Protecting Octavia
Lincoln eyed his opponent as the Elders took their places: more experienced, more robust, more ruthless; but more arrogant as well. He closed his eyes, envisioning Octavia, before stepping out of the shadows to face The Commander. A hand in the crowd grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.
"What are you doing?" Octavia's face was etched with angry concern.
"Protecting you; that's all I've ever wanted to do." Lincoln's reply did little to diffuse the situation.
"What? This has nothing to do with me!"
He lost his temper: "This has everything to do with you!"
Seeing her distress, Lincoln exhaled deeply to explain. "Luna told me earlier today. The Commander has been suspicious of us for some time; of our numbers and our strength. Our alliance with your people has only heightened his paranoia. He sees us as a threat."
Lincoln cast his gaze to the subject of their conversation, still pacing in front of the fire. "Coming after Luna was only a pretext. Unless I defeat him, he will raze this village to the ground and then every village between here and your friends, your family, before killing them too." He looked at her again, "I cannot lose. I cannot lose you."
Octavia's eyes filled with tears, but they did not spill over onto her cheeks. Tossing her hair, green eyes shimmering and defiant, she spoke to her warrior: "Then win."
Lincoln nodded and stepped into the light.