Last Seen Blogs
Text
Beginning
The forest had become a labyrinth of snow and ice.
She had been hunting for hours now, leaving her small home with nothing but her wooden bow. The icy wind cupped her face, and she had to remove her worn leather glove to clear away the stands of brunette hair that kept getting in her face. She should have tied her hair back before she left, but somehow, the thought did not even cross her mind.
It was in the coldest of winter, and food was difficult to find during these cold months. So she took it upon herself to be the sole provider of meat for her family, all year around.
As she once had been, a long, long time ago.
She had never complained about it, not now, not ever, and her sisters had offered to help. But being out here, in the heart of the white forest, all alone, was comforting somehow. Like the forest was watching over her. Like she belonged.
But now, they were in the depths of winter, and food was starting to run out.
The snowy forest was quite this time of year, almost too quiet. As if, it too, remembers all the bloodshed that went down that day, all those decades ago.
Slaughtered armies, burning villages and the death of innocent people. Her people. Trying to fight in a war they never stood a chance of winning.
She had given everything she had, every kernel of power that flooded in her veins, and still it was not enough. Her immortality and Fae senses were the only things they had not taken.
She supposed she should have been grateful, for the eternal life she had been given. The mercy.
Her life had been spared. But a part of her had died that day, and that hollow feeling in her chest, it would never heal.
She lifted her head, gazing at the white forest beyond, and the memories it held. She could have sworn the wind answered.
With the sinking realization in her chest that she would come home empty handed, save for the two small rabbits she managed to kill on her way over here.
But it would be enough, it had to be enough she kept telling herself.
She was the sole provider of her family, and it had to be enough, she would make sure of it.
But even on her way back to the small cottage, where the two similar faces were waiting, the memories haunted her blue eyes.
Of the blond haired warrior, blessed by truth. How she fought, for the lives of innocents, until her last dying breath.
Of the two Illyrian males, their blue and red siphons sparkling in the sunlight, even in the coldest of winter. Forged as a weapon from a young age. Of the honor, and joy around them.
Of the short tempered, black haired, angel of death, even her wisdom couldn't save them in the end.
And of the High Lord with bright violet eyes. Of the sorrow and grief in his face. Her mate. Her beautiful, kind hearted mate. How he had looked at her, with nothing but love and sorrow in his eyes, as he kept repeating the words “i love you”, over and over, and over again.
The pact they onced made, together. Always together, even in their final breaths, did not hold. She knew he did it for her, for her to live, always.
But nothing could save them in the end, no aid came to rescue, no powers were grand enough.
So the browned haired woman, once again walked back to the cottage, as she did every day, as she had once done, a long, long time ago.
Even as the memories haunted her, the pain and sorrow so grand it could shatter hearts.
“Nesta, Elain, i'm back”.
#acotar#elain#nesta#sjm#sarahjmaas#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acowar#Feyre#Cassian#Azriel#Mor#Amren#fantasy#writing#creativity#acosf#acofas#a court of wing and ruin#a court of mist and fury
3 notes
·
View notes