Niall did not remember when he'd drifted into sleep, nor did he even remember lying down. But somehow, he'd found himself in the dreamscape again.

He was in a large room with a rain-trodden window and a lush carpet not unlike the kind that graced his bedchambers. But despite the similarities to past places he'd been, the room left him will a feeling of unease and nausea. The metallic smell of decay laced his nose as the persistent rain attacked the solitary glass window.

Panic made his heartbeat hasten. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but there was a strange dullness permeating the dreamscape room around him; it left him with an odd discomfort that no other dream had.

Then he realized why the dream felt so empty and barren.

Irial. Where is Irial? The former Dark King was nowhere to be seen.

Niall spun around sharply, the blood draining his face as he searched for his beloved. Trembling, he yelled, "Irial!"

Piercing echoes of his frightened voice greeted him in return.

He tried again, hoping that his screams weren't in vain. "Iri!" Tears pierced his eyes as the walls returned his pleas.

Then he heard a quiet voice, barely audible, say, "I'm over here. Calm down."

Turning his head sharply in the direction of the voice, he found Irial lounging (if it could truly be called that) on a small divan in the corner of the vast room, his pale face and feverish skin stark against the black leather of the seat.

Niall glared at him, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why didn't you answer me when I first called you?" he scowled. "You had me worried."

In a threadbare voice, Irial said, "I'm not in the proper form to shout quite yet, love."

Niall shook his head, feeling like a selfish fool for having scolded his ailing adviser. Of course Irial wasn't able to shout. He was dyi- Niall refused to finish that sentence, even in his thoughts. I haven't given up on him yet. There is still a way.

"Yes", Niall responded, approaching the sickly Dark King. "I know. My apologies."

As Niall came closer to Irial's waning form, it became increasingly evident that the former Dark King was in no shape to strain or make a fuss. Or stand for that matter.

Irial had grown much paler than he'd been in the waking world, and although he still had body muscle, he looked far less imposing than usual. He rested in a complacent, seemingly nonchalant way; his thinning arms folded across his breadth of wide chest and resting his his lap. Never before had Niall seen Irial like this; so weak and unintimidating.

It frightened him.

Holding back the tears in his throat, Niall, placed his hand on Irial's folded one, running his finger along a noticeable vein. With a shaky smile and a deep breath he said, "I rather dislike the current scenery, don't you?"

When Irial simply nodded, Niall changed the dreamscape; removing the cold, dreary room and solitary divan and replacing it with a roaring fireplace and a mountainous bed overflowing with pillows.

As Irial lay on the soft bed, a sad smile crept onto his face. He looked to Niall and said, "I recall this room. From my memories. It used to be mine."

Sitting on the bed beside him, Niall said, "Yes. I thought you would remember it."

A time immeasurable passed as Niall simply stared down at his beloved, taking in his graceful features with ease; Irial's tender eyes and parted lips reminding Niall of the faery he'd fallen in love with so long ago. And despite his currently sickly port, Irial was still beautiful in Niall's eyes. He always would be. That has never changed.

With gentle fingers, Niall caressed his mouth, enjoying the warmth of Irial's breath on his palm. The even breathing reminded him to stay strong, to never give up hope. It told Niall that his Iri was still alive and breathing and that nothing could take him away.

Irial was the first to break the tender silence. His brows grew low as he said, "Niall, you need to let me go."

Startled, Niall glared down at him, snatching his hand away from Irial's face. "Not now", he ground out. "No. We're not discussing this now."

"Then when will we discuss it, Niall?" Irial hissed in the strongest voice he could manage, his black, pain-ridden eyes nearly screaming at Niall.

"Not now", Niall pleaded, even though he didn't sound like he trusted his own voice. "I plan on fetching more healers. The others were wrong; imbeciles. They didn't know how to properly treat your condition. But let's not worry ourselves with talk-"

"Then when?" Irial pressed, his voice weary. His lips formed a hard line. "When I'm finally gone? What will it take to make you see that I'm dying, Niall?"

Standing up from the bed abruptly, Niall glowered at Irial, his body trembling with emotion. Sobs laced his broken voice. "Don't you think that I know that?!" he hollered, unable to control his feelings of anger and guilt and anguish. Then more gently, he said, "I won't give up on you, Iri. I can't. I'll keep looking. I'll find the right healer…"

From his position on the bed, Irial said in the strongest voice he could manage, "No, Niall. My body cannot recover from this. Even you can't stop it. If it were possible to stop time, I'd believe it of you. It's not." At the bleak, hopeless expression on Niall face, Irial whispered, "Please see that."

For a few moments thereafter, there was only silence. Niall leaned against the wall beside the bed, staring off into an unknown abyss, lost in his own blackened thoughts. Irial merely let out shallow, even breaths as his head rested against the pillows.

Then, stooping beside the bed and stroking Irial's hand, Niall whispered, "I can't do this without you, Iri. I don't have the strength."

Irial turned his head towards the faery in front of him; his King, his beloved, his lover. His eyes shone when he said, "You're much stronger than you think, Gancanagh. You will keep the court strong. You will keep yourself strong. And you will be an excellent king. In my entire existence, there has been no one I've trusted more than I trust you."

Then, with imploring eyes, Irial patted beside him and said, "Now, please rest with me. You can't have strength with exhaustion."

Quietly, Niall sat on the bed and lay beside his former King, embracing him in his arms so as to feel Irial's warmth pressed to his chest. Turning on his hip, he stared at Irial's heavy, darkened lids and full, parted mouth as the older faery drifted into sleep. Sweat slickened black hair caressed the sides of his weary-but-angelic face. And not long after, Niall felt himself drifting away too, the tendrils of the dreamscape slipping through his fingers until all he felt was absolute weightlessness. It was the best sleep he'd had in a long while.

Niall woke up startled a few hours later. Evening had fallen while he'd slept, and the moon was emitting rays of white starlight throughout the curtained windows. One ray in particular landed on the innocuous image of Irial resting, his black lashes brushing his cheeks as he slept. His slow breathing-

Niall froze, suddenly alarmed to realize that Irial's chest wasn't rising. With a panic, he reached out to touch the male's forehead, only to be rewarded with chilled, dull skin.

Unable to stop the hysterical sobs that arose in his throat, Niall shook Irial's unmoving body, black tears streaming down his face. "Irial! Irial! No, gods no! Please! Irial!"

I failed him. I failed him. I failed him. I promised myself I wouldn't, but I did. Now he's gone. Gone. Gone.

Minutes must have gone by as he screamed himself hoarse, as his tears suffocated him, as he became bleary-eyed and frenzied.

"No!" Niall continuously screamed, staring at Irial's expressionless face, unable to comprehend how broken and untethered he felt. Sobs wracked him as he embraced Irial's still form, resting his face on the Dark faery's unmoving chest- hot, angry tears that made it hard to breathe. "Iri!" he croaked with what was left of his voice, "Come back! I'm sorry!"

His pleas were ignored.

In midst of his emotional turmoil, Niall was vaguely aware that Gabriel had entered the room, but was standing back, not speaking a word. Neither were any of the others in the house.

After a time unmeasured, Niall fell silent. He assumed it was because he simply could not cry anymore. So instead of weeping, he sat with his back against the wall and- trembling- lit a cigarette. Plumes of white smoke entered his bloodied lungs, left his dry lips, and watered his reddened eyes. And in those moments, Niall became the darkness he feared for so long, became the demon that haunted his nightmares.

As he stared into the mirror opposite where he sat, taking in his tear-stained skin and lost expression, he became everything he once hated.

So I chose to put my note down here to avoid spoilers before you read the chapter. So hopefully, you enjoyed this (it's the last) chapter, even if it is sad- we all knew how it was going to end anyway, unfortunately. I took liberties with the text by recreating the death scene differently than how the book described it, but I do use some of Melissa Marr's dialogue. I'm also sorry it took me so long to write. I wanted this chapter to live up to the other three and for it to not just feel like an add-on where Iri happens to die. Since it's the last chapter, it's supposed to be emotional. So please REVIEW to let me know how you felt when reading it! Thanks readership!