She laid on the white silk cover as if asleep. Her blood red hair   
braided, over one shoulder down to her waist. Her dark lashes laid   
on her cheeks, furthering the allusion of sleep. Her hands at her 
sides. To him, she looked as she had every night of their fifty
year reign of the dark court together. Only now, her breast did not 
move. Her heart did not beat. 

When his best freind had lost the love of his life, he had offered
comfort. Now he understood there was no comfort for this. He 
understood now, and did not want to.

"Father?" a voice asked from the doorway, heavy with grief. The 
three children stood there. The two that were biologically theirs, 
and the one they had adopted. He nodded at them and moved back. 
They came to say goodbye. When they were done and had left again, 
he moved back to his place at her side. It was funny how each of 
them had hugged him tightly. As if they knew his thoughts. Of 
course, it would not surprise anyone at the court. For fifty years, 
they had been happy. They had finished each other's sentances. 
Sometimes, they had entire conversations not even Doyle could follow, 
for they fired single words back and forth at each other, 
understanding the thoughts behind the words. They had been each 
other's sun and moon and stars. Now, it was over. He had already 
announced that he would not rule without her. He had advocated in 
favor of their oldest. 

"Frost." A voice whispered from the shadows. A grave, serious 
voice. Frost turned as his friend stepped from them. He turned back 
to his Queen. 

Doyle hadn't smiled since the death of his beloved. He rarely spoke 
to Frost or Merry, and never to others. He didn't socialize, didn't 
go to the feast hall with the others. Most fo the Court thought he 
had faded. Until someone stepped way over the boundaries Merry had 
set for the court. Then, they were reminded he was still there. But 
he didn't interact with the court otherwise. Occasionally, Merry 
had convinced him to share a bed with the two of them. Not for sex, 
but for the touch of Sidhe flesh. To be comforted, to forget, if 
only for a night. To be held safe, and to be able to rest without 
nightmares.

Doyle stood next to his friend. He put a gentle hand on his 
friend's shoulder. "I know what you are thinking. I have thought it 
often. But who will remember how she was, the shining one amoung the 
Unseelie court if you go? We knew she was mortal. We knew this 
would happen. I searched everywhere to find a way to make her 
immortal. I failed both of you there." He stood silent for a 
moment. Then he knealt down, next to Frost. He unsheathed Mortal 
Dread and placed it on the ground next to him. He stared at Frost 
for a long minute, then stood agian. "I will not stop you. But," 
he added, "I will not watch either." He faded back into the shadows 
and was gone.

Frost stared at the sword, then he turned back to Merry. "We will be 
together forever," he whispered. "I love you."

Frost raised the sword, and placed the point over his heart. 

"Don't" He heard the words softly, in Merry's voice. He looked at 
her agian. Her breast still didn't move. He raised the sword once 
more, and then she was beside him, taking away the sword. 

"Merry!" He hugged her to him, and tried not to notice that she was 
not quite solid in form. 

"I'm sorry, Frost. But don't do this. I am still part of your 
world. I live on in your heart, and when you need me, I will be able 
to come to you like this. It was the best Doyle could find for us. 
He kept searching, but once I knew I was dying, I had him cast it. 
His magic fuels it, which is why he has never followed her into 
death."

"When did you cast this?"

"When I was diagnosed with cancer the first time."

"That was twenty-five years ago. When she was still alive."

Merry nodded, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Now, he can tie 
it to both of you. My spirit is tied to you, which is what keeps me 
in this world. I can travel, though. I have been on the ghost 
roads. I found Laurella. She stays on them, waiting for him, for 
us. I need you to find a way to bring her spirit back, to tie it to 
Doyle. To repay him. That, my love," she said as she began to melt 
back into him, "is my final order as Queen." She vanished. 

"And that the Court shall know no sorrow." Her voice echoed the 
chamber. "And that you shall know no sorrow..."