Katniss wished she could tell him that his father only said those words because he was hurting and angry, that he probably didn’t really mean them. But nothing she said would make him listen. He would have to work through those demons on his own. She had walked down a similar path and she was never able to come to terms with the abandonment of her daughters until she was emotionally ready. He might not be ready to forgive himself today, tomorrow, days, weeks, months, or years from now. But he would find peace when he was most ready for it, and not a moment sooner.
Katniss proceeds to tell him about her daughters, a story that only one other has heard before. While she has come to terms with the events of that day, she still regrets them. She’s not entirely certain that she will every recover from them completely, not until she has answers. She needs to know whether or not her daughters or alive…or where they are buried. However, those sort of answers only come from omniscient gods - something she has yet to discover. So until that day comes, if it ever comes, she will continue to hold onto her regret as use it as a learning tool. If she was ever given the chance at motherhood again, she would not waste it.
Even as the tears collect in the corner of her eyes, she tries so hard not to shed them. She is a warrior - a leader of battle. Warriors did not cry. They did not show weakness. And here she was, opening her heart to another so plainly. Normally she was quite reserved about this particular topic, so who really knows just why she was sharing this information.
She does not miss the way he stands a little taller, perhaps with new instilled confidence, perhaps just to wipe away the years that beg to fall. But his words, though she knows they are meant to comforting, only offer a sting of things she doesn’t necessarily want to feel. “There is no excuse for a mother to abandon her daughters as I did.” He speaks again and her eyes settle on his. She smiles softly at him, at his genuine attempt to make her feel a little better. “I can only hope that when I see them again, in this life or in another, that they will forgive him for wronging them.” She doesn’t need them to be proud of the woman she has become, she just wants to know that they forgive her. She has seen the wrong she has done to them and beats herself every day because of it. Perhaps they will see that in their hearts and welcome their mother back into their lives.
Eyes slowly turn back towards the path. She feels vulnerable and exposed. She feels as though she wants to lean on Metaphor for comfort. It’s only him that can bring her such peace. He would be proud of her, she thinks, for being so open in order to help another. The wound was being cleaned and bandaged, a process that needed to happen over and over again for proper healing. She was healing, a little bit at a time. She could only hope that this was healing for Anzhelo too.
She continues down the path in relative silence, before she can start to see the fires of Denocte lighting the way home. She looks to Anzhelo and offers him a tender smile. “You will find many friends here in Denocte. Friends to talk to or shoulders to cry own. You are always welcome to my small, humble home or anything.” It is an open invitation. He is always welcome to her doormat if he needs a meal or a talk. She will always be there for him, even if he has not realized it yet. @Anzhelo
