Fluid Heart, Firey Soul (Peeta Mellark x Reader)

Chapter 34 - The Uprising

The sight of the mockingjay, Peeta's bird baked into bread, made no sense. In the Capitol, it was a fashion statement worn by its citizens. So what does it mean that it's being displayed in this way?

"What is this?" I ask cautiously, my eyes flickering between the strange woman standing before me and the small cracker with the mockingjay imprinted on it.

"It means we're on your side. You and Peeta," another voice answers from behind me. I didn't even realize there was someone else. I don't have anything to defend myself. I suppose I could lunge for the gun, but I stop myself. This person could be armed as well, ready to kill me at any moment.

"Come around where I can see you," I order, trying to keep my voice steady. The sound of a step and a dragging noise follow as this person slowly moves into view. It takes a lot of effort for them to walk, and when they finally come into focus, I see a girl about my age. She's dressed in a Peacekeeper's uniform, complete with a white fur cloak, but it's clearly several sizes too large for her slight frame. There's no weapon in her hands; instead, she leans on a crutch made from a broken branch. I study her face, noting the redness from the cold air and the soft pink birthmark over one brown eye. It's obvious that she's not a Peacekeeper or even from the Capitol. 

"Who are you?" I ask, still wary.

"I'm Twill," says the woman. She appears to be in her mid-thirties. "And this is Bonnie. We've run away from District Eight." The younger girl beside her nods.

District 8. They must know about the uprisings then!

"Where did you get those uniforms?" I ask them. They hardly look like soldiers. And I doubt they killed a Peacekeeper for them. 

"I stole them from the factory," Bonnie admits. "We make them there. Only I thought this one would be for... for someone else. That's why it fits so poorly."

"The gun came from a dead Peacekeeper," Twill adds, noticing my eyes focused on the weapon that sits on the ground by her feet. 

"And the cracker in your hand? With the bird? What's that about?" I ask.

"Don't you know, (Y/N)?" Bonnie sounds genuinely surprised. They recognize me? Of course, they do. My face was broadcast across Panem through this last year and I'm standing here outside of District 12 with my face uncovered. Who else could I be?

"I know it matches Peeta's necklace," I say. "The one he wore throughout our tour."

"She doesn't know," Bonnie mutters softly. "She doesn't know about any of it."

I feel a desperate need to appear knowledgeable. "I know you had an uprising in District Eight," I tell them.

"Yes, that's why we had to flee," says Twill.

"Well, you're out now. What are your plans" I ask.

"We're on our way to District Thirteen," Twill responds, her words holding a hint of hope.

"Thirteen? But it was obliterated decades ago. Blown off the map," I retort.

"Seventy-five years ago," Twill says.

Bonnie shifts uncomfortably on her crutch, wincing in pain.

"What's wrong with your leg?" I inquire.

"I twisted my ankle. My boots are too big," Bonnie says sheepishly.

Even though they're strangers, something about their body language and expressions tells me that they're telling the truth. And behind that truth lies a treasure trove of valuable information. I take a step forward and retrieve Twill's gun off the ground. It's a foreign object to me. Every mechanism is so unique and intricately crafted. The seal of Panem glints on the barrel. "Is anyone following you?" I press on.