Sorrow

As she lay dying in his arms, he realized that he truly loved her.

For the longest time, he hadn’t been sure – she had been his best friend, the person he always went to, be it for advice, hope, courage, or strength – she was his support; but he couldn’t be sure if what he felt was real. Of course, his brother was always there for him, too, in some ways she could never be– but even he couldn’t provide the feeling that she could. At first, he had thought perhaps it had been happiness that filled him up when he saw her – and, to a point, that was likely what it was. But now, he realized, only too clearly, it was love all along.

His heart raced with fear as her breathing gradually slowed, the gurgling sound getting softer and softer until he could hardly hear it anymore. This was the love of his life, and she was dying – the realization hit him hard, and his own breathing stopped for a minute. Then his heart started beating again, and he shook his head, denying it. She couldn’t be leaving him, she just couldn’t – she might be ready to go, but he knew he would never be.

He held her closer to his armored body as he breathed heavily.

“No, no, no, you can’t leave me, no,” He murmured into her hair, sucking in her scent - he hardly noticed it was mixed with the stink of blood and the stench of death; he was too busy memorizing the citrusy smell that always hung about her.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he pulled back from her to look at her face.

She had been coughing up blood painfully for a while now, but her lips, stained red with her own life blood, were now curled up in a peaceful smile, and her face was free of pain. She looked so happy and, as he watched – held her in his arms- she breathed her last breath, and the life in her eyes dulled until there was nothing left of the soul that had dwelled in her body.

Her body went limp, though her lifeless eyes remained open and the happy smile stayed upon her red-splashed face.

“No!” He screamed, still trying to deny what he saw with his own eyes – she was gone. Taken from him until he too died; his heart ached with pain and he cried out.

Tears squeezing from his eyes, he buried his face in her hair and wept, shaking her gently occasionally and asking her quit playing games and wake up.

Stubbornly, he kept trying to wake her, the salty water from his tears making red tracks down his dirty face and burning his lips and tongue all the while.

Her own face had tear tracks – little paths down her face which held no dirt. Cradling her closer to his chest, he rocked – back and forth, back and forth, back and forth – finding solace in the familiarity, letting his mind fall away from his command as he grieved his lost loved one.

He hardly minded the blood staining his lips as he kissed her forehead, cheeks, lips - any part of her face he could reach – he was discouraged when she didn’t laugh and shove him away, telling him that she’d fooled him well this time.

“Why did you have to go?” He sobbed, closing his eyes from the scene he had seen in nightmares.

“Why do you weep, child?” A deep voice asked the soldier. He didn’t have enough heart to look up at the person who was talking to him, but he answered, too tired to take offense of anything.

“I loved her… and I never told her. And now she’s gone, and I’ll never see her again,” He answered bleakly, never once looking up from his love’s face.

“Child, do you think she never knew this for herself?” The other person asked in a tender voice.

“She knew, I think… But I just.. Never told her,” he answered, wiping away a few of the tears that had gathered in his eyes.

“Would she want you to feel so horrible for your mistakes? Would she not forgive you?” The other asked compassionately in his deep voice. It reverberated through him, but he took no notice, thinking instead upon the words that were spoken.

“I – I.. No, and yes, but I know I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” He said, bowing his head and closing his blood shot eyes as though in prayer.

“My son, instead of dwelling on the mistakes you made, remember instead the good memory, and honor it,” The man advised in an all knowing voice.

The solder held the bloody girl closer and sniffled, pathetically nodding his head up and down, realizing the wisdom in the other’s words. Of course, his love would want him to be remembering the good times instead of the bad – but that didn’t make it easier to forgive himself.

When he looked up, the other was gone, and he vaguely wondered where he had gone. Regardless of where he went, however, his words were correct – so he let go of his self anger for a moment and gave into his sorrow – for his lost love, his best friend, and his inspiration.

A/N: Just a little piece to let you guys know I’m still alive. :)

This is really open to interpretation – I’ve decided to do one of those 100 theme challenges, so this is Sorrow. It’s basically about some soldier – it could be one of the kings, or a simple faun, if you so wish – who has just lost a loved one. Of course, the deep voice is Aslan, but if you really don’t like that idea, you can imagine it to be someone else. But it was written with him in mind.

I didn’t dig too deep for this one, because I’ve never experienced something so heart breaking. I realize, therefore, it won’t quite be as powerful as the actual event would be – this is just speculation, I suppose.

I would love to hear your constructive criticism!

God bless you and yours,

Bookwurm23