A/N: Don't worry- there's one chapter left! I'm sorry I'm ending it so soon, but I'm leaving again, and won't be able to write, so I figured I'd end it at a round number.
A/N2: Well. This is a strange one. I figured I had to write a death scene before I could reunite Lessa and F'lar, and I'm going to. Don't worry. (Or do- you might be surprised by chapter fifteen.)
Laughing at the funny things. Crying at the sad ones. Screaming at the things they expected to make her angry.
After F'lar died, she had become very good at acting. So good that no one else even knew anything was wrong. She had always been distant, and now she used that fact to keep everyone at an arm's length. She couldn't let herself be hurt again- or hurt anyone else. Because she knew she would die soon, as well.
That knowledge, of something that once terrified here, was now a relief. Sometimes, knowing that it would all be over soon, that she would be with him again, was all that kept her going.
Well, that and Ramoth. She couldn't have survived without Ramoth. The golden dragon was the only one who understood her now that F'lar was dead. She was also the only other one who knew, this day, that it would be her last. At least, the only one who knew before one of the fire-lizards that had been in the Weyr tattled on her. Ramoth had been the first one to notice, sevendays ago, that her rider was fatally ill. Both of them welcomed the thought of rest.
She had dreamed, when she slept. And now, she roused briefly- not completely, but enough to be aware as everything slowly faded. Strange, she had just enough strange left to think, how they all describe it as a white light. It's all white, not just a single point of light.
And with that, Lessa's vision faded to blinding pure white. She was gone.
White out.
To Be Continued