Author's Note: I wrote this because I was bored. Just because it's short that doesn't mean I don't appreciate feedback.

One Regret

(A Gargoyles Fic)

Thinking about it, dying wasn'tas terrible as he once feared.Halcyon Renard had tried for years to prolong his own decaying life. Now that the battle was lost and he was on his death bed, Renard found he didn't care. What use did he have for immortality? Why should he linger to see the pyramids turn to dust and the once mighty rivers become nothing more than trickling streams? No, at his old age, death was welcome.

Earlier, he had sent for his daughter, Janine, or Fox as she was legally called. She came quicker then he had expected. In mere hours she was by his side. She had brought her son, Alex, with her. He was growing into such a handsome boy. It was a pity that Renard would never see the child reach adulthood. He would never be able to spoil Alex as a proper grandfather should spoil his grandchildren. Such a shame.

In the end, Renard couldn't bear the sight of his beloved grandchild. Alex only dug the knife in deeper. He only served as a painful reminder of what never will be. He asked Fox to bring Alex out to his father, David Xanatos. Fox had tearfully taken the toddler away. When she returned, they had spent hours talking. They had talked about silly things from long ago. They had talked about their lives. They had talked about business. They had even talked about the weather. Renard had wanted to make sure that he left nothing unsaid. He did not want to send his only daughter away without making sure all the broken bridges were mended.

When he did send her away, Fox's eyes were red from crying, but Renard's were strangely dry. She had kissed him on the cheek and whispered her goodbye. "I love you, Daddy," were her last words to him. This had brought a smile to her father's face. She hadn't uttered that line to him since she had been ten years old. It feltpleasant to hear it one more time.

His original plan was to have her with him until he "passed on," but Renard decided he didn't like that plan. He needed time alone, time to make his peace. He sent his family and his servants home. Perhaps the only other living being in the house besides him was his stubborn assistant, Vogel. That man never could take a hint. At least he was somewhere away from him. Renard truly felt that he could not stomach anymore company.

While his eyes could rest, his feverish mind could not. Renard lay in his bed, replaying every little detail of his life that he could remember. His mind kept going back to his wife, Anastasia. No, she was not Anastasia. Anastasia was just her human guise. She was Titania, Queen of the Third Race. Renard had known fairly early in their relationship. She had revealed it to him right before he had proposed. Titania had asked if he could love someone such as her. Renard had told her that he could never love anyone more. She had smiled her all knowing smile and told him that their bond would not last forever. She would eventually grow bored and seek another's company. Renard should have left her that night, but he was a fool; a fool in love. He had thought he could change her mind. He had thought that he could make her see that she didn't need Oberon or Avalon. He had thought that his love was enough to keep her interest. He had been wrong and he was still paying the price for it.

It had hurt when she had left. The pain had tore through him and he truly felt like he would die from it. In his anguish, he had known that there was no one to blame but himself. She had warned him, but, like the idiot he was, he ignored her. He never stopped loving his wife. In his heart, he never acknowledged their divorce. He never acknowledged her remarriage to Oberon. He never really came to terms with her returning to Avalon and becoming Queen Titania for the rest of eternity. It was so much easier to think of her as dead, but he could not do that either. Perhaps that was his one true pain: he would never gaze upon her face before he died. To Titania, he was just a fling, something that had occupied the changing years. How many other mortal lovers had she had through the centuries? He had never asked her, but probably too many to count. Why did he think he could be any different? Why did he think she cared about his passing? He was just temporary amusement. He was just a leftover toy that would soon fade into oblivion.

All these things he thought because they would not leave his troubled mind. So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts, he did not see Titania sitting by his bedside until she opened her mouth and spoke words so glorious that Renard first thought she was an angel. "Hello, Halcyon. I have come."

Renard tried to hide his emotions, but found he couldn't mask his delight at her surprising presence. "Anastasia," he breathed.

She smiled kindly at him. "You know that I now prefer to be called Titania."

Renard shook his head. "To me, you will always be Anastasia."

"Would you feel better if I became her?"

Before he could respond, Titania red hair and green skin faded. In seconds, the mystic Queen became the image of his beautiful wife. "Thank you," he whispered.

The warm brown eyes that he fell in love with all those years ago seemed to spark with mirth. "I need no thanks, Halcyon."

She never needed thanks. When they had been married, she would often say that "thank you" was just a useless phrase. True thanks was shone through actions alone. Sadly, Renard was too weak to show his gratitude. "I didn't think you'd come."

"How could I stay away?"

Renard's voice held a hint of bitterness. "The lack of my presence hasn't bothered you for the last twenty-five years."

Titania laughed. "Has it really been that long?"

"Yes."

Acknowledging the resentment that lined his voice, Titania's smile disappeared. "I came to say goodbye."

Renard didn't want to ruin his precious moments with Anastasia, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. "Why now? Why after all this time? We've barely spoken since the divorce."

"Your time is finished, husband. I have come to see it end."

Her words were meant to be a source of comfort, but Renard took no comfort in the word "husband." She said the title respectfully, but the meaning was empty. He could not keep the pain out of his next words: "I am not your husband, Titania. Oberon is your husband." It was the first time he ever called her Titania. The name left an acrid taste on his tongue.

His bitterness did not phase her. "We are not married because a flimsy piece of paper says we are divorced? You are my intellectual equal and you were once my partner of greatness."

Renard frowned. Her words were coated in honey. They were not lies, but they were not exactly truths. "The greatness you speak of lasted too few years. Your life," he coughed, "outgrew me and your place ceased to be by my side."

For the first time since arriving, Titania looked truly saddened. She bowed her head. "I am sorry. I told you long ago that you deserved someone loyal. Someone that you could grow old with."

"No!" he exclaimed fiercely. "I do not regret loving you! Perhaps had I been of Avalon blood you would have seen that so many years ago."

"Perhaps, but perhaps not," she countered. "It really doesn't matter."

"To me, it does." He didn't have the strength left to argue with her further. His time was running short. Renard closed his eyes wearily. "I am so very tired."

Titania reached for his hand and held it tenderly. "Then why don't you rest?"

Renard squeezed her hand sorrowfully. Loving Anastasia was like loving a wandering shadow. She came and went with the sun. She did what she pleased.

"Because, if I rest now, I will not rise again."

"Isn't that what you wanted? Release?"

He opened his eyes and looked intensely at her. It made the Queen feel flustered. It had been centuries since Oberon had looked at her with such passion.

"I wanted you. Now that you are here, I don't want to lose you again."

"You never had me to begin with."

Renard smiled the briefest of smiles. "And that is my one regret. I gave you everything. You gave me nothing."

"I gave you many things."

"Not what you now give Oberon." Another wave of exhaustion swept through Renard. He ignored it. "I will never stop loving you like you love him. I've tried, but I can't stop. I love you Anastasia or Titania or whoever you are and if I had the strength I would shout it from the rooftops. My loving you, it's intangible, undefined. It's like loving the very air. But, since you do not understand that, perhaps it was never there to begin with."

His speech had drained the last of his energy. With those words, Renard felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had said everything he had wanted to say. All of his cares disappeared and he was content. It had been so long since he had walked upright, free from all burdens. It was peaceful, calming. It would have been truly glorious had he not looked behind him and seen his regret staring back.

"Farewell, Anastasia," he called to her. With that, his soul departed and Titania was alone.

"Farewell, Halcyon, my husband," Titania murmured. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "Sleep well." A single tear began to roll down her cheek. She angrily brushed it aside. "'Tis only a short sleep."