Disclaimer: don't own it.
The night has been an eventful one, but Gunther takes the long way back home for one last event. The grave is an elaborate statue and Gunther hates it. It is everything to do with his father and nothing to do with his mother, he knows. It is all pageantry and for show. It is not for her.
From what he can remember, his mother didn't care as much for the elaborate sorts of shows of riches that his father lusted over. He can remember arguments they'd had, shouting matches, where his mother would cry she didn't need another fancy dress but could they possibly spare the money to train Gunther as a knight since that was what he wanted most?
That had been when he was six, he'd wanted to be a knight since he'd been able to speak the word. His father had not approved. He'd wanted Gunther to take over the family business. His mother however had argued that his being a knight could be good for the family name and besides, they might yet have other sons.
They never did have any other children. That had been another sore point for them, Gunther knew. It, along with several other sore points that had developed between his parents, had been the last thing they'd argued about, well, the last thing his father and mother had spoken about really, five years prior when his mother had left to visit her sister. His mother had said she was visiting her sister to give her some company, Gunther's aunt had five children, and her husband, also a merchant in a different part of the kingdom, was away from home often and for long periods of time. Even then he'd known it had been likely his mother wouldn't be coming back, visiting her sister simply provided a respectable excuse for his parents to live apart.
His mother's tears the night before her departure had not done anything to quell his suspicions. "Hand me that last shawl, dear," she'd said shakily to Gunther as she packed her things. "I think that should do it." She wiped a single betraying tear from her face and looked him in the eye as she took the garment from him and had said, "Gunther dear, are you alright my boy?"
"When will you be coming back?" he'd asked.
The look on her face had said, "Never" but her reply was, "I – I'm not sure, dear. Caroline says she's fine, but her husband writes she's been rather ill since the birth of your last little cousin. It may be a while before she's fully able to take care of herself and the little ones again." She frowned at the look on his face.
"Why do you have to go?" he'd asked, his mouth betraying him. He hated that his emotions were getting the better of him, that he was whimpering like a small child, but the thought of the Breech household being void of the only person in it who'd given him any comfort or joy was almost too much to take. And not for the first time, did he wonder if perhaps the rampages of his father, the brunt of which his mother often bore, would be now fully unleashed on him. The thought had given him nightmares.
She wavered for a moment. "Sweetheart.."
"He hates me. I know it. I can't stay here without you."
She bit her lip, seeming to read his mind. "Darling he doesn't hate you, your father just... likes to get things his way."
It was Gunther's turn to bite his lip, biting back the tears slipping down his cheeks.
She hugged him then, "Oh sweetheart, it will be alright. Hopefully your aunt Caroline will be better soon and we will see each other again soon. In the meantime though, it won't be so bad. You'll see. You've started your knight's training at the castle, you'll be so busy, you and your father will be happy to see each other any chance you can get. You'll see."
He pushed her away. "We won't. He's only happy to see me now because I'm old enough to help with some of the merchandise. And he's only happy I'm training to be a knight because he thinks this will give him a better connection at the castle. But no one likes me there mother, and it's only a matter of time before father finds that out and gets angry. And you know what he's like when he's angry."
She cradled his face in her hands for a moment, the worry etched on her features.
"Look darling, I won't lie to you. I wanted to take you with me. But your father would not let it stand. There was only so much I could do, I'm lucky he's letting me take the carriage to watch my sister die – don't look like that, I didn't want to tell you, but I'm certain it's serious. I wouldn't leave you if I wasn't. I tried to make him let me take you, but he would not hear a word of it. He insisted he needed you here, and besides, you would miss so much of your training. I could hardly argue with that."
Gunther nodded. She could have argued, and he figured she very likely had, but arguing with Magnus Breech was a dangerous affair. This he and his mother both knew.
He sniffled. "If... if Aunt Caroline d-dies, will you stay to help raise her children?"
His mother bit her lip again. "If the family needs the help, yes, Gunther. I will stay as long as needed." She pulled him against her again, tight this time, hugging him so hard it nearly hurt. "But I promise you, child. If that happens, I will do everything in my power to come back for you. I have written to Caroline's husband. He knows of a few knights in his area who might be willing to take apprentices. They might not be as good as Sir Ivon, but they are respectable men. But until then, you must stay, my darling. Your father refuses to give up your help, and I refuse to let you give up your dream."
"I don't care about being a knight!" Gunther burst out. "Please don't make me stay!"
"We both know that's a lie dear. And you know I've already tried. For now, my dear, we must weather on. What is it your uncle always said after coming back on every ship he ever sailed?"
Gunther rubbed vigorously at his left eye and grudgingly supplied, "Even the worst storms pass."
"That's right. Even the worst storms pass. You just have to get through it. I can't promise you it won't be bad sometimes. But it will pass. And I know that when it does, you are going to be the bravest knight in all the realm."
Gunther said nothing, the tears still burning hot tracks down his cheeks.
"Now. Can I get a good bye kiss from the kingdom's bravest knight?"
Gunther kissed her on the cheek and in return, she gave a dewy kiss to his forehead and sniffed.
"Now. The brave knight needs a favor from the lady," she whispered, taking out her handkerchief and wiping Gunther's cheeks with it before slipping it into his small hand. "Be strong my dear. You are stronger than your father knows."
He remembers that the most now putting the chrysanthemums in front of the gravestone, next to the roses. It is the fifth year since a sentry had rode up bearing the news to his father – his mother hadn't gotten farther than two miles before the carriage had been robbed and everyone traveling in it, brutally murdered.
He still suspects his father. After all, it hadn't been more than three months after the death of his mother that Magnus Breech had started looking for a new wife. He hadn't had much success. Kippernium was a small kingdom, with few young women not already married and most fathers seemed unimpressed with Magnus's boastful proclamations of what he could provide their daughters. He suspects his father and he hates that day, for he feels that in it, he lost both a mother and a father. He does not have his mother anymore and he cannot trust his father anymore. He supposes it's entirely plausible his mother's carriage had been raided by enemies. The Breech name after all, does have quite a few enemies, given the swindling the Breech men have become famous for.
Ever since that day, Gunther begins every day wondering if he lives with the man responsible for his mother's death. And the fact that Magnus will not speak much at all of the event nearly confirms his suspicions. At first, Gunther had thought to run away. Even now he considers stealing one of the king's horses and disappearing. But he knows stealing a king's horse would mean the king would employ everyone, including that redhead and her dragon to find him and they most certainly would. He could get away on foot perhaps, but if he were caught, he'd be hanged as a deserting knight, a traitor to the kingdom. So Gunther remakes the decision to stay again, as he has for the last five years, and every day, does what he can to stay in his father's good graces, knowing most of what the man is capable of, and being terrified of the suspicions he has that cannot be confirmed.
Every day he wakes up wondering how much longer until the life he hates can change.
He thinks of this all as he clears away a few more leaves from his mother's gravestone, being sure to make ELIZABETH BREECH, fully legible. He kneels down beside the stone and wonders just how much longer this storm is going to last.
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