Funeral of Hearts

Nairn was in his study, not yet returning home. As it were, Megara was late to return this night, working. And when she worked late, so would he. Fair was only fair. It was not expected that someone would burst into the study, in a fit of panic. But the moment the door burst open, and he registered that the intruder was just one of the children of the Coterie, he released the knife he'd grasped.

"Haul— he meeds h-help." It was all the boy could think to say. And Nairn pulled a coat on, urging the messenger to lead the way; though he knew the way to the dormitories, and was aware who bunked where, as he'd created the assignments.

Once they reached the dorm, Nairn stood in the doorway, studying the sobbing child, curled fetal. His gaze scanned the room, blue eyes narrowing on the parchment in the center of the room, disregarded on the floor.

He stooped, reading through it silently. And then he neatly folded the letter, and settled on the floor beside of the bed. Boys, it may be best that you bunk in another room for the night. He smiled softly at the three of them; they were not much older nor younger than Haulean, each skilled, but not with grief. They, unlike the boy on the bed, were proper orphans.

As they departed, Nairn leaned against the bed, and quietly hummed. For a while, that and the rough breathing of the crying boy was all that could be heard in the room. And then he spoke: Tell me about your mother, Haulean. It wasn't an order, but it certainly wasn't a question. It was a way to gauge whether the boy cared to talk about her or if it was too soon.

He'd been staring at the door, now shut, with his back to the bed. But now, he turned to his side, back to the wall. What was she like? Talking about his mother had helped him, when she'd died. Though, the first time Bertie had asked about her, Nairn had about cut his throat over the question. After that, the topic never came up over training. It'd come much later, on an evening walk through the streets, on their way to a client's first meeting. And it had felt refreshing, that night, to talk about what he remembered of the woman.