None of the characters belong to me, they belong to Mercedes Lackey
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I love Van! (And 'Lendel and Stefen)(Same thing really, but you get that). But I also love depressing stories, so if you want a nice, happy ending I advise that you don't read this.
Before n e 1 comments, I have read all the books. So I know I'm screwing the story line up.
This is set a before magic's promise.
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This is a one off.
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Please review!!!!!!
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Vanyel watched, as his reason for living, jumped and flew. But humans can not fly. And his love was human. This young man could not defy the rules that direct mankind. The ground seemed to reach for him. He was getting closer and closer to the bottom. Just as he reached it, Vanyel sat up in his bed, gasping in horror, silent tears streaming down his face.
Months later and he still spent the majority of his waking moments thinking of him; still saw him out of the corner of his eye; still missed him, as if the day had been yesterday.
Still loved him.
Vanyel got out of bed and walked to the table at the end of his room. On his way there he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that took up the larger part of one wall. Van smiled humourlessly. Once upon a time he would have spent hours each week in front of that mirror. Tylendel hadn't called him 'peacock' for no reason. Vanyel used to fill in his spare time by breaking hearts.
But that was a different person,
In a different lifetime.
Now Vanyel's dark hair was tangled. It had not been touched by a brush in weeks, if not months. His beautiful silver eyes were shadowed and haunted. He appeared to be gaunt, and malnourished. Which was true. Vanyel could not remember the last time he had eaten a proper meal.
But he didn't care.
All of his dreams, his hopes, and his humanity had disappeared on that night. True, he had been Chosen when his powers came. Vanyel loved 'Fandes, yet he still blocked her out of his mind. She did not understand. She did not realise that things were being set into motion.
Vanyel reached for the half full bottle of wine that was on the table from the previous night. He drank half of the remaining wine in one swill of the bottle. The alcohol no longer reached him.
Van could still hear 'Lendel's voice. Still feel his touch. Could still hear his name being whispered on the wind 'Vanyel, ashke…'
Vanyel tried to block the voices, the images, but couldn't. Even in death, just as in life, Tylendel was Vanyel's rock. Only. He wasn't there anymore. Vanyel tried to numb the aching void inside him. He reached for another bottle, and emptied it. Vanyel continued on this self-destructive path. There was no longer anyone to save him from it.
The next night there was a storm. The thunder crashed, while the lightning struck close, but Vanyel didn't notice. Nor did he care.
He had done it wrong the first time; had given them a chance to find him. Now everybody was locked inside, hiding from violence of the storm.
Vanyel was careful to keep 'Fandes out of his mind.
The silver blade glistened in the candlelight, it's edge honed to a razor sharp point.
He had to do it properly this time.
Vanyel tested the edge on his thumb and smiled as it cut easily into his flesh. He only needed to do one this time. Vanyel placed the blade in his right hand and quickly, before Yfandes realised what was happening, he dug deeply into his wrist.
A cry went up in the Companions field, but it was too late. 'Fandes fell to her knees.
Vanyel smiled softly in the pale light. He watched the blood pour out, appearing black against the light coloured flooring.
He knew that this time he could not be saved. That they would be too late. As he toppled forward, Vanyel's only thoughts were of 'Lendel, and how they would soon, once again, be together.
Destiny had been denied
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