World of Warcraft - Regret
Jaina/Arthas angst written for sekiharatae:
He was so distant now. Or maybe that was just her. She couldn't be sure anymore. Things were... different, so very different now. She had known that the war with the Scourge was wearing his down little by little, but she hadn't realized just how much. Stratholme had changed that. He just... wasn't the man she loved anymore. Or maybe she wasn't the woman who had fallen in love with him anymore. Or maybe... maybe she just wasn't facing reality. She wasn't strong, not like the others. She'd rather be off in some ancient library researching anything that came to mind. Instead, she was stuck right dab in the middle of a horrific war that was turning the people she loved into monsters... even the ones who weren't dead. Her father... she didn't know anymore. That bridge was burning itself into cinders and ash. But Arthas...
She shouldn't have turned her back on him. He needed the support more desperately than anyone else. Every single day brought news of more people who had fallen victim to the plague. More people who would turn into monsters. His people. He was supposed to be their king one day, and yet the only way he could save them from their hellish transformation was to kill them and hope he got to them fast enough before too much was gone. Just thinking about it left her breathless, with shaky knees that threatened to go out on her. How much worse must it be for him?
But no, she had said she couldn't watch him do it, couldn't watch him turn into something he wasn't. She had turned her back on him, left him there alone to deal with the horror creeping across Lordaeron's threshold and turned her attention elsewhere. The orc situation and her father were so much easier to deal with in comparison. She could only hope he would forgive her someday for her weakness. She did love him. Perhaps too much so. It hurt too much to watch him go through that and know that in truth she couldn't do anything to help. And if she had stayed... he would have known just how much it hurt her to see him like that. She'd never been good at hiding anything from him. No, he would have seen every flinch, heard every indrawn breath, and that would have hurt him even more. She couldn't do that to him.
Walking away hadn't been the right thing to do. It never would be. Not for them. But staying would have been worse. So very much worse.
He was so distant now. Or maybe that was just her. She couldn't be sure anymore. Things were... different, so very different now. She had known that the war with the Scourge was wearing his down little by little, but she hadn't realized just how much. Stratholme had changed that. He just... wasn't the man she loved anymore. Or maybe she wasn't the woman who had fallen in love with him anymore. Or maybe... maybe she just wasn't facing reality. She wasn't strong, not like the others. She'd rather be off in some ancient library researching anything that came to mind. Instead, she was stuck right dab in the middle of a horrific war that was turning the people she loved into monsters... even the ones who weren't dead. Her father... she didn't know anymore. That bridge was burning itself into cinders and ash. But Arthas...
She shouldn't have turned her back on him. He needed the support more desperately than anyone else. Every single day brought news of more people who had fallen victim to the plague. More people who would turn into monsters. His people. He was supposed to be their king one day, and yet the only way he could save them from their hellish transformation was to kill them and hope he got to them fast enough before too much was gone. Just thinking about it left her breathless, with shaky knees that threatened to go out on her. How much worse must it be for him?
But no, she had said she couldn't watch him do it, couldn't watch him turn into something he wasn't. She had turned her back on him, left him there alone to deal with the horror creeping across Lordaeron's threshold and turned her attention elsewhere. The orc situation and her father were so much easier to deal with in comparison. She could only hope he would forgive her someday for her weakness. She did love him. Perhaps too much so. It hurt too much to watch him go through that and know that in truth she couldn't do anything to help. And if she had stayed... he would have known just how much it hurt her to see him like that. She'd never been good at hiding anything from him. No, he would have seen every flinch, heard every indrawn breath, and that would have hurt him even more. She couldn't do that to him.
Walking away hadn't been the right thing to do. It never would be. Not for them. But staying would have been worse. So very much worse.