Alyssa x Morpheus

Wonderland Themed Wedding

        She busies herself about the room I shall no longer call my own; it is rather bland, presently, for all of my belongings have been transferred into the larger room I will be sharing with Morpheus from this day forward. My former wardrobe is propped open; the only garment hanging is the dress I will wear tonight. 

        It is not like any wedding dress I've ever seen; honestly, it's far more simplistic. It is more fitting for such an important occasion to be set in the midst of Wonderland. And while I can't wait to put it on, I'm almost sad; it feels like I'm leaving a part of myself behind. Almost.

         Perhaps I am. But I see it more as shedding a skin; a better part of myself shining through.

        I am distracted from my thoughts as the netherling sent to assist me demands my attention; she is darker skinned than I, with ebony hair that falls to her waist. She looks wild, with a curving form and narrow eyes, high eyebrows that are either painted--or naturally--purple. She reminds me of a feline; either your best, most nurturing friend, or a pesky nightmare that you doubt you'll ever completely rid yourself of. 

        I vow silently to learn what she calls herself; she has been thus far very generous to me. 

        She points to the black lingerie on the bed, laced with red and tantalizing glitter; "I am to help you undress," she begins quietly, her voice drawn out and thick with an accent unknown to me. She is careful with how she speaks, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is a strong figure. Her eyes and general demeanor give her boldness away. 

        "Your ceremony is soon," she nods, pulling her hair over one shoulder before tossing it behind her, eyeing the dress half-hidden. "You--"

        "Ready, you must be!" And there he is, the eerie creature of Wonderland I have grown terribly fond of. I smile at him and make to start towards him in a proper greeting, but my assistant  snatches my wrist, casting a burning glare at Rabid that shoos him away awful quick.

        "Undress," she demands more sternly this time, and I oblige. It will give me time to think on my own, anyway, as she meanders over to prepare the dress.

        My wedding, I think curiously; I've already handled a traditional, human ceremony; this, though...I feel terribly unprepared. Morpheus said that it was far simpler than anything the human realm could dream up, and I do believe him. It's just that there are certain aspects that I'm shy about. 

        Shy isn't the proper word. Maybe I'm being too much of a perfectionist, too much of an artist. I want our first night together to be perfect and lovely; I don't want my own lack of experience to get in the way.

        I haven't voiced this concern to Morpheus. 

        Before I have enough time to come up with some sort of 'plan of action', I have slipped into the lingerie and my dress is looming. The satin falls over my gentle curves, all red crimson. There's an open back, which is perfect for my wings, but also alluring. It reminds me of this land, and I find the thought of being here forever, calming. 

        Though the fabric drags behind me, it hardly covers my knees in the front. My legs show, and movement is easy. Such small things are making breathing more possible.

* * *

       My thoughts are fleeting and impossibly brief; scattered and random and chaotically complete. We've been spinning, spinning and dancing and twirling, for what seems like hours but couldn't have been more than a few moments...right? And it's so beautifully intense. In the madness, I think of faerie lore, how a human caught in their dances would dance until he died; exhausted and absolutely broken; the only think having kept him moving their tantalizing spell.