WHO: Thor, Loki, and open WHAT: Funeral proceedings WHEN: Backdated to shortly after returning to Kirkwall WHERE: House Asgard, Wounded Coast NOTES: Grief and loss
The boy seems broken. Thor should just let him go. Too many emotions at the Vigil are unseemly, but this is already very far from a typical Vigil. After longer than he should, Thor steps forward.
"Wait. Have a drink of wine and breathe." Three houses. Four messes. They may not be doing Tevinter proud here. He's certainly not done his mother proud.
Bene has experienced panic before, but never in such a calm and stately atmosphere, and never in front of anyone like this. He accepts the wine but doesn't drink it right away, at a bit of a loss for how to react to this while his mind is racing. What's even wrong with him? "I'm--" he stammers, taking a sip of the wine, and then a longer drink, "--I'm sorry about your mother."
That is far more like it. The ground is familiar here, something Thor needs badly in this land where everyone hates them and their ways.
"She was a good woman," he says solemnly. That is also what one is supposed to say. He has spent much of his life knowing what one was supposed to do and say and doing and saying it, and yet here he is, mourning the premature death of his mother in a hostile land as his own is overrun.
"And Minrathous a good city," he finally adds, heavily. "We have lost much."
A quick nod, staring into the glass, and then Bene finally takes a sip. The taste is grounding, but he's still nervous, especially when Thor mentions Minrathous. Is there anything that hasn't completely fallen apart in the last few months?
He nods numbly, looking at the floor. Mother would know what to say next, but she isn't here.
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"Wait. Have a drink of wine and breathe." Three houses. Four messes. They may not be doing Tevinter proud here. He's certainly not done his mother proud.
no subject
"I'm--" he stammers, taking a sip of the wine, and then a longer drink, "--I'm sorry about your mother."
no subject
"She was a good woman," he says solemnly. That is also what one is supposed to say. He has spent much of his life knowing what one was supposed to do and say and doing and saying it, and yet here he is, mourning the premature death of his mother in a hostile land as his own is overrun.
"And Minrathous a good city," he finally adds, heavily. "We have lost much."
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He nods numbly, looking at the floor. Mother would know what to say next, but she isn't here.