Chapter Text
There was so much blood. She couldn’t make it stop. There was so much blood. No matter what she did it wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t make it stop.
- - - - -
From the moment the doors to her room closed, he wrapped his arms around her and he didn't let go. He was warm, his skin still smelled like the forest-- like home, and she felt as safe as she could in his strong arms. Her ear was pressed to his chest, listening to the rapid but steady heartbeat.
“How are you holding up?” he paused with a grimace. “Stupid question. I'm sorry.”
“No, it's fine,” she told him. It was a lie. Nothing was fine. This was her worst nightmare. Her absolute worst nightmare. She could die. But she couldn’t lose him too. She shouldn’t have volunteered. He wouldn’t have followed her if she hadn’t raised her hand and said the words. The words that meant they were both going to die tomorrow.
This was all her fault.
“Aurora...” he said, putting his hands on either side of her face, so she would look at him. “This isn't your fault.”
Her lips quivered and tears welled in her eyes. Rory thought she had shed every tear she had until there was nothing. But she had been wrong. There was always more.
“If I hadn’t volunteered—” she choked back a sob. “I can’t lose you.”
“If you hadn’t volunteered, Briar would be here. And I would have still volunteered. My parents would have lost us both.
“If I have to be in this place, I’m glad I get to spend my last days with you.”
His voice was soft, and there was a moment’s hesitation before Ash closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers ever so gently. He tested the waters, one hand remained on her cheek while the other moved on her back. Gentle pecks at first, and then Ash parted her lips with his own. Without thinking Aurora rose up on her toes and linked her hands behind his neck. She made a sound low in her throat as she leaned into him and the kiss deepened. His hand slipped under the back of her shirt, his palm, warm and calloused, against the small of her back. He pulled her closer to him and his other hand ran through her hair.
Aurora lost herself in that kiss, matching Ash. There was no self-doubt. Just the feel of his fingers on her skin, her arms around his neck, her hands running through his curly brown hair. The rest of the world had fallen away until it was just them in a small room on top of the world.
When she eased away from him, her breath heavy, and her eyes unfocused. “Ash...” she began, her voice shaky. “I...”
“Tell me to go,” he said, absent-mindedly running his fingers over her spine. “...and I'll go…”
She shivered. “You can't leave. If they catch you—”
“I can sneak past the Peacekeepers, Rory. They need me for the Games. But I won't spend the night unless you want me to.”
Aurora stared into his eyes. He looked so earnest right now. And so hopelessly in love. All she had to do was say yes and Ash would be hers.
The tiny girl from District 7 rose on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “Stay with me.”
- - - - -
“Stay with me,” she sobbed. “Just hold on.”
A shaky hand, stained red and slick with blood touched her wrist.
“Rory…”
He was cool to the touch. His skin was cold and clammy. His lips were turning blue. He was losing too much blood.
And she didn’t know what to do.
“Rory…” He cupped her cheek and his eyes welled with tears. “They’re calling me home, Rory. I can hear them. My grandparents. The friends we lost. I can hear them. And they’re calling me home.”
“They’re going to have a big feast for us…”
He sounded so weak. Like he was drifting away into a deep slumber. She didn’t want him to go. But he needed a hospital. He needed a healer. She didn’t have anything she needed or the medical knowledge to help him. He was slipping away from her like he was made of shifting sands in her hands, and Aurora Noland was helpless to stop it.
“They’ll save us seats,” she assured him.
He smiled. “At least we… You and me… I wanted to wait…”
Aurora shushed him, her own hand slipping over his as big watery tears rolled down her face. “It was on our terms, Ash. Not theirs.”
“Rory, will you stay will me?”
She nodded. “Until the end.”
“Can you…?”
She nodded again and kissed his hand. “Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die....” Her voice cracked but she pressed on. “Take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.”
Ash let out a breath and his chest never rose again. The cannon blast echoed in the forest. Too loud and barely registerable all at the same time. And Aurora Noland collapsed on his chest and sobbed. She sobbed until there was nothing left. Until she was empty and hollow. Until she couldn’t feel anything passed his absence.
He was gone.
“Aurora of the Trees…” a voice sounded before a hand that processed a gentle and quiet strength touched her shoulder. “We must lay him to rest and then we must go.”
“I can’t leave him, Lallek.”
“Mourn the dead, Aurora,” he whispered. “Mourn the dead but see to the living.”
His eyes were the color of still waters. But there was a depth to them that made him seem older than the rest of them. There was a calmness to his spirit that made him easy to be around and so when he offered his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet.
“Is anyone hurt?” she asked.
“Just you,” Lallek said, pointing to the cut on her forehead.
“It’ll be fine,” she replied. “I’ll clean it and we can go.”
Another voice sounded to her right and a tall girl with dark hair and green eyes pointed to their trap. “There’s something else.”
She pointed to two down but not dead tributes. A girl and a boy. Lapis was her name. Lapis Stone. Her mother was Livia Stone. A victor from a past Hunger Games. She was here simply because she was her mother’s daughter. And her alliance mates. These Careers. Just left her here to die. The boy she was very familiar with. Marvel Gold. District One. He was the boy that killed Ash. And now he was lying down, his leg impaled by a makeshift spike of her design.
“Rory?” Rowan asked. “What are you going to do?”
“End it,” Lapis said, her breathing labored. “Honor demands it.”
Lallek nodded, stepped forward, and knelt down beside her. “How may I end your pain, Lapis of the Quarry?”
“The knife,” she replied. “Through the heart. Make it quick. And Lallek— tell my mother that I died well. Tell her that it was an honor being her daughter.”
The Warrior of the Sea nodded. “You honored her legacy in this Arena. May you shine in the light of the One, Lapis of the Quarry and be greet as a warrior worthy of the Quarry.”
And then plunged the knife into her chest, between ribs, and she went still. The cannon sounded and heralded her passing.
“What about—” was as far as Rowan got before Rory surged forward.
She raised the ax and brought it down. The first blow didn’t stop his screaming. But the second one did. And the third summoned a cannon blast. Aurora didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Not until she heard his voice.
“Rory…” he said. “This won’t bring him back.”
Aurora stopped in her tracks, ax raised in the air. She must have looked so strange to him. So animalistic. So unlike herself. But he still looked like him. Dark hair. The bluest eyes she had ever seen. He was pretty. Not handsome. His features were too soft to be handsome. He was pretty. Lovely even but that’s not why she stopped. It was the softness in his voice.
“Put down the ax, Rory and give me your hand.”
She dropped the ax but when he stepped toward her backed away. “No, I’m not… I’m covered in blood, Jace.”
He hugged her anyway. “We all are, Rory. None of us will ever be clean again.”
She collapsed into his arms and sobbed. And Jace held her, stroking her hair. It was only after she quieted down did she realize that he was singing to her, something low that only she could hear as he rocked her in his arms.