AN: Like I stated in the summary, this "chapter" is just a rewrite because I believed that I could make it better but didn't want to scrap the first version (I'm rather proud of it despite it not being my best work). I hope you enjoy!
Every time he thought of her, it felt as though a knife was being driven through his chest. He'd had some good days and some bad days since the incident – he liked to think of it vaguely – but despite the moments when he felt like he could breathe again, he knew that it was all just a slow decline in the long run. There was no coming back from this one.
Listlessly, he shifted on the bedspread. He couldn't feel anything, save for the softness of the sheets. This wasn't even his bed. He was too broken and cowardly to stay in the room he'd shared with her anymore, and these days he wasn't sure if she'd hate him for that or not.
He was pretty sure those sheets still smelled of her. His chest tightened at the mere thought of it.
Another flare of pain in that gaping hole of himself. On the days that were particularly bad, it felt like someone had carved him open, removed his insides, then shoved him out into the world to walk around with a hollow cavity. Stiffening, he warded off the sudden image of his hand combing through her light brown hair paired with that smile of hers. Forcing out a breath, he waited for the moment to pass, gritting his teeth as he went.
A walk through the forest would do him some good.
His journey through the halls was undisturbed, which he supposed was a blessing; however, none of the guards were going to disturb him, not after what had happened. This wasn't his first late night walk through the silence of the halls, and it was no secret that he was unwell.
By some miracle – or some curse – he found himself standing across the bridge connecting the forest to his father's realm. There was a faint breeze, which had ensnared itself in his hair. The coolness brushed against his cheek, and for a moment he could almost trick himself into believing that it was her fingers tracing gentle lines down the side of his face.
But the wind lacked her warmth. His entire world lacked her warmth.
Somehow, he found some strength within himself to start walking again. The world was enveloped in peace, but he knew better. There were spiders out there somewhere, just like there were figurative spiders everywhere else. They were always lurking out there, hiding unseen in the places that were so beautiful and full of life, waiting to pounce at just the right moment. Waiting to take the very things that gave life meaning.
With another twist of pain in his chest, he let out a breath. He knew better.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been out among the trees and stars. The walk had done some good, he supposed, but he also felt himself dissolving in the memories of her.
Faerdhinen. That had been her name, even though he so rarely had called her that. She had been his queen, but now she was gone and could never return.
His father had suggested that he sail to escape this, but he had no desire to. He wanted – no, needed – to feel this. He couldn't explain it, but it was the one thing that felt right, and he clung to it. After finally explaining that to his father, Thranduil had dropped the subject, understanding completely.
Was it fate that his line was to suffer in such a way?
With a start, he realized that his line would end whenever he did. Deep in his heart, part of him knew that he wasn't going to pull through this, but on the slight chance that there was more life ahead of him, he doubted that he could ever open himself up in such a way to anyone again. Not after continuously telling Faerdhinen that they'd raise an elfling together, because she'd always wanted to be a mother.
Now she was gone, and he kept telling himself that it was all his fault.
There was a groaning sound off to his left. One of the trees beckoned to him, and while deep in his heart he resisted, he felt a strange pull in his mind. As he leaned up against the bark of the trunk, he could feel the weariness in his legs taking its toll, and he gradually slid down until he was sitting at the base of the trunk.
The tree groaned again, and while he couldn't discern what was exactly being said to him, the tree's presence alone was comfort enough. He let out a sigh, and before he realized what he was doing, the words were out of his mouth. "She's dead."
Another creaking sound came from the tree.
"I miss her terribly." He loosed another breath, feeling something start to slip away, then let the wave of memories come pouring out of his mouth.
He spoke of the time they'd first met. One evening many years ago, he'd been on duty at one of the gates when he watched her sneak into the forest alone. With brisk words, he'd told the other guards at the post to stay there while he went after her. After catching up, he found her climbing up a tree, yearning to gaze upon the night sky and refusing to come down unless he joined her. Left with nothing else to do, he climbed up after her. Little did either of them know, that occasion was the first of many walks into the forest to go stargazing.
He spoke of the first time he knew she was the one for him. It was during a feast, and she'd been dressed in a light green gown. Another elf was trying to get her attention all evening, but she wasn't showing him the slightest bit of interest. Eventually, that ellon tried to force her to dance with him and earned a swift shove in the chest from her in response. After coming to his senses, the other ellon tried to grab her again, but he was there to intercept, leading Faerdhinen safely away to dance with him. He'd formally started courting her shortly after that day.
He spoke of the day they pledged themselves to each other. Of course, they didn't talk to their families about it first because they were wrapped up in the moment and didn't care about the formalities. That particular evening had been a cooler one, but she had wanted to go on a walk anyway. Naturally, he agreed, mostly because he wanted to spend some time with her. Laying beside each other on the grassy floor of a clearing, she'd brought up the notion to him. At first he'd been caught off guard at her question, but he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. It didn't take long afterwards for their betrothal to be blessed.
She always did things like that. Everything she did was bold, and she didn't care what anyone else thought of her actions. He loved her for it.
His strength was waning, and he could feel it. Tipping his head back, he let out a breath, his words lingering in the air, "I loved her then, and I'll continue to love her for all of eternity."
He didn't stir again.