The Rebel Queen

2

By the time Duke ducks into the camp, I feel like I'm about to fall off of the horse's back. My head is pounding from being thrown off the horse and the pieces of shrapnel are now stinging like a thousand bee stings, my adrenaline finally having worn off. I feel like I'm about to slide off as a strong arm holds me upright.

"You okay?" Peeta asks and I glance at him. I shake my head and sit up a little. 

"Yeah," I say. "I'm just starting to feel my injuries after sitting still so long." 

"What do you need?" He asks and I look around the camp, seeing several medics treating the new refugees. I see the painted priestess, Tigress walking towards us and nod to her.

"To see that my people are okay," I say, watching as Tigress walks up.

"You are the last to arrive," She says, her implanted whiskers twitching a little. "As always."

"You know I don't like to see things unfinished, Tigress," I say and her golden eyes glint a little.

"She needs her wounds treated," Peeta says and I glance at him.

"I'm fine," I reply and Tigress tuts. She steps closer and grabs onto a piece of metal sticking out of my thigh. As she yanks it out of my leg, rather roughly if I must admit, I grit my teeth and let out a hissing breath.

"Yes, clearly," She says before looking over at my companion. "Make Her Highness take you to her tent. It's the large one with the red bird painted on the canopy. I'll meet you both there with treatments for your injuries." I roll my eyes and feel Peeta's arm leave my waist. He slides off the horse and reaches for me. Ismack his hand away and swing myself off, groaning as I wrench my arm. Duke turns his head to look at me and I stroke his nose. The livery keeper, a former blacksmith from District five, comes with a rope.

"Did he ride well, Milady?" He asks and I nod as he loops the braided fiber over Duke's neck, I pat the horse and nod.

"He always has," I say, "But he stumbled in the field and was with me near a blast. Please check him over and make sure his wounds are treated, Darius."

"Of course, Milady," He says, starting to lead the horse away. I look over at Peeta and sigh. 

"Come with me," I say, walking past him and towards the large hide covered tent I call my home. Pull back the opening with my uninjured arm and duck in. 

"You have a lot to explain," Peeta says, following me in. I limp over to my trunk and sit down on it. 

"What is there to explain?" I say. He walks around me, shaking head.

"You are the Mockingjay," He says and I roll my eyes, chuckling. "Queen of the Rebels with a bounty on her head greater than the worth of all of District Two." 

"Is it really that high?" I ask. "Last I checked I was only worth the lumber of District Seven." I look over my arm and shrug off my quiver. Pulling out one of my broken arrows from the soft leather pouch, I start to use the tip to dig some of the smaller bits of foreign material from my skin. Most are just little flesh wounds and scrapes anyway.

"You act as though it is a joke," Peeta says and I look up at him, studying his confused face.

"Well, it is," I say. "I'm just an eighteen year old girl, fighting for her freedom. That is all. Others may follow if they wish, see something in what I do. That is their choice to make, after all." I set down my weapon and stand up, slowly. I look up at Peeta as he towers over me. He has grown tall, with a stocky, strong build. His blonde hair, which was so bright and golden when he was a child, is now an ashy color, though he still has the slight wave of the curls that once resided on his bow. His face is sharper, more angular than before. A handsome face, one must admit. "Beyond what the people make me into, I am nothing. Had I never stepped in these woods, for all we know, no one would ever have heard of the Mockingjay." Peeta stares at me, struggling to find something to say further.