Title: Do Not Go Gentle
Fandom: RWBY
Author: Risa (ice shredder)
Spoilers: Vol 3 Ep 12 is fair game. Pyrrha's POV right before Cinder kills her.
Disclaimer: not mine. All belong to RT.
Summary: "Do you believe in destiny?" The witch frowned at your defiance. "Yes." As she stepped back to summon the onyx bow and glass arrow, you realized she never understood what you meant.
.
.
You knelt there on the cracked floor of what was left of Ozpin's office. Your Achilles tendon was severed. Glass shifted and crunched where Cinder shot you with one of her black arrows. Pain flared. Excruciating pain like none you'd ever felt in your life. This was it. You would never rise again.
You remained propped on your elbows facing the ground. The night breeze caressed your flushed cheeks and sweaty body. The distinct clink of glass heels made their way to your front.
"It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours."
The silky purr of her enemy's voice washed over your senses. Unable to shut out the smug undertone of victory at what she perceived to be a pointless suicidal blaze of glory.
You never wanted to burden your friends-and Jaune-with your death. At the tender age of seventeen, walking the vaunted halls of Beacon Academy with Teams JNPR and RWBY you'd only just begun to bloom.
You remembered how excited and okay a wee bit nervous when you announced to your beloved Mother your intentions to travel to Vale and attend Beacon Academy over Haven. Not because you hated your home country. No. You wanted to mingle with kids your age but because you were held up on a pedestal-hello 4x Mistral Regional Champ here!-everyone thought you were a goddess incarnate. Too perfect, too beautiful to taint with their humble, unwashed hands. Sponsors fell over themselves to provide you the best they had to offer. You were set for life. Not wanting for anything.
You were worshiped. And you hated it.
I just want to be treated like a normal kid, Mother. You attempted to explain your heart's desire-part of it at least-to her but always ended up biting your tongue after the first two words. No need to cause a scene and upset her. You were leaving with the intent of forging your own path. Away from the fame and fortune you'd amassed over your relatively short life.
You wanted to be independent of all of that.
Sure, people would probably recognize you-that was to be expected-but the real question was this: how many would bother seeing Pyrrha the girl instead of Pyrrha the celebrity?
Turns out the former was sadly overshadowed by the latter. Just as you'd feared.
Until you met him.
Blonde and blue-eyed and completely clueless to your fame and fortune. And he was tall.
And dorky.
And clumsy.
And beautifully normal.
It was refreshing.
His name was Jaune Arc.
And from that moment forward, you fell head over heels for the dorky blonde with the antique sword.
You tried so hard to get him to notice you. Over two semesters and you couldn't muster the courage to tell your team leader and best friend, you were deeply in love with him.
Hope flared when he showed up at prom wearing a ridiculous white strapless dress. You couldn't help but laugh at the sight. But he told you an Arc never went back on their word and pulled you in close. When he asked if you wanted to dance with him, you eagerly agreed, laughter and love in your response. It was a night you never forgot.
You thought you'd finally broke through that dense skull of his that night.
But-
It wasn't enough. He still never saw. He had eyes for another who wasn't interested in the slightest.
You longed to be the one he showed up playing his guitar, singing an adorkable song that displayed his admiration. You felt your heart break further when he doesn't pick up on the subtle clues you kept sending his way. Hoping against hope he would open his eyes-
But he never did. You thought the nights you spent teaching him how to fight properly, trying to help him unlock his Semblance that he would get the hint. One couldn't spend so much time in near close physical contact with on a semi-regular basis and not grow close in some fashion-
You felt your chin being lifted by a slim, yet strong hand. Cold amber eyes stared straight into your bright green orbs.
"But take comfort in knowing. That I will use it in ways you could never have imagined."
Oh.
That's right.
You were-
on
your
knees.
With your Achilles cut.
You tried to stop her. Stall for time so the other teachers could arrive.
That was a mistake. You should've killed her.
Unable to stand, yet you managed to pull your chin out of the witch's grasp. You will never address her as the Fall Maiden. That title belonged to the bronze-skinned comatose girl Amber who'd been shot dead in a surprise attack.
It belonged to you.
"Do you believe in destiny?"
You allowed your mind to drift back to the Emerald Forest when you first unlocked Jaune's aura. Remembered feeling so overwhelmed by his willpower, his potential, that you realized he would surpass whatever you managed to accomplish in your short life. He would achieve so much more that it would overshadow anything you would ever hope to do.
You remembered pouring all your feelings, the love you could never drum up the courage to say in a single passionate kiss to the boy you loved. Judging by his reaction to you shoving him into that locker and his frantic pleas for you to stop, you believe he finally gets it.
But you sent him into the city away from the danger. He would find another to love someday and you wouldn't begrudge him the companionship.
You never liked the idea of marching to a predetermined script. You rejected the concept of fate. That philosophy shaped who you were as a person. Your fame and fortune was the product of hard work, not someone handing it to you on a silver platter. It influenced your mighty Semblance. Polarity. You quietly reveled in being the possessor of such an awesome force, but you would use it as your hidden ace. You would take fate into your own hands and refused to lose to anyone without your say-so.
You refused to let anyone or anything but you to control your life.
The witch frowned at your defiance.
"Yes."
The answer was brusque and curt. Dismissing your unshakeable faith that this was what you'd worked your entire life towards. That this was the right thing to do.
As she stepped back to summon her onyx bow and the glass arrow that would end your life, you realized she never understood what you meant.
That was okay.
Then the arrow struck.
Fire consumed your insides.
And you never saw nor felt the heat that incinerated your body, scattering your ashes to the wind.
But a small Rose bore witness your brutal death.
White light erupted from a pair of traumatized silver eyes, accompanied by a shrill scream of your name.
You never saw the dragon frozen. Or your killer maimed by a berserk Ruby before she collapsed unconscious.
But if you had-
You would've been proud.
-end