Nightlock
Katniss
Katniss wakes with her head still on Harry’s chest this time, but she can see that maybe yesterday morning was part of a pattern. Random comments from boys about “morning wood” make a lot more sense all of a sudden. Harry’s still asleep, so she takes a moment to think about their… activities last night.
She remembers thinking “Fuck it, we could die tomorrow, and the Capitol already thinks we’re fucking,” and cringes. Yeah, the orgasm was spectacular, but having to take turns going out in the rain to clean up was uncomfortable on so many levels. She decides they will not be repeating their actions while they’re still in the Arena.
Then she spends way too long thinking about what they could do after the Arena, and she has to sneak back outside to clean her underwear again.
<SMUT WARNING ENDS>
It’s storming even harder now, the rain coming down in buckets. She tries to minimize the amount of water she lets through the opening in the tarp, but muddy pools are starting to form among the debris.
Harry’s awake when she returns. They stay in the tent to eat breakfast – bits of squirrel with greens and berries that Harry tells her Luna helped him snare and gather. Katniss really wants to get back in view of the camera, but honestly, it reeks in the cave now. The stench is starting to seep into the tent. This storm cannot end soon enough.
Harry is the first to speak. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up last night. “I wonder what Draco and Blaise are up to in this downpour.” As if in response, lightning flashes through the tarp and tent, followed swiftly by a thundering boom that vibrates their shelter.
“I just hope the tree doesn’t get struck,” Katniss mumbles. It’s a very real concern. They won’t survive a direct hit, and the tree could catch fire even with an indirect one. The rain might not be enough to put it out.
Harry’s brow wrinkles with a frown. “The nearby pines are much taller; hopefully, we’ll be safe.” That’s comforting. He definitely knows the area better than she does – she was too busy worrying about him to really take anything else in, both when she found him and after the Feast.
“Well, whenever it ends, we need to go hunting,” she says, trying to force false cheer into her voice.
“I’ll have to show you everything Luna taught me,” Harry says with a wistful smile. “She was a dab hand with snares, and she knew everything there was to know about edible plants.”
Katniss wonders, just for a second, if Harry may have had romantic feelings towards Luna. But no, he seemed to view the girl from 10 the same way Katniss viewed Rue: like a little sister, someone to protect.
They spend the day alternating between their comfortable silences, and stories about the two girls they lost. Every anecdote seems to lessen the grief a little. It helps to have each other to lean on.
They’re just finishing dinner – half of what remains of their picnic – when the anthem starts. It’s Harry’s turn to poke his head out. “There won’t be anything to see,” Katniss calls from inside the tent, “we would’ve heard the cannon.”
Harry’s face is grave when he returns, and Katniss’s heart sinks as she realizes she was wrong. “Blaise is dead,” he tells her. She just nods, defeated. “We must have missed the cannon with all the thunder.”
It’s depressing, but not unexpected. She tries not to think about Blaise letting her go, tries to focus on the fact that they only have two enemies remaining, but a tear trickles out of her eye. Harry hugs her close.
“It’s just… if anyone else had to win, I wanted…” she chokes out, trying not to sob.
“I know,” says Harry quietly, stroking her hair.
The storm stops overnight.
Harry
The morning after the storm, Harry wakes before Katniss, rolls away from her immediately, and forces himself to picture Dudley naked. This is getting ridiculous, he thinks to himself, but there’s not a whole hell of a lot that he can do about it.
Katniss blinks awake a few minutes later, and they polish off the last of the sponsors’ feast. They only have a few non-perishables left: one meal and two snack MREs, and some crackers and jerky that Katniss got from the Cornucopia. Hunting and gathering will be the priorities for the day.
They pack up their camp, distributing their resources between Harry’s tent pack and the hydration pack, which he gives to Katniss. They leave her bright-orange backpack behind, buried in the muddy bowl – it’s too noticeable to keep wearing when she has other options.
After climbing out of Luna’s cave, Harry automatically starts swinging through the trees, then looks back when he realizes Katniss isn’t following. He swings back to her side. She’s staring at him in open-mouthed shock.
“How– I– You– What?!” she splutters. Oh.
“Luna taught me, and Rue taught her,” he explains. She blinks at him a few times, then closes her mouth.
“Will… will you teach me?” she asks nervously, like she’s worried he’ll say “no.” As if Harry could ever deny Katniss anything.
So, they spend the morning leaping and swinging carefully from branch to branch, Harry trying to take an easy route so Katniss doesn’t fall. She seems justifiably terrified at the possibility. He shows her how to set squirrel snares. She shoots down a groosling and ties it to her belt. They descend once they reach the stream at midday.
Katniss builds a smokeless fire to cook the bird, while Harry wanders up and down the bank, gathering roots and greens and berries. They have more than enough food for a sizable lunch now, plus leftovers for at least one more meal.
After lunch, they continue on foot; Katniss says her arms are too sore to keep swinging, but Harry thinks she’s not the biggest fan of that method of travel. The Gamemakers are back to playing with the temperature – it’s swelteringly hot, causing steam to rise from the rain-soaked forest. It’s a few hours later when Harry realizes they’re being followed.
Whoever it is is subtle, sneaky, so it’s probably not Draco. That just leaves Romilda “Foxface” Vane. When Katniss complains about some of the food she gathered going missing, thinking Harry ate it behind her back, he gives her a very serious look and says, deliberately slowly, “It wasn’t me.”
Katniss looks confused, then understanding lights her eyes before she shutters it away. “Let’s just keep going,” she says, but she’s looking around much more warily. Good. Romilda might only be after their food, but it wouldn’t do for them to get complacent.
Harry spots a bush of nightlock berries, which Luna was very careful to make sure he could identify and avoid. It gives him an idea. He starts stripping the bush and adding the berries to their stockpile, setting them off to the side from the other stacks of food. Katniss notices and gives him a questioning look, but he just shakes his head.
They both move away again, out of sight of the stockpile. Minutes later, the cannon sounds. They both rush to the stockpile, checking each other to reassure themselves of their continued life. The birds fall silent, except for one. About a hundred yards away, the hovercraft materializes, pulling up Romilda’s emaciated corpse.
“Only Draco left now,” Harry whispers. Katniss nods gravely. The Gamemakers will be itching for a final showdown soon.
Harry goes to get rid of the deadly berries but pauses. If they could kill one tribute… He wants Draco to die by his own sword, but bundles some of the berries into his pocket anyway.
Katniss has another groosling, two squirrels, and a fat rabbit on her belt, all with clean shots through the eye. “Let’s make a fire,” she says, “right now.”
He catches her meaning immediately. “You ready to face him?” he asks. They’re well-rested and well-fed, but Draco likely has just as many resources as they do, if not more.
“I’m ready to eat,” she snorts. “Let’s just cook what we’ve got while we have the chance. Besides, if we’re not hiding, he’ll know we’re trying to lure him out. Would you show up, if you were him?”
That’s some sound logic. Harry chuckles and helps her build the fire. They don’t worry about keeping it smokeless this time. Before they leave, they toss a bunch of green wood on it, hopefully confusing Draco.
By the time they return to Luna’s oak, the sun has almost set. The temperature is falling rapidly. They’re pleased to find that the heat during the day has dried the cave completely. A pleasant aroma of bark and humus fills it now, instead of the fetor of mold and rot.
They share a fourth meal inside the tent, huddled together for warmth. They have enough food to last another two days now, but both of them doubt they’ll still be in the Arena by then. When the anthem starts, Katniss confirms that it’s just Romilda’s face in the sky. Not that there was any doubt.
The next morning, packing up their camp feels more final than ever before. Harry doesn’t think they’ll be returning to Luna’s cave again. He takes a few moments to say goodbye to the place, running his hands over the smoothly-worn bark, while Katniss watches in sympathy. She helps him redecorate the shrine among the roots, the plants and berry-paint having been washed away by the storm.
They organize their supplies, ready their weapons, and head out to face whatever the Games have in store for their last day.