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Forever, they had promised each other.
She had told him she would never leave.
They had spent many nights together, wondering, suffering, wishing they would never have to be parted.
Before her, he had thought only of the following day, no plans of a future or a better tomorrow. After her, though, he had begun to make plans – settling down, a bit of land. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be a better life than the risks they took, never knowing if they’d survive the following day.
Now it was too late for even that.
Tristan had always thought he would be the one to die first, but fate had other ideas.
She was fading fast, and it was too soon – it would forever be too soon.
There was no time enough in the whole of eternity for their love.
“Don’t be afraid” she whispered, touching his face, and he knew she had given up.
“I’m sorry” she said, and he could only shush her. There were no words for the whole she would leave inside him.
“Our dreams…”
“Isolde, don’t” he couldn’t even think about them now – all the things he’d never have. It was too much, and he didn’t want to scare her, not now.
“I wish…”
“I wish too”. He forever would.
“Hold me” she said, and he knew it would be the last time he had her between his arms, but it mattered little, for he had had her at all.
And as he cradled her, he felt his own pain and despair, and knew there was nothing left in the world for him to fear, for there was nothing that he could be worse than living without Isolde.