Freedom on Your Tongue: Chapter 3
Title: Freedom On Your Tongue
Author: Kiki
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing/Character(s): Peeta/Katniss, hints of Gale/Katniss
Rating: M
Word count: 4200
Spoilers: tHG-MJ
Summary: Katniss enters the games alone, wins them alone, and must face the consequences of her actions alone. Peeta has other plans.
Disclaimer. None of this is mine.
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Chapter 3: Unapology
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The nightmares didn’t come every night, but they came more nights than not.
The Capitol sent her medicine for them, another spray that she was supposed to take every day. It made her thoughts slow and her sleep heavy. It didn’t take the nightmares away, just made them impossible to wake from.
Were all victors so lucky? Every year when they received their victor’s prize, were those boxes laced with enough meds to make the trade worth it? Sanity for riches. Once she would have been happy for the deal; she would have sold anything to keep Prim and her mother fed. She’s not so sure anymore.
Though seeing Prim in her new dresses did help.
Eventually, she gave up on sleep. She pulled on her coat and boots and stumbled into the street. It was harder to get around at night. The district had a vague curfew, the rules of which she wasn’t certain about. It had only ever been enforced selectively. A peacekeeper might drag you home if they thought you were up to something, another might lock you up for a few days, or they could ignore you altogether.
In the yard only two houses from hers, she silently lifted herself onto a windowsill, balancing all her weight on her arms for a precarious second. Haymitch was passed out in an armchair. A liquor bottle was tipped over on his lap, its meagre remains leaving a soaked patch down his leg and dripping into the once plush carpet. His chest slowly expanded and she dropped back to the ground. Katniss had a rather reasonable fear that Haymitch would pass out and die choking on his own vomit. When that day inevitably came, she didn’t want Hazelle to be the one to find him.
She kept to the shadows all the way through town, which was easy enough seen as no one could remember a time when the street lights still worked, if they ever had at all. She slipped under the fence, but it was harder to work her way through the forest in the dark. Each step was louder, each movement slower as she relied heavily on senses other than her sight. Finding a familiar tree, she fought her way up, foot after foot disappeared under her hands till her breath came easier and her limbs weren’t fighting her brain to run and hide. The branch was too thin to be comfortable, but thick enough that she could lean her back against the tree trunk and feel stable.
The forest was still her home. It was still the one place where she was alone and almost free, but it was different, now that she knew what forests could hide. She closed her eyes. But not in this forest. That was another forest. An evil place built by evil people far, far away. It was a familiar chant, one that never quite worked. Still she was high up, and that was almost enough to keep her safe.
She drifted into that place that wasn’t quite sleep, where time melted away but bones were no less weary.
Something hit her thigh, and she looked upwards before her eyes were even open. The missile had the woody texture of a cone, but this was definitely the wrong species of tree for that. She leaned over to search the ground just in time to catch another cone in the chest.
“Morning, squirrel!” Gale called up.
Her eyes narrowed. “It would serve you right if I fell.”
He only laughed at the mention of her possible demise. “Ready to come down yet?”
She thought for a second before wordlessly beginning her descent. Sharp chunks of wood dug into her hands and branches bent but never broke under her feet. As she dangled from the lowest branch, Gale wrapped his hands around her waist, easing her onto the ground.
She tried not to read anything into the way his hands lingered as she brushed off her clothes.
He’d kissed her once. It was the first time she’d gone into the forest with him after returning from the capitol. He’d already known things. Not everything, but enough. He’d been almost proud of her stunt with the nightlock, but more than that, he was angry. Never again, he’d made her swear. They’d fight to kill, or not at all.
Somehow, he’d pushed her against a tree, and his hands were holding her face up to his. “You don’t get to leave me like that,” he’d growled before lowering his lips to hers. And it was all so new. There was nothing Gale about the way his lips sucked on hers, or the way his tongue felt as it ran lightly over her teeth, nothing of the Gale she knew in his calloused fingers holding her face, or the muscled arm protecting her back from the bruising tree.
She’d been breathing heavily by the time he pulled back, her thoughts frantic. Gale had just sworn under his breath then held her close for a second, but it wasn’t the same. His arms didn’t feel familiar anymore and she wondered if he’d ever feel safe again.
“That was too soon. I should have waited. But just think about it, okay?”
She’d nodded, because there was nothing else to do.
But she never thought about it. Every corner of her mind was inhabited by nightmares and the second she managed to focus on anything else, real life monsters waited. There was still a chance she could fix her mistakes. The Victory Tour was less than a week away and then she’d see for herself what was going on. She had a chance to quell whatever unrest there was in the districts and there was a chance, however small, that President Snow would leave her and her family alone. Occasionally she spared a thought for the other victors, for Haymitch, whose sad existence had Snow’s finger prints all over it, for Finnick, who even now was suffering a fate she couldn’t imagine. She would probably feel more sympathetic if there wasn’t a chance she’d be joining him soon.
She had to survive and she couldn’t waste time thinking about what Gale kissing her might mean.
She straightened and Gale handed her bow over, which he must have collected from her hiding spot on the way in.
He gave her a steady look. That stare meant she must look at least as bad as she felt.
“Have a good night?” he finally asked. It was the closest he’d ever come to asking if she was alright. He knew that she wasn’t and knew that she wouldn’t appreciate his questions.
“Fine. Prim didn’t send you?” She grimaced. Prim got worried when Katniss wasn’t back before she woke. Prim had even gone to Gale and implored him to hunt her down a couple of times.
Still, this was better than the alternative of waking up screaming till Prim and her mother were pulled from their sleep. Things were horrible enough without the wrongness of having her baby sister hold her at night, promising that everything was alright when it clearly wasn’t.
“Still early,” Gale told her. “We’ve got time for a hunt if we make it quick.”
It was an unusually hard morning. The forest was either empty, or somehow they were emptying it. She’d gotten less than four or five hours of decent sleep in the last three days and her instincts were bearing the cost. Blurs and shadows she caught out of the corner of her eye disappeared when she turned towards them. She ruined Gale’s kill by tripping over a tree stump and frightening the squirrel. It was sheer determination more than any skill that let her hunt it down again. Luckily, one of Gale’s snares held a good sized rabbit, which almost made the hunt worth their efforts.
They headed home, Gale seeming unconcerned by the morning. He didn’t say a word about her bumbling efforts, but she was annoyed with herself. She should have done better. She might not need to hunt anymore, but it was still important for Gale and his family. He was working in the mines, the mines that had killed their fathers, just to put food on his family’s table and if she wasn’t at the top of her game then she’d never convince him to quit.
And he couldn’t stay there long. No one ever did.
The Capitol insisted there weren’t any health risks of working with gases and coal dust, but Gale didn’t believe that any more than she did. There were no old miners, and that fact rather spoke for itself.
She had to find a way to get him out of there.
“Is that baker’s kid still hanging around?” Gale asked casually, still cleaning his knife as they walked.
She’d bet good money that Gale knew Peeta’s name. She assumed his general antipathy towards merchants stopped him from using it.
“Sometimes,” she answered cautiously.
Peeta was still in school. She was meant to be as well, but she’d never bothered going back and no one had made her. Senior years were even worse. Most of the children had apprenticeships or took up other work to help their family by sixteen, so classes only ran three days a week, which was just two less days to not teach them anything. Peeta worked at the bakery those two days, and alternate mornings and afternoons. He usually came over when school let out and he didn’t have to work.
“What do you do? I can’t imagine the two of you have much in common.”
Katniss couldn’t understand whatever laced Gale’s words, but knew it wasn’t good. “Nothing really.” She shrugged. Peeta had chatted incessantly the second time he’d come over, the nervous kind of chatter that didn’t say a lot. He was better now though. He seemed happy enough to do his homework while she sharpened her knives or opened the ridiculous mail she got, only making a few jokes when she pulled out some of the truly atrocious gifts her Capitol fans sent. He actually made the task grate on her nerves slightly less.
“I honestly don’t know what he wants,” she admitted.
Gale snorted. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
The look he gave her was so suggestive she had to fight the urge to trip him.
She knew what guys did when they were after that. Not from experience, of course. Nor did she ever talk about it, finding it the most useless topic imaginable, but she’d seen it. They usually came with frivolous gifts like scented soap or hair ribbons, and silly words of flattery that seemed more embarrassing than anything else.
Peeta had been nothing but polite and vaguely friendly. He occasionally tried to ask her questions, but he’d talked longer with Prim than her.
“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed, not even looking at him.
“Then don’t be such a child!” Gale shot back.
“It’s not like that.” She shook her head, getting angrier.
“Maybe not for you, but it is for him. He’s going to use you, Katniss. Then he’ll brag to his whoreson friends about how he screwed District 12’s very own victor. Don’t let him.”
She marched ahead, trying to put as much distance between them as she could. It’s not as if she didn’t think the same thing. Well, not exactly the same thing, but she had thought Peeta wanted something from her. Maybe money to help his family, or something from another district for the bakery that only she could get. But it made her angry that Gale thought the only possible reason someone might befriend her was bragging rights.
Then they were in her head again. Buzzing. The sound of tracker jacker wings vibrating invaded her senses and wouldn’t leave. It’s not real. She focused on taking even steps and not freaking out. Gale didn’t need any more evidence of her insanity. But the sound didn’t stop. It just kept getting louder and louder. She spun, her head twisting from side to side as she desperately searched for the mutts she knew couldn’t be there. Maybe Snow wanted her dead. Maybe he didn’t want to even give her a chance to fail before he killed Gale. But why tracker jackers? Had she really done something so terrible she deserved the pain of death by tracker jacker poisoning?
Gale’s hand was around her elbow, squeezing gently to get her attention. Had he been saying something?
“Bee, Katniss.” He pointed to the heavy grass beside them. “Just a bee,” he said with so much understanding it made her want scream.
She was sweating and the heart she shouldn’t have was beating unhappily fast.
She couldn’t handle this. This stupid fear that haunted her every move. It was just the last straw of frustration that broke her temper.
She prowled into the grass, one foot directly in front of the other. The bee bobbed up and down, its movements abrupt and jerky. Occasionally it would stop to rest on a flower before continuing on.
“Katniss?” Gale questioned.
She held up a finger, signalling that she needed silence. He followed her as she followed the bee.
She heard the hive before the bee could lead her to it. It was in the hollow of a dead tree, half fallen into the forest, like a drunk leaning on his comrades.
She grinned back at Gale.
“No, no, no. It’s not worth it, Katniss. And I have to be at work soon.”
“Then go.”
“And how are you going to start a fire without your belt?”
She’d forgotten about that. “You can leave your kit with me.” She held out her hand imperiously.
Gale sighed and handed her his tinder kit, but stayed on.
She didn’t know what Gale was talking about. It really wasn’t that hard. And so what if she’d been a little too quick to go for the combs and a few bees hadn’t been sedated? Though she didn’t know why they all went for her face when Gale’s was right there and twice as pretty as hers. She’d had her jacket wrapped around her face, below her eyes, so the only good stings they’d got were above her left cheek and on her left temple.
Gale had helped her cut out as many combs at they could wrap in the small cloth he used for berries. She took an extra piece she could eat from on the journey home. Gale plucked the stingers from her face without comment and she was proud of herself for not making a sound at the pain.
Back on the trail home, she felt much lighter than she had before. She felt almost giddy as she licked honey from her hand. It dripped steadily from the comb and she was certain it would be down to her elbow by the time she got into town.
“Fuck!” Gale swore, doing a double take at her face. “Don’t let Prim see you like that. You look like something from the swamps,” he laughed.
She laughed too, even though when she smiled she couldn’t see out of her left eye, which was heavily swollen.
“Told you not to bother,” he reminded her.
She dipped her finger into a puddle of honey and then swiped it across Gale’s mouth. “Tell me that isn’t worth it,” she teased.
He pulled his lips into his mouth, tasting them slowly. There was something in his eyes that made her uncomfortable. “You may have a point,” he said in a falsely light voice.
“I’m sorry. For earlier. About Peeta,” he clarified when she looked confused. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. More than you already have.”
“I know,” she replied, slipping under the fence. “Give me everything. I’ll drop whatever I get at the hob off with Hazelle.”
He held out their prizes with a sharp glance. “And take your share?”
“Of course.” She grabbed everything, though it was annoying without her usual hunting stuff.
“Are you lying?”
“Of course.” She smiled, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
His reluctant smile echoed hers. “Get something for your face, Catnip. That thing could scare Haymitch.”
She headed to the hob and he went off for another day in the mines.
She finished off her honey comb and ignored the strange looks she was getting. People always looked at her strangely anyway.
She got a decent price for both game. Not great. She didn’t have it in her to drive a hard bargain when she had so much and everyone else had so little. Greasy Sae eyed her face slyly. “You fight it out with a hive, ‘ey? Don’t suppose you’ll be trading for that.”
Honey was rare in the district. She’d get good price for it, money that Gale’s family could use…But she thought on Prim’s smile and the way Posy clapped her hands when she was truly excited, which wasn’t nearly as often as five-year-olds should be.
“Not today.”
There was no reason her attention should be drawn, none at all. Everything in the Hob was dim, even the features of its occupants bore a striking resemblance. The dark hair and eyes of the Seam were prevalent here.
And Ash’s were no different.
She was taller than most people. And her face had a soft beauty that wasn’t common in the district, even if it was usually marred by a smirk.
Ash was Tate’s older sister. He’d told her once that less than a year separated them, so she had to be over eighteen.
Their eyes met, grey on grey, and Katniss froze. There was nothing she could read in Ash’s gaze, and nothing she truly wanted to see anyway. What could she say? I’m sorry your brother is dead? I’m sorry I hesitated at the Cornucopia? I’m sorry Tate was too kind to let me die?
It was nothing but the awful sort of luck that seemed to rule her life.
Tate hadn’t wanted to like her and she’d been determined to not like him. For either to survive, the other had to die, and they both refused to hide from that fact. If she was nice to Tate, he would have hated her for making the games even harder. But she wasn’t. She’d ignored him on good days and been downright surly on others.
That had won his approval quicker than anything else could have.
He didn’t have her hunting skills, bet he’d been clever and strong, and a survivor just like her. Almost a survivor, she amended.
He might have lived, if he’d had a little less respect for her.
The older girl’s eyes slipped away and Katniss felt like she could breathe again. The smirk on the other girl’s face tightened into something painful looking.
She couldn’t apologize, because she wasn’t nearly as brave as she pretended to be.
She knew she had to find a way to help her.
Tate’s mother had died years ago leaving Ash, Tate, and their younger brother, Cloud, practically orphaned. Their father was an alcoholic who would spend his own money and anything his kids earned faster than they could make it. It was a better year for most, but the rations for the winner’s district wouldn’t last forever.
She started towards Gale’s house.
Tate’s family wouldn’t take charity and nothing she did could be traced back to her. Being nice was dangerous when you were accused of inciting rebellion. She’d have to think on it.
By the time Hazelle opened the door, this morning’s earnings had tripled.
“Good catch?” Hazelle asked with one brow raised suspiciously as she took the money.
Gale’s mother knew she slipped extra into the trade, but allowed it anyway. Hazelle wasn’t too proud to take a little help if it kept her kids’ stomachs full. Not to mention she thought Katniss’s generosity was purely for Gale’s sake, which made it easier it swallow.
“Excellent,” she lied. “Kids still here?”
“I’m not a kid!” Rory howled from somewhere deeper in the house. She found him pulling on his boots in the tiny bedroom the three boys shared. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Catnip,” he informed her with a lightning-quick grin.
“Right,” she said wryly. “How could I have forgotten?” She slipped a few coins into his hand. Then ruffled Vick’s hair before he could protest, slipping the same amount into the youngest boy’s pocket. She tapped her nose and Vick giggled at the thought of their shared secret.
“Are you a monster today, Kat?” Vick asked, gripping his coins in a protective fist.
The question startled her before she realised he was referring to her bee stings, for a brief second she thought he’d been talking about the games. She managed a small smile. “Save up and buy yourself new shoes.” She touched the hole where his sock was visible.
She always gave them enough for a few meals in case of emergency. They weren’t the type of boys to waste it, but even if they did, she wouldn’t mind. She spent as long as she could helping Hazelle with the washing and cuddling Posy whenever Hazelle shooed her away.
The house was empty by the time she got home. Prim would be at school and her mother was probably out on an errand, either healing or looking for ingredients.
In her study, she tried to focus on the sketches Cinna had sent, but somehow her head ended up on the page and she simply traced the same design endlessly.
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The night was there far too quick. And just like the night before she didn’t last long in her bed.
She was in the same tree this time, though she managed to climb higher. But she wasn’t safe. Not ever. Not even close
She became hopelessly tangled in the trees bushy foliage. Vicious thorns bit at her skin and beautiful roses waited patiently to taste her blood. She wanted to pull herself free, but she knew she’d fall if she did.
And he was waiting at the bottom, circling the tree. His pale eyes watched and his bloody mouth watered.
}{
Prim opened the door and greeted him with the sweetest smile he’d seen since, well, the last time he’d been here. She sent him up to the study with strict instructions before she rushed out to help her mother with a birth.
He knocked lightly on the study door, entering only after a long pause with no answer.
Katniss was slumped on her desk, her mouth open and even breaths slipping from her lips.
She looked more dishevelled than he’d ever seen her and he hesitated to wake her, despite Prim’s instructions. Her eyes flickered frantically behind their lids and her breath shook, almost like a soundless whimper.
He put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it softly as he called her name.
She sprung up without warning, her eyes blinking too fast as she tried to focus.
He wiped the worry from his face. “Sorry to wake you, but Prim sent me with this for your stings.” There was a cold pack and some sweet smelling ointment in his hands.
“It’s okay,” she said slowly, her eyes dipping to Cinna’s sketch, which she’d ruined. “I’ve been told my face needs all the help it can get.”
“Looks fine to me,” he replied honestly.
She gave a small sound that might have been a laugh. “Thanks,” she responded, taking his words as sarcasm. “Better not waste the ointment though.”
He watched as she applied the brown gunk haphazardly. She never worried about how she looked, and it drove him crazy, because no one should be that attractive and not even attempt to care. It wasn’t fair.
But he had to admit, it wasn’t her best day.
She rubbed her good eye, as if it wouldn’t quite stay open, which must have made things tough with the other one swollen closed.
“You should lie down.” He nodded to the fancy chaise lounge in the corner of the room.
Katniss snorted.
“Really,” he assured her. “I disturbed your nap. And I’ve got a heap of homework to do. You’d be doing me a favour, because then I could use the peace of your study without feeling like a total jerk.”
“I shouldn’t. I’ve been asleep too long alr-“ Her mouth stretched open with a bone-cracking yawn.
“Go on.” He guided her towards the lounge. “I’ll just finish my math work and then I’ll wake you.”
She must desperately need the sleep, because there was no way she’d be this easy to maneuverer any other day.
She perched on the edge of the lounge, still looking uncertain. “You won’t let me sleep long?” she questioned, sounding too young and too unsure to be the Katniss he knew.
“Nope. I’ll keep watch and wake you from the bad stuff.”
She nodded, already curling into the lounge. She was too tired to notice he was promising he’d wake her before the nightmares came, something well-rested Katniss would despise.
But he did it anyway.
And he swore he always would.
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Author: Kiki
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing/Character(s): Peeta/Katniss, hints of Gale/Katniss
Rating: M
Word count: 4200
Spoilers: tHG-MJ
Summary: Katniss enters the games alone, wins them alone, and must face the consequences of her actions alone. Peeta has other plans.
Disclaimer. None of this is mine.
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Chapter 3: Unapology
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The nightmares didn’t come every night, but they came more nights than not.
The Capitol sent her medicine for them, another spray that she was supposed to take every day. It made her thoughts slow and her sleep heavy. It didn’t take the nightmares away, just made them impossible to wake from.
Were all victors so lucky? Every year when they received their victor’s prize, were those boxes laced with enough meds to make the trade worth it? Sanity for riches. Once she would have been happy for the deal; she would have sold anything to keep Prim and her mother fed. She’s not so sure anymore.
Though seeing Prim in her new dresses did help.
Eventually, she gave up on sleep. She pulled on her coat and boots and stumbled into the street. It was harder to get around at night. The district had a vague curfew, the rules of which she wasn’t certain about. It had only ever been enforced selectively. A peacekeeper might drag you home if they thought you were up to something, another might lock you up for a few days, or they could ignore you altogether.
In the yard only two houses from hers, she silently lifted herself onto a windowsill, balancing all her weight on her arms for a precarious second. Haymitch was passed out in an armchair. A liquor bottle was tipped over on his lap, its meagre remains leaving a soaked patch down his leg and dripping into the once plush carpet. His chest slowly expanded and she dropped back to the ground. Katniss had a rather reasonable fear that Haymitch would pass out and die choking on his own vomit. When that day inevitably came, she didn’t want Hazelle to be the one to find him.
She kept to the shadows all the way through town, which was easy enough seen as no one could remember a time when the street lights still worked, if they ever had at all. She slipped under the fence, but it was harder to work her way through the forest in the dark. Each step was louder, each movement slower as she relied heavily on senses other than her sight. Finding a familiar tree, she fought her way up, foot after foot disappeared under her hands till her breath came easier and her limbs weren’t fighting her brain to run and hide. The branch was too thin to be comfortable, but thick enough that she could lean her back against the tree trunk and feel stable.
The forest was still her home. It was still the one place where she was alone and almost free, but it was different, now that she knew what forests could hide. She closed her eyes. But not in this forest. That was another forest. An evil place built by evil people far, far away. It was a familiar chant, one that never quite worked. Still she was high up, and that was almost enough to keep her safe.
She drifted into that place that wasn’t quite sleep, where time melted away but bones were no less weary.
Something hit her thigh, and she looked upwards before her eyes were even open. The missile had the woody texture of a cone, but this was definitely the wrong species of tree for that. She leaned over to search the ground just in time to catch another cone in the chest.
“Morning, squirrel!” Gale called up.
Her eyes narrowed. “It would serve you right if I fell.”
He only laughed at the mention of her possible demise. “Ready to come down yet?”
She thought for a second before wordlessly beginning her descent. Sharp chunks of wood dug into her hands and branches bent but never broke under her feet. As she dangled from the lowest branch, Gale wrapped his hands around her waist, easing her onto the ground.
She tried not to read anything into the way his hands lingered as she brushed off her clothes.
He’d kissed her once. It was the first time she’d gone into the forest with him after returning from the capitol. He’d already known things. Not everything, but enough. He’d been almost proud of her stunt with the nightlock, but more than that, he was angry. Never again, he’d made her swear. They’d fight to kill, or not at all.
Somehow, he’d pushed her against a tree, and his hands were holding her face up to his. “You don’t get to leave me like that,” he’d growled before lowering his lips to hers. And it was all so new. There was nothing Gale about the way his lips sucked on hers, or the way his tongue felt as it ran lightly over her teeth, nothing of the Gale she knew in his calloused fingers holding her face, or the muscled arm protecting her back from the bruising tree.
She’d been breathing heavily by the time he pulled back, her thoughts frantic. Gale had just sworn under his breath then held her close for a second, but it wasn’t the same. His arms didn’t feel familiar anymore and she wondered if he’d ever feel safe again.
“That was too soon. I should have waited. But just think about it, okay?”
She’d nodded, because there was nothing else to do.
But she never thought about it. Every corner of her mind was inhabited by nightmares and the second she managed to focus on anything else, real life monsters waited. There was still a chance she could fix her mistakes. The Victory Tour was less than a week away and then she’d see for herself what was going on. She had a chance to quell whatever unrest there was in the districts and there was a chance, however small, that President Snow would leave her and her family alone. Occasionally she spared a thought for the other victors, for Haymitch, whose sad existence had Snow’s finger prints all over it, for Finnick, who even now was suffering a fate she couldn’t imagine. She would probably feel more sympathetic if there wasn’t a chance she’d be joining him soon.
She had to survive and she couldn’t waste time thinking about what Gale kissing her might mean.
She straightened and Gale handed her bow over, which he must have collected from her hiding spot on the way in.
He gave her a steady look. That stare meant she must look at least as bad as she felt.
“Have a good night?” he finally asked. It was the closest he’d ever come to asking if she was alright. He knew that she wasn’t and knew that she wouldn’t appreciate his questions.
“Fine. Prim didn’t send you?” She grimaced. Prim got worried when Katniss wasn’t back before she woke. Prim had even gone to Gale and implored him to hunt her down a couple of times.
Still, this was better than the alternative of waking up screaming till Prim and her mother were pulled from their sleep. Things were horrible enough without the wrongness of having her baby sister hold her at night, promising that everything was alright when it clearly wasn’t.
“Still early,” Gale told her. “We’ve got time for a hunt if we make it quick.”
It was an unusually hard morning. The forest was either empty, or somehow they were emptying it. She’d gotten less than four or five hours of decent sleep in the last three days and her instincts were bearing the cost. Blurs and shadows she caught out of the corner of her eye disappeared when she turned towards them. She ruined Gale’s kill by tripping over a tree stump and frightening the squirrel. It was sheer determination more than any skill that let her hunt it down again. Luckily, one of Gale’s snares held a good sized rabbit, which almost made the hunt worth their efforts.
They headed home, Gale seeming unconcerned by the morning. He didn’t say a word about her bumbling efforts, but she was annoyed with herself. She should have done better. She might not need to hunt anymore, but it was still important for Gale and his family. He was working in the mines, the mines that had killed their fathers, just to put food on his family’s table and if she wasn’t at the top of her game then she’d never convince him to quit.
And he couldn’t stay there long. No one ever did.
The Capitol insisted there weren’t any health risks of working with gases and coal dust, but Gale didn’t believe that any more than she did. There were no old miners, and that fact rather spoke for itself.
She had to find a way to get him out of there.
“Is that baker’s kid still hanging around?” Gale asked casually, still cleaning his knife as they walked.
She’d bet good money that Gale knew Peeta’s name. She assumed his general antipathy towards merchants stopped him from using it.
“Sometimes,” she answered cautiously.
Peeta was still in school. She was meant to be as well, but she’d never bothered going back and no one had made her. Senior years were even worse. Most of the children had apprenticeships or took up other work to help their family by sixteen, so classes only ran three days a week, which was just two less days to not teach them anything. Peeta worked at the bakery those two days, and alternate mornings and afternoons. He usually came over when school let out and he didn’t have to work.
“What do you do? I can’t imagine the two of you have much in common.”
Katniss couldn’t understand whatever laced Gale’s words, but knew it wasn’t good. “Nothing really.” She shrugged. Peeta had chatted incessantly the second time he’d come over, the nervous kind of chatter that didn’t say a lot. He was better now though. He seemed happy enough to do his homework while she sharpened her knives or opened the ridiculous mail she got, only making a few jokes when she pulled out some of the truly atrocious gifts her Capitol fans sent. He actually made the task grate on her nerves slightly less.
“I honestly don’t know what he wants,” she admitted.
Gale snorted. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
The look he gave her was so suggestive she had to fight the urge to trip him.
She knew what guys did when they were after that. Not from experience, of course. Nor did she ever talk about it, finding it the most useless topic imaginable, but she’d seen it. They usually came with frivolous gifts like scented soap or hair ribbons, and silly words of flattery that seemed more embarrassing than anything else.
Peeta had been nothing but polite and vaguely friendly. He occasionally tried to ask her questions, but he’d talked longer with Prim than her.
“Don’t be stupid,” she hissed, not even looking at him.
“Then don’t be such a child!” Gale shot back.
“It’s not like that.” She shook her head, getting angrier.
“Maybe not for you, but it is for him. He’s going to use you, Katniss. Then he’ll brag to his whoreson friends about how he screwed District 12’s very own victor. Don’t let him.”
She marched ahead, trying to put as much distance between them as she could. It’s not as if she didn’t think the same thing. Well, not exactly the same thing, but she had thought Peeta wanted something from her. Maybe money to help his family, or something from another district for the bakery that only she could get. But it made her angry that Gale thought the only possible reason someone might befriend her was bragging rights.
Then they were in her head again. Buzzing. The sound of tracker jacker wings vibrating invaded her senses and wouldn’t leave. It’s not real. She focused on taking even steps and not freaking out. Gale didn’t need any more evidence of her insanity. But the sound didn’t stop. It just kept getting louder and louder. She spun, her head twisting from side to side as she desperately searched for the mutts she knew couldn’t be there. Maybe Snow wanted her dead. Maybe he didn’t want to even give her a chance to fail before he killed Gale. But why tracker jackers? Had she really done something so terrible she deserved the pain of death by tracker jacker poisoning?
Gale’s hand was around her elbow, squeezing gently to get her attention. Had he been saying something?
“Bee, Katniss.” He pointed to the heavy grass beside them. “Just a bee,” he said with so much understanding it made her want scream.
She was sweating and the heart she shouldn’t have was beating unhappily fast.
She couldn’t handle this. This stupid fear that haunted her every move. It was just the last straw of frustration that broke her temper.
She prowled into the grass, one foot directly in front of the other. The bee bobbed up and down, its movements abrupt and jerky. Occasionally it would stop to rest on a flower before continuing on.
“Katniss?” Gale questioned.
She held up a finger, signalling that she needed silence. He followed her as she followed the bee.
She heard the hive before the bee could lead her to it. It was in the hollow of a dead tree, half fallen into the forest, like a drunk leaning on his comrades.
She grinned back at Gale.
“No, no, no. It’s not worth it, Katniss. And I have to be at work soon.”
“Then go.”
“And how are you going to start a fire without your belt?”
She’d forgotten about that. “You can leave your kit with me.” She held out her hand imperiously.
Gale sighed and handed her his tinder kit, but stayed on.
She didn’t know what Gale was talking about. It really wasn’t that hard. And so what if she’d been a little too quick to go for the combs and a few bees hadn’t been sedated? Though she didn’t know why they all went for her face when Gale’s was right there and twice as pretty as hers. She’d had her jacket wrapped around her face, below her eyes, so the only good stings they’d got were above her left cheek and on her left temple.
Gale had helped her cut out as many combs at they could wrap in the small cloth he used for berries. She took an extra piece she could eat from on the journey home. Gale plucked the stingers from her face without comment and she was proud of herself for not making a sound at the pain.
Back on the trail home, she felt much lighter than she had before. She felt almost giddy as she licked honey from her hand. It dripped steadily from the comb and she was certain it would be down to her elbow by the time she got into town.
“Fuck!” Gale swore, doing a double take at her face. “Don’t let Prim see you like that. You look like something from the swamps,” he laughed.
She laughed too, even though when she smiled she couldn’t see out of her left eye, which was heavily swollen.
“Told you not to bother,” he reminded her.
She dipped her finger into a puddle of honey and then swiped it across Gale’s mouth. “Tell me that isn’t worth it,” she teased.
He pulled his lips into his mouth, tasting them slowly. There was something in his eyes that made her uncomfortable. “You may have a point,” he said in a falsely light voice.
“I’m sorry. For earlier. About Peeta,” he clarified when she looked confused. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. More than you already have.”
“I know,” she replied, slipping under the fence. “Give me everything. I’ll drop whatever I get at the hob off with Hazelle.”
He held out their prizes with a sharp glance. “And take your share?”
“Of course.” She grabbed everything, though it was annoying without her usual hunting stuff.
“Are you lying?”
“Of course.” She smiled, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
His reluctant smile echoed hers. “Get something for your face, Catnip. That thing could scare Haymitch.”
She headed to the hob and he went off for another day in the mines.
She finished off her honey comb and ignored the strange looks she was getting. People always looked at her strangely anyway.
She got a decent price for both game. Not great. She didn’t have it in her to drive a hard bargain when she had so much and everyone else had so little. Greasy Sae eyed her face slyly. “You fight it out with a hive, ‘ey? Don’t suppose you’ll be trading for that.”
Honey was rare in the district. She’d get good price for it, money that Gale’s family could use…But she thought on Prim’s smile and the way Posy clapped her hands when she was truly excited, which wasn’t nearly as often as five-year-olds should be.
“Not today.”
There was no reason her attention should be drawn, none at all. Everything in the Hob was dim, even the features of its occupants bore a striking resemblance. The dark hair and eyes of the Seam were prevalent here.
And Ash’s were no different.
She was taller than most people. And her face had a soft beauty that wasn’t common in the district, even if it was usually marred by a smirk.
Ash was Tate’s older sister. He’d told her once that less than a year separated them, so she had to be over eighteen.
Their eyes met, grey on grey, and Katniss froze. There was nothing she could read in Ash’s gaze, and nothing she truly wanted to see anyway. What could she say? I’m sorry your brother is dead? I’m sorry I hesitated at the Cornucopia? I’m sorry Tate was too kind to let me die?
It was nothing but the awful sort of luck that seemed to rule her life.
Tate hadn’t wanted to like her and she’d been determined to not like him. For either to survive, the other had to die, and they both refused to hide from that fact. If she was nice to Tate, he would have hated her for making the games even harder. But she wasn’t. She’d ignored him on good days and been downright surly on others.
That had won his approval quicker than anything else could have.
He didn’t have her hunting skills, bet he’d been clever and strong, and a survivor just like her. Almost a survivor, she amended.
He might have lived, if he’d had a little less respect for her.
The older girl’s eyes slipped away and Katniss felt like she could breathe again. The smirk on the other girl’s face tightened into something painful looking.
She couldn’t apologize, because she wasn’t nearly as brave as she pretended to be.
She knew she had to find a way to help her.
Tate’s mother had died years ago leaving Ash, Tate, and their younger brother, Cloud, practically orphaned. Their father was an alcoholic who would spend his own money and anything his kids earned faster than they could make it. It was a better year for most, but the rations for the winner’s district wouldn’t last forever.
She started towards Gale’s house.
Tate’s family wouldn’t take charity and nothing she did could be traced back to her. Being nice was dangerous when you were accused of inciting rebellion. She’d have to think on it.
By the time Hazelle opened the door, this morning’s earnings had tripled.
“Good catch?” Hazelle asked with one brow raised suspiciously as she took the money.
Gale’s mother knew she slipped extra into the trade, but allowed it anyway. Hazelle wasn’t too proud to take a little help if it kept her kids’ stomachs full. Not to mention she thought Katniss’s generosity was purely for Gale’s sake, which made it easier it swallow.
“Excellent,” she lied. “Kids still here?”
“I’m not a kid!” Rory howled from somewhere deeper in the house. She found him pulling on his boots in the tiny bedroom the three boys shared. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Catnip,” he informed her with a lightning-quick grin.
“Right,” she said wryly. “How could I have forgotten?” She slipped a few coins into his hand. Then ruffled Vick’s hair before he could protest, slipping the same amount into the youngest boy’s pocket. She tapped her nose and Vick giggled at the thought of their shared secret.
“Are you a monster today, Kat?” Vick asked, gripping his coins in a protective fist.
The question startled her before she realised he was referring to her bee stings, for a brief second she thought he’d been talking about the games. She managed a small smile. “Save up and buy yourself new shoes.” She touched the hole where his sock was visible.
She always gave them enough for a few meals in case of emergency. They weren’t the type of boys to waste it, but even if they did, she wouldn’t mind. She spent as long as she could helping Hazelle with the washing and cuddling Posy whenever Hazelle shooed her away.
The house was empty by the time she got home. Prim would be at school and her mother was probably out on an errand, either healing or looking for ingredients.
In her study, she tried to focus on the sketches Cinna had sent, but somehow her head ended up on the page and she simply traced the same design endlessly.
}{
The night was there far too quick. And just like the night before she didn’t last long in her bed.
She was in the same tree this time, though she managed to climb higher. But she wasn’t safe. Not ever. Not even close
She became hopelessly tangled in the trees bushy foliage. Vicious thorns bit at her skin and beautiful roses waited patiently to taste her blood. She wanted to pull herself free, but she knew she’d fall if she did.
And he was waiting at the bottom, circling the tree. His pale eyes watched and his bloody mouth watered.
}{
Prim opened the door and greeted him with the sweetest smile he’d seen since, well, the last time he’d been here. She sent him up to the study with strict instructions before she rushed out to help her mother with a birth.
He knocked lightly on the study door, entering only after a long pause with no answer.
Katniss was slumped on her desk, her mouth open and even breaths slipping from her lips.
She looked more dishevelled than he’d ever seen her and he hesitated to wake her, despite Prim’s instructions. Her eyes flickered frantically behind their lids and her breath shook, almost like a soundless whimper.
He put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it softly as he called her name.
She sprung up without warning, her eyes blinking too fast as she tried to focus.
He wiped the worry from his face. “Sorry to wake you, but Prim sent me with this for your stings.” There was a cold pack and some sweet smelling ointment in his hands.
“It’s okay,” she said slowly, her eyes dipping to Cinna’s sketch, which she’d ruined. “I’ve been told my face needs all the help it can get.”
“Looks fine to me,” he replied honestly.
She gave a small sound that might have been a laugh. “Thanks,” she responded, taking his words as sarcasm. “Better not waste the ointment though.”
He watched as she applied the brown gunk haphazardly. She never worried about how she looked, and it drove him crazy, because no one should be that attractive and not even attempt to care. It wasn’t fair.
But he had to admit, it wasn’t her best day.
She rubbed her good eye, as if it wouldn’t quite stay open, which must have made things tough with the other one swollen closed.
“You should lie down.” He nodded to the fancy chaise lounge in the corner of the room.
Katniss snorted.
“Really,” he assured her. “I disturbed your nap. And I’ve got a heap of homework to do. You’d be doing me a favour, because then I could use the peace of your study without feeling like a total jerk.”
“I shouldn’t. I’ve been asleep too long alr-“ Her mouth stretched open with a bone-cracking yawn.
“Go on.” He guided her towards the lounge. “I’ll just finish my math work and then I’ll wake you.”
She must desperately need the sleep, because there was no way she’d be this easy to maneuverer any other day.
She perched on the edge of the lounge, still looking uncertain. “You won’t let me sleep long?” she questioned, sounding too young and too unsure to be the Katniss he knew.
“Nope. I’ll keep watch and wake you from the bad stuff.”
She nodded, already curling into the lounge. She was too tired to notice he was promising he’d wake her before the nightmares came, something well-rested Katniss would despise.
But he did it anyway.
And he swore he always would.
}{