alright, here comes the next chapter!
CHAPTER TWO: ILLIA’S PLAN
Artham walked into the Throne Room, where he had been whisked away by servants. Arundelle had been separated from him, and now he was faced with Esben and Emerald.
Emerald was sobbing convulsively, and Esben was whimpering. It was a sad state of things, and Artham immediately reached them and hugged them close. Emerald sobbed on his chest, and Esben rested his quivering head on his brother’s shoulder.
Oh, how could I possibly explain to you the heartbreak of an eight and ten years old, so young in this thing called life, in mere words?
Or how could I explain how Artham lovingly and tenderly cared for his siblings?
When he finally got them to settle down, and he got some food in their bellies, they both calmed down a little, but clung to Artham as if he were life itself.
Artham did not eat that day. Just quietly saw to the needs of his siblings, and tried to swallow down the grief in his own heart. The three children saw no one except each other. They did not see their aunt or grandmother, who were both in their own torments of grief.
Illia mourned deeply, losing her brother and father, feeling like she had failed her brothers, even if he did insist on her staying back. Madia spent the day softly crying. The blow of the death of her husband and son and daughter-in-law on the same day was a grief to crippling. Neither of them ate that day either.
Finally, the moon arose, and everyone in the castle secretly hoped that by sleeping, they would awake and find it all to have been some terrible nightmare. Esben and Emerald fell asleep practically before their heads hit the pillow, but Artham lie awake for thirty minutes. Then an hour. Then two hours.
Finally, his iron constitution broke, and he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the sobs of grief. He had never felt so hurt in his whole life. So alone. So needful of the Maker’s love. Finally, exhausted by grief and suffering, he cried himself to sleep….though a fitful sleep it was.
Artham awoke, rubbing his eyes hard. They were still red and puffy from the previous night’s torment. He sat up, and stumbled out of bed and into his closet. He threw on some clothes, brushed his hair quickly, washed his face and teeth, then staggered down toe breakfast.
It was here he encountered his Aunt, Grandmother, and old Bonifer for the first time since the grief. He bit his lip. What was he gonna say to them?
Thankfully, he had nothing to say. As soon as he was seen, Illia and Madia hugged and kissed him till his cheeks were red.
“Oh, my darling boy,” Madia whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” Illia whispered, her green eyes filled with tears, her blonde wisps a mess.
Madia’s brown eyes searched his face for any signs of grief, but she saw none. She kissed his forehead, and seated him at the breakfast table, heaping big hotcakes on his plate, lots of eggs, bacon, and a large glass of juice.
Artham more picked at his food than not. Bonifer looked at the boy with pity, but Artham wished he didn’t. He hated being the center of attention.
Illia looked at Artham seriously. “Love, I need to talk to you.”
Artham looked up, chewing his hotcakes all the while.
“Yes?”
“Your parent’s death…may not have been….well, it might have been…”
Illia shook her head, and Artham sighed heavily. He had a guess as to what Illia might say, but he didn’t want to hear it.
“Therefore, we—you might be in danger. That’s what Bonifer says. We’re gonna have to leave…Anniera.”
Artham felt his head spin. His fork dropped out of his hand, and his stomach turned sour. “May I be excused?” he muttered.
Illia bit her lip, and nodded.
Artham left his breakfast, and dashed out of the room, bumping into Esben, muttering an apology, then back to his room.
His bed looked tempting. The pillow…he could relieve emotions there.
“No,” he said to himself through gritted teeth, “you’re the Throne Warden. You need to be there for your siblings.”
He took a deep breath, splashed his face with water, and went downstairs. He saw Esben and Emerald…saw their faces…knew they knew. Knew that they were upset about all of this. Their parents. Leaving. What would happen next?
“No auntie, no!” Emerald said, crossing her rams across her chest. “I don’t want to leave Anniera. It’s my home!”
Illia sighed. “I know dear, but we need to-to-protect you.”
“From what?” Esben protested, lifting his blonde shaggy hair and his tired blue eyes.
“From bad people. Now, no more questions.”
She sat down in front of the two and placed a gentle hand on their shoulders, and kissed them both. “We have to go. Please, make this easy on a woman that’s lost a lot.”
Emerald sobbed, and buried herself in her aunt’s arms.
Artham sat beside Esben and pulled him closer. “It’s alright, Es. We’ll be alright.”
“We’ll be going to Glipwood,” Illia said after a moment. “We’ll pick up grandpa’s name. Greensmith.”
Artham cringed slightly. His name. That was the next thing he had to lose.
After a few more moments, everyone calmed down, resigned to their cruel fate.
Details were ironed out, and it was decided that Illia would take them. According to Annieran law, if the children’s parents die when the eldest is under sixteen, they would go to Uncles and Aunts. Madia would stay in the Hollows, Bonifer remaining with her.
The children went to their rooms that night, their hearts filled with woe. When Artham lay down, he was scared he would burst into tears again. But he didn’t. He just lay there.
About ten minutes later, he heard his door softly open, and saw two small heads pop their heads in.
“Artham,” Esben whispered, “can we sleep with you?”
Artham sat up in bed, and smiled, nodding his head. Esben got on one side of him, and Emerald the other, Emerald snuggling up against him.
After a little while, they all three fell asleep.
NOTES: I consider this chapter to be sad and fluffy 😁
Sad because of the gripping reality of the death and because they have to leave, but fluffy because of the sweet little moments of when the family clings closer to one another in spite of the grief. I hope you guys like this one!
sniffles Well done, Arthra. Well done.