Elise- Liechtenstein
...
"Isi, I don't think this is the appropriate time to clean your gun," Peter commented, glancing in his parents' bedroom to find Tino sat on the edge of the bed in a shirt, cream waistcoat and underpants. His clothes were dishevelled, his face unshaven and his eyes bloodshot. Tino sat polishing his rifle, the case open on the bed next to him.
"I know, I know," he sighed, setting the thing down with trembling hands, "it just helps me relax."
"Look, if you'd rather stay home, then I understand…"
"No, I have to go," Tino's bottom lip quivered, "they were our friends, and Tsvet and Andrei need our support." He stared into space for a moment. "You know, you'd think I'd be used to death by now, but it appears not…"
"Don't think it's something y'can get used to," Berwald commented, appearing in the doorway. Tino nodded and stood up to look for his trousers and socks.
"Are the little ones ready?" he asked.
Berwald nodded. "Jumpin' on the bed last time I saw. Told 'em to stop. They ignored me 'nd fell off."
"Are they okay?"
"Björn hit his head."
"On what?"
"Eemeli…"
Tino groaned, but decided his sons were probably fine. There was no distant screaming and crying to suggest they weren't.
Peter left his parents to it and wandered into the hall, discovering that Björn and Eemeli had since gone downstairs and deciding to join them. In the kitchen, he found Lars eating cereal over the sink to avoid spilling any on his suit.
"I thought you'd be going with Franz," he commented.
"He's picking his family up from the airport," Lars explained, "and there wasn't really room in car for me too, and Isi had a people-carrier so…"
"Plus it would involve sitting in a car with Elise for an extended period of time."
"Hey, meeting exes is always a tricky experience!"
"Especially ones you dated in Uni for a year before dumping because you've realised you're incredibly gay for their little brother."
"Pretty much, yeah. So I'd rather tail you guys today."
"Nice to know we have the honour of being graced with your presence."
"Shut up."
The brothers stood in silence for a few moments before Lars finished his cereal and left the bowl and spoon in the sink, slinking away with a whistle.
"Papa, you have some cleaning to do," he sang quietly, jokingly. Peter boredly followed him into the sitting room, where Björn and Eemeli were sprawled on the sofa, tugging at the stiff collars of their shirts.
"Has my waistcoat always been this tight?" Eemeli complained.
"Not before you got so fat," Björn replied, causing the older two brothers to burst out laughing.
"Well you're fired," Eemeli shot back with a grin.
"From what?"
"Your job changing light bulbs, you tall prick."
Both Björn and Eemeli collapsed into a fit of giggles, silenced only when a teary Tino entered and threw a glare in their direction.
"Today is not an appropriate day for laughter," he muttered. He turned to his fourth son and sighed; "Lars, did you just come here to eat our food and make a mess?"
"Well, I need a lift too…"
Tino rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen.
"Want me to help you, Isi?" called Peter, following after throwing a smug grin in Lars' direction.
"Oh no, I'm fine!" Tino replied, but when Peter walked into the kitchen, he found his Isi with his sleeves rolled up, washing up whilst angrily muttering something along the lines of having to do everything himself and never getting any help and having lazy sons.
"I just offered to give you a hand!" Peter exclaimed.
Tino jumped. "Oh hi son," he began, "is everything tidy?"
"Yeah," he rolled his eyes, "but the reception isn't being held here, you know?"
"Someone might want to come back. And I'll be asking Tsvetan and Andrei if they want to stay the night. So this place better be spotless for them!"
"It is! Except those three broken condoms I counted on sofa."
"Peter, what have I told you about calling your brothers that?"
"Do it because it's hilarious?" Peter sat at the kitchen table as Berwald entered.
"C'mon or we'll be late," he said, "oh, and remember to make the kids turn off their phones and give them to us before the service. We don't want a repeat of Mr Bonnefoy's funeral."
"What happened again?" asked Peter with a slight smile on his face.
"What do you mean 'what happened'?" cried Tino, "you were there! We caught Lars texting during the middle of the service."
"I thought he was snapchatting," Peter covered his mouth with a hand.
"Just shut up and get in the fucking car."
…
The grey skies were fitting, Peter thought as he climbed the steps of the detailed white, blue and gold Orthodox Church, and he wondered if it would rain soon. The procession from Tsvetan's house to the church had been long and sombre, and no one had said a word in the car as they followed the hearse through Berlin's streets, instead sitting in glum silence. Even Eemeli didn't say a word.
The car park in front of the church was filled with mourners, mostly the other spies and their families with a distinct lack of Alin and Tsvetan's relatives, save for Alin's little brother and Tsvetan's three cousins. Andrei was near the door, talking to the priest and Peter remembered him mentioning just how hard it was to find a priest to bury Alin and the children, most turning away the moment Tsvetan's relationship to them was explained.
Peter looked back across the car park and spied Franz with his parents and sister, all in matching, black outfits. Elise and her mother- Érzsebét- wore black mantillas, and Roderich wrapped his arm around his wife to comfort her. She never got along with Alin, but even Érzsebét had been horrified at the news of his and his children's murders.
Elsewhere, Luca and Anri looked immaculate, also dressed in black with matching sunglasses. Luca kept his head down, most likely thinking of what he'd witnessed at the crime scene. Although he'd never known Alin and the children personally, the memories of their bodies, and being the one to find Skender would certainly have had an emotional effect on him. Chances were the whole thing was reminding him of his brother too. He brushed a lock of hair out of his face with a gloved hand, standing close to his sister and following her lead.
The family reached the top of the steps, and Tsvetan began handing everyone a candle. That certainly caught Peter's attention.
He didn't do fire.
Was everyone supposed to be getting a candle? He glanced at Berwald, already feeling himself start to panic. He wiped his sweaty hands on his blazer, but it did little good.
The rest of his family each took a candle, Eemeli far too pleased to receive one. Tino and Berwald glanced at Peter nervously but Andrei held a hand out, turning to the priest.
"There's no need to give him one," he began, "I already explained."
"Of course."
So Peter passed by candle-free, though he was wary of the others; everyone had one. They walked into the church and slowly made their way along the aisle, and Peter was met with a sea of candles, all glowing softly. At the front, before the alter were four coffins, open to show Alin and the children, eyes closed peacefully and clutching pictures of saints in their hands. The Oxenstjärna-Väinämöinen family sat down together, taking up a row each. Berwald had made sure Peter was sat at the end, away from the fires, but he was still nervous. More than nervous. Terrified.
More people filed in and sat down, Tsvetan and Andrei coming in last with the priest and sitting in the front row, tears silently streaming down their faces as they glanced at their family, who looked so peaceful in the dim, soft light. Others were crying too, whilst yet more were on the brink. Peter caught sight of Luca wiping a tear away.
The service started, everyone carefully following the booklets helpfully provided by Tsvetan, which explained what exactly was going on, as the majority weren't entirely familiar with the Orthodox service. Peter glanced at his parents, both of whom seemed to be struggling to understand what was going on.
Peter tried not to look at the candles. After another wave of panic, he kept his head down, reading from his booklet intently.
But he could still feel their heat.
The flames seemed to be creeping towards them, making his skin crawl as he broke into a cold sweat. He needed to get out. There was too much fire in here. He tried to keep quiet though; now was not the time or place to panic.
He looked up, eyes fixing on the candle in Björn's hand. He didn't want fire near the boy. Or himself. Or any of his siblings.
He couldn't do it. He hated fire too much to spend hours in his presence. But he couldn't just leave!
But the candles were too close for comfort, and he was starting to panic big time.
Berwald glanced over at him, sighing before leaning over to whisper if he needed to go outside.
Peter gave a shaky nod before bursting into tears and running into the aisle. His vision was blurred and he barely managed to get to the door, only vaguely aware of his father's footsteps behind him.
Once outside, he collapsed on the steps, wheezing and trying to calm his deep, uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as he felt Berwald sit down next to him, "I thought I could manage…"
But no, the memory of what he did that day- to himself and his brothers- was still fresh in his mind, and always would be.