Disclaimer: The film Rise of The Guardians belongs to DreamWorks
A/N: Takes place several years after Jack's human death.
She Would Be Happy
…..
Her dark brown hair fell forward covering her eyes as she poked a needle through the fabric of her half-sewn-on sleeve. She always hated off-white; not white as snow, not white as old widowed Prudence's hair two cabins over. It was ugly. It was bland.
She had dreamt of a gown bright as a summer flower, white as winter moonlight, and covered neckline to heel in beads and ribbons. Her shoes would be made of the same material and would be lined with diamonds set in intricate designs, just like the princesses she would see in her dreams.
And it wasn't just the dress, Emeline Overland simply did not want to get married.
Not that Amos Bennett would make an unfit husband, he was certainly a fine man. Of all the men in Burgess, Amos was the smartest. He was smart as a whip and a hard worker. He was a carpenter and a farmer and philosopher… whatever that meant. She should be jumping for joy that this man would want her to be his life companion,
But it only made her feel sick.
When the only living descendent of the Overland name was asked before the eyes of god to take Amos Bennett as her husband, so shocked was Emeline that she had fainted right there and then, dirty hair and muddy brown dress fanned out around her unconscious body. It took four woman waving six fans, a wet cloth, and a rough shaking of her shoulders to get her to come to.
Not very romantic, but Amos didn't seem to mind. In fact, she was told that during her fainting spell the man wept and carried on about how ashamed he was that he did not catch her fall. It was annoying, really. He followed her like a lost dog for the rest of the week, begging for forgiveness and complementing every freckle on her face… individually.
Unable to focus on another damned stitch, Emeline got up from her chair and threw the garment aside. Her mother's cat meowed and purred, watching her cross to the door and wrap her shawl around her shoulders. Her feet slipped into her unlaced shoes and she opened the door to the cold late winter air.
The cold was bearable. This time of year was never too miserable and the shining sun gave her an extra feeling of warmness.
Her brown hair blew around in the wind and she tugged it over her shoulder to stop it from hitting her in the eyes. She had taken the long way around, ducking behind bushes and sneaking through the trail behind the cabin, careful not to run into anyone on her way to the forest. She was sick of the congratulations, she was sick of the praise, and admiration.
Goodness, it was just marriage!
Granted, marriage to a very well-off man, but marriage none the less. Whether it was Amos' status in society or just the need for something to gossip about in the village, Emeline had found that they were now the names on everyone's lips. She couldn't go anywhere without her marriage being brought up in a conversation.
By the time the sun hit it highest, she was at the lake's edge. Ice sat over the water in a clean sheet, glistening in the afternoon sun.
A little puff of white escaped her mouth as she sighed.
In no time, the ice would be gone and Spring would be back. Just like last year, it never changed. Winter, Spring, Summer, then Fall.
Her late brother Jack once told her a story about the year Spring forgot to come and how everyone lived miserably and cold for an entire year and a half before Spring finally woke up and said "Damn it all! I overslept!"
It was silly and Emeline had accused him of telling fables. He had always been good at making up stories. Sometimes too good, she remembered. It was hard to tell the difference between his truths and lies, but it still made her laugh whenever she thought about that story in particular. Her brother had been referring to his own bad habit of waking up too late for everything. Mother once joked that Jack would be late for his own funeral...
Hm.
"Oh, Jack." Nearly a decade gone, if not a little less, and his peculiarities still found their way back into her everyday life.
Her eyes scanned the beautiful white/blue frozen water, an ache settling in the bottom of her stomach. She never hated the lake for what it took form her. It was god's will that she would live without her brother, not the lake's.
The morning his soul was put to rest, Emeline watched her mother cry on bended knee and beg the lord for a reason. By evening that same day, Mother was smiling again. She said that Jack had been "born for a higher purpose" and never spoke of the fallen boy again.
…
We're gonna have a little fun instead.
I promise…you're gonna be fine
Wanna play a game?
…
The young woman smiled.
Every year she found herself forgetting a bit more. The sound of his voice, the smile on his face, his laugh…
That's how it was supposed to be, right? The soul healing itself by letting his memory fade just enough to let the living move on?
And on her deathbed, would she remember it all? She liked to believe that she would. It would all come back: the sound of his voice, the smile on his face, his laugh… but it would be mixed together with all the others she had come to know and maybe even lost.
Perhaps she would think of Amos.
The wind picked up and blew snow against her damp reddened face. Her eyes drifted to the center of the lake once more and, for a moment, the only sound in the world was her hushed whisper
"Goodbye, Jack."
She could move on now.
Yes, she would marry Amos and have children of her own. They would laugh and play games and be happy.
She would be happy.