I don't know why I never told her, I just know it was a mistake. Perhaps if I'd told her, everything would have turned out differently. Perhaps she would have been somewhere else –maybe with me- when it happened. Perhaps she would have had more to live for, more reason to fight. Perhaps she'd still be here today.
One day I will drive myself insane with perhapses, but that is all I can do now. I can no longer look forward to the future, because, for me, there is no future, not without her.
I remember her cold face, pale skin, damp hair, as if it were yesterday. Her lifeless eyes, usually so alight and happy, were so dull, so empty. Her blood pooled around her, soaking into the parched ground and staining it a violent red.
I remember the last thing she said to me, to move on. She would say that- she always put other before herself.
Couldn't she see that I would never be able to move on?
There would never be a substitute for her. She was beautiful, and not in an outwardly way. She was perfect, cared more about others than herself, always joking and optimistic and outreaching.
The love I had for her was not the sort full of burning passion and sudden desire –though, on my part at least, there was some of that- it was the love of friends that had become something more, unbreakable and unbendable and immortal.
She never told me that she returned the love, but I could see it in her eyes whenever she looked at me. A love so intense that I knew it would conquer anything in the world.
And yet I never told her how I felt about her, knowing that I could never marry her, knowing that I was bound by duty. I could have left my duty, but I never would. She wouldn't want me too, and she probably wouldn't let me.
I remember her so clearly, eyes dancing with laughter though her mouth showed only the hint of a smile. I remember her dancing, fighting, arguing, working, playing, and worrying. I will never forget her.
When I die –and my death will not be long in coming, I am sure, everyone is sure- I will find her, and finally tell her. We will be together at last.
Many fear death, but I look forward to it with eager anticipation. I would never kill myself –I have duty to my family, my friends, my king- but when death comes I will welcome it with open arms, just as I will welcome the arms of my beloved in the Realms of the Dead.
I can see her now, waiting for me, laughing and holding her arms out to me, waiting for me to reach her.
For I will always love Keladry of Mindelan.
Disclaimer: Tamora Pierce, as you all know, owns Tortall and all related matter. And I'm going to stop before I launch into a rambling speech about why disclaimers are pointless on ff net
Yes, I do seem to have an abnormal fascination with writing fics in which Kel is dead. It just seems… easy… to write about her being dead. I'm actually rather fond of this one, which probably means I will get a whole lot of reviews telling me how horrible it is, because whenever I post a fic I don't like everyone tells me it's good.
Whatever. I'm done rambling now, so click that little button like a good little reviewer… and if you have any fanfiction for a book I've read (besides Harry Potter0 I promise I'll read and review at least one of yours. Yes, I have resorted to bribery.