AN: So this particular vignette is a teaser for the next story in the Spoils of War series and will lead us directly into the story itself. Although this is the only one I have planned so far, more may come for this time period, possibly one Polar and one In Crowder since unlike Shattered, Stand by You is a one-shot as it revolves around a single event. Lost takes place about a year before Shattered takes place.
Lost
"Hey," she whispered hoarsely, as she entered Tess's room with a cup of tea, her voice cracked and strained from her earlier bout with tears. Her friend stared out the window blankly, her breath stuttering and cheeks red and blotchy from her own sorrow, her arms clenching her stomach, body strung tight as a bow.
Brow furrowing, Liz's eyes glassed as she watched the pretty blond's shoulders cave and she pressed her forehead to the cold glass, tears leaking around clenched eyes, her face pinched with pain. Taking a deep breath she crossed the threshold and set the teacup on the bedside table and came up behind the other woman, placing a hand on her shoulder, uncertain if a larger gesture would be welcomed at this time.
"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked quietly, stroking her hand over the tangled, unkempt waves hanging over the petite blond's shoulders. She wasn't going to bother asking how she was feeling because that would have been a stupid, pointless question given the circumstances.
"No, I'm fine," Tess whispered, swallowing harshly as she tried to clear the lump that had been lodged in her throat since she'd gotten the news of Max's death. Face crumpling, she gnashed her lip against the rising panic and distress echoing through her soul, a tiny mewl of anguish bubbling over her lips. Taking a shuddering breath, she tipped her head to look at the stars, a sight that once brought a sense of home and comfort, but now was nothing more than a bitter reminder of all she'd lost.
"I c-can't believe he's g-gone," she choked past the pressure constricting her lungs, her breath coming out in shallow, agitated pants, her body swaying dizzily under the avalanche of agony threatening to consume her. Pressing her fingers to pale, compressed lips, tears spilled over once more as grief ripped through her body, slicing her heart clean through. Shaking her head in disbelief, she wanted to pretend it had all been a misunderstanding, but the seal on Michael's chest said otherwise. "How am I supposed to live without him?"
"I don't know," Liz replied quietly, wrapping her arms around the tiny woman's shoulders, pressing her cheek to the back of her head as she tried to impart some measure of comfort to her friend, her own grief breaking free and flowing over her cheeks unchecked. Staring off into the distance, she wished there was some words of wisdom or consolation to offer, but the two of them had moved beyond empty platitudes years previous and she didn't see the point in saying everything would be okay when it wasn't.
"How did you?" the blond asked, her voice once more controlled and devoid of emotion, her eyes blinking rapidly, a dull ache suffusing her body as she stuffed her feelings into that little box she'd created while living under Nasedo's reign of tyranny. Too often, he had punished her for what he saw as useless emotions and reminded her that as queen, she was not afforded the luxury of such softness. "When he came back from the future and forced you to end things with him, how did you make it?"
"It was different," Liz offered, pulling back as she felt the other girl's body stiffen and sensed her friend had pulled into herself to keep the anguish at bay. Her heart ached that Tess's position often forced her to swallow her own feelings, wants and desires for the greater good, as well as hurt Liz to a degree because she had hoped Tess would be comfortable sharing her feelings with her. But Tess still had difficulty opening up.
"I knew that he was going to you and you'd love him enough for both of us," she continued in a heartfelt tone, watching as the blond turned away from the window, her eyes darting around the room for a moment before settling on the brunette. Meeting glassy cerulean eyes, she shivered at the emptiness leaking dully from their depths and shrugged her shoulders slightly, touching the other woman's arm gently. "And I still had him in my life, even if it was only as a friend."
"But you loved him," Tess countered, lips blanching as the fought to hold back the rising tide of bitterness, sorrow and unfathomable loss threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't give into that grief yet. Not when there was still so much left to do. Ripping her gaze from the pained, dull brown eyes watching her with so much love and compassion, she faced the window once more and her breath rattled in her lungs, the pressure building until it felt as if her chest were caught in a vise.
"Not like you did," the brunette admitted, finally able to realize that the love she'd felt for Max had been a pale imitation of the love this woman, his queen, had held for him in two lifetimes. Watching as the other woman slumped against the glass at her words, she walked over and wrapped her arms around her waist once more, squeezing tightly. She startled when she heard a rustle at the door, Isabel's quiet, pale face appearing as she moved wraithlike into the room to join them. Holding an arm out to her, she sighed as the other woman joined their quiet vigil by the window, wrapping an arm around each of them. "Not like you do."
"I feel like a part of myself died along with him," Tess whispered, eyes closing as she wrapped a hand around each woman's arm, her resolve to stay strong breaking against their united effort to console her. A flash of pain and anger ripped through her heart, hating the position that demanded she rise above personal grief. "And yet, tomorrow I will have to push it aside to be the stoic queen as I hand over his office to Michael. It's not fair. When do I get to be the woman who loved him and mourn my husband, not just my king?"
"We are here now and no one is around to say differently what we do," Liz replied softly, squeezing both women gently, tears slipping over her cheeks as she stared into the night, heart thudding dully at the mix of sobs and anguished hiccups that bubbled over her friends' lips. Swallowing thickly, her eyes lit on the chapel where she knew Michael was to supposed hold an all night vigil as per custom, barely getting the chance to mourn his brother before the crown he'd never wanted was thrust upon him.
When would this madness end?
