A/N: May 23, 2019.

This is it. This is how I planned to end it from the very conception of this fic. It's… probably not what you expected, but it's the scene that ties it all up for me. This part of my life- including this fic, which has occupied more time than any of my actual uni homework ever did over the last 1.5 years- is done. It's done.

OST: "Cold" by Jeff Williams. All lyrics belong to him and RT and whoever else. Not me, alas- even I'm not that mean as to come up with these lyrics.

-Epilogue-

I never felt that it was wise to wish too much
To dream too big would only lead to being crushed

So this was life, now.

It was… different. Scary. In all his life, he had been surrounded by people constantly. Call it growing up in a busy home with so many siblings, or being so thoroughly loved and cherished by such kind parents. His life had always been a gentle cocoon of safety and warmth and home, kept inside his family cottage in their small rural village with no one but his sisters for company. There had never been a dull moment, but there had never been any excitement, either.

It's time to go. This ritual was routine by now- he had done it every single night for the last few months. He crawled out of his bedroll, wincing as tiny twigs and branches cracked underneath his weight. Thankfully, no one stirred, leaving him to his thoughts as he clipped his weapons to his belt, put on his shoes, and headed out into the darkness, mind drifting far away.

Despite the affection he had received, the walls in his life had always felt so closed in, so suffocating. He had lived in the confines of his home, of his family's embrace, for so long that the idea of adventure was one that was fixated in the back of his mind as nothing but a pipe dream. He had grown up on stories of adventure, see- stories of great heroes and villains, of wars to reclaim peace and the warriors which fought them. Warriors like his forebears. His great-great-grandfather's sword, used to valiantly vanquish his foes during the Great War, had been forever presented on their mantelpiece above the fireplace, proof that the Arcs had been strong in Remnant's time of need. Even as a child, the boy would hold onto the edge of the mantel, stand on his tippy toes, and gaze wide-eyed at the sword, imagination running wild with all of the adventures the wielder could have.

And so, a young Jaune Arc had dreamed.

He hadn't known what being a Huntsman truly meant, or what it entailed. All he had understood was that they were heroes, and he wanted to be one. And what could be better for a future Huntsman than going to Beacon Academy?

When his parents tried to dissuade him when he was old enough to apply, he simply ignored them. When he came upon the man who could forge transcripts for him, making it seem as if he'd attended a combat school- because what even was a combat school? There wasn't one anywhere near his home, and he'd only ever fought with his sisters, play-fighting- he had taken up the man's offer gladly, paying him with every lien of allowance Jaune had ever saved up in his life. And when the acceptance letters came, all he could do was take Crocea Mors, some hand-me-down armour, and pack his bags. He had decided- he was going to Beacon.

And yet, no one had trusted him. That had been the greatest disappointment of his young life- when he said he'd go to Beacon and become a warrior, all that his parents said in return was, "Okay, honey. Go ahead. We'll be waiting right here for you. And if something happens, and you… have to come home… don't worry about it. We love you lots, okay?"

And while that sentiment was kind and he loved his parents and his sisters and his little home, it wasn't what he had wanted. He had wanted them to sing him praises as he walked out the door, filling him with confidence and support. He hadn't want their unconditional love persisting through his (in their eyes) inevitable failure.

He hadn't wanted to think of any inevitable failure.

Yet, on the journey to Vale, that seed had already been planted in his mind. He might fail. And then might transformed into will which transformed into oh my god, I'm going to die there, aren't I?

So his dreams of being a Huntsman began to wither away.

Then I met you, you weren't afraid of anything
You taught me how to leave the ground, to use my wings

And then, he had met her.

She was tall, he had first thought. Meeting his gaze firmly with the most brilliant green eyes he had ever seen, she had been really, really tall to be able to match him, even though she had been wearing heels. She was tall, and proud, and beautiful, and kind, and- holy heck, look at her arms, how strong is she?- yet, she still had all the grace of someone who had known nothing but success all her life, but was still so humble and pure that no one could ever hate her for it. Her talent was clear from the moment that they had met, and it intimidated him.

Yet, she had smiled at him. She had encouraged him from the start, praising his leadership qualities, acknowledging his love of tactics, making him feel worthy amongst a class of peers whose abilities were so far above his own, he almost longed for the day his trickery was found, and he'd return to the safety of his little home in the woods of Mistral.

He had put her through hell. She had worried endlessly about him, and before his very eyes, he watched as this proud, capable young woman whom everyone in Beacon respected with all their hearts shrivelled into a shadow of her former glory. She had her own issues, and she struggled to stay afloat. And he abandoned her when she had needed him the most.

Yet, when he had finally owned up to his mistakes- his grave, horrible mistakes, too many to count- she forgave him. She had smiled, and tilted her head so sweetly, and clasped her hands in front of her and shifted just so- and the light in her eyes made him want to sing in a way he had never experienced before. He hadn't known how to handle that flash of emotions back then. Now, he knew what to call that feeling, that unexpected surge of safety and pride and longing and warmth she managed to ignite within him. Now, he knew.

Now, it was too late for that.

He sighed, reaching into his pocket as he reached a nearby clearing. From this far away, his teammates wouldn't hear him. The dense trees would block out the sound.

A flash of light caught his attention, making him pause in place. With the sun fully tucked away behind the horizon, and the moon shining brightly above the thick foliage of the forest, the fireflies had come out in the early springtime air. Their bodies glowed, little wings buzzing as they flitted around the clearing, dancing against a backdrop of leaves and starry, moonlit sky. They were beautiful.

…I wish you were here to see this.

I never thought a hero would ever come my way
But more than that I never thought you'd be taken away

But she had only continued to shine in his eyes. Her fighting was magnificent- she didn't battle, she danced. She leapt and twirled and spun with all of the grace and elegance of a ballerina, flying through the air with movements so quick and effortless that he had always felt like he could fly with her, too.

After their first set of evaluations, the difference in their skill levels had been utterly comical. She had landed so far above anyone else in their class that it made their partnership almost pathetic, an act of pity. Every time people saw them together, he could feel their judgement landing upon him. After all, how did someone as weak as him survive if it weren't for a genius like her standing by his side?

Over time, he had slowly realized just how important of a Huntress she would be for Remnant. It wasn't just the cereal adverts- she was everywhere, in interviews, in papers, headlining left and right for the past few years. During their dinners in downtown Vale every weekend, he had always been quick to notice how people stared at her, recognizing her for her beauty and strength. She had brought hope to people. Wasn't that what a hero was supposed to do?

She had always been like a superhero to him when she stepped onto the battlefield. Yet, the tenderness she had always shown him the moment she stepped off was what truly defined her in his eyes.

She took the time to teach him how to fight- starting from the basics, forever patient and nurturing. When it had come to him, she had always had time to assist him, no matter how many silly questions he asked, no matter how many mistakes he made.

How could he not have seen her warmth- how it had always been just for him?

He opened up his Scroll. The folder he wanted was already open on the screen- he barely used the device anymore, except during these evening bouts. Flipping through the long list of different files, he searched for the one he wanted to start off with that night. The first few on the list were greyed out, as he felt confident enough in their contents to no longer need their words of wisdom. The column on his screen which displayed how many times each of those videos had been played were proof of that- he had already rewatched those first lessons enough times to have memorized each word, each pause, each breath, each smile.

The thought of her smile made him pause. When had he first realized that he wanted to see it, more than anything?

He shivered. It was cold.

My days of doubt were in the past with you around
You helped me feel I had a place- direction found

He found the next lesson on the list which he had to conquer. Pressing play, he trembled as her voice, so soft and gentle and knowing began to speak. Her smile was beautiful, eyes sparkling in the light of the moon, hair a breathtaking halo of fire and life against the dark blue sky above Beacon.

I have to start soon, he thought absently. If he wasn't careful, he could easily stand there and just watch the videos, rather than following along with their instructions. It was so easy to get lost in her voice- especially now that these short, simple tutorials were the only way he could hear it anymore.

It lead him through a series of exercises, starting from strength training to a bit of cardio. She had always been good about supplementing his weakness, since he hadn't built a body ready for combat before going to Beacon. He had grown a lot stronger since the initiation- wow, that feels like a lifetime ago- but he still wasn't strong enough. He needed to better himself, until he was confident he could prevent a tragedy like hers from ever happening again.

It was only thanks to her support that he had made it anywhere in Beacon. He knew that, now- it had taken him a long time to come to terms with it, but it was true. Their training sessions on top of their dormitory roof were exactly what he had needed to catch up to his peers. Although he had thought it to be an impossible task, by the time the Vytal Festival had actually turned the corner and landed in Vale, he really had been ready.

It was all thanks to her. He was glad that he had been able to tell her how much he appreciated her before the end.

The lesson ended, then automatically looped back to the start. He sighed, feeling himself heat up in the chilly night air underneath all of his layers, sweat beading on his brow. He couldn't stop now. If he did, then he'd be haunted with thoughts of her all night, and he'd never get to sleep.

Regret was a cruel mistress.

You showed me that a greater dream can be achieved
Enough resolve will conquer all if we believe

He had been so, so foolish.

As he moved onto the next video, and then the next, playing them over and over again despite the screaming in his muscles, his mind continued to wander. Somehow, his thoughts landed on the dance- just a few weeks before everything had come to an end.

It was scary to think that nearly a year had gone by since then.

His infatuation with Weiss had occurred more out of a whim than anything. The pale girl had been beautiful, that was for sure- beautiful in this icy way, carrying herself like a princess in a wintry fairy tale. She had always been ethereal, her strength almost magical with her flawless use of Dust. Her singing voice had sounded perfect, enough to compete with the sounds of angels. She had been totally different from any woman he had ever met before in his life, matching the Huntresses he had heard of in all of his bedtime stories as a child. Combined with the fact that she was around him all the time, he had thought it to be reasonable enough that these feelings of love and longing and admiration all stemmed from her. It hadn't mattered that Weiss never treated him well- he was infatuated with the idea of her.

And yet, his partner never wavered. How had she felt, watching him drone on and on about their classmate? How had she felt, knowing that if he achieved his happiness, she would never find hers?

She still had never strayed.

The very thought of having to watch his partner fall in love with another sent white-hot daggers of pain lancing through his heart, and he stopped short, wheezing slightly from the exertion. He couldn't imagine it- he just couldn't. The thought of life at Beacon without her by his side… it wasn't Beacon, if it wasn't her waking up next to him every morning.

His face flushed red, and he let his head hang back, ignoring the video lesson which continued to play without him. She was right there beside me for eight whole months, he groaned internally. I could've said something and reached out at any time. …I'm the biggest idiot.

But that was why the dance was such a treasured memory. He had done something utterly humiliating- he hadn't been able to live it down for weeks- and yet, for the first time in his life, he just hadn't cared. Because when he had shown up in that silly strapless dress, she had doubled over and laughed her heart out and held his hands and wrapped her arms around his neck and drawn him in close and laid her head on his shoulder and- and everything about her, dancing in his arms, had fit perfectly. He just hadn't realized it yet.

The light you gave to guide me will never fade away
But moving forward never felt as hard as today

Sighing, he moved back to the tree stump, where he had placed his Scroll. There was always one lesson which he finished with- the same one, every single night. It was the only video which contained anything other than explicit instructions or explanations. It was the only video where, when it played, it truly felt like she was still there with him.

Even when you're gone, you're still teaching me to be better, he thought sadly as the video began to play. He silently went through the video over, and over, and over again, pressing the rewind button before it got to the end every single time. The message she had there was special. He didn't deserve to hear it yet.

As he darted to and fro, spinning and slashing his way through unseen enemies at her command, his willpower wavered momentarily, seeing the leaves around him rustling with each shockwave of energy he conjured with every swing of his blade. He had definitely grown stronger since the Fall. If I had been this strong back then… would things have been different?

His breathing stuttered, and suddenly, he was on his knees, sword lying limply by his side. His head fell back, arms reaching out, eyes closing- and in the darkness, under his eyelids, he could still see her face. He could feel the barest hint of her lips upon hers, and the rightness of it all exploded within his chest once more.

And it hurt. Dammit, how it hurt, more than anything. He'd go to the moon and back if the aching could cease, if he could be freed from the memory of her last goodbye to him.

Because the fact of the matter was, he had seen it. Despite her best efforts to hide her words away, hiding her mouth behind the bars of the locker she had pushed him into during the Fall, he had seen what she had mouthed silently from the other side of the locker door. He had seen her lips form the words, giving him her heart, the weight of her feelings bared for him to finally see. Seeing her lips, thin and chapped and bleeding, forming those three words- her eyes, so beautiful, looking so dull and broken in the darkness- that was what he had needed all along to piece together his own feelings.

He almost wished as if he had never figured it out.

Now it's cold without you here

He looked down at his hands. They were gloved, just as always- there was nothing special about them, about him. He hadn't been strong enough to hold her in his arms, to keep her by his side. He had let her go, thanks to his weakness. She had felt the need to protect him, and that was why she had entered the final battle alone.

If only…

He wished, more than anything, that he had listened to her throughout their time at Beacon. Her one piece of advice to him had always been the same- "Practice summoning your Aura." And yet, he had always shied away from it, too embarrassed to not have uncovered his Semblance that he never fought to grow past that unease.

The day she had unlocked his powers, his Aura had been white. He clenched his fists, and soon, he shoved one gloved knuckle into his mouth, biting down to stifle the roar of anger that ripped past his lips. He still didn't know how to use his Aura, how to coat his hands in the magical glow the same way she had used her polarity, the black energy drawing him in with its light every single time. He still didn't know how to bring forth that brilliant white power, didn't know how to use it to defend his friends- defend her.

And yet, he didn't want it to be white. It was a childish thought, really- but there was a part of his heart that desperately wished for something different. When the day he was able to properly control his Aura and Semblance finally came, he wanted the light to be grey.

Wouldn't that mean that a part of her lived on in him? Without her, he was so, so cold. All he wanted was to have her back.

It's like winter lasts all year

The night was growing colder, the winter's chill not entirely gone in the early spring months. He shivered, slowly climbing back to his feet. He picked up his sword carefully, eyes catching on the hilt. He glanced down at his shield, visualizing perfectly how the design of her circlet used to sit upon her brow.

All that remained was her armour, melded into his. All he had left were these videos, her armour, the single jade stud in his ear- the colour of her eyes, he had bought it just because of that, it had looked so beautiful on her, god what he'd give to see those eyes in person again- and the ring hanging from a chain around his neck.

She had loved her weapons. Cherished them, taken such care with them that she had inspired him to polish and hone the edge of Crocea Mors the same way. After every bout, ever spar, every match, she would sit down in the locker room and tenderly clean her sword, her shield. She'd oil the gears, tinkering with the mechanisms until they shifted smooth and soundlessly. She'd scrub away the dirt, polishing the metal until it gleamed.

He could still remember how she had paused when JNPR had asked whether she had made the duo herself- the weight of her answering words had stuck with him.

"I, um… yeah. I did. They've been with me a long, long time."

She had shifted, and looked away, and changed the subject as soon as possible- but the warmth and affection in her eyes when maintaining Miló and Akoúo had always lit a fire in him, pushing him to keep going.

It felt only right to continue carrying her most prized possessions with him as long as he could, too.

But your star's still in the sky

Her voice continued to play on loop in the background. He began to follow along once more, for the last few rounds of the night. He would head back to the campsite soon.

With a grunt of exertion, he let himself be carried away by her voice, travelling back in time until he was standing upon the empty roof of their dormitory. So many memories hung in the air of that place- both positive, and negative. They had fought there, more than once- but they had also sat there in the twilight, side by side, wordlessly watching the sun set and the moon rise, and the way the light had reflected off her pale face had enraptured him.

He slashed and stabbed the air, relishing in the growing intensity of his strikes, the growing pain in his body from the strain.

Rather than stopping the video early, however, he simply let the ending play. He had earned it, just once- then, he'd get back to the grind, focusing on his attacks and footwork until he was ready to turn in for the night. He caught his breath, panting as he straightened up, unable to keep the pain and loneliness off his face.

It hurt enough to have to hide it in the daytime. At night, at least, he could be honest with himself.

"I know this can be frustrating," the video said kindly. He turned to watch her face, so hopeful as she continued on, "And it can feel like so much effort to progress such a small amount. But… I want you to know that I'm proud of you."

He looked away, then glanced back, the guilt nauseating. I don't deserve to have your praise.

She couldn't hear his thoughts, though. "I've never met someone so determined to better themself. You've grown so much since we started training. And I know this is just the beginning."

He stepped closer, feeling the pain well up in him even further, fresh and raw.

She finally concluded, "Jaune… I… I… I want you to know that I am just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune."

His lip wobbled, and the video looped back to the start. His eyes filled with tears, and he tilted his head back, focusing his gaze to the treetops. The fireflies still danced around him, and he could see the stars glimmering through the cracks in the leaves, and the space between his fingers felt woefully empty without hers there to fill in the piece of him that had been missing since always- the piece that she, as he had learned too late, could have always filled perfectly.

In the bushes, he heard a creature rustle about. An owl hooted in the distance, and cicadas chirped faintly. The world was still turning, and she wasn't there.

She's not here.

That thought filled him with rage and frustration and anger, and all he could do was turn back to the video, settle down into a defensive stance, and begin his training anew.

The world was still turning.

So I won't say goodbye

"Jaune… I… I…" the voice trailed off, and he could only smile wistfully as he reached the end of the training video for the nth time that night. For the millionth time, he wondered, What was she about to say to me during the solstice? Why did she hesitate?

His heart wanted to hope- yet he didn't know whether the hope brought more pain, or comfort.

If I had confessed back then, what would have happened?

There was no point in the 'ifs'. His feelings had never been clear to him until the day her lips had touched his, and every nerve ending had suddenly shot signals up his spine, and he jolted and his skin buzzed and suddenly he knew what it was to be alive. The guilt which that realization carried would be his punishment, forever.

He knew what she would say next in the video. "I want you to know that I am just happy to be a part of your life. I'll always be here for you, Jaune."

Life would have to go on- for him, at least. He swung his sword again, blinking as the gold accenting his blade caught his eye. I'm not alone. You've always been right by my side, and you always will be.

Training was over for the night. Dawn would be in a few hours. He needed his rest. Their journey would continue tomorrow.

I don't have to say goodbye

After he put Crocea Mors away and curled back up in his bedroll, with his companions sleeping soundly by his side, he felt a warmth well up beside him. The exhaustion faded away as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and his hand automatically clutched the ring he had worn around his neck ever since their stop at the blacksmith's forge. There was an energy which pulsed through the ring- he couldn't name it, but it was there. It felt nostalgic in his hands, like it belonged there- like it was meant to be there, forever and always.

It felt like Pyrrha.

He swallowed down the tears which threatened to choke him up, rolling over to his left side. His right ear throbbed in the air, the lobe still tender from the recent piercing. He didn't mind it, though- the green stud in his ear, and all the pain that accompanied the weight of that burden, was just a reminder of his past, and of his promise to the future. He'd grow into someone she would have been proud of- so that, whenever he closed his eyes and saw her smiling face and tender gaze, he'd be able to imagine standing proudly by her side, her equal at last.

Warmth blossomed in his chest at that thought. He didn't know if he'd ever reach that goal, but it was a start. It took away some of the ache, and for now, that was enough. So, he took a deep breath in, out- 1, 2-

And smiled.

So… I'll do my best to live for the both of us, Pyrrha. I promise- just you watch.

He'd make sure of it.

Laws of Attraction

-fin-

*****FINAL THOUGHTS

(AKA long-winded final author's note below) OST: I Raise My Cup to Him by Anais Mitchell

A/N: And that's that. We're finally done this mammoth of a project.

It's been quite a ride. I definitely didn't think I would finish this fic, especially after the negativity that surrounded it when I mentioned it would stay in the canon. But now, I'm glad I stuck with it. It feels incredibly satisfying to have started a long work like this and to have seen it through all the way- it's definitely the most involved fanfic I've ever written, as well as one of the longest works I've written since I was a teenager. I'm honestly sort of emotional posting this epilogue.

I wrote this fic in order to get some closure for myself. I love Pyrrha- she's my favourite RWBY character by far- but I don't think RT did a very good job setting up Pyrrha's death in the show. However, when she died, I wasn't surprised, since to me, her actions were fairly in-character. They were really, really stupid, but also, Pyrrha's kind of an idiot at times, so it worked for me. Hell, she's Achilles, after all. She's supposed to be overconfident and underestimate everyone around her, and she's supposed to fly up in a rage when the person she cares about is in danger. However, her true nature- the over-confidence, the desperate need to protect others, the lack of stability and longing for real connection, the impulsivity and invincibility complex- were very lost in the show since she was just a secondary character. RT sort of dropped the ball on making this really cool (and really dumb) character convincing.

So, this project was a challenge to myself to see if I could write a compelling story that could flesh out Pyrrha's character so we could understand her skewed logic at the end- so that her death, while still frustrating and tragic and awful, made sense in her mind. She didn't make good decisions, and yeah her choices frustrate me (as someone who obviously knows more about the overall situation by being a viewer of the show) for being so dumb, but they were made with the knowledge which she had, and she made them by herself in the end.

I know that many of you reading may not like the fact I left LoA in the canon. You wanted a happy ending. That's fair. But, I'm proud of this piece. This story has always been (it's right there in the summary, folks) about fleshing out Pyrrha in the canon show, with all of her silly decisions and idiosyncrasies included. Although I haven't checked, I've been told that there are a ton of AU-happy ending fics for Pyrrha surviving, so I hope you find an amazing one for you, if you're one of those people!

I can't begin to thank everyone who has stuck around for all this time. There are so many people who came in and out throughout this work, but there are a few people who steadily commented this whole time. For those people – you know who you are, I reply to almost all my reviews after all – I seriously wouldn't have finished it if it weren't for your support. For all the silent readers, I'd love to hear even just one comment from y'all now that this is all over.

I (obviously) have other fics in the works. Some of those are for RWBY, but I really should watch volume 6 first. You'll probably see oneshots/short stories from me about side characters set in the LoA-verse. I'd love to see the kind of support y'all showed this fic in other works of mine. If you have ideas for other stories or deep dives into characters (RWBY or otherwise) that you'd like to see me write, feel free to PM me! I might take it on ;)

Thanks for all the support over the last eighteen months. It's been rad. I hope you've enjoyed this journey too, whether you've been reading along live, are returning to this fic to binge another time, or are checking this out long after it was completed. See you in my other works!