~*Silence*~

A/N: You can all thank the author (.:Speed Skater:.) of Hermionella for this dark and angry depression. Hey, I'm not happy all the time….very sad fic.

DISCLAIMER: You know it. All characters are credited to Tamora Pierce.

~*~

For the first time during the season that Tortall could remember, it was raining. No one could be seen about the streets, and the market was closed in mourning. Black drapery hung all around, and here and there, grim faces peered from nearby windows, some tear-streaked. They had reason to mourn.

Sir Keladry of Mindelan stared off into shock, her arm heavily bandaged, her hazel eyes dull and unblinking. How could it be? How could this have happened? It had all occurred too soon….and so suddenly. It was just not possible! How could, after all these years that Tortall had looked to her….

Someone knocked on her door, and Kel was pulled out of her gloomy thoughts enough to reply with a vague, "Yes?"

Cleon of Kennan, his eyes twinkling, crossed the room in three strides and seized her, spinning her around thrice before kissing her soundly and placing her back on the bed, squeezing her hand. "Good to see you…..thank the gods you're alright, Kel!"

She just blinked mournfully up at him. "Hello," she finally replied, her tone glum. His smile vanished, and he sat next to her, his brow furrowed as he snaked an arm around her shoulders.

"What's wrong, dewdrop?" He inquired, cupping a hand under her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

She sighed and snuggled closer, trying and failing to smile back. "Of course I am, silly. It's not that."

"The war," he guessed, seeing her face. "You've seen too many people fall, haven't you?"

"No….well, yes," she admitted, "but there's something else, too."

"You were lucky to survive. You all were." He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help," he apologized. "Had I known the Copper Isles and Scanra had let it enter their heads to rage war on us…"

"That isn't it!" Kel exclaimed, jumping up, her eyes wild. "That's not it at all! Stop blaming yourself! This isn't just some old soldiers' deaths I'm talking about. This is….HER. Damn it, Cleon, why'd they have to kill HER?" She finally broke down, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I HATE Scanrans! I wish I could stab each and every one of them in the gut and twist my sword slowly." Her eyes shone with an insane light. "Let them feel the pain….and the blood….I'd bathe in it, just to get them back for this…."

"Kel, STOP!" Cleon exclaimed, seizing her right arm and yanking the dagger away from her. "WHO?! Who are you talking about?!"

Kel tore away, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They killed her, Cleon. They killed her…."

"WHO?!?! Gods curse it, Kel, WHO?!"

Kel fell to her knees, weeping. "Oh, Cleon. She's gone. Gone! They couldn't save her…"

And then he realized it. His eyes widened. "Then…you must mean….." she nodded.

"No…." he whispered raggedly, closing his eyes in grief. "No…."

~*~

A tall, dark, cloaked figure emerged out of the misty darkness, clutching something in his hand. He strode silently through the cemetery, only adding to the stillness of the aura. Striding over to the largest and most elaborate tomb, he seemed calm as he dropped to his knees in silence. Then, he spoke.

"Well, my darlin'….are you enjoying yourself in the Divine Realms?  I can picture you, I think….that vibrant red hair of yours shining in the sunlight as you look down upon me now. Tell me, do you miss me?"

He paused for a moment, then continued.

"Jonathan's havin' a monument built in your honor. You fought for the good of Tortall, and saved us all. I know that. Everyone knows that."

More silence.

"I miss you….the children, too. You've left us all hanging, sweet. We're happy  that you don't have any more pain, but not having you here, with ME, well…" he paused for a minute, his calm voice breaking slightly. "…it's not the same. I suppose by now you've found Thom, and Faithful, haven't you? I suppose you're happy, living there with the gods, are you not? It must be a wonderful place."

Suddenly, he lost his composture. "Oh, Alanna….why? Why did you have to leave me? I loved you. Jon loved you. We all did. And now, you're not here anymore….you've taken my heart with you, haven't you? Keep it, love….until we meet again, which I pray to the Mother will not be long in coming."

The man stood, tears streaming shamelessly down his face. He placed a bouquet of white roses upon the tomb among all the other generous gifts that had been laid there.

"Wait for me, sweet, and I PROMISE," his voice was ragged, "I promise we'll be together again someday. Don't you forget that." He kissed the roses and stood, donning his cloak once more and setting off towards the horizon, where the first streaks of daylight were beginning to show. Slowly, he vanished into the distance.

If one had looked closely enough, they might've just managed to make out…or was it merely one's imagination?….a small, ghostly figure in a lilac gown with flowing copper hair and silent purple eyes, watching the figure vanish before disappearing into the daylight.

Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau

Friend, daughter, mother, warrior, and wife, loved by land and kingdom. May you rest in peace.