There was something about the beauty of the lake that drew her here time and time again. The way the moonlight reflected off the calm waters called to her. Perhaps it was the kelpie living within her that found solace in the beauty of the lake. Perhaps it is what calls her here on this particular evening.
With so much that has happened, it has offered Katniss a moment to think and reflect, to try and decide what life had in store for her. She had come to Novus to be the defender of Denocte and yet, she found herself troubled. She was missing something in her life, a something that was a mystery to her until she found Metaphor.
Her life with the sorrel stallion was nothing short of perfect. Their meeting here was chance, but Katniss wanted to hope it was her love that drew him here. She wanted to believe that all that longing and yearning had carried him here when The Rift had pulled them apart. Their love story was nothing short of fate and beauty, it was something that should be cherished and cultivated. Such a love was hard to find, especially for someone like Katniss who was a plain, ordinary soldier just hoping to make her mark on the battlefield. But she had found love unexpectedly and even though she had tried not to feel the pull of love, it had pulled her and held her captive against her wishes. It was time that she surrendered herself to love.
Eyes look to the sky, the harpy eagle souring high above her. She smiles at him, her eyes soft and her heart full. Never had she imagined that a bird would be her companion in battle, the one true friend that she could rely so heavily on. “Finnick, find Isra and ask her to come to me. I have an important request of her.” She does not demand the attention of her queen, only asks it of her. If she was going to surrender herself to the feelings that were swelling within her chest, she needed the approval of her queen.
As she watches Finnick head on his mission, Katniss takes to the lake. Her steps are slow and deliberate, her body slipping into the water without making even a single ripple. And as the water begins to overtake her, she can feel her new magic taking hold. The way it courses through her veins is new and exciting and she cannot wait to see what it can do. As she descends into the abyss, she changes the cells of her lungs and skin, sprouting functional gills. She misses being able to breathe beneath the water, so perhaps this was just what she needed. And as the water rushes over her gills, she can feel the oxygen flow through her. It makes her feel alive. And as she waits for Isra, she stays beneath the surface of the water, enjoying the moment of absolute peace and solitude.
Isra is laying beneath Fable's wing when the eagle finds her. There is a story on her lips of brave children, lion and dragons making the air between the dragon and the unicorn heavy with wonder. The meadow beneath them is plush with daisies and a shine that danced in the sunlight like nothing in this world should. Silver-dust is sweet on her tongue when the breeze carries it away instead of pollen. Isra almost wonders what strange flowers will bloom from those hard, metal seeds before reality falls heavy again on her thoughts.
But there are two small stars in her that kick and lurch for the magic to come back. Fable drops his nose to gently press against her belly. The lurching stops and Isra sighs, content even as the story fades away to nothing in the wind.
Finnick dives down close by Isra instantly snaps to attention, her heavy body still remembers all the ways it learned how to be hard and battle-ready. Almost without thought she's moving through the silver dusted petals and thick grass towards the bird of prey lopping overhead in lazy, graceful circles. Her steps quicken as the bird starts to fly towards the lake and Fable moves slowly enough not to pass her as he follows.
And if the ground shakes beneath his steps Isra tries not to think about it. Instead she turns each crushed petal in their wake into a stalk of wheat fat with seed. Those stars in her lurch against the magic and she wonders if she's changing them a little too.
When she finally makes it to the lake she only stares at the glass-still surface of it. Below, Fable adds when he spots a darkness moving beneath the water. Isra smiles and when she wades belly deep into the water the entire bottom of the lake turns to gemstone and sand instead of dead-leaves and algae.
She does not think Katniss will wonder who has found her for long, even if her eagle ruined the surprise.
Beneath the surface she is at peace. It had been too long since she had been able to feel the currents against her skin, the way the seaweed brushed against her legs. The sounds from beneath the waves were so very different than the sounds that saturated her senses when she was above the tide. While she was beneath the surface, she blocked out all sounds, all thoughts, all doubts. She was able to completely lose herself down here, something she had been unable to do for some time. Her magic was new and challenging to learn, but she loved knowing that she could once more be below the surface.
She moves amongst the fish and eels, the wildlife scattering as she steps forward. They do not yet know that she means them no harm, that she is here to protect them just as they are here to provide her company. She can feel the tug of her eagle, beckoning her to the surface. His shrill cry from his position in the air does not go unnoticed, only ignored. This moment here is too soft, too precious for her to leave.
She can feel the way the water ripples as Isra slips into it. The vibration of each step she takes is felt, but only ignored. She will take another moment for herself. She will enjoy this sense of freedom while she can, for it is something she may not get a chance to do that often.
It is only when the lake bed that she walks on turns to white sand and gemstones, does she realize and accept that she is not truly alone in this place of solace. Slowly, she turns towards where Isra stands and slowly begins to make her way to the shore. Her body breaks through the quiet, still surface and she looks like an angel descending from heaven. Water drips off her body, drip…drip…drip. As air begins to fill her lungs, she feels her magic fade away, the gills seem to vanish before Isra’s very eyes. As her cells return to their normal function, her lugs welcome the fresh, crisp spring air.
And as her eyes rest on Isra, she smiles for she knows that her queen has heard Finnick’s call. Steps bring her to a respectable distance, her head dipping lightly in greeting towards her queen. “Thank you, Isra, for coming.” Her vocals are soft, her eyes even softer. There’s something different about Katniss. She might look the same as she always had, but there is an aura about her that is far different than Isra has seen before.
She heaves a heavy sigh. “You are not the only one who has learned new magic.” There is a lightness to her voice in the way she speaks so fondly of her new magic. But that was not the reason she has asked Isra here today. Today, she has a story of her own for the storyteller. “Isra, I wish to tell you a story.” The lightness of her voice has changed slightly. Now, it is filled with determination and strength, a tone that Isra knows. Hopefully her queen will allow her to be the storyteller today.
It takes her a moment to decide what is different about her friend. At first all she can see the the sparkle of water and sunlight refracted by gemstone littering all that dark skin with glitz and wonder. There are shapes there that remind her of teeth (and stars, and the moon on a endless summer night). Isra smiles for the sight of it. All the magic and the world and it's still only things on a canvas of black that strike a flame in her chest.
When she finally spots the change, it brings a sparkle to her eyes. It feels like Katniss has just discovered a secret she's been waiting forever to share. Gills change to smooth skin in no more time than a breath and Isra wonders what magic Katniss has to make such a thing possible. There's a mystery there she is already looking forward to learning.
Fable is already thinking how great it will be to have a friend deep in the water that knows him for more than another monster of the sea.
“I will always come whenever you ask it of me.” Isra offers. She is made more for these secret moments between friends than for laws and politics. Here is home. “Any story you have to tell is one I want to hear.”
Fable, well used to the ways of mares and their stories, settles down into the tall spring grass. He curls his tail, lifts a wing, and waits for his unicorn to claim her story-telling throne of scale and grass. “Rest with me, and I will listen.” Isra pulls ways with a little laugh and lays down against her dragon. Each blade of grass turns to a flower until it's a garden of primrose, daisy and oleander spreading out around them.
And as she waits Isra tries to not to think of all the things besides flowers that are grown in gardens, and in love.
Katniss knows that Isra will always come to her, to listen to her stories and her plights. She knows she can entrust any secrets to be locked away with her, never to be told to another soul. But today, today she wants to tell Isra a story of love and duty, of the push and pull it makes. She has a feeling Isra might know of this conundrum, that constant battle between duty and love. It was a terrible thing to be caught in the middle of, especially for Katniss, someone who was bred and raised for war.
As Fable welcomes the two of them back on shore, Katniss follows her queen and takes a spot just in front of the pair. She watches for a moment, watching how Fable sits protecting his friend. It a beautiful thing and it reminds her of how she would set with Metaphor up in the mountain valley surrounded by flowers and the other sounds of spring.
But even in the beauty of this moment, she knows that she has called Isra here for a reason. It may seem silly to some, but it is important to her. She sighs softly, allowing her body to relax and release all the tension it has been holding. “My parents were never soldiers, they were beacons of peace and hope. But their king needed warriors to protect them, and so they made a mutual decision to conceive me. They did not love each other, but they knew that this was a way for them to serve their king.” Finnick, having perched himself in a tree across the lake, now flies towards them. He has watched his mistress come from her time in the lake come to rest alongside Isra and Fable. When he joins the trio, he perches in a tree just above them, his eyes resting softly on them as he listens.
Katniss pauses to smile at her bonded, to let him know that she intends on going no where until she tells the story she needs to tell. Eyes pull back to Isra and she continues. “For years I trained hard, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I was trained to love no one for war did nothing but pull lovers apart. I dedicated my life to my king. Eventually, I gave myself to my own kingdom, protecting them as a queen should. But I never allowed myself to love.” She pauses momentarily, to think about what sort of story she wanted to tell. She could tell one of darkness and doubt, or one of hope and love. It was interesting that both could be shared within the same story. “I have made many mistakes in my life, mistakes that I regret completely.” The abandonment of her daughters is the first thing that comes to mind. She will never forget the daughters she cast out. There’s not a day that goes by that she wonders if they are even still alive. Surely they did not survive without their mother.
Her chest heaves a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world rested upon her shoulders. “…but then I met Metaphor and everything changed. He made me see things and feel things that I had never entertained before.” Her heart flutters in her chest at the thought of the sorrel stallion. The things that stallion caused her body to do was exciting and scary at the same time. She had never felt this way about anything ever before. “He brings out the best of me and pushes me to be stronger, to be better than I was before. He has taught me to love.” Love was something she had been forbidden to partake in. She had put up walls to protect herself from what she was told would only be weakness. But what she was finding was that it was her love for Metaphor that made her stronger.
Her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she reflects quietly on Metaphor, listening to how her heart beats faster, encouraging her to continue on. “But now I find myself torn between duty and love. I have a duty to protect Denocte with my everything…and yet, I cannot help but want to give Metaphor my all.” She wanted to give herself completely to him, to become his mate and live oh so happily with him for the rest of their days. “Isra, I want your blessing…” Her voice fades off for only the briefest of moments as she raises her gaze to meet hers. “…I want your blessing to be both your champion…and to follow my heart.” It may seem silly to ask her queen for permission to love, but it meant a lot to Katniss. She had been raised to think love would always be out of reach. And yet, Metaphor had shown her that it was there for the picking. But even though she knew that she had every right to love Metaphor, she wanted to know her queen would bless their union, that she would not think poorly of her champion wanting to do something for herself for once.
All of Isra's magic is quiet as Katniss gives her story. There is only the gentle whisper of the petals against their legs, and the hum of Fable's breathing keeping pace to her heartbeat, to break up the weight of the story. Somehow that seems fitting, as if the entire world has gathered up its breath to hear this tale.
Isra thinks it sounds like a heart breaking. And then she thinks each word sounds like a bit of thread pulling two strips of silk together. It is the loveliest sound she has ever heard. Her heart blooms with the sound of it, and each flower around them starts to shed seeds of gold when all their pollen turns to glitz. Even that feels right, the way the meadow and the lake are changing to fit these words of love , and everything, and blessing. Fable's scales are rippling behind her like a sea caught in some promise of shape and life (and that seems right too).
A smile tilts her lips up, up, up and the two foals eager to meet their city kick against all the fire blooming sweetly in their mother. Isra reaches up to brush her smile against Katniss's skin. Her ears are still full of the ringing sound of a stitched together heart when she starts to speak. “Nothing would make me happier than to know it's your heart leading the way through life.” Beneath her skin that heart that keeps singing, Eik, Eik, Eik aches a little with all the joy of the story still hanging heavy on the flowers dripping gold.
Fable drops his head down between the mares and the hum on his tongue seems to be saying that he approves of this too. It was love that brought his egg up from the sea, and love that turned him into a dragon that waters the earth instead of burning it. How could it be anything but love that turns a dragon into something other than a monster? He tries to smile and it's as terrifying as it is sweet. Isra laughs and a rose turns to a poppy.
“You will always have my blessing to love, just as you will always be my Champion.” There is a secret dancing in her eyes, one she's already discovered in the dark with sand between her teeth. It makes her shine in a way that has nothing to do with magic, or a crown, or even rage. “Someday,” Isra says in a way that teases out the word after but never gives sound to the syllables of it. “I will have to meet him.”Because Isra knows that the secret in her eyes, that makes her shine, is one that only Katniss and Metaphor will share.
But someday-- someday they will tell their children of it beneath the watchful eyes a dragon and an eagle. Love always takes seed, always.
Katniss waits, almost impatiently, as she finishes her story and awaits her queen’s response. She does not know of the love she feels for Eik, of the twins growing within her womb, or of her answer regarding Katniss’ request. For some her request might seem unnecessary and strange, but for Katniss, it means so much more than just empty words on Isra’s lips. Isra’s allowance for Katniss to follow her heart will be the catalyst that propels Katniss forward on a journey of love, a journey that she never thought she would be able to partake in. It will be the one thing that draws her not only closer to Metaphor, but to herself. She will learn things about herself that she never thought she would learn and she would one day understand a little more about the world she lives in.
And then Isra parts her lips and the words that fall from them are sweeter than honey. It draws a soft smile to her lips, pulling at the corners and making her use muscles she had not used in ages. She was so happy that Isra would allow her to give herself completely to Metaphor. In this moment, Katniss has no idea just how important those words are. One day she will understand, but for now she can only smile. “I am slowly learning that sometimes, the way of the heart is not always the path that leads to distraction and devastation. Sometimes, it makes us stronger.” Little does Katniss know just how strong her love for Metaphor will make her.
In this moment, it is as if there is a weight that has lifted off Katniss’ shoulders. She heaves a sigh of relief and she cannot help but simple feel free. Isra continues on, telling her that she will always have her blessing to love just as she will always be her champion. She cannot help the way her lips spread into a soft smile, how her heart beats faster at the thought of Metaphor.
Slowly Katniss rises to her feet, shaking off the water and sand. She looks down at Isra and Fable, locked in a loving embrace that only they understand. At Isra’s words, Katniss nods ever so softly. “Someday…I hope you will.” It is in this moment that Katniss does not realize just how soon Isra will meet Metaphor. She does not realize that by the time the sun sets in three days time, Isra will not only meet Metaphor, but see a side of Katniss that she had never shown anyone.
She offers one more soft smile to the pair before she turns and heads back towards the little home that she shares with Metaphor and Finnick. She heads home so she can surprise metaphor and give him her everything.
Isra does not tell her friend that love is the way to everything. Her only answer now is a smile, soft and knowing, over all that ferocity she has learned through love. It's taught her how to be a monster, how to make violence out of suffering, how love can be bolder than anything with tooth, claw and wing. Love has taught Isra to be a conqueror.
She wonders what love still has to make out of Katniss.
When her friend turns to go Isra makes no move to follow, or to head back toward the capital. Her tangled twins kick again and her magic ripples like a wave beneath them. For once the silence, broken up only by the cry of a hawk and the answering fury of a mother songbird, feels like the end of a storm (instead of the eye of it). Isra lets her magic loose and the whippoorwills turn to golden towers of wheat. The mice come out from the shade to nibble on the falling seeds of it.
Tell me a story about the lions. Fable says as he tucks his head into the grass. His eyes swirl like a shallow tide and Isra can see patterns only she understands in the algae floating there.
“Of course.” She replies as she lays her head against his shoulder. She inhales, just once, like the pause of a breeze right before it starts to howl through the mountain pass. And when she beings it's the same way all her stories begin. “Once there was a lion--” A pause. “and he was so very lonely.”
The story goes on to sunset and all the mice eating the wheat are sleeping in the tangle of grass by the time she finishes.
