Work Text:
When you close your eyes you see him behind your lids. The darkness opens up around you and you shiver as you watch that bit of metal glide across his throat. It’s wrenching, how quiet and almost peaceful the moment is.
Each time you witness it, you recall the shock, the dismay. You recall how poetic it felt as he collapsed into a bed of flowers, how the petals fluttered into the air. It was beautiful and another sight that will only serve to bring you pain for years to come.
There are so many things you can no longer find joy in and this will be but one more.
You don’t speak of these feelings to anyone. The Scions would not understand and you do not wish to burden them. You are their hero, their champion, and it would do no good to express how… horrifically downtrodden you feel.
He is but one more on a list of many that you push deep down. Now is not the time for mourning. Perhaps there will never be a time. He would not suffer you your sorrow and it stings at you.
He, who spoke solely of the hunt, of being your greatest enemy and dearest friend. He, who spoke of a hunger.
It is disgraceful, how you hunger for him now.