Sam stood at the edge of the abyss; the edge of the Otherworld. He had been stood here since the day he died, watching. Watching over Celaena. He had seen her cry for revenge, her capture, her year slaving away in Endovier. He still relished the feeling of justice as she had let the monster inside of her let loose, let the monster inside of her take action on the guards. But it wasn't enough. Then they came. They had taken Celaena, and since that moment, he had seen everything. He had watched every discovery she had made, every friend that she made, every relationship she had developed.

He knew that after Sam, Celaena's heart was broken. Really, Dorian had been the one to patch her broken heart up. Patch her heart up for Chaol. He had watched the Captain of The Guard's every move. He had seen the stolen looks, the jealousy, the dance when they were both supposed to be working. But tonight was the night, and Sam knew it. He looked down at Celeana. She looked truly beautiful, her dress swishing with every step, as beautiful as the ocean. And she was more so.

So Sam watched. He watched the look on their faces, as they gazed into each others eyes. Sam tried to remember back when she had looked at him like that, but it was so long ago that he could hardly remember. He sat watched through the meal, them talking as they looked out upon Rifthold. Waiting. He knew what came next, but it still felt like a slap to the face. Chaol and Celaena's mouths met, the same way that her and Sam's had all those years ago. He wondered if she still remember, how often she thought about it. Still, he continued to watch, even as they finally reached her quarters. He knew he should stop. This was wrong, so wrong.

But he had to know she was okay.

So he watched. At every movement, he flinched. The pain he felt was worse than the pain of that final night, worse than the pain of death. After what had seemed like an age, they were finally done, and Sam could make she was okay. So he did. He looked at the pair, knitted together, Chaol fast asleep, Celaena so close. He saw the look on her face, the smile that wouldn't budge, even as sleep wrapped it's dreamy tendrils around her.

It was then that Sam knew. He knew that she was gone, gone from him. Finally, truly, he had lost his assassin. It wasn't his death that parted them. It was her healed heart.

So, for the first time since his heart had ceased to beat again, Sam turned his back on the King's Champion and the Captain of the Guard, and walked away.