Marshall Lee the Vampire King used to be alone. He wandered the world without any attachments. He didn't depend on anyone, and no one needed him either.
But then he met her. That fiery warrior with golden hair and a killer punch. He loved teasing her, playing with her mind. He couldn't get enough of her reactions, of seeing so many emotions on her face. When she finally figured him out, he felt a little bummed, but that didn't last long. There was still plenty of fun to have with her, that amazing Fionna.
He watched her grow into a strong young adult, and found that her fierce qualities only magnified with age. She was brilliant, to say in the least. She was like sunshine to him. She didn't shy away from him, unlike so many. His fondest memory was of her twenty first birthday, when their friendship turned into so much more. He was no first timer-no, he was centuries old and had more than a few runs around the block- but with her, it felt that way. Like she was the only one he'd ever been with. And it would stay that way from then on.
As she approached her thirties, Marshall Lee began to feel uneasy. Sure she was in her prime, but that, of course, wouldn't last. Like any human, she'd just get older. And wither. And die...The thought of it ripped his still heart into shreads. He couldn't lose her. He just couldn't. But neither could he make her into what he was. She was not meant for that. So he forced himself to smile, to laugh, to act as if nothing troubled his mind in his waking thoughts and in his dreams.
Then came the day when she left the heroing business. She was fifty then, fully gray, and more than a few wrinkles were on her. But she still looked beautiful, he thought. She always would. Nothing could change that, not even time itself.
Fionna was sixty-five when it started. At first, she forgot where she put things, or what she'd just said. But then she started forgetting other things, like the month, or where she was. Before long, she forgot she was old, and thought she was still a young girl, off fighting monsters and rescuing princes. Marshall Lee stuck by her, reminding her gently that she couldn't go on adventures anymore, or that she left her left shoe on the stairs. He kept ker from accidents, helped her dress, made her meals every day, and other things.
And then she just lost herself completely. She was bedridden, and stared off through the window outside, unable to remember the landscape or animals she saw. She forgot her name, forgot her friends' names-she even forgot Marshall's name. The day when she stared at him, not recogizing him at all, killed him. Never before had he felt a pain so complete-
Until the day she didn't wake up.
There was no noise, save for the howling wind as it made the early snow dance about the world. He held her hand, so frail now, and stared at her withered face. Even in death, she was so lovely it hurt him. Her soft white hair fanned out on her pillows around her, a magnificent halo for his warrior angel. Slowly, gently, he pressed a kiss to her brow, and whispered how much he loved her. How much he would always love her.
As soon as night fell, he set to work. The current prince was contacted, as was all of her still living friends. A special coffin was commissioned, one made of pure diamond and gold. Nothing but the best would hold her in her eternal sleep. She deserved nothing less.
The sun was shining when they buried her. Snow covered her headstone, and soon piled on top of her grave. Her friends gathered, mourned and moved on. But not him. Not Marshall. For many days he laid on her grave, unable to leave. He just couldn't.
'Fionna the Human
Legendary Warrior,
Loyal Friend,
Beloved Wife.'
There was no telling how long he sat near her grave and read thost words over and over, tracing the lines of the etching of his wife's picture. The portait was so vivid that it was as if it were really her and he could still feel the warmth of her skin, see the sparkle of her eyes...but it wasn't her. No matter how he wished it was.
By the time dark winter ended and the snow receded, he was a mere shell of himself. He laid himself out on her grave, closing his eyes as the world around him brightened. He could almost hear her voice, so full of life like it used to be before her illness. He remembered listening to her voice as she talked about her adventures, or small things. He remembered how she fierce she was as she fought criminals and monsters, yelling out her war cry. He remembered how she sobbed when they learned she could never have a child of her own. Each moment was so precious.
His skin felt on fire. But then again, it really was. Dawn had come, the sun shining unrelentingly on him. But the pain of his death was far from his mind. There was only one thought anymore, the only thought that could still be held in his mind-
'I love you, Fionna.'