He jokes. Sure enough, the technique or maybe the new elevation of the lure finds him a bite. The line tugs, and he feels a rush of excitement, instantly reeling in as fast and hard as he can with his stupid prosthetic. He's not practiced with using it for this, so it's pretty jerky.
"Here- reel!"
He hands the rod over to her, taking hers with his other hand. She'll probably do a better job of this part so they can actually have dinner, plus he wants her to have the accomplishment of the first catch.
"It definitely helps." Beats staring at nothing otherwise. Although Finnick and his sexiness was a terrible distraction while fishing.
Night Sky would have been perfectly content not having the rod shoved at her so suddenly, but even while briefly panicked, she managed the hand-off and turned, reeling in as fast as she could and with all the strength she had in her.
A few things happened in the next few seconds. First, the rather large bass on the end of the line rose up from the water as Night Sky pulled it up. Then, there was a loud yelp, a splash, and a moment where the boat might have flipped entirely before it settled, revealing a flopping fish on the floor of the planks, and Night Sky nowhere to be seen.
Finnick's eyes are instinctually on the fish as it comes up out of the water, and he reaches to grab it and pull it into the boat. But his gaze snaps over as Sky yelps, and he sees her fall into the water.
"Shit!"
Just as instinctually, he steps up onto the side of the boat and dives in, opening his eyes to find her in the water, then grabs her and pulls her swiftly to the surface. He makes sure they're both next to the side of the boat.
"Grab me- grab the boat-" he instructs quickly, as soon as they're up above the surface.
Falling directly into the water was not something she enjoyed; the shock of it causing her to become briefly dazed. But then she was being pulled up to the surface, cresting the water with a gasp as she clutched onto Finnick.
"Ah—" She sputtered, grasping at the side of the boat. "Did I — did I get it?" Was she laughing?
He's briefly panicked and paying close attention to her to make sure she's okay. Once he realizes she's laughing and breathing, he catches his own breath and grabs the side of the boat (his other hand still gripping her hard) and peers over the side. He hears it before he sees it anyway- the huge fish flopping around in there.
"You got it, baby!" He laughs with her, breathlessly.
"That's what she said. Okay, you first. Then you'll be a counterweight for my heavy ass. Grab the side."
Finnick also grabs the side and uses his real arm to hoist her up, kicking powerfully to prevent them or the boat from sinking too much as she pulls herself in.
"Ahah!" She couldn't stop laughing. And it actually took her a few seconds to do so before she hoisted herself up into the boat with a flop right beside the fish.
She sat up carefully and reached out for him with both hands.
Finnick clamours back into the boat quite un-gracefully, laughing as he flops by the fish too. He grabs a bucket he brought and chucks the fish into it, adding some cold water to keep it fresh.
The two catch a couple more fish, though not as big as the first one, and decide it's enough for dinner. Finnick rows them in and returns the boat, then carries the bucket, along with a backpack full of camping shit, off the docks.
It was an exciting ordeal with far less falls into the water after the first, with Night Sky giggling stupidly for the majority of it — recalling bad jokes she and Finnick made or making new ones along the way.
Once off the shore, she wrang the last bits of the lake out of her hair, eagerly leading him off into the woods, her hand in his and a bag in her other hand full of... well, not camping supplies. Definitely smores ingredients because that was the most important part.
Her campsite was deep in the woods, a trail led by humanoid and animal tracks digging repeatedly into the dirt and grass. Night Sky could see in the dark, her eyes shining like a cats in the flickering light of twilight that managed to peek through the trees. It was a few steps into the wood that she realized Finnick probably couldn't. "Ah... should I get a torch?"
Finnick loves the way he can act completely stupid with Sky, laugh and joke about dumb and sexual things without feeling self-conscious or judged in the slightest. It's very rare that Finnick feels his silliness is appreciated.
As soon as the two enter the woods in the dark, Finnick is set on edge. He grips her hand more tightly and nods. He's about to rummage in the backpack for a light source, until he remembers she can just make one.
"Mmn." A contemplative hum. Night Sky adjusted her bag to sling over her shoulder instead, keeping a firm grip on his hand as she used her free one to conjure a torch from her palm. "There's matches in your bag. Can you get them, baby?" She asked, her voice soft and, she hoped, soothing enough to quell whatever fears he had.
"Oh, right yeah." He takes off the backpack and searches around in it. It's hard to find the matches without light. He tries to breathe evenly, but his hands shake a little and there's a rushed quality to his movements. Finally, he finds them, lights one and carefully lights her torch. He looks around immediately to take on their newly-lit surroundings and make sure there's no danger around. Seeing nothing amiss, he tries again to steady his breath.
It was so easy to forget that most people did not enjoy the darkness of the woods; the silence save the occasional rustling of a nocturnal beast; the fluttering of leaves in a soft, whispering wind. Night Sky held the torch in front of them, looped her arm around him, and gently kissed his cheek. "We're almost there, sweetness. You're safe. Nothing can get you."
And if it tried, well, shame for it, then.
She continued moving them along, light flickering over rocks and trees, casting shadows that might spook her poor lover but she did not notice initially. Night Sky whistled to alert her dogs as they approached the open area where her camp resided, both hounds hurrying through the brush to meet them to walk alongside the pair and keep watch. Added protection, if Finnick wanted it.
The campsite itself was small, surrounded by trees in a circle Night Sky had clearly carved out herself. A tent was set up, the front wide open and the inside looking almost akin to her bedroom in the castle — blankets and pillows galore. A small campfire was set with wood stacked nearby, along with a bucket and a few other odds and ends for when she stayed out for days. "See? Nothing to worry about." And promptly lit that campfire with her torch.
Finnick holds tight to her. Her assurance of safety and her presence is what he tries to focus on, but the shadows are irregular shapes that are too easy for his brain to interpret as human figures about to leap out and kill them both. He yearns for a trident in his hands, or any kind of weapon he could use to protect them.
The dogs are somewhat of a comfort, but the campsite is lit strangely by the torch, and his uneasiness builds again as she starts a fire. Lighting a fire at night, the ultimate blunder for a tribute, sure to signal to the careers your exact location so they can easily hunt you down.
This feels like a bad idea. Cognitively, he knows he's safe, but in his body all he feels is dread and fear. Like something horrible is going to happen imminently. His eyes still dart around, and he fails to settle or make himself comfortable in the campsite, still standing near her.
Impossible not to notice his unease. Not only for her own obvious comfort while in the campsite, but because it was so unlike Finnick to be so... quiet. So hesitant.
She set everything down, took his bag from him and settled it with the rest. Only then did she stand before him, hands on his cheeks, smile soft.
"Sorry," he says reflexively, a little short of breath. He feels guilty; he wants to be happy to be here with her, because it's such a special place for her, but the fear is in the way.
"I--"
His words are gummed up in his chest. He can't seem to call the right ones to mind or get them out of his mouth. He's freezing up a little, disassociating slightly, unable to focus on much except the sick feeling in his stomach and the way his heart is pounding so fast.
"It's just- a lot like the arena..." He wishes he had more words available to explain, but hopefully that's enough for her to understand what he means.
She frowned. That explained it well enough. Night Sky looped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, leaned up on her toes to gently bump their noses together.
"I'm sorry, baby." She murmured, swaying with him slowly; soothingly. "I won't let anything even come close to hurting you, Finnick. You're safe here with me. I promise." She smiled. "Why don't we try making new memories for you, hm? No arena. No games. Nothing but you and me and nature — and s'mores." She chuckled.
"It's not me I'm worried about," he murmurs. Annie, Mags, Katniss, Peeta, Daeleth. His strong urge is to protect them all. He couldn't bear to fail at it again-- for Sky to disappear into the fog... That thought alone almost drags him completely into despair.
Words of safety don't seem to make a dent in his fear, but he pulls her close and places his hand on her back, rubbing her warm skin. That brings him back to the present ever so slightly.
"I'll try. I'll try. I'm sorry," he whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on her skin on his, ducking his face into her shoulder. He shivers, his clothes still wet in the cool night air.
Her hands splayed across the back of his head, the nape of his neck, kneading soft and soothing into scalp and skin. Night Sky laid another kiss to his temple.
"It's okay, baby. Don't be sorry." It was enough she almost suggested just going back. This camping trip would work just as well within the safety of the garden. But she didn't, if only because she thought he might fight against it. "What can I do, sweetness? What do you need to make this easier?"
Her hand on his scalp feels nice, and the one on the nape of his neck helps him feel calmer- a product of conditioning from his relationship with Eren. He puts his hand on the nape of her neck as well; a promise of protection. He tries to breathe deeply.
What does he need? He has no idea.
"Ah... Touch is good... Can we... Lay with the dogs a minute?"
All that body heat would hopefully warm him up and help the feeling of security to build.
"Oh, they'll love that." She chuckled. Night Sky turned her head and growled something to the dogs. Bear Heart excitedly bounded into the tent, knocking over a few pillows in the process, while Hank patiently waited just outside of the opening.
Night Sky grasped both of Finnick's hands and walked backwards toward the tent, ducking down and flopping back into the little nest inside and urging him down between her legs, arms wrapping around him as Hank took up his post at their feet and Bear Heart bullied his way up into Finnick's space.
Finnick allows himself to be lead into the tent, on the verge of tears but hoping this will help. As he sits between her legs, he starts to remove his damp clothing, and Bear Heart comes up in his face, making him exhale a tiny, silent laugh. He allows the dog to kiss his face, which lightens his mood considerably and forcefully grounds him into the present.
He finishes getting his clothing off and leans back into Sky's arms, trying to get Bear Heart to settle on top of him or at least between his legs.
Sit on him? Say no more. Bear Heart, the big lug, flopped onto Finnick with a gleeful huff, snuggling close enough he was borderline smothering the poor guy.
Night Sky whistled softly and Hank shifted closer, curled more around their legs than posted up in front of them. Finnick was stuck between bundles of fur and Night Sky behind him, who laughed at the sight of them all. She kissed the top of Finnick's head.
Finnick laughs softly too. The weight of the dogs, the tickle of their soft fur, the warmth and secure hold of Sky behind him... There's no way he can't feel comforted and grounded now. He hums, nods. His breathing evens, and he pets Bear Heart.
After a little bit, he says:
"Never had tents or dogs in the arena, so that's different at least." Or pillows or blankets or anything of comfort.
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He jokes. Sure enough, the technique or maybe the new elevation of the lure finds him a bite. The line tugs, and he feels a rush of excitement, instantly reeling in as fast and hard as he can with his stupid prosthetic. He's not practiced with using it for this, so it's pretty jerky.
"Here- reel!"
He hands the rod over to her, taking hers with his other hand. She'll probably do a better job of this part so they can actually have dinner, plus he wants her to have the accomplishment of the first catch.
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Night Sky would have been perfectly content not having the rod shoved at her so suddenly, but even while briefly panicked, she managed the hand-off and turned, reeling in as fast as she could and with all the strength she had in her.
A few things happened in the next few seconds. First, the rather large bass on the end of the line rose up from the water as Night Sky pulled it up. Then, there was a loud yelp, a splash, and a moment where the boat might have flipped entirely before it settled, revealing a flopping fish on the floor of the planks, and Night Sky nowhere to be seen.
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"Shit!"
Just as instinctually, he steps up onto the side of the boat and dives in, opening his eyes to find her in the water, then grabs her and pulls her swiftly to the surface. He makes sure they're both next to the side of the boat.
"Grab me- grab the boat-" he instructs quickly, as soon as they're up above the surface.
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"Ah—" She sputtered, grasping at the side of the boat. "Did I — did I get it?" Was she laughing?
Yes.
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"You got it, baby!" He laughs with her, breathlessly.
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He pauses.
"That's what she said. Okay, you first. Then you'll be a counterweight for my heavy ass. Grab the side."
Finnick also grabs the side and uses his real arm to hoist her up, kicking powerfully to prevent them or the boat from sinking too much as she pulls herself in.
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She sat up carefully and reached out for him with both hands.
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The two catch a couple more fish, though not as big as the first one, and decide it's enough for dinner. Finnick rows them in and returns the boat, then carries the bucket, along with a backpack full of camping shit, off the docks.
"Your turn to lead the way, sweetness."
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Once off the shore, she wrang the last bits of the lake out of her hair, eagerly leading him off into the woods, her hand in his and a bag in her other hand full of... well, not camping supplies. Definitely smores ingredients because that was the most important part.
Her campsite was deep in the woods, a trail led by humanoid and animal tracks digging repeatedly into the dirt and grass. Night Sky could see in the dark, her eyes shining like a cats in the flickering light of twilight that managed to peek through the trees. It was a few steps into the wood that she realized Finnick probably couldn't. "Ah... should I get a torch?"
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As soon as the two enter the woods in the dark, Finnick is set on edge. He grips her hand more tightly and nods. He's about to rummage in the backpack for a light source, until he remembers she can just make one.
"Please."
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And if it tried, well, shame for it, then.
She continued moving them along, light flickering over rocks and trees, casting shadows that might spook her poor lover but she did not notice initially. Night Sky whistled to alert her dogs as they approached the open area where her camp resided, both hounds hurrying through the brush to meet them to walk alongside the pair and keep watch. Added protection, if Finnick wanted it.
The campsite itself was small, surrounded by trees in a circle Night Sky had clearly carved out herself. A tent was set up, the front wide open and the inside looking almost akin to her bedroom in the castle — blankets and pillows galore. A small campfire was set with wood stacked nearby, along with a bucket and a few other odds and ends for when she stayed out for days. "See? Nothing to worry about." And promptly lit that campfire with her torch.
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The dogs are somewhat of a comfort, but the campsite is lit strangely by the torch, and his uneasiness builds again as she starts a fire. Lighting a fire at night, the ultimate blunder for a tribute, sure to signal to the careers your exact location so they can easily hunt you down.
This feels like a bad idea. Cognitively, he knows he's safe, but in his body all he feels is dread and fear. Like something horrible is going to happen imminently. His eyes still dart around, and he fails to settle or make himself comfortable in the campsite, still standing near her.
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She set everything down, took his bag from him and settled it with the rest. Only then did she stand before him, hands on his cheeks, smile soft.
"Talk to me, sweetness. What's wrong?"
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"I--"
His words are gummed up in his chest. He can't seem to call the right ones to mind or get them out of his mouth. He's freezing up a little, disassociating slightly, unable to focus on much except the sick feeling in his stomach and the way his heart is pounding so fast.
"It's just- a lot like the arena..." He wishes he had more words available to explain, but hopefully that's enough for her to understand what he means.
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"I'm sorry, baby." She murmured, swaying with him slowly; soothingly. "I won't let anything even come close to hurting you, Finnick. You're safe here with me. I promise." She smiled. "Why don't we try making new memories for you, hm? No arena. No games. Nothing but you and me and nature — and s'mores." She chuckled.
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Words of safety don't seem to make a dent in his fear, but he pulls her close and places his hand on her back, rubbing her warm skin. That brings him back to the present ever so slightly.
"I'll try. I'll try. I'm sorry," he whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on her skin on his, ducking his face into her shoulder. He shivers, his clothes still wet in the cool night air.
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"It's okay, baby. Don't be sorry." It was enough she almost suggested just going back. This camping trip would work just as well within the safety of the garden. But she didn't, if only because she thought he might fight against it. "What can I do, sweetness? What do you need to make this easier?"
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What does he need? He has no idea.
"Ah... Touch is good... Can we... Lay with the dogs a minute?"
All that body heat would hopefully warm him up and help the feeling of security to build.
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Night Sky grasped both of Finnick's hands and walked backwards toward the tent, ducking down and flopping back into the little nest inside and urging him down between her legs, arms wrapping around him as Hank took up his post at their feet and Bear Heart bullied his way up into Finnick's space.
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He finishes getting his clothing off and leans back into Sky's arms, trying to get Bear Heart to settle on top of him or at least between his legs.
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Night Sky whistled softly and Hank shifted closer, curled more around their legs than posted up in front of them. Finnick was stuck between bundles of fur and Night Sky behind him, who laughed at the sight of them all. She kissed the top of Finnick's head.
"Better?"
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After a little bit, he says:
"Never had tents or dogs in the arena, so that's different at least." Or pillows or blankets or anything of comfort.
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wrapping this for our sanity