Dew of the Sea [Finnick Odair]

[17. Exploration]

Day 10

Rye

He was finally feeling better. His wound was scabbing over nicely–according to his sister who checked on it three times a day–and his fever had gone almost as soon as he drank the anti-venom. They started moving again the next day, and he found traveling much easier than the days before when he was sick with infection from the mutt's venom. While he and Rosemary traveled in the middle of their four-Tribute group, Xavier in the lead and Kyler in the back, he found himself thinking about how he survived.

He shouldn't have survived.

The fact that Rosemary went to such lengths to save his life was unsurprising, but Xavier and Kyler? They had no obligation to him and though he and Xavier had been allies for going on a week, they were still in the Hunger Games. It even seemed that Haymitch was determined to get him better, sending him–and only him–bowls of warm broth and rolls that he insistently shared with the others, and an ice pick so they could collect water more easily from the frozen river. He never sent Rosemary anything and by the way she gave no reaction to the dismissal, he knew that she knew what was going on and why it was going on.

By the middle of tenth day in the frozen arena, Rye came to the conclusion that Haymitch had chosen his Tribute and it was him.

He was not actively trying to win the Hunger Games and would rather that his sister be the Victor than himself, but a tiny part of him hoped that he could make it out of the arena alive. And that tiny piece of him made him hate himself. Everytime he helped his sister set traps to catch rabbits and listened intently to her words as she showed him which plants were edible and which were not, the white hot guilt in his stomach threatened to boil him alive.

Rye loved his life. He loved himself. He loved his family and friends and Kline. He was well-liked and athletic and he could bake, but he wasn't his sister. Rosemary, he knew, from the moment they met as an infant and a two-year-old, was bound for something great. He didn't know what that something great was, but she was just destined for it. She was smart, wickedly smart, and compassionate, and inventive, and even if she didn't think so, she was the bravest person that Rye knew. She deserved to live.

Rosemary had asked Rye to fight, to win. And he would, he would fight to make sure she won the Games. Even if he had to kill every other Tribute left alive, even if he had to kill himself, Rosemary would win.

"I think these are enough to last us for lunch and dinner," Rosemary held the edible plants she picked like a wedding bouquet.

The siblings had split from Xavier and Kyler to find the leafy side of dinner, while the boys checked the traps that they set the night before.

Rye nodded in agreement. "With all the dandelions we've choked down lately, I wouldn't be surprised if we started turning yellow."

"Oh no, the chlorophyll doesn't affect the body," Rosemary said, not noticing that Rye was joking. "If you eat too much dandelion, at most you'll get nauseous or have diarrhea or heartburn."