Dragon's Key--Complete

Chapter Eight

The funeral was beautiful.  The minister had known my grandfather for years and so it wasn't the generic 'you're going to hell, so you better start repenting now' kind of thing I'd seen a couple of times before.

Most of it was in English, likely out of respect for me, but when the minister asked for people to stand and share experiences they'd had with my grandfather or how they felt about him, several people spoke in Welsh.

Aaron took care of me, however, whispering the translations in my ear.  Apparently Welsh hadn't changed that much in the years he'd been locked away, and if it had, Henry had helped him keep up.  There was so much I didn't know, but likely this was one of the less important things.  Man probably knew half the languages on the planet anyway.

Aaron carefully kept up the ruse of being my fiance, though I know it was likely in his eyes that there was no subterfuge.  He held my hand, but didn't slather me with PDAs like many men would have.  It was just one more thing that he did that reminded me that he was nothing like any other man I had ever known.

I liked being treated with respect.  His manners were so carefully cultivated.  Doors were held for me without hesitation.  He took my arm, a light hand at my elbow, sometimes to guide me, but also to help my balance since my feet were still healing.  He was quite careful to ensure things appeared just the way he wanted them to and I was impressed at the practiced way that he seemed to know just how to effect that.

What would have turned into at least an hour standing outside the door of the church turned into a brief discussion with the minister and pleasant promises to talk with everyone at the luncheon at the house.

I was then quietly pressed into the back of the car.  Henry was driving today, not just to save my feet, but also because of the sudden knowledge this morning that Aaron did not like cars.  Henry had even brought out the large Mercedes that he'd driven my grandfather around in, and still Aaron was reluctant to climb into the enclosed space.

He didn't say anything, just stood beside the car looking inside and I seemed to know what was wrong.  It must have seemed like a dark hole he was about to climb into.  He knew about cars, we'd discussed it, but that didn't help him when it came time to actually get inside.

I solved that problem by climbing in first and taking his hand to tug him in with me.  He followed, almost instinctively going wherever I was, but I could see the sheen of sweat on his face and I knew this wasn't going to last long if I didn't do something.

Just as he shifted his weight to bolt, I wrapped my hand around the base of his hair, where the braid began at the nape of his neck.  He stopped as though he'd run into a wall and I tugged him back toward me as Henry shut the car door and hurried around to the driver's side.

Aaron took several deep breaths, glancing up at Henry as he got in and started up the car.  I leaned over and started to wrap the length of his braid around my wrist, letting it slide out several inches before I twisted my wrist and took it back up again.  Several deep breaths later, Aaron seemed to calm down and I could see the determination in his eyes that no one be aware of this previously unknown weakness.

The ride back to the house after the funeral seemed to be easier, but I think that was more likely due to the fact that Aaron was much more aware of what was going on around us than his own dislike of the car.  He kept looking behind us as though there was something there that made him uncomfortable and when questioned, only shook his head.

The wake was nice.  Henry had arranged to have it out in the back garden so that no one but the staff would have access to the house.  I was grateful for that, I didn't like the idea of people I didn't know having access to my private spaces.  I knew it relieved Aaron as well.