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NEVER UNDERESTIMATE A DAUGHTER'S GRIEF..
IT CAN ACCOMPLISH MANY GREATER THINGS..
IT CAN BEND KINGDOM'S FROM THE INSIDE...
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boun·ty
/ˈboun(t)ē/
noun
1. a sum paid to encourage trade.
"Calling him...
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"THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF, IT ALWAYS REPEATING ITSELF.."
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SUNRISE, BLACKWATER BAY.
Holding onto her parent's hand, she silently stands at their sides, letting her Uncle's words ring loudly in her mind. 'From the sea we came, to the sea we return.' It was the second time she had heard this. Shutting her eyes tightly, her bottom lip trembles as she stares at Laenor's coffin, the carving of his face. So fresh, so new. It was barely carved last night, which only made her feel even worse. They should have never had to carve it so soon. So soon after Laena. The gods were being cruel now. What did she do to deserve this? What did her parents do to deserve this?
Shutting her eyes tightly, she leans her head against her Father's arm, her hand gripping tightly onto the sleeve of his tunic. He smelt of bitter sea salt and sweet water lotus. A comforting smell, but it's not enough to calm her. Opening her eyes, she watches as Laenor's coffin slips over the edge, joining Laena's at the bottom of the ocean. Fresh tears stream down her face as the coffin rapidly sinks below the waves. Twice she had been in this position. Twice she had to bury her siblings. It wasn't fair. Sniffling softly, her bottom lip trembles as the lump in her throat thickens.
"Mama.." She calls, holding her hand out for her Mother to take.
"My sweet girl..My strong boy.." Her Mother's lips quiver, "Gone..Gone too soon.."
"Mama, please don't cry." She whispers, tears streaming down her face.
"Your siblings..My babies.." Her Mother's voice trails off at the end, her eyes glossy with tears.
Pulling away from her Father just enough to grasp her Mother's hand, she watches as her Mother removes her veil. Her puffy eyes and quivering lips on display to everyone. Letting go of the vein, Jocelyn watches the black veil flow in the wind, flying farther and farther away from them. She had never despised a color before. Sure, there were some that were not her favorite. But, she never despised a color until now. She hated black. She had seen too much of it for her liking in the last few days. Grasping onto her Mother's hand, she could feel eyes on her, burning into her.
"They are all waiting for you." Uncle Vaemond whispers, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"I..I can't.." She whispers, shaking her head.
"Your parents don't have the strength to do it. Not so soon after Laena. You have to be the one to do it, Jocelyn." He urges, "Gather your strength."
"I..I.." She whimpers, hiccuping.
"You are a strong girl, Jocelyn. You can do this." He whispers, "Hold your head up high. Take a deep breath. Now, do it.."
Chewing on her bottom lip, she stares at the wreath of baby's-breath, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Laenor always adorned those flowers. He always said that on the day she was born, he had found a freshly blossoming wreath of baby's-breaths. So whenever he saw a baby's-breath, it reminded him of her. Looking at her parents, their eyes are glossy with tears, their lips slightly quivering as they hold back sobs. She had to be strong. For them. For Laenor. Turning to her Uncle Vaemond for confirmation, he nods softly, motioning for her to approach.
