Without a King (Greatest Thief 1, mxm)

Bonus - The Reasons to Steal - Death

Six years before Without a King

Stria had always been very good at taking care of her little brothers and sister. As the eldest, it was her job to help her mother prepare food and keep the house clean. Usually she liked helping. Her little siblings were fun to play with, and helping with the other chores made her feel very grown up.

Every day, her father left so early in the morning Stria often didn't see him. Although some days, she woke to the sounds of him moving in the other room. She would carefully crawl out of bed so she wouldn't wake up her sister, and tiptoe to the door. It creaked a little when it opened, but somehow her father never noticed. She snuck closer and closer until she could throw her arms around his waist. He would chuckle quietly and turn around to scoop her into his arms. Then, after kissing her forehead, he would leave.

He worked at a tavern across the Lower City, where he kept drunk men in line. He was huge and strong. Stria's mother, on the other hand, was short and plump. She was always busy taking care of the house and the children, and for that reason Stria loved helping her. She loved knowing that her hard work meant her mother could take breaks once in awhile.

One morning, Stria woke to the sound of coughing. It was her father in the main room. Stria crawled out of bed, as she usually did, and snuck out into the main room. This time, when the door creaked, her father turned around.

"Not today, darling. I'm not feeling well."

Stria frowned. "Then you need to stay home and rest."

Her father smiled and shook his head. "I can't. I'll see you tonight, darling. Take care of your mother and the children."

"Of course," Stria agreed. She stood in her doorway and watched as her father left. It was so early that she then crawled back into bed and went to sleep.

The next time she woke up, she shook her sister and brothers. She picked up her youngest brother, and carried him into the main room after her other siblings. Their mother was making a stew, and it smelled wonderful. Stria put her brother down in the corner of the room, on the little blanket that served as his playing area, and went to see what her mother was doing.

"Can I help?" She leaned around her mother to look at the stew. It looked watery, but they were used to that.

Her mother nodded and gestured at a small pile of coins on the table. "Can you go to the market and buy some..." she paused. "Onions or potatoes."

"Of course!" Stria loved going to the market. It was fun to look at all the stalls, even if she couldn't buy anything. She gathered the coins and slipped them under the sash around her waist.

It took some time to get to the market. Stria stuck to the larger streets, knowing they were safer. She wasn't afraid of thieves, even though she saw a couple. They seemed to mostly target adults. Once along the street that served as the Lower City's market, Stria idly strolled along, looking at every stall curiously.

Eventually, she found a stall selling onions. They were small, but cheap, and she bought one. Further down the street, there was a stall with potatoes. Stria counted up her money, and was delighted to see that she could afford two. She paid, and started home, extremely proud of herself.

She was grinning when she pushed open the door. "Mama, I have-" Words escaped her as she saw her mothing lying on the floor. The onion and potatoes dropped from her arms as she rushed to kneel beside her mother. "Mama? What happened?"

"I slipped," her mother mumbled in reply.

"Let me help you." Slowly, Stria helped her mother stand, and walk over to a chair. She instructed her sister to grab a blanket, which she tucked around her mother's shivering body. "Don't worry, I'll prepare the stew," she promised.

Her mother smiled weakly. "You're such a wonderful daughter."

Stria returned the smile. She gathered the onion and potatoes, and got to work slicing them up and adding them to the stew. When it was ready, she scooped some into bowls for the children, and brought a bowl over to her mother. She was too weak to hold the bowl, so Stria helped her eat.

As the day wore on, Stria helped her mother move into her bedroom. She divided her attention between keeping her mother comfortable, and keeping the children entertained. Until, one by one, they got sick as well. They were all small enough to carry, so Stria took them all to the bedroom and made sure they were comfortable and warm.

She served out more stew in the evening, and had to help everyone eat except her littlest brother, who was so deeply asleep she couldn't wake him.

Stria was getting scared, despite her efforts to be grown up and brave. After she had eaten a bit of stew herself, she knelt in front of her family's tiny shrine. There were three small statues placed there. The largest was Catul, the God of fatherhood. The second was Sunia, the Goddess of family and mothers. The tiniest statue was Eogan, the child-god of children.

Stria started to cry, and between her tears and sniffles tried to recite one of the old Ziannan prayers her parents had taught her. But she was afraid and couldn't remember the meaningless words, so switched to Teltish. "Please take care of my family..." she whispered. "Please ask Anniva to visit us tonight. Please, Catul, make papa come home soon. Sunia, please help my mother and bless our house. Eogan, please... they're so young..."

She was still crying in front of the shrine when her father came home. She threw herself into his arms before noticing how sickly he looked. His skin was pale and warm to the touch. Stria drew back. "Papa?"

He was looking around the room with wide eyes. "Where's your mother? And the children."

"In bed."

"Are they sick?"

Stria nodded. The tears that had stopped at her father's arrival tried to resurface, but she blinked them away. "I'm taking care of them. I'll take care of you, too," she said firmly. "You need to rest." She took her father's hand and lead him to the bedroom, where he promptly collapsed next to her mother.

They were dead within the week. Afraid and unsure of where to go, Stria stayed in the house. She slept in the main room by the fire and left the bedroom doors closed. She drank the last bits of stew, which had only lasted so long because her family had stopped eating. She broke her family's little shrine in a fit of sadness, then immediately tried to fix it in a fit of panic.

A few days later, during Lothian Dusk, men came to the house to clear out the bodies, and they chased her out. Stria hid in the shadows down the street and watched the men carry out the wrapped bundles of her family, and with them, her whole life.

She was lost.