Carpe Diem [Vasco/Rowan]

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

V A S C O

What had struck me most about Delroy Wickersham wasn’t how much he believed that he could manifest some sort of rebellion against the capitol. It was his anger at the failure of all of us to have done a thing to make his life, and the lives of so many others better. We agreed on that much, that across the cracked earth of eleven’s fields change came painfully slow. And he was right to accuse me of too narrow a vision, at first. I’d once thought that we could unify our district under one banner and that might’ve been enough to see real change, but – the system ran deep across districts and through our veins.

I kept turning back to the conversation that morning, when I’d set out along the gravel roads that led to the neighboring farms near the Wickershams. We’d gone back in forth in the justice building right before his parents had come to say their goodbyes. ‘You haven’t done enough to push back against them,’ he’d said of me, and the capitol. And I’d replied that he wasn’t wrong, but that there was still much work to be done. A revolution wasn’t born from one man, nor from a single moment. We needed days, even years to gather enough of the districts to send a message.

But today wasn’t about any of that, at least, not as I wandered along a dirt path up the drive of one of the old tin roofed farmhouses.

Delroy had a wish, as did Dean Ayena, that whatever the outcome of the eighty-sixth games, his seat at Iris Gate not go to waste. The scholarship that had been given to him would go unused for as long as he was in the games, and even if he’d returned, he’d been able to play for his place with the spoils of his win. Therefore, there was space for another who deserved to dream a little bigger.

It was perhaps one of the better things I’d managed to do in my first term, helping to found Iris Gate College, though I couldn’t take too much credit. Ayena had made the list of candidates for the school, organized the faculty, and sent the budget. I’d been the one to help clean out the mansion’s old rooms and fix up the cracks along the walls. I was better at healing the fraying edges than I was creating a vision of the place.

I pulled at the heavy brass ring on the door and gave a few quick knocks in succession.

“Hola… is Rowan home?” I leaned closer to the door and leaned my shoulder against it. “I come with some news for him about Iris Gate.”

elegant

[Scion]

☽ R O W A N ☾

A young man knelt on the floor, fingers fiddling as leather straps overlay on each other, laces tightened just right. Too tight to come undone during the day. He swished his head, getting the loose strands of hair out of his face as he finished up.

"There," he said, "all done." He pushed himself up and off the floor that severely needed a good sweeping. Extending his palm, a wobbly yet strikingly feminine hand placed itself in his. A woman, his mother, didn't look happy or thankful. She simply looked blankly at her son. He tugged on her arm as she lifted herself up, only exerting the bare minimum of energy. Rowan supplied the rest and stabilized her. As soon as she was stood, they began the walk from the bedroom, where Rowan had just finished dressing her, to the small, open living area that was also the kitchen and Rowan's bedroom. The teen didn't mind sleeping on the floor so his mother could take the bed. That's just the way things were and will be.

Just as he had settled her into her old, wooden rocking chair, a sound came from the rickety front door. It wasn't a very thick door, and the bottom was too high, causing an awful draft. Because of this, people on the other side sounded like they were coming from inside the house. Rowan's brow crinkled as he heard his name and attempted to ignore his mother's mutterings. Without a word, he strode to the door and opened it cautiously.

Seeing the man in front of him, Rowan frowned. He didn't immediately recognize the man but he struck him as familiar somehow. Running his hands through his hair- he needed to find a ribbon or something- he questioned the stranger before him.

"Can I help you?" he asked, before realizing he hadn't made it clear who he was. "Um, I'm Rowan. Rowan Leigh."

elegant

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

V A S C O

I liked to believe that district eleven had taught me to know that hard work could mean something, even if it didn’t show what that was right away. And that some things weren’t celebrated enough, at least, not for our children to know they were making a difference. I’d been lucky to be born where I was, under a roof that’d put emphasis on how I could make another feel rather than just what I could provide. That often the hard work was holding on to one another through the colder winters and darker nights. To show up in a way that wasn’t just about myself, because giving lifted up those around me, and not just myself.

When Rowan emerged from behind the uneven door, I offered a gentle nod and held out the white envelope with his name scribbled in chicken scratch cursive across the front.

“Forgive me if I’m interrupting you all, I’m…” I hesitated at giving my name. Five years on, it’s a blessing to come across someone who hasn’t heard of me or recognize my face. I missed the days when I could amble up a drive and be as unremarkable man as I’d felt. No extra niceties needed, no politics getting in the way of discovering who stood on the other side of the threshold. “… one of the folks that helps tend the grounds on-campus at Iris Gate.”

Not that it was an out-and-out lie. I did help now and again to tend to the grounds. I shifted on my feet.

“Rowan, I hear you were a good friend to Delroy Wickersham.” Half the idea had been his, with a pinch of Dean Ayena, and a dash of my own thinking. It turned out that Del had always been an advocate for those around him in ways big and small. “Well, in light of… what’s happened, he didn’t want his spot going unfilled. He said that he wanted his money to keep getting used, and that someone deserved to be there if he couldn’t.”

We didn’t know yet if he’d ever be back. A part of me clung to Katelyn bringing him home, or Neysa, but after forty-seven years, you try not to speculate on such things. Praying, I’d found, was better than trying to figure out the future.

“We want you to study at Iris Gate, Rowan. To live and learn and earn your degree. If you want.”

elegant

[Scion]

☽ R O W A N ☾

Rowan stared blankly at the man before him. It took him a moment to recompose himself after tossing what he had said around in his mind and finally coming to register the words that were spoken to him.

The Reaping went as well as any other year. You get identified, you stand in place. Some kid cries, you bite your lip and wish your name doesn’t get called. Standard stuff. But this year was different. This year, Rowan knew the kid; it was Del. Delroy. He had only just spoken to him a few weeks ago. What were the odds that Del would come back into his life only to be torn right out of it?

He went up to that building hoping to find that spark of encouragement. And he found one, he really did. Just knowing Del thought he’d be a great fit meant a lot to him. But ever since he left, it was all gone. He was gone. Even if he came back, it wouldn’t be the same.

But now a ticket in has presented itself to the young man, at Del’s recommendation. Could he really just turn it away knowing that this was his wish? Perhaps even one of his last. And he would take that leap if not for a pressing issue that had eaten away at Rowan’s thoughts.

”Would you like to come in?” he asked with an awkward curl of his lips, mainly trying to be polite. ”If you don’t mind, I have a few questions.”

elegant

[marguerite harvard d2a (zori)]

V A S C O

If he was overjoyed by the offer, Rowan wasn’t one to show it. He had an earnestness to how he hung his shoulders. Not that I was surprised. Delroy didn’t seem the type to pick someone on a whim. If he’d seen something in Rowan, he’d have been certain of it. And if it turned out to be one of his final wishes, then no one could fault him for being generous. No wonder Ayena had found Delroy so impressive. All of sixteen, and already thinking of everyone but himself.

‘Would you like to come in?’ Rowan spoke. He’d given the thought time to breathe and turn over. Not that I minded. ‘If you don’t mind, I have a few questions.’

“Of course, not at all. You’re probably wondering what it all means.” I said with a nod. The news couldn’t be taken lightly, not from its source or what it brought to Rowan. I didn’t know the nature of how Delroy had known him, but it couldn’t have been easy to watch him in the games. I’d caught myself feeling down now and again seeing scenes of him and Neysa trudging across the ice. I suppose it should’ve gotten easier or I should’ve felt less, but when you’ve lost as much as I have, you never forget the cost of it.

There’s a warmth to his home between the dust and the sunlight streaming in from one of the windows. I wouldn’t be one to call it small, as I hadn’t grown up in a house much bigger. Time had left us a bigger plot of land, and a homestead Emma and I had grown into. But before all of that, it was a bed for the boys and a cot for my sister, with my parents behind a sheet that hung on the other half of the living room.

I didn’t think a lot about those days now. Not enough, with my brothers all moved on and each of us in our own homesteads. I’d have to ask Druso if he remembered the night we counted to ten thousand before we fell asleep.

“Thank you for inviting me in,” I said. I stepped closer into the wall that held the kitchen and turned to look at Rowan. “I’m happy to try and answer your questions. I’ll do my best to answer them, good as I can. What’s on your mind?”

elegant