Empress (a Percy Jackson AU)

The Funeral

     Annabeth's head was bowed down by the weight of grief and the only consolations were the baby in her arms and the husband beside her. Luke squeezed her hand, giving Annabeth a bit of relief from all-consuming emotions in her mind.

     She looked up and Luke noticed that her eyelashes had been clumped together from crying. "I cannot believe he's gone," she said, her voice cracking.

     Her father's death had been a slow and painful process. A lump had grown in his stomach that no court physician could cure. Though he promised fabulous wealth to anyone who could cure him, King Frederick has died six months after the disease had taken hold. In the end, he had become a corpse of a man — not the king that Annabeth had known her entire life.

     "His spirit will be in Heaven soon," Luke whispered into her ear.

     Annabeth nodded dully. The baby in her arms was her son, Frederick, and he would be next in line for the throne after his parents. Annabeth had married Luke two years ago when she was 18 and the child had been born only a few months ago. His hair had just started to grow in and it was blonde and wondrously soft — like the down of duck.

A few feet away, her father lay as if asleep. His eyes had been closed several hours ago by his wife, Helen, who stood beside her two sons. Annabeth's mother had died trying to birth a boy who had died a week after his own mother. Annabeth had been only two, but she had dim memories of her mother and a mosaic of her still stood in the palace. Annabeth would visit it from time to time and imagine how different life would be like if her mother was alive.

      "It's time," the priest said, shuffling forward.

     He was a man a few years older than Annabeth named Ethan who was known for his knowledge and piety. It was rumored that he had freely given an eye to free a city from the barbarians. Though he was young, there were rumors he would become a saint.

      Four men came forward to carry the body to its grave. Frederick was clothed in his best clothing and his arms crossed over his chest, so that he resembled the cross. Helen gave a strangled whimper as the coffin was raised. Her twin sons, both who were only nine, were looking quite subdued. The baby in Annabeth's arms stirred and began to cry.

      "Shhh," Annabeth said, pressing her child to her chest. "Everything will be okay, Frederick."

    She had named her son after her father in hopes that he too would rule wisely. The mourners followed the coffin towards the burial. It was sunrise and they were all numbed by exhaustion and grief. The smell of smoke still lingered in the air — the reminder of the candles that burned all night in honor of the dead emperor.

     The procession came to a halt and Ethan began uttering the prayers for the dead. Annabeth closed her eyes and swayed. She felt the presence of her husband beside her, his shoulder around her back to support her. "This too shall pass," he whispered into her ear.

     Annabeth wondered if that was true. When you lost someone, could every truly be whole again?