The Princess of Panem | Finnick Odair x oc

XVI

The control room hums with the quiet sound of machinery, but my focus is on the screen showing Katniss and Rue. Rue, the girl from 11. So small and fragile-looking, she moves with the grace and confidence of someone who knows the land. She's gathered handfuls of broad leaves, mashing them into a paste between her tiny hands. Her fingers are nimble and practiced, belying her youth. Despite the danger all around her, she remains calm and steady, applying the makeshift poultice to Katniss's swollen stings with care and precision.

Katniss, though she does not wake up, winces as the cool paste touches her skin.  Rue's touch is gentle, soothing. It's hard to believe that this small, soft-spoken girl is a tribute in the Hunger Games, where brutality and strength often determine who lives and who dies. But Rue's strength lies elsewhere—in her knowledge, her compassion. Watching her, I'm reminded of the harsh contrast between her innocence and the savagery of the world around her.

Finnick watches too, leaning forward in his chair. "She's a smart one," he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the screen. "She knows exactly what she's doing."

"Yeah," I reply, my voice soft. "She's so... young. How can anyone expect her to survive this?"

Finnick doesn't answer right away, his gaze flickering between Rue's delicate hands and Katniss's slowly calming face. When he finally speaks, his tone is laced with a grim understanding. "They're all young. The Capitol just makes us forget that until we're forced to watch them fight for their lives."

Rue finishes tending to Katniss's wounds, wiping her hands on her skirt, which is already stained with dirt and the dark green juice of crushed leaves. 

Katniss is still unconscious, her body limp, but her breathing seems a little steadier now. Rue sits back on her heels, watching her carefully, as if waiting for any sign of improvement. When none comes, she sighs softly and stands, her gaze sweeping the area. She's searching for more plants, I realize, more remedies that might help.

Without a word, Rue slips away into the forest again, leaving Katniss alone in the clearing.

The hours stretch on, the sky above the arena darkening as night falls. I watch as Rue returns, her arms full of more leaves, more plants. She moves quickly and quietly, her small figure blending into the shadows. She checks on Katniss again, adjusting the poultices she's placed on the stings, smoothing back her hair with a tenderness that makes my chest tighten.

Katniss doesn't stir, doesn't wake, but Rue doesn't seem discouraged. She sits beside her, keeping watch, her wide eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger.

Time passes slowly, agonizingly, and I can't tear my eyes away from the screen. I'm waiting for something—anything—to happen. For Katniss to wake up. For Rue to say something. For the tension in my chest to ease. But nothing changes. The arena is quiet, save for the distant sounds of the Games, the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees.

Rue disappears into the forest again, and I watch her go, a strange mix of admiration and sorrow swirling in my chest. She's so young, so sweet, and yet she's been forced to grow up too fast, to learn how to survive in a world that wants to destroy her.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to push away the overwhelming sense of helplessness that's settled over me. I'm supposed to be Katniss's mentor, supposed to be helping her, guiding her. But all I can do is watch from a distance, powerless to do anything more.

When I open my eyes again, Rue has returned, and she's sitting beside Katniss once more. She hums softly under her breath, a sweet, soothing melody that I can barely hear through the speakers. It's a lullaby, I realize, something gentle and familiar that seems to calm even the tension in my own chest.

Katniss stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she starts to wake. My heart leaps in my chest, and I sit up straighter, my eyes locked on the screen. She's waking up.

Rue stops humming, leaning closer to Katniss, her expression filled with relief. When Katniss's eyes finally open, she blinks up at Rue in confusion, her gaze hazy with exhaustion.

"Rue?" Katniss murmurs, her voice weak and hoarse.

Rue smiles softly, nodding. "It's okay," she says gently. "You've been out for a while. But I've been taking care of you."

Katniss frowns, trying to make sense of her surroundings. "How long...?"

"A couple of days," Rue replies, her tone calm and reassuring. "You got stung pretty bad, I changed the herbs a few times. You're going to be okay."

Katniss looks at her for a long moment, and I can see the gratitude in her eyes, the way her expression softens as she realizes what Rue has done for her. Despite everything, despite the horrors of the arena, Rue has been there for her, taking care of her when she was at her most vulnerable.

"Thank you," Katniss whispers, her voice raspy from the venom and the pain. She struggles to sit up, and Rue immediately moves to help her, propping her up gently.

Rue shakes her head. "Don't try to move too much. You need to rest."

Katniss gives her a weak smile, clearly grateful but still determined. "I don't have time to rest," she replies, though her voice betrays her exhaustion. 

She looks away for a moment, lost in thought. When she turns back to Rue, there's a new resolve in her eyes. "We'll get through this," she says, her voice firmer now. "Both of us. From now on we'll stick together. We'll look out for each other."

Rue nods, her smile turning hopeful. 

As they eat what Katniss has hunted for them, Rue teaches her about the plants in the arena, showing her which berries are safe to eat and which leaves can soothe burns or cuts. Katniss listens carefully, absorbing everything Rue says, knowing that this knowledge could be the difference between life and death.

It's clear that Rue has been surviving on her own for a while now. She's used to being small, to hiding in the shadows, to staying out of sight. But with Katniss, she seems to relax just a little, as if the weight of being alone has been lifted, even if only for a moment.

At one point, Katniss gently touches the leaves Rue applied to her stings. "These... they really helped. You saved my life."

Rue shakes her head, her smile modest. "It's what I know. I've always liked plants more than people. Plants don't want to hurt you."

They settle into a companionable silence after that, each lost in their own thoughts. Katniss rests, regaining her strength, while Rue keeps watch, her sharp eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger. Despite her youth, there's a kind of wisdom in Rue, a knowledge born from living a life where survival is never guaranteed. She's seen more than any child should have to see, but she still clings to her kindness, her gentleness. It's what sets her apart in this brutal world.

As the night deepens, they huddle together for warmth, and Katniss wraps an arm around Rue, holding her close. Rue's head rests against Katniss's shoulder, and for a moment, they both look like they're just two girls, not tributes in a deadly game. It's a rare moment of peace, of humanity, in a place designed to strip them of both.

I watch them on the screen, my heart heavy with the knowledge of what's to come. This alliance, this friendship, is beautiful, but it's also fragile. The Games won't allow it to last. I glance at Finnick, who's watching with a similar expression—a mixture of admiration and sorrow.

"They're just kids," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the control room.

Finnick nods, his gaze never leaving the screen. "Yeah. They are. But that's the Capitol's game, isn't it? To make us forget that."

I swallow hard, the weight of his words sinking in. Rue and Katniss may have found a moment of peace, a bond in the midst of chaos, but the Capitol won't let it last. And all I can do is watch, helpless, as the Games continue.