kingkingcxiii | Hugtopia Mailbox/Inbox

It nearly killed me, you know. That loss, and the grief that came with it. So profound I just could not comprehend reality.

I wish I had no time to process it. I wish I was in the midst of war. Anything to help me forget the agony in my soul. But instead I existed in a daze, locked in his room, curled up with his lingering scent.

It had to be a nightmare, I thought. Just another of the bad dreams he would save me from. Even when asleep he could feel my distress, and would soothe me without waking. I kept telling myself it would be the same. I would wake up. I just needed to wake up.

But I just kept drowning in the neverending depths of my grief. I ate nothing. Scarcely drank. Did little more than exist in an endless cycle of restless sleep and torturous wakefulness.

I will wake up in his arms this time.

I never did, of course.

Ardbert was so afraid. I could feel the stirrings of our soul. While it did not drag me from the depths of my despair, it showed me the surface. Kept me from sinking deeper.

I feel such guilt. He and Hythlo needed me, yet no matter how hard I fought I was still drowning.

My soul had loved Hades for twelve thousand years. Twelve thousand years. And when my own feelings sang in harmony with my soul I still never told him. I never said I love you.

I will never have the chance. Not here, nor home, because I killed him. He gave me no choice. I cannot regret it. It saved countless lives. But he is dead, and I cannot be with him.

I wish I told him. I know he knew. He always knew me so well. But I never said those words.

If not for Ardbert I would have died. If he hadn't been there I would have wasted away. Hythlodaeus would have starved to death; confused, scared, and alone.

I cannot forgive myself for it.

Edited 2020-08-02 01:00 (UTC)

There is suffering too terrible to name.

[For a moment, that is the only response that comes. During the pause, Regis battles with himself on exactly how to answer. Her pain echoes so strongly with him and yet, his own experience seems less somehow. After all, while he grew up with Aulea, that time is still minuscule in the face of a love that lasted twelve thousand years. Yet...if he lets that stop him from reaching out to her, who will?]

After my wife died, I locked myself into my quarters for three days. I didn't answer for anyone no matter who it was. I left food untouched. The pain was so great, I forgot everything besides it. My country, my son, my responsibilities, my role as king. All that I knew was the pain and the feeling that part of me was dying, was leaving to be with her. The emptiness just grew as did the wish to follow her.

I'm not certain when the king began to stir again; I have no clue when he reluctantly accepted advice my father had tried to pound into my head for so many years:

"Your heart will be the death of you if you do not tear it from your chest."

Perhaps he was not completely right, but he was partially. I am certain the man inside of me died then. If he did not die, then he was buried alive by the walls the king created so that we could continue, so that the country could continue, so my son could have a father.

I thought burying it was the only way to go on and so I emerged from my room distant and missing part of myself. Missing a part was better than missing all, right?

Coming back here showed me how wrong it was to deny myself healing. Here, you have gotten time to heal no matter how hard and hurtful it was. The collapse, the damage it did to me, I would wish it on no one. Not only do I have a hollow in my heart where she once was, but now I have another which is the husband she once loved.

[Is he being too hard on himself? Perhaps, but it's hard to tell from the inside where pain still echoes and blurs facts.]

It's sad, isn't it? That we find blaming ourselves easier than accepting they have forgiven us a million times for things that didn't even happen?

They take a piece of us with them when they go, don't they? And when the piece is too large you cannot even begin to mend the gaping wound left in its wake.

It hurts. Even when it isn't hurting, it still hurts.

I tell myself it only hurts as much as I loved him. Somehow it makes the pain both better and worse.

I wish you did not understand it.

Hold Aulea's son close, always. Let that precious treasure you made together soothe the jagged wounds left behind.

Healing always happens, but the larger the piece taken is, the longer it takes to feel even the smallest bit of that healing. The hurt echoes in that emptiness and always will even if it grows faint as a whisper with time. Every so often something will cause that whisper to become a shout again. The pain reminds us how much we love them, though it is harder to deal with when they are gone.

[The second part of her message cause him to wince knowing what he knows of the future. No matter how much he wishes to hold Noctis as close as he can as long as he can, it just won't be.]

I will do it as much as I can until fate tears us asunder.

I hope I've a chance for it to turn to a whisper before I die. I do not mind the whispers.

Fate is a steaming pile of shite. Maybe one day we'll have the chance to tear it asunder instead.

If you ever need little boy cuddles and yours is uncooperative, Hythlodaeus is very soft and cuddly, and would not mind cheering up his favourite cousin's father.

If there is ever anything I can do to help soften it, please let me know.

I will make sure to take you up on that offer. I have not see Hythlodaeus in some time. I bet he has grown so much.

I will be sure to. Thank you.

He has grown enough that he nearly reaches my waist! He quite enjoys his current height, as it means he can simply walk forward and shove his cute face into Ardbert's hands whenever he feels like. You are not horribly taller than Ardbert, so Hythlo would likely be able to do the same with you.

What an easy way to get all the attention he wants. I should make sure to visit soon so that I can experience this for myself.

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