the fox and the wolf | {paige & kieran} blitz

PAIGE ● LOWE

The stars don't fall that night. She sits with lips parted, waiting for something to come and make her feel warm, but there's nothing to comfort her. It's not as hard to fake a smile these days — she can rub honey over her teeth and pretend like they're not sharp; she can swallow a songbird and claim its song — but it still feels forced. After the war is won, the ground is never the same. Flowers break through the charred earth, but beauty does not mean wholeness. Softness doesn't mean she's not made of iron.

It's been a long time since she's spent a full day with others. The trip had been meant for the slowly forming Lowe-Emberstatt family, and although she never asked to be a part of it, Saffron and Mace have always had their own sort of gravitational pull — and now here she is, sitting in the dark with nothing but the sky and their campfire to keep them safe. And it's pleasant, almost — the adrenaline of it all. She peers over her shoulder to see trees in the distance, the silhouettes of sleeping bodies, and she wonders if any beasts are circling them. 'What's it like to be alone?' she asks herself, but there's no answer to be found. She's been caging herself up for years, but even then, she's always had the key in her hand. There's a knife in her chest and she's screaming for mercy, but she's the one that's applying the pressure.

Kieran speaks — "Your sister loves you, ya know?" — and she fights back a wince. She sits in awkwardness as he continues, wrapping her arms around herself and nodding along. He's grown, both in body and mind, and she's never been fond of children — but he's more than that now, lost somewhere between being a boy and becoming a man, and she's never been the wisest of women. At what age is the child allowed to know how cruel the world is? When do you let them know that people suffer — that family is not always an absolute?

She had been twelve;
— maybe fourteen's as good an age as any.

She sighs, looking away from him and leaning forward, always contradictory in her movements — she's never liked to be understood. "It's complicated," she confesses, and it's more honest than her usual excuses. She trusts Kieran, sees him as someone who might understand what it's like to be so angry without having any justified reason — and if their worlds are crashing into each other without their say, they should at least keep a quiet understanding between them. The sun shouldn't rise where it falls, but the night is safe for them. The wolves can't reach them here.

"Things change, Kieran. We changed. The Games fucked everything over for us. I love her, but — I don't know. We both lost something, y'know? Our childhood, for one. I wish I could go back to who I was when we were kids; when she was my hero and I followed her every step — but I still had to grow up. I know I didn't become a good person, but she's far from perfect, too. At least she got an excuse; she had to fight for her life. I never got that. Why should a victor's sister complain? I had to find my own reasons — so I blamed her. Maybe I still do."

PAIGE ● LOWE

There are some who say childhood is a kingdom — and for a set amount of years, you’re allowed to roam the halls without any cares; sweets will settle onto your tongue and flowers will be braided into your hair. It’s a good life, but a fleeting one. She remembers the past in flashes, memories dancing in rhythm with the rising flames. Fingers locked in promise, a feather for the both of them, and there had been a time when the light of her world wasn’t blinding. Darkness does not frighten her — the night is kind. It is forgiving; it does not hurt. When the sun dies, crumbling in on itself and hurtling towards the earth, it is the first to be burned. The apocalypse lives in her veins.

She’s not here to debate which of them has lost more than the other, so when Kieran’s expression turns sour, she’s thankful that it doesn’t lead to any outburst. He continues to listen to her, taking in her words, and she wonders if he understands — if he ever could, or if she’s even making sense to herself. No one’s asked her the question before, so the answer is a raw one that slides awkwardly off of her tongue. It hangs on her chin like a stain, the emotion of the moment evident across her features, and she feels her fingers start to twitch as she waits for the younger boy’s response.

“A childhood woulda been nice.”
It would have been.

“But, there are worse things they could have taken from you.”
Limbs go tense on instinct, a crack running across her skin. The ground tears itself apart to stay safe.

“Saffron, for instance.”

She feels a shot go through her, and it’s irrational to be upset, but she has to clench her fists to hold back from screaming. It’s something she’s told herself before — ‘At least you have Saffron. She came home. She’s alive.’ It doesn’t help. Comfort is not a resolution: it’s only temporary. It’s Hell when your saving grace is the thing that’s killing you. And she should be grateful and she should be hopeful — she should look down to see what she has and hold empty hands up to the sky in praise, but she doesn’t. She wraps them tighter around herself, bringing her eyes to Kieran’s and inhaling. It’s admirable, what he’s doing — and it's foolish, too. The knight tries to console the dragon, and he should know better. Some stories can’t be changed.

“You don’t think I already know that?” she starts, straining her voice until it’s almost hoarse — and it’s a luxury that most can’t afford. She doesn’t want to shout, and she doesn’t want to hurt him. If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t hold back, but she cares about Kieran — Saffron, too. She just doesn’t know how to handle any of it; damnation and salvation are at war inside of her.

“It sounds easy, I get it. I just need to get over myself and be thankful that my sister’s still alive — but it’s not that simple, Kieran. And, hey, I understand. I don’t want to weigh tragedies with you and see which one of us is more fucked up than the other, but I know that being the son of two victors must be hard. Having all of that privilege and all of that hurt to juggle? I know what it’s like to feel helpless; like you’re not allowed to lash out just because of how much you have. And maybe we shouldn’t — but we’ve both lost something, and we both have different mindsets. I’m not telling you how to feel, and I’m not telling you that you’re wrong.”

She sighs with an exhale, not realizing that she had been holding her breath.

“But I’m hurting, Kieran. I hate myself and I hate this world — and I should love it; I know I should. I got my sister back against all the odds, and I have a life that some people would die for, and now I have a new family, but — I don’t know. I let myself feel what I want to feel, and maybe that’s toxic, but I want to be in control of myself. That’s all I want. I don’t want to be helpless anymore.”

‘So, help me,’ she thinks.

PAIGE ● LOWE

A wolf takes hold of Paige's throat — and she could burn him, if she chose. Her wings unfurling and teeth digging into the pale stretch of his shoulders, just one roar would leave him as ash. But instead she only blinks, knuckles burning white-hot as she grips the hand that he places over her own. Smoke pours from her lips and she wants to turn away, to cough and to sputter against the genuine warmth that he offers her — and it's an awful sensation that the daughter of the sun is forced to endure. 

It's a tragedy when a storm wants to be quelled — and as she wraps her electricity around the iron of Kieran's being, she's unsure of what to do. To let him conduct all of her rage and sing her to sleep, or to unleash all of her fury upon him and engulf him in flames? She tries to convince herself that she'd hold his corpse to her chest if she chose the latter, and that she'd try to peel away the blackened cage of his burnt flesh and set his soul free. She would carry his bones and plant flowers in the cracks that snake across his ribs, and it's true that there could be beauty in their undoing. Skies bleed and birds fall to their deaths, but the stars still come out at night — the blood moon is still the same moon that everyone has always known.

Familiarity has always been a murderer.

She makes her choice by bowing her head and hiding behind a wave of ginger hair. Her fingers tighten around Kieran's, and she tethers herself to reality by using him as a rope. And she hangs there as unseen tears fall, and she suffocates from the rush of salty water and the pressure that Kieran applies, but she still forces a weak smile when she brushes the lock of red behind her ear and meets his gaze.

"You're right. It won't be easy, but — maybe. I don't know, Kieran. It does sound nice." She looks to the campfire that burns across from them, tilting her head and feeling her cheeks flush a heated shade of pink. "To be happy, y'know? To forgive Saffron, and to apologize for everything I've done. I can't promise it'll happen, but — I will try. And I do want your help. I don't want to do this alone. And I'm going to slip at times, Kieran, and I'm going to lash out and you're going to hate me. But I want to be better."

She rises to her feet, letting go of Kieran's hand and feeling a chill run through her at his sudden absence. The feeling doesn't last for long, however, and she grasps his arms gently and pulls him up from his seat. He's taller than she remembers, and she's lost in his eyes and the stars as she gazes up at him. It's been a long time since she's ever felt anything genuine for a man, and she had never been one for dancing during her youth, but she still rests her head against against his chest and hooks her arms around the bend of his shoulders.

"We could stay like this," she lies in the form of a whisper, and she's thankful that the night always keeps its secrets. And maybe she's a creature of habit, and maybe she's just trying to make herself whole by stealing shards of a boy who has good intentions — but for the first time, she feels something. She's not sure what it is, but it's comforting to know that he'll help her search for the truth.

"We could help each other."