In Which Thetis Expresses Herself

October 5, 1156

Father Quintus had finished his piece, and now Florian was nearing the end of his. Thetis had tried to pay attention to the both of them, she honestly had, but she had found herself much too preoccupied with her own thoughts to listen carefully to what they had to say.

Thetis had never liked funerals--really, who did? As if anyone needed just one more reminder of a death.

For a woman who hadn't often left her house in life, Electra seemed to have quite a few friends; at least, a good handful of people had shown up for her funeral. Thetis stood with Halford and Arydath, near Lord Severin and his steward. Sister Elwyna, the nun who would be running the orphanage, was standing with Father Quintus. She didn't appear to be particularly stern, Thetis was relieved to see--chances are, her little daughter would end up being raised by that nun.

She was surprised to see that Falidor had decided to tag along with Lord Severin. Thetis had never met any of the young steward's family, but from what she had heard, his father had died back in Dovia and his mother was very ill, and would likely not last another year. Were she in Falidor's boots, she would have avoided anything even remotely related to death at all costs, so she could at least enjoy the time that remained.

Or perhaps he was trying to surround himself with death. Perhaps he figured that he would become numb to it, and then, when his mother finally died, he would face a lesser pain than he would have otherwise. That would make sense too, she supposed.

Florian just seemed intent on avoiding all eyes as he muttered the rest of the eulogy, more to himself than to all those assembled. It was clear that he was not at his most comfortable in front of so many people, even if he had been asked to speak about something he actually enjoyed discussing. Also, the cold breeze couldn't have been good for him; it was really rather selfless of him, making sure that his wife was given a proper funeral at the risk of his own health.

"So, I guess there's really nothing left to say," sighed Florian at last. "I just want to thank you all for coming. I'm sure Electra would be honored to see that you all came. You're welcome to leave as you please; I'm sure the people watching your babies will be anxious to see you back."

That was true. Thetis had left Byrn at the baron's keep, where Evera, Setran, and Lyraina were also being taken care of--much to the horror of the rather cruel baroness, at that. Fortunately, she had a nurse for her own babies anyway, and would not have to bother with them herself, which was perfectly fine with Thetis, who really would have rather not had her children anywhere near that awful woman in the first place.

But at least she'd found somewhere to leave Byrn--it would have been a terrible waste of a day when Norwan was sleeping off a hangover in some village inn with a local prostitute if she'd had to stay home with her son. Funerals really were no place for babies.

She kept waiting for Florian to meet her eye, but he just kept staring off into space, as if trying to trace Electra's path to heaven. No... that didn't sound like the sort of thing Florian would do. Perhaps he was just trying to empty his mind, to forget exactly why he was here.

Thetis could relate. Electra had been the mother to Evera that Thetis sorely wished she could have been, and now, the little girl would never know that mother. All she would ever know now was the cold orphanage floor, and a scratchy blanket she shared with four other children. And what sort of future was there for a girl raised in an orphanage? She might become some sort of spinster servant, or perhaps a nun, or maybe even--no. Thetis could not allow herself to think such thoughts.

"It'll be all right, Thetis," she distinctly heard Falidor whisper. "Don't worry."

She wasn't sure she could reply; she didn't think she could believe him.

So instead, she just closed her eyes and began to count. Being a poor, uneducated peasant girl, Thetis only knew the numbers up to a hundred, so when she reached that, she would start over at one. Exactly how many times she did this, she didn't know; the way she saw it, it barely even mattered.

"Go home, Thetis."

It appeared that only herself and Florian remained.

"Maybe you should go too," she suggested; she had to admit, she was a little worried about his condition in this cold weather.

Florian sighed. "She should too, but we both know she's not going to."

Shaking her head, she slowly made her way toward him. "She's in a better place, now, Florian."

"She would have been in a better place anyway," he argued bitterly, "now that Setran's here. He's such a good baby--this one actually sleeps through the night."

He took a moment to erupt into a coughing fit, then regained his composure and continued to stare at the tombstone. "He's so patient, and the woman who's nursing him says he's a much more cooperative eater than her own baby. Not that I blame that other boy--I wouldn't suck those tits for all the money in Naroni. If anything, my son's got absolutely bizarre taste."

"Florian... please," Thetis urged him softly. "You're not feeling well; Electra wouldn't have wanted you sitting out in the cold like this, talking about breasts. She'd want you to be at home, with Setran and Evera."

Florian nodded, then pulled himself to his feet. "You're right. Thank you."

There was so much that she wished she could say to him, and yet, she found she did not know the words she needed. Perhaps words were not always reliable, she supposed; maybe sometimes, the only way to express oneself was with a hug.

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