what happens to a dream deferred?
There is a hardness in Kas that was not there before. It forms at the edge of her width and her height, forming angles and sharp corners. Her patience, once an endless river, dries like water in the harsh sun. Her tongue is loose and envenomed. She snaps when bothers and snaps at things that aren’t there. Her body is a lash and she attacks at the slightest provocations of thoughts in her head-- dark ones, harsh ones, scalding ones. A heated juxtaposition to how she has been for so long. A lifetime of cruelty and side-eyes and forced distance had not worked to harden her and now, surrounded by some semblance of found family, with friends, a home, and a free life, now she had chosen to give herself edges.
Being raised in a silver cage and having access only to what others want you to know leaves one unprepared for the wide world at large, and, once upon a time, that had not mattered. Kas had been a cup brimming with questions that could not overflow even when topped up with answers. Now her cup was cracked and brittle, questions hurt, and gaps in her knowledge made her wince and feel insecure. She began to sweat, sitting across from Katniss, and feel like a silly little fool, some soft milkchild all wrapped in tattered blue silk. She wanted to apologize just for being, for breathing. Worst of all, she did not know where this writing sense of inferiority was coming from.
Katniss radiated warmth and a light, like a sunlit arrow flying true and constant, a projectile that was always on target. Kassandra was slightly unsteady on her feet, heavy with her words, and had to talk her panicked mind down from the ledge. There was no trap to walk into here. The Champion of Battle denies her apology and bids her eat.
Kassandra prepares a slice of thick bread and jam for Oculos and passes it to him. He takes his time to lick the preserves from the loaf slowly, savoring the sweetness, before he starts worrying on the crust. Kas, nauseated and ravenous at the same time, nibbles on a sweet summer apple. “Thank you, Champion,” she whispers, finding her voice somewhere, like stumbling over the fading embers of a dying fire.
The wizened champion gently admonishes Kas for her praise, professing she is only doing what is right, and what should be done. “Still.” Kas ponders, tonguing sour fruit in her cheek. “Still. At such a grand crossroads, there are many directions to go. I know you feel you should not be thanked for staying your path, but it is a comfort all the same.”
I did not call this meeting to talk about myself, and Kassandra’s heart turned to ice and, heavy and sharp, plummeted through her body. She listened, hardly able to breathe. I noticed you seemed a little off, not really like yourself. Kassandra laughed before she could swallow it, a high, reedy, nasally giggle that bordered on a snort. Oculos raised an eyebrow at her.
I won’t pretend I know why, nor will I ask you to share. “I am glad of this, because, in truth, I don’t know why myself.” Silver eyes gaze down at their meager but filling feast, head dipped in shame. She hadn’t meant for her darkness to be a burden on anyone else. “Ever since C-- the coronation,” she changes the words because Caligo’s name is fire on her tongue, “I’ve not… been able to settle.” She met Katniss’ gaze with irises that shivered, uncertain. She did not want to speak blasphemies though she wanted greatly to blaspheme.
The moment of insecurity passed. Kassandra nailed her courage to the sticking place and picked up her head, averting her eyes and forcing bravado back into her voice as she busied herself with bread and jam. “I just haven’t been sleeping well, is all.” A bite, a gentle smile, and a swallow. “I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t trouble yourself with my troubled sleep.”
Oculos sat down and exhaled a tense breath, resting his head on his long front limbs with the quietest of whines.
Being raised in a silver cage and having access only to what others want you to know leaves one unprepared for the wide world at large, and, once upon a time, that had not mattered. Kas had been a cup brimming with questions that could not overflow even when topped up with answers. Now her cup was cracked and brittle, questions hurt, and gaps in her knowledge made her wince and feel insecure. She began to sweat, sitting across from Katniss, and feel like a silly little fool, some soft milkchild all wrapped in tattered blue silk. She wanted to apologize just for being, for breathing. Worst of all, she did not know where this writing sense of inferiority was coming from.
Katniss radiated warmth and a light, like a sunlit arrow flying true and constant, a projectile that was always on target. Kassandra was slightly unsteady on her feet, heavy with her words, and had to talk her panicked mind down from the ledge. There was no trap to walk into here. The Champion of Battle denies her apology and bids her eat.
Kassandra prepares a slice of thick bread and jam for Oculos and passes it to him. He takes his time to lick the preserves from the loaf slowly, savoring the sweetness, before he starts worrying on the crust. Kas, nauseated and ravenous at the same time, nibbles on a sweet summer apple. “Thank you, Champion,” she whispers, finding her voice somewhere, like stumbling over the fading embers of a dying fire.
The wizened champion gently admonishes Kas for her praise, professing she is only doing what is right, and what should be done. “Still.” Kas ponders, tonguing sour fruit in her cheek. “Still. At such a grand crossroads, there are many directions to go. I know you feel you should not be thanked for staying your path, but it is a comfort all the same.”
I did not call this meeting to talk about myself, and Kassandra’s heart turned to ice and, heavy and sharp, plummeted through her body. She listened, hardly able to breathe. I noticed you seemed a little off, not really like yourself. Kassandra laughed before she could swallow it, a high, reedy, nasally giggle that bordered on a snort. Oculos raised an eyebrow at her.
I won’t pretend I know why, nor will I ask you to share. “I am glad of this, because, in truth, I don’t know why myself.” Silver eyes gaze down at their meager but filling feast, head dipped in shame. She hadn’t meant for her darkness to be a burden on anyone else. “Ever since C-- the coronation,” she changes the words because Caligo’s name is fire on her tongue, “I’ve not… been able to settle.” She met Katniss’ gaze with irises that shivered, uncertain. She did not want to speak blasphemies though she wanted greatly to blaspheme.
The moment of insecurity passed. Kassandra nailed her courage to the sticking place and picked up her head, averting her eyes and forcing bravado back into her voice as she busied herself with bread and jam. “I just haven’t been sleeping well, is all.” A bite, a gentle smile, and a swallow. “I appreciate your concern, but you needn’t trouble yourself with my troubled sleep.”
Oculos sat down and exhaled a tense breath, resting his head on his long front limbs with the quietest of whines.
@
"Speech."
