-1Wow, I'm not used to getting responses for a story the same day it's put out… a guy could get spoiled. Heh blush. So since people actually like my little tale here's a new chapter, Welcome and thanks to two new reviewers: VolturiLeader and escribej. Usual provisos here. Thanks, Ryv.
IV: Eulogy
They all fell to work on the funeral, or in tying up the loose ends of our skirmish, or just mourning for the fallen: all the things that needed to be done. I, well, I did not.
A week, a full seven days, had passed and still I felt nothing. Can you imagine the loss of such an integral part of yourself, an entire sense? Picture yourself biting into a tiramisu and not tasting it, standing before Michelangelo's David and not being able to see or touch it, or standing in a field of wildflowers and not having so much as a whiff of the aromas.
I know that they worried for me, how could they not? I was a very robot. My speech was flat, uninflected, there was no flavor to my words, no accent on this or that particular syllable. I was speaking a most correct dialect, dictionary perfect to the last definition, my sentence structure was of the utmost perfection. It was a completely dead language.
Jacob, I'm told, was in a similar state. He had joined Edward in seclusion at the cottage, which people felt was for the best. Only Renesemee's parents could begin to fathom the depths of his loss. Ten years before the confrontation Jacob had imprinted on the newly born girl. No one could quite fathom what that meant, no one except myself of course.
It's hard to put into words, I felt it as intensely as Jacob himself had. For one moment there was a feeling of emptiness, of being a vessel that just happened to be labeled "Jacob Black." Then being filled, fileld to the4 very limit of his soul with this being called "Renesemee." At the same time himself, his identity, rushed out and into and filled a similar void in the depths of the newborn. Something stolen away, something found in return, a lack of identity and a brand new definition of self.
It was an eternal moment that promised eternity. It could not be defined as mere love. I, who have savored the entire emotional feast from bitterest to sweetest, still cannot give this feeling a name.
As my niece rapidly developed physically, so too did the complexity of this emotional tie. When Renesmee was chronologically seven years of age her body was that of a seventeen year old siren, her mind had all the cagey complexity of a middle aged soap opera villainess. She was perfect.
They then had three wonderful year together, and I felt every moment of the sheer joy they took in each other. I once pitied Alice that she had become the innocent victim of reflected physical and emotional ecstasy. The glow that surrounded them lit the room with a golden light whenever they were together. It was a beautiful thing, and it was gone.
I knew that I should have been worried for Jacob, and for myself, but I simple could not be. Even when Carlisle asked me if to speak at the service, to which I agreed, I felt nothing. It was only that I… remembered… that as Alice's partner that I was supposed to speak, it was as simple as that.
A simple ceremony. My family, the wolf packs, a few residents of La Place, Bella's father, were in attendance. We held it outdoors, well away from the cottage and the mansion. Two stone cairns laid over the interred ashes of our lost loved ones; between these mounds an oak tree was planted. Under the guidance of our friend Benjamin's gifts the tree had grown as tall and powerful as any in the entire forest. Sunlight, rare in this area, filtered down through its branching limbs. I registered the beauty of the scene with my, now, usual cold indifference, as if I was viewing a well crafted photograph.
Jacob's father, Billy, feeble in his wheelchair but wielding the inner power of a tribal chief asked the blessings of the Great Spirit of his people. He implored the spirits of his ancestors to ensure a place for Renesmee and Alice both in the sacred lodge of the fallen heroes of the tribe.
Then Edward stood, this caused me a moment of incurious surprise, since logic suggested that Jacob spoke for Renesmee, as I had been asked to speak for Alice.
"My friends," he began in a clear voice. "We have come today in remembrance of two we love, my sister Alice and my daughter Renesmee. My daughter Renesmee, our miracle child, our beautiful child. Her very existence made the bonds we share today possible: Native and Caucasian, werewolf and vampire, living and undead.
"I was once worried that I would be damned forever, soulless and empty. Then I met my love, Bella, and she put me on the first steps along the path towards realization with the power that love. Then at the end of that road was Renesmee, who let me know that I was not alone or forsaken. That girl, my curly haired angel, was my proof that there was a Creator ad that he loved me and believed in me. I now find comfort in knowing that my girl has returned to that Maker, her mission here fulfilled and she can and will enjoy all the rich rewards of Heaven.
"I miss you, my beloved little girl. I thank you for what you have given me: my soul, my peace of mind, and for my brother and son Jacob. Look down little one, and rest easy, we all soon will be well. Until we meet again."
It was beautiful and simple, a fitting tribute to my niece's purity. The mortals wiped away tears, the lupines gave a gentle croon, the vampires sighed softly as a spring breeze; the only physical vent for their sorrow. I merely noted the beauty of his words and the effect of them upon those gathered there.
I then rose and took my place where Edward had stood, before the great oak tree between the mounds. I was dressed in the black clothing required of this situation, my hair in perfect place, as composed as a young cleric in an illuminated manuscript.
"Thank you all for coming," I said in my flat way. "It would have meant a great deal to Alice." This was the simple truth, Alice adored having friends; I think that her years of confinement and isolation may have had something to do with that.
"Please, remember Alice as she was, not as she became, that also would have made her happy," again that was simple truth. I reasoned that the mourners may have needed a bit of encouragement to move on with their lives as well.
I nodded to them all and then turned from the assemblage. Many gasped at the stark and spare words I'd said on behalf of my former lover. Someone, most probably Emmett, rose to follow me but was restrained as I went into the deep forest.