Author's Note: Hey Guys! So, with only a small while until the final book of the series comes out, I decided it was time to post this. It's pretty short but I felt it necessary to write a small homage to a scene that may or may not ever happen.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Raven Cycle
Poppy red cloud bathed the sky, light gasped it's final breath over the lush fields. Crystalline waters lay still, as if waiting for something or someone to rise it from slumber. Even Cabeswater recognised and sorrowed at the fall of a King.
Long fingers lay still and stiff; the congregated gaggle almost expecting them to twitch as they often would, or rise to rub absentmindedly along a now cold lower lip. Soft wisps of breeze caressed brunette locks, treasuring the final moments of seeing such a noble hero. Richard Gansey III looked serene just as he always had: his skin was still an unblemished, tanned spectacle - his polo shirt still an unbearable shade of canary yellow - his presence still greatly affecting those around him. Only now his skin was cold, his shirt starchy and still, his presence lacking the comfort it usually held.
For Gansey, was gone.
He had passed from the world of mortals; to somewhere he may meet the Kings and Magicians he so yearned to be true. Kings and Magicians that held little allure to them now. Now, they only wished to have their friend and leader back.
They stood in a circle, a barrier of bodies protecting him from further harm; their efforts pointless for nothing could reach him now. The four of them, all so different, could only have been brought together by him. Only for him would they carry on the fight of each day. Only for him had they adjourned on that unpopulated shore with tears shrouding their vision. Four uncertain pillars of weariness and conflict, now stood teetering on the brink of wavering with the loss of their stream of certainty; their rock of constancy; their ever warming sun.
Blue was internally inconsolable. Her heart felt as if it were torn open and spiked with salt. Tears scathed her eyes; sobs wracked through her, but she held together. She was Blue Sergeant and she would be strong for the man she loved. She would not cower from reality. But, right then she decided she hated the world.
Adam felt nothing, as if all hurt and joy had left the world along with Gansey; leaving only shapes and words behind. He allowed his tears to fall, like raindrops on a winter's morn - no longer caring what others thought of him or if it were the right thing to do. Right then, in that moment, he decided he didn't want the world. He just wanted his friends, together. Safe.
Ronan felt oddly at peace, knowing that Gansey had left doing what he wanted, being who he wanted. He'd past the agony of death, the emptiness of loss, now he faced the peace of knowing. His friend and brother, had lived and fought for what he cared for; staring death in the face every moment of his life. Yet Gansey had never deterred, and that made Ronan in awe of him. In his mind, Gansey truly was a King among men. Right then and there, he decided that enough was enough, he'd protect everyone else at the cost of his life. He'd live in Gansey's memory and protect what was once his.
Noah hovered beside them, unsure of what to say or do now. Why was he still here and not Gansey? He was dead and still remained, when Gansey had been alive and stolen from them. He decided right then to live the life robbed of Gansey. Continue the legend that was Gansey.
Blossom swirled in spirals on the soft air, gathering at the slumbering King's side. His body lay in a boat made in a dream - a fitting final vessel for a man who loved to dream.
"Farewell, Gansey." Adam placed a hand on the coarse wood of the vessel.
"Goodbye." Blue did the same.
"See you on the other side." So did Noah.
Ronan stayed back a moment, watching the sun set. The end of another day. The end of a dream. The end of an era.
Stepping forth, the four of them slid the boat off on it's final voyage. It was only as the ripples faded, the waters stilling once more; that Ronan did speak words that sailed on the wind's sigh:
"Sleep well, Raven King."
Soft mutterings of the humbled flora, spoke poetic stanzas as they mourned their stolen lord - minstrels without an archetype to follow:
"Without the sun, the world is locked in slumber. Without a King, the land is trapped in chaos." Without Gansey, Henrietta was a lonelier place. For them, there would never again be a sunrise; never again would they see the glimmers of beauty in the world: for now they were blind. Wandering spirits, traversing the parallel path in a never ceasing black that permeated through every person, every song, every syllable of eternity.
Vale, maxime rector aurorae. Vivaldi resonat tuum in aeternum.
Translation: 'Vale, maxime rector aurorae' - Goodbye, mighty ruler of the dawn
'Vivaldi resonat tuum in aeternum' - May your lullaby echo forever
I used Google translate so it may not be completely accurate.