Dark one shots

He's not coming back.

The fight was over. Finally. His muscles were aching, his wounds were open and bleeding.

Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and you'll know.

He knew there had been losses. There always was. But he needed to know. He needed to know if he'd lost him.

His body was aching and he felt as thougt his legs were going to fail him. He needed to lay down and see a healer, he knew it. 

But he hadn't seen his love since he'd lost him in the battle. He needed to know if he was okay. His whole body wanted to know. His heart was racing in fear.

Just a few more steps.

He finally arrived at the infirmery tent. He entered, an healer immediately coming to him, insisting on healing him right away, but he pushed him away. He needed to know.

He walked further in, scanning the beds. He finally saw him. Saw his love, laying on a bed. He was asleep, right? He had to be. 

He walked a few more steps and finally made it to his lover's bed. He took his hand in his, begging for him to be okay. He knew he could check himself, of course he knew. But it would make it real.

A hand made it's way on his shoulder, but he didn't move, his eyes still fixed on his love.

"Mate..." His friend started behind him, squeezing his shoulder. "It's over. He's gone."

He still ignored her. He couldn't be dead. He knew the moment he saw him, but he refused. He had to come back. This had to be a prank.

He took his hand to his mouth, his tears falling on his lover's hand.

"Come back," he whimpered as sobs started shaking his body. "Come back, come back, come back."

"Mate come on," his friend told him, pulling on his shoulder a bit. She held him up and escorted him out. She walked him a little further from the tent. "He's not coming back."

No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he knew it was true. As the words registered in his mind, he let out an agonishing scream, falling to his knees.

______________

The battle was over. Finally. She waited on her throne, still healing. Her body was aching and was begging her to sleep, but she needed to know.

She had a lot of goals in this war. But if it she'd killed him, it wouldn't only be the end of the battle but of the war.

She had wounded him, but she had stopped her from killing him. They didn't kill each other, but now sitting, she wished she had gotten rid of her.

Her most loyal gard came in, at last. She immediately sat up, leaning forward to him. Too exhausted to speak, she raised her eyebrow in a silent question.

"He's dead."

She let out a breath and fell back in her throne.

"He's never coming back," rassured the gard.

A smile graced her face as relief flooded in her veins. He was finally gone. She had had her revenge. It was over.

He was never coming back.