Hello, friends! So, I had originally thought this would be a quick one-shot, after much prompting and mild procrastination, here it is. Chapter 2. There will (hopefully) be many more chapters to come. This is the scene of Sorscha's death.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the story. Sarah J Maas is the author of Throne of Glass.
Without further ado...
SORSCHA
"No."
The kings gaze levelled on her, cruel and unyielding. Sorscha registered the word slowly, working through the meaning as if she were drugged. There was a flash of movement above her head. She looked up, and the sword came crashing down to seal her fate.
It was over.
—
It was dark, it was so, so dark. And why was everything blurring, why could she only hear Dorian's anguished scream as if from underwater?
His scream.
It was a primal thing, a roar and a plea, a beg to whatever forces there were to please, please don't let her die. It pierced the walls of the chamber.
It pierced her soul.
Gods, everything had gone to hell. So, so quickly.
The last thing Sorscha, healer, lover and rebel spy, heard before the darkness enveloped her, embracing her as an old friend, was her name on the prince's lips, and rising above the chaos unfolding around them the king's laugh.
She had wanted to kill that man.
He had gotten there first.
DORIAN
Gone. She was gone. The thought played on repeat, a broken record in his broken mind.
Gone. Gone. Gone.
No. Dead. Sorscha was dead. Sorscha wasn't gone. Being gone meant that you could come back.
Sorscha could never come back.
It was that thought the ripped him to pieces, pieces that could be sewn together but would always be broken, missing, lost. And it was his father's fault. It was his father - no, not his father, not anymore - The king's fault that the girl he loved was dead.
Dorian screamed.
