Dawn. It is a time of morning that Katniss enjoys more than anything. Each morning, she begins her day with a patrol of the boarders, watching as the sun finally blankets Denocte in light. There’s something calming and soothing about watching the sun peak up over the peaks of the mountains and reflect off the water in the lake. It’s soothing to watch the court finally come alive. Katniss has always enjoyed being one of the first to greet the new day and she doesn’t think that will ever change.
But on this particular morning, after her patrols are completed, she makes her way into the citadel. She needs to speak with her new Sovereign. She has so many ideas that no one else seems to take to heart. The soldier knows Denocte needs protection and she wants so badly to offer that. Her hope and dream has always been to be a leader for Denocte. Maybe not as their sovereign, but certainly as their Champion of Battle. She wants to prepare Denocte should anything come array. She can remember when the food stores were sent ablaze. There had been no militia, no soldiers to protect the citizens or their food. It had been chaos and Katniss wants nothing more than to change that.
However, Katniss realizes that before she can go to her new king for his blessing on the matter, she needs to greet him as an individual. He needs to see that she is honest and true, that she is a good citizen of Denocte. How can she expect him to trust her on these matters if he does not know her? And in the same breath, how can she trust him if she doesn’t really know who he is?
And so, this beautiful dawn, Katniss heads towards the citadel where she might have an audience with Ira. She listens to the steady clip clop of her feet against cobblestone streets and it brings her comfort. As she comes to the entrance, she looks to her left, a spot of soot and burned stone that serve as a constant reminder of her loss. It is the place where she sent Metaphor to live amongst the stars. She cannot stand there long and stare, for it will no doubt bring tears to her eyes. She only offers a silent sigh and a look of grief before she turns back forward and steps into the fortress.
She is met with guards, guards that she has trained personally. They know who she is, but as they were trained, they need to know her business. “I come seeking an audience with Ira.” They look to one another for a moment before they slowly part and let her by. They know her and trust that she will not harm the new Sovereign. She silently thanks them with a simple nod before she steps into the citadel in the hopes of meeting with Ira on this very blessed Monday morning.
I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.
I
ra cannot shake the habits of his old profession—he wakes well before the sun rises, and busies himself with old, soothing routines. He braids his mane ornately down his neck, and his tail as well. He rereads his journal entry from the night before, regathering his thoughts on the recent call to the summit all Sovereigns underwent, followed by his own Champion Trials.
The edge of excitement, of—not knowing—strikes him both with exhilaration and a bit of fear. For the last two years he has spent every day in monotonous routine. The routine itself, although repetitive, has brought him comfort and confidence. He never had to question himself in the woods; always, he was sure-footed and swift, with traps or with bow and arrows. This new life, however, often overwhelms him.
On one hand, there is always much to be done. On the other, he finds his lack of current advisors to be disheartening and, often, quite lonely.
Luckily, Katniss saves Ira from the spiraling nature of his own thoughts. He had just been descending a crystal-bright staircase when he sees her entering the Keep. He smiles—a brief, bright expression—and finishes the descent.
“To what,” Ira begins. “Do I owe the pleasure, Champion?”
He has always enjoyed that title—Champion. He remembers asking his father what it meant and his father’s distracted—nearly disinterested—explanation. “It means—it means to be a person who supports a cause, who triumphs on the behalf of someone else, on behalf of the people—“
Does it, Katniss?
Is that what being a Champion entails?
“Walk with me,” Ira invites. “I usually go out into the city around daybreak. An old habit, that has been hard for me to give up.”
She seems him coming towards her and she cannot help but offer him a friendly smile, a silent ‘thank you’ for seeing him on this fine morning. She is about to part her lips and share her reason for coming when he addresses her first, using her most formal title. It makes her cringe inwardly. “Please, it’s just Katniss.” The title has always sounded strange on her tongue. Katniss did not like to set herself apart from others, even if her rank demanded it. Even when she was once a queen, she hated being addressed as such. Titles were formal and caused rifts between subjects and ruler. They were not something she, personally, liked. But Ira didn’t know that about her. In fact, he didn’t know much about her at all.
But instead of indulging just why she only wanted to be called by her first name, she steps closer to him so she might fall into step with him. She was ready and willing to follow him anywhere, a sign of a true subject. And as he suggests that she join him, Katniss cannot shake the feeling of relief. It’s far less formal to walk with someone than it is to stand in their presence demanding attention. Perhaps she will come to like this new Sovereign.
As they fall into step next to one another, Katniss walks in silence until they are out in the open, the sun’s morning rays beating down her back. “I understand that feeling. I always start my morning with patrols -it helps clear my mind and prepare it for the day to come.” It allowed her to reflect about herself and her choices for the day. It allowed her to mentally prepare herself for all the morning would bring her. It was soothing and relaxing, something she looked forward to each morning.
But she did not come here to self-reflect.
As they began to walk, Katniss turns to look at him. “I want to discuss the possibility of hosting a preparedness class. I want to send my soldiers into trials but I want to invite the medics and lay people to join as well. I find it important that we as a nation are ready for battle. Peace has hovered in Novus for so long, it makes me uneasy. I want the medics to feel comfortable helping in battle and I want he people of Denocte to feel like they can protect their families at a minimum should harm come to us.” While Katniss hoped that she would never have to see another battlefield, she wanted to be prepared. She wanted her people to feel prepared. There was nothing like a war coming to your soil and your subjects unable to defend themselves.
