descent | 𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 [HIATUS]

𝟐𝟐

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓
﹙ 𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐, 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒘𝒐 ﹚
࿐ ࿔ ✧˖*°
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Two funerals in a day were a little too much for Rory, despite the fact that she should've been used to it by now. She decides that she's going to show up to Davina's first—it's a quiet affair, done in the Lafayette Cemetery. Cami's funeral was more so a celebration than anything at the blonde's behest; apparently, Cami's wish was an Irish wake.

Rory appears at the gates of Lafayette Cemetery, a bouquet of flowers held between her fingers. She sees Kol standing at the entrance, waiting for her. He's dressed handsomely in a suit, his hands shoved into his pockets. Rory wears a black dress that stops at her midthighs, her hair in a low ponytail. She approaches Kol slowly, slipping a reassuring hand around his forearm.

"Hi," Rory greets quietly. "How are you feeling?"

Kol doesn't respond verbally. Instead, he lowers his head to press a gentle kiss against Rory's cheek. Rory doesn't have the time to compute what the action meant before he leads her towards Davina's tombstone where Marcel, Vincent and Josh are stood.

Each male gives her a smile, an action that Rory returns. She tightens the grip she has on the flower stems; she doesn't realise that her hands are shaking until Kol takes one of them into his own, intertwining their fingers.

"Let us mourn as we cannot move on until we do," Vincent begins. "And through the pain may at times seem like more than we can bear, make no mistake—we will move on. And even now, the words of Ecclesiasticus are ringing in my ears; they're saying vengeance as a lion shall lie in wait for them."

As Josh steps forward to say his eulogy, Rory notices Marcel's lips pressed together. Pain is written all over his face, his hands clasped together so tightly that the veins in his skin strain under pressure. Rory releases Kol from her grip, placing a hand on Marcel's shoulder.

"Marcel," Rory says softly. Marcel turns his head to meet her gaze. "Let's take a walk."

Marcel turns to the rest of the gatherers, hesitant in leaving them, but they don't reply with an argument. Rory places the bouquet of flowers on Davina's tomb, looping an arm around Marcel's to lead him away from where they were stood.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her," is the first thing that Rory begins with as they walk in solitude. The leaves crunch under the heels on her feet, and when she wobbles on her stilettos, Marcel's hand wraps around her waist to steady her. "She was a young girl, and I wouldn't wish what happened to her on anyone."

"You shouldn't have to be the one apologising," Marcel mutters in response. He doesn't meet her gaze, staring straight ahead. "I know that you did what you could."

"Elijah, he—"

"—You don't have to explain. I know just how difficult it is to save someone you love from the hands of a determined Mikaelson," Marcel interjects with a sigh. Rory nods her head, looking down at the ground. "Words...they aren't good. In a situation like this, it can't be settled with words."