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FANTASY. xix. a closer walk with thee ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
UNFORTUNATELY, EVEN AFTER EVERYTHING Camille had done to savor her uncle's life, the hex had ultimately won. The demons that Father Kieran had fought so hard to suppress had consumed him, the thoughts of his insane-driven mind having overtaken the purity of his heart. It was said that there's insanity within all of us – it just takes a certain amount of pain and misery for one to reach the peak. That's what Kieran had done by the help of a witch. The woman had laid the innocent man on his own painstaking deathbed, and his family and friends were left behind to pick up the pieces.
While she held concern for Camille and her current well-being, Moira couldn't help the unsettling feeling of deja vu. As she paid her respects to Father Kieran's closed coffin, Moira could only think back to the day of her great-grandmother's funeral; she could only think about the discomforting pit that had settled within her stomach, the crack in her heart. It had been one of the hardest days of her life, being forced to let go of someone that had been her own motivation to live. Moira had lost her best friend that day, and things had only worsened from there. That was until she discovered she was with child. Then, all of a sudden, all hope for potential peace and happiness was renewed once again.
For a wake, the music blasting within the well-known restaurant, Rousseau's, was rather upbeat. Perhaps someone had felt the need to lighten the mood – someone that wasn't Camille. The poor girl had yet to be seen, however, while seemingly the rest of New Orleans drank away their supposed sorrows and chatted up one another. Moira could tell the difference between those who'd actually held care for the fallen priest and those that had only attended for the alcohol. Not to mention, the image of a wretched damsel in distress. Surprisingly enough, Klaus Mikaelson appeared to be the former.
The entirety of the drive to the church for the funeral, there had been a heavy silence that hung in the air. It was partially due to the news of their fallen acquaintance, but it was also due to the unusually quiet, tense hybrid that sat in the passenger seat. There was something about him, the look on his face – it was evident to Moira that Klaus was troubled by something, on edge. However, she wasn't in the mood herself for any of his witty remarks, so she kept her mouth shut.
Having lost both Elijah and Klaus when she'd gone to the bathroom, Moira began to surf through the dancing crowd which reeked of bourbon. Surely enough, in the midst, she ran into a certain blonde that she'd been wanting to speak to since her arrival. Moira was beginning to think the woman had just ditched it all for the sake of her own sanity. Quite frankly, the girl couldn't say she would blame Camille if she'd done so. But, she hadn't; instead, Camille had chosen to make an appearance in honor of her uncle, even if it meant watching in disgust as people turned the function into a celebration.
