.”
“Quite right, my lady,” Master Everett said. Turning back to Matthew, he said, “Neither of you have spoken to the other. How can a courtship begin when the foundation is missing?”
“We have spoken,” Matthew replied. “In the evening, when the house has gone to bed, we have spoken through a crack in her window. I know her well, and believe that she is suited for me.”
Master Everett went pale upon hearing this. “You have seen our daughter without an escort?” he sputtered.
Matthew shook his head. “Though we have talked long hours into the night, I have never seen her. She refused to open the window any wider than a crack; all I have experienced of her is her voice.”
Master Everett relaxed, but only just. Fixing Matthew with a piercing look, he said, “You are sincere of your intentions? You truly do wish to court, and possibly marry, our Catherine.”
“Yes.”
The Everetts exchanged glances, before turning their attention to Matthew once more. “Would you excuse us, please?” Mistress Everett asked. “We have to discuss this matter amongst ourselves for a moment. You may wait outside the door.”
Matthew did as he was told, leaving the study and standing just outside the doors that closed behind him. The doors were thick, and even when he leaned against it he could only make out muffled snippets of the conversation occurring within. From what Matthew could tell, Mistress Everett was alright with the courtship. Master Everett, however, was against it.
“It would be good for her to get out of this house, to be with people she enjoys,” Mistress Everett argued.
“You know the dangers of letting her out into the world,” Master Everett snapped back. “There is only one way this will end, and it will be disastrous.”
“Matthew already wants to wed Catherine, and he’s only heard her voice. Doesn’t that say something about his character?”
“He says that now, but once he sees-“
“He will accept it. I know he will.”
Silence. Then, with a resigned sigh: “Very well. If this is to happen, though, we must add a stipulation…”
The conversation dropped to a lower register, and Matthew was unable to parse what was being said. He pressed his ear to the door, but to avail. The next time he was able to pick up the thread of the conversation, Mistress Everett was agreeing to whatever Master Everett had proposed. Sensing that the conversation was about to end, Matthew scrambled away from the door and feigned interest in a painting hanging a little farther down the hall. A second later the door cracked open, and Master Everett looked out into the hall. Seeing Matthew, he stepped all the way out of the study and beckoned the younger man closer.
“We have decided to give you our blessings,” Master Everett said, his smile thin as a blade. “However, we must place one limitation on your courtship: you are not allowed to see Catherine’s face until your wedding night, if it is ever to occur.”
“Agreed,” Matthew said, overjoyed from getting permission from his love’s parents. “It is a small thing, for the chance to win Catherine’s heart.”
“Yes. Please be careful with our daughter’s heart. She is…delicate.”
~*
Matthew called upon Catherine the very next day, eager to begin the courtship. She stood in the foyer, obviously waiting for Matthew, and she hurried over the moment he stepped through the door.
“Oh, Matthew,” she said, “it is wonderful that Mother and Father allowed this.”
“It truly is, my dear,” Matthew said, looking Catherine over. Her clothes were of the finest quality, from the dress that nearly reached the ground to the thick veil that obscured her face. Brushing his hand over the veil, Matthew said, “I see that your parents are serious about me not seeing your face.”
Catherine reached up a glove hand to touch the veil as well. “My parents are … traditional. Does it bother you?”
“Not at all. You know I fell in love with your voice first.” Matthew smiled. “I’ve said that it is like birdsong, and I still hold that to be true.”
The young woman ducked her head. “You are too kind,” she murmured, with just the hint of a smile in her voice.
“I am only telling the truth. Now, shall we go?” Placing a hand on the small of her back, Matthew gently led Catherine out the door. “I was thinking of a carriage ride through the park, followed by a picnic.”
“That sounds lovely. I can’t wait.”
~*
“You’re courting the Everett girl, aren’t you?”
Matthew looked up from the pair of boots he was considering to find the cobbler staring at him. Straightening, he gave the other man a small nod. “I am.”
“Begging your pardon sir,” the cobbler said, “but I think it would be better if you stayed away from that girl.”
Surprised and slightly angered by such instructions, Matthew narrowed his eyes at the cobbler. “Why would you suggest that?”
The cobbler, made uncomfortable by such close scrutiny, fidgeted. “Your family only moved into town a year ago, and so you are not aware of the reputation the Everett family - Catherine especially - has.”
“Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
“The Everetts rarely leave their estate, being more inclined to stay in their manor and hold parties that have people come to them. It started three years ago, when Catherine became very ill. She’s never been seen since.”
Matthew scoffed. “That is foolish. I see Catherine almost every day.”
“Yes, but have you seen her face?” the cobbler asked. “She never leaves the house without her veil. No one’s actually seen her in years. Rumors have it that it’s not actually Catherine under all of that.”
“A peculiar habit, but it is not enough to drive me away,” Matthew said, picking up the boots he had previously been studying and handing them to the cobbler along with the proper amount of coin. “Unless you have anything more substantial than rumors, I believe I will continue my courtship of Catherine.”
“Of course, sir,” the cobbler said, taking the money and wrapping the boots up for Matthew. “I was only trying to be a good man by giving you fair warning.”
“Your efforts are appreciated,” Matthew said. Taking the proffered package, he left the cobbler’s shop. “Good day to you.”
“And to you. Take care with your pursuits, sir, and no harm will come to you.”
~*
Three weeks into the courting, Matthew found Catherine waiting for him in a long, heavy cloak. He was accustomed to the veil that she always wore, but this was a new addition to her outfit. The weather, bright and warm, did not merit the change, and Matthew mentioned such as he escorted Catherine outside.
“I am recovering from an illness, and have yet to shed the chills that accompanied it,” Catherine explained. “I hope it does not interfere with whatever plans you have made for this afternoon.”
Matthew was quick to dispel such an idea. “We are going to see a play. Your cloak shall not be an interference in any way.”
“I am glad.”
Catherine allowed Matthew to help her into the waiting carriage, and Matthew followed right after. Soon enough they were on their merry way.
“Did you know,” Matthew said a few minutes into the ride, “that the townspeople have rumors about your family?”
“I am aware of them. They are baseless words fueled by fools.” Her left hand, which was gripping her purse, tightened its hold. “I do not like to think of them.”
“Then I must apologize for mentioning them,” Matthew said. “I did not mean to cause you distress.”
He reached out to lay a reassuring hand on her right arm, but Catherine shied away before he could touch her. Startled - Catherine had never reacted in such a violent way to his touch before - Matthew jerked back.
A minute of tense silence filled the carriage before Catherine visibly relaxed. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “My arm is injured, and it is not … it still hurts, somewhat.”
“I did not know,” Matthew said, contrite. “I will refrain from touching that arm for the rest of the day.”
“Thank you.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, and as the carriage got closer to town, a small seed of doubt was planted in Matthew’s mind.
~*
There were other things that stood out to Matthew as the weeks continued on. Even after Catherine’s arm had fully healed, and despite saying that the wound itself was superficial, she moved the limb with an air of stiffness that refused to go away. She was also still quite averse to being touched on that arm, even though she said that it no longer pained her.
Another time, when Matthew arrived at the Everett estate earlier than usual, he found Catherine in the process of pulling on her gloves. It was the first time that Matthew had ever seen the young woman’s actual hands. They were slender, graceful, and terribly pale. The nails were a faint purple, which stood out harshly against the nearly-white skin. Before he could mention it, however, the gloves were on, and those horribly pale hands were hidden away once more.
Then there was that veil. Matthew was fully aware of what he promised Master Everett that day when he announced his intentions, but he didn’t actually think that Catherine would be so strict with her father’s instructions. She wore a veil at all times, and never once lifted it even the slightest bit. It was starting to frustrate Matthew, who would urge Catherine to at least show him her mouth and get refused every time, to no end.
Even though these little observations only led to increase Matthew’s doubt, it did nothing to trump the love he felt for Catherine. She was a beautiful woman, from her melodic voice to her brilliant mind to the graceful motions of her hands. Every day he felt himself falling ever more into love with her, and every day a little more of his doubts were swept away.
Then, one fall day, four months after beginning the courtship, Matthew asked Catherine to marry him.
She said yes.
~*
The wedding was extravagant, from the elegant place settings to the exquisite gown the bride wore. The ceremony was flawless, the vows and rings exchanged without a single hitch. The traditional kiss on the lips was replaced with a kiss on Catherine’s hand, in recognition to the thick veil she still wore over her face. It would be removed that night, when bride and groom were alone.
Matthew could barely wait to unveil his bride.
After the ceremony was, of course, the reception. There was plenty of food and drink for all, and the festivities lasted long into the night. Finally, at a very late hour, the guests began to leave, calling out well wishes to the newlyweds as they went. Soon enough, only Matthew and Catherine were left. They retired to their room without further preamble.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Matthew turned to smile at his new wife. “Finally,” he said, “I may look upon your lovely face.”
Catherine docilely clasped her hands together. “I only hope that I am pleasing for you,” she murmured.
Matthew smiled. “You already please me. All that this can do is make my love for you that much stronger.” He gestured at the veil. “May I?”
At Catherine’s nod, Matthew reached up and lightly gripped the veil. He felt the barest flash of foreboding, but he mentally brushed it away. Taking a deep breath, Matthew flipped up the veil and looked at his wife’s face for the first time.
It took all of his strength not to recoil from what he saw.
Catherine’s face was unnaturally pale, to the point of her lips and eyelids being tinged a faint purplish-blue. There appeared to be no muscle beneath her skin, giving her face a sunken, skeletal appearance. Her eyes had the silvery glaze of the long dead.
The young woman reached up to touch her own cheek. “The sickness took my life,” she said, revealing blackened teeth. “My parents struck a deal with a powerful spirit to bring me back to life. Unfortunately, I had already been dead for several days.”
“So,” Matthew said through numb lips, “when you had injured your arm …”
“It had fallen off. It took longer to reattach than usual, due to complications.”
“I see.” Matthew’s voice sounded faint even to his own ears.
Catherine unblinkingly studied her husband’s face. “Do I not please you?”
It took a great amount of effort to get his tongue unstuck. “N-no, you … you do.”
She smiled, and it was like death. “I am glad. You promised to love me forever, and I hope you will still keep that promise.”
Matthew swallowed convulsively. “Yes,” he said weakly.
“’Til death do us part?” Catherine asked, reaching for Matthew’s hand.
Matthew resisted the urge to flinch away, and took his wife’s hand in his own. He forced himself to smile.
“’Til death do us part.”
Author: twilights_blue
Rating: PG
Warnings: Descriptions of death
Word Count: 2.326
Summary: “I wish to court your eldest daughter,” Matthew said once more. “I wish to court Catherine, with the hopes of having her become my wife.”
Author's notes: Second entry for brigits_flame. Written over the course of three days, though the ending was a rushed write.
The master and mistress of the Everett family stared at their visitor with blank disbelief. They held themselves tensely, as if prepared to flee at the next opportunity. After a minute of silence, which was necessary for recollecting themselves, both master and mistress relaxed, and their faces took on polite - if guarded - visages.
“I am sorry,” Master Everett said to their visitor, “but I do not think Mistress Everett and I heard you correctly.”
“I wish to court your eldest daughter,” Matthew said once more. “I wish to court Catherine, with the hopes of having her become my wife.”
“How do you know that you wish to pursue our daughter?” Mistress Everett asked. “You have only seen each other at gatherings, and even then at a distance.”
“Quite right, my lady,” Master Everett said. Turning back to Matthew, he said, “Neither of you have spoken to the other. How can a courtship begin when the foundation is missing?”
“We have spoken,” Matthew replied. “In the evening, when the house has gone to bed, we have spoken through a crack in her window. I know her well, and believe that she is suited for me.”
Master Everett went pale upon hearing this. “You have seen our daughter without an escort?” he sputtered.
Matthew shook his head. “Though we have talked long hours into the night, I have never seen her. She refused to open the window any wider than a crack; all I have experienced of her is her voice.”
Master Everett relaxed, but only just. Fixing Matthew with a piercing look, he said, “You are sincere of your intentions? You truly do wish to court, and possibly marry, our Catherine.”
“Yes.”
The Everetts exchanged glances, before turning their attention to Matthew once more. “Would you excuse us, please?” Mistress Everett asked. “We have to discuss this matter amongst ourselves for a moment. You may wait outside the door.”
Matthew did as he was told, leaving the study and standing just outside the doors that closed behind him. The doors were thick, and even when he leaned against it he could only make out muffled snippets of the conversation occurring within. From what Matthew could tell, Mistress Everett was alright with the courtship. Master Everett, however, was against it.
“It would be good for her to get out of this house, to be with people she enjoys,” Mistress Everett argued.
“You know the dangers of letting her out into the world,” Master Everett snapped back. “There is only one way this will end, and it will be disastrous.”
“Matthew already wants to wed Catherine, and he’s only heard her voice. Doesn’t that say something about his character?”
“He says that now, but once he sees-“
“He will accept it. I know he will.”
Silence. Then, with a resigned sigh: “Very well. If this is to happen, though, we must add a stipulation…”
The conversation dropped to a lower register, and Matthew was unable to parse what was being said. He pressed his ear to the door, but to avail. The next time he was able to pick up the thread of the conversation, Mistress Everett was agreeing to whatever Master Everett had proposed. Sensing that the conversation was about to end, Matthew scrambled away from the door and feigned interest in a painting hanging a little farther down the hall. A second later the door cracked open, and Master Everett looked out into the hall. Seeing Matthew, he stepped all the way out of the study and beckoned the younger man closer.
“We have decided to give you our blessings,” Master Everett said, his smile thin as a blade. “However, we must place one limitation on your courtship: you are not allowed to see Catherine’s face until your wedding night, if it is ever to occur.”
“Agreed,” Matthew said, overjoyed from getting permission from his love’s parents. “It is a small thing, for the chance to win Catherine’s heart.”
“Yes. Please be careful with our daughter’s heart. She is…delicate.”
~*
Matthew called upon Catherine the very next day, eager to begin the courtship. She stood in the foyer, obviously waiting for Matthew, and she hurried over the moment he stepped through the door.
“Oh, Matthew,” she said, “it is wonderful that Mother and Father allowed this.”
“It truly is, my dear,” Matthew said, looking Catherine over. Her clothes were of the finest quality, from the dress that nearly reached the ground to the thick veil that obscured her face. Brushing his hand over the veil, Matthew said, “I see that your parents are serious about me not seeing your face.”
Catherine reached up a glove hand to touch the veil as well. “My parents are … traditional. Does it bother you?”
“Not at all. You know I fell in love with your voice first.” Matthew smiled. “I’ve said that it is like birdsong, and I still hold that to be true.”
The young woman ducked her head. “You are too kind,” she murmured, with just the hint of a smile in her voice.
“I am only telling the truth. Now, shall we go?” Placing a hand on the small of her back, Matthew gently led Catherine out the door. “I was thinking of a carriage ride through the park, followed by a picnic.”
“That sounds lovely. I can’t wait.”
~*
“You’re courting the Everett girl, aren’t you?”
Matthew looked up from the pair of boots he was considering to find the cobbler staring at him. Straightening, he gave the other man a small nod. “I am.”
“Begging your pardon sir,” the cobbler said, “but I think it would be better if you stayed away from that girl.”
Surprised and slightly angered by such instructions, Matthew narrowed his eyes at the cobbler. “Why would you suggest that?”
The cobbler, made uncomfortable by such close scrutiny, fidgeted. “Your family only moved into town a year ago, and so you are not aware of the reputation the Everett family - Catherine especially - has.”
“Then why don’t you enlighten me?”
“The Everetts rarely leave their estate, being more inclined to stay in their manor and hold parties that have people come to them. It started three years ago, when Catherine became very ill. She’s never been seen since.”
Matthew scoffed. “That is foolish. I see Catherine almost every day.”
“Yes, but have you seen her face?” the cobbler asked. “She never leaves the house without her veil. No one’s actually seen her in years. Rumors have it that it’s not actually Catherine under all of that.”
“A peculiar habit, but it is not enough to drive me away,” Matthew said, picking up the boots he had previously been studying and handing them to the cobbler along with the proper amount of coin. “Unless you have anything more substantial than rumors, I believe I will continue my courtship of Catherine.”
“Of course, sir,” the cobbler said, taking the money and wrapping the boots up for Matthew. “I was only trying to be a good man by giving you fair warning.”
“Your efforts are appreciated,” Matthew said. Taking the proffered package, he left the cobbler’s shop. “Good day to you.”
“And to you. Take care with your pursuits, sir, and no harm will come to you.”
~*
Three weeks into the courting, Matthew found Catherine waiting for him in a long, heavy cloak. He was accustomed to the veil that she always wore, but this was a new addition to her outfit. The weather, bright and warm, did not merit the change, and Matthew mentioned such as he escorted Catherine outside.
“I am recovering from an illness, and have yet to shed the chills that accompanied it,” Catherine explained. “I hope it does not interfere with whatever plans you have made for this afternoon.”
Matthew was quick to dispel such an idea. “We are going to see a play. Your cloak shall not be an interference in any way.”
“I am glad.”
Catherine allowed Matthew to help her into the waiting carriage, and Matthew followed right after. Soon enough they were on their merry way.
“Did you know,” Matthew said a few minutes into the ride, “that the townspeople have rumors about your family?”
“I am aware of them. They are baseless words fueled by fools.” Her left hand, which was gripping her purse, tightened its hold. “I do not like to think of them.”
“Then I must apologize for mentioning them,” Matthew said. “I did not mean to cause you distress.”
He reached out to lay a reassuring hand on her right arm, but Catherine shied away before he could touch her. Startled - Catherine had never reacted in such a violent way to his touch before - Matthew jerked back.
A minute of tense silence filled the carriage before Catherine visibly relaxed. “I am sorry,” she said softly. “My arm is injured, and it is not … it still hurts, somewhat.”
“I did not know,” Matthew said, contrite. “I will refrain from touching that arm for the rest of the day.”
“Thank you.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, and as the carriage got closer to town, a small seed of doubt was planted in Matthew’s mind.
~*
There were other things that stood out to Matthew as the weeks continued on. Even after Catherine’s arm had fully healed, and despite saying that the wound itself was superficial, she moved the limb with an air of stiffness that refused to go away. She was also still quite averse to being touched on that arm, even though she said that it no longer pained her.
Another time, when Matthew arrived at the Everett estate earlier than usual, he found Catherine in the process of pulling on her gloves. It was the first time that Matthew had ever seen the young woman’s actual hands. They were slender, graceful, and terribly pale. The nails were a faint purple, which stood out harshly against the nearly-white skin. Before he could mention it, however, the gloves were on, and those horribly pale hands were hidden away once more.
Then there was that veil. Matthew was fully aware of what he promised Master Everett that day when he announced his intentions, but he didn’t actually think that Catherine would be so strict with her father’s instructions. She wore a veil at all times, and never once lifted it even the slightest bit. It was starting to frustrate Matthew, who would urge Catherine to at least show him her mouth and get refused every time, to no end.
Even though these little observations only led to increase Matthew’s doubt, it did nothing to trump the love he felt for Catherine. She was a beautiful woman, from her melodic voice to her brilliant mind to the graceful motions of her hands. Every day he felt himself falling ever more into love with her, and every day a little more of his doubts were swept away.
Then, one fall day, four months after beginning the courtship, Matthew asked Catherine to marry him.
She said yes.
~*
The wedding was extravagant, from the elegant place settings to the exquisite gown the bride wore. The ceremony was flawless, the vows and rings exchanged without a single hitch. The traditional kiss on the lips was replaced with a kiss on Catherine’s hand, in recognition to the thick veil she still wore over her face. It would be removed that night, when bride and groom were alone.
Matthew could barely wait to unveil his bride.
After the ceremony was, of course, the reception. There was plenty of food and drink for all, and the festivities lasted long into the night. Finally, at a very late hour, the guests began to leave, calling out well wishes to the newlyweds as they went. Soon enough, only Matthew and Catherine were left. They retired to their room without further preamble.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Matthew turned to smile at his new wife. “Finally,” he said, “I may look upon your lovely face.”
Catherine docilely clasped her hands together. “I only hope that I am pleasing for you,” she murmured.
Matthew smiled. “You already please me. All that this can do is make my love for you that much stronger.” He gestured at the veil. “May I?”
At Catherine’s nod, Matthew reached up and lightly gripped the veil. He felt the barest flash of foreboding, but he mentally brushed it away. Taking a deep breath, Matthew flipped up the veil and looked at his wife’s face for the first time.
It took all of his strength not to recoil from what he saw.
Catherine’s face was unnaturally pale, to the point of her lips and eyelids being tinged a faint purplish-blue. There appeared to be no muscle beneath her skin, giving her face a sunken, skeletal appearance. Her eyes had the silvery glaze of the long dead.
The young woman reached up to touch her own cheek. “The sickness took my life,” she said, revealing blackened teeth. “My parents struck a deal with a powerful spirit to bring me back to life. Unfortunately, I had already been dead for several days.”
“So,” Matthew said through numb lips, “when you had injured your arm …”
“It had fallen off. It took longer to reattach than usual, due to complications.”
“I see.” Matthew’s voice sounded faint even to his own ears.
Catherine unblinkingly studied her husband’s face. “Do I not please you?”
It took a great amount of effort to get his tongue unstuck. “N-no, you … you do.”
She smiled, and it was like death. “I am glad. You promised to love me forever, and I hope you will still keep that promise.”
Matthew swallowed convulsively. “Yes,” he said weakly.
“’Til death do us part?” Catherine asked, reaching for Matthew’s hand.
Matthew resisted the urge to flinch away, and took his wife’s hand in his own. He forced himself to smile.
“’Til death do us part.”