Something is pulling her towards the Eluetheria Plains. She doesn’t know why she feels like she must travel there, but she follows that pull. Her heart, though as broken as it may seem, had always steered her right. She had never been to Eluetheria Plains before, but it was as if her feet knew the way. They kept her pace slow and steady, meandering her way towards the plains. She was in no hurry to get there, though if she truly knew and understood what was waiting for her there, she might have picked up her pace.

It wasn’t until she got on the other side of the mountain range that she smelled something very familiar upon the air. Eyes looked upon the horizon, scanning and searching. Feet still carried her further, this time with a purpose. She followed the scent that seemed ever so familiar, but it was faint.

But when she finally captured his scent, her feet stopped. It couldn’t be. Metaphor could not be here. Her heart was playing tricks on her. Despite the rapid beating she felt within her chest and the excitement fill her body, she did not believe it to be true. Her body was playing tricks on her, cruel and evil tricks.

Further she walked, her pace quickened, but not too much so. It was until she saw his figure on the horizon that she began to believe what her heart and nose had been telling her all along. Metaphor was here! How he had come to be here was a mystery, a mystery that she didn’t care to solve. In this moment, nothing mattered.

Feet began to full her body forward at a gallop, closing the distance between herself and Metaphor. She wants to call out to him, to tell him that she has waited for him, but something holds her back. What if Metaphor had found another? What if he didn’t remember her at all? Worry and fear began to fill her body and her pace slowed. She did not want to assault him with her feelings if they were not to be reciprocated. While she wanted to throw herself at him, she did not want to feel the sting of rejection if that was her fate.

By now the distance between them is only a matter of feet. She halts her progression, her eyes resting on the sorrel. She whickers softly to him to get his attention. She can only hope that he remembers her, that he remembers the time they spent in Elysian. She hopes that he feels the same for her as she does for him. That would make this reunion so much sweeter. She is silent then, hoping, praying that he remembers.

@Metaphor

She expects to see his face light up with joy, to fall into her embrace like lost lovers do. But he doesn’t do that. He simply looks at her and comes forward. His smile is soft and gentle, but he doesn’t speak to her. She stands there quietly, watching as he comes forward, waiting and hoping that he remembers her.

And then his lips are on her and she stands perfectly still, relishing the feel of him again. She had missed these touches, missed the way he made her skin light on fire. She can feel the love she has for Metaphor rise within her once again and she allows her eyelids to close softly.

But when he whispers into hear ear, she turns her head to lock eyes with him. For the first time, she dips her head into his neck, taking comfort in the feel of his skin against her own. She lingers there for a moment before she speaks, her words soft and full of love. “I am so happy you are here.” There is emotion in her voice, in the way her voice waivers.

She wants to get a better look at him, but there is only so much moonlight to illuminate their bodies. She will have to wait until tomorrow when the sun has risen. And so she leans into him, praying that he will not simply vanish. “Please tell me you are real…” She supposes that anything could happen. He could be a figment of her imagination or a vision sent by the Gods. He feels so real and she wants to believe that he is really here. But there is something holding her back.

She pulls away from him to look him in the eye. He feels and smells real, but she understands how the mind can play cruel tricks on her. She knows that the Gods can be cruel but they can also be giving. Perhaps they had sent him here, to give her a second chance to right her wrongs. Perhaps this was her second chance to love.

@Metaphor

Her name upon his lips was so sweet and soothing. It was as if her name was the sweetest name to ever be said from his lips. Nothing else mattered in this moment except the two of them. It was too perfect and honestly, Katniss feared that should she blink, he might be ripped from her grasps yet again. She didn’t want to let him go.

When he began to tell his tale of loss, Katniss could relate all too well. She remembered the day she was ripped from Elysian…the day that magic had swallowed the Rift and she awoke here in Novus, so utterly alone. She watched his pacing, knowing that’s how she felt the moment her eyes finally opened in a new place. She had been scared and alone, but she had made something of her life here…or at least she was trying. Here, though, she was no queen. Would he still love her? She liked to think that his love ran so much deeper. After all, it did with her. He could be an outcast, a traitor, and she would still love him.

When he said that he never stopped searching for her, she all but fell into his embrace again. Her neck rested softly against his own, her lips lapping softly at the skin of his shoulder. The action was affectionate, probably more affection than the warrior had ever shown. “My story is the same. I feared I had lost you forever. But everywhere I wandered, I never stopped looking. That ache in my heart never stopped so I knew you were alive…somewhere.” She had always believed that he was still alive, that he was somewhere, simply lost. But now she had found him and the ache in her heart had turned into something so much stronger. But no longer was it an ache, but a feeling that for so long, Katniss had suppressed.

Love had always been something her mother had told her would make her weak. Love clouded her judgement and she had been put on this earth to be a warrior. Warriors could not show a weakness such as love. They had to be tough, strong, and courageous. While Katniss was all of these, she could not help her heart. She was far too much like her mother than she cared to admit.

It was love that had brought her to Metaphor today and it was love that would keep him near now. She sighed softly as she relished this tender moment. But there was something lingering in the back of her mind, a regret that she had ever since the night Metaphor was ripped away from her. Stepping back form him, she let her eyes rest softly on his as she spoke, almost meekly. “I never told you something…back in Elysian. I have hated myself every day for never telling you.” She was quiet for a moment, her mind forming together the words that she could never tell him. While her actions had spoke of her love for him, her words had never confirmed it. “…I love you, Metaphor.” She offers him a tender smile, hoping that he accepts her words. While she knows he will, she needs to hear it from. For long she’s regretted never telling him her true feelings but now seemed as good a time as any. She didn’t want to wait and miss the opportunity again. Second chances only came around once.

@Metaphor

She doesn’t understand why she feels so nervous around Metaphor, why she feels as though he might not accept her profession of love. Perhaps it was silly, perhaps she was making a mountain out of a molehill. However, it was how she felt. So in those moments after her progression of love, Katniss looks to Metaphor in hopes that he does not turn away. She knows he won’t, but she cannot help the fear that tells her he might. This was why she was told never to love. This was the weakness her mother was trying to prevent.

It was when he steps forward, brushing a strand of her main from her forehead that she realizes he’s not going anywhere. And when he speaks, she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She listens to his words and cannot help but wonder how he knew. She had never told him before, never voiced the feelings that she had felt for so long. “How did you know?” She wonders aloud, curious as to how he knew her feelings if she did not voice them. It was probably in the way she looked at him, the way she spent nearly every waking moment with him, or the way she opened up about her daughters. Her twins were a secret that she had harbored for years. Only Metaphor knows of their existence.

His second question pulls her thoughts away and she looks out over Novus. While she hadn’t been here per say, it was still part of the land she now called home. “This is the world of Novus…you may find that you recognize some of the people here. Several have been brought here from The Rift.” She pauses a moment as she thinks about what he’s saying. He will follow her anywhere. Would he follow her to Denocte? “There are four courts here. I am a soldier of Denocte, the Night Court.” She pauses a moment before continuing. “I am no queen here.” She misses being able to be a safe haven for all those that needed it. While she was not the perfect queen, it was a huge part of who she was. Now, she was a nobody - starting from scratch to make something of herself here. “Isra is the queen of The Night Court.” She had no plans to take a throne for herself. While she was a warrior, she only fought because she has to, not because she can. Perhaps that is what set her apart from other soldiers. Perhaps that’s what made her different.

@Metaphor

When he begins to laugh, she is unsure. She did not think that her love was worth laughing about. Perhaps she had said something wrong in her question? Was she not supposed to ask how he knew she loved him before even she truly knew. Perhaps if she had listened to her feelings instead of trying to fight them, maybe she would have realized that she loved Metaphor sooner and she might have told him before they were ripped apart. But all of that was in the past and all she could do now was tell him her feelings. But now she felt insecure…until he started talking.

She listened to him speak and she supposed he was right. She had felt so much at home when he was around. He had made things easier for her. He knew more about her than she probably knew about herself. Was that love? “I suppose you’re right.” She hadn’t even realized that she loved him when she did all those things. It took her so long to finally understand. “For so long I told myself love was weakness…that it would never bring my girls to me…that it would never win me a war.” For so long she had shut off all feelings (at least she told herself that she did). It made her think that she was a better warrior, a better protector of Elysian. In reality, it was her love for Metaphor that made Elysian home. “…but when I was stripped away from you…that’s when I realized I loved you. I immediately regret being too stupid to not have known and never telling you.” She regretted two things in life: never telling Metaphor that she loved him and abandoning her daughters. While she now had Metaphor, she would never have her daughters back. She didn’t even know if they were alive.

As Katniss begins to lead him towards Denocte, she tells him about Novus, about the Night Court, and about Isra. His question has her nodding her head softly. “I believe she will. She accepted my help without question.” While Isra was still a mystery to her, she was beginning to understand more about the queen. Denocte was not like Elysian, but it was home for now.

She tells him that she has pledged herself a soldier of Denocte. Fighting was all she knew so it was only natural that she fell into that same role here. His question has her shaking her head softly. “Not in physical combat…” Her voice trails off slightly as she tries to sum up the last few months in just a few short sentences. “I had to protect from the Gods. They are not as kind and forgiving as Gods should be.” She thinks about the lightning storm, about the thunder birds, and about how Caligo left them without any sort of direction. “But the sun has risen on a new day. Anything is possible.” She supposed that in time, alliances would shift and she would truly be needed to fight. Until then, she would relish the peace.

As they walked, Katniss moved closer to him, making sure her shoulder brushed against his own. As much as she might not realize it now, the key to righting her wrong with her daughters would be to welcome a new child - a child that would be welcomed and never forgotten, a child would know the love of his or her mother (and father). Katniss does not yet realize that she has this desire. But when the flowers begin to bloom in the springtime, her love for Metaphor was sure to blossom into something more.

As they head father south, farther away from the plains and toward the mountain pass that leads to Denocte, Katniss looks back at Metaphor. “Isra wants to promote me, as soon as I have spared. She wants to see my talent.” She pauses a moment. “That spar is coming up with a stallion of the Dusk Court - his name is Asterion.” If Katniss was being truthful with herself, she might come to realize that she was infatuated with Asterion. And if Metaphor had not come back, perhaps she might have moved on and found comfort with the Dusk king. He was a pleasant stallion, friendly and easy to talk to. They were similar, Asterion and she.

@Metaphor