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English
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Published:
2024-07-21
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924
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1/1
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Did you get enough love, my little dove, why do you cry?

Summary:

It's night when he finds it.
A sheet of paper, smaller than his hand, covered in hasty, hardly legible writing.
He thinks it reads 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' and 'goodbye'. He doesn't really remember.

I am so, so sorry.

Notes:

I cannot apologise enough for this oh my God I'm so so so sorry.
No Ruddiger for plot reasons.

Prepare yourself for suicide, death, suicide notes, funerals, corpses, drug overdose, depictions of grief and depression. If you don't feel comfortable with any of these things, PLEASE don't read. Put yourself first, okay? <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It's night when he finds it. 

A sheet of paper, smaller than his hand, covered in hasty, hardly legible writing. 

He thinks it reads 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' and 'goodbye'. He doesn't really remember. 

He runs to Varian's room, screaming his name, telling him to stop, to wait, to hold on, hold on for just a little longer. 

Varian's on the floor when he bursts in. Quirin practically staggers to his side, knees giving out when he reaches him, and pulls him into his arms. 

His face is a sheet, slack and pallid. Quirin puts his hand to his neck. 

There's no pulse. No breath. No heat. 

He's... 

He can't be...

A bottle lies at his feet. Sleeping pills. The doctor recommended them when Varian couldn't sleep. Insomnia and nightmares both. 

It's empty. 

He closes his eyes tight and holds his son in a one-sided hug. 

Varian... oh Varian. His poor, beautiful boy. His warrant, his baby, his light, snuffed out. 

Sobs pull out of his body like coughs. He splutters, fighting for breath, cheeks soaked with moisture, entire body trembling, gasping and sobbing for his precious baby boy. 

Come back, his mind screams, Come back to me, Varian.

Don't leave me here alone.  

Don't leave me like she did.

Only broken sobs come out of his mouth. 

Eventually, his cries subside into dumbfounded silence. He sits, soundless, with Varian pressed protectively against his chest.

Only a few hours ago, he would have squirmed away, laughed, protested adamantly against the affection. filled with life and joy.   

Now, he just sits, limp as a doll. 

In the books he and Varian used to read, death would split the sky. Rain would pour as if the heavens themselves were grieving. 

As it is, the sunrise is beautiful, cloudless. It bathes man and boy in obnoxiously bright orange light. The sky is cheerful, the sky is bright, the sky is mocking. 

A knock rings out from the front door, but Quirin's been knelt here all night. No power in the world can part him from his boy. 

A muffled voice calls his name - the mailman. He doesn't respond.

At some point, he hears retreating footsteps. 

He can't seem to muster the energy to be relieved. 

It's as if any capability to experience emotion has been sucked from his soul, leaving only an exhausted husk of human skin. 

He feels nothing. 

No, he feels sick. 

He holds his lifeless boy closer. 

 

 

A second passes. A week passes. A year passes. 

He can't tell. 

It's the mailman who finds them, eventually. He doesn't know how he gets in, nor does he care to, but suddenly he's there, in the doorway to Varian's room. 

Quirin looks up at him. 

He stares back, incredulous. 

Quirin looks back at the body.

Varian has never been (he never will be) well-liked by the villagers, but the mailman doesn't let any personal prejudices interfere. 

He sits by him and talks in a low, soothing voice. 

Quirin doesn't hear what he says. He nods anyway. 

When he next blinks, the Princess is at his side, accompanied by her husband. They speak to him in tight, practical voices. 

They cry. 

He feels nothing. 

The sky just watches, uncaring.

 

 

The funeral is a small affair. 

The Princess' ex-lady in waiting shows up, along with two former thieves and their father. The Queen attends, but not the King. A handful of villagers - the blacksmith, the mailman, a few others from Corona and Old Corona - along with the Princess and her husband. Adira, Edmund and Hector are there as well. 

They never even met him. 

Nevertheless, they attend, they pay their respects, they offer condolences and comfort to him. 

He doesn't hear a word. 

When the casket is brought in, a sombre fanfare fills the air. It's so profound that Quirin wants to rip his ears off. 

Still, it doesn't rain. 

When the casket passes them, the guests dip their heads respectfully, as if Varian is (was) anything more to them than an acquaintance. 

Quirin does not. 

He watches it go past without moving. 

He doesn't think he could if he tried. 

It's a closed casket. Quirin has only had a brief glance at him since the Princess came. 

He was lying with his hands on his chest, hair slicked out of his face, an orchid held in his bare hands. Forget-me-nots and daffodils lay peacefully around him, drowning out the stench of... of...

He looked as if he were sleeping. 

They set him into the grave silently. 

The Princess gives a speech. As does her husband. Quirin does too. He doesn't know what he says, but the guests listen in silence. 

Then they bury him in six-feet of dirt, right alongside his mother.  

The crowd disperses after a while. Some go back to their shops, their homes, their castles, but Quirin stays. 

His siblings remain at his side. 

Quirin doesn't look at them. He steps forward, trancelike, and places a bouquet of wildflowers on each headstone. 

Ulla - dearly beloved wife and mother - 1740-1769 - You will be missed.

Varian - dearly beloved son and friend - 1766-1783 - You will be missed. 

Despondently, he kneels down in front of them. 

His siblings stand at protectively either side. 

Tears fall from his eyes, water the soil, recently disturbed and old. Sobs break free from his chest. 

He presses his palms into eyes and curls in on himself as if he's a child. 

Edmund sits by him and rocks him side to side. Adira and Hector stand, reassuring with their presence. 

 

It rains. 

 

Notes:

Title from: Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens.

Remember to drink enough water, try and get some sleep, healthily and take care of yourself. I love you <3

(Completely unrelated to any of this but tomorrow will be a year since I got this account!!! Time sure does fly!)