A/N: Playing around with first person perspective. Why do I always write at 3 in the morning? Hmm...

This could be connected to "Eternal," if you so wish.

The morning of the battle I wake with a start. I don't even register waking up, only the sounds of reality rushing back towards me. I see weapons in the distance, and the small fire still burning to give light. My skin feels as if it's absorbing that fire, as heat dances in my flesh. My stomach, my chest, my eyelids, they're all heavy as stone. I breathe a few times.

It didn't happen, and we're alive.

For now, of course.

The last thing I saw before I woke was her face, shocked like a fish pulled out of water. And blood on her neck in clean line. I shiver again, wanting the image to leave my mind forever. The prophecies always seemed the most real, the colors more vivid, the sounds still ringing in my ears hours later. They always took the longest to shook off, to trust everything around me was in fact real and happening in the present. To figure out if it could possibly come true, and how can I prevent it. Time I didn't have now.

I glance fearfully to my side, and with a breath, finally accept that she is truly alive and breathing beside me. Gods, she looks so serene right now. It is the only time I ever see her looking like this, and usually I feign the urge to run the back of my hand along her cheek or stroke her hair. My affections could be hidden by darkness, and then I pretend they didn't exist in the day time. Leaning back against the furs again, I realized how lucky I am, to able to enjoy my last few hours with her; with my soulmate whom I love as much as much as the stars endure the night. I could never tell her of course, how silly it would be for her to return similar feelings. I had no doubt that she loved me, however she did, but I was not willing to risk my friendship with her over inquiring this.

I set my gaze over the light hitting her hair, then the fire making her leathers and skin seem to glow. Perhaps I could tell her…considering the little time I had left. I could leave this place knowing..but not knowing is a different sort of bliss.

I am still breathless, and I'm not sure it's even all from the poison.

I mused on this for just a moment, and knew I never could tell. It was no matter. I could never risk it, the bond that we've made and the friendship that has survived all the trials it had. Forcing the thoughts of Hope, of Solan, of Chin of everything that had caused us grief, I tried to focus on her breathing and every good memory I could think of…Fishing. Learning to use a staff. Her smile. Joking, laughter, splashing wars in bath tubs. Getting to know each other better than we knew ourselves. The companionship. The campfire talks, although I would end up doing most of the talking. Writing by the fire, while she sharpens her sword. The colors in these memories were sharper; brighter. The sounds and words spoken seemed to echo. Calmness washed over me, combined with a sort of an accepted sadness.

But thank the gods, thank who ever was up there that I have this moment and that the dream was only a dream for now. Tentatively I ran my hand over her dark strands, then my hair wander over the soft skin of her back and shoulder. I felt my eyelids become heavier, and as I focussed on her even breathing. As I fell asleep for what seemed to be my final night, I prayed that her nights would always remain peaceful, and her breathing always this even. I prayed that she would know I would always be there. I finally closed my eyes with this thought in my mind.