This is probably the last chapter. Hope you all liked it!! Thanks for all the lovely comments, and I'll try to start my new GR fic soon.
Zachary sat on his throne once again. There was yet another meeting happening down before him, and orangey afternoon sunlight came through the glass windows once more.
His repetitive life as King had started again.
He recalled his days in the wilderness. Every day had been different. He had been stuck in an icy prison, brought to Grandmother by some groundmites, healed and forced to work as a slave, and then Karigan had come and saved him. After that, he realized just how many times she got injured on message runs. Trouble just seemed to find her.
And then there were those precious days where they had been alone, and she had been too delirious to consider the consequences of her actions. They had slept beside each other.
And he had never felt happiness like he had when he had woken to find Kari asleep beside him, with her head on his chest.
He could remember with perfect clarity the exact weight of her arm across him, the exact way her hair had been splayed out on his chest, and how perfectly her body had fit against him.
And then a wave of melancholy hit him. Because none of that could be ever happen again.
He realized he had been staring out above the meeting with an unseeing gaze, and turned to look at the tree line.
He sat up straight in his chair as he saw groundmites slink back into the forest.
So, where was Karigan?
He shook his head, he should not be worrying about this now. He should be actively participating in this war council.
But he couldn't. Not until he knew she was safe.
He put his hands on the arms of his throne, and began to rise, and end the meeting, when he met the gaze of Fastion across the hall. His stony expression frowned at him.
Zachary recalled how he had disappointed both the Riders and the Weapons when he had arrived back at the castle, and sat back in his chair.
He began to listen to the meeting.
One General wanted to send a Green Rider to the North East division, and get them to move out into the Northern Wasteland. Another was adamant that that was foolish, and Laren said she would send no Rider but for the order of the King.
It was then that they all looked up at him, but he was spared from answering by a commotion outside the throne room.
He motioned for quiet, and strained to listen. He- was that a horse?
Zachary stood and almost ran down the dais. Two Weapons opened the great oaken doors, and a few seconds later, a horse reared in the doorway.
Behind him, he heard Laren call, "Condor!" But he had eyes only for the woman on the horse's back.
Slumped in the saddle, her uniform was ripped all over, and dried blood left brownish drip marks. When she lifted her head, there was blood from a recent wound matting her hairline.
Karigan started to slide from Condor, and Zachary rushed to catch her. She lay limp in his arms, too exhausted to move.
She managed to open one eye to look at him.
Zachary recalled how she had told him that he must leave her alone, but she was obviously too tired to care. Her expression was just relief at a familiar face.
He carried her carefully to the Mending Wing, revelling in the fact that her could hold her this last time.
He looked down at her with sad eyes as Ben got to work.
I love you, Karigan G'ladheon. But I understand now. I know where my duties lie.
He began to back out of the doorway, though his eyes still rested on her face.
You can never be mine, and I can never be yours.
But I can dream it. I can wish for it.
Oh Kari.