Chapter My All
Conaan gave a small gasp as he looked down to the blade. It was bloodied, the red a deep colour of fresh, oxygenated blood, with pieces of flesh sticking off of it. He looked up, then met Alexander's eyes again.
Alexander slowly looked down too, just as blood spurted out of his lips. The blade had gone right through him, till it was a mere inch away from Conaan.
Conaan lifted his eyes as Alexander staggered, his breath hitched as he struggled to see through the blinding pain.
Both of them met Eleanor's eyes. They were wide with revenge, her hair clinging to the sweat that had run across her face, her teeth gritted, her fingers still holding on tightly to the hilt of the sword.
She raised her eyes to Conaan, who, through his own dizziness, managed a proud smile.
"El...Eleanor..." Alexander managed to say, and she let her eyes drop back to him.
Slowly, she stepped back, then pulled the sword out with all her might, causing him to stagger backwards and let go of his sword unto the floor.
He fell back, but not quite far. He struggled to maintain balance, blood running from the corner of his lips, from his severed arm, from the massive cut in his leg, and the stab that had been the very last gift from the woman he had once left out for cold.
He came to his knees in front of Eleanor, his lips parted in a small smile as he saw his life flash before his eyes. Matthew wasn't here, and Eric, the boy that had been his brother's childhood friend, the same boy that had looked up to him with utmost respect and had treated him like an elder brother, was lying a feet away, his wrist severed, his side bleeding. He had led his army to a battle he was almost sure he wouldn't be able to win, but had been too proud to live scared.
Eleanor grabbed hold of his hair, then leaned to him, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword.
"I told you I would have you on your knees."
Alexander swallowed hard, a single tear dropping from his left eye. "Damn you, Eleanor. Conaan will still die."
She bit down hard on her lips, then stepped back. She gave a yell of exertion as she swung her sword. It came off even more bloodied, Alexander's body falling away to the left, while his head to the right.
His left eye let go of the tear drop it had been holding, the very last.
Conaan's eyes closed briefly as blood splashed across his body, his lips parting lightly. He had a vague memory of the moment he had told Brandon he didn't think Alexander would die by his hands.
Then, it had been rather ambitious, far fetched. But he was watching it now through weak, still proud lenses, and he wasn't sure he deserved more.
"Conaan?"
He raised his eyes to her. He was hardly standing, tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. She dropped the sword, then took a step forward, her hand reaching out.
It was merely suggestive, like she was asking him to hold on. Like she needed him to hold on.
Slowly, Conaan's lips curled up in a small smile, a single tear rolling down his cheek, his chest heaving lightly. He swallowed, trying hard to stay a bit longer in this moment, even though every second he was convinced it would be his very last.
Eleanor's lips quivered slightly, her eyes taking him.
"Let's go home," she said, her brows furrowing as tears threatened to choke down her words.
He didn't reply, his eyes just fixed on hers. Slowly, she covered the distance, crossing over Alexander's body. He watched her with utmost tenderness, he watched her like she was everything he has ever wanted. The only thing he has ever really enjoyed.
She cupped his face, her tears rolling freely now, like she could feel it in her bones too. A part of her seemed to be coming off of her, and she was holding on desperately, hoping it would be enough.
Conaan smiled again, his shaky hand coming to cup hers that was on his cheek, his head lowering so his forehead touched hers lightly.
"Conaan..." she whispered, her fingers moving against his face, her eyes closing. "Please."
Please don't leave.
Please be safe.
Please don't leave me as incomplete as you have found me.
"Please," she said again, hoping the single word would keep him holding on for dear life.
He swallowed, his face lifting, so she could feel his lips brush hers, so when he spoke she felt his words more than she heard him.
"You are my all, Eleanor."
She swallowed, nodding. "I know. I know, Conaan I..."
His lips brushed hers once more, stopping her words, his fingers slowly coming off her hand.
"I am so proud of you."
She swallowed hard, the tears running even faster now, her chest heaving.
"Conaan, you promised me. Okay? You pro..."
The word was cut off as Conaan's weight suddenly fell on her. She gasped, her eyes widening. She moved to check, but he slowly fell back, his hair falling behind him in thin strands dampened by the heat and sweat, his eyes closing as a small gasp left his half parted lips.
The pools of green she had drowned in so much closed, and Eleanor leaned, her body trembling. His hand was still held in hers, and she let her other hand roam his body, like he had something she could push to bring him right back to her.
"Conaan. Conaan, please."
There was no reply, and it felt like her heart already knew, the tears blinding her fast and hard, dropping everywhere she moved.
"Conaan. My love, please."
Still no reply, and she moved her hands, her eyes taking his still body in, her heart slowing to a dangerous rate.
The yell that left her lips was the worst sound she had ever heard, and she had heard lots of them. Howls of grief, cries of sadness.
But she wasn't just sad, she had just been rendered incomplete.