To Iris, it seemed as if her father had been given some semblance of strength in the last few days. At the King's funeral, he had walked beside her with only aid of her arm and the cane he seemed to carry around at all times these days. But the next day? It was as if he'd found an incredible sense of strength. Takis spent the morning playing with Phillipa until her governess pulled her away to her studies. Iris had had to leave to Aetaea to deliver the supplies that Queen Persephone had allotted to her for the rebuilding. Her father's retainer had accompanied her and aided in the organization and movement of the goods to the various sections of the province and then Iris had returned without him and had made it back to Athenia the morning of the third day after the King's death.
It was only then that Iris had gotten the news of Persephone's disappearance. Iris had spent a number of minutes, her hands braced against her desk in anger, worry, and frustration that so many forces had been pulling her in so many different directions. Would she have been able to help her friend? It was unlikely, but the thought didn't escape her. The idea that there could have been something she could have done to stop it, stop the attack on the Palati, hung sharply on her shoulders. What was truly wrong with Athenia to suddenly find itself so disorganized and losing two rulers within less than a week?
It was for this reason that Iris found herself on edge as she stepped out of her office, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. With so little sleep gained over the last few days all she honestly wanted to do was crawl into bed beside Aimias and catch at least two or three hours of sleep before the sun rose too high into the sky. There was something alluring and comforting about her friend's-- husband's warmth that allowed her to find some semblance of peace in all of the chaos.
But Takis promptly caught her arm as she passed through the door. Giving a surprised yelp, Iris turned more into her father, putting an arm around him in order to hug him properly. "Papa," she laughed a little, keeping her voice low as she looked up into his face. "You scared me. What are you doing up so early?" Iris questioned, an eyebrow lifting in perfect curiosity.
"I was looking to take a walk," Takis said with a smile, keeping his daughter's arm in his own. "Care to join me?" he asked. Something in his face had changed and Iris couldn't place it. Was he bothered by something? Did he feel ill? What did that determined expression mean? Was he finding healing strength after so long? In a moment of naivety, Iris couldn't help but feel pure joy at the thought. Shifting her arm, she settled it properly into the crook of Takis', giving a slow nod and a soft smile.
"Of course," Iris said lightly, "I've missed our morning routine," she added, letting her father lead her through the back of the house and into the small garden that he had installed all on a whim of her mother. According to him, Demetra had been a vibrant woman with a love of nature. As they had had to spend so much time in Athenia when they were first married, she'd pleaded for beds of flowers and vines to make it feel just a little bit like home. Iris had adored this garden in the years that she had spent in Athenia herself. When she was first learning the ways of court rather than the wild ways of soldiers and forests and sprawling footpaths.
Their stroll through the small garden was slow, easy. Fast enough to be considered exercise but slow enough for them to enjoy quiet company and conversation as they made pass after pass through the paths. They laughed and discussed nothing in particular, simply enjoying the company between father and daughter. Finally, Takis encouraged Iris to get a little bit of sleep, promising to see her when she woke.
Giving her father a soft kiss to his cheek, she left him in the gardens and trudged to her rooms. Undressing with silent ease, she crawled into bed beside her husband. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. More relaxed and at ease than she had been in a number of months, Iris didn't even wake when her husband left the bed and got ready for the day. But she did wake at the frantic calling of Elpis and the pounding of bare feet on stone and the throwing open of the door to her rooms. Iris shot up with alarm in her eyes, her heart racing faster than it ever had.
Elpis took in a sharp breath, tears in her eyes as she stopped on the threshold. Words didn't come and Iris threw the sheets back, reaching for her chiton and dressing quickly. "Take me to him," was all Iris said, letting her cousin lead her through the house. Had he fallen? Had he taken to his bed after their walk? That couldn't be because they'd just passed her father's chambers. The door was open and the bed made as neatly as it always was in the mornings. No, they passed deeper into the manor, taking the same path she and her father had taken only hours before. Into that small garden that her mother had loved so much.
Iris almost couldn't pass through the archway, knowing exactly what she would find further back. A shaking hand reached for one of the marble columns, her breathing coming out sharply and back in so deep she thought she might pass out. Taking the first few steps into the garden, she navigated the same path they had taken earlier that morning, running on memory and a few shreds of happiness. But there she found him, lying face up on the back path with his head in Hanna's lap. Her aunt was stroking his hair, looking up from her own tears to her niece. Frozen in place at the sight, Iris didn't register whether her cousins or her husband were around, her gaze locked on her father's peaceful face.
Approaching silently, Iris sunk to her knees beside her father, reaching out to touch him. He was ice cold. How long ago had he passed? How long had she been asleep? How long had it taken for anyone to find him? Leaning over her father's body, Iris pressed her ear to his chest, searching in vain for any heartbeat or signs of breathing. Anything at all that would tell her that this wasn't happening. That this hadn't been her father's end. That Takis of Argyris, faithful, stubborn, and loving hadn't died alone on this garden path with not a soul to ease his passing.
Something in the lady snapped, a sharp sob breaking in her chest as she lifted her head. Elpis was there then, putting her arms around Iris and pulling her toward her chest so that she could cry, shielded from the rest of the world. Iris' hands reached for one of her father's own, gripping it tightly as she turned her face into Elpis' chest and wept until someone else settled on her other side, Zoe, holding her tightly. Leda held onto Hanna, pressing her own mother's head into her shoulder with her eyes on Takis' body.
From there, everything was a whirlwind of tears, color, movement, and quietly murmured words. The Argyris women had taken Takis' body and washed him, anointing him with oils, and then dressing him in silence. With his body raised up for viewing, Iris stood at the side of the center room, feeling as if all of her tears had already been shed as friends, loved ones, and peers were permitted entry into the home to pay their respects. The furthest thing from her mind was the responsibility and duty that had just fallen to her shoulders. There would be a time and place to worry about that.
For now, she prayed silently to the gods to give her the strength she needed simply to withstand the burial of her beloved father.
In the silence of her mother's garden, Takis of Argyris, the Baron of Aetaea, was dead.
Aimias of Argyris
It was only then that Iris had gotten the news of Persephone's disappearance. Iris had spent a number of minutes, her hands braced against her desk in anger, worry, and frustration that so many forces had been pulling her in so many different directions. Would she have been able to help her friend? It was unlikely, but the thought didn't escape her. The idea that there could have been something she could have done to stop it, stop the attack on the Palati, hung sharply on her shoulders. What was truly wrong with Athenia to suddenly find itself so disorganized and losing two rulers within less than a week?
It was for this reason that Iris found herself on edge as she stepped out of her office, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin. With so little sleep gained over the last few days all she honestly wanted to do was crawl into bed beside Aimias and catch at least two or three hours of sleep before the sun rose too high into the sky. There was something alluring and comforting about her friend's-- husband's warmth that allowed her to find some semblance of peace in all of the chaos.
But Takis promptly caught her arm as she passed through the door. Giving a surprised yelp, Iris turned more into her father, putting an arm around him in order to hug him properly. "Papa," she laughed a little, keeping her voice low as she looked up into his face. "You scared me. What are you doing up so early?" Iris questioned, an eyebrow lifting in perfect curiosity.
"I was looking to take a walk," Takis said with a smile, keeping his daughter's arm in his own. "Care to join me?" he asked. Something in his face had changed and Iris couldn't place it. Was he bothered by something? Did he feel ill? What did that determined expression mean? Was he finding healing strength after so long? In a moment of naivety, Iris couldn't help but feel pure joy at the thought. Shifting her arm, she settled it properly into the crook of Takis', giving a slow nod and a soft smile.
"Of course," Iris said lightly, "I've missed our morning routine," she added, letting her father lead her through the back of the house and into the small garden that he had installed all on a whim of her mother. According to him, Demetra had been a vibrant woman with a love of nature. As they had had to spend so much time in Athenia when they were first married, she'd pleaded for beds of flowers and vines to make it feel just a little bit like home. Iris had adored this garden in the years that she had spent in Athenia herself. When she was first learning the ways of court rather than the wild ways of soldiers and forests and sprawling footpaths.
Their stroll through the small garden was slow, easy. Fast enough to be considered exercise but slow enough for them to enjoy quiet company and conversation as they made pass after pass through the paths. They laughed and discussed nothing in particular, simply enjoying the company between father and daughter. Finally, Takis encouraged Iris to get a little bit of sleep, promising to see her when she woke.
Giving her father a soft kiss to his cheek, she left him in the gardens and trudged to her rooms. Undressing with silent ease, she crawled into bed beside her husband. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. More relaxed and at ease than she had been in a number of months, Iris didn't even wake when her husband left the bed and got ready for the day. But she did wake at the frantic calling of Elpis and the pounding of bare feet on stone and the throwing open of the door to her rooms. Iris shot up with alarm in her eyes, her heart racing faster than it ever had.
Elpis took in a sharp breath, tears in her eyes as she stopped on the threshold. Words didn't come and Iris threw the sheets back, reaching for her chiton and dressing quickly. "Take me to him," was all Iris said, letting her cousin lead her through the house. Had he fallen? Had he taken to his bed after their walk? That couldn't be because they'd just passed her father's chambers. The door was open and the bed made as neatly as it always was in the mornings. No, they passed deeper into the manor, taking the same path she and her father had taken only hours before. Into that small garden that her mother had loved so much.
Iris almost couldn't pass through the archway, knowing exactly what she would find further back. A shaking hand reached for one of the marble columns, her breathing coming out sharply and back in so deep she thought she might pass out. Taking the first few steps into the garden, she navigated the same path they had taken earlier that morning, running on memory and a few shreds of happiness. But there she found him, lying face up on the back path with his head in Hanna's lap. Her aunt was stroking his hair, looking up from her own tears to her niece. Frozen in place at the sight, Iris didn't register whether her cousins or her husband were around, her gaze locked on her father's peaceful face.
Approaching silently, Iris sunk to her knees beside her father, reaching out to touch him. He was ice cold. How long ago had he passed? How long had she been asleep? How long had it taken for anyone to find him? Leaning over her father's body, Iris pressed her ear to his chest, searching in vain for any heartbeat or signs of breathing. Anything at all that would tell her that this wasn't happening. That this hadn't been her father's end. That Takis of Argyris, faithful, stubborn, and loving hadn't died alone on this garden path with not a soul to ease his passing.
Something in the lady snapped, a sharp sob breaking in her chest as she lifted her head. Elpis was there then, putting her arms around Iris and pulling her toward her chest so that she could cry, shielded from the rest of the world. Iris' hands reached for one of her father's own, gripping it tightly as she turned her face into Elpis' chest and wept until someone else settled on her other side, Zoe, holding her tightly. Leda held onto Hanna, pressing her own mother's head into her shoulder with her eyes on Takis' body.
From there, everything was a whirlwind of tears, color, movement, and quietly murmured words. The Argyris women had taken Takis' body and washed him, anointing him with oils, and then dressing him in silence. With his body raised up for viewing, Iris stood at the side of the center room, feeling as if all of her tears had already been shed as friends, loved ones, and peers were permitted entry into the home to pay their respects. The furthest thing from her mind was the responsibility and duty that had just fallen to her shoulders. There would be a time and place to worry about that.
For now, she prayed silently to the gods to give her the strength she needed simply to withstand the burial of her beloved father.
In the silence of her mother's garden, Takis of Argyris, the Baron of Aetaea, was dead.
Aimias of Argyris