June 29, 1163
To this very hour, Cuthron Wythleit laid in his bed, neither moving nor breathing. In his bed... that was how he had always wanted to go, Ceidrid knew. The only missing detail the old man would have desired was the presence of a woman in said bed with him. Oh well--it was better than wasting away for months as their parents had, Ceidrid had to admit.
And yet, it almost felt worse for Ceidrid and his siblings. Sudden. Unexpected. Falidor claimed Ailede had said something like that to him when her brother had died; it was the first time Ceidrid had ever felt any sympathy for his sister-in-law.
Behind him, Falidor dragged the toe of his boot against the dirt floor. "So you and Nora and the children are still thinking about moving into the rooms above your shop until your new house is finished?"
Jothein nodded. "That's the plan."
Nora glared at her. "Sina!"
Alsina shrugged. "What? It's true."
Rifden took a moment to consider; Ceidrid continued to prod at the flames, trying to figure out what he himself would say when they asked him. It was not a decision to be made hastily, but given the circumstances, there was no other option. Unfortunately, Ceidrid was not the sort of boy who thought well under pressure. It seemed at the moment that his best chance was to wait for his younger brother's response, and perhaps play off of it.
Finally, Rifden spoke. "I don't know. Since I'm your apprentice, I should probably move into your new house with you when it's built, but you might want your space if you're living in the shop with the children and all. Maybe Ceidrid and Alsina and me should just move in with Falidor for a while."
Falidor sighed. "If I didn't think Ailede would kill me, I'd agree."
Jothein and Nora's rooms didn't have the physical space... Falidor's house didn't have the emotional space... this was beginning to feel rather hopeless.
"Well... it is technically my house now," he began, speaking word-by-word as each came to mind, "and somebody does need to tend the farm--I don't think Grandpapa would have wanted to see it rot away, especially since it looks like it's going to be a good harvest this year. I know I'm probably not the best guardian for Alsina and Rifden, but I'll be sixteen in September, so I think I'm mature enough to provide for them until your new house is ready."
His sister's head tilted to one side as her lips pursed in mingled compassion and contemplation. "Ceidrid... are you sure? I mean, I trust you, but is that really what you want?"
Falidor lifted his head to the ceiling. "I suppose that's as good a solution as anything else. I only wish we could've had a little more time before we had to make such a decision."
"Don't we all," Jothein muttered in agreement. "Don't we all."
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