𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘦𝘴

The Hanging (part 1)

"Hilda." Wymonds voice cracks as he comes to terms with the news.

"Don't." I whisper.

After being bought back down into the darkness of the cell, I realize what I will leave behind: not much but enough to miss; Lena, what Wymond and I could have had. Children. Love. We could have bought the town back together, together. But that is not going to happen. It will all end tomorrow. It is only now that I am close to death do I fully appreciate life. It is only now that I think about what happens after one dies - do you go somewhere else, somewhere safer, somewhere purer? Or does it just end? But what is the ending? Blackness, like the blackness of this cell I am spending the remaining moments of my life in? Or is it whiteness, like that of when the sun goes down, ending the day. But that is always followed by darkness... will people miss me? Will someone weep over my body as I hang there in the courtyard? Will their emotions feel dark and shadowed because they loved me? Or will people watch, as the stage falls and my neck snaps, and feel nothing? Will they turn their backs on my lifeless body and forget what they have seen? Will their world remain coloured while others turn black?

I am bought back from my thoughts when Wymond speaks again.

"My love. Can you see me?"

I strain my eyes through the dark and see the faint figure of my lover hunched in the corner.

"Yes."

"Can we reach each other?"

***

Wymond begins to stretch his arm out. Hilda copies him. The cut on his right wrist gouging deeper and deeper. He has no care for that though. His only intentions are on touching his wife for a few last moments.

"I cannot get any closer." Hilda says.

Wymond stretches some more but the pain that is in his body is too intense. The welts on his back burn. The aching of his joints seize his thoughts at all times. If only he could do this one last thing, maybe it would heal him. He did not understand how calm Hilda could be. How she is unfazed at their fate. He knew they would suffer for it - pay a large price - but knowing and hearing are different. Hearing it confirmed what was going to happen. Hearing it made it seem real, seem like nothing will stop now the words have been spoken. He is so tired though. Too tired to care. He is not losing much. He has nothing to lose. When he is gone, will he remember Kamden Fischer? He is the only person he can talk to without uttering a word. Yes, he has Hilda, but Kamden was there for him years before. Wymond and Hilda will disappear from the word together. He will not know the pain he is in when he is dead. He may not even know. What happens after death?

Hilda's voice through the murk knocks him back to earth. Back to the present.

"Try lying down. We will be able to touch feet."

"I want to hold you." He try's to keep his voice steady but tears threaten to fall. That is all he wants: to hold her one last time.

He slides onto his back, his right arm held above his head. He blows a breath out as the pain shoots from his wounds, sending tingles of fire through his bones.

Wymond moves his foot across the floor until he meets a smaller shape.

Hilda smiled through the darkness. He always knows when she smiles and it relaxes him. He manages a grin himself and when Hilda begins to talk, it does not leave his face.

"Remember when we first met." Her voice is distant, recalling happier times. He closes his eyes and pictures that day. How beautiful the young Princess was. How he knew he loved her, even if she was fainting.

"I caught you." He says. "I will always catch you and get you back on your feet. You know that."

"I know. I am so grateful you were there at that moment. If you weren't then-"

"Then I am sure our paths would have crossed."

"I am glad they did."

"I will be forever thankful for the time we shared together. The secret days by the lake. The unknown and risky marriage. Those wondrous nights we had together..."

He trails off as tears sneak their way out of his closed eyes. The couple lie there in silence on the freezing stone, feet touching, right hand raised above their heads as they recall all that happened. From beginning to end. From a chance meeting to an unplanned ending.