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The Wanderer - 145
🕑 Added 2023-01-18 19:11:25 +0000 UTC[A/N: Hey guys, sorry that I didn't upload a chapter yesterday. There was a minor familial emergency that I had to take care of, so I didn't have time. Still, everything is back on track now and I finished up on the chapter. Enjoy!]
Chapter 145 – Funeral
[2009 – September]
Having sensed the obvious respect and a willingness to please Elijah and her from the people that had been arranged to welcome them simply because of her love's surname, had been a somewhat strange experience for Jean.
And while she had been a bit blindsided by this, Elijah had reacted calmly to such treatment. He had exuded this natural sense of strength and authority without it coming off as overbearing.
He was very similar to Emma in this aspect, as they both had this focus and determination about them that just gave them compelling control over their own presence.
The difference between them was that Emma achieved this through her great mental discipline and her years of experience when it came to social interactions, while Elijah just naturally seemed to be in control of himself, which didn't mean that he was any less disciplined than Emma. If anything, the opposite was the case.
He had this strange charm about him that caused his whole demeanor to exude a sense of undeniable inner strength and extraordinary focus, and Jean had to admit that she found this to be one of her love's most attractive qualities.
Leaning on him as they walked up to the small chapel, Jean drew on his strength, and his warmth.
A large wooden double door served as the entrance to the church and one of the doors had been left open for those attending the funeral service.
There already were a lot of people present in the small church. At a first glance, Jean guessed the number of attendees to be at least eighty.
Next to the door, a small table was set up with a black wooden box, a slit on top of it. It was obviously prepared for monetary donations to the family.
Turning towards her love, Jean slipped her hand beneath Elijah's jacket, caressing his chest through the black fabric of his shirt for just a moment before taking out the envelope that he had carried in the inner pocket of his black jacket.
Inside the envelope was a card that expressed their sympathy for the family's loss and three hundred dollars in cash.
She knew that this was around three times the amount one would generally give when it came to funerals for non-blood-related people, but since they did not lack money she had wanted to give a bit more.
Pulling Elijah along by his hand, they took their seat in one of the rows at the back and waited silently for the service to start, her head resting comfortably on her love's shoulder as they did so.
…
The whole service took nearly three hours as it wasn't just the priest and family members that made a short speech, a few colleagues also said their piece.
Gwen naturally said a few words, though she choked up a few times while wiping away her tears. Her grief and pain were obvious to see but I also knew that part of it was because she was heartbroken that Peter didn't show up.
Still, my focus rested on Jean who held onto my hand tightly while resting her head on my shoulder, a few silent tears falling from her eyes. I knew instinctively that she didn't shed those tears in response to Gwen's loss, which made me believe that they were related to her mother.
Raising my free hand to her face, I brushed away her tears before I gently cradled her cheek and placed a kiss on her temple, silently comforting her as we continued to listen to the different speakers.
After everyone that had wanted to speak had done so, the coffin was carried outside and placed into the grave. Those that brought flowers then had the chance to throw them into the grace, which was only a few close friends and family members.
The last step was the actual burying of the coffin as two men in raincoats, whom I assumed to be from the funerary staff, started to fill up the grave with earth.
It was at this point that most went and said their condolences to the family, and Jean and I were no exceptions as we walked up to Gwen and did exactly that.
The blonde seemed surprised yet thankful that we came, and after Jean gave her a quick hug, we said our goodbyes and left. I knew that there would be a wake after this but since we weren't that close to Gwen, Jean and I had no plans to impose ourselves.
I had also sensed Peter arrive some time ago to watch over Gwen from his spot on the roof of the church, and I knew that Jean had taken notice of him too.
Still, neither of us had said anything to Gwen as what was between her and Peter was not something that we wanted to meddle in.
We didn't take the car to leave the cemetery though, as Jean wanted to take a walk. So I slipped our driver a large bill and sent him on his way before taking Jean's hand and walking with her in a random direction.
We didn't speak but I could feel that there was something on her mind, which was made even more obvious due to the way she clung to me while I held up the umbrella.
Eventually, we came across a small pavilion on our way to leave the cemetery and Jean pulled me along as she took a seat on the stone bench beneath.
I placed the umbrella on the ground and sat sideways on the bench, one leg on each side, my arms wrapped around Jean's waist as she snuggled close.
Arya, who had up until this point been hiding inside the collar of my coat, also took the chance to pop out her head now that we had reached a semi-dry place. She hooted quietly while rubbing her head against my neck, making it known that she was much more comfortable now that she wasn't at risk of getting wet.
Jean smiled faintly as she reached up and took the tiny featherling into her hands, holding Arya close to her chest while she softly stroked her small wings and rubbed her little fluffy cheeks, causing the tiny owl to close her eyes in deep comfort while hooting softly.
We sat there for a few minutes, the falling rain forming a veil that isolated us from the world.
Seeing as Arya was about to fall asleep under her gentle ministration, Jean reached up and helped the tiny owl to settle down inside my collar again. I could feel Arya lightly pinch my skin with her tiny beak and a soft smile drew up the corners of my lips involuntarily.
I knew that this was her way of kissing me goodnight, so I used our mental connection to wrap her fragile mind with my own, transmitting my love and care for her through my thoughts.
Laying her head to rest on my shoulder after she was done with Arya, Jean's hands moved under my coat as she sought my warmth while addressing me quietly.
“Your mother, after she died, did you bury her?”, she asked with a whisper.
I was a bit surprised at this question as I basically never talked about my parents with Jean.
Partly, this was because my recollections of my biological mother in this life were rather scarce. While there was also the fact that I had lost my original family the moment that I had awakened in this world, which was naturally a painful subject for me. I may not have experienced the death of my parents but I had lost them either way.
And yet, the worst wasn't that I had lost them but that every time that I thought about them, I realized that my relationship with them had been rather broken even before my death and that there was nothing that I could do to make up for those regrets now.
"No, I had her cremated according to her wishes and then scattered her ashes in the ocean.", I replied, remembering the details of 'my' mother's funeral, "Her parents had already passed away when she was young and she didn't have any siblings, so I didn't arrange for a service to be held. It was a rather solitary and formal affair."
“Did you say your goodbyes when you scattered her ashes?”, Jean continued to ask, her head laying on my chest.
Not answering, I closed my eyes for a moment as I rested my cheek on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her flaming hair while I answered her: “No, but maybe I should have.”
Moving back a bit, Jean turned her head to look up at me with glittering eyes as she voiced out: "I never got the chance to say goodbye to my mother. I don't even know where she is buried."
She looked so delicate at this moment, her voice barely a whisper that was nearly drowned out by the 'pitter patter' of the falling rain.
Looking into her sad green eyes, I moved my hand up to caress her cheek and stroke her hair: "It's not too late to say your goodbyes, Firefly. We can find out where she was buried and visit her if that is what you want."
Eyes lighting up with tender love, Jean stretched her neck a bit until her lips fell onto mine for a feather-light kiss before she buried her head back in my chest, moving as close as possible as she whispered: "I would love that."
Comments
Willskys
Thanks!
Alkole
I love the way he calls her firefly
