There is a peace that comes with the stillness as he stands with his lover, heart to heart, his head against the warmth of her nape. If he could, Metaphor would stay here with her forever, drowning in her scent and basking in the glow of their love. Here by her side, he could almost forget all that had come to pass… but reality had a way of fighting its way through the peace, shattering all illusions of serenity. Still, he didn’t have to face the future alone – neither of them did. Together, they would be stronger… both together as a couple, and together as a nation. Duty had a way of drawing the best out of people, and Metaphor would be no exception, when Isra came to call. When she mentions that Finnick is well, he cannot help but smile, glad to have brought a sense of peace to the bird with the broken wing. Seeing the falcon fly once more would be such a delight, for he too knew the power of freedom, and felt a sense of pride in helping Katniss’ companion gain flight and independence once again. As a quiet stillness falls between them, Metaphors’s brow creases in worry – but just as quickly as he had allowed himself to think the worst, a smile replaces the sensation. How wonderful! Isra must think very highly of you to grant such an honor. He echoed the sentiment with a nudge of reassurance, his smile soft and genuine as his warm chocolate eyes find hers. You seem worried… I know you’re up for the task. He does not mention Raum, nor the building resistance in the Day Court. They didn’t need any more mention, for the implication of his horrific acts hung like a dark cloud of Denocte these days – and everyone was speaking his name with a whisper of fear and trepidation. Still, if anyone was up for the job, he knew that Katniss would rise to the occasion – that she would be the one to lead Denocte’s army to victory against the resistance. I will fight beside you – for you… and for Denocte – if you should ask it of me.
medic of the night court
