Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nike does a spin to show off her powder blue suit that's nearly the same shade as her eyes, "How do I look?"
I smile half heartedly, "Just like Father."
She smiles proudly. Nike and I hadn’t been close in many years, in fact, most days we didn’t even speak to each other; but on reaping day we were sisters again. Like every other family, we put up a united front for the reaping despite the cracks in our facade that we couldn’t hide.

"Would you like me to tie your hair back like mine?" She ask gesturing to her long blonde hair carefully braided back into a bun.
I shake my head, "I like it better down."
She sighs and looks at my hair, "If you're sure you'd prefer it."
I twirl at the end of my ash brown hair around my fingers, and try not to resent her comment. I know she didn't mean it maliciously. I, for one, had never been particularly fond of my hair. Most of the people from my district had light features, so I stood out. I’m sure different has never been good for anyone despite what my mother used to tell me. The other kids used to tease me relentlessly. They told me I looked like I belonged in a poor district. In later years, I had earned their respect by way of my iron will, but I they would never like me.

Mom thrusts some bread into our hands and ushers us out the door, "Come on, we can't be late to the reaping."
I roll my eyes. “Heaven forbid we don't do exactly as president Snow says." I mutter under my breath.
"Don't talk like that." Mom warns me, "Just stay out of trouble. The peacekeepers would shoot you if they ever heard an utterance against the president."
"I think the games are brilliant." Nike chirps, "Once I win we'll get to move back to the victors village, to the house Father won before, and I'll never have to work again."
Mom and I look at each other, and she shakes her head. Nike was exactly what the capital hoped to breed, just like our father in every way. On occasion, I wondered how much easier my life would be if I was more like her, if I bought into the capital propaganda. If our father was still alive, I know which daughter he would be proud to claim as his own.

We get to the town square just as the mayor is about to begin. I navigate my way through the crowd to stand with my friend, Emersyn, a few feet behind our age group’s the careers, where Nike has already placed herself. Emersyn gives me a side hug and a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. The careers had shunned her from the very beginning. Diabetics never last very long in the arena. Weaknesses have no place among them and the games would be a death sentence for her.
“Last reaping.” Emersyn whispers, “The nightmare is almost over.”
I frown, “For us maybe.”
“Are you worried about Nike?”
“No, I’m worried about those poor kids that I can hear crying in their houses the night before the reaping.”

The mayor smiles easily as if he's not about to send at least one person to their death, "Welcome back to the 70th annual Hunger Games! Thank you for allowing me to stand before you for another wonderful year. To my left I have this year’s mentors, Mags Flanagan, of course, and Finnick Odair." The mayor looks him up and down, "What a fine young man, I'm sure everyone watching at home is swooning."
Finnick's face twitches uncomfortably and the crowd cheers. Like many of the boys from district 4, he has blond hair, eyes like honey, and all the right features. Just as well fed and toned as you would expect any him to be. Objectively, he's devastatingly handsome.

"And to my right, I have the lovely Ms. Ocillia Curqui who came all the way from the capital to escort a lovely young pair to the games. Let's give her a warm welcome."
More like to their deaths.
Everyone claps and the woman beams back at us. She's strange looking, almost bird like. Maybe that's partially due to the capitals strange fashion.
Her eyes are small and dark, her nose is long and narrow, and her lips are thin, though she's used makeup to make them look more substantial. Her hair is close cut to her head and a greenish yellow like the feathers of a hummingbird. Her collar is frilled, which makes her neck look longer than it is, and her sleeves flair making them appear wing-like.
She steps up to the shining silver microphone, “No need to be so formal, just Ocie, please."

"Without further ado, I will pull the names of this year’s tributes. Ladies first, naturally.” She takes a dramatic pause before opening the slip of paper to reveal which girl she would be sending off, never to be seen again, "Alice Finch."
I turn to my right and see the girl's face blanch and freeze in fear. Her cloudy green eyes widen to an almost impossible size. Some of the careers in front of me snicker.
Emersyn shakes her head, "She's blind! She won't even make it a day in the arena."
Nike begins to raise her hand, but the girl next to her pushes it back down, "Don't volunteer for her. She's a parasite. This is the perfect way to purge her from district 4. We have plenty more reapings."
“Isn’t she a bad look for our district?” Nike counters.
“No one will remember her.” The girl next to her assures her. The worst part is, she’s right. Even in our district, nobody will remember or care what happened to her a year from now.

My heart aches for the girl, I've seen her around town. People gather around to hear her sing while she waits for her father and brother, Hunter, to come back on their fishing boat. I've even spoken with her once or twice. Her happiness is contagious. Even Nike can't help but smile when she sings, and Nike rarely smiles.
How could they be so apathetic? She's only 12.
"Poor Hunter, I don't know what he'll do without his little sister around." Emersyn says stealing a glance at our other long time friend, whose face is unusually stoic.

Without taking the time to think about what I’m doing, I raise my hand. I know if I hesitate, I’ll lose my nerve.
"What are you doing?" Emersyn whisper yells.
"I volunteer as tribute."
Nike's jaw drops in shock and the crowd stares as they make room for me to approach the stage.

The mayor smiles, "And just like that Athena  Blaine has volunteered in little Alice's place. Seems like Ms. Blaine wants a taste of victory, just like her father."
I cringe.
"Our only question is: What took you so long?" Ocie chimes in, “Were you afraid?”
I spit on her face, “I’ve never been afraid.”
A collective gasp runs through the crowd. Ocie jumps back and a peacekeeper lunges at me, hitting me with his batton. I clutch my side and force a smile up before I bow my head to the crowd.

Out of the corner of my eyes I see Finnick pressing his lips together as his shoulders bob up and down.
Is he laughing?
Ocie wipes her face in a visible effort to collect her dignity. As I pull myself back to my feet, she slaps me with the back of her hand, ring covered fingers knocking against my jaw. Pain blossoms across my cheek, but I quell my reaction.

She straighten her shirt and smiles, “Now for the boys."
She flourishes a slip of paper for the camera before she squints to read the print "Gideon Collingswood."

The career tributes part to allow the large boy through. His expression is stoic except for a small smirk that flickers across his face. His cold blue eyes are set straight ahead.
I hear a boy near the front let out a low whistle, "I would not like to be whoever is competing against him."
He joins us on stage and gives me an assessing look before looking away.

"Looks like we have an impressive set of tributes this year." The mayor says trying to keep his tone even.

~~~

I sit in the large circular room staring out the window. The carpet is an ugly shade of brown, but it looks new, and the room smells as if it's been painted recently.
The peacekeeper outside opens the door allowing Nike and mom to enter the room. Nike refuses to make eye contact with me.
Mom rushes over and pulls me into a hug, "I never, never would have expected you of all people to volunteer! What were you thinking?”
"I had to mom, I'll be alright." I assure her.
She shakes her head, "I never doubted that."

I put my hand around hers allowing the moment to sink in, "I love you mom."
"I love you too." She gives me one last squeeze, holding back tears, before leaving to allow me to say goodbye to Nike.

"I was going to volunteer." Nike deadpans.
I roll my eyes, Then why didn't you?"
"Valentine said I shouldn't." She answers.
"You're your own person, Nike."
She looks down at the floor, "It’s not like I wanted her to die."
I roll my eyes once again and turn away from her, "I don't care."
She grabs my arm and stares at me with those cold blue eyes, "Thea?"
I look back just as intensely, “What?"
“I’m not a monster.” She sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself than me
I pause and for a moment I almost feel bad for her. As much as we may disagree now, I know that my little sister is in there, even if it is deep. The one that used to collect me seashells at the beach because they made me smile. She’s young. She’s just a product of the system.
“I know you aren’t.” I say more kindly.

She nods, “You gotta come home, ok? Mom needs you. She can hardly stand me."
"That's-"
"Thea, you don't need to lie." Nike cuts me off, "I can hardly stand her either.“
I sigh. How does a family fall apart like this?
She pats my shoulder, "I'll see you in a few weeks."
I know that's the closest she'll get to saying I love you. We don't do that. We never have.
"In the victors village." I promise.
I couldn't care less about Panem, or our status; but I know she does, and I know that she'll realize I want her to know I love her.
"I'll send the others in." She tells me.
Others?

After a minute the door opens and Emersyn and Hunter lead Alice into the room.
"Athena?" She calls quietly.
"I'm right here." I say letting her grab my hand.
"Why'd you volunteer for me? I don't have anything to give you. And you-“ she starts quickly.
"It’s alright.” I cut her off, “I don't want anything from you. Just keep singing."
"Thank you, I'll never forget it." She wraps her arms around me, catching me off guard, "I'm going to write the most beautiful song for you. Be sure to come back and hear it."
I awkwardly pat her back, “I can't wait."
She pulls an amber crusted clip in the shape of a starfish out of her hair, "I heard this clip is beautiful, it's wasted on me since I can't see it. Will you please take it?"
"I can't." I say pressing it back into her palm.
"Please, I’d like it to be your token if you don’t have one."
I sigh, "It's gorgeous. I'd be honored."
She smiles happily and finds her way out of the room.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Hunter's eyes rim with tears as his sister leaves the room, "Thank you Thea. I don't know what I'd do-"
I nod, unsure of what to say.  I don't think I've ever seen him emotional at all, and I've definitely never seen him cry.
“I know.” I say before, in a rare show of affection, I tug him into a tight hug and he reciprocates, squeezing me back tightly. After a minute, I pull away.
He composes himself and waves, "I'll see you in a few weeks."

As soon as we're alone, Emersyn turns to me, "I can't believe you."
"Check in on Nike for me. You might need to pry her away from the television." I joke, “You know how she is.”
Emersyn lets out a small chuckle, "I’ll be watching too this time, you know.”
“Don’t let her watch me suffer, alright? I know she can handle it but-“
“But she’ll always be your little sister.” Emersyn finishes my thought.
“I wish I had tried harder to get through to her.”
“Now’s not the time for regrets.”
“Don’t let her end up in here.” I request.
She nods and gives me a kiss on the cheek, “Please try, you have a chance.”
“I will.”

Chapter Text

Ocie reluctantly guides me to my room, but makes sure to keep her distance.
"Anything in the here is at your disposal. There are clothes in the drawer that should be to your liking. Dinner will be served promptly in 30 minutes. I'd prefer if you didn't come at all, but if you must, don't be late."
I force a smile, "Thank you."
I know I should have been nicer to her. After all, I do need her help to survive. I won't make it long without sponsors and, like it or not, she's how I get them.

She nods curtly before leaving me alone in the large and luxurious room. Though the bed is massive, it doesn't even take up a third of the room. There are is a long dresser against the wall across the bed. It has a variety of perfumes and other fragrances scattered across the top. The drawers are full of clean, new clothes in every color and style.
On the wall adjacent to the door, there's a vanity with a plush chair, a basket of skin and hair care products, and a hairbrush. Next to the vanity is a full length mirror and a rack of shoes.
The room even has its own bathroom attached. The shower is three times as big as my shower at home, and there's a tub with jets.
On the counter next to the sink, there's a basket of bath salts and an array of shampoos and soaps. Though it all seems a bit excessive, especially for a train, I'm not going to complain.

After dinner, I'm going to take the longest, hottest shower of my life. Maybe I can scald the worries of today away.

I sigh and walk back into the main room before lying face down on the bed. 30 minutes isn't really much time to get ready, but then again I don't really care. All I really want to do is rest my eyes for a bit.

After what feels like no time at all, someone taps my back. I look up and see a girl with short, bright red hair and big eyes so dark they almost look black staring back at me.
"What's wrong?" I ask blearily.
She doesn't say a word, she just walks over to the dresser and begins pulling out clothes.
She must be an avox.

"Are you here to help me get ready?" I ask.
She nods and looks down and the clothes before looking back at me quizzically.
"Anything yellow?" I offer.
She nods and pulls out a gorgeous yellow and orange satin dress that's somehow both classy and casual.
"That's beautiful." I marvel.
She smiles and motions for me to take off my reaping dress so I can put it on.

"Did they really cut your tongue out?" The question slips from my lips before I have a chance to think it, and I'm horrified I asked, "That was rude, I'm very sorry."
She shakes her head and gives me a look that says don't worry about it, but I still feel bad.
"I'm sorry." I repeat more quietly.

She holds out the dress for me to step into and then ties the ribbon in the back.
"Does it look alright?" I ask.
She smiles and nods before pointing to the shoes.
"Oh, just anything is alright."
She glances down at my feet and selects a pair of brown sandals from the rack. They're embellished with small gemstones, and they look like real they're made from real leather.
"Why do they give us such nice things if we're going to die in a week?"
She shrugs and slips the shoes on my feet.

"Thank you for helping, you didn't have to." I tell her.
She waves dismissively at me and I realize she really did have to. Not because of me, but because she's become an unwilling puppet of the capital.

~~~

Ocie turns off the tv and happily takes another bite of her roasted quail, "I think you two are the best pair this year."
"That girl from district 1, Emma, seemed to be.... not in her right mind." I observe. Emma, what a weird name.
Ocie shrugs lightly, "She'll either be an easy kill or good entertainment."
Gideon just grunts. I'm not sure he's said a word the entire time we've been on the train, or ever for that matter.
"Seems like plenty tributes you won't even have to worry about." She giggles, "Half of those kids were trying not to cry when they got on stage."
I scowl at her. I catch Finnick doing the same for a moment, but it goes to his neutral expression almost as quickly as it came. Did I imagine it?

"Seems like a young group this year." Gideon states gruffly.
Ocie raises a brow, "Is that going to be a problem?"
"Not for me." Gideon says casting a sideways glance at me.
"I know what I volunteered for." I retort.
"Then we don't have a problem.....yet."
"Is that a threat?"
"Could someone please pass the potatoes?" Ocie's nasally voice calls over us. I swear, I'd go to the arena right now just to never have to hear it again.

Finnick slides the dish over to her.
She smiles at him and flutters her obnoxiously long, thick lashes, "You've barely said a word since we've gotten on the train! How are you feeling Mr. Odair?"
Is she flirting with him?
"Maybe if you talked less I could have gotten a thought in." He replies in a snap without so much as a moments hesitation.
Her jaw drops, and I try to cover my snicker with a cough.

His eyes widen and he offers her a charming smile, "I'm sorry, that was very rude. I love hearing you talk. It's so eloquent. I  guess the games just have me on edge."
She seems to buy his obviously insincere apology and returns to ogling him, "I can only imagine how hard it is to be a mentor. It really is a hard time for all of us."
"You're such an empathetic person." His tone drips with false pleasantry.
"I always have been." She answers, not catching on, "I just really feel for people."
Finnick face twitches into a smile and Gideon lets out a small, humorless laugh.
"What?" Ocie squawks.
"Oh nothing, you're just so different from everyone in the districts." I say, trying to make it sound like a compliment.
"Refined." Finnick says paradoxically before offering her a confident wink. Somehow, in some ways, the people from the capital are even more crude than we are.

Chapter Text

I watch through the window as miles of forest slip by. The scenery here is so different than home.
The seat next to me sinks in and I see Finnick sitting there out of the corner of my eye. He points towards the buildings looming in the distance, "we're almost to the capital."
"I'm sure Ocie is excited."

"Quite a show you put on yesterday." He states.
"Glad you were amused." I say dryly.
"The footage probably got cut," he continues, "But I bet no one who saw it will forget it. I know I won't."
I turn to hide a small, proud smile, "Well, I have you to thank for providing the dinner entertainment."
"I wish I could say the pleasure was all mine, but it wasn't."
I lightly chuckle, which makes Finnick smile.

He studies me for a moment, trying to get a better read on me, "You're not a career."
It's not a question. It's an observation.
"You're right. I'm not."
"But you come from a career family."
"I do."
"You're in good physical shape and you seem healthy."
"I am."
"So why aren't you a career?"
"Not super keen on killing a bunch of kids for some perverted form of entertainment."
"Then what made you volunteer?"
"I volunteered because I can."
He shakes his head, "Because I said so is not a real answer."
I side eye him. I know I need his help, and I know he's a good mentor, but that doesn't mean I need to trust him. In fact, it may be in my best interest not to trust him. I hear he spends the majority of his time in the capital, like a traitor.

"If I'm going to help you, you need to trust me." He says plainly.
"Trust you to do what? I trust you to try and keep me alive, or at least get people to like me."
"I can't tell you anything about staying alive that you haven't heard before. I need you to tell me what matters to you, besides living? How do you want to be remembered? I'll do my best to help you."
I eye him cautiously before sighing, I can't pick out any insincerity. Maybe he's like my sister. No bad intentions, just brainwashed. But then again, if he's brainwashed why did he do what he did yesterday? To get me to respect him? I suppose it doesn't really matter.

I don't answer his question, instead I extend my hand to him, "I feel like we got off to a bad start, I'm Athena Blaine, but everyone just calls me Thea. Nice to officially meet you."
He shakes my hand and offers me his usually charming smile, "Nice to meet you too, I'm Finnick Odair."

This time, I break the silence, "Our we the first tributes you've mentored?"
He sighs and shakes his head, "No, I mentored 2 games ago."
"How come I don't remember?"
He shrugs, "I was 17 and I overestimated my tributes skills."
"So you got cocky?" I half joke.
He gives me a massive side eye.
"I'm sorry." I nod at him to go one.
"The boy wasn't a people person, didn't want allies. He wouldn't even join the career pack. I didn't try to change his mind. After all, allies aren't at the top of everyone's priorities in there. I told him to just go to the cornucopia and get gear and supplies. He was big, so I thought he could make it on his own. A tiny girl from district 6 that I told him not to worry about beat him the center. She threw a knife." He mimics throwing, "And it went right through his eye."
"And the girl?"
He raises an eyebrow, "Wow, you seriously don't remember?"
"After a few years it all start to blend together."
He takes a deep breath,  "She was 15, couldn't have been more than 5'0. Fine, but not really victor material. She was trained, but I wrote her off. Didn't even really try to help. I wanted my first tribute to be a winner, guess I had something to prove, so I focused all my energy on the boy. Tyde, my co-mentor that year, took care of her training all alone. She made it to third, no thanks to me." He explains.
I grimace at him. That didn't exactly boost my confidence in him.
At least he's honest I guess.
"Look, I'm definitely not proud of it, but I cant change it. I promise to be better for you and Gideon." He assures me.
I nod. I really have no choice but to believe him.

"What family do you have?" He asks lightly, changing the topic.
"Just my mother and my sister. My father died a few years ago from something he had caught in the capital while he was mentoring tributes."
"How old is your sister?"
I sigh, "14."
"So she's eligible for the reaping." He muses.
I shrug, "She's a career, I know she'll volunteer sooner or later."
"Even if you win?"
"Especially if I win."
He nods, "Anyone else waiting for you back in district 4?"
"Two friends, Emersyn and Hunter."

"Why'd you come to meet me before Gideon?" I ask
"Who said I did?" He counters.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
I scoff out a laugh.
"Look, he's a career. I've met a million of him. I know what he's like and I know what he's going to say. I know he'll basically do whatever I tell him. And honestly," he pauses and offers me a jaw dropping smile that I'm sure would make anyone weak in the knees, I'm no exception, "I just wanted to meet the girl who spit in Ocie's face."

"Any skills that will help you in the arena?" He asks steering the conversation back to its topic.
"I'm skilled with a spear and trident, my father made me learn how to use a sword, I can make nets and baskets and fishing poles without any tools, and I'm a strong swimmer."
"How are you with long range weapons like throwing knives?"
"I don't have much practice with them, but I'm a fast learner."
He nods, "You'll get a good score."

"Do you think Gideon will work with me?" I ask.
"I don't see why not, but he'll probably want to join the career pack and I don't think that's the best decision for you."
"Is it the best move for him?"
Finnick doesn't answer, "I want to talk through his options with him before I speculate."

Silence blankets us and he looks out the window contemplatively.
"How do you feel about being a victor? Are you proud?" I ask.
He raises an eyebrow, "Does it matter?"
"Not really."
"Do you care or are you just trying to make conversation?"
"I care."
"I definitely don't feel like I've won anything. Haven't for a long time." He responds with a quiet sincerity.
"Does it feel like a privilege?"
He scoffs, "Honestly it feels like a punishment."
"You sound completely different than my father did."
"Then he's a special kind of person."
"You have no idea."

"Why'd you volunteer?" He circles back.
My eyes lock with his, "For her."
"Who?"
"Alice Finch." I frown as anger bubbles up in my chest, "the poor girl is blind and the careers were relieved she going to die."
He smiles, "you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"You sound like my mom."
"Is that a compliment?"
"If you like being compared to a middle age woman, sure."
When he laughs his eyes crinkle in the corners.

"You should probably talk Gideon now." I say after a moment of silence, "I'm sure he's waiting."
"I'm excited. He seems chatty." Finnick says sarcastically.

Chapter Text

Our handcuffs jingle as they parade us down the Main Street of the capital for the citizens and viewers to enjoy. Passersbyers gawk at us from a distance the peacekeepers deemed safe as if we're wild animals poised for attack. It's a little colder here than at home, but Ocie warned us it would be so I'm at least I'm dressed warmly.
The only thing good thing she's ever done probably.

I'm drawn out of thought by a tugging on my shirt and look down to see a small boy with dark curly hair poking out from under an expensive looking hat.
"You're really pretty." The little boy says, "Why do they make you wear these bracelets?"
I glance around in alarm, surprised he slipped by the peacekeepers. One of them seems to have noticed, but he's being held back by another. Why don't they care? Do they think it's good publicity? Do they care more about the entertainment we provide then their on citizens?
That wouldn't surprise me.

I glance back at the boy and offer him a small smile, I don't want to scare him, "It makes us less scary."
"I don't think you're scary" the boy says walking next to me as the peace keeper nudges me along with his gun.
"Well you're a brave little boy. A lot of mommies and daddies here think I am."

Finnick's POV

Thea walks slowly alongside the little boy, listening intently, despite the fact that a peacekeeper keeps nudging her along with a gun. I catch her eye and she nods her head  at me to come closer. I look at Ocie who struts proudly beside me, not paying the slightest attention to what's going on.

"My friend Mr. Odair is going to take you back to your mommy now." Thea says kindly to the little boy.
He glances at me shyly before looking back up at her, "But I want to stay with you."
"What about your mommy? She probably misses you."
The boy nods understandingly, "Well can you come play with me soon?"
"Sure."

The boy hugs her legs before walking over to me and looking up, "Can I tell you a secret?"
I glance at Thea who is casually keeping an eye on us, "What?"
He motions for me to lean down and I quickly squat down in front of him. "I'm going to marry her." He whispers loudly in my ear.
I smile and stand up, slowly guiding him back to the crowd, "Is that so? I think you'll need to get a little bigger first."
"Mommy says I will if I eat my vegetables."
I glance back down at him clutching onto my hand, "Do you see your mommy?"
He points to a panicked looking woman being held back by a peacekeeper, "That's my mommy."

I gently pick him up and hand him off to the woman. She offers me a relieved smile, "Thank you for getting him away from that girl who knows what she would have done." She says as if Thea was some subhuman creature. As if I was instantly turned human after killing everyone else to get out of the arena.
I bite my tongue and force my most charming smile onto my face, seeing the peacekeeper keeping a warning eye on me. "My pleasure."

Thea's POV

We walk into the elaborately designed and decorated building that we would be spending our training days in. The furniture and art lining the walls are lavish and ornate, even more so than their building in district four. Though the other building was surely expensive, this one is palatial and is decorated in good taste.

They take us up a glass elevator to the fourth floor where we're to meet our "team", as they call it. Not that they care for our lives beyond what it can do for their status. A lady who look almost identical to Ocie stands waiting for us in the corridor, grimacing.
"She looks like a raven." Gideon quietly remarks dipping his head down to be level with mine.
I glance over at him in surprise. Did he just speak to me? Did he just make a joke?
"Don't look so surprised. We're partners, right?"Gideon whispers again, as if he could read my mind, "Finnick thinks we'd be better off together."
Thank you Finnick.
I smile and glance up at him, "What is with these ladies and their feathers?"

"Oddie, I didn't expect to see you so soon." Ocie's voice drips with exaggerated pleasantness, "I thought tributes met the stylist after they'd been properly cleaned."
Oddie grimaces, "They do. I'm not their stylist anymore."
Ocie's smile shifts to one of genuine joy, "Are you an assistant now?"
She nods curtly, "Tigris Snow requested to be her stylist, and the president naturally obliged."
I glance at Gideon who looks unfazed.
Snow?

Ocie turns to us, beaming, "This is my sister Odette. She will be taking care of you for now."

~~~~

Once they've cleaned, scrubbed, and groomed me to their hearts content, they give me a few articles of clothing to put on and open my curtain to reveal Gideon sitting on a table, waiting.
I sit next to him and we both stare blankly at the wall while we wait for our stylist to come get us ready for the next spectacle. When the door opens we both turn curiously.

A cat like older woman with a kind smile walks over to me. She takes my hands and helps me off the table before spinning me around to get a good look at me, "You're even more beautiful in person. I'm Tigris Snow, I'll be your stylist."
She thinks I'm pretty?

I try not to look too surprised, "Oh, pleasure to meet you Ms. Snow."
"Just Tigris, please." Her kind eyes glide over my face once more, "You're perfect for what I was envisioning for the parade."
I look at her curiously.
"I see you two as a beautiful sunrise over the glistening blue water." She says dreamily.
"A sunrise?"
She nods, "Because the sun won't set on you."

"You're the perfect sun. Radiant and bright, but dangerous if you get too close. And him..." she motions for him to get up and take her hand, which he does like a well trained dog.
"He's the ocean glistening and usually calm, but can quickly become violent."
She snaps at her styling team, "now let's get you two ready for the parade."

Chapter Text

As we stand next to our chariot Gideon raises one bejeweled eyebrow at me, "The costumes are pretty impressive this year."
"Well, with eyebrows like that, I'm sure you'll stand out." I respond trying not to laugh.
He rolls his eyes, "I'll make my impression during the interview."
"How are we going to play this?" Nodding my head towards the exit where I know the capital citizens are eagerly waiting to see us.
He shrugs, "That's up to Finnick as far as I'm concerned. Though, he might just flirt his way into getting us sponsors."

Gideon shifts his view to behind us, "You see the boy from district 11?"
I turn as well and am immediately surprised, "He's huge. Think he's bigger than you?"
Gideon narrows his eyes and gives him a once over, "He's definitely bigger than me. At least 6'5, probably about 250."
I cross my arms, "You think the careers will bring him in to their pack?"
Gideon shakes his head no.
I look up at him incredulously, "Why not? He'd be my pick."
"I think they'll try, but I don't think he'll go for it."
"Why not?"
Gideon nods to the small girl next to him. Shes talking animatedly and he's listening intently.
"He's not leaving her." Gideon says confidently.
"You think he'd give up the careers for her? She can't be older than 13 or 14, she won't last long."
"Were you even paying attention to the reaping?"
I take a defensive step back, "Yes."
"They have the same last name. That means she's probably either his sister or his cousin. Either way, if he's anything like most people. She's his priority."
"Think they were form an alliance with us?"
"I think that would be the smart move for them."

Finnick's POV

I look over to where Thea and Gideon seem to be having a serious conversation. At least he's talking to her.

Gideon's outfit has a clear outer layer that catches the light and shimmers bringing out the blue on the layer underneath. It really does look like water, though the bedazzled eyebrows were an interesting choice. He's wearing a head piece made of kelp that looks similar to a laurel wreath.

Thea's dress is an ankle length and covered in reflective gold tiles that bounce the light off of her as if she herself is the sun. To add to the effect, her skin is also covered in some sort of glitter that makes her sparkle in the light as well as a golden Halo crown.

"Beautiful, aren't they? Made my work easy." Tigris asks snapping me out of my observation.
I glance over at her with my most charming smile, "They look perfect, though I'm sure you would have made them look amazing regardless."
She studies my face for a moment before smiling back with a mischievous glint in her eye, "She's especially beautiful, isn't she?"
I narrow my eyes at her, what is she getting at?
She chuckles, "It's not a riddle Mr. Odair, just a simple observation."
"Stunning." I say, shrugging it off. And for once, it's not a lie or half truth. I'm not sure what it is, maybe the way she carries herself, but there's something about her that makes her stand out in the ocean of people I've met.

"And so kind-hearted too. I'm sure after meeting all the beautiful people you have, that's what resonates with you more." She goes on.
"I don't really know her." I respond, though I got a similar impression of her.
"Then you haven't spoken to her enough today. She's rather chatty when she's nervous. When you talk to her, I'm sure you'll find that she's a diamond in the rough." She continues, "A lot like the impression I got of you when we first met, actually. Although she's not quite as...... charismatic."
I cock an eyebrow at her as if asking what she's trying to say.
"You've always been approachable and likable, I think always wanted to be; she, on the other hand, wants to come off strong, tough, and independent from what I gather. Though I don't personally think she does a very good job at that once you get her talking, not like Gideon. I couldn't get a word out of him."
"He's definitely not a huge talker," I cross my arms and look back at the two of them talking, "but he seems to like Thea so I'm glad about that."
"There's just something about her that you want to trust. Maybe it's because she tells you exactly what's on her mind, she’s honest. Maybe too honest. Sort of makes you honest too.”
That I couldn’t deny. I had spilled my guts as soon as she asked. Honestly? It was a relief to say it out loud. It wasn’t just that she was honest, it was that she cared when you talked, even if she was very judgmental.

“Anyhow,” She shrugs nonchalantly, "I'm just interested to see how the two of you get along once you figure each other out. She asked a lot of questions about you."
The peaks my interest, "Like what?"
"What I've heard about you and what I thought of you so far." She smiles and winks playfully, “I told her all good things of course.”
I bristle and she frowns sympathetically, “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention that, if you’re worried about it.”

I nod curtly and a tense silence looms between us. After all, what else is there to say about that?
“Where's Mags at?" She finally asks.
"She's sick, they let her stay in the tribute apartment for the afternoon."
She nods, "Anyhow, I need to make sure everything is in order before we present Gideon and  Thea to the capital." She says before going to their chariot, leaving me alone.
That was strange.

Thea's POV

"You're definitely going to be capital favorites this year." Tigris says happily as she stares up at us on our chariot as we wait to enter the parade.
I take a deep breath and smile at her, trying to feel grateful. She’s trying to be helpful I’m her own twisted way.
"Just relax for now." Finnick advises, "Strategy is a problem for later. "
"Don't forget to smile." Ocie adds.
I nod and they all both take a step back as the peace keepers ready to release us. They receive their queue and our chariot takes off into the light of the parade track and the screaming of the crowd.

3rd Person POV

President Snow watches from his private box as the procession of tributes emerges to the screams of excited capitol citizens. His eyes fall on the female tribute from District 4, who looks like the sun itself.
Dread pools in his stomach. He doesn't like her. He felt like she was mocking him and the entire capitol, stirring memories long buried and forgotten. Surely after all these years he was the only one who could still recall the incident, he tries to reassure himself. Maybe he was overthinking.
After all, the reaping stirs many strong emotions from the tributes, but something about her presence on stage felt almost performative. Almost like Lucy Gray. He shakes his head and sets his lips into a scowl. He promised himself he'd never think about her again. He hated how this girl forced him to remember his greatest error.
He had already gotten rid of the footage, but he was sure the damage was already done, at least in her district. He didn’t like trouble makers. He couldn't let this girl ruin everything he's built. She was supposed to be from a compliant district. A district that was smart enough to know their place. He'd keep a close eye on her. If she even stepped one more hair out of line he’d know and he'd make sure the odds were not in her favor this year. After all, he has eyes, ears, and hands everywhere and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to silence a voice that was too loud.

Chapter Text

I push the cold eggs around my plate. Training starts today and it's making me feel sick to my stomach. I'm not worried about my skills, or Gideon's, I'm worried that one of those little tributes is going to ask for my help and I'm not going to be able to say no. Gideon and I are already going to be the prey since we decided not to join the career pack and the last thing we need is kids that protect themselves making us more vulnerable.

Mags pats my shoulder and looks at me pleadingly.
"She's telling you that you should eat." Finnick chimes in, shoveling a fork full of eggs into his mouth.
I grimace at my plate, "Why are these eggs so yellow? They look radioactive."
"They're not eggs. It's tofu." Finnick says.
"What's tofu?"
"A meat substitute."
My eyebrows knit together in confusion, "Why would you substitute meat?"
"Some people in the capital don't eat meat to save the animals. They think killing them is inhumane."
I scoff out a laugh, "You can't be serious."
I have truly never heard anything more ironic in my life. Killing animals to eat is inhumane but killing children for entertainment is just fine. I'll never understand them.
Finnick gives me a look as if to remind me they're always listening, "Yes, choosing what you won't eat is a luxury most people in the district can't afford."

I push my plate away, "I'm not really a breakfast person. Do we have any coffee?"
Mags gets a haunted look in her eyes.
Finnick gets pushes the plate back to me, "You're a breakfast person until you get into the arena. You need to eat as much as you can before then in case food is hard to come by."
"Fine." I take a bite of the bacon and make a face. It tastes off.
"Turkey bacon." Finnick tells me.
Couldn't you have mentioned that sooner?
"Can't wait to get back to 4 where we have normal food." Gideon grumbles.
Finnick sighs, "You get used to it."

~~~

Gideon quickly weaves the long blades of grass into intricate baskets to capture fish like the instructor showed us. You wouldn't think someone with such large hands would have such nimble fingers, but Gideon truly surprises me more every day. I suppose it's easy to forget sometimes that the careers are also real people with real talents and interests and not just mindless killing machines.
"Any luck with the boy from district 11?" I ask trying to copy the basket making instructions, but I may be a lost cause. Guess you'll never find basket weaving on my list of skills.
"He took one look at me and walked away. He wouldn't even hear me out. I think they're forming an alliance with the District 7 tributes."
I follow his gaze to where the District 7 tributes are teaching the District 11 tributes to throw axes. I watch the girl from 7 hit the target dead center with her eyes closed.
She'll be dangerous.

"Any ideas?" Gideon asks.
I glance around the training gym to assess our next move. Everyone is wearing black uniforms with their district numbers printed on the back, which makes it easy to track everyone.
The girl from District 10 has joined the careers. She's showing them how to use the lasso she made at the knot tying booth. She moves so adeptly with it that it's like an extension of her own arm.
The boy from her District is with the District 9 tributes in the corner booth learning about edible plants. Nothing about any of them is worth a second thought. They're all average tributes, but average isn't good enough. They'd be lucky to make it to the second half of the game.
The tributes from District 8 are practicing with swords, but they can barely lift the swords. I hope they're fast, because they aren't strong.
The tributes from districts 3, 5, and 6 are having a heated in front of the camouflage booth. If they keep up this rivalry, that would be good for us. It would leave us one less thing to worry about.
The district 12 tributes are at the knot tying booth, and I can see from here that their eyes are practically swollen shut from crying. I wonder if that's because they're here or if it's because their mentor said something to them. Every year, and every time I've seen him since we got here, he's drunk, rude, and entirely unhelpful. I wonder what makes a person that way. They're small, I can't tell if it's because they're young or extremely malnourished. Either way, the District 12 tributes never last long. I feel bad for them, the odds are not in their favor.
I can't tell if everyone is younger and smaller this year, or if they all just look less sad on tv.
I finally look back at Gideon, "I think we stick to the plan, just let me have a try."

I stand up and walk over to the axe throwing booth. I aim the axe at the target and it bounces off.
I sigh dramatically, "Any tips?"
They all side eye me.
"Close range combat is more my thing." I try again.
They all go back to ignoring me and I notice girl from 11 pushes her hair out of her face. She's been doing it the whole time.
"Do you want me to braid it for you?" I offer.
She eyes my hair warily. It's haphazardly clipped up with the starfish Alice gave me.
I let out my hair and clip the starfish to the edge of my shirt, "I don't really wear my hair up much, but I braid my little sister Nike's hair all the time. She has the prettiest long blonde hair, not like me at all."
"How old is she?" The girl asks softly.
"She's 14 already, she grew up fast."
The girl smiles softly and glances at her district partner, "Me too."
She cautiously approaches me and hands me some hair ties. I gently tilt her head back and separate her hair. Her District partner grunts.
"Is this your brother?" I ask her as I start braiding the first half of her hair.
She nods, "His name is Sorrel."
"And what's your name?"
"Calytrix, but Caly is fine too. That's what my mama calls me."
"That's beautiful."
"What's your name?"
"Athena, but everyone just calls me Thea." I point behind me to where Gideon is now learning to tie knots, "And that's my District partner, Gideon. He looks kind of scary, but he isn't really."
"I talked to him earlier." Sorrel interjects.
Calytrix smiles up at me broadly, "Neither is Sorrel."
He grumbles something to the girl from 9 and she nods before he stalks off towards Gideon.
I wonder if this is working.

I finish Calytrix's hair and turn to the boy from 9, "Would you like me to braid your hair too?"
He stares at me apprehensively for a moment before looking at his District partner, then Calytrix before he turns back to me and nods.
I gesture him over and start the same process on his hair, except his hair is dark and it feels softer than silk, "And what's your name?"
"That's Jolon." His district partner chimes in. He spoke in an accent I had never heard before, "He don't talk."
"And you?" I ask
"Name is Atonia."
"Pleasure to meet you, I hope we can all be friends."
Friends. Such a strange word to use in a situation like this. That isn't what we are, not really. At the end of the day, we know only one of us gets to go home, that eventually we'd have no choice but to turn on each other if we could even make it that far. Really, we're just trying to die with dignity in the least painful way we can.

Sorrel rejoins the group with Gideon in tow and nods at us.
"They're with us now." Sorrel tells the other, leaving no room for discussion.
Calytrix smiles, "I like them already."
Somehow, I get the feeling that she likes everyone.

~~~

I lie awake in my bed staring up at the ceiling mulling over the events of the day. Over Calytrix and Jolon. They don't belong in here, not any more than Alice did. If it comes down to it, I know I'd sacrifice myself for them, but I'm worried I won't even get the chance. Hopefully we can hide them. My mind wanders back to the tear stained faces of the District 12 tributes. I could see in their eyes how they'd already resigned themselves to their fates. They're beyond my help. They'll never make it home, kids like them never do, but they're all I see every time I close my eyes.

I kick my blankets off and stand up, Might as well try and fatten myself up a bit if I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway.
I quietly pad out to the kitchen and, much to my surprise, Mags and Finnick are already out there. She slides a bowl of strawberry ice cream in front of him and gently pats his head. It's very motherly. For once, I can see his guard completely down and he looks exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally. I wonder what took its toll on him. Was it the games?
I stand in the entryway debating whether or not to stay until Mags sets a second bowl of ice cream on the counter and motions for me to take it.
I nod at her gratefully and sit down on the stool next to Finnick.

I take a generous spoonful and let it melt on my tongue. I've had ice cream before, but nothing like this. It had to be the creamiest most delicious thing I had ever tasted.
I look at Finnick with wide eyes and he chuckles.
"Pretty good, isn't it?"

I nod and shove another spoonful into my mouth, deciding to ask the question that's been on my mind all day, "What do you think about the tributes from 12?"
Finnick doesn't even look at me, "They're the same as the tributes from 12 are every year, why?"
"There's just something so much sadder about them in real life. Nobody even pretends they have a chance, nobody cares. They have the worst stylists, the worst media team, a mentor that doesn't even train them, and nobody in their corner." I explain, pushing the ice cream around in their bowl, "They know they're going to die, but they shouldn't have to die scared and alone."
Finnick frowns deeply, "At the end of the day, most of those kids do, even the careers."
"Can me and Gideon help them? I know
they can't be our allies, I don't want them to be, but what about tips in training? I want to give them something."

Finnick looks up at me, "You kind of have a hero complex, you know that?"
"Do not." I say defensively.
"You're not fooling anyone. Everything you've done since I met you was to help someone else. If you're going to lie, at least do it better."
"I do it because I know I can handle myself. When it comes down to it, I know what I'm going to have to do and I can."

He sighs, "Have you ever heard the analogy of the starfish?"
I shake my head no.
"Well, a girl was walking on a beach covered in thousands of starfish that had washed up in a storm. They couldn't get back in the ocean so they were going to die in the sun. The girl started picking up starfish one by one and throwing them in the ocean. An old man approached her and said, 'You can't save all those starfish.'.
She picked up another one and held it up for the old man to see and said, 'But I can save this one.' Then threw it back in the water." Finnick recounts.
"What's your point?"
"You think you're the girl, but you're actually one of the starfish. You can't take the other starfish back to the water, you're the one that needs to get back to the water."
Mags rubs my shoulder comfortingly and tosses Finnick a look.
I can see all of this weighing on him. I want to be upset at him, but I just feel like I’m missing something. He seemed to dislike all of this so much the other day so why doesn’t he seem to care about anything but winning now? Maybe he was just telling me what I wanted to hear, but he looked so genuine. Something tells me I’m not the only starfish in this kitchen.

Chapter Text

Mags slides bowls of oatmeal with nuts and raisins on top in front of me and Gideon and smiles warmly.
"That's oatmeal." Finnick teases.
I chuckle and Gideon suppresses a small smile.
"What's the catch? Is it made with beetle milk or something?" I joke back.
Finnick's clear and crisp laugh echos through the kitchen, and I can't help but smile proudly as I take a bite of my food. He really does have a great laugh, and basically everything else.

Ocie strides out of the elevator looking just as bird like as usual. Her hair is bright blue now and Her eyelashes go almost to her hairline. They have a patter that resembles peacock feathers. She's wearing green lipstick that reminds me of when my sister woke me up as a kid at to tell mom and dad she threw up because she was scared to tell them herself.
Despite the heat, she's wearing a blue peacock with shiny black buttons and tight leather pants that are connected to her shoes.
I guess her pants are her shoes. Or are her shoes her pants? I'll never understand capital fashion. My mom always told me you can't buy class and she's a perfect example of that.

"We're running late! We need to get to the training center right away!" She squawked.
Gideon quickly shovels oatmeal into his mouth and I chew slowly as I look at her
"What's your house like?" I ask.
"I live in a beautiful high rise penthouse. It's not that different from this aside mine being decorated much better.... oh and the bars on the windows and such."  She adds dismissively.
"Do you have neighbors?"
"Yes, of course."
I take another bite of my oatmeal, careful not to break eye contact, "Does it bother them every morning when you start crowing because the sun came up?"
A choking sound comes from Gideon and I can see the amusement in Finnick's eyes. Even Mags can't help but smile.
Ocie's jaw clenches, "Get in the elevator."

~~~

Gideon and I join Calytrix, Sorrel, Atonia, and Jolon at the sword both.
"I don't think you're gonna be able to move fast enough with one of these." We catch Atonia saying to Calytrix. Even with one of the smaller swords in her hands, her arms shake just holding it up.
"If we even get one." Sorrel interjects gruffly.

"Are you fast Caly?" I ask
She nods proudly, "Fastest in my class."
"I'd bet you can make it to the Cornucopia before the careers. They're usually not as fast as some of the smaller tributes."
Sorrel grunts, "She is not going into the cornucopia. It's a blood bath."
"What do you suggest then?" I ask incredulously, "Her to be a sitting duck for the careers?"
"No, she and Jolon can run and hide and we'll find them after the bloodbath."
"What if someone gets to them first? Our best bet is sticking together. We need someone fast to run ahead and try to get what we're looking for. We can protect them once we get there. We're at least as fast as the careers are and Gideon and I are just as well trained."
"Jolon is fast." Atonia offers "never seen someone run faster."
He nods vigorously.
"So we don't need Caly." Sorrel says stubbornly. He is not letting her anywhere near the cornucopia.
"I don't like the idea of sending her off alone." I argue.
"Then you go with her. I hear your pa was a victor so you should be able to protect her."
I shake my head no, "You're going to want me at the cornucopia."
Gideon nods.
"How about Atonia?" He asks, "She could keep 'em out of trouble 'til we get there."
I look between them and shrug, "That could work."
Atonia hesitates for a moment, "Just promise you'll mind Jolon for me."
Sorrel and I nod and Gideon grunts in agreement.

"What would you be hopin' for weapon wise?" He asks her.
"I'm best with an axe, but anything with a good handle should be fine."
He nods, "We'll try to get you one."
"Which-"

We all turn around as we hear a scream and see Emma holding a slingshot and standing with the careers at a booth on the other side of the gym.
She's laughing maniacally. A peace keeper hits her with a club and she folds to the floor, but doesn't stop laughing.
At the booth across from them, the girl from 12 clutches her bleeding head. A rock is lying at her feet and I can hear her sobs from over here.

I look up at Gideon with a slackened jaw and he shakes his head before looking back at me, "You should go help her."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Really?"
He shrugs, "Finnick told you should help the other tributes with little things in training because you can never have too many people feel like they owe you."
"Oh really? When did he tell you that?"
"Yesterday morning."
Yesterday morning. Before our conversation. Why not give us the same advice?

I grab a towel before I make my way over to the District 12 tributes. They shrink back towards the wall as I approach. I hold my hands up so that they know I'm not going to hurt them.
"Can I look at that?" I ask her softly.
She sniffles and wipes her eyes as she tries to stop crying.
I gingerly approach her and she inclines her head so I can see the wound on the back. Her already messy hair is caked in blood. She flinches as I gently push her hair over her shoulder and examine the wound. The rock doesn't seem to have cracked her skull, fortunately for her. I neatly fold the towel and hold it to the back of her head.
I motion the boy over and position his hands on the towel. "Keep pressure on it." I instruct him.

I pick up the bloody rock and turn towards the careers who I can see quietly arguing.
"Hey Emma!" I call striding over.
She turns and I pelt the rock at her face, "Catch."
It hits her square in the nose which immediately starts gushing blood. She screams and starts laughing again, "I'm going to kill you! I'm going to have fun killing you! I'm going to make it hurt!"

The peacekeepers start striding over to me and I hold my hands up in surrender.
"Sorry it was an accident! Just trying to get the rock back to its station." I lie.
One of the peacekeepers hits me in the back of the knees with his baton, knocking me to the ground, but doesn't continue the beating.
"Don't let it happen again." He says low and warning.

Chapter Text

I slip into a satin nightgown that one of the avoxs left out on the bed for me. It's not something I would personally choose, but what does it really matter what I wear to sleep? I'm grateful for the help regardless, despite the fact that they don't have a choice.
I climb into bed and close my weary eyes. Sleep should come easy after the day I had, but it continues to allude me.
Pretending to fill my mind with a massive pink bubble that blocks out thoughts? Something that normally would help me, but not today.
Pretending to turn the light in my body off? Who even came up with that? Has it ever worked for anyone?
Counting sheep? Useless, but it does sort of make me hungry.

I know I need to get as much sleep as I can before I go into the arena, but it's not coming to me anytime soon. I sigh and let my mind wander back over the events of the day. The careers don't seem as united this year as they usually do. I guess it's hard to be on the same team as someone who's a few fish short of a school like that girl from 1. I put a target on my back today. Those poor kids from 12. They're going to be easy targets in the arena. Hopefully that at least means they won't suffer. There are worse fates than dying immediately and that becomes more and more clear every year. I still have nightmares about the year thousands of beetle mutts came out of a tree and suffocated a tribute.

Once again, I get up for a snack, and once again, when I go to the kitchen Finnick is already there.
"Do you ever sleep?" I ask him.
"Rarely." He responds without turning around, "Are you hungry?"
"Kind of, or maybe I'm just stressed."
He points to the oven, "Mags just went to bed but she made you a snack. She figured you'd be hungry."
I furrow my brow and peak into the oven. There's some kind of baked pastry in there.
I grab a towel to pull it out and set it on the counter. It's so fresh, there's still steam coming off of it, and it smells heavenly.

I cut into it and cheese and marmalade start oozing out. Baked brie.
The last time I had this was at my father's funeral. This was his favorite. My mom would always make it for him right before he left for the capital, when he got back, on his birthday, or anytime she indulge his cravings.

I remember waking up from a nightmare one year when I was young, after the games. He had just come back from after mentoring a set of tributes that had died in a particularly gruesome way. I found him sitting in the kitchen, in the dark, staring at the wall and eating the leftover Brie from the day before.
Normally, he would have told me to be strong and not to cry because I was a Blaine then send me back to bed; but that night he pulled me into his lap, held me tight, shared the Brie with me. That was the only time he had ever let me sit in his lap. Looking back I wonder how much of a toll mentoring took on him.

I scoop a slice onto my plate before hastily putting a bite in my mouth. I close my eyes as I let the flavors settle on my tongue and I feel tears start to prick the back of my eyes.
Thank you Mags.
Finnick finally looks in my direction, "Is that baked Brie?"
I open eyes and nod.
A small smile crosses Finnick's face, "Ares made this for me the night before we got our scores from the game makers. He said Mags had made it for him the night before he got his score and that he made it a tradition for all of his tributes.”
I grab another plate and cut a big slice that I take over to Finnick. He takes a big bite and closes his eyes as he savors the flavor.
We finish the rest of the Brie in a comfortable silence, and I feel connected to him, even if it’s just for a moment.

Finnick takes our dishes and begins cleaning them, “You should try to sleep. You’re going to want as much rest as possible before you go into the arena.”
"The longer I lay in my bed, the further from falling asleep I feel."
"You know what helps me?"
"Not being sent into an arena to fight to the death with 23 other kids?" I retort sarcastically.
He chuckles and turns around. Naturally, his laugh is perfect, just like everything else about him. Life gets less fair every day, not that I don't have bigger problems to think about.
"Fresh air." He says.
"Shame that I'm stuck in here."
"You could go to the roof."
"The roof?"
"It's nice up there, I promise." He nods towards the elevator, "Trust me on this one."

I hesitate for a moment before I sigh and follow him to the elevator. We ride it all the way to the top where there's a small cement room with a door. When he opens the door, fresh cold night air hits me in the face. It's kind of refreshing. I haven't been able to feel the wind on my face like this since before I left 4.  I step out onto the roof and look around to see it's covered in beautiful red roses. Probably the most beautiful I've ever seen. I wonder who they belong to.

The door shuts behind us and Finnick saunters over to the railing and looks over the city, "You want to know something else about starfish?"
"Besides For them burning in the sun?" I ask dryly stopping next to him.
"I always loved them as a kid. I would dive for them when my mom took me to the beach. They're resilient. They're hard on the outside. If you cut them up, they'll grow back."
"So?"
"So there's more to them than burning in the sun and you should remember that."
"Why? Because I'm a starfish?"
He nods, "I think we're all kind of starfish. You, me, Mags, Gideon, all of us. If we can help each other, we should. The capital is set on watching us burn in the sun and one girl isn't going to save us all. Not when the capital is set on watching us all burn in the sun."

"Huh." I furrow my brow, "You're one to talk about liars. You care too."
He leans on the railing and lowers his voice, "I never said you shouldn't lie, I said you should be better at it."
I scoff out a laugh.
"I'm serious, the truth is a dangerous thing. Saying it will get you in trouble and they're always listening."
I lean on the railing next to him, "So why are you saying this now?"
"Because they can't hear us."
"I thought you said they were always listening."
"They are, but they can't hear us here."
"Why not? How do you know?"
"Because we're on the roof."
"You think they're is above bugging the roof?"
"No, but it's windy and we're outside so a microphone won't pick up anything."

"Gideon told me that you told him he should help people for the time being because you could never have to many people that like you." I comment.
“I did.”
“That’s not what you told me. You told me to watch out for myself.”
“That’s not what you needed to hear. You don’t need to be told to care about people, you just do. You need to be told to care about yourself.”
“You couldn’t have known that yet.”
“Ares talked about you a lot. He told me you never listened to a thing he told you because you didn’t like what he had to say. He didn’t know whether to be proud of you or worried about you.”
I smile, “More like disappointment in me.”
“No, never that. He was glad you didn’t listen to him. He said the older he got the more he realized how wrong he was.”
“What do you mean?”
Finnick shrugs, “He wouldn’t say. I think you being eligible for the reaping on top of mentoring so many tributes just changed him. I don’t think he liked the way things were.”

“He was a lot like Gideon, only spoke when he had something to say.” I run a pebble from the ledge between my fingers, “Was the last time you saw him when he was mentoring you?”
Finnick shakes his head no, “No, I was with him in the hospital when he was dying. They brought me in to take over for him as a mentor when he got sick.”
I stare at him for a long moment before I sigh, “I’m glad you were there and he didn’t die alone.”
He stares back and offers me a small smile, “I’m glad I was too. He taught me a lot.”
The way he says it tells me he didn’t just learn about the game from my father.
“You’ll have to tell me more if I make it through this.”
Finnick nods, “We’ll have plenty to talk about.”

We continue to stare at each other for a long moment and an understanding passes between us.
“Were you scared?” I ask.
“Yes and no. I wasn’t worried about dying, but I was worried about how I died. I was worried about my family.”
I nod and I feel my eyes tear up again, “Me too.”
He lets out another sigh and wraps his arm around my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. I appreciate that he doesn’t lie or tell me it’s going to be alright. He’s just here. That’s the best thing he could be.

Chapter Text

I gently grab the hand that's prodding me awake.
"No Nike. I'm sore." I mutter, still mostly asleep.
But it's not Nike. This hand is gentle, dry, and shaky. Nike's hands are callous, firm,
steady, and always sweaty like she's been up for hours training before she asks me to spar.
My eyes pop open and meet the large deer-like ones staring back at me. They're so dark, I can't tell where her iris ends and her pupil begins.
I quickly release her hand, "Sorry."
She blinks back a few times before pointing towards the bathroom where I can see my training uniform laying on the edge of the seat.

My eyes trail over the flakey and cracked skin of her hands before I stand up and walk over to the dresser, "Come here for a minute."
I see the alarm on her face as she hesitantly approaches me. My hatch aches for her.
What did they do to you?
I grab a bottle of the expensive lotion they provided me with and squirt a generous amount in my palm. I extended my other hand to her, "May I?"
Her expression shifts to surprise and she puts her hand in mine. I gently massage the lotion into the skin of her hand and her eyes shut for a moment. I can see tears pricking the corner of her eyes.
How long has it been since anyone was kind to her?
I put more lotion in my palm and repeat the process on her other hand. Once I'm done, she wrings her hands together and offers me a grateful smile.

I take a shower while I still can and put on my training uniform before making my way out to the kitchen.
"Hey Emma! Catch!" Gideon shouts in a high pitched voice before he chucks a roll at Finnick's face.
Finnick dramatically falls over and squirts some water with food dye into the air from next to his head.
Mags chuckles and shakes her head, and I can't help but smile at the scene.

It's strange to think I had never even spoken to either of them before a few days ago. In moments like this, we sort feel like a family.
They both look so young right now, so normal, so domestic. There's a  big goofy smile on Finnick's face and even Gideon is smirking.
I wonder if this is how Gideon is at home with his family and his friends. I wonder if this is the real Gideon. At school he never talks or even smiles, but here he's sort of funny. In another life we could have been friends, but there's no chance of that in this life. By the time all is said and done, at least one of us will be dead.
Sometimes it's hard to believe Gideon is only 17 and Finnick is only 19. We all had to grow up so fast that it's easy to forget they're still teenagers. Really, we're all still kids.

"What did she do next?" Finnick asks excitedly.
"Then she started laughing like a maniac and told Thea how much fun she's going to have killing her."
Finnick scoffs and his smile fades. His face gets hard and serious, "That's not going to happen."
Gideon smile doesn't drop, but it does darken, "Not if we kill her first."
And just like that, the lighthearted moment is over. A blanket of silence falls over us as the reality of what's going to happen sets back in.
Finnick sighs and grabs a dish towel to clean up the fake blood that doesn't seem so funny anymore.

All of our pancakes sit untouched on the table. Guess nobody is feeling very hungry this morning. As I look around the table I realize how much I'm going to miss each of them. My brow furrows as I slip deeper into thought, and my eyes linger on Gideon. Selfishly, I hope that if I have to die, I go before Gideon. I don't want to see him die. I don't want to see him suffer. If it ever came down to it, I don't think I could ever kill him. As his eyes drag up from the table to meet mine, I'm not sure he could kill me either.

Finnick seems to notice my inner turmoil and rests his hand on the table, palm up. I take a deep shuttering breath and rest my hand on top of his. After a moment, his fingers gently encircle my hand and give it a small reassuring squeeze.

Mags collects our plates of untouched food and takes them to the kitchen. She comes back with four steaming mugs of coffee. As she sets my mug in front of me, my hand darts out to give hers a gentle, grateful squeeze, "Thank you Mags."
She drops a gentle kiss on the top of my head.
The boys mutter their 'thank you's as she places their mugs down and she gives them each a kiss on the top of their heads.
We all sit quietly sit around the table and drink it despite how hot it still is.

When Ocie arrives to escort us even she, as dense as she seems to be, immediately picks up on the dismal atmosphere; but instead of respecting our mutual silence she happily skips over to the table. Today, her hair is bright pink and her eyelashes and lips are bedazzled. Her outfit is a pink faux training uniform with rhinestone detailing and a mini skirt instead of pants. It's in very poor taste, especially today.
"Cheer up everyone. It's the last day of training! I even dressed for the occasion!" She chirps in a singsongy voice.
The rest of us exchange an incredulous look.
She plants her hands on her hips and mockingly pouts, "What?"

I look over at her, not even trying to mask my distaste, "Do you ever worry that your hair dye is seeping into your brain?"
The insult goes over her head, "No, why?"
"She's saying you're an idiot." Gideon grunts.
Ocie narrows her eyes at us, "I hate both of you, I hope you know that. You ungrateful creatures don't deserve my help. You're lucky I'm so kind. If I was a lesser person I would leave you to die, but I'll try to get you sponsors."
"You don't do it because you're kind. You do it because it makes you look good and-"
Finnick kicks me under the table and gives me a commanding look that lets me know it's time to stop talking.
"You are very kind, gracious, and forgiving. Thank you so much." Finnick says offering her a charming smile, "I promise they'll be more grateful when you see them tomorrow."
She blushes and giggles at him before playfully swatting his arm, "Oh Mr. Odair, no need to thank me. It's just in my nature."
"It's your nature to be a-" I grumble under my breath before Finnick cuts me off by giving me a warning look.
"A lot kinder than we deserve." I complete begrudgingly.
Finnick looks at Gideon and he sighs, "Thank you."
She shoots us a dirty look and rolls her eyes, "Let's get you two to training."

Chapter Text

I gently take the trident from Calytrix's hands, "It's better if you can get an angle on it, like this."
I lunge at the training dummy and plunge the trident into the section that would be at the bottom of the ribs at an upward angle.
"It's too heavy to run with." She runs her fingers along the handle of the trident before looking up at me and motioning me closer, "Are they going to be watching all day?"
I subtlety peer over my shoulder at the District 12 tributes watching us from the next booth over. They haven't been more than a few feet away from me all day. They had yet to approach me, I think they were afraid, but they had been following me around all morning.
I sigh heavily, "I think so."

My eyes wander over Calytrix's shoulder to Atonia and Gideon at the edible plants section. She seems to be showing him the difference between an edible berry and its poisonous counterpart. Then, I look past them and see Jolon demonstrating his skills with a slingshot to Sorrel. He has impressive accuracy.
Calytrix's gaze follows mine and she's quiet for a long moment, "Why aren't I good at anything?"
"You just haven't found what you're good at yet." I assure her.
"Training ends tomorrow and all I've found are a lot of things I'm bad at." She tears her eyes away from her brother to look up at me, "I know I'm a burden to the rest of you."
"You're not a burden." I argue, but the words sound empty even to me. We all know she puts us at a disadvantage, but none of us care. We care about her.
Her eyes start watering, "Sorrel has a chance to make it home, but he's going to die because of me."
"Hey." I pull her into a firm hug, "Nobody is dying because of anyone. We're dying because-" I cut myself off.
The words 'the capital is evil and they get some sort sick pleasure from our suffering' are on the tip of my tongue; but Finnick's words, They're always listening, echo in my mind.
I sigh and look directly at where I know the Game makers are watching from, "Because the Districts rebelled 70 years ago before we, or almost anyone we know, were even born, and we lost. They want us scared because they're scared. They know if there's another rebellion they won't win again."
Calytrix shushes me, "You can't say that."

I pull back and look down at her, "Let's go try throwing knives, maybe you'll be good at throwing knives."
I'm sure not, so hopefully that'll at least make her feel better.

Third Person POV

One of the Game makers slips out the back door of the president's mansion and stands on the patio waiting to be noticed by Snow, who was in his lush garden having tea with his granddaughter.

Irritation flashes across Snow's face as his eyes land on the Game maker. He gently sets his teacup on the small glass table and he pushes himself to his feet.
His smile turns dangerous as he approaches the Game maker, "This better be important for you to come to my home and interrupt my quality time with my granddaughter."
The underlying warning was present. If Snow didn't deem this exchange to have been worth his time, the Game maker would be dealt with.

"Sorry for the interruption, but I have some concerning footage." The Game maker says holding up a tablet.
Snows sighs, "Go on then."
The Game maker presses play on the footage and he immediately stiffens as sees the girl from District 4, Athena Blaine, on the screen. She's clutching one of the other tributes, one Snow saw as an unremarkable young girl with two braids, against her.
"Nobody is dying because of anyone. We're dying because-" Athena begins to tell the girl before pausing. She sighs, "Because the Districts rebelled 70 years ago before we, or almost anyone we know, were even born, and we lost. They want us scared because they're scared. They know if there's another rebellion they won't win again."
The girl shushes her, "You can't say that."
Snow's jaw clenches. He thought he took care of the problem when he took care of Ares Blaine. He should have known better than that. He's always known better than that. He knew it when he was 18, he knew it when he was 48, and he knew it now. The problem was he had lost his focus at the time.

Ares Blaine had truly been one of his favorite victors. A perfect picture, a perfect pawn, perfectly compliant. He treated Snow with the reverence he thought he deserved. Snow had cared for him, at least in some capacity. Sort of like the way one might care about a loyal dog. Even so, if your dog turned on you and you knew it was going to attack you, you'd put it down, right? Snow really thought it was a shame that Ares just had to start poking around in things that were none of his business. Did he really think he was helping his daughters? Snow thought that was laughable.

"What should I do?" The Game maker asks softly.
Snow huffs, "Bring me Finnick Odair, now."

Athena's POV

Everyone sits with whatever allies with what allies they have as they pick through the lunches they provided us with. The District 12 tributes hover just outside of our groups circle. Everyone keeps casting uneasy looks at them.
Calytrix opens her mouth the say something, but Sorrel cuts her off, "Don't."
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"I can see it all over your face. You feel bad for them."
She frowns and shrugs.

I sigh and glance at them over my shoulder. I gather up my lunch and walk over to them.
"I'm not really hungry today. You want this?" I offer quietly.
They look at each other before nodding at me excitedly. I leave the food and walk back over to my group.
"They're going to think you're going to protect them." Antonia warns me.
"They're safer without me, you all are. We know at least Emma is coming for me."
Gideon grunts and pats my knee, "We're safer with you, trust me. We're lucky to have someone like you watching our back."
I pat his hand on my knee, "I hope you're right."