Isra was gone and Katniss had never felt more alone. She had no friends here, something she was quickly realizing. Isra and Eik had always been there for her and before them, it had been Metaphor. They were all gone and she was still here, picking up the pieces of her broken heart and not even bothering to put the pieces back together again. Kibou, bless his soul, was trying his best to make his mother happy, but the colt just didn’t know how. He hated seeing his mother so depressed and he usually prayed to the gods that someone would come along that would once again make her smile. It didn’t have to be a lover, he would be happy if it were only a friend. Katniss had heard his prayers and she had wished she could tell him that things were not that easy. Katniss didn’t really believe in magic or miracles like that. But she said nothing, wanting his hopes and dreams to keep him smiling. After all, someone needed to.
But today, Katniss decided that her time for mourning had come and gone. It was time to reintegrate amongst the herd. She still did her duties as Champion, but that was really it. Today she made a promise to at least try to be more visible. The people needed to see that she was strong when they couldn’t be.
And so, Katniss came down from her mountainside cottage and began to meander the streets. Despite the void of darkness her heart felt like, she displayed herself with erect posture. She kept her neck arched, her eyes forward, her ears alert. She looked strong and ready. She looked put together. But there was no one left who knew that she was really about to crumble.
As she meandered her way through town, she paused at the base of the citadel. This was the place where she had built the pyre for Metaphor. This was where she had said her final goodbyes. Every time she came by this place, she placed a bouquet of flowers. There was no gravestone to place them on, so Katniss simply laid them in the street. People would not remember that night, not like she had. Pulling the flowers from her satchel, she laid them on the cobblestone walkway, sighing as she looked down at them. It was then that she offered Metaphor a moment of silence. “He’s got your heart, Metaphor…you would be proud of him.” Her voice was nothing louder than the smallest of whispers. The words were not meant for anyone else but herself. But behind her, a steady clip clop of hooves caught her attention. Slowly she craned her head to the side to see the paint. Morrighan. An individual she knew by sight and reputation, but never had met the woman. She dipped her head in greeting. Nothing to see here.
There has been a lot on her mind lately. Between losing herself at a Shed-Star ritual with Al'Zahra, to being left with responsibilities while Antiope traveled to the Courts, she feels like her head is spinning. Her heart is a completely different story, but she doesn't want to get into that today. Instead, she tries to stuff it all away again, like she seems to be good at doing. It can be left to deal with on another day at another time. There are more important matters at hand.
Morrighan is set to patrol the streets again in her Warden fashion to make sure nothing suspicious is happening. So far it's been quiet, but that in itself makes her a tad suspicious. There's always something going on. It's like a taste in the air, but she can't see what's happening yet. She will though, she usually does.
For now, it seems she will be left with nothing. Although, she recognizes Katniss among the others walking through the streets. She is one of the Court Champions, but her and Morrighan have never formally met. The most she knows about her besides her rank is that her mate died during Raum's reign. She isn't sure if it had been his doing, but there had been an explosion that killed her mate. Now that she's found love (in some form, even if it isn't perfect), she can somewhat understand, but can't imagine what it would be like losing someone that meant a lot.
Katniss dips her head and Morrighan does the same. "Katniss," she says in greeting. It doesn't take long for her to notice that the woman has placed flowers down onto the ground before the citadel.
"Leaving a gift?" she asks, her brows showing her confusion. In a way, this reminds her of the fall festival with all the altars. Everyone had been placing flowers and other trinkets by each horse's name, but that had made a little more sense. Here, there is nothing but the dirt and the stone pathway of the street. It doesn't seem like much of an official memorial.
It is no secret that Katniss has been slacking in her duties since that night that she sent off her lover on a pyre. When something so precious is taken from you, it’s hard to breathe let alone live. Katniss had fallen into a deep depression and only just recently was she beginning to see light. It was like she had been walking down a long, dark tunnel and only just recently has there been a sliver of light to guide her through. She was slowly pulling herself out of the trenches if not for herself, then for Kibou. The boy she had birthed exactly 340 days since her lover had died was now a year old. The colt was still a boy but no longer did he simply need her for nutrients. Now, the child needed her for guidance. She had to show him what it meant to be strong and brave. She had to be both parents and that was a job she was unprepared for.
Not only this, but Katniss had promised Isra that she would protect Night Court in her absence. What that entailed she was unsure of, but she had promised that she would look after the cout and she would look after Aspara, guiding her as a mother should. Aspara did not need another mother, but there may come a time when she needed someone to act as a mother, to offer her guidance and support. Then again, she was Isra’s daughter. The child was practically born and adult.
The greeting exchanged between Katniss and Morrighan was formal and stiff. It did not flow as easily as her greetings with Isra or Asterion. But regardless, Katniss offered the mare a smile. She does not miss the way Morrighan’s eyes fall on the flowers that she has placed on the cobblestone streets. And at her question, Katniss sighs, all the heaviness of her emotions present. “I leave flowers at his grave site every time I come through.” She does not feel the need to expand on her answer. Either Morrighan knows (after a hint) that this is where she finally said goodbye, or she just thought Katniss to be a fool. It didn’t bother Katniss either way which she thought. Then again, she supposed it was only her business that she knew why she was placing flowers in this very spot.
But there is no time for dwelling on such sad things. Sadness has consumed Katniss for far too long. It is time now to think of happier thoughts. To think of how well Kibou is starting to grow and mature, to think of how this court was flourishing, and to think of how many new faces Katniss is beginning to learn. “Denocte has been quite, wouldn’t you agree?” Her patrols were lacking in adventure since the night of the explosion. Perhaps it was a good thing. But more cynically, perhaps it was an indication that this was the calm before the storm. Was Denocte prepared?
A sigh escapes Katniss as she explains that this is a grave. It still doesn’t do much to clear Morrighan’s confusion. Back in Ourania, they didn’t have gravesites at all. Now that she’s spent time here in Novus, she’s come to understand what they are. Usually there’s a clear marker of some kind and there are decorations much like the flowers here. They just didn’t get placed in the middle of the street like this. They were off in a secluded area, somewhere that made more sense than the crowded road.
Morrighan blinks. "Odd place for a grave," is all she replies with. It’s clear this spot is significant in some way, but she thinks she would want somewhere more private for a loved one. Somewhere she could collect her thoughts properly and not have to deal with others walking by, or looking at her, or speaking with her. Kind of like what she’s doing right now to Katniss. All of that could be avoided.
Then the woman makes a remark about how quiet Denocte has been. The Warden nods in agreement, thinking back on how much different things were a couple seasons ago. Personally, she’s thankful the chaos has settled, but she’ll never stop patrolling with a watchful eye. Quiet doesn’t necessarily mean that all is well. It could easily mean that those who mean trouble are just better at keeping in the shadows until they’re ready to strike.
But in other ways it’s quiet without many of their members here. Not just Antiope, but Isra, Eik and the rest that joined them at sea. For the most part, she’s come to terms with it, but there will always be a part of her that feels bitter.
"It’s strange with Isra gone, that’s for sure," she says, remembering the Court’s farewell to the group along the shore. Morrighan isn’t very sentimental, but even she got torn up after that. Now that they’ve moved forward and she has her sights on Regent, she doesn’t want to dwell on it all too much. Isra promised she’d be back and Morr trusts her.
"But we have to remain vigilant. Who knows what could be out there for us next," she adds, her eyes sparking with determination. She will do everything she can to protect this Court. She owed that to Isra, at the least.
