#v.3.

[ @burnarrow / prompts.

Burdock went to her bedside every night, desperate to save Katniss from her never ending nightmares. He let her set the pace. On what she wanted to talk about, on their trips into the woods. All of it.

He'd always appreciated the bond he shared with his eldest. He was even more grateful for it when she came back from the Capitol. The enormity of her still choosing to come to him wasn't lost, even as he found himself paranoid, comparing every moment to Haymitch's loss after his own games. He and Asterid had slept in shifts once she'd won.

They were in the woods, beneath a tree, when she spoke. He'd removed the worn prosthetic leg that'd been made after the mine accident all those years ago so he could sit more comfortably. Desperate for relief from the pinching and aches. Her words make Burdie's hands to slow.

He'd been sharpening an old knife with a stone.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. The footage he'd been shown, the footage he'd been forced to watch day in and day out, certainly would have said otherwise. The madness of doing interviews while his daughter fought for her life was enough to make his head spin. And then the move she pulled with the berries at the end...

Even Burdie felt himself falling for this story the country had been fed of the Star Crossed Lovers. Despite how well he knew his daughter. At the very least she'd been able to put on a good show.

“I know,” he says finally, hoping that it puts her at ease. But now she and Peeta Mellark are tied together. “Not sure we could say the same for him, though.” We. He wants to make it clear.

He'd wanted to protect her from everything. Had sworn he wouldn't let either of his girls go into the mines, had doubled down after his own accident, even if it meant both of them living with him and Asterid forever. Even if it meant being a little poorer than they were used to. But the Games? The aftermath of it all? Did he need to protect her from the baker across the road, too?

He puts a comforting hand on her back, squeezing her shoulder, arms open and ready for her, if she wanted them. “You did what you had to to survive-” and he was so glad for that, even if that gratitude felt wrong. He and Asterid were doing what they could. Batting away the people from the Capitol, saying she was too young for any of that. “We'll figure out the rest.”