the way we say goodbye

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Her eyes remained on the counter as Sunjata did his best to make small talk that clearly neither of them wanted. But social cues were rarely his specialty. "Thanks." she said quietly, not really sure how to take that last part. Glad she was okay? Since when had he gotten so bad at lying? "I didn't have the fever though. Frey took me and made me a demigod." she said quickly. normally she would not have been so blunt. But the midwife hoped beyond hope that it would surprise him enough to keep him from saying more. Really, neither of them wanted to chit chat anyways. They could much more easily suffer in silence until one of them could leave than try to keep up pleasantries. If their past held true, it would only devolve into an argument after all - a pattern she had almost as much confidence in as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Thankfully it wasn't long after that Hank returned. "Five or six, ideally. It is probably going to take a few trips." she admitted with a small smile. And hopefully that would be enough to keep the northernmost wall from collapsing in on itself. Really, what had Maeve been thinking, putting off prepping the brothel for so long? Though she did have a lot on her plate, having the business suddenly dropped in her lap. But her mind was torn back to the present as her ears picked up on Hank and Sunjata's conversation. Her face paled, eyes widening slightly. Sunjata...had a child? The notion didn't compute in her mind, bringing it to a dead halt. Only once Hank addressed her and she was force to put on a small smile for the merchant's sake did her brain start racing again. Conversations, disagreements, old hurts, futures that could have been but snuffed out far too quickly by the blight... Again she dropped her gaze, realizing her fingers gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles went white. The Nightingale swallowed a lump of emotion in her throat, forcing herself to keep tears from rising as she struck once again by the unfairness of life. He had a child - a child! - the one thing she had yearned for since she could remember and twice over lost. A child he had insisted he never wanted, his relief at the one they had lost now replaced with another he had not been so lucky to avoid. And now here he stood, father of a demigod, buying her blankets with all the pretenses of a loving, doting father. "Congratulations." she finally managed in a tight voice. Still she didn't look at him, wet clumps of hair obscuring her face as she tried to reconcile what she had been told.