Dance
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, anything at all…
A/N: A little ficlet I came up with earlier today. Rather depressing… I think it's the weather.
She knelt down beside him. "No, I love you," I heard her whisper. His hand brushed her cheek in response, then he was still. Her shoulders sagged, and she stood, wiping her eyes. Hefting her glaive, she attacked the Scanrans that killed him.
Her dance was beautiful to behold, beautiful, yet terrifying. After the battle, we carried her, and his body back to the fort. The healers tried their hardest, but she fought them like the warrior she was. She had lost the desire to live, and passed into the Black God's realm before the hour was out.
We buried them on a ridge, overlooking the country they died to protect. Now, I, Wyldon of Cavall, stand there alone, her glaive in my hand, remembering her last dance. Laying the glaive on their grave, I walk away, leaving Lady Knight Keladry, and her lover, to their rest.
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