Option three
I own nothing but my own ideas.
I've written stories with her both intentionally and unintentionally ingesting the Nightlock. I once said something along the lines of she either knew or she didn't. That sort of rattled around in my head since 2013, and here's my attempt to try a third option with it. It might be a weird direction, but, hey, why not have fun with it.
It was a matter of luck.
Somehow, she wasn't dead. She was sure that Cato was going to kill her for attempting to trick him with poison. Instead he had laughed.
"Five, you are probably one of the only people left in this arena who might not have recognized it as poison. Don't you know it grows over most of Panem?"
No, she hadn't known that, actually. She doesn't tell him that. Instead, she looks around for a way out, though she didn't see anything promising the last time she tried. Her luck is not any better this time, though she has to keep trying. An opportunity might come, after all, and she has to be ready to take it.
"Do you know why they are called the hunger games? Yes it's because they are entertainment, but also traditionally at least one challenge of skill is played. "
He holds up six pocket knives. "I'm sure they had meant this for Clove. As she is not here, I hope I may be half as entertaining in her place. Of course, they don't show this anywhere but the Capitol, and usually its done with more people, but I guess we will just have to make do."
"What"
"Have you ever played mumblety peg?"
He asks her, giving her three of the knives.
She looks at them considering, and he laughs.
"Don't even try it Five. It won't end well for you."
That is unfortunately true. She doesn't have any of Cloves skill with throwing. And trying to rush Cato with one would be suicide. Even if he wasn't a career, he is stronger and has better reach then her.
"Alright, we will play the simplest version of it, as I doubt you could preform any sort of trick shot.
Take three big steps away from me, then turn and face me. We have to stand opposite to one another. And our feet have to be shoulder width apart. Then we take the knife, and throw it in to the ground as close to your foot as possible. If it bounces, or falls over, it doesn't count. We do this in turns, and the person who sticks the knife closest to their foot wins."
"What if you stick it in your foot."
"That is an automatic win. But, it impedes your ability to play the games, later, so I wouldn't recommend it."
"What would I win."
He picks up the berries she had tried to trick him with, using a handkerchief. Carefully he puts them in a jar. Then, he produces another jar. The berries in it look similar. Carefully, he takes some out, until there are the same amount as the Nightlock he had put in the other jar. Then he turns around and arranges them, for a bit, and when he steps away, she can't tell what one was the poison. Unless both are poison?
"These are perfectly edible." He says, taking the berries he had taken out of the jar, and eating them.
"Yours are not. The loser has to try their luck at eating a handful of berries from the jar. We play until one of us gets unlucky."
She has no real skill with throwing knives, but throwing them in the ground shouldn't be too hard. She's pretty sure any answer other then "yes" will result in her messy death.
She nods, takes three steps away, and copies the stance he is in.
"Ladies first" he calls out to her.
Her first shot, does not stay in the ground. She watches him carefully, and tries to copy his wrist movement.
Her second shot actually stays in the ground. His lands and stays right beside his left shoe. She swallows. She is going to have to try something crazy to win.
In the shoe was an automatic win, according to Cato's rules. If she made it, Cato might die. She would have to figure out some way to get rid of the 12s, maybe poison the water? She would have to think more on that later, right now she had to survive this game.
Carefully she lines up her shot, then throws it into her shoe. It pierces through the fabric, pierces her skin, but does not stick, and falls over. Her eyes fill with tears, she tries not to release.
His last shot lands on the other side of his shoe.
"I didn't think you would try that. I can almost respect you for it."
She approaches the jars with trepidation. What did Nightlock feel like? What differences did the non poisonous berries have from Nightlock? She can't see any, and that, more than anything, worries her.
Taking as little as possible in her hand, she brings the berries to her lips. Takes one last look around the area for an escape, but Cato is still blocking the exit.
Slowly she chews.
This time it wasn't poison.
Cato takes out as many Nightlock berries as she had taken out of the non poisonous ones. Then he switches the jars up, once again, restarting the game.
She tries to get a knife to stick in her foot three more times, over the next two rounds, the rest of it spent trying to get the knife to reliably stick and stand into the ground.
It takes on both an oddly dreamlike fear, sometimes, starkly contrasted by the very real pain and blood. The fear as she reaches into the jars again, heart beating loud in her ears as she chews. Up until,it reaches a crescendo. Her hands are shaking.
This time, she chews, and realizes she has made a mistake. They do not taste right.
Why did she swallow them! Why did she swallow them!
In round three, her luck runs out.
Not long after, a cannon shatters the silence.
"I see how you lasted this long, five."
The words echo in the aftermath of the shot. The tone could almost be called respectful.
Cato has already made sure to empty both jars, before leaving.
Probably not particularly IC, but it was fun to write. Also published on an anniversary of sorts for me