A/N: I'm trying out a new thing where I write One-Shots inspired by specific songs, so do yourself a favour and listen to the song "Stone" by Jaymes Young while reading this. It really helps getting the right emotions across.


It was cold. Freezing. Morrigan tugged the collar of her coat closer as she rode through the storm. The tears on her cheeks had frozen over, leaving her numb.

Wind whipped at her face and tore at her braid as her steed raced through the snow. She laid a palm on its neck reassuringly. To reassure herself. Her hands were trembling.

Rhysand…

The raging storm seemed to call his name. Taunting her. Begging her to join him.

They came to an abrupt halt at the cliff. The horse reared. Mor tightened her grip on its mane. And she climbed off.

Her boots sunk into the fresh snow with a soft crunch. Silence. The pale moonlight reflected on the ocean tides way below her, beyond the jagged rocks of the cliff. The waves raged. Raged, like the fire in her heart that went out when she saw him lying there.

Rhys. It wasn't supposed to end this way.

Snowflakes danced around her in a flurry of white, soundly landing on her hair and eyelashes.

She took a step towards the chasm.

One last time, she decided to look up at the night sky. The complete darkness. Suddenly a flash. A shooting star with a trail like molten silver that invaded that emptiness, outshining even the moon. She heard his voice in her head. Telling her to stop.

She hesitated. Doubted. What difference would it make to anyone if she were gone?

She heard the voice again. Louder this time. To turn around and rejoin the others in Velaris. To be with them. With Azriel and Cassian and Amren. But most importantly, with Feyre.

Mor didn't know if it was really him, or her trying to convince herself, but when she heard the unspoken pleads within those words, she fell to her knees.

"It's not fair!" She sobbed, burying her nose in her hands. Her eyes stung and the snow soaked her clothing, but she remained on the ground. "Why did it have to happen this way?"

Like a sudden spark of life within the utter loneliness that tore at her being, she felt a warm hand stroking her hair. In shock, she spun around. But no one was there.

"Rhys…" Her eyes were wide as tears spilled down her face, "I'm so sorry…"

The sound of crashing waves spilled though the empty air, like an orchestra of cymbals.

Her lips had gone blue.

She dug her fingers into the snow, longing to feel something. Anything other than the throbbing pain in her heart. Her hands burnt. They burnt like the smoldering flames in the firepit of the townhouse and stung like the sharp winds on the balcony of the House of Wind.

She felt something hard. Jagged. She flinched. Without hesitation, Mor pulled the rock out from beneath the layers of snow as the white started to turn red. She didn't bother blocking the blood flow from the cut on her hand.

The voice never returned. Neither did his soft hand on the back of her head. But she felt Rhysand. There.

She stood up and screamed as she hurled the small rock as far as she could into the open ocean. The tides roared back at her.

Mor clenched her fists as she stared out at the open horizon where the sun slowly started to rise. And she turned her back.

Hesitantly at first, she made her way back to her steed, silently running a hand along her flank, leaving a faint trail of blood. She paused before mounting.

The snow had stopped. The sky had cleared. She heard faint laughter in the back of her head. The same laughter she had learnt to love over the past decades.

And Morrigan laughed through sobs as she trudged through the snow, leading her steed by the reigns and whispered, "We're going home."


Tell me what you think and if you'd like more one-shots of this type, and if so, what songs I should work with.

I hope you enjoyed this little experiment.