It hadn't been much.
A few words, some quick glances, a handful of fights. Half a year of an endless game of cat-and-mouse.
It hadn't been much.
For months, they had not seen each other. No safe way to ask, and no real reason to. Sleepless nights, tossing and turning, wishing on every shooting star that they might hear a whisper, catch a glimpse, some way to know that the other was alive. And then the cave. Their hearts had nearly burst with joy. You're alright, they had wanted to whisper in the other's ear as they held each other close, feeling the solid heat of their bodies pressed together. Harsh words, at first. Tears. An unexpected apology and similarity. Kindness and understanding, on both sides.
It hadn't been much at all.
Heartbreak. One breaker and both broken. One stone for two birds. A betrayal, an unforgivable offense, all gentle words burned away in a single moment. Hope struck down in its most dire hour. A fighter leaving, a warrior holding back. Both forced into a world they do not understand or wish to face alone, because ever since that cave they have not let anyone else become close. Their wounds are still healing, still pulsing an angry red and sometimes, late at night, while looking up at those endless stars, reopened.
It had not been much, it had been all too much.
Revelation. Revolt. Repentance. Groveling, begging, pleading. Hurting, angry, unforgiving. One wound from the past had been sliced opened with the heart, and somehow stitched together. An offer of revenge, gladly taken. A moment of terror, of power, of remembrance, of release. Bitterness washing away with the rain. Forgiveness sets in, binding the two shattered pieces together tentatively. They both know better now.
It was not much.
A final battle to end one hundred years of bloodshed. One pair, with healing hearts, flying back to where a journey began. A fight, blood against blood, for a birthright. A shot in the dark. A shot at his heart. A cry of panic, of disbelief, of fear. The ultimate sacrifice: a life for a life.
It was not much. It was not enough.
A tearful end on both sides. One chained, the other just as heavy in spirit. Angry, hot, painful tears streaming down a face and resting on the other. Sharp breaths, now numbered. A fruitless fight to stop the counting. A gentle touch, a tender kiss. Gold fading. Blue glistening. Three final words.
"I love you."
It was not much.
It was not enough.
But it was everything.
A/N: Just a little something. A very little something.
Kinda sorta not really based on Cold Mountain. You need to listen to "You Will Be My Ain True Love" while reading this. Seriously, look it up on YouTube, and reread this. It just makes it more... right. It's what I was singing while I was writing.
Hope you liked it!