AMELIA
No one ever told me how easy it is to lose a huge part of yourself, how quick it is. No one ever prepares you for the possibility of your life becoming a mere existence, filled with basic life routines such as breathing, eating, and sleeping. And all it takes is one single moment for everything to come crashing down and for all your happiness to fade away. When you experience a death as devastating as I did, it changes you as a person; the person that you once were is gone. Crumbled into ashes and carried away with the wind. And you are forced to live in the world where someone you loved the most is no longer present.
I didn't shed a single tear on my son's burial. I was absolutely spent that day, physically unable to cry and mourn, my body was tired and my spirit completely broken. I don't even know if the emptiness I felt can even be described as a feeling, but that is how I was; bland, empty.
Harry and I decided to bury him on the Golden Island, beside my mother's grave. I still remember the day as if it was yesterday, I remember the smells, the people, I remember how dirt felt between my fingers when I threw it to cover Adam's little coffin. King Henry made it for him; his palms were bleeding from splinters and his face was wet from tears by the time he was done with it.
Niall had dug out a small hole beside my mother's grave and I took it upon myself to place the tiny coffin inside. To this day I have no answer where did I find the strength to do it. Henry, Niall, Harry, and I were the only ones present, I didn't want anyone else around. All of it was peaceful and quiet. I was the first one to throw a handful of dirt to fill up the grave and the three of them followed until my baby boy was beneath the ground instead of smiling happily in my arms.
Harry made a gravestone for him, carved the words in it and placed it over the grave. It simply said: Adam - whose light stopped shining, leaving us in darkness.
God, my heart could have shattered all over again had it not been turned into dust already. Unlike me, Harry cried that day. I had to watch him mourn and weep, kneeling in front of the grave, clutching the freshly piled dirt in his hands. He kept crying on our way back to the ship and the entire night when we had continued our journey.
Now, it's been five months since Adam's death, and it is almost equally painful. The only difference is, I've now accepted I won't ever see him again and am trying to live day by day, forcing the air into my lungs over and over again until it becomes easier. I think about him every day, from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. However, I also think about one more person; the one we are certain is responsible for his untimely death: Edgar. And I feel hatred burning inside me, growing stronger with each day.
I have changed a lot during the past months, forgetting how to smile and laugh, pain being my constant companion. But the one person who has truly been pushed into darkness when we lost Adam is Harry. I never thought someone could change as much as he did, become a polar opposite of themselves. Everything that was once pure and innocent is now disfigured, shaped into this other persona, one I don't recognise and didn't fall in love with. But I cannot blame him for becoming the way he is now, pain does that to people.
"You see, I was told you are one of Edgar's generals," Harry says to a man kneeling in front of him, clenching his gloved hands into tight fists, craning his neck from one side to the other. "Now, either you tell us what you know about the event I've mentioned or..."
Harry grabs the man's injured hand where one of the fingers is sticking out in an unnatural angle. Two armoured soldiers are holding the man down while Harry grasps another finger, narrowing his emotionless green eyes at the weeping man. "And to think I was debating to give you the right to choose the next finger."
He has dozens of soldiers surrounding him, ready to heed his every order, no questions asked. We now have a powerful fleet and everywhere we stop to rest and gather the supplies we need, people help us in fear of getting attacked. I feel like a part of Harry secretly thrives on it; seeing people fear him and always being at his disposal. He is now what he never thought he could be; a strong leader people respect. But it pains me to know at what cost that happened.
"N-no, no!" The man screams. "I told you everything I know, I swear!"
"But you didn't." Harry tsk's, shaking his head. "I still don't know the names of the soldiers who attacked my home five months ago nor how did Edgar know where to find us. And I am not pleased about it."
"P-please, you have to believe me!" He begs, trying to pull his hand away from Harry's grip, but the soldiers are quick to hold him still.
"I don't have to do anything, but you have to tell me what I want to hear or you shall have to learn how to take a piss with one hand." With an angry clench of his jaw and flare of his nostrils, he mercilessly breaks the man's finger, causing him to trash and scream in agony.
I cringe and look away, noticing Henry standing nearby, watching the scene unfold with a worried frown on his face. His sad eyes meet mine and we maintain eye contact before he turns around and walks away towards our ships, limping slightly. He has made it clear more than once that he doesn't agree with Harry's methods nor he enjoys watching what has his beloved son turned into. I don't enjoy it either, but I keep telling myself it's just his response to all the pain he's feeling. I am certain he will come around soon.
I don't stay to watch the rest of the interrogation, closing myself in my ship cabin, sitting behind a desk and staring out of the window, looking at the calm blue sea. My thoughts tend to drift away to my family when I am alone and it almost suffocates me how much I miss them. I choose to think about them rather than focusing on the sense of loss that seems to resurface when I'm not keeping myself busy, constantly reminding me of my baby.
Hard knocks on the door snap me from my thoughts, the chair I'm sitting on scraping against the wooden floorboards as I sit up abruptly. "Yes?" A moment later, Harry opens the door, standing at the doorway with a blank expression on his face. I cannot hide how surprised I am to see him here.
"You are judging me," he tells me as he slowly removes the blood stained gloves from his hands and casually pushes them into the pocket of his trousers. "I heard all about Edgar's generals and their vile ways with women. How they rape them then let their soldiers have a turn before killing them. He is one of them, responsible for attacks on The Border, your homeland."
"I am not judging you," I say, my hands nervously clutching my skirts, heart almost jumping into my throat. Why am I so nervous? "I know he deserves it, I just cannot stomach seeing it. Seeing you do that to people."
Harry shrugs carelessly, sniffling and flicking the tip of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger. "Sometimes they need the right motivation to talk. This time wasn't any different. He didn't know anything about the attack, but he shared some valuable information about Edgar and how much he knows about what are we planning."
"Didn't know?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.
"He bled to death by the time I was done," Harry flatly informs me while I nod and look down, unsure of what to say. In a few quick strides, he is standing in front of me, his rough hand grasping my jaw and holding it tightly so I can't look away. His green eyes find mine, cold and filled with rage. "I want them to pay, Amelia. Each and every one of them. I will hunt them all down, torture them and kill them for what they did to our son, is that clear? I have no remorse when it comes to this, only never ceasing thirst for revenge."
I almost shiver from his touch on my skin, gulping thickly. Harry hasn't touched me in months and we stopped sharing the same bed around the same time. Both of us needed to heal; we still do; but the difference is, I need him and his comfort for it to get easier while he doesn't need me at all. All of my attempts to get at least a brief hug from him have been futile and have resulted in nothing but rejection. He is completely closed off.
"I want them to pay as well," I say softly, clasping the hand holding my jaw between my palms, noticing how his body tenses. "But I also don't want to watch you slip away from me. With each day you are less you and more this other person I don't recognise, Harry. The person you would be horrified with a year ago."
"We're staying anchored here tonight and leave at early dawn." He pulls his hand from mine quickly and backs away, a small frown forming a crease between his eyebrows. I feel a sharp sting of rejection once again, a lump forming in my throat, threatening to burst and fill my eyes with tears. He stays silent for another moment or two before turning around and exiting the cabin, leaving me to deal with my loneliness and pain.
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I slowly undress myself, letting the pieces of my clothing messily wrinkle on the ground and pool around my feet, goosebumps littering over my naked body as I stare at the sea in front of me. I've come to a secret little lagoon, hidden between tall rocks, reachable only by a passage through a cave. I know for a fact Harry comes here every day to take a bath and today, I have decided to be here when he comes. I am not ready to give up on him nor lose him, not him too, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to keep him by my side.
The cool water does wonders to my hot skin as I let it wash away the grime of the day, using a special herb oil I made for bathing and washing my hair. I dive under the surface, swimming for a few metres ahead before emerging again, inhaling a lungful of air. When I open my eyes, I notice Harry standing on the shore, his eyes observing me from the distance.
Feeling bold, I stand up and slowly make my way out of the water in all my naked glory, water droplets sliding down my glistening skin, long wet hair clinging to the expanse of my back. I stop a few steps away from him, holding eye contact without any intention of cowering back. I take a deep breath and close the distance between us, leaving a tiny gap between our bodies.
The changes are very subtle, but I see the way his breathing pattern shifts and the skin on his cheeks gains a slight red tint. His pupils grow at least five times their size, minimising the green colour of his irises. He may be able to control his emotions, but his body is a dead giveaway that he still wants me. He gulps, his eyes glancing down so quickly I might have missed it had I blinked.
"What are you doing here?" He demands in a raspy voice.
"Playing chess. What does it look like?"
"Right." He clears his throat, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.
"You can pretend all you want, but I know you are still with me, Harry. You know how?" I lean forward, inhaling his sweet scent I've missed so much. "You still smell like a meadow filled with flowers. You are still my flower prince." I smile sadly, daring to raise my hand to press it against his cheek.
Before I can make contact with his skin, he grabs my wrist and circles his free arm around my waist, hauling me into his hard chest. "Is that really what you think?" His voice is deeper than usual and laced with anger, the muscles in his jaw spasming when he clenches it.
I barely have any time to register his mouth devouring mine, his warm tongue slipping between my lips and forcing its way into my mouth, twirling around my own. At one point, he painfully bites down onto my lower lip, drawing a bit of blood judging by the metallic taste on my tongue. His hands cup my backside while he harshly grinds his crotch against mine, the action gaining a small whimper from me.
His actions are nowhere near gentle and slow like I'm used to, he is rough and lustful, seemingly only searching for a quick release. In my desperation, I let him take me how he wishes, just wanting to feel him again, have him close even for a little while. Tiny pebbles dig into my knees as I rest my weight on them and my hands, Harry's hips constantly slapping against the backs of my thighs as he takes me roughly from behind.
His fingernails mark themselves into the skin of my waist as he holds onto me, filling me up over and over again to the hilt, not giving me any time to adjust to the rhythm, his grunts and ragged breaths heard behind me. Physically, it is slightly painful. Emotionally, I feel like crying, but managing to keep control over my feelings.
After I come undone, Harry abruptly pulls out of me, emptying himself onto the grass aside. I grab my clothes and scramble to my shaky legs, clutching my dress to my chest. His face is flushed red, glistening sweaty chest falling and rising in a fast pace, ruby lips parted. Tendrils of his long hair are sticking to the sides of his face, my fingers itching to swipe them away.
His eyes hold an intense look in them as they focus on me, and for a moment I think he's going to say something. But he only frowns and lowers his head, tousling his damp hair with his fingers. Wordlessly, he then turns towards the water and removes the rest of his clothing before slowly getting inside.
"We leave in a few hours, you should go," he tells me then dives under the surface, swimming away.
My heart sinks into my stomach and I quickly put my clothes on, getting angry at myself for thinking I would manage to bring him back. I know things will never again be the same as they used to be and both of us will live with a void in our hearts that Adam left, but I thought we could get through it together. I've been very wrong because Harry doesn't see any further past his revenge plan.
Not wanting to feel completely alone yet another night, I find myself knocking on Niall's door. He opens it a few moments later, rubbing his left eye with his knuckle, his hair sticking up in various directions as he looks at me with one squinted blue eye. His cheeks are a bit puffy, all of it indicating he was asleep. "Oh God, I'm so sorry for waking you up!"
"No no, don't worry about it. Come on in." He steps aside and closes the door once I enter, yawning. "Are you alright?"
I fumble with my fingers nervously, looking down. My lower lip quivers and I sniffle, cursing myself mentally for crying. "Yes."
"Really?" He asks, obviously aware I am lying.
"Yes." I take a deep shuddering breath. "I'm perfectly alright. Just came here to... to..." My warm tears begin sliding down the roundness of my cheeks, eyes still looking down. "Heavens, Niall, what does a person have to do to get a hug around here?"
"Oh!" Niall slaps his forehead before spreading his arms and pulling me into a tight hug, his palm soothingly running up and down my back.
"Having troubles sleeping again? Do you still... relive it?" He cautiously asks, referring to the haunting and very vivid images of the night I lost my son I had to deal with for months.
"No," I mumble, sniffling. "It's Harry, he..."
"Oh no." Niall sighs deeply, pulling away but keeping his arm around my shoulders, guiding me towards his bed. "I'm listening."
Niall has been my rock for the past months and whenever I'd hit my lowest point, being the supportive friend I so desperately need. Even when I felt like dying because I just couldn't live with the pain anymore, he was there to pull me away from the seemingly bottomless pit I was ready to jump into. He tried to do the same for Harry, but was rejected just like Henry and me.
I end up sleeping in Niall's arms by the time I'm done talking, incredibly thankful for his support and gentle words of encouragement. I know there is no harm in this considering Niall cannot develop feelings for women, besides, I consider him my family now, my brother. It's funny how we didn't really get along in the beginning and now we've developed a very strong friendship I wish would last for as long as we live.
Niall lightly kisses my temple. "Are you comfortable?"
"Mhm." I sleepily mumble, shuffling closer to him. "Thank you, Niall."
He is quiet for a few moments before releasing a sigh. "What is family for?"
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a/n: These last two chapters were hard for me to write because I don't know what's it like to lose a child and how absolutely shattering that must be for a parent. Some things I wrote in this chapter were inspired by the real confessions of people who lost their children and I can in no way say I did any justice with portraying what they must be going through every day, but I tried my best.
Because the subject is so hard to write about, I used a time jump and will use it again in the following chapters, but their sense of loss will constantly be mentioned and I won't let go of something so terrible as losing a child easily. Thank you for reading x