~HER~

Is this what death feels like? I thought it was supposed to be painful. It isn't. It is like a dream. My body feels...cold. Wait, I still feel? Then...I must still live. Not for long though. I can feel it all fading.

I have no idea where the arrows came from. From which direction were they fired? I'm sure they belong to an orc, though. There are two; two shafts have pierced me. I remember the first one for it was the only one that hurt.

I remember hearing the faint sound of that arrow being released and slicing through the frozen wind, almost singing; strange, to think of it that way. A song, a crescendo that reached its peak in a excruciatingly painful jolt that brought me to the ground. I found myself half kneeling as I looked down and saw the arrow sticking out of my right kneecap, hardly believing what had happened.

I had been hit!

I saw the crimson begin to leak out around the base of the shaft and drip onto the ground, juxtaposed with the pure white snow. The world around me became a haze of mute ivory. I blinked hard, looking around frantically for the archer. I saw no one. Nothing except death strewn among the ruins of Ravenhill in the form of the black corpses of the orcs I had slain. Their dark blood stained my blade. I saw no others. The archer is hidden somewhere, waiting to fire again. I could almost feel death breathing on my face.

"Mikayla!"

My heart jumped, ricocheting off my rib-cage. My head, like that of a panicked animal, was swinging around as my eyes searched desperately for the one whose voice had called me; one that I would know in an instant. Where was he? I didn't see him! But I knew he was there; I could feel him.

"Thorin!"

My call cut through the thin air; my throat, hoarse and burning with Winter's sting. I looked around even more but I still didn't see him; I didn't see either of them.

"Look out!"

His shout rang out again, but far too late. The echo of his cry was then mixed with the arrow's song, hissing through the air.

I didn't feel this arrow, the one that is now draining my life. I didn't feel it pierce my throat. I didn't feel it steal my voice. All I felt was a jolt then suddenly I couldn't breathe. I reached up and felt the stem of it sticking out of my neck. I saw the blood on my hand as I pulled back. But, there was no pain. Is that supposed to happen?

In that moment, all sense of being melted away. I was falling through a wintry abyss; every limb and sensation mingling and fusing with the pale nothingness. An eternity happened in a moment and a moment, in an eternity. I was lying on cold, white powder, staring up at the grey sky and watching the snowflakes fall from above. Has it been snowing this whole time? I didn't even notice. I knew there was snow but I didn't notice that it was snowing. It's so beautiful. In death, I now discover this beauty; how tragically poetic.

In the distance I hear a cry; one of either defiance, rage, agony or all three. Then, I hear a wretched, inhuman scream, like that of some vile creature having just met its end at the tip of a steel blade. I know that it is Thorin, and he has found the archer.

A few moments later, I hear the sound of approaching footsteps, running and heavy; weighted down by fear and fatigue. Suddenly, I feel myself being lifted and gently cradled in a pair of strong arms. My face is then pressed against freezing chainmail that is entwined with a familiar warmth and musky scent that is mixed with the scent of blood and sweat. And behind it, a heartbeat.

"Mikayla?"

I hear that voice calling me again, far away and distant, but still comfortingly close. It's gentle yet slightly ragged, like it had been clawed by the Winter air. But I know that voice so well. I remember it whispering tenderly in my ear for so many nights, low and deep, speaking of things that were meant for no one's ears but my own.

Slowly, I will my eyes to open but is like my lids are weighted down by stones. At first, all I see is a pool of white, grey and blue all melted together in a blurry, dream-like image that soon dissolves into a crystal clear picture as my vision returns. I look up at him, focusing on his face; his beautiful face. He smiles down at me weakly. The smile doesn't reach his eyes.

I try to speak. "Thor-" I stop as a feeling, like someone's fingers wrapping tightly around my throat and squeezing hard, overtakes me and I start to gag, struggling to breathe.

I feel his arms wrap tighter around me as he pulls me closer to him. "Shh." He whispers hoarsely. "Don't speak. I'm here." His eyes flicker down to the arrow embedded in my neck and I see the distress in his expression increase. His eyes return to me. "I'm right here. Just hold on and keep looking at me."

And I do look at him. I don't want to look anywhere else. I stare, transfixed by only one thing.

Those eyes...

Never in my life have I seen eyes like his. Irises, deep and intense, like azure seas wrought with emotional storms. So captivating, so beautiful, so haunting.

And I would drown.

Every time I looked into those eyes, I would drown. Flailing, helpless and gasping; consumed by the waves. I've lost count of how many times I've died; how many times he has killed me with just a glance. But it was such a beautiful death, each time it happened. I was happy beyond anything, that if these were to truly be my final moments, the last thing I would see were those haunted seas. I would die one last time looking into those eyes.

Those eyes, like crystal ice reflecting the warm rays of the sun when accompanied with a smile or a laugh.

Those eyes, which seemed to carry the weight of the world within them.

Those eyes, which now looked down at me, laced with dread, sorrow and knowing. He knows as well as I how this is going to end. He knows my fate, and he doesn't want it.

I want to speak. I want to speak and tell him that there is no reason for him to despair. I don't feel anything; no pain, no fear, nothing. I feel calm and tired; at peace.

And I still love.

I want to speak and tell him that but all that comes out is a choked gurgle and that constricting feeling in my throat as my mouth is flooded with the taste of crimson iron that spills over the corner of my lips.

He pulls me closer and gently presses his forehead against mine, his long dark hair collapsing around us like an ebony curtain. "Shh." He whispers again as he starts to rock me like a child. That is all he says, though. He doesn't say anything else. It almost appears as though he can't. I can see it in his eyes. I see un-shed tears and unsaid words in his eyes. There is so much he wants to say but can't. Just as there is so much I want to say but am unable to.

My vision blurs then clears as I feel warm tears escape and run down the side of my face. I cry, not for the physical pain (there was none) but for the words I can not say. I feel him gently brush his thumb across my face, wiping away the tears before he rests his palm on my cheek with a tenderness that melts me. I feel his warmth soaking through his glove and I close my eyes, savoring that warmth for the little time I have. When I open them again I see that the corners of my eyes have grown dark. It would not be much longer.

He sees my life begin to slip and the dread on his face becomes more apparent. His eyes are pleading, begging me not to go. I want to answer; I want to obey. I'd give anything to stay with him. However, I feel myself being pulled in the opposite direction. My vision fades a little more. Weakly, I lift my left hand and grab his hand as it rests on my cheek, gently entwining my fingers with his. He responds by wrapping his hand around mine and pulling it to his face, softly kissing it. He then looked down at me, his eyes glistening and full of sorrow. But there was something else in there as well, something beautiful.

Love.

He looks at me now with love mixed in with his sorrow; the same love that he had confessed to me before many times with his tongue as well as his eyes. The same love that, no matter how many times I see it, still overwhelms me.

More was said with that one glance than with all the words that exist in this world.

I smile softly, answering him with my own gaze.

"Thorin, my love, my One. This is not the end. Be strong and remember me, please."

The words go unsaid but I know he sees them. He smiles back in response; a smile that is barely being held together.

That is the last sight I see before the world fades to black.

~HIM~

I pull her closer to me with gentleness, as if she would break should I hold too tightly. She was always so strong, so willful. But in this moment she seems so fragile and so vulnerable. Nevertheless, I cling to her with devotion, shielding her from the cold and Death's eager hands, stubbornly holding onto the hope that if I grasped her just tight enough she wouldn't leave; a hope that I knew, with half-numbed awareness, was false.

She tries to speak my name but only ends up choking and gasping for breath. I feel her body shaking and rattling within my hold and I tighten my grip in a pathetic attempt to stop her involuntary and painful trembling.

"Shh. Don't speak. I'm here. "I hear myself whispering.

My throat stings and feels like it has been torn by claws. For the first time, I look down at the arrow, the one that is slowly choking her, as if I just noticed or chose to notice it. I wish I hadn't! As soon as I fully behold that horrid black feathered shaft protruding through the fair skin of her neck and stained in her blood, my heart plummets and the dark reality of what had happened hits me like a stone wall. I turned away, not wanting to look at the horrible thing, instead choosing to focus on her face; her beautiful face.

"I'm right here. Just hold on and keep looking at me." I don't even know where the words are coming from.

I keep replaying the moment when it happened. I didn't see the archer at first. It wasn't until I heard that first arrow piercing the wind and saw her fall to the ground with that same arrow embedded in her kneecap that I saw him standing on a ledge not that far from me, grinning at having succeeded with his first shot. I wanted to murder him right then and there, but I was too far away. As soon as I saw him nock the second arrow on his bow, I felt my heart nearly stop dead. I called out to her, screaming her name. She responded by calling out to me. She didn't see me, and she didn't see him.

"Look out!" I heard myself shout, but it was like I couldn't say the words quick enough. The arrow was flying before I had even finished the last word. It flew through the air with a sound that seemed to be mute in my ears but at the same time deafeningly loud, echoing the scream that was rent from my soul when that arrow hit its target.

I barely remember killing the archer. I barely remember hearing the cry that rang from my lips as I attacked him or the feeling of my blade piercing his heart, the same way his arrow had pierced mine. I barely remember standing over his lifeless corpse before running down those stone steps to her side and lifting her up in my arms to cradle her gently. But I do remember clearly the look in her eyes when she opened them for the first time and saw me, looking at me with relief, recognition and all sense of uncertainty and fear melting away. I wish I could feel the same way.

I keep looking at her face, not wanting to look anywhere else or acknowledge the truth. I can't even look at the wretched arrow. The blood, the gashes, the wounds, I can't bear to look at them, not on her. It is a sin, a horrible crime, to allow something so pure to be stained with crimson; to be cut and slashed until bleeding. It is a sin to allow something so beautiful to be pierced and broken, and I am as guilty as the archer who had shot her. If only I had gotten to her sooner! She shouldn't even be here! She wasn't supposed to be! This wasn't supposed to happen!

I lift my head and attempt to cry out for help but the words die in my throat when I see nothing but the carcasses of several orc warriors lying around the ruins. Nothing but death surrounds us and we are alone. It is just the two of us.

But soon, it will just be me.

This revelation is like barbed wire ripping through me, shredding me apart on the inside. I look down at her and I try to smile although I know it is pointless. I am a ghost and she sees right through me.

I can see in her eyes how much she wants to speak. There is so much she wants to say but can't; the arrow has stolen her voice. She tries to speak again but starts to choke as blood spills over the corner of her lips. I pull her closer in another hopeless attempt to quiet her down as I press my forehead against hers. "Shh." I say. I try to speak more and tell her that everything was going to be all right but for some reason I can't. No matter how hard I try the words won't come out. It is like the arrow that has pierced her throat is now stuck in mine as well, strangling my words into silence. So many things I want to say, so many things I need to say.

"Amrâlimê, please. Don't go. Don't leave me here alone. Stay with me, please."

I see tears fall from her eyes and quickly wipe them away. I can't bear to see her cry. My hand rests on her face and she closes her eyes serenely with my touch. When she opens them I see the light in her eyes begin to flicker, like an ember that is barely staying alight and is in danger of going out at any moment.

"No, please don't."

She reads the plea in my eyes and responds to it by entwining her hand with mine. I pull her hand to my face and kiss it, taking a moment to savor the feeling of her skin against mine. She is already cold; her life is almost gone.

"Don't, please."

Tears sting my eyes as I look down at her. I know my grief is painted clearly on my face. Why would I try to hide it when I know I am so close to losing her and there is nothing I can do to stop it? I think about the life we might have had. She would have stayed in Erebor with me and I would have asked her to be my wife, my queen. We would have lived long with our new family and kin, ruling together over a prosperous and thriving kingdom. And we would be happy; above all else, we would be happy. But all that now feels like a broken dream.

"I love you."

The words I can not say are the ones I say the loudest. I know she can see them. Her eyes don't show any kind of anger, pain or fear. They are soft and warm, and full of love. She smiles faintly and I try to smile back, just barely keeping my face from falling apart. I feel her grip on my hand begin to loosen and the fire in her eyes start to fade away.

"No!"

I watch helplessly as that fire, that ember, slowly goes out.

/

What is grief? What is it, to lose someone you love? What is it to lose your One?

It is claws and knives tearing apart the soul; ripping open the heart and leaving it lying mangled in cold ash! It is the devastating, mutilated scream that is violently cleaved from the body in the midst of a smothering silence! It is darkness devouring light, fear crushing hope and despair murdering love!

It is death, of the most excruciating kind!

Now, it slashes through my chest and floods my lungs with blood; drowning me. I find myself unable to breathe. Why would I want to? I am already dead. The light I once had now lies lifeless in my arms. Extinguished, leaving me in darkness.

"Come back."

What is left of my heart cries, escalating into a loud wail.

"Please, come back!"

A plea, hopeless and pathetic, tears through me. There is no other sound I hear except that. But on the outside, I am silent. No words move past my lips as I gazed down at her, looking into the empty voids that were her eyes; just staring, bereft of life. I had hoped, I had prayed, I had begged to never see that look in her eyes. That blank, soulless look, reminding me that she was no longer here.

In her eyes, I have seen the sun, the sky and the rain. In her voice and her laugh, I have heard the song of the sea and the wind. In her smile, I have seen the radiance of Spring. And in her heart and soul, I saw an angel. All these things, far away and unreachable, I could touch. When I held her, when I kissed her, I became one with the heavens. It is a gift, a treasure, that so many people would sadly take for granted, and it was mine. But now there is nothing and I am alone.

"Mikayla..."

The first word I speak since she slipped away and it is broken, just like the rest of me. I run my fingers through her hair before leaning down and pressing my cheek against hers for reasons unknown to even myself. There are still traces of warmth left behind on her skin, mocking me with the illusion of life. When I pull away I see that her eyes are still open and empty. I reach up and close them with my fingers.

"She is sleeping now."

That is what I tell myself; the lie I accept.

Am I weeping? Am I sobbing? Am I screaming? Am I making any sound? I don't even know. If I am I can not hear it. Ever since her spirit left, mine has been suspended in limbo. I have fallen into a haze; a trance induced by shock. I sit there motionless, just staring into the void.

Finally, I feel I need to move. I try to stand, lifting her body up as it hangs lifeless in my arms. I can not leave her here; I will not leave her here. I don't even know where I will go, just anywhere but here. I stand, holding her limp form in my arms. But I don't move at all. I just stand there with my eyes cast down to the snow draped stone under my feet. I think about going back to Erebor and walking through the vast dark halls and suddenly realize that she won't be there with me. This leaves me walking through emptiness and hopelessness, which I feel pressing against my chest. They are like rocks tied to my ankles, dragging me down further into the asphyxiating waters.

That is when it finally sinks in and everything falls apart.

I collapse to me knees with her still in my arms as a cry, long and broken, erupts from me and rings out through the ruins. I hear it this time; the grief of my soul is torn out through my mouth for all to hear. The cry still lingers even after I stop. I hear my own sobs which replace it and feel the endless flow of tears that fall from my eyes. I remain there, holding her body in my arms. It is all that is left of her and all that is left of me.

I have fallen through the earth into a crushing black abyss, ripped away from her who now walks in sunlight and dances among the moon and stars, free of pain and sorrow. Far away, where I cannot reach. She sleeps above the clouds while I lie choking in the fog.

I have become stone ruins and broken glass; cold and crumbling in sharp, scattered shards.

I see no more and feel no more but my grief.

Without her, my whole world now fades to black.