The service is beautiful, I have to admit. Large pillars incase lavender-scented candles, the flames flickering softly around the airy room. They cast dark shadows against the walls and onto the gleaming tiled floors. The shadows, however, reflect my current mood and remind me of why I'm sitting here in this pew, watching the scene unfold in front of me. I glance down to find my knuckles a pale white as I strangle the nearest object that I suppose is a book of Tamaranian scriptures.

I'm not entirely sure why I came. My appearance here is pointless. While I'm usually crowded around by people begging for autographs or proposing to me, here, I am completely ignored. Their attention is on their princess, which is how it should be on this day.

I think of how life is different without her. No longer am I a hero during the day; I am a hero by night, a creature lurking in the darkness. It's only been seven days, but seven days without her is long enough. I can't imagine what the rest of my life will be like. I don't want to. Nothing is right anymore. Before, I thought I knew the difference between right and wrong, left and right. Now, I second-guess every decision I make, never fully trusting in either decision. People often say that God has a reason for every moment of our lives. I want to know the reason He stole my parents, the reason He stole her. A hand on my shoulder arouses me from my livid reverie.

"Come, Robin." It is not a request, but an order, and one I heed immediately. I follow Galfore's assistant down the aisle, realizing now that the church is empty and not even the cocoon object they've placed her in is present. Have they already buried her? Did I not get a chance to say a formal goodbye? Deep inside, I cringe as the inner voice whispers that yes, I did receive a chance to say goodbye and I didn't take it.

When she was dying in my arms.

"Have they…?"

"No," he shakes his head, "Not yet. Soon the Zena'idas will be released. Then, sink."

"Sink?"

"Into the linn an saol eile." At my puzzled face, the assistant sighs wearily, "Loosely translated, it means 'the pool of the afterlife.' That is where we are placed upon death. X'Hal is a goddess of aqua and there, she brings them into eagnaíocht."

"Is… is that where she'll stay?" The assistant smiles, nodding his head swiftly.

"Oh, yes. It is a very good place. Much happiness abounds there," His gaze meets mine, "Koriand'r will have a pleasant eternity there." We walk together, filing behind the natives and stop at what appears to be a fountain. The pallbearers move the cocoon she's been placed in to the middle of the pool and, after a brief moment of silence, ivory dove-like creatures- the Zena'idas, I suppose- are released and flutter about the scene. As everyone else bows their heads and dips a hand into the pool, I gaze in admiration at the striking birds, counting each one as the circle.

Seventeen. Seventeen doves for seventeen years of life she lived. No more and no less. The people begin to chant, calling to their goddess, but it doesn't keep me from experiencing the painful feeling in my gut that this wouldn't be happening if I was faster, stronger. If I was a better leader, if I hadn't let her push me out of the way.

"Als ik jong sterven begraaf me in satijn…"

The seagulls are circling above, calling out to the skies that are drowning their feathers. I'm running across the sand, ignoring the calls of the team as my eyes dart across the waves, hoping- praying- for a glimpse of that crimson hair or those bright purple boots.

"Where the hell is she?" Without a second thought, I dive into the black water, salt burning my eyes. Pain is merely a message; ignore the call. Even now, in this pit of terror, Bruce's voice is still in my head.

"Leg me neer op een bed van rozen…"

I push it out, ignoring everything besides the urge to find her, to bring her home and yell at her for being so stupid. Didn't I tell her I could handle Cinderblock on my own? "STARFIRE!" The saltwater is clouding my thoughts, my eyes, and my throat. I choke, trying to spit it out, but relief won't come. I'm forced to go back, to abandon my search until I regain strength- and oxygen.

"Sink me in de rivier bij zonsopgang…"

"Robin!" Someone's shouting as I reach the surface. I fight against the current to head back to shore, where my teammates await me, the foam of the water blocking whatever it is they're holding. "Robin!"

"Starfire?" It's not a question, more of a blunt statement. She's lying in the sand in Cyborg's grasp. She's not breathing.

"Robin," she chokes out weakly as her eyes roll back into her head, revealing nothing but a dull emerald shade. My knees hit the rocky ground, pulling her from Cyborg and placing her on the ground so I can begin CPR. Her lips don't tingle against mine like they usually do as I push two deep breaths into her before pushing down onto the center of her chest.

I don't know how long I repeated the actions before Raven pried me away with her black energy. I don't know how long the ride to the hospital was. I don't know how long I sat in the waiting room while they operated on her.

I know how long she's been gone, though: seven days, twenty-one hours, eleven minutes, and forty-two seconds. Forty-three. Forty-four. Another second I'll never have with her by my side.

"Van een liefdesliedje…"

The hymn is beautiful, as is the service, with the creatures flying in small circles as the lavender color of the pool swirls about, bright lights emitting from the center. The cocoon she's been placed in succumbs to the water. I feel like a victim of the Titanic, watching the ship sink with my loved one aboard, moving from this life to another to meet her creator. I suppose that the sick situational irony is that she died drowning and now she's drowning again.

Many promises are made in life. One for religious couples is that even when they die, they will see one another again. The excruciating pain inside of me is that I am not a religious person by any means and I do not have the comfort of knowing if I'll see her ever again.

"If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the

Words of a love song," The assistant, Vreed'r, sings gently in English as the lights vanish and the pool ceases its movement. Gradually, the Tamaranians fall away, resembling golden leaves in late autumn, leaving me alone by the water to gather my thoughts.

The process of life allows us to be born and to be set free... we find ourselves in this captivity, bounded by our own flesh and encased within the realm of our own minds, slaves to our own fears and illusions of inadequacy, whether it be through emotions, physical connections, or mental resilience. The only way to truly be free from this world is to become free from this world, accepting against all odds that we are all one, that we are all somehow connected in another world beyond this one.

I push my slumped shoulders back and open my eyes to gaze down at my own reflection in the serene water below. Once upon a time, she called me Gend'an and I've never learned what it meant. Perhaps, there may be a chance for me to know when I pass on. Perhaps, there may be a chance I will see her again. With the notion of everlasting trust burning in my aching heart, I softly repeat the hymn again.

I send her away with words of a love song.

AN: I realize that Robin is a bit OOC, that he's not this emotional, but I suppose when you're alone on a strange planet with people you'll never see again at the funeral of your beloved, you would act a bit OOC, as well.

I thought about including the rest of the Titans, but for this, I needed it to be simply Robin-centric.

Zena'ida: adapted from the word "Zenaida" which is the scientific term for "dove" or "pigeon."

Linn an saol eile and eagnaíocht are both ancient Irish terms, the latter meaning "enlightenment."

Gend'an: Tamaranian word for "beloved."