Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork. The song the "Twelve Days of Christmas" is public domain and based off of an Old English Folk Song.
The Twelve Days of the Hunger Games
By Fanfic Allergy
oOo
On the First Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
A Partridge with Pear Jelly.
Finnick Odair was surprised to receive a gift so soon after the bloodbath ended. It wasn't normal, but as his mentor, Mags, told him his looks weren't normal either. Flashing a cheeky grin that he hoped conveyed the right combination of gratitude and arrogance he tore a leg off of the partridge and bit into it in what he hoped was a flirtatious way. It couldn't hurt to court the Capitol audiences.
oOo
On the Second Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
Finnick Odair was surprised to get a second gift at a little after noon on the second day of the Games. He didn't really need one since he'd joined the Career Pack as planned and they had plenty of food and weapons. Opening the package up, he saw two pairs of gloves: one lacy with no fingers, the other warm woolen ones like the kind he'd seen people in northern districts wearing on the various propos. He tossed the lace ones to his district partner and put the second set into his pack. Under the gloves was another container holding another partridge. Shrugging his shoulders at the repetition, he helped himself to some of the breast meat before passing the food around to the rest of his allies. Better stay on their good side for now.
oOo
On the Third Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
"Another one?" his district partner asked him as the little silver parachute floated down to Finnick.
He shrugged. "I must have a secret admirer," he answered, flashing the grin he knew the Capitol audiences loved. But on the inside, Finnick Odair was as confused as the girl standing watch with him.
He opened the gift to find three small knife handles with little buttons on them. At the touch of his thumb, a small blade about three inches long, sprung out of the handle. It wasn't a long enough of a blade to be all that useful as a weapon so he was even more confused that someone would send him one. Let alone three. Under the switchblades, there were two more pairs of gloves. One pair had knitted snowmen on them while the other pair was plain white cotton. Neither of them were very good for survival.
His partner wrinkled her nose. "Your admirer has crap taste."
He didn't say anything as he pulled out the final gift. The partridge with pear jelly.
"But at least we don't have to waste our time with hunting or gathering," she amended when she saw the bird.
"Who said I was going to share this with you?" Finnick asked.
"Me, if you know what's good for you."
Handing her the bird and one of the switchblades, he wondered what the next day was going to bring.
oOo
On the Fourth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
Finnick Odair was alone when he got his fourth sponsorship gift. He eyed it curiously wondering if the theme of useless items would continue.
He opened the package to find that, yes, indeed they did.
He sighed. Inside of the container were four spools of wire ranging in thickness and color and quantity greeted him. Some of it would be good for setting snares, but most was too thin and shiny.
He pulled out the switchblades and the pairs of gloves, one of them in thin dark leather, the other brightly colored calico with butterflies and flowers on them. The leather ones he pulled on. Then he went about setting a few snares with the one spool of useful wire.
He hoped he would catch something. He was starting to get sick of partridge.
oOo
On the Fifth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
Finnick Odair was not as fortunate as the previous day when his gift arrived. Instead of coming while he was alone or with one of his allies, it arrived just as he was facing off against the boy from Twelve. He'd stumbled over the thin tribute, quite literally, when he was on his way to the bathroom. Alone and without most of his weapons, he was almost evenly matched against the older boy with black hair.
Then the parachute arrived.
The boy looked at it in confusion and Finnick rolled his eyes. "Excuse me a moment."
"I don't think so," the boy rumbled, brandishing the tree branch he was holding as a weapon menacingly.
"Oh would you stop that! I can almost guarantee nothing in this will hurt you." Then a horrible idea struck him. "In fact, why don't you take it? I'm not really in the mood to fight at the moment."
The tribute from Twelve looked even more confused.
"Go on," Finnick said with a little shooing motion. "I promise not to jump you."
The other boy shrugged and opened the package. Finnick could see the confusion on the other tribute's face. The boy looked at him and then back at the gift. "What are your sponsors smoking?" he asked, completely baffled by the contents.
"I have no idea," Finnick answered honestly.
"Who in the hell sends jewelry to a tribute in the Games? Let alone five mockingjay pins?" the other boy continued as if he hadn't heard Finnick. "And gloves. And wire? Dude, your gift sucks."
Finnick grinned. "Not my gift. Yours. You earned it!" Giving the boy a jaunty salute, he turned on his heels and sprinted away through the woods. "Be seeing you!"
The sounds of the boy from Twelve swearing followed him all the way back to camp.
oOo
On the Sixth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
"Hey Odair! You've got another one!" his ally from Two called out, pointing at the silver parachute falling from the sky.
His district partner looked up from where she was lounging. "How many is that now?" There was an undeniable hint of jealousy in her tone.
For his part, Finnick just grunted. "Too many," he answered. "You want it?"
She shook her head. "Not if it's junk like last time."
Finnick nodded and went to retrieve his package.
Walking a little bit away from the rest of his alliance he opened the gift. Six rocks of varying sizes greeted him. "Someone up there has a sense of humor," he muttered to himself. He discarded the rocks next to him carelessly and pulled out the five mockingjay pins next. These were shoved in a pocket. If nothing else they could hold his clothing together if they got torn.
Picking the rocks back up he put them in the box and carried it back over to his allies. "Here, help yourself, since we're allies and all," he said, setting the box down on the ground next to his three remaining allies: the girl from One, the boy from Two, and his district partner.
The girl from One pulled out one of the rocks and looked at it. "You've got shitty sponsors, Odair."
The boy from Two took out another rock and examined it. "Not too shitty. This is flint. Strike it with something iron or steel and you can make a fire."
"Whatever," Finnick said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm going to take my partridge and go over here for a nap. Wake me when we're going to go hunting."
He wondered how many more days of this he had left.
oOo
On the Seventh Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
The alliance had broken and it was now every tribute for themselves. Finnick suspected his sponsorship gifts were part of the reason the Career Pack broke up earlier than expected. There were still seven non-Career tributes out there but tensions had been rising for the last three days.
Finnick shrugged. It wasn't his fault someone crazy was sending him useless gifts. Even the partridge was only good for a day and wasn't enough to fill him up. He wondered if he was going to get another gift and if this one would be useful.
As if it were able to read his thoughts, a silver parachute floated down next to him.
Rolling his eyes, he opened the gift and goggled. "Floats? You've got to be kidding?" But the package didn't change. Lying on top of the other gifts were seven bright orange floats like the kind used by swimming teachers in Four wrapped around the kids' upper arms to keep them from sinking. Finnick was already a good swimmer and hadn't needed floats like that in almost ten years. But even worse in his mind was that this Arena didn't have any large bodies of water. Only a small stream about a foot deep and a few springs.
Looking up at the sky he cried, "Why are you doing this to me?"
There was no response.
oOo
On the Eighth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Eight Hooks for Fishing,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
"Oh for fuck's sake! Really! Fishhooks!" he exploded in frustration. He stalked away from the gift, not even bothering to see what else was in the basket.
When the boy from Twelve happened upon it later, he chuckled and helped himself to the useful items. Then he slipped off into the woods, following Finnick's tracks. No point in letting things go to waste.
oOo
On the Ninth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Nine Shoes for Dancing,
Eight Hooks for Fishing,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
With a feeling of dread, Finnick opened his gift for the day. He'd considered not bothering, but he was hungry and if nothing else there was the partridge.
Nine shoes lay on top of the pile of gifts. Nine mismatched, different sized, some very clearly female shoes.
He picked up a high heeled shoe about three sizes too small for his foot in bright pink and looked at it in disgust. What were his mentors thinking?
"Someone up there either really loves you or really hates you, Four," the voice of the tribute from Twelve rang out.
Finnick jumped to his feet, startled at the interruption. The older boy just smirked at him, cleaning under his nails with one of the switchblades he'd taken from Finnick's care package.
"What are you doing here?" Finnick asked, clearly wary.
The other boy snorted. "Seeing what kind of crap your sponsors send you next. From what I'm seeing from here, it makes me glad I don't have any."
"They aren't so bad!" Finnick felt compelled to say. "Some of it's pretty useful!"
"Yeah right, Cinderella."
"Why'd you call me that?"
The boy motioned to the brightly colored shoe in Finnick's hands. "Looks an awful lot like a glass slipper to me. A bit too pink to be ruby slippers."
Angered at the insinuation, Finnick hurled the offending shoe at the other tribute.
The boy dodged easily before flipping a jaunty salute to Finnick and slipping back into the trees.
"I'm going to kill him," Finnick muttered to himself while gathering up what he wanted from the basket and leaving the rest. "I swear, I'm going to kill him."
oOo
On the Tenth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Ten Ropes for Leaping,
Nine Shoes for Dancing,
Eight Hooks for Fishing,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
Finnick checked the area one last time to make sure that the annoying tribute from Twelve wasn't standing around watching him before crossing his fingers and opening the sponsorship gift. What he saw shocked him.
On top of the box were ten coils of various kinds of rope. Everything from thin hemp rope like the kind they used back home to make fishing nets to the hi-tech nylon rope that they had in the Training Center. He smiled. This gift he could use.
Settling himself against a tree, he pulled out the hemp rope and started to weave, an idea forming in his mind.
Even the mismatched children's shoes and sequined gloves couldn't dampen his spirit.
Finnick was a tribute with a plan.
oOo
On the Eleventh Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Eleven Knives-a-Cutting,
Ten Ropes for Leaping,
Nine Shoes for Dancing,
Eight Hooks for Fishing,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
For the first time in several days, Finnick didn't view the approaching sponsorship gift with dread. He needed and wanted more rope for the net traps he was constructing. Even the wire would be useful as trip wire to get the remaining tributes into his nets.
His family was a fishing family, most were in Four. So he knew that sometimes the best way to catch a fish was to herd it into a trap where it couldn't escape. That was his plan now and even the pointless gifts had a use - distraction.
He opened the package eagerly to get to the rope and gasped at what was inside. Eleven wickedly sharp knives gleamed up at him. Just like every other gift, they weren't matching. But in this case, it was a good thing. There were hunting knives, machetes, serrated knives, curved knives, even a boning knife, all of them sharp and deadly.
Now he had weapons.
Pulling a length of rope out to weave the next net, he smiled to himself.
It wouldn't be long now.
oOo
On the Twelfth Day of the Hunger Games,
My Sponsors sent to me,
Twelve Arrows Shooting,
Eleven Knives-a-Cutting,
Ten Ropes for Leaping,
Nine Shoes for Dancing,
Eight Hooks for Fishing,
Seven Floats for Swimming,
Six Flints-a-Flaming,
Five Mockingjay Pins,
Four Coils of Wire,
Three Switchblades,
Two Pairs of Gloves,
And a Partridge with Pear Jelly.
His trap was ready. He'd spread several nets around the small clearing he'd staked out as his home base. There were drop nets suspended over the trails leading to his clearing in strategic spots and hidden nets tied to bent down saplings to catch anyone or anything that wandered into them. He had trip wires and choke wires set up and even a few false wires that if cut would trigger a log or other heavy object to land on whoever cut the wire.
He used some of the shoes and floats as decoys to lure unsuspecting tributes into his nets. Now he just needed the tributes to come to him.
He admitted it wasn't the best plan and if the remaining six tributes didn't come looking for him soon, the Gamemakers were probably going to force him to go on the move and give up his advantage. He wouldn't mind so much if he had a weapon he was proficient with, like a trident or a spear, instead of a knife. But this solution was the best he could come up with.
He was a little surprised to see a sponsorship package floating his way. After the ropes and knives, he couldn't imagine what was left to send him.
He opened the package and couldn't keep the confusion off of his face. Nestled on top of the knives and ropes were twelve arrows of varying lengths and composition. There were short crossbow bolts and longer arrows fletched with feathers. Twelve arrows.
And no bow.
He tilted his head back and yelled at the sky, "Why don't you send me a weapon I can actually use? You know, like a trident or a spear!"
He didn't really expect anyone to respond. No one had the other times he'd yelled at the sponsors. But this time he heard the tell tale sound of an approaching sponsorship gift. He looked up and hanging from the parachute was a richly decorated and deadly looking trident.
He grabbed it out of midair and removed the parachute. The weapon was perfectly weighted as if it had been made especially for him. He hoisted it and gave a few experimental thrusts and smiled. It wasn't a kind smile.
After he ate the partridge, he was going to go hunting and no tribute was going to stand in his way. As he bit into the still warm bird, he couldn't help but feel that all of the annoying gifts and trials had been worth it.
Because on the twelfth day of the Hunger Games he was going to go home.
oOo
AN:
Written: December 7, 2013
Revised: December 25, 2013
Beta read by Rosefyre
So that happened. It all started out innocently enough, while chatting with RoseFyre I hit on the idea of this fic and she, being the enabler that she is, said "DO IT!" So I did. Finnick got cast as the poor tribute who was going to get all of these gifts, mostly because he's the one who clearly got the most sponsors in canon. The items were all things that could be useful, except weren't in most cases. It's fun torturing the characters we love.
The boy from Twelve wasn't planned on being a snark-monster but he just evolved. I needed someone to be the audience commentator and the Careers weren't going to do it for me.
I hope you enjoyed!
Happy Holidays!