the story of the viking (harbinger)

a r a b e l l a .

Darker times will come and go
Times you need to see her smile
And mothers' hands are warm and mild

The sound of his name encourages him to turn. His eyes meet Arabella's as he places the things in his hand back down onto the bench. Her lips split into a wide smile, her feet coming to a halt in front of him. And for the first time since arriving in the Capitol she had Harbinger Rhodes full attention. She took the opportunity to examine him. In her mind she had seen him as a warrior of steel. A heart of ice, one that could only be melted by the love of his sweetheart. But as she looked at him she didn't see an unrealistic hero that she had painted in her mind. When she stripped it all away and really just looked at the person before her, all she saw a man. A man whose eyes were haunted with the ghosts of his past. Whose body was scared by the torture that she was about to endure.

"Learning first aid?" He asks and Arabella quickly looks around him to the array of different equipment and materials that were displayed on the table. If she was being honest with him, she would say no. She would tell him that she was more interested in him, rather than the skills that she acquire at the station. But she was starting to learn that many people didn't appreciate how forward she could be.

So instead she nods, "yes, I was indeed looking to learn some more about the procedures used when preforming first aid."

It was proving to be a challenge for her to to outright ask the questions that danced on the edge of her tongue. Such as what was she to suspect the moment she steps foot in the arena? Was it as cruel and torturous that Katelyn had threatened? How do you find it in yourself to swing a blade at another human being? Another child? How do you get past murdering someone you gain a connection with? Do you ever get past it?

Do you think I have a chance? A chance at surviving? At coming home?

And suddenly any thoughts about a dragon blade seemed petty. Any desires to touch it, to wield it was in the back of her mind as she  answers to her unasked questions.

But instead of bombarding him with a million questions quickly she moves to stand next to him at the table, her eyes examining the equipment. Picking up a bandage she motions for him to extend his arm, "do you mind assisting me in my learnings?" She would be more tactful with her approach.

She felt like she just didn't want the answers to her questions, she needed them. She hated to admit it, because she wanted to be brave like the girls in her stories, but she was scared. Scared of the things she was going to face. Of the things that she was going to do. Maybe she was just looking for reassurance. Or maybe she was looking for validation for the sins she was going to preform, because she was not quite sure she would forgive herself. But maybe it would be okay if she got forgiveness elsewhere. "Please, I would be forever grateful." 

a r a b e l l a .

Darker times will come and go
Times you need to see her smile
And mothers' hands are warm and mild

"I'll help you with what I know." He offers as he turns back to face the table. Arabella watched as he picks up a cloth bandage. She was familiar with cloth bandages, often she would be the one to help clean up injuries that the children either arrived with or gained whilst under the orphanages care. On more than one occasion she had to stitch up gashes that refused to stop bleeding, drops of scarlet soaking into the material of her plain shirt. The first time she had been exposed to such bleeding her hands had shook, but she had taken a deep breath, counted to three and put aside her fear. She knew that if she didn't stop the bleeding that child would have died. So she did, she stopped it. The matron had not given it a second look, her eyes skimming past her and the blood that painted her hands and scarlet, before she turned up her nose and walked away.

But when Harbinger Rhodes begins his explanation she nods along, her eyes tracking each and every movement, though her mind is elsewhere as she tries to figure out the best way to approach him with the questions that she needed answers too. He unrolls the bandage slowly wrapping it around his hand. "It's just tight enough to control the bleeding, but I can still freely move my fingers." He shows Arabella his hand, wiggling his fingers around before he begins to unwrap it.

"You try," he hands the bandage to her, she takes it pulling back the sleeve of her uniform. She begins wrapping it around her hand, firmly, "I lived in an orphanage for most my life. For so long I was alone, but a few years ago I meet Ellen and Matthew. They take good care of me. I know that I am hard work, but despite that they love me..." She doesn't really know why she is telling him this, but she can't see, to stop the words from falling from her lips.

The bandage was wrapped halfway up her forearm, she moves to show him her handy work, wiggling her fingers, and clenching her fist the way he had. "I love them as well. And it scares me to know what they might see when the games start. What they will see happen to me..." She trails off, her fingers picking at the frayed end of the cloth bandage. "But worse, what they might witness me do."

Taking a deep breath she meets Harbingers eyes again. "I- I, ah," she was stumbling over her words, "if you don't mind me asking, but what was the bloodbath like?" The question falls past her lips and she hold her breath, scared that if she breathed out she might scare him off. That he might run and leave her standing here with questions still burning through her mind on an endless loop, threatening to drive her insane.

a r a b e l l a .

Darker times will come and go
Times you need to see her smile
And mothers' hands are warm and mild

He takes a deep breath.

She done it, she'd sacred him away by reliving the nightmare of his past. She was about to backtrack, to apologise and beg him not to run. She notices how he doesn't maintain eye contact as he speaks, as though her revealing some of her history might make him get too invested in her, causing him unnecessary pain. Or maybe it was simply that he lacked confidence. She hadn't seen him approached by other tributes, she hadn't seen him reach out to herself or Cyro. But here he was, in the gym. Maybe he just didn't know how to approach us, scared that he might say something wrong, something that might cost herself or Cyro our lives.

But after a moment of silence he begins to talk, choosing his words carefully. He mentions that he too had similar fears to her coming into the games. Scared about what the people who were closest to him might think, if he made it through to the end, his hands covered with blood of the innocent. He tells her that the only way he managed to deal with his fears was to push them into the back of his mind, where he wouldn't be able to find them. He had to put himself first, could not think of what others night think of him or he would not have survived.

Finally he raises his gaze, his eyes seeking out her own. She watches him closely, her lips pulling back into a small smile, encouraging him to go on as she places the bandage back down onto the bench, giving the victor her full attention. "As for the bloodbath, I wouldn't know. I left right away." Arabella nods, it was a smart decision in some ways, escaping the chaos on the bloodbath. But Arabella found herself wandering how she would acquire a weapon, or something like medical supplies if she fled so quickly. But on the other side of the coin, if she hung around for a few moment she might just be dead. Her skull crushed in, knife protruding from her eye piercing her brain. Or maybe a tribute would break her leg, or sever it clean from her body, ruining her chances for escape.

Her throat goes dry the more she thinks about. Suddenly it was all feeling so real talking to Harbinger. Her legs started to feel shaky and she finds herself clinging a bit tighter to the bench, talking some of her weight.

She closes her eyes for a moment, before forcing herself to focus on what the victor was saying. "The gamemakers will want you to kill yourself over supplies. I refused to play their game, so I fled. If you really feel the need to get supplies, a weapon and bag at most. Do not kill yourself getting things you can obtain later." Arabella nods again, having no desire to hang around for things that could cost her her life.

"Yeah, you are right. I don't believe I will think I will hang around for too long. Just the essentials." She takes a deep breath, looking away from the victor as her body sways a bit. Her voice drops, the words so quiet that she is not sure that he will hear her, "how did you do it?" She doesn't look at him for the longest moment, her eyes glued to the ground before she gathered her courage looking him in the eye. "What do you tell yourself to make it okay? How should I justify it to myself to swing my blade at another child with the intent to kill?"

She looks away again, briefly, scared about what she might see in her face. But she wasn't done yet, she still had questions that she needed answers too. "I know, I won't have a choice. I know when it comes down to it I will swing my blade, I will attack with the desire to kill. But..." her voice breaks as she fights off tears refusing to cry in front of him, "But what if it comes down to me and one- one of my allies? What if it is Cyro, and I have to choose between myself and a father? I- I don't think I could live with myself knowing that I had just allowed another child to become an orphan."