Chapter Text
You had recently moved to a small village to become independent. It was hard to get on your feet with your finances to manage, yet money surprisingly wasn’t the most challenging part of your newfound life.
You often pondered about how you felt incredibly lonely. You had considered this might become an issue, but you were quick to brush it off, as you felt you were ‘just fine’ within your own company.
It felt weird coming back to your somewhat isolated home every day - a long, lone path leading only to it, no neighbors in the immediate area. It only got worse inside, the stillness of your furniture being so utterly depressing you sometimes felt grateful for the flies inviting themselves in through open windows.
You often conversed with the townsfolk at any chance that wouldn’t appear too strange. You weren’t used to talking to strangers this much, but it was your only hope at keeping some contact with the outside world.
One of your best acquaintances soon became Hazel - a sunny, young woman with her life ahead of her, similar to you. However, her predicament was drastically different, as she had many friends, even more siblings, and a fiance to top it all off. You at times felt bad cluttering her company with your presence, feeling ‘not good enough’ so you limited your stays by her side to only when she chose for you to be by her. Surprisingly, it was quite common for you to talk, so it brought some faith into your friendship.
The very last thing convincing you of the trust she put in you was when she came with a favor to ask. You watched her wide skirt and tight curls bounce as she gracefully avoided the cobblestone gaps in the path, trying to not wedge her velvet-wrapped heels in them and - god forbid - leave a scratch. Her very appearance dripped luxury, the thick fragrance of her perfume sealing such opinion in everyone’s head. Despite coming from great wealth, she never reflected such in attitude.
No matter how shiny the lining of her dresses may be or how loud her jewelry clinked and clattered, the loudest part of today’s outfit must’ve definitely been the generous array of flowers held within her grasp.
“Good day, dear!” She called out to you as you waved at her gently, a small basket of yarns and fabrics resting on your elbow, freshly purchased from the market. “I’m so glad I found you, I was worried I’d have to bestow this most important task on one of my sisters. You know how foolish they can be.” She huffed as she shoved the bundle of flowers in your arms without question. “Could you bring these to my grandpa’s grave? It’s the anniversary of his death, and I’m worried I have a meeting to attend with my fiance…She’s most busy at her work and rarely has the time, and there’s already an hour of travel between us.” Hazel explained, desperation in her voice.
“Of course, that’s no issue. I’m not doing anything important.” You smile, quietly thinking about her posh speaking mannerisms as you answered, in a comparably less aristocratic manner. You gripped the flowers tighter, holding onto the stems and the paper wrapped around the outside of the bundle.
“That’s amazing! You have my deepest gratitude, I must treat you to some tea once I return. Please be sure to get them to papa’s grave before they wilt, okay?!” She already began marching off before finishing so you barely got a word in.
“Oh, that wouldn’t be nec- oh, have a safe trip!” You raised your voice in volume as she got farther from you, only waving goodbye before disappearing, presumably to catch her train, or carriage, or whatever rich people travel by.
You sigh, looking at the bouquet left in your hands, no doubt, this is probably worth more than your monthly salary. It consisted of a tasteful selection of muted flowers, the ones typically found placed on burial sites, adorned with many ferns and grasses sprinkled here and there. The artistry of the bouquet spoke to you, yet you doubted if going this far only to pay respects to the dead had ulterior motives in showing excessive wealth. Oh well, it’s not your money, who cares.
You begin the walk back home, which helped put your mind at ease. You were quick to forget the heft of the bouquet, opting to instead focus your energy on appreciating the bird songs, undoubtedly some of the last this season, considering the ever-yellowing leaves. The materials you had just acquired were also in preparation for the cold, you were quite assertive in finishing the goal you had set for yourself - hand-knitting an entire, full-sized blanket. Quite the task indeed!
Your trip home was quick. Ditch the basket, don’t forget the bouquet, maybe bring an extra scarf, just to be safe.
You actually lived quite close to the church. You appreciated the mystique and atmosphere the loud bells provided, even if they sometimes woke you up. The graveyard, as they usually tend to do, neighbored the church, meaning the route you took was unchanged, with only a small detour.
You quickly arrived at the cemetery, the spiked tips of the metal fence being a very uninviting first impression. You hadn’t visited it yet since moving, as you had no previous need to do such, so you made sure to look around and take in the quite grim scene. The large gate appeared to be closed, but it soon budged under some encouragement. You cracked it only slightly, slithering in through the narrow opening as you carefully slipped the bouquet through, which somehow proved wider than your entire body.
You began marching through the twisting maze of headstones and crosses, trying to spot a nameplate that carried Hazel’s surname.
To your immediate horror, you realized you didn’t ask for her grandfather’s name or even surname. What if there are multiple under the same name? What if he comes from her mother’s side? You decided that ultimately, you could probably ask the priest - who you were acquainted with as well - or, as a last resort, leave it under his care and ask her siblings about it.
Quite troubled about the situation, you began to fidget with a corner of the ornate paper of the bundle between two fingers. Your head darted left to right, taking in all the nameplates and epitaphs. What you didn’t realize in your desperate search, however, is that you had company.
You exhale loudly, troubled at your predicament. Your shoulders slump, your grip still tight and steady on the flower stems, as you bite your lip and take a break to look towards the sky. It was getting dark, you realize, which proves effective at hurrying you in your search. The last thing you need is being stuck in a creepy graveyard after dark with no light to lead you back home and nothing to protect yourself with, in case it came down to that.
As you bring your gaze back down, something curious catches your eye. Something bright seems to almost sparkle in the corner of your eye, which you quickly turned your attention to. What greeted you back was the dumbfounded face of a man, nose scrunched up, peeking from behind a tree. Taking this as your sign there might be hope, you call out.
“Excuse me!” He flinches at your voice, despite having his full attention on you, as if he wasn’t expecting you to acknowledge his presence. “I need help, do you have time?” You remained a distance away from him, and it felt terrible to raise your voice in the place of rest for many, so you begin to take careful steps in his direction, making it a point to avoid anyone’s burial ground.
He appears more on edge with every step you take, running his eyes over your figure multiple times before he decided to firmly plant his feet on the ground, his grip on the shovel you happily realized he was carrying seeming even more secure.
“Are you the gravedigger? Are you familiar with who lays where?” You ask, trying to keep your voice gentle for both the dead and his unease.
“Are you not aware where your own family rests?” The stranger’s response was entirely judgemental, maybe even amused at how foolish you came off as. His tone was impossibly hostile, even with his shaky posture.
“I’m not here for my family. A friend sent me because she couldn’t come herself. Please, I must get it done today and it’s getting dark, I didn’t think of bringing even matches…”
He squinted his eyes at you, which you realized were quite unusual in color. The almost violet hue stood out even in the scarce light of the evening. Thinking about it further, his entire image appeared unusual. It was his rather bright hair that made you realize he was even there, after all. He was dressed in heavily contrasting, draping clothes, their dark hue befitting of his job.
“Fine. I’ll help. I don’t want you rummaging through the place while I work. The name?”
“Oh, thank you, sir! I owe you!” You cheerily thank him, providing the surname right after.
“The…full name? You do realize that’s a common last name, right?”
“Ah- actually, I didn’t think to ask…” You admit, face lowered in shame.
You heard him scoff. “I won’t be taking a tour through the entire cemetery with you. I don’t have that kind of time. Make up your mind with something specific or you’ll be running around alone after all.”
“Alright, alright! Come to think of it, she said it’s the anniversary of his death, we can find it by the date. And they’re rich, so the grave will be quite lavish…”
“You’re not exactly helping.” He growled back, despite which he turned from you and told you to come with him. You didn’t think twice about following after him. He was cold towards you, but he was your last hope in getting home before dusk and you could honestly excuse his behavior. You circled the more expensive graves, until finally finding the one that seemed to match your information.
You finally put the bouquet down, your hands covered in sap and admittedly quite cramped, you turn toward the strange gravedigger.
“Thank you, sir! Really! I don’t know what I’d do without your help…” You thank him, reaching a hand out. He looked at it, unamused, not even flinching to return your handshake. You awkwardly drop your hand. “So uh…”
“You can leave now.” He says bluntly. “My shift starts soon and I don’t want you bothering me. Besides, didn’t you want to return home before dark?” His tone scrutinizing and cold, you felt quite intimidated by his presence, coupled with his towering stature and ghostly pale face.
“Can I get your name?”
“Huh?!”
“I wish to recommend you to the priest. You helped me.”
“That’s just unnecessary. Just go.”
“Ah, right…” You turn to leave, twisting your hands together. “I hope I’ll see you around…” Bidding him goodbye with forced politeness, the nod he saw you off with escaped you as you focused on avoiding the graves as you marched toward the exit. Although he was quite rude, you couldn’t help but think back to him as you got ready for bed. You couldn’t help but theorize about the story he had to tell.