The characters of the The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.

This drabble takes place during Peeta and Prim's time in the Arena and is briefly mentioned in Chapter Seven.

Fallen Queen, A Look to the West Outtake

"Makidada…"

I don't know why I spend my time watching them in that cave. Prim looks listless, tired, and weak, the dark circles under her sunken eyes haunting my nightmares.

Despite this, it brings me comfort when she calls my nickname, at least I know that she's alive.

"Prim, when can we go home?" His soft voice echoes in their cave. "I want…I want…Ka—" My gaze goes to his fevered body, lying on the cold, hard ground as he rests his head on Prim's lap.

"Shhh…" Prim whispers, her hand going to his forehead. "You have to rest. I know what you want." There's an assuredness in her eyes. "Don't worry, I hear you, Peeta. Till the end." She drifts off, her eyes concentrated on bringing our blonde-haired friend's fever down.

I stand around with the rest of District 12 as we watch our Tributes. My sister, so lovely, under the firelight that she built with the last of their dry wood. Peeta, though fevered from an infected stab wound, is just as handsome though his jaw is locked in pain.

"They really look beautiful together," one of the older Merchant women says to someone beside her. "Despite her being from the Seam side, she could easily be one of us. Just think—if they win, they would be given a Capitol wedding."

"Peeta is a sweet boy," her companion remarks. "He'll make a good husband and father."

That hurt.

Because I can take the remarks about the golden beauty of District 12 Tributes.

What I can't take is the thought of him being someone else's husband.

I know that Prim doesn't think of Peeta in any way other than a friend. I hope he feels the same way.

Because every look we've shared wasn't just friendship.

Peeta should be mine.

Because I am his.

Whether he knows it or not.

"You hear that crap?" I find Gale standing next to me, his eyes on the screen above us. "Like those two would ever get together." He crosses his arms, glaring at the women that were speaking. They quickly walk off at his icy glare. "Prim would never."

He fiddles with the red bracelet around his wrist. My sister spent weeks working on the skinny band, braiding its thin tendrils and securing the knot to Gale's specific wrist measurement.

"Neither would Peeta," I respond brusquely.

Turning, I push through the crowd.

Who cares what the townspeople say? To them, I am nothing.

However, to the two people on that screen, I am someone.

I am Prim's twin, her younger sister by only minutes. Her heart beats in-sync with mine.

Sometimes I think that if she dies then so will I.

To Peeta, I am his friend—his loyal Western Queen.

I still remember the moment I realized that I wasn't going to be anyone else's—only his. We were twelve and in the middle of our Kingdom, we laid together among the trees. My hand reached to brush that new roughness on his chin, welcoming that blossoming of manhood emerging from Peeta.

He would be a handsome man, I already knew.

His hand went to brush a stray hair from my face and that softly-singing hunger that always hummed in his presence burst forth in a full song at his touch.

This kind of feeling just doesn't happen with just anyone. It only happened to us.

I find myself sobbing against the fence that blocks off our Kingdom.

Here I am, a Fallen Queen.

"Katniss…" I look up to see Gale looking at me piteously. If there anything I hate, it's pity. "Are you really going to let those women get to you?"

"Don't act like you haven't thought about it either," I spit out at him, tears and anger rushing out of me. "I know they're loyal but one of them could die, Gale. If not one, then maybe both." I feel a sob rise from my throat once more. "Peeta…Prim…I-I just don't know what is going to happen to—"

Gale is suddenly pressing his mouth against mine. It happens so quickly that I can't even react to the strange sensation.

This wasn't at all how my first kiss was supposed to go.

I jerk away and stare at the boy before me. "How could you?"

Gale looks confused for a moment. As if he had no idea as to what he had done to me—and to Prim.

"Katniss…I just can't get her out of my head," he responds in a sad whisper. "And, I thought if I can't ever have her kiss than yours is a good enough second."

"It shouldn't be just good enough!" I argue.

I want to hit Gale. I want to yell at him. I want to tell him that I had nothing to offer Peeta but the chance for him to know that I am his only one because he is mine.

Gale took that from me.

"I'm sorry," Gale says, his grey eyes anguished. He crumbles before me. "She's supposed to be mine."

"And, I want to be his," I respond. "I will be his, even if he never knows it."

I look to the forest, stepping under the wire that is never on, and I run.

I know Gale won't follow. He's messed up and he's going to wallow; it's what I detest most about him.

I run all the way to the end of the world.

Or, at least where my world ends.

Our Kingdom.

I go to my tree, my beautiful Westward Birch and rest against it, trying to steel myself from the inevitable.

Peeta and Prim might die. Or, one of them will.

Or, if we are truly lucky, they both live.

However, are they going to be the same people? Will they still love me the same way? After all that is said and done?

Without them, there is no reason for me to keep going.

"I'm sorry," I say into the quiet air, the cold causing the tears on my face to feel like ice. "I'M SORRY!"

As if they can hear me.

I feel like I've been gone as soon as they entered that Arena, anyway.

I look at Peeta's tree and then Prim's, as if they are substitutes for the actual beings.

"Whatever happens," I say wearily. "I'm still going to love you both. Always."

Wrapped in the protection of my throne, I sleep.

FIN.

Drabble requests are always welcomed. My next one will involve a painting scene described in the epilogue.