gorysortofstory | Today Could've Been The Next Day of The Rest Of Your Life [for vowedtostay]

Today Could've Been The Next Day of The Rest Of Your Life [for vowedtostay]

He's in a meeting with a visiting Orlesian general when Josephine comes into his office. He can tell by her expression the news is anything but good, she excuses him and takes over the negotiations so he can head to the chambers he shares with his wife and their little boy, Cai. He was only a few days old, and very small and precious. They had hired the best healers they could find to take care of him, he visited the Chantry every day to pray for his survival.

He had never wanted a family, never dared to hope for one but now that had one? He wants to keep them no matter what.

When he gets into the chamber his stomach drops and he can tell by the expression on Betrys' face what happened -- that he's too late to say goodbye to his first child. He swallows thickly, trying to steady himself before he finally speaks. He doesn't want to make this harder for her.

"What happened?"

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"As long as you're sure," He says softly, a concerned look in his eyes. He can see the way this effects her every being -- he does not wish to cause her further pain that which she has already suffered. If he could spare her that, he would.

But he has a feeling there will be a long time before either one of them will be spared any pain.

"I am." He's being so strong for her, holding her while she cries all over him. She wants to be able to do the same for him. And she'd like to see the baby once more as well, to kiss his tiny hands and cheeks, before they...Maker, are they going to cremate him? The idea sends a shiver through her. It's proper, but... "Would you like to go now, or...?"

Whatever he wants, though it doesn't feel like wanting anything matters very much anymore.

He reluctantly begins to pull away, as if trying to gather himself, steel himself for what comes next. Cullen has been through his share of terrible things but he can honestly say nothing has ever felt as terrible as this.

"Now is good -- before other people start coming to try to console us."

He knows Josephine and Leliana will try to keep people from them but that'll only last so long.

"Yes." Wait too long, and it will be...different. She's seen what bodies look like when they've been left alone; the Exalted Plains were once filthy with piled corpses and buzzing flies. She can't bear to think of Cai's body deteriorating, and seeing it...

Betrys takes a deep breath, doing her best to steady herself on her feet without relying on Cullen, before looking up at him. "They took him...downstairs. I'll show you."

And before she can change her mind, she takes one of his hands and leads him towards the stairs down from their bedchamber.

He takes her hand and follows her downstairs and when they get there nothing could have prepared him for what he sees. He covers his mouth, his eyes watering with tears.

"Maker..." He trails off, unable to find any other words to say.

Betrys is half-afraid that his body will already have begun to discolour, like the bodies of soldiers on the battlefield, but he looks nearly the same as when they took him away from her. Small, too small, with delicate features and the promise of a mouth shaped like his father's, eyes closed. She almost expects him to open his eyes to them again.

Her legs are trembling beneath her, but she's determined to be strong for her husband. "Cullen..."

He swallows thickly, trying to find his words, his composure somehow. He is, after all, supposed to be the strong one here, isn't he? It seems easier said then done.

"I didn't expect..."

Him to still look so like him? He's not sure.

Cullen doesn't have to be the strong one right now. He has every right to mourn, even if it's hard, and Betrys wants to help. She wraps her arms around his waist, hugging him close, her cheek on his shoulder. "I know."

He hugs her back, as if doing it from muscle memory alone. He feels frozen, trapped in this moment.

He doesn't say anything else. What can he say?

Betrys is trying not to disappear into the Herald of Andraste, but it's hard. In the face of their shared pain, the temptation is to call up a capable facade and hide behind it, but Cullen needs his wife, not Thedas' religious figure.

She stands there with him, holding him close, and lets the silence of the room envelop all three of them. And then, finally, she speaks in a low voice.

"We could hold him, if you'd like." She's not sure if he would like that, but it's something to say.

"If I hold him I will never let him go."

If he takes him now -- he's not sure he could put him down, to admit it's the last time he'll ever hold his son. Perhaps it's cowardly but it seems easier not to hold him at all.

She hugs him tighter to herself, feeling tears rising in her again. There's no time for them, though, not when Cullen's voice sounds so broken.

"I just don't want you to..." Her words, already a whisper, die away--and what a horrid phrase now, die away. Betrys presses a hard little kiss to his shoulder, buying herself a moment to pull herself together. "I don't want you to regret it if you don't."

"I know."

But he has no idea if he will or not, or if he'll regret holding him. Nothing feels like the right choice. There are no right choices in a situation like this.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," she murmurs, her eyes on their son's body. He seems even smaller than he did before they took him away. Perhaps when his soul returned to the Maker, it took away some part of him. "We can just...we can look at him. Or I can hold him for you."

"Let's just look at him for now." And perhaps then he can figure out what the hell he wants to do next. How do you decide something like that?

"All right." The longer she looks at him, though, the more she remembers that they'll have to turn his beautiful little face to ashes. It hurts more than anything, realizing that soon, there won't even be a body--only the memory of his struggling little breaths and the way holding him to her breast felt so warm and right.

She has to turn her face away, burying it in Cullen's shoulder, at those thoughts.

He closes his own eyes, tightly holding her. He wishes he could reassure her, tell her everything is going to be alright but right now? It feels as if nothing could ever be right again.

And that hurts deeply in his chest.

It doesn't feel like his embrace helps, exactly, but she knows she'd feel worse if she were here alone, without him at her side. And so it must, even if she still feels like she could break down and weep.

"He looked like you." More than anything, she's afraid she'll forget all the tiny details of Cai's face. "A nose just like yours."

"And hair just like yours, but curlier."

He's not sure he'll ever forget. Instead he's pretty sure the image will be burned into his memories, to be included in the nightmares that already plague him most nights.

"He was such a handsome little boy." And so much potential. Her throat feels like it's closing up, growing hard and cutting inside her body. Her voice shrinks to a strained whisper. "It's not fair, Cullen."

"It's not. I don't know why the Maker would do this." Hadn't they both endured enough? Why put them through this?

"He works in ways we can't understand now." That's what she's always been told, and she's believed it, too. It's incredibly hard not to respond with it isn't His fault but mine, though; her instinctive reaction is still to blame herself and her failure to carry the baby long enough for his lungs to grow. Her voice drops low, admitting something that hurts to say. "But that was easier to believe a few days ago."

"It will become easier to believe again, though I know it doesn't seem like that now."

Cullen has suffered many horrors and while this beats all of them he's not sure he can afford to lose his faith now. Not when he needs it most.

"I hope so." For all she's studied and prayed, she can't seem to remember anything to comfort her right now. All she has is Cullen's promise here and now. "We'll get through this. We have to."

They've lost enough already. She doesn't want to lose him as well.

"We will. Together."

They've lost too much already, they have to get through this together if they're going to get through it at all.

"I love you." She's not sure if she's talking to her husband. Perhaps both of them--if one can be said to speak to a body whose soul has already begun its journey back to the Maker. She hopes Cai doesn't have to travel through the Fade for more than a moment or two. The thought of him lost there, wandering for want of his mother and father...her heart clenches. She can't think about that right now.

Betrys reaches for one of Cullen's hands, wanting to feel his fingers entwined with hers. "What now?"

"For now, we keep to ourselves. Eventually we'll have to talk to the public but for today Josephine can handle that."

They deserve some privacy after everything else they've gone through.

"And tomorrow..." Maker, she'll have to say something. The people at Skyhold will be clamouring for some kind of comment; she remembers just how excited everyone was for the baby in the first place. Betrys sighs, squeezing his hand. "I suppose we'll see tomorrow when it comes."

"Exactly. We'll take it one day at a time." He thinks that's the best anyone can do in such a situation.

Betrys nods. One day at a time...and today, they'll rely on each other. "Would you like to stay here, or..."

"Just a little while longer." He finally says when he can find words.

"Of course." Part of her wants to say no, we need to go, take me away from this--but there's nowhere they can go that their son's death won't follow. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, burying her face against him. "As long as you want, darling."

And with that they'll stay like that until one of them can manage to tear themselves away, however long that takes

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Today Could've Been The Next Day of The Rest Of Your Life [for vowedtostay]

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