Hello peoplez,

Okay I wrote this one when I was on my periods (I'm a woman) and is probably gonna be way overly dramatic and totally unrealistic coz, you know, Anya is one of those really cynical people. Okay! Let's just all pretend she's drunk (and we all know what happens there XD) but the story never says anything bout it. Or just really drunk-ly emotional (you know what I mean the red squiggly spellcheck line isn't gonna kill me) (stupid squiggly line).

Also, I'm sorry bout the author note being not properly edited, its just cause I take so much time zombie proof reading my fanfic that I really need some casual random button pressing witho9ut the fuss of mouse moving to click on the bloody word to bloody spell correct it.

Anya POV

I sat, cross-legged, on my bed with my hands on my lap, eyes closed, remembering yesterday morning when Ilom had his arms around me. Remembering that smell of musk radiating from his body. I smiled warmly at the lingering memory.

A soft knock on the door startled me from my reminiscing, I knew instantly that it was Ilom on the other side of the door. Leaping from the bed, I reached my arm out to open the door. I was greeted by Ilom's strong angular face, which softened when he smiled at me, "'Morning. I wasn't sure whether you were awake or not." Ilom started, placing his hand on the back of his neck.

"Good morning, Ilom. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" I replied, smiling back at him.

"I just had a few questions, if you don't mind me asking." I did. But for his sake:

"That depends on what the question is."

He hesitated, pulling his hand away from his neck, "Um," walking over to my bed, I patted the edge of my bed signalling for him to sit and sat down myself. He sat facing away from me, looking down into his hands and continued. "It's partially about what you said yesterday." He paused again, as if expecting me to reject the question. When I kept silent Ilom kept talking. "Say that, hypothetically, the king died: what would you do then?"

I was taken aback. I hadn't expected that kind of question. "To be honest, I hadn't really thought about it that far."

"Would you be happy that he's gone?" he pushed,

"Well, I guess so."

"What about you, huh? What would you do when you become queen?"

Become queen. The meaning of his words settled into my skin. I blurted out words that were more for my benefit, "I could make a change, to this nightmarish hell he's made of Ixia, and turn the place into something wonderful and…" My words trailed off as I realised the mental danger of becoming queen.

"And?" Ilom's voice managed to squeeze between my messes of thoughts scattered everywhere.

"No. I can't. I can't be the queen."

Ilom's eyebrows furrowed when he turned around to see me curled in ball. "Anya? Are you alright?" I heard his voice, but the comprehension failed to show up.

"NO!" I shouted, I launched from my position and shoved Ilom away from me, waving my arms around like a madwoman keeping him at arm's length. In a blur of movement, Ilom wrapped his arms around my body pinning my arms to my chest so I couldn't hit him. He dove onto the bed, twisting his body so I lay on top of him.

I stopped struggling and I was suddenly afraid. I lay frozen for a moment with my back against him, secured on his strong arms, and all I could hear were the sounds of our breathing. "Anya?" Ilom's warm breath on my ear sent shivers down my spine.

"I can't. I just can't, Ilom . . . I'm scared," I admitted,

"Scared of what?" he asked.

"I'm scared I'll be like him. I'm afraid of going corrupt. I'd rather let Ambrose and the Rebels takeover." I buried my face into my hands and Ilom's grip around me eased.

He said nothing and we sat there for a while. Neither of us speaking. It reminded me of yesterday, I breathed in the musky scent coming from Ilom. Leaning against him for the second day in a row, I felt happy for the second day in a row for a very long time.

When he decided that I wouldn't push him away and that I was calm. He let go of me and we got up.

"Thank you," I said, truly grateful for comforting me.

"You're welcome," he said.

He walked out the door while I remained there for a little while longer. Ilom's head poked back around the corner, "We're out of bread."

My head tilted to the side, something I did when I was concentrating. "I'll buy some more while I'm out. I'm taking the hill route today so I'll pass the market on my way home." I said, casually smiling at him.

"I've noticed that you haven't been going out as much as before when I first met you." His face had a curious look on it, but his aura told me otherwise.

Ilom's aura was very grey most of the time, signalling for someone who's very guarded. There are some tints of black, meaning the reasons for most of his irrational decisions and actions are from suffering loss, in Ilom's case it would be losing his brothers all at once. Seldom is there any yellow or brighter colours than the norm of grey and black.

"Haven't you heard any gossip from anywhere?" I was genuinely surprised, he can't have just stayed here day in day out with nothing to do, could he? I voiced my thoughts and his answer surprised me even more.

"Yes." A simple one-word answer, yet it had the tone of someone who doesn't allow himself to have fun and has somehow 'gotten used to it'.

"You have to get outa here some time."

"Speaking of getting out of here, I think it's time to send some letters home."

"Good, some fresh air ought to do you some good instead of sitting around our suite twenty-four-seven." I turned my body to get passed Ilom and out of my bedroom, I brushed against Ilom. I felt my face flush with heat and as hard as I tried to suppress it, it wouldn't go away.

I grabbed my bag and opened it making sure everything was there check listing everything off in my head: weapon, money, and water bottle. Check. I was half way across the living room, when I got so focused trying to avoid looking at Ilom that I bumped straight into him. Epic Failure.

He caught my hand as I stumbled. "Anya, what's wrong? You seem a bit distracted," he asked, seeming genuinely concerned, his aura agreed, too.

"N-nothing." I stammered, already lost in his sapphire eyes with one look. I could find it in myself to look away. I realised he hadn't let go of my hand. Its touch was reassuring, like a lost child found something to clutch onto, like a teddy bear. I realised how close we were standing, if he realised, too, he showed no signs of it. The warmth of Ilom's skin against mine made sparks explode in my chest.

I made the mistake of looking at our hands clasped together. He moved his hand away abruptly, like he was embarrassed to even hold my hand. When the warmth left, the coldness came, it snaked its way to my heart, snuffing out any feeling of happiness that managed to ignite.

He looked away, I was disappointed. My emotions surprised me, I mean, I knew I like him in ways a bit more than just a friend, but I never expected it to be love. I was quiet in our—I mean, my suite. I broke the silence.

"I need to get changed." Realising that I was still wearing my thin cotton night dress. As I walked away, a hand clasped my wrist, I stopped, but stayed facing the other way. "Yes?"

"I—um, never mind." Ilom let go of my wrist and walked back into the lounge room.

I went to my room with a quick pace, not wanting to keep Ilom waiting, and closed the door behind me.

Leaning on the oak door behind me, I touched my wrist, where his hand left tingles beneath my skin. I was foolish enough to let my mind wonder: did he feel the same way for me? What if he did? What if he didn't?

The rational part of mind told me to ignore it as best I can, almost convincing me that any "common man", as the King put it, would never love the daughter of the probably most corrupted and selfish man in all of Ixia and Sitia combined. The other part constantly made quixotic fantasies of me and Ilom, together. Both ideas disappeared as soon as I came to the realisation that Ilom might already have someone special in his life.

I changed into my light tank top and tights, perfect for weather such as today: clear blue skies with the occasional cloud. I walked out in a few minutes, tying my hair into a ponytail.

Ilom got up from his seat on the sofa when he spotted me walking to retrieve my bum bag from the coffee table situated in front of the little loveseat. "Let's go." I said, clipping the bag around my waist so that the bulk of the bag was on my right hip.

Minutes later, we stood on the balcony while I locked the door. I did my ordinary routine series of jumps down to ground level, while watching Ilom scale down the Cheketo's trunk.

"You a fast learner." I said.

"No, I used to climb up and down trees with my brothers." A sad expression gripped his face. I walked with him to the market and stopped a few metres from the first group of stores, reminding myself that if anyone remembered my face I'd get a lot of unwanted attention.

"I'm heading that way," I told him, pointing in the direction of the park I went to a couple of months ago. "I'll meet you back here in about an hour's time. Sound good?"

"Sure," Ilom had a knack for one-word answers. He started to walk off in the direction of the market leaving me standing alone. I felt almost empty without him standing next to me. Thanks to the tiny pang of loneliness in my chest, I knew then and there that my love for Ilom wasn't just a fleeting thought.

I snapped out of my funk, starting off with a light jog, banishing all thoughts of Ilom. When I hit the stone pathway in the park, I started to run a little faster, until all I could see was the area in front of me. I blocked everything out. The sound of the rhythmic thumping of my feet against the stone slabs made it way to my ears.

I looked around, I was close to the cliff hill that over looked the town and its market. Taking one deep breath out of many, I run up the hill to my left and I left the vast cluster of trees behind me. It wasn't long before I climbed up the hill and was marvelling at the view.

Was I looking at the same thing six years ago? The last time I came here, I looked upon green grass still sparkling from the morning dew, the people milling everywhere, stopping only now and then to look at the merchandise the salesmen have to offer. Now I look upon the barren weed-filled land, with barely half the people it had wandering about in the town square. Reading the auras of the people who were out and about, purple grey mist surrounded almost every one if their heads, something on their minds were either angering or saddening.

I sighed to myself. I sensed movement in my peripheral vision. I ran to the closest tree and hid as I look for my onlooker. I saw nothing, but a small butterfly, basking in the sunlight on a little daisy. At least the forests remain untouched by the king's filthy hands. I sat on the grass a metre away from the butterfly, observing it without scaring it.

"I envy you," I told the butterfly. As if in response, it fluttered its wings. "I wish I had your life's simplicity, you could just fly away from your problems." I paused, reconsidering my words and give a quiet chuckle. "Then again, I could, but not in that respect."

The sound of the rustling of leaves from a bush nearby scared the butterfly. Its small wings beat fast and I stood up watching it as it flew away. The sound was probably made by a wild hare. I brushed it off. My mistake.

The sharp pain of a dart pricked into the skin on the back of my neck, a heavy wave of drowsiness enveloped me followed by a dull ache spreading from where the dart pricked me. Poison.

A list of poisons were marched across my mind, trying to recall the one that performed these symptoms.

Too late.

The poison claimed my body as I slumped to the ground. I lay on the grass untouched by any human life for years, the streaks of sunlight that escaped the canopy of the forest's trees, fell into my eyes. The sharp crispness of the woods I loved, turned into a blur of greens and browns before my eyes and I gave in to the darkness.