stillplaying | 4th Game [action]

Entry tags:

action,
luceti

4th Game [action]

[Today is a day that Katniss Everdeen never should have lived to see. Today - give or take the few days difference between Luceti's calender and Panem's - is the day she turns eighteen.

Life in the Seam. Two arenas. An uprising. Becoming the Mockingjay. Acting as assassin. Her own attempts at suicide. The bombs that took the wrong life.

The odds were never in her favor. Today was a day she never should have lived to see.

It's like any other day. She wakes up in her bed, shaking and sweating from a nightmare that lingers in the back of her mind. Watching Prim die again and again. Being physically incapable of rescuing her sister each and every time. And then panicking when she wakes up in a still unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.

Peeta had won. Maybe she hadn't fought this argument hard enough. But earlier this week, they packed up their treehouse shelter and moved into town. To house 43. Where Peeta's leg won't make it difficult for him to travel to town or climb up ladders. Where they live close to a bakery he could work at. Where Rue could more easily attend school.

Where she could wander around the village for the rest of the day, trying to forget every little event that led to today even as she reminds herself of all the deaths that led to her being able to turn eighteen. She carries her bow and arrow, but she has no intention to hunt. Today is an amnesty. Even if she never considered the game killed for food a part of her death toll, she can't bring herself to kill anything.

Instead, she explores the town in a way she's never bothered to before. She spends time inspecting the river and parts of the north eastern woods not too far from the house. Studying the other buildings. Going in and out of shops. She goes to the bakery and the library. Returns to the welcome center and the clothing store. Even steps into the Seventh Heaven restaurant to look but not eat. She has no appetite.

Her final stop of the day, before heading back to her new home, is at the item shop. It's easy to lose herself inside of there. To examine strange objects from other worlds that she's never seen before. And then to find something unexpected: her father's plant book.

As she flips through it, each page earning a careful caress as she studies her father's handwriting. And wonders what he would think if he were here in Luceti with her today. Would he be proud? Or would he be disappointed, loathe the girl she grew up to be?

She clutches the book to her chest before heading out and quietly whispers:] Happy birthday, Katniss Everdeen.

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[As if on cue, her stomach rumbles in protest. The lack of appetite is a mental thing more than any real physical lack. She looks down at the noise and frowns. She should eat. Even if she's gained back a lot of the weight lost during her trial, she's still skinny. Still not as healthy as she once was, back before the Quarter Quell.

And even if she doesn't eat, joining Arthur would give her an excuse to see what kind of food the place offers. For a future day, when she feels better.]

Okay.

[He's honestly surprised she joined him, but so be it. Finding the first empty table that isn't in a crowded spot, he pulls out a chair for her. He may be a prat, but he's a polite one. He waits for her to take a seat there.]

[She tilts her head a little, a little surprised by the action. It's a different side of Arthur. Not one she's seen before. A little more like Peeta than Gale.

She sits without complaint. On another day, she might have insisted that she could pull out her own chair. But not today.

When he sits, she glances up for a moment.] Do you eat here a lot?

[Good girl. Don't fight it. He takes his seat across from her.]

I try not to be here too often. I don't have any way to repay them for their service.

[She can understand that. And she looks at him, surprise visible that Arthur voiced those words. Isn't he a king? With servants? The need to repay services doesn't seem to fit in with that picture.

But there's no sharp quip today. Only an eventual nod of mutual agreement.]

[Which is surprising. He expected something at least. Either way, he unfolds his menu.]

What sort of thing are you hungry for?

[She opens her own menu as well and glances down at it. Some foods are familiar, others aren't. But it feels wrong to eat, to do something that denotes being so utterly alive, when others are dead.

A shrug.] I don't know. What's good?

[Well, Arthur may be a king, but he comes from a time that leaves him not very picky. However, he does have a favorite.]

I prefer steak, personally.

From a cow?

[Just to make sure. Venison steak is far more common. But even that, she's only gotten to have a handful of times in her life.]

[A small smirk.]

So I'm told. I'd hate think they were lying.

Could be from a deer.

[Said with a shrug and a slight bit of her normal cheekiness.]

Possibly, but I think I'd notice.

[A shrug.]

I’ve only had steak from a cow when I was in the Capitol. [She pauses as she remembers each and every meal. The food eaten as both tribute and Victor are difficult to forget.] And once in District Ten.

Well third time's the charm. The cook here is exceptional. No doubt it will be better than either time.

You've never been to the Capitol.

No. But I have had steak that was meant for a king.

[She doesn't want to feel happy. Not today. Not on her birthday. But it's hard not to laugh at Arthur's response.

He really has never been to the Capitol.]

The food there is fit for President Snow. For the government of Panem. I think it'd be fit for a king.

Then I suppose you'll just have to order some and decide for yourself.

[So there. Here comes the waitress. Arthur is going to order just that for himself. A nice cut of steak.]

[There's a challenge somewhere in that statement, isn't there? At least, she thinks so. And she doesn't look so pleased about it, even when her stomach rumbles again in hunger.

She should eat.

So when the waitress comes, she shrugs a little.] The same.

[Atta girl. He wears something of an arrogant smirk that she gave in. Of course, this means they get to wait. Which means... talking.]

So. How's hunting?

[Don't think she doesn't notice that smirk. She just... doesn't feel like commenting on it. Today.]

Okay.

[A little easier now, all things considered. Living in town means more regular access to the store. She still goes out to hunt almost every day, but it's not as necessary that she catch something now. There are other sources of food.]

[Well that's not much of an answer. He starts to sense something isn't right.]

... I've seen you in the village more often.

[She nods. There are a number of faces she's starting to recognize. Not just from the journals now, but from more of a day-to-day routine around the village.

There's no hiding it. She's stuck in the village now. But it's better for Rue. Easier for Peeta. She'll survive. She always does.]

Peeta couldn't live in the treehouse. Not with his leg.

[Peeta? He wondered if he had heard the name before.]

His leg? What's wrong with it?

[She can't remember what she's told Arthur of Panem. Most likely nothing. With the rare exception, she hasn't been very opened about her home. Most of the time, it's only when she's trying to explain her view of the Malnosso as Gamemakers. No one understands her repulsion of games otherwise.

Her face is stoic and she shakes her head just a little. How could she ever forget how Peeta had lost his leg?]

Prosthetic. It was too damaged, even for the Capitol doctors to repair.

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