News of factions forming and a war brewing reached the ears of Juliet Ambrosia. Vampire lines plotting to take down Original sirelines piqued her interest. With it having been almost a thousand years since she'd last seen her found family, Juliet de...
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The next morning was tough for everyone after losing both Camille and Davina. Marcel was still broken-hearted about the young witch's death and refused to sleep but to prepare her for the funeral. Because the girl was shunned by the Ancestors, Marcel understood why there would be a handful of those attending, making it easier for him to prepare a memorial. Juliet, on the other hand, opted for a nap which lasted for a few hours; until the sun's bright rays pierced through the large and open windows, illuminating Marcel's entire bedroom.
Her eyes fluttered open from the brightness and she groaned, her brows pulling together as she sat up. In the other room, she could hear Marcel shuffling – pacing back and forth in thought. But he stopped once he heard Juliet's soft and tired footsteps approaching. Turning to look at her, the man couldn't help but still view her as beautiful even with her hair sticking to the sweat on her face and her eye makeup creating the raccoon eye look.
He shook his head, running a hand down the back of his neck as he took the few steps to approach her. Offering her a small smile, Marcel wrapped his arms around her torso, giving her a light squeeze. This took the woman by surprise, unsure whether she should take his tenderness as a good sign. Regardless, she wrapped her arms around him as well, realizing he was already dressed in a suit and tie. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" she questioned, pulling away from him. "I would have gotten ready when you had."
"I put this on as soon as you fell asleep; figured I'd have everything ready for when you woke up." Juliet nodded in understanding, turning on her heel to prepare for the brief funeral. As much clothes as she owned, her suitcase was not packed with funeral appropriate attire; she settled for black pants, a black shirt, a black leather jacket and her black combat boots. Once she was finished, the two headed out to the New Orleans Cemetery.
The city was known for many things and one of them was the loud and celebratory New Orleans funerals. The sounds of brass instruments echoed through the crisp air, creating somber melodies in honor of the recent lives lost. Juliet knew it was the work of Niklaus Mikaelson; he was the type to go all out for any kind of situation.
They met up with Vincent, Kol and Josh who also wore matching black suit and ties; immediately the woman felt underdressed. Pulling her jacket down, Josh gave her a look followed by a small sigh. The judgments radiating from the newly turned vampire were evident; Juliet slightly rolled her eyes at his antics. "Ready?" Vincent questioned, his sorrowful dark stare directed to Marcel. It was a question which went unanswered as both Marcel and Juliet took their spots in front of Davina's stone, tears instantly beginning to form. Juliet looked away, her guilt overpowering her body. Even with the Ancestral given powers, the woman knew they would never allow her to resurrect the young witch's body, not after all Davina had done to anger them. Still, the woman wished there was a way.
"Say not in grief that she is no more," Vincent began softly. "But be thankful that she ever was and though she was taken far too soon, may her enduring light show us a way through this darkness." He paused, letting out a breath of air. "Let us mourn as we cannot move on until we do."
