President Snow had decided—or rather, been forced—to linger in District 12. His usual airs of grandeur and control seemed to falter slightly in this unfamiliar territory, but I knew the real reason for his extended stay: me. I was his daughter, and for some twisted reason, he wanted to hold on to that fact like a card in his game.
But I wasn't playing.
Katniss still didn't trust me. I couldn't blame her. Her fiery spirit was one of the many reasons I admired her, but it also made her hard to reach. I had to find a way to make things right, to show her that I was on her side.
That's when I had the idea.
Luxury food from the Capitol wasn't easy to come by in District 12, but I had resources most could only dream of. A few discreet calls, masked under layers of wind barriers to ensure no prying ears could hear, and I had it arranged.
A few days later, the delivery arrived—a beautifully packed crate filled with Capitol delicacies: fresh fruit, pastries, smoked meats, and cheeses that most people here had never seen. I carried it to Katniss's house, the weight heavy in my hands and heavier in my heart.
When she opened the door, her expression was unreadable. Peeta stood behind her, his face more open, though wary.
"I brought this for you," I said, placing the crate down gently. "I just… I wanted to help."
Katniss crossed her arms, her sharp eyes scanning me. "You think food will fix everything?"
"No," I admitted, my ears flattening slightly, tail drooping. "But it's a start."
A soft hiss came from my wrist. "That's it, keep it humble," Raven advised, his voice calm and soothing in my mind.
Katniss's gaze flicked to my wrist where Raven rested, his red, yellow, and black scales catching the light. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she sighed. "Fine. Bring it in."
Peeta offered a tentative smile as I stepped inside. "That's a good haul," he said, leaning down to inspect the crate.
"Don't get used to it," Katniss muttered, but there was no real bite to her words.
As we unpacked the food, Raven slithered from my wrist to the table, watching Peeta with an almost curious tilt to his head. Peeta glanced at him. "I don't know what it is about your snake, but he seems… I don't know, friendly?"
I chuckled softly. "He likes you."
"Peeta has good energy," Raven remarked, his tone approving.
Though Peeta couldn't hear him, he gave Raven a small nod, as if sensing the compliment.
Over the next few days, I spent more time with Katniss and Peeta. Slowly, cautiously, the tension began to ease. We explored District 12 together, Peeta always walking close to Katniss, and me trailing a step behind, Raven coiled loosely around my wrist.
Katniss showed me the meadow, her face softening as she spoke about her father teaching her to sing here. I could see the memories in her eyes, the flicker of something raw and beautiful that made my chest ache.
Peeta guided us through the Hub, explaining how the merchants bartered and traded. It was chaotic and noisy, but there was a strange charm to it, a rhythm I found myself appreciating.
For the first time in what felt like forever, there was peace.
But beneath it all, I could feel the looming weight of the Quarter Quell. Snow's presence in District 12 was a constant reminder of the Capitol's grip. And I knew, deep down, that this fragile harmony couldn't last.
