Til Death Do Us Part //{Aramir, Kheft, Luke}

“Ring around the rosie!”

“A pocket full of posies…”

The high, bright voices of my younger siblings are calling out the words of the rhyme, their sticky hands grasping at mine, insisting that I play with them. We are prancing around in a circle…around, and around, and around. I yell at them to stop spinning, we are going too fast!

“Ashes! Ashes!”

The morbid little chant continues, and now I’m being jerked off my feet by the momentum.

“We all fall down!”

With those words, the ground drops away from beneath my feet, and the children let go of my hands as I plummet, falling in a sickening plunge that will surely kill me…

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I wrench upright in the bed, my stomach flip flopping with residual twinges from my falling nightmare. The sensation was so real that I wind my fists into the quilt, still convinced that I’m about to fall to my death. I open an eye slowly, but the sun stabs at the crack like a knife trying to find its way into my brain. Squeezing them back shut, I groan. The spinning has returned, only it’s the room that seems to have taken up the motion, like a top set into orbit by an unseen hand. My mouth is dry and tastes like…oh no! The churning in my stomach has suddenly changed from neutral to projectile warning. I lunge for the side of the bed, scrabbling to find something, but the only thing my hands alight on is an old hat. Never mind, I proceed to upheave whatever was once in my stomach; it now takes residence in the soggy hat. Oddly, I feel better.

I try opening my eyes again, and it’s a mortal battle between myself and the knife-wielding rays of light, but I come out the victor in the end. Blinking dazedly, my eyes slowly adjust, and that’s when I realize that there is a much bigger problem in my life than just the throbbing headache.

I have no idea where I am…

The unfamiliar room greeting my bleary sight is—despite my body’s attempts to convince me otherwise—not moving. I’m not in my family’s wagon where I belong. It looks like I’m in an earthquake disaster zone, clothing lies piled about the floor and every other flat surface, boots caked with mud by the door, bits of leather harness sprawl on the chest of drawers. I’m so busy blinking at the painful light, holding my stomach, and trying not to fall out of bed, that the movement beside me doesn’t register immediately. When it does, I feel a rush of relief. Thank goodness Lark is here with me. I didn’t even both to examine the blanket-covered body, but gratefully snuggled up to her, worming my way beneath the covers until I could wrap my arms around her waist. Waaaait a minute. There was a long moment in which I realized my mistake. This was most certainly not Lark. The arms that descended sleepily around me, now entrapping my frame tightly against what was definitely a male body, were thick and muscled, with dark hair covering the tanned skin.

How could this happen? I was in bed with a man and…oh god…I managed a peek under the covers to confirm the worst…I was naked. So was he, by what I could suddenly feel wedged into the small of my back. It sent me into full panic mode! The thing felt enormous and…and…dear lord, there was nothing soft about it. I wasn’t ready for this! I wasn’t about to lose my virginity to a stranger in his bed, with no idea where my family was or my dear Lark. What if she was in the same situation? Kidnapped…rape! I wanted to struggle so very badly, but even stronger was the urge not to wake this man. There was no telling what he would do to me once awake.

Through the haze of this headache and the confusion of my surroundings, the realization came blazing its way in. I was so worried about what he might do to me, ignoring the fact that I was naked in his bed and the worst had so obviously already happened. For a moment I thought I might throw up again all over this man that I suddenly hated. I slid a hand down between my thighs, what I expected to find, I’m not entirely certain. Everything appeared intact, if a little sore…but when I drew my hand back into the open, my fingers bore an ugly tinge of blood.

Air whistled in through my nose, and my eyes stung with tears, my chest felt like it was about to cave in from the pressure. I wanted to beat my fists against this man’s chest and demand he release me and give back my cousin, give back everything that I was missing. A full head of steam was working up, and I opened my mouth to…I don’t know, and never will…because just then the man began opening his eyes. Coward that I am, all the anger fizzled away, and I shut my eyes, praying desperately that he would think I was still sleeping.

This boy...well obviously man...is standing here with an accusing tone when we are very clearly in HIS room. His actions make me feel like I'm the intruder when I couldn't have gotten here without his permission. Throwing a pillow at him I mumble "Cover yourself up!" I mean I'm already stuck in his bed and I'm pretty sure I've gotten more than eyeful already, its not like I need to see anymore of him. My pounding head and this excruciatingly odd event is pushing my patience to the breaking point. Something anything has to stop this room from spinning.

This is why I don't drink. Once Wren and I thought we would be grown up, drink some of her mother's wine...it was my idea of course...we wondered around in the woods for hours just laughing and talking. Our hands together pointing at the flower and the birds...we couldn't have been more than 15. It was beautiful...amazing even, until we cross the line from buzzed to wasted. The awful acidic vomiting, the headaches that felt like an ant walking across the leaf was a tree falling down. It was just miserable. Add on the fact it was the day our clan was moving and you would've thought we were walking dead. Our blood shot eyes struggling to stay open, our feet barely making the steps it needed. And her father's reaction...oh it was fierce! Told me I was dangerous to Wren and that I was going to be the reason she got lost one day. He made us march in front of everyone so they could see what fools we had made of ourselves. I guess his threat yesterday pushed that memory away...

Running my hands over my face, I try to think back to what could have landed me in this situation, well beside the obvious liquor churning in my stomach. Closing my eyes I vaguely remember talking to him at some dank bar...laughing...kissing..."uggghhhh" I roll over and groan and push my fists into the remaining pillow. Pushing deeper into the foggy bits that I guess you could call my memories I remember telling him about the so called arrangement and my best friend. There were sparks of the conversation that were so bright that I didn't have any problems figure it out. Like when he said I had pretty eyes and stroked my face, or when I stumbled out of the bar my fingers laced with his kissing him against the cold hard exterior of a nearby building. Yet the majority of my thoughts were so vacant or jumbled I couldn't make sense of them. "Are you decent, cause we really need to talk and I don't feel like having your half naked body staring back at me." Pushing myself up on my elbows I sneak a peek.

He's still standing there staring at the heap of blankets I'm hiding in like I"m a rabbit in its hole. My eyes widen as he's not even moved to put on clothes and I'm still looking at him saluting the sun. Rolling my eyes I jump out of bed and grab him by the shoulders and push him back against the wall, my arm across his chest, "Listen, I don't want to see anymore of you than what you showed me last night. I'm not in the mood to deal with you acting like you don't understand English and I just want to figure out who the hell you are!" I reach down and grab my pants off the floor and shoot him a look that could kill. Sighing I look around and see what looks like his jeans crumpled in the corner and I walk over and snatch them up and push them into his arms. "Clothes. Now."

This day sucks so much already and I'm sure with the way its going its only going to get worse. As captain whats his face stumbles around getting dressed I keep trying to focus on what lead up to this because its really starting to drive me batty. There's got to be more than just us screwing around and getting drunk. I know I'm homeless and on the run because of the elders wanting me to be sold off...but I have flashes of me being there last night...

"HOLY SH-T! I HAVE TO GO NOW." Wren was gone. My Wren, my other half. My best friend she wasn't there. The flashes of me chasing back down my old caravan are all missing her beautiful blonde hair. I'm getting frantic and shoving my boots on and trying to find a way to get to her. I don't even know where she is but I have to find her. She needs me. I need her. This isn't how its supposed to be. Stupid Markus. I hate him. He is the reason I didn't get to stay with her and now I'm in some random farmers bedroom and she was missing...

Suddenly, as if someone punched me in the gut I know what happened. I sink to the floor, crumbling into a pile of nothing. My head falls to my hands and its as if the whole world has dropped out from under me. Why would she do it. Why! She's too special to be put in my punishment. She's too bright and perfect. I'm the one who is broken, I'm the one who needed to go...not my Wren, my beautiful Wren... "My name is Lark Dobrieva.... and Wren took my place." I say with a choked sob.

I’m frozen in place, like a rabbit under the gun as his hands begin perusing the expanse of my skin. I can’t suppress the shudders; it feels like he’s sizing me up as you would a horse or a nice blanket. I’m afraid to slap him away, so I just cross my legs tightly and hide my face away in the pillow. After a minute or two of this occupation, the hands blessedly disappear, and I can feel the bed shifting as my strange companion begins to rouse himself. If only I could recall who he was…there must be some recollection hidden away in my foggy brain from the previous day...



"What do you mean, you're leaving?!" Wren's panicked tone held a wealth of recrimination.

"I mean, I'm leaving, Wren. I'm not staying one second longer in this place."

All of Lark's worldly possessions fit into one canvas bag, jammed in tightly and slung across her shoulders. The stubborn tilt of her chin told Wren that there was no arguing with her cousin. The darker featured girl bent over the tearful face of her fairer counterpart and planted a kiss on Wren's cheek.

"Come with me?" But they both already knew the answer to that. Wren had little sisters and brothers she felt responsible for, and she didn't crave adventure in the same way as Lark. So, with no reply required, Larken Dobrieva lept silently off the back of the wagon and disappeared into the tall grasses, heading towards the fence of District Ten.



It feels like my stomach's slammed up against my backbone, and I've forgotten how to re-inflate my lungs. Lark's gone...she left me...she's my other half, the second part of my heart's beating. I've never been without her. Now here I am in a strange man's bed, with no family in sight, and Lark abandoned me?! I start to hyperventilate, and spots swim across my tightly clenched eyelids, little bursts of light. My head's throbbing fit to fall off my shoulders, and I'm fighting the nausea and panic that churn around in my stomach. I might pass out, but that would be a relief from all of this, so I try to let go and drift with the sensation. I'm so close to that blessed blackness, when the covers are whipped off my bare backside, and the cold slaps my skin, jerking me back to wakefulness.

I clutched the pillow to my chest, trying to hide what little I could from the man's gaze. I know that my neck and cheeks must be burning a brilliant crimson color with embarrassment. Over the top of the stuffed cushion, I hazard a glance. Despite an outrageous case of bedhead and the unshaven scruff of beard on his cheeks, the man sitting across from me is not the worst looking specimen I've ever seen. Dark hair and the tanned skin of a working man, a pair of dark eyes match the profile, staring down at me with undisguised distaste. I feel like a roach that scuttled across the floor in front of him.

“Get me some water. There are cups in the drawer underneath the sink. I want something to drink. And would you mind telling me who the h—l you are? I mean, I see you’ve already had an accident so I suppose you won’t mind me treatin’ you like a child.”

The demanding tone has me wanting to shoot some smart comment back, make him fetch his own water like Lark would. In truth though, I could use a few moments away from his presence to regroup. My eyes are already hunting around the room, trying to distinguish my own clothes from the rest of scattered items that carpet the floor. His words continue to buzz in the background, but I'm so bleary that it takes effort to interpret their meaning. An accident? I glance below myself at the sheet in confusion. My legs have a few telltale streaks of blood marking them and a little has soaked into the linens, the only evidence that I've just lost the one thing I had control over. Is he really mocking me for that? I can't believe anyone could be so heartless. My life hasn't been the easiest, and I'm accustomed to needing thick skin and letting harsh words roll off my back, but this? It's so ugly and despicable that I don't even know how to respond.

“Well? No, really, it’s great, why don’t you just sit there and make yourself useless…”

The words were flippant, and I was so very much beyond any version of my normal self. A hot flood of anger and bitterness swelled up in my chest. Wrenassa Dobrieva is many things, but she is not violent. I would have sworn by that...five minutes ago. But five minutes felt like an entire lifetime. Before there was time to rethink my actions, I reached out and slapped the sarcasm right off his face. With tears burning in my eyes, my handprint embedded on his reddening cheek, I stood on wobbly legs and stalked out of the room with only a few ragged scraps of dignity to clothe me.

He wanted water, well I would get the water and pour it over his wretched head!

The fit of temper lasted only until I reached the kitchen--a small affair with a sinkful of dirty dishes--then it seemed melt away leaving me hollowed out and tired. I found the cups beneath the counter and filled two with water. Taking a steadying breath, I turned back to face the bedroom again. I swear the floorboards pitched and swayed beneath my feet, like the deck of a ship. Ugh, I am never, ever drinking again. Why had I been drinking anyway? Alcohol was never my vice, it's not as though we had an abundance stored away in our tiny caravan. This awful feeling of having my stomach raked with barbed wire and my eyelids painted with acid was enough to ensure it would be my only experience. I made it back with most of the water still in the glasses; handing one to the ill-tempered lout, I took the other and perched hesitantly on the opposite edge of the mattress.

Despite the knowledge that he had seen all there was to see, I still tucked a loose fold of the sheet around my body, modestly drawing it up to cover my chest. It would be a cold, cold day in hell before I sat and conversed in the nude. It was hard enough to be taken seriously when you are wrapped in a bed sheet. It was going to take some time before I could pull my cool and collected self back together. A sip of cool water rolled over my tongue and did much to wash away the stale, rancid flavor in my mouth. I could and would handle the situation with as much rationality as circumstances afforded. Wrenassa Dobrieva is not a girl to panic and take to hysterics, she can figure her way out of this. With that self-encouragement in place, I felt steady enough to raise my eyes and meet this man's gaze squarely.

"I'm Wren Dobrieva. Now, can you tell me where exactly I am, and who you are?"

Breakfast? He's offering me breakfast? How could I eat at a time like this! I needed to find my Wren. My eyes search his face knowing that he has no clue what I'm going through, that he could never understand how it feels to have your heart ripped in half. "Augutus..." the name feels akward and harsh against my lips. Far too formal and stiff to be a gypsy name, then again you don't see many gypsys in homes and in districts...we liked our freedom and our openess.

Augutus opens the door for me and I get up trying to calm the tears that keep falling. I must looks iike I've been hit by a truck. Here I am hungover, lost, scared, and now alone. Never have I spent a night away from Wren. Never have we not woken up to laugh and play. I look around for my bag and notice that it is stuffed in the corner of his room, sending a quick thanks up to who ever is watching, I collect it and head out the door.

The thought of living in a house is so foriegn to me. It so strange that you'd rather be so confined and restricted instead of being able to just go where you wanted. To have so many belongings that you just didn't need...it seemed so lavish, yet wasteful. My eyes bounced from the walls to the stairs to the different decorations that were placed around the house. It seemed big enough to fit my entire clan in with room to spare.

Silently we walked into the kitchen and I stood watching him as he went to work preparing the food for us both. How odd that a man was offerent to make me food...thats a woman's job in our clan. The men hunt, the women cook. It was supposed to be that way, even if I didn't always agree with it. As the smells and sizzles engulfed me in their temptation I tried to focus again on what brought me here. I know I left willingly, and I know I met him and a bar, the glimpses of me running back through the woods trying to find Wren and her being gone confuse me, so I ask "Did you follow me some where last night, or did we just stay at the bar?"

I can't figure this out and its driving me insane. I want these puzzle pieces to fall into place and they just aren't. Crossing my arms on the buffet in front of me I put my head down I let out a sigh. The tears have started to dry up and the pounding in my head is loosening. "So you don't remember anything? Nothing at all? the words muffled by my arms. Knowing I should sit up and look at him I start to adjust, but the darkness and safety the crooks of my arms give me I'm not willing to sacrifice just yet.

I want this to be over, I want to start all over with everything. To tell Markus I'd do it, to let him sell me instead of Wren. To shoulder the problems that I caused instead of running from them. Oh why couldn't I be the dutiful gypsy woman Wren was? Why did I have to be born with this mischevious wild side that I didn't know how to hold back. This was all my fault.

The clank of silverware and a plate moving before me draws me out of my hiding, looking up into the the face of Augutus who seems overwhelmed at the prospect of a random sobbing moody girl in his home. Feeling slightly embarassed I shrug, "I don't think anything happened that I didn't want to last night, so you don't have to worry about that. I just...I lost someone. I lost Wren, she's..." How do you describe someone who has been your other have your whole life, born only moments apart, spending years in the same crib, playing in the woods, we were twins seperated only by the definition. She was the goodness to my temper, the sun to my moon...and now because of me she was gone.

"Wren is my sister. My best friend, the only person in the world that matters to me...and if this jumbled cluster of what I think is a memory serves me true, then she's gone forever, and I need to find her. I can't be without her!" The tears spring back up and I look away. He'd never understand, I'm sure he thinks I"m crazy, but at this point I don't care.

Where could she be, the wagons were there, I remember them clearly, but she wasn't. They couldn't have gone far, they'd be in the same District. Maybe she's nearby, maybe she's looking for me too, maybe she didn't do something stupid like take my place, maybe she actually came after me. The ideas hit me and I start to feel a rush of excitment. Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed.

"Augustus, do you own all of this? Are you sure someone isn't going to get mad you brought home a random girl, or is this something you do often?" I couldn't help but stare at the wall picturing some random father or mother figure bursting and and calling me out for what I was, a vagabond.

His body rolls on top of mine, pinning me to the bed, pressing against me in intimate ways that have my skin a glowing shade of crimson once more. Every instinct inside me wants to shove him aside, struggle, get out from underneath his weight. For one horrifying instant, my stomach begins to rebel at the compression it’s taking, and I think for sure that I will heave up anything remaining in my system directly into Elias’ face. Not that I would mind so terribly, he more than deserves the gesture with the crudity of his words, but I don’t think I could handle one more humiliation at the moment. His fingers touching at my cheek have me wanting to bite him like the animal he’s treating me as. I don’t suppose that would lend itself to any rational discussion afterwards; so I reign in the urge and instead manage to grit out through the clench of my teeth, “Please get off of me.”

He’s not listening, however, and his words rattle on like a man who’s too pleased with the sound of his own voice. And then I realize he thinks I’m a workingwoman, the kind we get around the camps, just looking to warm someone’s blankets for the night. That is what he thinks I am? I suppose by the fact that I’m here, in his bed, having obviously done something regrettable last night—but why? I’m scrambling through any blurry thought that I can pin down, why am I here? I remember Lark’s departure, and I can’t dwell on that fact too long or I’m likely to stop being rational and just give in to the panic that’s still brewing a storm in my stomach. There must be something else that I’m missing…



“If she’s not back here by sun down, we’re going after her. Luka, you didn’t use a firm enough hand in raising that child! She’s got no concept of what her place is. I’ve been lenient in the past with her, but this is just too much and I’m done coddling. She’s a grown woman and it’s about time she got settled with her own family.”

Markus’ face is brilliant in crimson and purple, livid with anger. Wren watches in silence from her hiding spot beneath the wagon’s belly. Lark’s absence has been found out, and now her father is ready to turn District Ten upside down in order to prove a point. He hates being defied, and that’s just what her cousin has done by running away from his dictates.

Luka nodded in silence, deferent to Markus as their leader, just as they all were…except Lark. She was free from this life, from the strict roles laid out for them to play. Wren had dreamed for a long time of being free, raising her own family somewhere. Now, she realized that maybe all of those things wouldn’t come true for her, but she could give Lark the chance to have them.




Another piece of the puzzle, and I know that there is something big, something drastic that I’m supposed to do for Lark. Somewhere my cousin is enjoying her freedom at last, what she always wanted, and unless I do…something…it won’t last. I can’t remember for the life of me what it is that I’m meant to do. What if I’m too late? Because of this boy, I might fail Lark! And that’s about when my train of thought derailed…

“I’m Elias Poers, one of the Poers family, owner of the finest horses in the District. No one breeds a better horse. No one breeds better in general, if you get my drift. And don’t worry, I’ve got everything you need right here.”

Oh god…revulsion crept up from my stomach and took hold of my airway, squeezing and twisting it until I couldn’t breathe. It was bad enough that we’d obviously done something last night that I couldn’t even recall, I had no desire to replay it today with the harsh light of my hangover etching each ugly detail into my brain. What do I do? What would Lark do? She’d probably have this man on his back and gelded like some errant stallion by this time. The thought brings a brief flash of bloody satisfaction; it’s just too bad I’m not Lark. I’ve never been the one to put my foot down or speak up when I ought to. I don’t make waves, but now it seems like that’s exactly what Elias has in mind!

I should protect myself, that’s what Lark would have me do. My hands scrabble around in the sheets, desperate for something to hold the boy off. The touch of metal against my fingers brings a thrill of satisfaction, I snatch the item up and brandish it in the most menacing fashion that I can manage while flat on my back with his own weapon wedging its way between my legs. It’s a spoon. Great, I’m glaring my fiercest at this man and waving a spoon in his face like I’m threatening to what? Eat all his breakfast cereal?

It’s so ludicrous that I have to laugh; ok maybe the laugh is also a product of the big bubble of hysteria that’s been growing in my chest and picks now as the best time to burst and overflow my sensibilities. All I know is that one minute I’m about to be raped, and then next I’m doubled up in the most completely inappropriate fit of giggling! I can’t stop and it’s starting to smother me, how can this be so funny? But the paroxysms continue, and I must look like a complete lunatic by this time. A glass of water clutched in one hand and the spoon in the other, shaking like I might bust apart at any second while a boy sits astride me like some defective carnival ride…

Just when I don’t think it can get any more ridiculous, the glass slides right out of my grasp and upends it’s icy contents all over Elias’…horse wang.

I'm trying my hardest to get away from the table as soon as the foot steps starts our way. I'm a Gypsy, its not like I'm a normal girl in the District and most adults could pick up on that a mile away. I start to stand and reach down to grab the only things I have of my life still with me, normally I wouldn't care to leave something behind, but this well I don't have Wren anymore so these few shirts and knickknacks are all I have left. My pack catches on the corner of the table and as I"m struggling to get away some drunk man comes in spewing hateful epitaphs and I"m bit my lip trying not to yell back at him. He doesn't know anything about me, what gives him the right to say those awful things. If I could get this pack loose I'd black his damn eye.

As soon as he's gone I bolt out the door. My feet moving as fast as I can, I don't even care to find out if Augustus is following me. All I know is I have to get out of there. I'm not sure where I'm going but I have to find Wren, sitting around eating breakfast isn't doing that. My eyes scan the area around me and I find the land in filled with people working. Bustling around their daily duties and I can't help but wonder why Augustus isn't out here helping, its his land, his home. As I walk I try to keep my head down and not to draw attention to myself. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see something. Something big and strong and it makes me close my eyes as the memories come rushing back.


I nearly faint as I understand whats going on. Oh god! He wanted a horse, Markus wanted a horse! I was supposed be the one to get him it...I need to find people who own horses, young men specifically. I sprint down the dusty road hoping for something to jog my memory as to which direction I came from. Something that would seem familiar...but it all looks the same. Same stupid trees, same stupid dirty, same stupid road. My let out a pissed of groan and take a guess.

After debating the options with a sigh I take a left turn and start walking, it looks like there was tracks leading that way and I hope eventually I'll run into a town. As I walk my mind wanders. I find myself thinking about the night before...Someone at the tavern has to have a general idea about what went on. Some clue that can unfuzz my brain. I mean it wasn't just me and Augustus in there. There are random faces that fill in the spots around us at the table laughing and enjoying ourselves, one of them has to be around here somewhere.

Maybe if I can find the town center I can ask around if anyone might remember seeing me with a guy the night before. Sure I'll look like a cheap whore, but if it leads me to Wren I don't care. Its not like people like Gypsies anyway...I just need to know she's okay. I need to know she's not in harms way.