Bride of Lazarus

4; Settled In

It feels like ages before we reach the top of the stairs. I can't say for certain how many floors, let alone rooms, are in this place... But they're all equally breathtaking from what I've seen. Lazarus guides us to the end of a long and luxurious hallway. It's hundreds of feet filled with gorgeous architecture and fine Victorian touches. The man has a knack for interior design, I think. Or at least, his father did. Mom stops suddenly and I bump into her with a drunken giggle.

"By the gods, Fae," she hisses, "I swear you are tap-dancing on my last nerve."

"I'm sorry! Sheesh." Lazarus straightens out his own smile before opening the last door on the left. Then, he gestures inside at the most beautiful room we've laid eyes on yet. There's gold and fur and marble everywhere you look. Everywhere. When I imagine Valhalla, this is what it looks like.

"This is your room for the night, Mrs. Channing." Mrs? Mom gets this room?!

"M-mine," she stutters. Even mom can't believe her own damn good luck. Lazarus flashes us a smile that makes me feel dirty just for looking.

"Yes, you. There are extra pillows and blankets in the closet." He points toward a walk-in on the east wall as he continues listing amenities. My brain tunes out for a solid minute while I take in all the grandeur of a king sized mattress. My family is fairly well-to-do but... Not king sized kind of well. This is going to take some getting used to. "Rest as long as you like," Lazarus says with a hand on mom's shoulder. "Dinner is at seven. Lorraine is a sensational cook, you'll get to meet her then. And Fae's room is just over here," he points, "across from yours. Do you need anything before I go?" I'm not sure mom is even listening at this point. She's still ogling the walk-in closet.

"Not a thing," she says simply. "Thank you, Lazarus, really. This is... Thank you." Mom gives us both a quick squeeze and tells me that she loves me more than coffee (high praise coming from either one of us). Then, she disappears behind the door, leaving me alone with Lazarus for the first time ever. I swallow hard and the sound echoes.

"Coming?" My cheeks burn from the way the word rolls off of his tongue.

"S-sorry?" I turn around to see him standing ten feet away now, leaning against the doorframe of what he calls 'my room'. Lazarus grins knowingly.

"Are you coming?" Dear Gods... Will I ever stop embarrassing myself in front of this man? I want to bury my face in my hands. Instead, I nod and eke out something along the lines of 'oh, right, yes, my bad, thanks'. I'll get the hang of this talking thing one day.

Lazarus pushes the door open as I approach him cautiously, the way one might approach a stray dog. "I chose this room for you. Only the best for my wife," he says with an enchanting grin. One step closer and my mouth falls open. Pillars, I think. Just like the ones in Rome... Then, my eyes gravitate to a heart shaped basin in the east corner. Because the sun rises in the east and... Yep. There's the giant stained glass window, on the west wall so that you can watch the sunset from the bath. Gods, the guy who built this place really thought of everything. I bet this room looks like a kaleidoscope in the morning.

"You don't sleep here," I ask. Lazarus shakes his head, watching intently as I run my fingers along the cherry wood vanity.

"No. My room is on the first floor." There's so much space, I can't help but to twirl around in it. It's the room every little girl dreams of. And I don't care if I'm not a little girl anymore, I'm going to enjoy it. I catch Lazarus smiling as I come to a slow stop.

"Oh, like you've never done it before." He laughs heartily in response.

"I can assure you, I have never done that." I roll my eyes, planting a finger in the center of his chest.

"Something tells me you could use a little loosening... I'm gonna teach you how to have fun. That is my wedding gift to you."

"I hate to disappoint you but the day I start 'having fun' will be the day that I die. Get some rest, alright? Sleep off some of that whiskey."

"Is that what I was drinking," I hiccup.

"Yes. Very expensive whiskey," he answers. "Now, be a good girl and lie down." Gods, I think, when you put it that way... With the help of Lazarus's rough hands, I make my way to the edge of the bed. Then, to my dismay, I realize I'm trapped in this damn carnival ride of a dress. Just put it on, mom said. You'll look so pretty. Well, look at me now. My useless fingers grope at the laces of the corset until I'm sufficiently frustrated. Then, I whirl around with a huff.

"Why are you just standing there? Help me." Lazarus grins smugly, crossing his tattooed arms over his chest.

"Uh uh," he tuts. "Try that again. How do we ask nicely?" I suck in a long, angry breath in response. Then, I close my eyes and release it.

"Pretty please." Lazarus looks flustered. His emerald eyes reflect a kind of darkness that I want to ask questions about. But the questions quickly scatter as Lazarus whips me around by the waist. With one swift motion, the corset drops and I race to catch it before I'm fully exposed.

"There," he rumbles. Gods, he's quicker than mom. And she had years of experience untying these things, even before I came along... I turn to thank Lazarus for the help but he's already gone. The door closes without so much as a latching sound and I'm alone. Well... I suppose there's nothing to do but rest. For now.