Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the film King Arthur, nor do I own the myth, or anything else, Dzerassa's character. This story was written for entertainment purposes only, no money was exchanged. Please don't sue, just tell me if I need to change something.
MaFer – I didn't kill Tristan, it was the writers, damn them.
Zelina, SpectralLady, Babaksmiles – Thank you all for reviewing so often, I hope you liked it.
Everyone—Here it is, the last chapter. It's short, but I hope it's…umm…enlightening.
Reviews are very appreciated!
Chapter Eighteen: Freedom
I am with Tristan. I am so close to him as I sit by his grave, yet I cannot feel him. The world is cold and snow covered. I only know he is there because of the sword that marks his resting place. I run my hand across the blade, and watch as my red bloods falls down onto the white snow. I can't feel it. This blade that split his blood, I think, has spilt mine. But I can't even feel it. I rest my head against the mound of snow, and look towards the hill where we lay together so long ago. It seems so foreign now. But as I am looking up, I catch a glance of a hawk, The Hawk. Tristan's hawk. I thought it had meant hope, but really it meant death. I rise and watch it fly. I follow it for a very long way, until I lose sight of it. I am left alone, and have never been to this area before. It is at a high elevation. The air is thin, and my breath mingles with the falling snow. I can see that I am on a cliff now, lined with huge, ominous stones, sacred to the Woads. The view is extraordinary. I walk closer, I am on the very edge of the earth, on the brink of the cliff, so close to nothingness. I close my eyes and stretch out my hands. I can feel the breeze whip around my body. I can feel the snow melt as it touches my face. I hear the hawk call behind me. Tristan. I can hear Tristan call. He wonders why I wasn't there to save him. Why I left him. Why I have not joined him. I want to join him. I don't know how. I can hear his voice, feel his touch, he loves and wants me again. Why haven't I joined him? The wind picks up. The hawk screams. I take a step forward, off the precipice, towards Tristan. And I fly.
END
Author's Note: That's the end. Yup. She fell (jumped) off the cliff if I didn't make that clear. So what did you think? Characterization? Style? Grammar? Too sad? Too sappy? I guess I liked having a definite, irrevocable ending, but it was pretty harsh on Dzerassa, what with both her brother and love mad at her, and then all the dying, when she wonders if she could have saved any of them. I know that her relationship with Tristan came suddenly, so I made it unclear as to whether it was really meaningful, whether they would have fallen in love or not. For Dzerassa, it was something to cling to, but as for Tristan, I'm not sure whether he would have wanted to continue on with her, if she had stayed. He did care for her though. I suppose I should stop writing, but I can't believe my story's over and poor Dzer is dead. Tell me what you thought of it, and happy reading!