Her Mother's Daughter

by hellish_honey_fox

Summary:

District Thirteen’s intervention into the 75th Hunger Games created a tentative pause in bloodshed, as the aged President Coriolanus Snow tried to keep a handle on his power. A civil war was waged, but eventually the Second Rebellion was squashed, and Thirteen was brought back into the fold under the new president Alma Coin following peace talks. The victors were given no vote on whether to start the games again, but their families were given immunity from the reapings… until now.

Twenty years after the 75th hunger games, a new villain has risen from the ashes of the old. Celeste Snow, granddaughter to the tyrant President Snow, wants to resurrect the old ways of the Games. And what she wants, she gets. With the support of capitol citizens wishing for their old way of life back, and former peacekeepers eager for blood, the newly elected President Snow rises to power.

Thrust into a life she never thought she’d live, Willow Mellark must learn to put on a show. Just like her mother before her, she must compete in the games. But this time, more than just her own life is on the line. 

Notes:

Well, well, well. The reader has become the author.

I started writing this in 2020, and since SOTR came out, have picked it back up again. It is halfway done at the time of posting (miss me w/ that curse pls) so I will update frequently! And also the story is all plotted out, so if you see any holes no you don't. Anyways, without further ado...

Chapter 1: Prologue - In Less Than a Day

"We all know what we've done
We must be killers
Children of the wild ones
Killers, where we got left to run?" -Mikky Ekko

Katniss

I remember the war like it was yesterday. Before the cannon had sounded to start the Quarter Quell, I had been rescued from the arena and hidden away in some District Thirteen prison with Peeta and the other tributes. Some had escaped the arena on their own, but no one could escape the war. District One fell on the first day. District Two surrendered and joined the Capitol forces on day two. By day four, even District Thirteen had fallen to the newfound might of the reinstated Capitol of Panem. That wasn’t even where the nightmare began.

I remember listening to the radio in shock, Peeta sitting across from me, his eyes shuttered and his mouth a thin line. There was no footage, just reports of the damage, the death. I couldn’t believe that it was happening again. Then we had been broken out of that prison, taken to the Capitol in chains, and put on trial by Alma Coin herself. In a way, this new Panem that I had barely dared hope for had been seized before it had even begun, but they had put a stop to the Games. For now.

Thirteen fought hard to pardon the Victors who had aided them. Coin revealed her treachery when it came to light that peace talks between Snow and Thirteen had been ongoing for months before the Games. In the end, only the soldiers were jailed or hanged. The Victors were sent home.

Men in white swarmed the districts, killing anyone who tried to relight the spark of rebellion. There was no mercy. In one fell swoop, the revolution I’d unwittingly brought about had been undone. The world had spun out of control, back into the tyranny which had plagued our nation for so long, back into the darkness that I’d only just learned could be banished.

Of course Peeta and I considered running, but at that point we were being watched more often than not. Peeta and I were needed, along with the other Victors, to perform a role once again. We needed to show the new unity between Thirteen and the Capitol. We had to pretend the war had been a simple uprising, and had been shut down by Snow and Coin, working together, in all their mercy.

But the radio broadcast was so real, and the two stations Beetee had helped to establish were being silenced as we flipped between the channels. We switched the channels until midnight, until the last station stopped broadcasting individual voices, and each just rang with the words of the Panem anthem, and Coin’s voice.

There was a distinct moment a week after, where I began shoving food in a bag, determined that we would leave. But leave where? District Thirteen was a recognized District now, and it had been taken into the fold. Twelve was completely overwhelmed with Peacekeepers. There was nowhere left to go but the woods. There was nothing out there for us. Prim didn’t want to live off the land and Gale… well he and I weren’t on speaking terms back then. And even if we had left, we would always be hunted.

I didn’t get to weigh our options for much longer, because that same night, there was a knock on the door of our homes, and we were called to the Capitol.

In the Capitol we were ordered to perform. So perform we did.

When Coin told us to have our wedding, we did. A massive, all white, public ceremony to usher in a new era of peace. The day after, Snow handed his power over to Coin in a ceremony even more opulent.

Coin told us to have a child, so we did. We had Willow. I was eighteen. My mother brought her into the world with Prim’s help, and I cried and I vowed never to have another.

But two years later, she ordered another after an uprising in Seven. This time, they’d sent Prim to the Capitol to get a medical education. They had my sister, so we did.

Peeta and I lived two lives, one in the Capitol with the other Victors, attending banquets and parties and smiling for the cameras. The other life in Twelve, slow, sombre and simple. Peeta painted. I hunted. And we both tried to forget. We raised our children. Gale disappeared into the woods with Madge Undersee. Prim came home.

Slowly things went back to how they were. With one exception: our families had immunity from the reapings.

That was the only reason we brought Anemone into the world. The only reason I dared to love my children.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1- Troubling Times

Summary:

Snow's Granddaughter has entered the chat.

Notes:

Here is the 1st chapter! Thanks for reading :)

Willow

I remember that night in mid October very clearly. It was past midnight when I was awoken by a crash from downstairs, and then shouting. Of course my parents almost never argued, so the loud noise was a shock. And even more shocking, the shouting was coming from my father, who never raised his voice. Ever.

Peeta Mellark, my father, had yelled. In the sixteen years I’d been alive, the worst he’d done was raise his voice in a stern manner. Even when I’d painted on the walls as a child, all he’d done was explained in his serious tone that canvases and paper were for painting, walls were not. Even when I snuck out to meet Laura Lovat when I was far too young to be out on my own, or when my grades sunk below average because I kept wandering the woods instead of studying. When my father raised his voice something was seriously wrong.

I bolted from the bed, flinging my blankets aside as I crept to the stairs. The wood banister was cool to the touch and my bare feet sunk into the heavy carpet. The paintings on the wall shuddered with each heavy footstep from downstairs. Our house rattled in the night. Now I could hear my mother sobbing, begging. I heard another voice, an unfamiliar one, shouting commands.

Between the wooden beams of the rail, I could see soldiers dressed in black and white. Their appearance made me suck in a breath. The black plastic helmets, and the black batons at their hips reminded me of photos I’d seen from before the Second Rebellion. They looked like the Capitol soldiers, more deadly than the peacekeepers. They usually protected the President, so why were there here of all places?

The soldiers rummaged through our home, barging into rooms, checking behind curtains, tearing down paintings. One soldier snatched my arm in a vise like grip and dragged me to the living room. I barely caught myself on a chair, else I would’ve fallen face first onto the floor. It wasn’t long before Rye and Anemone were rounded up by soldiers in black and white, corralled into our living room. Anemone clung to my father, her sleepy blue eyes clearly not understanding what was happening. Rye and I huddled next to our mother on the sofa, wide eyes scanning the room.

“What is the meaning of this?” Asked my father, his voice low and threatening.

“Shut it,” said a soldier savagely, his voice loud and threatening. The way his hand tightened on his baton promised violence if any of us tried to protest.

A moment later the door creaked, and in walked a woman, dressed in a crisp white pantsuit. Her brown hair was styled in a sleek ponytail, her face done up with dark powder around her eyes. She looked imposing, perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three years old, far too young for the crease between her brows. She regarded us with one delicate eyebrow cocked up. I wanted to slap the smug look on her face right off.

“There is no need for the rudeness,” she chided the soldier who had snapped at my father. “Nor is there for hysterics. Mellarks, allow me to formally greet you, and express my regret for barging into your home in such a… dramatic fashion. I’m sure you know who I am?”

“Celeste Snow,” my mother said, her voice rough.

Coin’s named successor? The Late President Snow’s granddaughter? I couldn’t believe my eyes. She paused, examining us before turning to look around our home. She scanned the room with barely disguised curiosity, her eyes catching on the paintings and the birds hanging in the kitchen that my mother and I had caught. While she inspected us, the soldiers in black and white stood at attention around us, ensuring we couldn’t escape.

“President Alma Coin is dead.” My father sucked in a breath as my mother’s eyebrows dipped low. The president had died? Why hadn’t there been a broadcast? Why was her successor here?

“I’ve come with a request,” a rueful smile crossed the lips of the future president. “Well, actually I’m afraid it’s a demand.” She crossed her arms loosely over her stomach. “You see, I’m going to have a particular issue between the Capitol and the Districts. Obviously they’ll all come to heel, but some will no doubt become tricky,” her voice seemed to slip into disgust for a split second before she caught herself. Her icy eyes slid over me and my family as if we were nothing but burnt bread. “I need stability and,” she tapped a slim finger on her jaw, seeming to search for a word. “A cult following that only the Mockingjay can provide. So I have a proposition for you.” She locked eyes with my mother, her eyebrows drawing together.

“Spend three months out of every year in the Capitol as my own personal guests, and I’ll let your family continue living. All I need from you are speeches, an air of amicability towards me, and smiles from the camera. Do we have a deal?” Her tone was downright condescending. If I hadn’t wanted to shove her into a pile of cow manure before, I certainly did then. But my angry thoughts slowly registered the absolute silence of the room. No one spoke, no one moved.

I myself was conflicted, to live on someone else’s terms, or die on my own. What kind of a life would we have in the Capitol? I was no fool, I’d read about the way they treated the Victors of the Games. I knew the insanity brought about by copious amounts of wealth. Everything there was so artificial. And yet, perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as all that.

My mother seemed to be warring with herself, her eyes fixed on the carpet. My father stood solemnly, silent tears running down his cheeks. I understood. The lump at the back of my throat was seconds from breaking. My eyes were dry, but my bottom lip quivered. If I was about to die, all I could think about was everything I hadn’t done yet. And the selfish thought of why I had been dragged into my parents’ mess. But of course, my mother had nearly led a revolution, the question was why hadn’t I been dragged into this sooner?

I had half expected my mother to never answer, for her to just go mute to avoid the question. But when she lifted her head, murder in her eyes, I knew what was about to happen. Her voice was strong and clear, echoing through the silent room. It was hopeless and hollow, but there was a hidden spark. “Deal. Let’s negotiate terms.” 

Late June, one year later.

My bag was a heavy weight on my shoulder as we waited for the train. We stood in silence at the station, all five of us. Anemone was fidgeting in my mother’s arms, her curling blond hair was stuck in her mouth. Her bright blue eyes darted around. She was busy tugging on my mother’s hair, but my mother took no notice, her eyes were distant. My father’s face held a similar distance, but he still managed to crack a smile when he noticed me looking.

We had been called to the Capitol again. It was the fifth time this year. The initial deal my mother had made with the new president had been changed. This time, Celeste knew she had my mother under her thumb. Sometimes I felt guilty that I was the reason my mother had agreed to this. That me and my siblings had become bargaining chips, little pawns for the Capitol.

The train whooshed into the station, sending my dark hair askew. I never wore it back, but perhaps that day I should’ve. I could never wear a braid, it didn’t seem right, and it made me look like my mother. There was one day that I had, and it had sent my mother into one of her episodes. She had apologized for it afterwards, and explained why. But she hadn’t needed to explain. Just like the mockingjay pin that she kept hidden in her jewelry box, the braid was a symbol. It was a symbol that had endured horrors. And my mother re-lived those horrors when she saw it. She never braided her hair.

It was getting dark when we clambered aboard, dragging luggage behind us. As usual, I was shocked by the luxury and wealth that seemed to drip from the ceiling. Mahogany tables, velvet chairs, crystal chandeliers. Everything screamed for attention.

There was another shock in store when we were greeted by Effie Trinket, an old friend of my parents. There was a squeal as Effie caught sight of us, and she dashed over to my parents, showering them with compliments, and kisses on cheeks. Of course where Effie appeared, Haymitch was sure to follow. They were friends, and Haymitch spent a lot of time with Effie’s son, a thin twelve year old named Sid. I wasn’t supposed to know this, but Haymitch’s brother had been named Sid. I never found out what happened to him, but it was one of those things which my parents spoke about in hushed tones when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Speaking of the devil, the blond-haired boy appeared from the front of the train, looking like he’d been living in a dirt home for a week. He was splattered with dirt and ash, no doubt he’d been playing by the mines before leaving.

Effie paused her chattering to give her son a look of disdain, though her face softened when he beamed up at her. They had a strange family dynamic. Effie lived in the Capitol, but sometimes sent Sid to Haymitch in Twelve for a vacation. Haymitch wasn’t Sid’s father, this I knew. But I also knew Effie had never disclosed who was. It was no surprised, then that Sid often called Haymitch ‘Pa,’ and was constantly in between the two. Effie and Haymitch visited each other frequently enough. At least they all seemed happy with their situation.

“Oh, Willow. How much you’ve grown!” Effie exclaimed, finally turning her attention to me. I braced myself to be fawned over, a smile sliding into place.

“I dare say you look just like your mother, but with those eyes.” She made a humming noise. “The eyes are all your father. I love your hair, simply lovely. You’ve become such a gorgeous woman.” She suddenly dabbed at her eyes, as if the sight of me growing up had done her in. “They grow so fast,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. She dabbed at her gold lined eyes as she pulled her son to her side.

“They do, don’t they,” my father smiled, reaching over to ruffle Rye’s brown hair. Rye swatted at his hand, but giggled nonetheless. In all honesty, I thought Rye looked more like my mother. His skin was darker than mine, his eyes that deep grey. Although his face was shaped more like my father. And then there was Anemone, with her pale skin, blonde hair and blue eyes. My mother always joked that she had ‘run out of ink’ with her. Personally I adored her blonde hair, and her cute chubby cheeks.

“Alright, let’s get this train moving, shall we?” Haymitch’s voice cut through Effie’s enthusiasm and my father’s banter. My mother had been silent the entire time. 

Chapter 3: Chapter 2- Level of Concern

Summary:

This is a shorter chapter, but needed to hint at what's coming!

Peeta

I made sure the kids were in the back of the train, in Rye’s room with Willow supervising, before I walked back to the dining car. Something was up, something concerning. Absolutely nothing the children should hear. I tried to keep a hold on my fear. If it got out of control, I wasn’t sure I would be able to get it back in its metaphorical cage. But as I walked down the narrow passage, I couldn’t help but wonder what we were heading into.

The last time had been a surprise dinner party, with all the high ranking officials and the new President Snow in honor of the Mockingjay, new symbol of an united Panem. I knew Katniss resented that title. She didn’t even have to say it. I could see in the way her jaw clenched at the very mention of it. They’d twisted her image, put the Mockingjay in a gilded cage.

I arrived in the car to utter silence. Katniss stared out the window blankly, Haymitch was milking a drink, hopefully non-alcoholic, and Effie was staring at the table. I sat down and cleared my throat, folding my hand on the tabletop.

“What’s the news from the Capitol?” I asked Effie, my voice low. She didn’t like being referred to as such, but she was like our spy, our woman on the inside. There was little to no news feed of other places in Panem, only the occasional report on life in the capitol, and new laws the president had put into place. I had a sneaking suspicion that that was about to change.

Effie took a small breath before directing her attention at me. Katniss seemed to become more alert beside me. She turned her head towards the table, and her hand drifted over to rest on my knee. I knew she needed comfort, we both did, so I took her hand in my own and gave a squeeze, intertwining our fingers while we waited.

“President Snow has been planning something. I’m not sure what, but I know it has been taking up most of her time, and the Cranes are involved. As well as the Prices, the Harringtons and other old blood Capitol families. This doesn’t sit well with me. It’s some sort of secret project,” Effie finished, her pink gloved hands interlocking on the table.

“And they’ve summoned us there for the big reveal, yippee,” grumbled Haymitch, swirling the orange liquid around in his glass before taking a swig. Effie batted at his hand lightly, muttering something about manners and orange juice. Katniss just stared at them blankly. I knew she was worried, and coping in her own way. Nothing had been the same since that night last year. She had become lost in her own head, rarely smiling. Sometimes she talked to me, and sometimes she didn’t. I was sure I knew less than half of what went on in her head, but I never worried that our relationship was deteriorating. I knew how she felt. And when she squeezed my hand, leaned in to give her a soft peck on the cheek. Just a little reassurance. We were both worried, but I preferred to hope for the best. I had to.

“Why insist on us bringing the kids?” Katniss finally spoke, her eyes flitting between the three of us. My stomach twisted. I had been wondering about it, but had been too afraid to voice the question.

Effie shook her head, then looked as if she wanted to say something.

“Why don’t you all get some rest? We’ll be in the Capitol bright and early tomorrow,” chittered Effie brightly. Though her expression was anything but. Not even her pink hair could make up for her downcast expression.

“What are you not saying?” Haymitch asked, his drink forgotten as he leaned forwards.

Effie laced her fingers on the table, her expression uncharacteristically blank. That had me worried more than anything else. What was going on here?

“The President’s hold on the districts is incredibly weak. She fears another rebellion. And I think… Well I hope it’s not true,” her words sped out, “but I think she’s devised a way to keep the major players close to her and under her thumb.”

Chapter 4: Chapter 3- The Capitol

Summary:

Guys idk how html text works (isn't that where you plug your laptop into your tv?) so if you see any formatting errors no you don't! :)

Willow

I was already ready to go when the train pulled into the station. It was my sixth time here, but I never got used to the crowd swarming the station. Capitol citizens vying to see my mother, my father, and of course, me and my siblings. I knew that we were some sort of entertainment to them.

My father placed a hand on Rye’s shoulder, giving a squeeze. “Smile and wave, keep your head up,” he coached. I didn’t need any coaching, I knew how to wear a mask. I did it at school, I did it when my parents slipped into an episode. No matter how much I was panicking, I knew my face would never betray it. So as I stepped out of the train car and into the bright sun, I made sure to put on an even brighter smile as I surveyed the crowd. I knew my mother wouldn’t be smiling, she never did, not until she had to perform. So it was up to me and my father to make up for it. Rye just looked nervous, giving a shy wave here and there. Either way the people ate it up, cheering and shouting our names, grinning and waving their hands.

We were ushered into an armored car by some peacekeepers. The windows were tinted dark, so there was no way for anyone to see inside, and the moment the door shut, the smile dropped from my father’s face. My mother curled into his side, Anemone seated between them. Rye looked like he was about to cry. I kept my face carefully neutral.

My parents rarely used the term ‘I love you.’ But you could always tell. It was in the way my father interlocked their fingers. It was in the way my mother leaned her head against his shoulder. And when I was younger and had nightmares, when I climbed into their bed in the night, it was evident in the way they curled around each other, as if not even the universe could keep them apart. And now in the car, the way they leaned on each other for support. When I was little, I couldn’t even imagine loving someone as much as my parents loved each other. And I still find it difficult, seeing myself with someone, trusting someone fully. Maybe someday.

We pulled up in front of a massive building, which was strange because normally we were driven directly to the president’s mansion. But my parents let out an audible gasp, and my mother shuddered. It was clear that they recognized this building.

“The training center,” my father muttered, gripping my mother’s hand tightly. My mother nodded wordlessly as my brain supplied information. The training center, where the tributes for the Hunger Games lived and trained before going into the arena to fight to the death. Of course I’d heard about it, but this was my first time seeing this monument, first time being here. But being here also raised the question of what we were doing here. There had to be a reason that they were having us stay here other than just to make my parents memories resurface. And the dread beginning to coil in my stomach did little to help my worry. Why were we here?

We were ushered from the car and into the building. From there we were led into a waiting room, or what looked like a waiting room. Soft chairs were scattered about, and a coffee table sat in the center of the room. There was only one door, but there was a television mounted on the wall. Haymitch and Sid arrived several minutes later, Effie had probably returned to her office in preparation for whatever we were here for.  The adults all looked shell shocked, their silence was a telltale sign of what this building meant to them. There was the click of a lock, and then quiet. No one spoke as we all drifted to chairs. The time ticked by, and minutes turned into an hour, then another. Finally, the lock clicked again, and in walked President Snow.

She surveyed our weary faces with her hawklike eyes. Then she fixed her cold gaze on me. I almost shivered, but I managed to remain calm, lifting my chin slightly. I felt a surge of relief as she directed her attention to my mother and cleared her throat.

“Lovely to see you all,” She said coldly. It was clear she was not in fact pleased to see us. And the feeling was mutual. “Mockingjay, there have been riots in Eleven, Seven and Five. The people aren’t happy. They are too engaged.” The dread that had been sitting in my stomach began to spread, taking over my limbs until they felt like lead. “Your grim expressions and fake smiles aren’t working. So it’s time to get the districts back in line,” she smirked, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. My mother grit her teeth, hands fisting in her lap.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get moving people,” President snow snapped her fingers, summoning the adults with her. I made to get up as well, expecting myself to be included in this meeting. But the president gave me a look of mild disgust and shook her head. “Leave the children here.” I sat back down as my father glanced my way. I knew what his expression meant. Watch the other kids, Willow. I gave him a nod but held in my sigh. I couldn’t help but feel that at seventeen I was old enough to be involved in the conversation. But then again, the less time spent with President Snow the better.

Haymitch bid Effie's son goodbye as they filtered from the room, my mother wrapped Anemone in a tight hug before handing her off to me, and my father ruffled Rye’s hair once more. Then they were gone, and the lock slid into place again.

“What do you think they’re going to do?” Asked Rye, gazing at me with his wide, grey eyes. I shrugged, setting Anemone on the floor. She toddled around, not speaking, but taking in her surroundings. Anemone had always been quiet, watching. She rarely spoke, but when she did it was full sentences, usually with words that were a bit advanced for a four year old.

“They’ll probably just make mom do another speech or parade her around the districts with dad,” I said, resting my chin on my hand.

Sid wiped at his eyes. “Why did they go? My mom and Pa never leave me all alone,” he whimpered, the fear evident in his voice. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but the kid was right. Haymitch was almost never called to the capitol, and never involved in meetings with the president. The fact that we had been driven to the training center, and now all of our parents were called away didn’t sit right with me.

“Don’t worry Sid, they’ll be back soon,” I said, offering him a small smile. I just hoped I wasn’t lying to him. There was something going on, something I didn’t like.

I settled Anemone onto my knee and let her examine the loose threads of my sleeves. She was a quiet child, always too in tune to the emotions of others. The best way to keep her calm was to be calm yourself, or at least pretend to be.

This proved difficult. There was nothing else in the room to focus on, no windows. It was probably some sort of administrative office, which had clearly been redone recently. The pungent scent of paint had been masked with some sort of orange air freshener, but it wasn’t strong enough to completely hide the fresh paint smell. The walls were bare save for a TV, and all of the chairs were hot pink. What a weird place this was.

Another hour passed before anything happened. I was about to start knocking on the door and demanding to use the bathroom just to get out of that room, but before I could start, the television flicked on. President Snow stood behind a podium, addressing the Capitol, and probably all of the districts. There was a satisfied smirk on her face, and I wished I could smack her. That look was probably at the expense of my parents, who she was hell bent on exploiting.

“Greetings Panem,” she began, her voice echoing from the television. She had said Panem, which meant the whole country was indeed seeing this.

“I come to you today with an announcement. One I think you’ll find very entertaining.” She braced her hands on the podium, her white suit wrinkling at her elbows. “After the Second Rebellion which my grandfather and my predecessor worked to quell, the Mockingjay and I have decided to continue a tradition.” My heart sank. My mother had agreed on something with the President? Was it a good something? Because she couldn’t possibly mean…

“With this year being the twentieth anniversary of the Second Rebellion, we want to commemorate all the lives lost with a very special Hunger Games.”

Then my mother was there, speaking. But her words didn’t register at all. What in Panem was she saying?

Chapter 5: Chapter 4- An Announcement

Summary:

Things are heating up in the Capitol.

Katniss

President Snow had led us down a flight of stairs and into a white room. It was large, a conference table resting in the center. There were people already sitting around it, I recognized Celeste’s sister, Agrippa, who had a wicked smirk on her face. There was Johanna Mason, Annie Odair, Beetee Latier, Enobaria, Porter, Palladium, many other previous victors who hadn’t died in the war. Many who had fought on the side of the Capitol. If being here at all wasn’t concerning enough, their presence caused immediate panic. There was a plot in the works. One that would surely be at our expense.

I gripped Peeta’s hand tightly as we took our seats, Haymitch beside me and Peeta next to Johanna. She gave me a little smile, that familiar smirk that screamed confidence. I wish I could’ve mustered the strength to smile back, but my worry was overwhelming me.

As everyone quieted down after brief words of greeting, President Snow strode to the front of the room, Agrippa trailing behind. She was dressed in a pantsuit of sorts, with a cape that hung to her waist and had slits for her arms. Perhaps she was trying to set the latest fashion trend in the Capitol.

“Welcome, Victors. Thank you all for coming.” As if we had a choice. Her smile was anything but sincere as she continued. “I’ve called you all here for something special, a treat. I think it will make many of you very, very happy.” Her smile was sickening, cold. Whatever she had planned, it wasn’t going to make us happy, no I was sure it would do the opposite.

“I will be addressing the entire nation in,” she checked her watch, “an hour and five minutes. Unfortunately I have been called away for an urgent matter. I will thank you for your patience upon my return."

Then she was gone. It was just us victors. For a while no one spoke. Porter broke the silence in the end, striking up a conversation with Palladium. Peeta and I only watched. Beetee refused to engage with Johanna despite her pestering. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.

It was an hour before President Snow re-entered, from a different door. She gripped a radio.

"I trust you've exchanged pleasantries?" No one spoke.

"Vocal group. So, about that special treat. First, I must put to you a vote. As Victors, I believe you are uniquely qualified to help me in this endeavor.” My heart shot into my throat, and I suddenly felt nauseous. Whatever she had in store, it had something to do with the Games and it being the twentieth anniversary of the Second Rebellion. I had no doubt.

She waved a hand, and two camera men came in, their shiny gear indicating new money, but the swell of their mouths was a telltale sign, they were avoxes. Recent ones. They probably didn't want to be here anymore than we did.

“Here are your choices: we hold two Hunger Games per year going forwards, one in the Summer and one in the Winter,” my fingernails bit into my palms, “or-“ She hung on the word, scanning our faces with predatory intent, “Make this Game a very special anniversary, and allow the public—that is, the Capitol Citizens—to vote those from the districts in as a fair and just punishment from this game onwards for the next twenty years. Just twenty years, and then the Victor’s of these games’ direct families will be exempt from the Games in the future.”

There was utter silence.

“You have four minutes. Send the Mockingjay with your decision or you will all be executed in a tragic accident.” With that, she turned heel and left the room, Agrippa again following her little sister. That left us, the victors, in an shocked silence. We glanced at each other, no one sure what to say. Of course Johanna was going to be the first to speak.

“Well fuck her too,” she growled, her arms crossing over her chest. No one spoke. One of the District One Victors who I did not know laughed. No one else moved. “I mean honestly, she calls us all here for what, some new Capitol entertainment? With all of us together we could overthrow her precarious government,” she continued, the characteristic sarcasm of her voice filling the room.

“Careful, Johanna, she may shoot you for that,” Beetee finally spoke, shaking his head.

“Oh please, they can’t kill me. They want me complicit in killing children, again,” Johanna countered, beginning to examine her nails as if they were anything but perfect.

“Either way, it’s still the Games,” whispered Peeta. “They’re changing the Games and they want to show that all of the victors support it.” I met my husband’s blue eyes now. I knew he was as numb as I was.

All hell broke loose in that conference room. Johanna was shouting at Beetee, Palladium and Enobaria were almost throwing punches, and all I could do was stand and watch as Haymitch and Peeta conversed in low tones.

Hand shaking, I swept a finger beneath my left eye, startled to find it coming away wet. Crying. I was crying.

“Katniss.” A voice from long ago whispered in my ear, “Katniss, you have to be strong.”

“Rue?” I turned to face the mousy girl. The room was quiet around me, time frozen. She was right there, vibrant and alive, flowers in her hair. Dark lips curled into that loving smile. “Be strong, Katniss.” A four-note tune echoed in my ears as the sounds of agony overwhelmed me again.

The television cut to President Snow about to give a speech, standing on her raised platform. “Greetings Panem. In just a moment, I will have a very special guest up here with me.” Cheers droned from the television.

The room erupted into further chaos. Johanna shouted at the television, at the cameras. Enobaria cackled. I just sat there. Everything we had fought so hard for she was taking it away. They would put our children in an arena again. Willow and Rye were old enough to be reaped, or voted in. They could be put in that arena.

Peeta turned to me, his mouth open in shock, tears streaming down his face. But I couldn’t cede to emotion yet. We had to make a choice. Either we sacrifice our children, or we sacrificed twice as many for the next twenty years. We had to decide or everyone died.

✦

A moment later, I walked through the doors to join Celeste in front of the cameras. She stepped aside, gesturing for me to step up to the podium. My hands shook as I lifted the notecard up to read from it.

“The Victors have decided unanimously, that on this, the Twentieth Anniversary of the Second Rebellion, we will invite the citizens of the Capitol to engage with the Games on a level never before seen. As such,” my voice threatened to shake, but I couldn’t let it. “In apology for the death we in the Districts caused, we intend to allow you to vote for who you want to see compete for the next twenty years.” I nodded to the camera before stepping away. I had just betrayed everything I stood for. In less than five minutes, my world had collapsed.

Agrippa took the stand, notecards clutched in her slim fingers.  “Panem, I would like to announce that I will be overseeing the 96th Hunger Games. And as the Mockingjay said, we’re going to be doing incredible things. Instead of random reapings or volunteers, you, the people of Panem get to vote on who goes into the arena. Any district citizen between the ages of twelve and eighteen can be nominated. And,” The audience hung on every word, their excitement making my heart sink further. “All Victors from these games forward may extend their immunity to their families. But it is time for our current victors to step back and allow others to take their place.” There was a deafening roar. My children were no longer safe.

I opened my mouth to scream, to take it back, to do something-anything. Peeta and I couldn’t protect our children from the Games, she had made sure of that. They were going to put my children in the Arena.

I had barely made a noise when a hand wrapped around my mouth, dragging me backwards, into the conference room. I fought, hard. But it wasn’t enough, the Peacekeepers were everywhere, two at my legs to keep me from kicking and one dragging me by the arms.

They were involving the Capitol even more than before. They would get to vote for who they wanted to see, who they wanted to die. “Make sure to send in your votes by July fourth! We’re counting on you to make the games interesting,” she said cheerily, giving a wink to the audience. The crowd erupted into cheers, this new rule would be very popular with them, so popular it was sickening. I fought off wave after wave of nausea as the peacekeepers dragged fighting victors out of the room.

Somehow Peeta pried me away from them, and I clung to him and he to me. I was trying to convince myself that it was all just a nightmare. I would wake up. But when the peacekeepers dragged Peeta and I from the room, I knew it was real. 

Chapter 6: Chapter 5- The Cost of Fame

Summary:

Another short one as we dip into Rye's POV!

Rye

“And make sure to send in your votes by July fourth!” My head was spinning. They were going to put us into the Games. Mom and Dad told us that we would always be protected. We had listened to their stories, but I never thought I’d actually have to see them.

Sid began crying hard. I took in Willow’s shocked expression and knew this one was up to me. I slipped an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “It’s okay, Sid.” I didn’t know what else to say. ‘It’s okay’ wasn’t enough but there wasn’t much else I could offer. Luckily Sid just seemed to want comfort, and wrapped me in a tight hug. I stifled a sigh, but hugged him back, watching the television again. He would be okay, he was a Capitol citizen, but he didn’t understand what was going on.

The screen cut to Caesar Flickerman, looking as young as ever. Absently I wondered how much of his original face there was left, what he looked like under the cosmetics. “Well there you have it folks, the games are back this year with an exciting twist! Isn’t it great?” He flashed the camera a winning smile before turning to his papers. “Well why don’t we take a look at the list of lucky kiddos you can vote for. We had some existing nominations from those involved with this secret project, but you can all send in your nominations until June first!” He shuffled his papers, flashing the camera a winning smile.

“Starting with lovely District One,” Caesar went on to give a quick bio of the kid, and their photo flashed on screen. It was clear that these were photos taken for school. They were nominating schoolchildren—had already nominated them. I watched blankly until he got to District Twelve. The names of my friends flashed across the screen, a few of my classmates. There was Poppy Rouge, there was Sally, and my cousin Dill.

“Ah, and a crowd favorite already no doubt, Willow Mellark,” Caesar smiled. I cast a glance towards my sister. Her expression was hard, unreadable. “We all know Willow, daughter of the star crossed lovers from District Twelve,” he let out a swooning sigh. “Word on the street is that she’s just as good with a bow as her mother. She’s seventeen this year and doesn’t she look just like her mother? Certainly as pretty.” The crowd erupted into cheers. My sister’s face was displayed on the screen. Her dark hair was loose and curling softly at the ends. Her blue eyes seemed to stare off into the distance, but her expression was carefree. It didn’t match the look she had now.

“And how could we forget, Willow’s little brother Rye Mellark!” I frowned as my face appeared on the screen, my heart pounding in my ears. It was a recent photo, taken at the same time as my sister’s. My chin was lifted, dark hair groomed and grey eyes looking away. “He’s fifteen now, and apparently is just as strong as his father. Though I’m sure he could give any of us a run for our money with a bow!” Caesar chuckled as the audience cheered once more. I didn’t know where he’d gotten his information, but I wasn’t the best archer. I could hit a target, but with nowhere near the precision of my mother and sister. I was still better than my father at least. But I certainly wasn’t as strong as him, and besides, I preferred baking to archery. Or any sort of exercise.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t take after the other Victor from Tweleve,” Caesar joked, displaying a clip of Haymitch, clearly drunk, falling off the stage at my parents’ reaping. Then he moved on to the mayor’s son, Aster. “I’m told he’s smart as a whip and quick on his feet.” Caesar wrapped it up by reminding everyone to vote. Then the screen went dark. 

Chapter 7: Chapter 6- The Reaping

Summary:

Reaping Day dawns, and the dice are cast.

"There's a heartbeat under my floorboards
Charging me guilty and I don't know what for
There's a black bird over my door
Singing Nevermore
Nevermore
Nevermore
Nevermore."
-Fleurie

Willow

It was over in hours, and we were shipped back to District 12. On the ride back, no one even tried for conversation. We were all too stunned, too shocked. But of course something different was troubling me.

A crowd favorite already no doubt. If I was a crowd favorite, and people were voting on who went into the arena, then how did that bode for me? I held back a wave of nausea.

But there was an even darker thought, one of self sacrifice. If I went into that arena and won, against all odds, my siblings were safe from the Games forever.

The days after the announcement were fraught. My mother was always on the verge of a breakdown, my father sat there blankly half of the time. It was only the morning of the reaping that things seemed normal. I knew it was an effort to preserve our way of life by my parents. I knew they just wanted us to feel safe. I knew for sure that it was false when my mother invited me hunting with her.

We trekked through the familiar woods, bows and arrows across our backs. The familiar scent of the woods wrapped itself around me, and I refused to think that this may be the last time I would see it.

I had loved these woods since I could walk. Many days had been spent here with my mother. We had sat in trees in silence. She had shown me how to walk silently, how to forage for food, how to swim. She had taught me to shoot in these woods. It was our little getaway, something that the two of us shared. It was a place where no words were needed, because we could just read each other’s expressions. When there was game, my mother pointed with two fingers. When we needed to be extra silent, she held a finger to her lips, and when we needed to stop, she would hold up her hand, fist closed. It was always unspoken with my mother, but this was one of the ways she showed that she cared, that she loved me.

Soft light filtered through the treetops as we stalked through the woods. My mother normally took the lead, and I followed her several paces away. But today, she nodded for me to go first. I obediently fell into step, feeling the ground beneath my leather clad feet. Every so often I called a halt to listen, enjoying my mother’s unquestioning faith in my instincts. She trusted me. And I had to trust her. If she voted for this new era of the games, surely there was a reason. Whatever that reason was, she hadn’t revealed it to me. We hadn’t spoken about the events of that day.

We didn’t have much time before the reaping, but I was glad to be spending it here. Especially when I caught sight of a rabbit, focused on eating grass. I signaled to my mother and she gave me a nod. I shifted my weight slowly, nocking an arrow. I anchored the bowstring at my cheek, focusing on my aim. I let out a small breath, and the arrow flew. It sung through the air, hitting the rabbit directly in the eye. It was dead instantly. A nice, clean kill, and a perfect shot. I let out another breath  before nodding to my mother and going to retrieve my kill. I held it up for her to see, and she nodded approvingly, flashing me perhaps the first smile she’d had since the announcement.

My mother surprised me further by speaking. “Willow, whatever happens today. I love you. Remember, train like a career.” Almost urgently she dropped her bow, coming to grip my shoulders. “You make allies, you stay alive.” She sounded desperate, and there was nothing I could do but nod as she drew me in for a hug. But obviously she had come to the same conclusion as I had about the voting. The chances of my name being called were high, but so were my brother’s. If we were both reaped… I shuddered at the thought. But Rye wasn’t as popular. He wasn’t the firstborn of the Mockingjay.

“But you’re coming with me, right? To the Capitol?” My stomach dropped. Surely she would, right?

“Of course. Of course I will.” Her arms tightened around me, and I nestled my head into the crook of her neck.

We only broke apart when the bells began to toll, calling all of District Twelve to the reaping ceremony. I took a final look at the forest as we headed home, and I vowed to myself that this would not be the last time.

Our house sat on the edge of Victor’s Village. My parents hadn’t moved to any of the bigger houses when we were born. I sometimes wondered why, but I just assumed they slowly came to like the smaller place. There was a garden with roses, primroses, buttercups, and various other herbs. We had vines which grew on the house, and a tree which gave shade. Out of all of District Twelve, it was one of the nicest places to live.

I dropped the rabbit on the counter and leaned my bow next to the door. As was tradition, my mother helped me pick out a nice dress. It was a soft blue, the same color as my eyes. It hugged my chest and hips, a gentle reminder that I wasn’t a child anymore. My mother gave me a look of approval before we headed downstairs. My father and brother were already waiting.

When we stepped out the doors, there were already peacekeepers waiting for us. Rye and I were separated from our parents immediately, leaving Rye reeling and my parents looking shocked. I tried to give my parents the three-fingered salute as I walked away, but as soon as my hand went in the air, the peacekeeper at my side snatched my wrist and twisted it painfully behind my back. I grit my teeth from anger and pain, but I was rewarded for my troubles when I heard those familiar four notes echoing in the air from behind me.

The walk to the square was hot and the Peacekeeper kept my hand twisted behind my back, his fingers so tight I knew there would be a bruise. Otherwise it was uneventful. But there was the looming reaping, and the very large possibility that my name, and my brother’s were about to be called. As we passed under an archway and walked up to join the other children, I struggled to stay composed. I was separated from Rye, and we exchanged a look before we parted. I placed my free hand over my heart, and he echoed the motion. I love you. It was the only goodbye we would get unless he was reaped. People were angry, they weren't going to let us stick around for long.

I was alone, standing among the masses of other girls from my district. But of course, I stood out. They gave me a clear berth, indicating that I was other. My proximity was tainted with danger. I knew they blamed my mother for all of this, and now the blame must fall to me. The anger in the district was rampant, a tangible beast. At the Capitol, at the Mockingjay, at the failed rebellion, at each other, even. Either way, I held my chin up high and proud, refusing to meet any stares, though I knew there were many.

There was silence as the mayor, looking weary, went to take a seat on the stage. He had to be seventy by this point, I thought. His second wife trailed behind him, and it looked like they’d been crying. But then I remembered that they had a fourteen year old son, who had been on television because his mother hailed from the Capitol. She’d moved to Twelve in the brief time when the districts were free. This meant he was likely to be reaped as well. And though I wasn’t proud of it, I was glad that at least there was a chance my brother’s name wouldn’t be called.

Finally, a capitol woman stepped onto stage. I wasn’t sure why, but I had been expecting Effie. This woman was someone new. She had dark skin and silver seemed to be her most prominent color. Her curls were styled in a gigantic updo before dangling beside her head, sprayed with silver tint. Her lips were painted silver, and her false lashes sported silver flakes at the end. I thought she looked rather ridiculous, but that was Capitol fashion. She was holding a sleek tablet, and as she walked up to the microphone she tapped on it a couple times.

“District Twelve, how lovely to be here, once again.” She had to be joking. “Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds, or votes,” she chucked, “be ever in your favor.” With a wink at the crowd, she tapped on her tablet once more. “Now, shall we call ladies first?” When she was met with silence, she nodded once, her smile faltering. “The lucky lady going to the Capitol this year, will be…” I braced myself. I was still holding onto hope that my name wouldn’t be the one called, that the Capitol had decided someone else would be better.

My palms were sweatier than my brow as the entire crowd waited in anticipation. I could hear my own heart beating in my ears. Time seemed to slow as the woman scanned the crowd, and her eyes settled on me. “Willow Mellark.”

I wanted to run. I wanted to shove past the crowd, past the peacekeepers and get away. To go back into the calming woods as I had this morning. But as the crowd parted around me, I knew that wasn’t an option. I had been reaped, and my life belonged to the Capitol. But that didn’t mean I had to play by all of their rules. I was still Willow Mellark.

Defiantly, I held my chin up high, putting one foot in front of the other to get to the stage. I went up the steps to stand beside the woman, who at least had the decency to give me a handshake. Then she tapped on her tablet once more.

“And the male tribute this year…” I silently begged anyone listening that it wouldn’t be my brother. I thought hard, crossing my fingers behind my back. My parents couldn’t lose Rye as well as me. Me they could heal from. They’d never said as much, but I knew I had been brought into the world as a tool to quell rebellion. Rye had been a decision of their own. Losing him would destroy them.

“Aster Undersee. It was a very close race,” she smiled, searching for the boy. I felt a wave of relief from not hearing my brother’s name. My family would be alright. My brother would be alright. For now at least. But I did feel guilty for feeling this way. We were both being sent to our deaths, and yet at least it wasn’t my brother. And so it was with a hidden smile which I shook my district mate’s hand.

He was small for his fourteen years, just barely taller than me, with dirty looking red hair and hooded eyes. He looked like a younger version of the mayor really, but I suppose that made perfect sense. He looked sad, and also rather sickly. His hand was damp and I resisted the urge to wipe my own hands on my dress when we broke apart.

There was a brief moment while we were being presented to our district when I got the chance to scan the crowd, looking for my family. I found my brother, looking at me with tears streaming down his face. He knew as well as I did that this was a death sentence. But I would do what my mother said. I would play it smart, make allies and try my hardest to live. But how was I supposed to kill other kids?

I only found my parents and Anemone when my mother held her three fingers up to the sky. My father followed, both of their faces already streaked with tears. I raised my hand to mirror them, along with the rest of District Twelve. A final goodbye. But of course the peacekeepers interpreted it as something else, and they began pushing the crowds back, hitting people. I was grabbed from behind and forced inside, but I caught one final look before the door slammed shut. People pushed against peacekeepers and shouted. It was a full on riot, sparked by me, by my mother. For perhaps the first time in my life I understood what power she held. What power I held by consequence. It was invigorating.

We weren’t given time to say goodbye to our families. But that was alright, because mine were mentors. I had gotten lucky. Aster had not. He cried as we were escorted to the train. I did nothing to comfort him, nothing would have helped. We both knew what all of this meant. Neither of us had been raised in this world, we had been thrust into it, and the odds were not in our favor.

The second I stepped into the train, my father’s arms were around me, wrapping me into a tight hug. My mother was there a second later, and he looped an arm around her shoulders, connecting us. I shut my eyes and savored the feeling of being protected, of being loved, because we all knew it wasn’t going to last long. I could shoot, I knew what I could and couldn’t eat in the woods, but could I kill people? Other kids?

We broke apart when the train lurched into motion. My mother remained with a hand on my shoulder, but my father broke off from us to greet Aster. They spoke softly for a moment, before Aster hugged my father. My father reached out and hugged the boy back, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Of course, poor Aster, who had been in no way prepared for this. Who hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to his parents. I felt sympathy for him, but again, had no idea what to say.

My father had managed to calm Aster down enough to share a late lunch, and we ate together in relative silence. I focused on keeping the lamb stew down. I was almost asleep at the table, peacefully coming to terms with the inevitable, that was until our escort walked in.

“My word, that certainly was something. My apologies for not arriving sooner, I had to deal with the captain, he was… well simply too slow to start the train,” she muttered. “Anyways, my name is Sappho, pleasure to be here with you all.” She didn’t look all that pleased. Instead she was looking at my elbow on the table with a sour expression. Self consciously, I removed it and tucked my hands into my lap. She nodded curtly before taking a seat.

“I can see we have work to do,” she glanced between me and Aster. “But not too much. Willow, darling, your are even more stunning in person.” My mother just scowled straight ahead as my father stared at the table grimly. Sappho cleared her throat, taken aback by the hostility.

“Come now, let’s watch the rest of the reapings.” She flicked her wrist, and it was only then I noticed a tiny device clutched in her hand. Before I could ask what it did, a television screen unfolded from the wall across from the table. It turned on with the seal of the Capitol emblazoned across the screen. I had to tamp down on a scowl then. The anthem of Panem blared through the train car, I ignored my parent’s grim expressions and shudders as I focused my full attention on the screen.

First up was District One. I had been told that in the past they had almost always volunteered, just like Two and often Four. The two kids who had been selected were called Velour and Pearl. Velour looked like he would be a problem for me, tall, muscled, with a mean glint in his eyes. He had his light hair slicked back, his outfit fashionable. Pearl looked less deadly, but there was something about the way she was smiling when she heard her name. She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and took the stage next to Velour. Together they looked downright intimidating.

The two kids from District Two also looked dangerous, they both looked like wrestlers, though the girl had an air of innocence around her. Three showed a small boy and an even smaller girl getting reaped. I knew their names, as briefly their parents had worked with mine. I thought the boy had been called Gears, and I was correct. The female tribute, was revealed to be Ash Coils, apparently another child of Capitol traitors, banished to the districts. She began crying the moment her name got called. Probably not a threat. Then I cursed myself for thinking that way, she was twelve years old, she shouldn’t even be in this position.

Then there was District Four, and perhaps it was something in the way that my parents drew in a breath at the same time, perhaps it was the way the room got very still, but I found myself paying closer attention.

The escort on the screen walked out onto the stage. It was an area open to the sea, and gulls circled around, just within the frame. I could almost smell the breeze that teased through the gathered peoples’ hair. I had always longed to see the ocean, but travel between the districts was heavily regulated when it wasn’t forbidden entirely. A sudden pang hit me as I realized all of the things I was never going to get to do. But there was a name that broke through my downcast thoughts.

“Finn Odair.” I looked on in shock as a boy took the stage, his eyes lowered. His sandy colored hair curled softly around his ears, brushing against his brows and swaying in the gentle wind. When he looked up at the camera, with murder in his gaze, I swear I thought he was looking straight at me. A woman wailed from the crowd, and the camera cut as a woman with auburn hair dashed up to the stage, trying to reach him, her son.

“Oh, Annie,” my mother rasped, her grey eyes sparkling with unshed tears. It took me a moment, but I remembered why Odair sounded familiar, why the boy with the light brown hair and sun kissed skin looked familiar. Finn Odair, Finnick and Annie’s son. Finnick hadn’t made it out of that arena, but his son would be eighteen this year, nearly clear of the reapings. But now… I swallowed hard. Now we would have to fight to the death, and he would kill me, or I would kill him.

The rest of the reaping seemed to pass in a blur. There weren’t many who stood out to me in that moment. A girl from Seven, Holly, caught my attention for her dyed green hair. A boy from Ten who looked three times my size made me fear my chances further, and a short and willowy girl from Eleven who looked like she was half asleep.

Then I was watching myself take the stage, my head high and my eyes defiant. I looked more determined in that moment than I thought I had ever looked before. I took the stage in what seemed like a gracious manner, and when Aster’s name was called, I reacted with respect. Or perhaps that was just my own wishful thinking. Either way, my mother had been right about the blue dress. 

Chapter 8: Chapter 7- The Capitol’s Encore

“Our hearts we have sold
For diamonds and gold
Buy hey baby
Take a look
We have it all.”
-Pim Stones

Willow

“Remember, there are potential sponsors out there, smiles on!” Sappho coached, miming pulling the corners of her mouth up with her fingers. We had been on the train for two days. Aster hadn’t said a word to anyone since the very first day, and I had mostly spent the time in my room, watching the reaping again to get an idea of the competition. My parents had barely stopped plotting to sleep. They had spent almost the entirety of the two days with their heads bent together, whispering. Occasionally they had turned to watch me, ask me how I was, give me advice, but other than that they were mostly unresponsive.

The train pulled into the Capitol smoothly. I knew immediately that we had arrived due to the screams and cheers I could hear coming from the citizens who crowded the station. Instead of hiding in my room like I wanted to, I took measured steps towards the window, raising my hand almost mechanically. Then I put on my best smile and began to perform. Think like a career, my mother had said. Careers were honored to be chosen. And so, I had to be absolutely honored, proud and enthusiastic. I waved back at them, taking in their outrageous fashion, their altered faces, strange clothing, and I felt a wave of homesickness. How many riches these people had, and yet Twelve would always be classier.

It wasn’t long until I was separated from everyone, led into the very same building in which I had found out the Games were going to start again. Except this time I was led down into the basement, down a long hallway and into a small room. There I was instructed to undress and lay down on a table to be cleaned. I was plucked and prodded, the hairs on my legs were removed, my eyebrows were groomed, and my hair was trimmed. The three workers sprayed me down twice with a hose, then rubbed my skin full of different smelling oils. After they all agreed I was done, they left me with a robe and cleared the room.

It was cold, and despite the fluffy robe I shivered. The walls were white, the lights fluorescent, and the floor an icy tile. There was absolutely nothing that stood out. But I supposed that was the point. Everything was supposed to feel clinical, to make me more pliable, probably. Sitting back against the wall was the metal table on which I sat. It felt like a butcher’s table, stainless steel with a divot along the side. I wondered if that was what it had been designed for—surgery or the butchery that the citizens here preferred.

I clutched my knees to my chest, my dark hair falling in waves around me. It was longer than I had thought, but then again it had been straightened from its normal waves. Now it hung to my mid back. I probably should have requested that they cut it further, long hair would be a hindrance in the arena. But did it really matter? I wasn’t expecting to live very long. I was small, quick perhaps, but I had never trained for combat. Survival was my only edge, and the gamemakers knew it. I knew how to shoot, how to hunt, but besides that I was pretty useless. If I couldn’t get my hands on a bow, I would be dead by the second day. Not for the first time, I wished I was back home.

I was left for perhaps half an hour. I was beginning to wonder if I’d been forgotten about, when there was a knock on the door, pulling me from my self pity. A tall woman walked in, a clipboard clutched in her arm. With a start I noticed she was missing her hand. I wondered for a moment, unable to stop looking at where her dark skin ended in a little nub.

“Ah, you were quick to notice,” she said, her voice like honey. My eyes flicked up to her face. Her heart shaped face was framed by her dark hair, styled in tiny golden coils which resembled a lion’s mane. I envied her curls, they were gorgeous.

“S-sorry I didn’t mean to-” She cut me off with a hand.

“Don’t fret. I understand, it’s something different, you’re allowed to look. I lost it in the war,” she explained. I nodded once, trying to determine which side she’d been on. If she was here as my designer, probably not the right side.

The right side. I scoffed mentally, the losing side.

“My name’s Cannelle,” she said, setting the clipboard down beside me. I edged off the table, unsure what to do. Luckily she seemed to be focused on the task at hand. “I think I’ve designed the perfect outfit, strip and spin.” I obediently did so, feeling like some sort of show pony. It was dehumanizing, but I spun in a slow circle, the robe pooled at my feet. She nodded once then turned to the door. I thought she was going to leave, but instead she pulled a clothing rack through. Plucking an item from the rack, Cannelle turned her back to me.

“Put this on,” she tossed the garment at me. I realized quickly that it was an underdress, a thin white garment that covered me only to my upper thighs and seemed to suck my body into it. I did as instructed, silently thanking her for keeping her back to me. I didn’t have much privacy left, so I savored it when I could.

“Good, now close your eyes, and don’t open them until I tell you.” I frowned. What was she doing? I felt somewhat uncomfortable, skeptical. I didn’t like to be kept in the dark. I wanted to know her plan.

She must have seen my face, because she just raised an eyebrow. “Trust me,” she said flippantly before turning her back again. I guess I didn’t really have a choice anyways. Instead of arguing pointlessly, I did as I was told. After a moment, I felt something slide over my head, settling on my body. I assumed it was a dress of some sort. The fabric was cool, silky almost. I wanted to see it. Would it be something novel and grand? Would it help me get sponsors?

Briefly I wondered if they’d done something similar to my mother’s costume. If there was one thing I didn’t want, it was to be an exact replica of her. I wanted to be my own person. I wasn’t the girl on fire, she was. But what came after the fire burned out?

“Alright, it’s time for hair and makeup, open your eyes.” I opened them, then studied the fabric. It was so black, it almost had a smoky quality to it. Above all, it was light, very light. Upon closer inspection, I realized there were tiny sparkles, or tiny stones sewn into some spots.

“We don’t have all day,” Cannelle said, patting the seat of a chair. I didn’t apologize, I just went to sit down. I didn’t care if I was late to my own death. What did it matter? The end result was the same. Of course I still had to try, for my parents. I had to try and come back alive. I would have to fight, and to kill. When the moment came, I couldn’t hesitate.

Cannelle was done in less than ten minutes. I wasn’t sure if she was just skilled or lazy, that is until she brought in a mirror. She had lined my eyes in black powder, smokily flowing from the corners of my eyes. There were little diamonds at the inner corner of each eye, but the rest of my face was left mostly alone. The dress clung to my chest, black fabric interspersed with tiny jewels, or diamonds. It hugged my curves, flaring out at the waist. I looked… ethereal. My hair had been left mostly alone, falling in soft waves down my back. It was beautiful. Perfect. I was sure to gain at least some sponsors this way, I hoped. But would this draw unwanted attention as well? The neckline dropped a bit too low for my comfort, and there was a slit down the side which I had just noticed. It revealed much of my leg when I walked, shifting to reveal my thigh. Sure it was beautiful, but what would the Capitol think?

Shortly after she finished, I was rushed from the basement to a building off the main city circle. There I stood, next to my chariot, looking and feeling lost. But of course I wasn’t let alone for long. It was more like he snuck up on me, I turned around and it was as if he had simply appeared from thin air. One moment I was staring at the shining buildings in the distance, and the next there was a set of sea green eyes looking down at me.

“Um, excuse me,” I said, moving to step around him. He only held out an arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“Would you like a sugar cube?” I stilled. He was offering me… a sugar cube? Slowly I moved back slightly, so I could get a better look at him. Of course I already knew who it was. The scent of the sea was so strong I almost felt like I was standing on the beach I’d not yet been to.

Finn was certainly a looker. I had seen photos of his father, and the resemblance was uncanny. His jawline could cut glass, his nose was straight and his lips were soft and curved upwards. His light brown hair curled delicately around his head, and there I saw the resemblance to his mother. I was loathe to admit it, but I noticed he’d gotten a haircut since the reapings, and the hair on the top of his head was longer than that of the back.

His stylist had dressed him in a flowing blue toga. It sparkled like the sea, the deep blues only serving to set off his eyes even more. One side of the toga sloped low enough to reveal his perfectly tanned chest, and the smattering of freckles which were barely discernible from his golden skin.

I shrugged, trying to seem like I hadn’t been noticing the way his eyelashes seemed to catch the light and hold it captive. “For the horses, sure.”

His smile wavered. Not the response he had been expecting then. Good. We weren’t friends, we never would be, and it would be better not to fraternize with someone I would face in the arena. God knows Finn was a lot stronger than me.

“My father liked sugar cubes.” I thought I caught his lips twitch downwards, but I was probably wrong. Bringing up his father though, why would he do that? Was he trying to trick me? Get me to underestimate him? More likely he was testing the waters, trying to get sympathy and perhaps see if he could get me to expose my weaknesses.

When I said nothing, he only smirked again. “They call your mother the girl on fire, but I think you’re more like some sort of… Ice Princess.” Before I could fire an insult back at him, he popped a sugar cube in his mouth and was gone. And it was just me, standing alone by my chariot, stunned silent and watching his retreating form.

It wasn’t long before Aster arrived, dressed in a similar fashion as me. His shirt was skin tight, dipping at the neckline and revealing his collarbones and the tops of his shoulders. His pants were loose, rather like sweatpants, but they did nothing to hide the fact that Aster was downright scrawny. Though, just like I did, he sparkled with tiny diamonds sewn into his clothes. He looked significantly more nervous than I did. His dark red hair had been streaked with black and slicked back.

We didn’t speak as we loaded into the chariot. No one did. My father was focused solely on me, while my mother was scanning the room. At one point, they conversed very briefly before my mother nodded, and my father left. Confused, I tried to watch where he went, but I quickly lost sight of him in the crowd.

“You’ve done a good job,” my mother said to Cannelle. I recognized what my mother was doing, she was trying. It was so rare for her to try and initiate conversations, I could barely clamp down on my jaw to keep it from hanging open in shock.

“It wasn’t just me, they were his designs.” Confused at who he was, I looked to my mother. But there was just gratitude and understanding, which didn’t help me at all.

“He- he knew?” My mother’s voice sounded shaky, like this was some old wound that had just reopened.

“He always did, and he was always prepared.” Cannelle looked sad as she spoke the words. He… could it be they were discussing my mother’s stylist? The one who had been killed by the tyrant Snow, or the late tyrant Snow. I reassessed Cannelle. Maybe I had underestimated her, judged her too quickly. After all, I had no idea what she had gone through during the rebellion.

Before I could ask any questions, there was a rush of noise as the chariot for District One began its march down the city circle. The cheers were deafening, and I couldn’t even hear the announcer as District Two made an entrance. Before long, it was our carriage lurching forward, and I only managed to give my mother one last look over my shoulder before we were out in the open.

I tried to put on a good show, smiling broadly and proudly, hiding my glaring eyes behind a false face. I didn’t wave, they didn’t deserve that. But I did make a show of selecting one of the flowers that had landed on the floor of the chariot. I picked one that stood out to me, a white rose. I knew it to be a symbol of the Snow dynasty, so without a moment’s thought, I snapped the head off and gripped it hard. Not as a sign of support. It was more of an ‘I hate you and want to cut off your head.’ I hoped President Snow got my message, because I looked right into the camera as I ripped the stem off. I would get my revenge for this, in the next life at least.

The white rose taunted me. I began plucking petals from it, leaving them in my wake to be trampled by Thirteen’s chariot. When I got to the last petal, I stared straight ahead, where I knew President Snow was watching, and tucked it into my mouth, savagely. It occurred to me that the rose may be toxic, and then I half hoped it was. She couldn’t get the satisfaction of watching me die for entertainment. But it tasted like nothing, and so I chewed it viciously, keeping my mouth wide open. Let them see my teeth beneath the makeup and finery. I wanted to remind them all that, like a caged animal, I could bite.

Aster wasn’t holding up well. He was reduced to shaking under the gaze of so many people. But there wasn’t much I could do for him. Any sign of unity between us would ensure that he became a target, as I clearly already was. Finn’s visit had been a clear indicator of that. But I couldn’t do nothing, so instead I pretended to trip a little and use him for stability. As I feigned gaining my balance once more, I swallowed the petal and whispered in his ear. “Smile, they don’t deserve your fear.”

He looked at me in surprise, which was perfect. As far as the cameras knew he was shocked by my sudden fall. But almost imperceptibly, he nodded. We were about halfway there now, and Aster finally smiled, giving a tentative wave to the crowd. The people cheering now seemed to fuel him, and he gained more confidence, tossing smiles and waves to the audience. I tried not to think of him as someone to help, but it was difficult when he kept doing things to remind me that he was a child too. One only slightly younger than my brother.

The parade was over shortly. Less than ten minutes later I was headed for our rooms. Standing in the elevator, I wanted to fall over right there. Our apartment was almost on the top floor. But, as District Thirteen was also competing, there had been another floor added. It was strange now, because these games would be increasingly different from my mother’s. There would be twenty-six tributes instead of twenty-four. The tributes were voted in. It was as if they were truly making it more of an interactive show. I had overheard my parents discussing some rumors that there were to be other rule changes. But whatever they were, they had not yet been announced. I just hoped, selfishly, that whatever these changes were, they would work in my favor.

“Willow, why did you eat that?” My mother asked, her hands shaking. “What if it was poisoned? What if she targets you?” Her quivering form was quickly enveloped by my fathers arms. Her eyes seemed to glaze over.

"I'm already a target," I muttered, crossing my arms and turning away. I was too tired for this. My mother looked like she was going to argue before my father stepped in.

“Katniss,” my father tucked her into his side before placing a hand on my shoulder. “You did a good job.” I nodded once. I was too exhausted to do much more of anything. I knew she probably wanted to get right to discussing strategy, but I just wanted to get out of my costume and collapse.

“Eat something else before you go to sleep,” she said softly, her eyes seeming to read my face like it was a book. She cupped my cheek in her hand, and leaned in to kiss me on the forehead. Despite being in the middle of a glass elevator, I leaned into the touch, savoring the comfort that came with it. Was this one of the last times she would touch me? Were these my final days? I shook my head. Now was not the time to think like that.

The elevator dinged, and we all flooded out. My father wrapped his arms around my mother, and I left them to have their moment. Aster was already ahead of me. Our escort, Sappho, who had been silent since joining us after the parade, hurriedly called after him.

“There’s food on the table make sure to eat!” Her voice rose in pitch the further away Aster got. As he slammed the door behind him, she sighed. I felt a little sympathy for this woman who was clearly trying to keep us from starving or becoming enemies of the public. But Aster was a fourteen year old boy being sent to his death. I wouldn’t blame him if he was going to be moody.

When I finally reached my assigned room, thankfully avoiding my parents, my escort and my stylist, I leaned my head against the door. I wanted to just collapse into the bed, but I had to get this dress off. And the makeup. So I ran a shower, leaving the dress draped over a chair in the corner. The room itself was posh, a fuzzy beige carpet covered the tile floor. Velvet curtains served to cover the floor to ceiling windows. A screen which doubled as a window came with a remote which could change the scenery of all the windows to anything I wanted.

By far my favorite thing was the shower. There were so many different scents and soaps. For the first several minutes I just sampled them, deciding which smell I liked best. Quite by accident, I stumbled upon one which smelled of the ocean. Immediately my thoughts went to Finn, and his sea green eyes. He smelled just like this. I wanted to wrinkle my nose and change the scent, but I couldn’t. There was something comforting about the saltiness and the freshness. It was almost like I could feel a soft breeze on my face, the gulls chirping in the sky.

I had never been to a beach, but it had been my dream since I was a kid. I wanted to run through the sand, find crabs and seashells. I wanted to hear the noise the waves made when they crashed along the shore. I wanted to taste the sweetness of the air on my tongue. Ever since my parents had gone to visit Four and returned with a shell for me, it had haunted my dreams. I could scarcely imagine that much water. It had to be endless.

My eyes prickled with tears when I realized that these were things that I’d probably never get to experience. But I couldn’t afford to be thinking that way, so I changed the scent to something more familiar, violets, and quickly finished up my shower. I used the instant dry feature, and stepped out into my room once more. The curtains had been closed, and a clean pair of clothing had been laid out on the bed. A soft white shirt and grey sweatpants along with nondescript grey underwear. I slipped into my new clothes, then climbed under the covers. I was asleep within minutes, my dreams filled with the parade, the coming trials, and among other things, a pair of sea green eyes.

Chapter 9: Chapter 8- Precision

“I’m good at hiding in the dead and grey
Time after time I’ve been people I’m not
Places we go to are all that we’ve got.”
-Billie Marten

Finn

I woke up late for the first day of training. Technically I wasn’t late yet, but I barely had time to eat before I was supposed to leave. Dressed in my training uniform, tight fitting athletic clothes with a four emblazoned in red on the sleeve, I made my way to the dining room.

My mother sat gazing off into space. Her red hair hung loose around her, and her fingers worked tirelessly on a length of rope, tying and untying. I poured myself a glass of water, and then one for her. I was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be responsive today. Since the reaping she’d slipped into a non-verbal state. I understood, she’d done it a lot when I was little. Back then it had been easy, we had existed in silence together. I would bring her beach junk and she would smile. She would cook dinner, and I would grin at the table. But I knew she was trying to sort out her thoughts. Even if she couldn’t reach me right then, I knew she was there. It was in the way she paused her fingers when I set the glass down, how her eyes drifted across my face.

“I’ll see you later, mom. Take care of yourself today.” She didn’t react, her eyes only fled from my face as she resumed her knot tying. I could only hope that our capital escort had enough sense to feed her. Thea, the capital woman, could be quite dense when it came to my mother. For that matter, so could my district mate.

I had been reaped alongside one of the worst bullies I’d ever lived through. Being the son of a ‘traitor’ and a ‘crazy woman’ did nothing for you in school, especially with classmates whose parents had fought for District Two and the Capitol. So of course it was just my luck to get reaped with someone like that.

Speak of the devil, Brooke rounded the corner from her rooms, dressed like I was, with her blonde hair in a braid. When she saw me she smirked, her thin lips spreading across her face. Sometimes I wondered if her face would just crack open when she smiled. I was reminded of a great white shark. It made me shudder.

“Ready for training?” She asked cheerily, snatching an apple from the table. I nodded once, crossing my arms across my chest. “We need to make allies.” I practically rolled my eyes. She was simply assuming that we would be allies. I’d never agreed to it, but with Brooke it was hard to get in a word edgewise. She thought I’d forgotten the things she’d done to me in school. Back when I was smaller than her, she’d had no troubles shoving me into the water on my way home from school, or calling my father names, or sicking her elder brother on me. But suddenly, now that we were here together, relying on our supposed alliance to survive, she could get away with it all and we can be friends.

Instead of shooting her down immediately, I fixed her with a steady look. It was time for a test. “I was thinking about the girl from Twelve, she can shoot.” I watched as her expression formed into disgust.

“Oh no, not her. Didn’t you see her at the Reaping? And eating that rose? She’s stuck up, maybe some sort of savage. We don't need her ruining our image. Not to mention her parents are like… well were kind of traitors. I don't get why people like them-” Brooke shook her head before giving me a once over. “Plus, there’s no way she’s that good with a bow,” my district partner sneered, tossing her apple in the air. I nodded once. I couldn’t trust Brooke, and I had absolutely no standing with anyone else. How wonderful. Unfortunately this meant I was going to have to join the career pack. Pretend to enjoy being there, show off my skills on the first day, gain fair weather allies. But my goal was to stay alive, not make friends. If sticking with Brooke kept me alive, it was a sacrifice I would have to make.

My conversation with Willow had not gone as well as I had hoped yesterday. She'd been frighteningly unruffled about it all. But then, maybe this was small potatoes for her. She was the daughter of the Mockingjay.

“In that case, I think that One and Two would make pretty good allies, provided they’re not complete idiots. But we should get going,” I said, turning around. I couldn’t stand to look at her anymore. She was appraising me like I was a piece of meat, which I didn’t appreciate.

I crossed to the elevator, not waiting to see if she was following me. The idea of being stuck with her in an elevator was enough to make me want to run the other way. But I pressed the button, and was forced to wait for her to catch up. Just as Brooke reached my side, the doors dinged open. Standing in front of me, was a red haired boy, and Willow, glaring. So this was the District Twelve team. I’d never been more glad to see other people than I was in that moment. I saw Willow’s face go from a hint of surprise to a carefully disinterested expression as we stepped inside. I purposefully stood next to Willow, which forced Brooke towards the far end of the elevator.

“Sleep well?” I asked, smiling at everyone in the elevator. Aster, I thought that was the redhead’s name, looked at me like I had just sprouted horns. Willow just cocked an eyebrow up.

“Please, those beds are so comfortable we all probably slept like the dead,” Brooke said, bored and staring out the glass. Both Willow and Aster seemed to cringe at the mention of death. And I couldn't blame them, I felt my mood plummet as I remembered that we weren’t just kids in an elevator, we were going to have to kill each other in less than a week. Brooke didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care that she’d soured the mood. Maybe she had done so intentionally.

Willow cleared her throat awkwardly, toying with the end of her dark ponytail. She surprised me by speaking, her clear voice ringing through the elevator. “The bed was nice, but I found the showers to be the most interesting. There are so many different kinds of soap.” I let out a surprised chuff. Aster even spared a little smile. Brooke just looked at me for a moment before forcing a chuckle.

“What, they don’t have soap in Twelve?” She asked, arms crossing. Willow only glared.

We lapsed into silence after that, content to let the few further seconds in the elevator simply pass by. I looked over Willow’s head out to the floors beyond. They passed by the glass in a slow blur. The elevator was going too fast for me to see anything significant, but it was too slow to make things dance from focus.

I found myself glancing at Willow more often than not. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, which she tugged on periodically. I resisted the urge to reach out and tug on it too. She had changed some from last night. Where for the parade she’d been swathed in ice darkness, now she looked less ready to murder me for looking at her the wrong way. In either situation, she was still, admittedly, pretty. She did look like her mother, but there was something more harshly stunning about the way her face was built. Perhaps it was in the way her lips curved, or how the corners of her eyes tilted up, shadowed by long, thick lashes. Maybe it was her sharp cheekbones, and paralyzingly blue eyes.

I tore myself out of my musings when the elevator dinged, signaling our arrival on the training floor. I couldn’t afford to be thinking about a competitor in this way. Sure she was pretty, but I wanted to go home, and no doubt she did too. Even if we became allies, if no one else killed us, we would have to face each other. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

The training floor was nearly full when we arrived. Tributes had already gotten started, which means we probably missed the speech. Brooke brushed by me, heading directly for the spear station. Part of me wanted to chide her, before remembering that we were careers now. We had to be. So I trailed her, picking up a trident on the way. Then, I put on my biggest smile, and sauntered over to the District One and Two kids, who had predictably already begun to chat.

“Well, well, if it isn’t District Four,” a tall blond boy holding a sword looked me up and down. Vaguely my mind tried to recall what his name had been. I remembered his face from the reapings. He was District One, that much I knew. I also knew he was sizing me up, deciding if I was worth his time. Well I decided to do the same to him. I was much more open in the way I sized him up, a lazy smile playing on my face as I spun the trident I’d picked up.

“Guilty,” I said, shrugging, as Brooke flashed a grin.

“Come to show off your fishing skills? Or can you toss something other than nets?” The District One girl taunted, tossing her brown hair as she emerged from behind the boy. She was pretty tall, almost as tall as me. I wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating her. But it was certainly time for the charm. I would have to get into their group on my own, Brooke was already laughing at another tribute with the District Two girl. Real chummy. I tried not to roll my eyes. What a great bunch I was working with.

“Alas, I’m afraid all I’m good for is fishing,” I said, dipping my head. “Though, perhaps I could hit the occasional snake.” I flashed them a grin before I turned and threw my trident. I wasn’t even in the target range, several paces back from the red line. But I didn’t have to look to know I’d hit the target dead center. It made my stomach churn that they were human shaped, but I was going to have to come to terms with killing people, or I was going to die.

There was silence in the training room. I glanced around, my smirk firmly in place. I had to keep up the act. If I slipped for even a moment, it would spell disaster for me. Thankfully, the two in front of me looked impressed.

“Well, you can hit a target,” the girl shrugged, turning on her heel. She was heading for the hand to hand combat station where the District Five girl stood, circling a target. She looked like she was doing some type of dance. No, not dance I realized, some form of martial art, or yoga.

“Can you show me how to throw from that far away?” The District One boy called my attention back to him. He was squinting at me, deciding. I wasn’t going to fool myself, I knew what this was. It was a test. Because if I taught him, he would be more dangerous to me. If I didn’t, I would be targeted. I was trapped. But I simply shrugged.

“I can try.” For the next half hour, I showed Velour, that was his name, how to throw with greater range. He preferred spears to a trident, so we worked to adjust my form to that of a spear. While I was losing an advantage, I was gaining another. Velour was prone to chatting when he got bored, and I learned through delicate questioning that he had asthma. Which meant he wouldn’t be a great long distance runner, or sprinter for that matter. This would be helpful information for later.

He asked me about my father, whom I dismissed as an unknown in my life. I’d never met him after all. Even if I had inherited his skills. Though, that was more my mother’s doing. She’d encouraged me to use my father’s trident, had shown me videos of his games, and had covertly brought one of my father’s old friends to instruct me. Back then, I had wondered what I was being trained for. Now, however, I knew.

✦

I didn’t see Willow again until after lunch. I mostly stuck with the other careers, but I noticed she wasn’t anywhere I could see whenever I scanned the room. When I was on my way back from eating, I watched an arrow clatter to the floor. Everyone else was already engaged in other activities, so I stooped down to pick it up. I realized as I turned it over in my hands, that it was handmade. There was twine which secured a crudely carved stone arrowhead to the shaft of the arrow. The end with the feathers looked sticky where more twine wound around it, and I sniffed what smelled like tree sap. It was impressively made for having so few components. It was also sure to be deadly in the arena.

“Can you pass that back here,” asked a voice from the darkness overhead. Confused, I looked up, barely able to make out a figure hiding in the shadows. She was perched in the space between the doorway and the ceiling. The ledge was a good seven feet off the ground. Perhaps a space of three feet lay between it and the ceiling. She had easy access to the metal beams which ran along the ceiling and held up the lights. It was a strategic location I realized, she could watch everyone and size up the competition where no one could see her.

I twirled the arrow in my fingers, looking at the figure in the gloom thoughtfully. My mind made up, I approached the doorway. I had no idea how she’d gotten up there, so I opted for jumping. I placed the arrow in my mouth, then jumped out and reached for the edge of the ledge. My fingers caught, and I scrabbled for a better handhold. Finally, I got my top half over, and managed to hoist myself up. Willow looked at me in thinly veiled surprise, and I couldn’t help but give her a little smile.

“I asked for the arrow, not for you,” she said, turning back to her work. I set the arrow down next to her, noticing her supplies lined up in front of her. She had a pot of sap and a paintbrush, a roll of twine, a pile of feathers, and a bundle of sticks.

“I wanted to check out the view.” She didn’t look up from her work as she raised a hand and gestured towards the training room.

“Great view,” she said dryly. I leaned against the wall, content in the knowledge that there were unlikely to be cameras, or people to fool here. Well, there was Willow, but she would probably see right through any act I tried. She had those piercing blue eyes and air of intellect about her. Plus, she hadn't warmed to me at all.

“I saw you with the career pack earlier. Made friends already?” She asked, her fingers shook almost unnoticeably as they wound twine around a trio of feathers. I wondered why. And why she cared if I was teaming up with the career pack, it was a smart move and we both knew it.

“Yeah. They’re going to hunt and kill anyone who isn’t with them as soon as that cannon goes off,” I answered, unable to hide the hint of bitterness in my voice. Part of me wished that we weren’t in these circumstances. I could see myself truly being friends with Velour, maybe even Pearl, or that I was braver and could go against them. But I hated being alone. And if I died by one of their hands in the end, at least I wouldn’t be alone.

I expected Willow to press the issue, or say something snide about them. But instead she shocked me. “I want in.” 

Chapter 10: Chapter 9- Attention

Summary:

Training continues, alliances are formed.

Notes:

This is the last chapter in the first batch that I'm going to release. If you made it this far, thank you so much! I will have a new chapter (or two) ready soon, and work out a schedule for posting :)

Willow

After our encounter in the elevator, I watched Finn carefully for most of the day. I also kept an eye on Aster, he just looked lost. I hid above the doorway all day. I didn’t even move for lunch. I just practiced my knots, practiced making arrows, and ran through what I knew how to do. Today was my day for learning, understanding everyone else. I had talked it over with my mother that morning. She had warned me not to disappear completely, but I thought it was strategic. Of course I felt a little bad for abandoning Aster, but he was better off learning on his own, he’d be less of a target without me, and he would have to grow up sometime. Better in training than in the arena.

It was almost peaceful, the way I could just sit back and watch without having anyone watch me. And I soon lost myself to my work. I hadn’t even realized everyone had returned from lunch until I dropped an arrow. Really, my fingers must’ve been getting tired, and I flexed them several times. The joints popped loudly.

I was going to slink down to grab my dropped arrow, but to my dismay, I saw Finn bend to pick it up instead. He examined it before looking around. I knew the moment he saw me, because the green hue of the ocean brightened in recognition.

“Can you pass that back here,” I demanded more than asked, holding my hand out. I was happy to be unnoticed in my little spot. It was dark, sure, but no one had found me yet. Until I’d been stupid enough to expose my location. I mentally kicked myself.

But of course Finn had to jump up and invade my space as well as my thoughts. But at least he gave me my arrow back. It wasn’t until after I told him that I wanted into the career pack that he had perhaps his first real expression with me. One that wasn’t a mask. He was shocked.

“Why?” I rolled my eyes. It should’ve been obvious. If I didn’t join them, they were going to kill me immediately. I wanted to live. This was the smartest option. Even my mother had told me to team up with the careers, but to never trust them. Which meant I needed an alliance within the alliance. And perhaps the best option was sitting right next to me.

“Because of my mother, I’m a target. They already know I can shoot. Either I team up with them, or they kill me on the first day,” I shrugged, trying to refocus on my work. But it was hard, Finn was too close to me, watching my fingers work. I could feel the warmth radiating from him. We were what, an inch apart? Crammed together on a four foot long and three foot high alcove. His gaze on me was distracting, slightly unsettling in a strangely comfortable way. But I needed to remember that we were competitors, tributes, about to go into an arena and fight to the death.

“I’m sure you could take them,” Finn said, his gaze focused on where the careers were laughing at a boy on the ground. It looked like Velour was sparring with the kid.

“So much faith. Look, it’s in my best interest. Will you help me?” Finn turned to me now, looking me in the eyes. I hated how much he was distracting me.

“I was going to ask 'what's in it for me,' but I have another option for you-” Before he could finish, there was a shrieking laugh from across the room. The girl from District Four was clutching at her middle as Pearl wiped tears from her eyes. It took me a moment to find the source of their laughter. And when I did I nearly jumped from my spot.

Velour was standing over two boys, who were on the ground wrestling with each other, or no, trying to get up. One of the boys I didn’t recognize, but the other was Aster. They seemed to be struggling against something. I squinted, then leapt from the ledge, rushing over. Aster was struggling to get a net off of himself and the other boy, who seemed passed out now. I realized with growing horror that the net was wrapped tightly around the boy’s neck, and Aster was badly tangled.

Without thinking further, I snatched a knife directly from Velour’s hands. He tried to make a grab for me, but I was already on the other side of the fallen net. He only looked on in confusion. I, meanwhile, filed away the knowledge that I was quicker than him for further use.

“Willow- Willow I was climbing the net, it ripped—they knew,” Aster sobbed, struggling against the net. I didn’t have the patience for his tears, I had suspected foul play. But there would be no proof, and I couldn’t think about that right now, the younger boy, the boy from Seven wasn’t breathing.

I sawed at the pieces around the boy’s neck, freeing him and Aster in the process, then I listened for breath. I counted to three, then began blowing air into his lungs. Of course I had been taught the life saving technique. My mother had coached me through it when I was young. I’d never forgotten the way she looked when she told me the story of how it had saved lives during the rebellion. And I was rewarded when the boy gasped, letting out a weak cough before his eyes fluttered and his chest sank into a steady rhythm. Of course only then did the trainers arrive, helping the boy sit up. They led him to another room, and I was thanked for my efforts, then it was over.

Aster had retreated behind me as I stared at the careers, who were all looking at me. The Four girl still had the remains of a sick smile on her face. I wanted to slap her. But any violence against another tribute was prohibited. And yet someone had managed to work around that, bringing down a net as the boy from Seven and Aster practiced on it. I doubted they’d known it was going to choke him, that bit was pure chance, but the way they had just stood by and laughed as Aster cried and tried to help the other boy. That part was sick, and I had to clamp my jaw shut to keep from saying so to them.

I stood, gesturing menacingly with the knife. “None of you thought to help?” They did not look afraid, in fact they looked like they were holding in laughter. I realized what I must’ve looked like to them, a little girl holding a knife that she didn’t know how to use. Well they were wrong. I knew how to use a knife.

"What, and miss you kissing Seven?" Pearl was laughing so hard she could barely get the words out.

One of the bigger girls, the one from District Four, sauntered closer to me. I narrowed my eyes, trying to anticipate why she was getting closer. For a moment, I thought she was going to stand by my side. I was disappointed. She knocked into me hard with her shoulder, sending me a step backwards.

To his credit, Finn looked shaken. And the girl from Two was staring with pursed lips.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Or anywhere, today. You’re so easy to miss,” she snickered, tossing her blonde braid over her shoulder and directly into my face. At that moment, I hated her. I knew they were just trying to rile me up, get me to show them my skills so they knew what to expect. Or to get me in trouble for lashing out. But I wouldn’t give them that particular satisfaction. I would however show them what I was made of.

Before she got too far out of reach, I snatched the end of the District Four girl’s braid. I yanked her head down to my level, tugging her braid taut. I saw the moment it registered what I was going to do, the moment her eyes widened in surprise as my knife passed near her throat. In less than a second, I’d sliced through her braid, severing a good ten inches of hair. Then I released her to feel at the back of her head, her brown eyes boiling with rage.

I held up the braid in victory, a smirk playing across my face. Everyone in the room was looking at me now, the careers in mixed expressions of shock and amusement, and the other tributes ranging from looking impressed to looking horrified.

“Sorry, my aim is just so terrible,” I said, turning to the District Four girl who was still combing through her now short hair. “Your neck is easy to miss I guess,” I repeated her words back to her, completely unconcerned with the growing rage on her face. Oh yeah, she was about to rip my face off. No matter, it was time for me to go anyway.

I dropped the braid on the floor, then walked calmly across the room. I couldn’t go back to my spot without revealing it to everyone watching. So I would have to act nonchalant and wait for people to get bored. At least I had established I wasn’t to be messed with. But I just hoped I hadn’t made myself a target. The way the District Four girl was glaring at me, I already knew she was planning on killing me the moment we stepped into that arena. But District One, those two were conferring and glancing at me. They still didn’t know how good I was at fighting, so they couldn’t make a strategy yet. They knew I was dangerous, but they didn’t know in which way. I was hoping this would keep me safe, at least for a little while.

I was focused on trying to build a fire when I heard someone come up behind me. I half expected it to be Finn, but I hadn’t seen him since I left his district mate’s hair on the floor. He was probably still there, relaxing or spying or flirting or doing whatever it was that Finn did. But I was even more surprised to see who it really was.

“So, she has teeth,” he said. I knew already he was standing uncomfortably close to me. And as I stood up, I turned in place, coming face to face with Velour. I schooled my features into something impassive.

“What do you want,” I asked flatly, crossing my arms across my chest. Secretly I was jumping at the chance. If I said the right things, I may just score an alliance, for the first bit of the games at least. They were my best shot at getting a bow.

“Why do you assume I want something?” He asked, staring down my front. His eyes only lifted to mine after a long moment. I curled my lip in disgust. This was going to be an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for me, I already knew. But I took comfort in the knowledge that I was in a room full of weapons. And instead of giving him an answer, I simply rolled my eyes.

But I did finally catch sight of Finn, standing with the rest of the careers. While the others were making a show of not watching this conversation play out, Finn was staring directly at us. He was wearing a guarded expression, but I could nearly see him glaring at Velour. I wasn’t sure if he was upset that Velour was talking to me in general, or that he was probably going to offer me an alliance.

“I’m assuming you’re pretty good with a bow? And a knife, passably,” he chuckled, “You can hunt?” Velour asked, taking a fraction of a step back. He was nervous, I realized. Why, I had no idea, but I figured that it was a good thing.

“I can hunt,” I confirmed, narrowing my eyes. I wasn’t sure what angle he was playing here, and doubt flared in my chest. Surely the careers would take the cornucopia, and with it any bow provided. I had absolutely zero chance of survival without a bow. If I got an alliance, I got a bow. Simple.

“Then I think you’d make a good addition to our group. Fish boy is out if there’s no water, you and I can be useful to each other regardless. Split at top ten,” he said. I struggled to keep my face composed. I couldn’t reveal how imperative it was that I had this alliance. But he’d also revealed something else, they probably didn’t know how to hunt for food. And if food shortage was going to be a problem in the arena, that meant the cornucopia would probably be less stocked than in the past. I ignored the roiling in my gut at the second realization, it was me or Finn. If it was land, I was safe and they would kill Finn. If it was water…

“Split at top ten,” I agreed. “Keep me alive, I’ll keep you all fed.” And that was that. Velour nodded once, and then went back to the group. Slowly, I trailed after him. Finn regarded me with a strange look. I couldn’t quite read it. But the others were looking at me like I was an inconvenience, and I certainly didn’t appreciate that. So, slowly, I drifted towards the knife station. I was within earshot of the group, and it was clear some were more happy than others to have me.

Brooke, the girl who’s hair I’d cut, kept insisting I was going to be useless because Finn could fish. Pearl actually defended my position in their group, saying they didn’t know if there would be fish in the arena. The District Two boy, Orion sided with Pearl while his district mate, Ally seemed to be on the fence. Or maybe she was just quiet with her opinions. Velour shut them all up with a wave of his hand, and a few whispered words. Finn was silent, but his face hardened when Velour spoke. It was obvious Finn disagreed with whatever that had been said, but Brooke seemed pacified.

I just rolled my eyes and went back to practicing making spears out of sticks. I wasn’t going to show them what I could actually do with a weapon. No, I would only show how I could survive. My skill with a bow would be revealed in the arena and not a second before.

It was nearly time to head back to our apartments when Finn approached me again. He strutted up like a peacock. I could tell that this was a performance, but for who I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I certainly wasn’t going to be making any fishing hooks in the arena.

Finn was so close now I could feel his breathing on the back of my neck. I was about to snap at him, or perhaps stab him with a crudely made fishing hook, when he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Act like I just said something extremely funny.”

I whirled to look at him, keeping my face carefully guarded. He wasn’t smiling, he didn’t look amused at all. I cast a quick glance over his shoulder, only to find the career group watching us carefully. Then I understood, so I let out the bubbliest laugh I could muster, even covering my mouth with a hand. Slowly, the group seemed to lose interest in us, and Finn stepped away from me, giving me room to breathe. We stood next to each other with our backs turned to the rest of the room.

“You’ve been tricked,” he said, beginning on his own fishing hook. I stilled for a second. Of course I knew that the careers had no intention of letting me live, but I thought we’d agreed to split at top ten.

“They’re going to use you to kill other tributes at the start, and when the bloodbath is over you’re dead,” he said simply. My heart clenched. I had indeed been tricked. But what Finn didn’t know was that I had a plot of my own. I had never intended on sticking around. I would grab the bow, protected by the careers, snatch some supplies, and hightail it out of there. Of course that would make me more of a target, but I was never going to be unnoticed by these guys. Everyone here either loved or hated my parents, and the careers were of the latter group.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, keeping any hint of anxiety out of my voice. If the other careers knew Finn had spoiled their little plot, they’d kill him, water or no water. While there was a part of me that said it would be easier if they killed him, one less person between me and victory, another part of me argued that he didn’t deserve to die outright like that.

Finn looked down at me, and I couldn’t help but stare into those turquoise eyes. For a moment, it was as if the world was fading around us, the other tributes nothing but a faint hum, the coming games nothing but a dream. But he cleared his throat and ducked his head away from mine. It was just a little warm in the room, I told myself as my face flamed.

“I never got to tell you the other option,” he said softly, his attention focused on his work once more. I had to admit, he knew how to make a fishing hook. “Why don’t you and I be allies. I can use a trident and I can fish, you can hunt and use a bow. We can keep each other alive,” he insisted, casting me a sideways glance.

I had to think for a moment. I was nearly positive he had an ulterior motive for this. Or was it that he simply disliked the careers as much as I did? Whatever his reasons, I certainly trusted him more than I did the careers. And if what he’d said was true, and they were simply going to kill me, perhaps allying with Finn was a smart move. I’d seen him with a trident, he was good. He was also one of my biggest threats. It would be good to have someone to watch my back. But if we were allies, I should tell him about the careers plan, to eliminate him if he proved unnecessary.

Slowly, I turned to face him once more, my hip pressed against the table. “Our parents were friends. I- I think we owe it to them to try and keep each other alive,” I said solemnly, thinking of Finn’s father, who’d never gotten to meet his son. But I knew he’d be proud of him. Finn could certainly give his father a run for his money in combat, or from what I’d seen. “Which is why I have to tell you, that if there’s no water in that arena, they’re planning to kill you.”

“I know.” He nodded.

I stared. How had he known?

“It stands to reason that whichever one of us can’t keep them fed has to go. Allies then. Until the top three, that is if Brooke doesn’t kill you for what you did to her hair,” he added with a grin. This time I wasn’t faking when I laughed.

A part of me cringed back. I had asked him to help me to gain an alliance with the careers, which he’d had some part in securing for me. However, this put him in more danger. I didn’t understand him.

Shaking my head, I returned to my work, and Finn returned to the careers.

Chapter 11: Chapter 10- An Understanding

Summary:

Peeta has opinions!

Notes:

Hi hi! Here's another chapter! Aiming to update every Friday and Tuesday, but we shall see! As I said, thank you so so so much to everyone who has read and left kudos, I really appreciate it! :)

Peeta

We had two days left with our daughter. Two days until she would go into the arena, and possibly never emerge. I didn’t want to concern Katniss even more, but what chance did Willow have? She was shorter than Katniss, leaner than her too. Where Katniss had always been survival oriented, Willow had grown up without that concern. In a way, I was glad of that. We'd given our daughter a better childhood than we'd had. But at the same time, it was going to cost her here. She could shoot, but she didn’t know many other weapons besides knives. She knew what to eat in the wild, but what chance did she stand against brutal killers? They would rush her, and she just wouldn’t be quick enough. I could see it all happening as if I was there. Willow being stabbed, or shot, or speared, or even beaten to death while Katniss and I watched from a screen.

I drew myself out of these thoughts as Katniss and I neared the sliding glass doors. It was time to focus on the task at hand. We were discussing an alliance between our children, that is, us and Annie Odair.

Somehow Finnick’s son had convinced Willow into an alliance within the career alliance. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the idea. Obviously Finnick had been my friend, had saved my life more than once. But his son… he was a wild card. And when it came down to it, one of them was going to have to die, if they lived that long.

Oh God, Finnick. His last words had been screaming. He hadn’t needed to die. It was all pointless. Everything was pointless. He had died for no reason, no reason at all. Katniss had shot him, Katniss had-

Katniss squeezed my arm, eyes flashing. She knew, she always knew when my thoughts drifted into irrationality. She hadn’t killed Finnick. The late president had. Things were different now, and yet so, so similar.

My thoughts refocused on Willow and Finn. This would no doubt end badly. But Annie had been our friend for years now. We owed it to her to try and keep her son alive. Until top three, Willow had said. I would just have to make it clear that if he did anything to my daughter, I would hunt him down. Arena or no arena.

As this was technically a secret meeting, we were heading for a little café just off the main square. The glass windows gave way to glass doors seamlessly. The sign glowed in pastel colors about their new menu. Holographic screens danced on the windows. Already footage of the tributes’ training for that day was being broadcast. I caught a brief glimpse of Willow standing near Finn, talking animatedly, to a blond boy, but the camera swiveled to another tribute.

I saw Annie sitting in the back of the cafe, watching the screen with a surprisingly alert expression on her face. Her mental state flowed in and out of sanity. Her better days were more common than her worse ones, or had been, until recently. I hoped we’d caught her on a clearer day. But then, who was I to speak on such things? Some days I still struggled with what was real and what was created. Visions of the arena, of torture, strange and twisted versions of my friends, of Katniss. Sometimes it was all too much.

“Annie,” I greeted, smiling as I sat down. Katniss sat next to me, interlocking our hands under the table. Annie smiled at the two of us, but her expression was clearly guarded. She was probably just as concerned about this whole thing as we were. When Willow had told us the plan, the first thing we’d done was try and talk her out of it. Of course she’d hear none of it, and so now we were here.

“Lovely to see you both, but I abhor the conditions,” she said, her voice calm and soft. In all the time I’d known Annie she’d never raised her voice. Or at least I’d never heard her do so.

“Let's get to the point,” Katniss said bluntly, her mouth tilting downwards. Always down to business. Annie would understand, our children were at stake. “How is this alliance going to work? Are we splitting funds and sponsors?” Katniss looked as stressed as I felt, and I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I was hoping so. Anything we send would go to them both anyways,” she said, her fingers knotting in a string. She twisted them, and turned them, and she had a knot. In half a second the knot had been untied once more.

“That sounds fair,” I nodded. But there was something that was bothering me. Perhaps it was because Finn and Willow appeared on screen again, this time side by side and facing down the career group. For a moment they were standing in the arena. Finn and Willow, surrounded by these other kids, each of them desperate to win, knives at each other’s throats. But they were only sparring. This time.

On screen, Finn stepped in front of Willow, jokingly tapping the bigger boy from One on the chest. But how long before it wasn’t a joke? How long would it be until our children finally understood the cost? How long until they could see blood on our hands?

“He’ll protect her,” Annie said quietly, her eyes glued to the screen. She sounded far away, and I wondered if the both of us were about to slip. But a knot in my stomach released a little. Annie knew us, and she knew her son. I trusted her. And I deep down I knew too, Willow and Finn would look out for each other until they couldn’t.

“She’ll look out for him too,” Katniss agreed, eyes fixed on the same screen which now held Caesar talking animatedly.

“The question is, how are they going to get away from the other careers? My son informs me that one of them is going to be targeted depending on the terrain.” Annie’s fingers paused, and her green-blue eyes met mine, then Katniss’s.

Willow had mentioned this.

“He’s a sweet boy.” Annie’s eyes seemed far away, and I glanced at my wife. Concern knit her brows together.

"What would they say to abandoning the cornucopia entirely?" Katniss leaned forwards, the intensity of her gaze fixed on Annie.

“Why don’t we have some tea and we’ll keep talking,” I said gently, nodding to Katniss who seemed to be chomping at the bit for this planning session. But Annie needed calm and quiet to think. Every thought had to be fraught. I understood. Katniss had always preferred action to help her organize her thoughts, but now wasn’t the time for that.

Chapter 12: Chapter 11- The Number

Summary:

The tributes' scores are released.

Notes:

Was feeling generous. Have another chapter <3

Willow

It was early morning, I could tell by the sunlight filtering through the curtains. I hadn’t meant to wake up so early, but I suppose I only had two more days before I went into the arena. And today was important, it was independent review day. It was the day where the gamemakers would determine how dangerous each of us was. It was the day I would finally show my skill with a bow. I just had to get through the morning.

I had never been one to get up before I had to, but for some reason, I found myself rising to go to the window. My bare feet made no sound against the rug. I shoved the curtain aside, stepping into the sunlight. I squinted against the glare, but as my eyes adjusted to the brightness I looked out over the city.

After the war, the Capitol had looked decimated. Buildings had crumbled and people had fled. The truest citizens had remained, the loyalists. Slowly, the Capitol had rebuilt, with the help of the districts. In the very early years of my life, my parents had traveled through the districts, helping to rebuild where they could, but mostly being toted about for show. President Coin had made great efforts to rebuild. The rail system had been heavily damaged and been completely redone, the peacekeepers were trained in warfare… Then everything was taken over by the new President Snow; great and terrible, her grandfather’s ways resurrected. Coin had been bad, this I knew. But Celeste Snow was worse.

Now the city sparkled in different gemstone colors. Almost rebuilt, almost the same, but the scars of war were everywhere. In the buildings that had yet to be rebuilt, in the citizens who flinched at loud noises. Some things would never be the same. But it seemed that the Snow line was destined to rule forever.

Suddenly disgusted with the gleaming city, I flung the curtain closed once more, and went to get dressed. As I headed into the kitchen, I saw only an avox preparing our meal. I knew we weren’t supposed to speak, and that they could get in trouble for it, but I had to say something. I settled for a simple, “good morning.”

The avox, a stout blond girl looked at me in surprise for a moment. I only stood there sheepishly. She gave me a little nod that I took as a ‘good morning’ and headed for the table. I was already dressed, so perhaps I could head down to training early. It wasn’t like Aster would miss me. He’d branched out of late, making his own alliances and refusing to train with me. But I supposed it had to have happened at some point. I just wasn’t looking forward to seeing him in the arena. But then again I wasn’t looking forward to seeing the arena period.

“If they wonder, I went to train,” I said to the open air, glancing in the direction of the avox girl. She only stiffened once more. I wasn’t sure how to take that, but she gave me a nod and a tiny smile. I found myself smiling back, and wishing I could ask her name. How terrible it must be to be mutilated so, left with no voice when that was all one truly had in this world. But then, I supposed that was the point.

The building was silent, and no one stopped me as I took the elevator to the training floor. As I was walking down the hallway, I half expected Finn or Velour to pop up. Both of them had a habit of doing that. Velour did it in a much creepier way though, and always with those peering eyes and a smile. It made me shiver just thinking about it.

The door to the training room slid open when I got near, and I slipped inside. There was only one trainer there, blankly watching a television screen. He cast me one glance, then went back to his entertainment. At least there was no one else here. I could probably warm up and dust off my archery before everyone got here. Without further hesitation, I snatched a bow and a quiver of arrows. On second thought, I fastened a belt of throwing knives to my hip. I could throw, but not as well as I could shoot.

Several seconds later, I was standing in a holographic chamber, a fight simulator. There was a faint whirring sound, and a few heartbeats later a figure was rushing towards me with a sword. I nocked an arrow quicker than I could blink and fired it. The figure disintegrated.  I caught sight of one out of the corner of my eye, and sent an arrow hurtling in that direction. I spun in a slow circle, and the light gathered up on the wall. I narrowly dodged a knife before shooting the figure in the eye.

It barely gave me a second before two figures approached me at once. With a satisfied smirk, I snatched an arrow, sending it at the figure which was further away. Then I reached for a knife. I could do close range throwing easier than I could long range. I was in no way an expert, but I knew how to make a killing blow. So I tossed the knife directly into the figure’s forehead, the figure disintegrated and the knife clattered to the floor.

It went on like that, I took out perhaps thirty silhouettes in five minutes. But when the simulation ended, I wondered how it would feel when I could see their faces, when I recognized them. I didn’t get a chance to think about that, because when I looked at the sliding glass doors, there was a face pressed up against it. Aster. Shit.

I stepped out of the chamber, giving him a polite nod. He just looked at me like he’d seen a ghost. I took a step towards him, mouth open to deliver assurances, but he stepped back. And then the door to the elevator opened, revealing the two tributes from District Thirteen. Aster ran to them, his fear still marring his face. And that’s how I knew I was screwed. He would tell everyone. He was clearly already chatting up a storm with the two District Thirteen kids, a fourteen year old girl and a sixteen year old boy. They were both on the lean side, red hair and freckles. It was only then that I realized they were siblings.

As I slowly got closer, I managed to catch their names, Iona and Ivor. But they had seemed to notice my presence. The girl, Iona stared me down coldly, her arms crossed over her chest. Whatever was about to happen, I could guarantee it wasn’t going to be good.

“So, you can actually shoot,” said the girl. Her voice was harsh and deep for her age. It surprised me a little. “We’ll make sure to kill you first,” she growled. Her face split into a grim frown. Shocked further, I took another step back. These guys looked dangerous, I couldn’t believe I had overlooked them before. Though there was something almost comical in the way the three redheads behaved together, their dynamic was sure to be a strange one.

Suddenly, I feared for Aster. He was an easy target, someone to take out early in the games. All I knew was that he could do was smile and wave. But if he had allied himself with these guys, he was either smarter than I’d thought, or much, much dumber. But I still had to defend myself.

“You stay out of my way, and keep your mouths shut, and I’ll do the same.” Iona looked affronted, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Her brother silently placed a hand on her shoulder. Either to hold her back or to offer support, I wasn’t sure. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you two with your hand to hand combat. You think you’re so sneaky, pretending to beat each other easily,” I put on a fake sneer. I hated acting this way, especially in front of Aster. But I wanted to live. I needed to survive. And for that, I would have to pretend.

Iona only glared at me. But finally, Ivor spoke up. “Your dumb boyfriend is here. Why don’t you go on your way, and we’ll be on ours,” his voice was raspy, and hissed through the air. Aster remained silent. I decidedly didn’t like these two, especially for assuming whoever just walked in was my boyfriend.

I turned on my heel, placing the bow back on its stand before marching past Finn and Brooke towards my nearly secret spot. I saw Finn try to follow me, but Brooke had him by the arm. She whispered something in his ear and he seemed to deflate, but flashed her a grin.

Finn kept looking at me, a question in his eyes, but I didn’t feel like answering. So I checked to make sure no one was looking before using the barely visible ledge to hoist myself up. Today was already spoiled for me, and tomorrow would be no better. This was our final day of training. Perhaps one of my final days alive. Tears pricked at my eyes. I was hidden enough that no one could see me in the darkness. Some of the tributes seemed to look around for me, but they quickly gave up, focusing on their last day of training.

As everyone arrived, the room got louder. I stayed curled in the corner, my knees drawn to my chest. I didn’t even have arrow making to distract me. Instead I wallowed in self pity, tried to rationalize and weigh my chances realistically.

No way could I take the career pack alone. After my parents had met with Annie, they still couldn’t come up with a good plan. With Finn perhaps I stood a chance. But then there was the new group, Aster, Iona and Ivor. They were dangerous too, not to be underestimated. And the way Aster was using the climbing wall, I could tell he was training to win. He had changed. Sometimes he seemed so small and frightened. But sometimes he had this look in his eyes, and when he trained like that…

So everything came down to Finn. It was either trust him, or find someone else immediately. Though I figured it was already too late. The lines had been drawn, and Finn and I stood on the same side. For now at least.

There was a huff from below the ledge which drew me from my thoughts. And speak of the devil… Finn stood staring up into the gloom. He was squinting, as if he couldn’t quite see me. I thrust out a hand, offering to help him up. Finally spotting me, he nodded, grasping my hand firmly. I was immediately privy to the knowledge of how much larger his hands were. Calloused in places, but warm and soft pressed against my palm.

Realizing I’d just been looking at him in silence without helping him up for several seconds, I lurched backwards, yanking his arm upwards. He gave a little grunt, but ultimately managed to get his arms over the ledge. I kept tugging on his hand, unsure if I was helping or not. Perhaps I had tugged a little too hard, because when he finally got a leg up, he wound up draped across my lap. All I could do was look down in surprise as Finn struggled to shift off of me. He ended up elbowing me in the middle, and I let out a surprised ‘oomph’ doubling over as my breakfast threatened to return.

“Ah, sorry,” he said, holding out his hands in apology. “I didn’t mean to do that, I hit my head,” he rubbed at his forehead, wincing. I frowned down at my middle, hoping it wouldn’t bruise.

“It’s okay, looks like we were both casualties of this ledge,” I said, trying to lighten things up. I was glad for the darkness up here, there was no way for him to see my flaming cheeks and flustered appearance.

“What are you doing up here? It’s almost time for our skill demonstrations,” he said, settling back against the wall. He was almost too tall to sit comfortably, and even then his head brushed against the ceiling. Whereas I had plenty of room to stretch out, nearly a whole head of space sat between me and the ceiling. One benefit of being shorter, I supposed.

“I just don’t see the point in pretending to socialize with these people, when we’re going to hunt each other, and kill each other, in two days,” I shrugged, casting my gaze towards the other tributes.

Finn shrugged, also staring out at the room. I could tell he was thinking like I was. How were we going to survive this? I’d only known Finn for a few days. We’d never trained together before this, and we weren’t even friends. Not really. So how on earth was I supposed to trust him in life or death situations?

“Willow,” he began, “we need a plan of escape.” I snorted. As if I didn’t already know that. “I’m serious,” he said, eyes flashing.

“I know, it’s just-" I paused, suddenly overcome by emotion. "Don’t you think I know that already? I’m out of ideas.”

He was silent, considering. “Well, let’s keep it simple. We need to get away from the careers as soon as you get a bow, and as soon as I get a trident. We don’t want to be split up, at least not for too long…” He spoke his thoughts aloud, and I listened silently. “Depending on the arena, we could plan to steal what we both need and get away. So if it’s water, I stay and get you your bow. If it’s land, you do the same with my trident.”

“That would-“ I bit my tongue. I’d been about to say that it would take a great deal of trust, but it was the best plan we’d managed to come up with. I didn’t like it. “What if one of us dies?” I asked instead.

Finn shrugged, “try not to.”

I rolled my eyes.

There was a disturbance in the room, and people began to head towards the door. “I think it’s time to go,” he said, beginning to get down. I nodded once before hopping to the ground. My ankles protested but of course I ignored them. It bothered me that we had no better plan, but at least we had some sort of idea of one now. The other tributes were following a man down the hallway, towards an open chamber. Sliding glass doors opened automatically, facing a set of benches. There were thirteen in total, each stamped with a number. The room itself matched the slate grey of the rest of the building. But a giant gate on the far wall was made of a much darker metal. I could infer that this heavy looking door was automated, based on the keypad beside it, and that the chamber beyond was where the individual review happened.

I nodded once to Finn before we separated, him going to sit at the Four bench, and I next to Aster at Twelve. Aster stared me down as I approached. Clearly he was still bothered by that morning. Iona and Ivor sat on the bench behind us, also glaring at me. This was just great, I was going to be stuck here for over two hours being glared at by my district mate and his allies, for being good at archery. It was going to be a long day.

Slowly, the number of tributes waned. I passed the time by imagining traveling through the districts, getting to see the ocean and the beach, the mountains and desert I knew existed in the West. I imagined the feeling of sun on my skin. I wondered how salty the ocean actually was. The crying of gulls echoed in my ears, and for a moment I could almost believe I was there, that the games were just a distant dream.

“Willow Mellark,” the voice called out over the intercom. Jarred from my thoughts, I rose from the bench, blinking in the harsh lights. I hadn’t realized just how zoned out I’d been. The room was the same, Aster glaring at me, Iona and Ivor acting disinterested and muttering to each other quietly.

“Good luck, Aster,” I said, turning towards the dark metal door which had slid open. He didn’t say anything, only turned his attention to the floor. Turning my back on the room, I stepped into a hallway. It ran for about ten feet before meeting another door. The lights flickered occasionally, a faint hum resounding from the ceiling. Despite the light, it was dark. The hallway itself looked to be composed of sturdier stone than the rest of the building.

When I reached the end of the hall, the door opened silently, revealing a room just as large as the training room. Racks of different types of weapons hung against the wall. Painting supplies, ropes and wires sat on a table to my right. Dummies and targets were situated against the back wall. A few had been decapitated, some had gaping wounds. I gulped down my fear and curiosity about who’d done that. I obviously would only be showing them my skills with the bow, and perhaps some knives. But I didn’t want to get too high of a score. I was already going to be targeted enough.

The game makers sat on a raised balcony, a force field shielding them from me. I smirked, remembering that my mother had been the one to make that necessary. At least they all seemed attentive. The president’s sister, the head game maker, seemed especially focused on me. Her fingers were interlaced on the table in front of her, and her dark rimmed eyes followed me as I made my way to the weapons rack.

There were several options for bows. I tested their weight in my hand before settling on a lightweight metal recurve. I knew how to use most bows, but there was something about the way this one fit in my hand. I drew it from the rack, snatching a quiver of arrows as well.

“Willow Mellark, District Twelve,” I said, staring up at the game makers. None of them were dressed as outrageously as most in the Capitol, I realized. But most did seem rather disinterested in me. Agrippa, the head game maker waved her hand passively. I took it as a sign to go ahead.

I tried to keep my pace measured and even as I strode over to the targets. I remained several paces behind the red line which marked forty feet. I raised the bow, nocked an arrow, and took a deep breath. I drew the string back past my cheek, making sure I had the target in my sight. It took less than a second for the arrow to hit the human shaped target in the eye. I didn’t wait, I was already onto the second target. It was a rapid dance of drawing arrows and letting them fly. I barely checked to see if they’d hit. I just knew.

It was only when I reached for another arrow to find my quiver empty that I stopped. Twenty targets stood in front of me. Each with an arrow sticking out of where an eye would be on a human. A few had even gone right through the target to come out the back. I cast a glance towards the game makers, who were regarding me with varying degrees of shock and interest. Agrippa was the only one openly frowning. I didn’t stick around. I said nothing more as I left the bow on the rack and dumped the quiver on the floor next to it. Then I was gone, hoping I’d done enough.

It was only later that evening when the scores were announced that I realized it didn’t matter what I did. I could have just sat there painting flowers and I would have scored high. The game makers wanted me to be a target, and a target I would be.

We all gathered in the living room. Aster silently ate a bowl of soup in a chair on the edge of the room. Sappho and Cannelle sat next to each other on one of the larger couches, each enjoying their own soup and discussing various Capitol things. My father stood behind my mother and I, and I sunk deeper into the sofa, struggling to pay attention to the conversation on the television.

Caesar was rambling tonight. He’d talked about Finn’s score for nearly fifteen minutes. And while it was an impressive eleven, Pearl had also scored an eleven. But I guess Caesar just didn’t find her as interesting. But as soon as Caesar said the words District Twelve, the room went quiet.

“And for District Twelve, our lovely Willow Mellark. Turns out she is gifted with a bow. Perhaps even more so than her mother!” Caesar chuckled as the audience cheered. My picture appeared on screen, looking serious and deadly. Dread coiled in my stomach and I knew. I knew without him having to say it. “And she’s earned a whopping twelve! One of the highest ever, folks!”

The room was silent, I stood up slowly. Caesar rambled on. Cannelle regarded me with a look of sympathy. My father watched with an expression of defeat. My mother looked stunned. But perhaps Aster’s was the worst of all. He looked terrified of me.

I walked slowly to my room, keeping my paces even. I opened the door, shut it, locked it behind me. Climbing into bed, I didn’t even bother to remove my clothes. What was the point? I knew what had happened. I’d been dead the moment I'd been reaped.

I didn’t even register what I’d heard on my way to my rooms, not until the next morning, at least.

Aster had scored a ten.

Chapter 13: Chapter 12- Fatal Mistakes I

Summary:

The interviews are underway!

Notes:

Happy Tuesday! Enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading!

Finn

I sat staring in shock at the screen, where Willow’s face was plastered next to a twelve. A twelve. The highest score given. Even I’d gotten eleven, which was impressive, but a twelve? The game makers were putting another target on her back. This time for those who might’ve ignored her before. But now? I could never regret allying with her. No, this just meant I’d have to work harder to protect her. Something had shifted in me these past few days. The Capitol loved her, the districts loved her, she held their attention completely. The rest of us were just there to fill out the cast for her games. I could understand why some would hate her for that, however, in my mind she held an untapped power. One that she might use for good. Or perhaps this was all delusional thinking from a boy being sent to his death. All I'd decided was that she needed to live, I only wanted to. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if we made it to the final two. I couldn’t kill her, but could she kill me?

“That’s outrageous.” Of course Brooke had to open her big mouth. Really, her mouth was too big for her face. “Guess we know who to kill first,” she smirked, with a conspiratory glance towards me. I just nodded. Brooke didn’t know about our secret alliance, and it was going to stay that way. As long as Brooke thought I was on the career’s side, everything would work out. I just needed to get Willow a bow, and myself a trident and then we were gone. Hopefully it would be as simple in execution as in planning.

But we were in for another shock that night. Willow’s district mate, Aster Undersee appeared on the screen. Caesar raised his eyebrows, then showed the boy’s score. “A shock for sure, young Aster over here has earned a ten! Look at that folks!”

My first impression of Aster had been that he was a small, shy boy. I had him pegged as someone who wouldn’t make it past the bloodbath. But clearly he had some hidden skill which made him dangerous. That could be trouble in the arena. Especially since I was sure neither Willow nor I knew what it was.

“What a joke,” Brooke sighed, toying with her newly shortened hair. She lay draped over the sofa, looking as arrogant as she possibly could. I definitely wouldn’t be sad to part from her. She had been nothing but annoying this whole time. Loud, obnoxious and far too bloodthirsty. Thinking back on our time together, she really hadn’t changed much since she was a child. Except now I was bigger than her, capable of defending myself. Though she had grown up to be tall and strong, imposing, and proud, she was no less a bully.

Besides, it’s not like we were actual friends, or allies for that matter. She thought she was sneaky in the ways she tried to claim me, touching my shoulder, standing too close for comfort. But all I was to her was an accessory. Someone to make her look good. Well I wasn’t going to let that happen, I couldn't. I was my own person, and I wanted the Capitol to know it. Surely Brooke would try something at the interviews to gain favor, everyone would. I just had to make sure whatever I said would counteract whatever she’d said. I was slowly coming to understand that paying in the games meant more than just the arena. There was so much more to it, from training to the interviews and even the tribute parade. Even after the games, you were always on the stage.

My mother stiffened at Brooke’s words, but said nothing. It was no secret that my mother didn’t like Brooke very much. Brooke was my childhood bully, after all. My mother had spent my childhood soothing away the damage done by the likes of Brooke. But my mother was a mentor. She had to treat us both fairly. Either way, I knew she’d already worked out the details of Willow and my alliance with Katniss and Peeta. But this meant she’d also had to talk to the career group.

Truthfully I was impressed with her. She was working around her own personal constraints, such as the days when she went unresponsive. I knew she loved me, and I loved her for everything she’d done for me. But sometimes I wondered if she was pushing herself too hard. It scared me, because what if she pushed too hard and she lost herself? What would I do without my mother? She was all I had left. And even worse… what would she do if she lost me?

Suddenly emotional, I stood up. Brooke frowned at me, questioning. My mother looked equally confused.

“I’m really tired, and we have the interviews tomorrow. I’m going to get some sleep,” I said, slowly walking towards my mother. I wrapped her in a tight hug, which she returned hesitantly, as if she knew something was up. But I couldn’t tell her my fears, it would send her into a spiral, or worse. I loved her, and she could support me in most things, but not this. Instead I dropped a kiss on the top of her head and strode towards my bedroom. Only when the door was locked did I let my head hang low. I was fully prepared to spend another sleepless night tossing and turning, but after a quick shower, I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next morning was calm, peaceful. But the afternoon began with a flurry of Capitol stylists bursting into our rooms. I was dragged from my quiet morning and into a loud central room where the stylists discussed interview outfits and personal preference. While I asked for something subtle, Brooke quickly shot down my ideas in favor of flashy and expensive looking material. I withheld a sigh and just let it happen. There was nothing I could do anyways.

I found myself several hours later, standing in front of a mirror. I looked, admittedly, not bad. The stylists at least had listened to my preferences for my own outfit. And so I had been given an ocean blue jacket trimmed with white silk. Apparently shirts weren’t required, and the stylists had decided to leave the jacket half open. Every time I self consciously tried to do another button my hand was swatted away.

The jacket itself was rather plain. There was however a stylized fishing hook, complete with a gull's down feathers, which had been hung around my neck. The pants matched the jacket well enough, but I couldn’t help noticing that there were little flecks of white glitter everywhere. I wondered if someone had spilled some.

Thankfully my face had been left mostly alone. Only stage makeup had been applied. But I couldn’t count the amount of times they’d told me I looked like my father. Finnick Odair, the man I’d never met. I just hoped I could live up to his reputation.

“Ah, stunning,” my stylist fawned over me once more. I caught sight of my mother in the reflection, her hands gripped tightly to her chest. She didn’t look upset, no, she looked like she was remembering. How unfair it was, that everyone else had gotten to know my father, but I never had. I bit down on a bitter grunt. These thoughts were not going to help me face the interview.

I met Brooke back in the central room. Her outfit was certainly covered in glitter, and I wondered absentmindedly if it was her glitter that had gotten on my pants. Her dress swooped down from one shoulder, mimicking a very sparkly waterfall which fell to the floor, a slit in one side up to her hip. Her short hair had been cleaned up, no longer uneven. A little clip held her hair back from her face, but without several more inches, there wasn’t much she could do with it.

“Now, the interviews start in fifteen minutes,” our escort tittered. “You both look gorgeous. Finn stop fidgeting with your buttons.” I lowered my hand once more from where I’d been closing the jacket unconsciously. It was almost as bad as the toga for the tribute parade, exposing my abdomen to just above my belly button.

“Come on people, let’s get moving,” she said once more, ushering us to the elevator. Thea was a short woman, constantly wearing platform heels to gain height. She sported a pixie cut which changed colors throughout the day. I wasn’t exactly sure how.

“Finn.” I turned at the voice behind me. My mother stood facing me, her eyes watering. She looked sad, but there was something else there too. She placed the palms of her hands on the sides of my face, searching my eyes.

“You’d make him proud.” I pulled her in for a hug. My mother barely spoke about my father. It was too hard for her. But I’d grown up hearing stories about him, his looks, his attitude, his bravery. And when I’d gotten older it had always been how much I looked like him. Especially recently with the Capitol’s attention on me. My mother hadn’t explained exactly what my father had done in the Capitol, why everyone seemed so obsessed with him. It had been the subject of much talk during my school years. There had been times that I’d hated him, for doing that to my mother, for allowing himself to be sold. For keeping my mother a secret. But I understood now. He didn’t have a choice, and neither did I.

“Come on, we’re going to be late!” Screeched our escort from the elevator. I hugged my mother tightly before letting go.

“I love you, mom.” How many more times would I get to say that?

My mother followed me into the elevator, her face slipping between despair and tranquility. She was trying to keep herself together in front of the Capitol. Everyone already said she had gone mad, she didn’t need to remind them. And I didn’t want her to have to face the stares like the one Brooke was giving her. Halfway between disgust and concern. I stepped in front of her, blocking her from Brooke.

We arrived backstage to find everyone else already there. Brooke and I were rushed past everyone to the fourth spot. Of course, I would be going after her, which meant I had seven interviews to sit through. I felt bad for those at the end, Districts Twelve and Thirteen.

Curiously, I searched for Willow. I was taller than most people here, but Willow was also short, and therefore hard to spot. When I finally did I was almost startled by how Aster was glaring at her. Had something happened? We weren’t supposed to leave the line, so I silently promised to ask her about it later. If there was a later for either of us. Tomorrow morning we would be dropped into the arena, and then everything was up in the air.

Either way, I caught her eye and gave her a wink. She just rolled her eyes before turning away, but I was rewarded with the little smile on her face. The knowledge that I was the one to make her smile gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.

Thankfully each interview only took five minutes, and soon enough I was watching Brooke giggle and try to gain favor with the audience. She went on and on about how we were old friends, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. Obviously she was playing at an angle, but which one I couldn’t figure out. I found my mind drifting, Brooke's words flowing past my ears and not registering whatsoever. She twirled her hair when Caesar asked if she had someone special at home, and I wanted to gag. I tuned out the rest of her interview on purpose after that, focusing on slowing my racing pulse.

And finally she was walking offstage, her steps even and confident. I suppressed the urge to glare blatantly. Besides, it was time to go and pretend to be the charming, cocky rascal the Capitol knew. My palms were sweaty, my breathing coming fast. But now was decidedly not the time to be nervous.

“You got this,” said our escort, placing a small hand on my shoulder. My mother gave me a single nod from where she rested along the wall.

“Finn Odair, everybody!” Caesar exclaimed, extending his arm as I strutted onstage. Of course internally I was absolutely panicking, every thought a whirl of confusion. I gave an easy wave to the audience paired with a cheeky smile. I was rewarded when the crowd exploded with cheers. Their outfits were as ridiculous as always, their faces painted in strange ways.

Caesar gestured for me to sit down, and I did so, trying to emulate confidence as I did it. Crossing one ankle over the top of my knee, I turned to Caesar, my grin still in place. The drowning cheers slowly faded as Caesar chuckled.

“So, Finn, I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you look just like your father.” The crowd tittered and I shook my head, letting my hair spring free of the careful style my stylist had decided on.

“Personally I think I look exactly like my mother,” I joked, sending a conspiratory glance at the audience. “It’s in the eyes,” I said, pointing to my face and widening my eyes comically. Caesar leaned closer, as if taking a good look. Then he gasped loudly.

“Why, he’s right!” The crowd broke out into laughter as Caesar and I resumed our previous positions. For a moment Caesar looked very tired, the lines in his face deep and numerous. But then he was back, adjusting his bright green bow tie.

“So, what about that training score? Do you think you’ve got a pretty good chance of winning these games?” There were a few shouts from the crowd, screaming that of course I would win. I put on a show of laughing and nodding.

“I do, I think I have a great chance. And you know, I have something to fight for,” I said, flooding my voice with emotion. “I have to come back to my mother, she needs me.” The audience sighed, even Caesar looked touched. Which was perfect, I had to play on their sympathy, it would get me more sponsors.

“Of course, of course,” Caesar gave me that look I hated, the look full of sympathy and sorrow. Because it wasn’t for me, it was for my father, who I’d never met. It wasn’t as if I could miss him. I felt his absence, but I hadn’t known him. It hurt, but in a different way.

“So can I assume you’re just as skilled with a trident?” He asked, going right back to his peppy attitude. It was something Caesar was incredibly gifted in, switching between emotions quicker than I could blink. Half the time I wondered if he simply faked it, if he was acting just as much as I was.

“Well, I can’t say too much, but…” I glanced around, as if pretending to look for someone hiding somewhere on stage to listen to my secrets. “I can use a trident, and I think you’ll all be pleasantly surprised with my skill,” I confirmed. Much to the glee of the audience. Cheers rung out, promising support, shouting my father’s name. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief. This was to earn sponsors, and it was working.

“Wonderful! I’m sure you’re going to give us a grand show,” Caesar clapped, his smile broad and toothy. “But there’s just one thing I must ask before you go.” His tone dropped to something softer. Whatever he was about to ask, it was going to be emotional. I steeled myself, expecting more questions about my father, or my mother, or perhaps even the war itself.

“Word on the street is, you and a certain lady have gotten pretty close.” My heart plummeted. How had they possibly found out Willow and I had been plotting together. I wanted to curse my own stupidity, of course they had cameras in the training room. Probably one hidden in the very spot Willow liked to hide.

“Care to tell us about that?” The audience cheered, whistles ringing through the air. I was frozen for a moment. But I didn’t have time to waste. What could I say? Something to gain both of us sponsors perhaps, but also to keep the other careers off our backs.

“Well, our parents knew each other, so it was kind of like meeting an old friend,” I said. The crowd awed, and I knew exactly what was happening. They were trying to make me into a love interest. Someone to provide a new level of entertainment. It didn't happen every game, but it was common enough. Internally I wanted to scream, tell them to look at me and not who they thought I was, but externally I only smiled. “The other thing is, Willow isn't the most-” Caesar cut me off with a hand.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Confused, I regarded him with suspicion. Caesar seemed disbelieving. “You weren’t talking about Brooke Janus?” Now things were bad. Had Brooke painted our nonexistent relationship that way? Shit. Only then I recalled what she’d said not five minutes ago, about us being old friends.

“Oh, I-” What was I supposed to say? It seemed as if everything had gone to shit. My face was bright red and the crowd was going wild. Caesar was laughing, and Brooke was about to murder me. Probably Willow too. Great.

“But do go on, tell us about your relationship with Willow Mellark,” Caesar said, a bright smile playing across his face. I was so screwed. I would be lucky if Brooke waited for the arena to murder me, and now Willow was going to stab me the moment she saw me. Not to mention the careers were going to slaughter us. Unless… I had a plan. It was a terrible plan, and it required some good acting on my part, but perhaps I could pull it off. Make myself seem as harmless as a boy with a crush on the star-studded girl from Twelve. No threat whatsoever.

“Well, I first talked to her because our parents know each other, and Willow didn’t seem like the worst person to talk to. So I did,” I shrugged, trying to rub it in that I was shy about this subject. Paired with my still present blush, I hoped it would do the trick. “I knew she was really gifted with a bow, and I thought she might make a good ally. I think I was right, anyways.” I wasn’t going to outright say anything, especially if Willow was already angry with me. But I had already done so much damage. I was going to pay for it too.

“Wow.” Caesar shook his green topped head, astonished. “Our time is up, even though I’d love to hear more,” he beamed, gazing out as the crowd shouted in agreement. “Finn Odair!” The crowd screamed louder, cheering for me. What could I do besides smile and wave. I gave a quick bow with a flourish of my trembling hands before heading off the stage, and likely towards my death. 

Chapter 14: Chapter 13- Fatal Mistakes II

Willow

The second Finn stepped offstage, Brooke was on him, screeching at him with her voice like a flock of angry bluejays about how he’d screwed up her plan. Their plan. I just stared. Of course I’d seen what had happened, what he’d said. Surely it had been a simple mistake. I had been seen with Finn much more than Brooke had, it was easy to slip up. But then she had set it up perfectly in her interview, talking all about how they were good friends. The portrait of childhood friends turning into something more was skillful, smart. I had almost believed it too, something like jealousy curling in my gut, unbidden and unwanted.

That was until Finn said my name.

Brooke was forcibly removed from the room, her stylist’s arm draped over her shoulders in a grip I imagined closer to a vise than a comfort. Finn had hung his head and turned to his mother. His distress was evident in the tense set of his shoulders. Annie pulled him into a hug, and I had to look away from their moment.

My father placed a hand on my black clad shoulder, turning me to face him. Uh oh, this was surely going to be a ‘talk.’ I could see it in his eyes, the same shade as mine. I didn’t want to suffer through this embarrassment here.

“Willow, listen,” he started, speaking in a hushed tone. “You need to back up everything he said.” What? That was certainly not what I expected. He must’ve seen the surprise on my face because he cracked a small smile.

“You two are allies, and romance gains sponsors. Trust me, I know,” he cast a strange look to my mother, who was busy talking with my stylist. They had been virtually inseparable since they’d met. I was happy my mom had a friend, she had so few.

I was absolutely shocked by what my father was telling me to do. I’d thought for sure he was going to make some empty threat (empty because we’d both more than likely be dead soon) against Finn.

“You want me to…” I thought back to training. Sure Finn and I had planned together, but that was all. We’d sat on a dark ledge together, and sometimes I blushed when he smiled—his dimples and tanned freckles were too distracting not to—but that couldn’t possibly mean anything. My feelings were already muddled enough with the fact we’d soon be at each other’s throats, and now I had to pretend to- “You want me to play it up?”

“It’s whatever you’re comfortable with,” my father said firmly. I nodded. I didn’t have a choice, my own confusing emotions be damned. Finn and I were allies. And even if the cannon hadn’t gone off yet, we were in the games.

I turned away from my father for a moment, thinking. I happened to catch Finn’s eye. He mouthed the word ‘sorry,’ but I just shrugged. We did need to work out a new game plan though. I raised my finger, pointing up as I mouthed to meet me on the roof. He nodded, then went back to his mother and followed Brooke’s retreat, calling something after her. I ignored the way he brushed a hand down her arm, comforting and appeasing. He was likely trying to keep his position in the career pack stable. As stable as it could be, anyways.

I spent the rest of the time before my interview figuring out what to say. I picked at my dress, flicked away imaginary lint. Aster glared around us, sullen, and I watched the little white jewels on my dress sparkle in the light. Cannelle had told me to spin when I could. I only wondered what it could do. Burst into flames? Or something else? The flame bit was overdone, in my opinion. Even if it was about to be burned away entirely, it was overall a beautiful dress. Black fabric made up the bodice and the skirt, which flared out at my waist. It hung to my knees, and a little further in the back. The entire thing was inlaid with little diamonds, and the sleeves were made up of a sheer fabric, and cut off at my elbows. The neckline swooped all the way down to reveal the tops of my breasts, and then dipped further in the rear, leaving my back exposed.

If I spun and burst into flames, would Snow kill me? Well she was already going to try, but would she try harder?

“Willow Mellark!” Time had gone by so quickly, and I stepped up to the stage, casting one glance behind me. My parents stood together, linked by their hands. Finn had disappeared and Velour was watching me closely from the back wall. I shuddered involuntarily and turned away. Everyone was watching me.

I stepped into the white lights of the stage, squinting out at the audience. It was so loud out here, so bright. Resisting the urge to run and hide, I smiled at the audience shyly, waving my hand a little. All I had to do was keep up my act, cool, calm and collected. Thankfully Caesar offered his hand to help me forward. I took it gratefully, surprised at how leathery his skin felt. It was true he had to be nearing his seventies now, but he didn’t look much older than forty.

As we took our seats, Caesar looked from me to the audience, as if everyone but me was in on a secret. I just ducked my head nervously, staring at my hands in my lap.

“So, Willow, we had a young man up here earlier who said you two had gotten pretty close during training. I’m sure all of us would love to hear about that from your perspective.” The crowd burst out into cheers as Caesar chuckled, adjusting his green bow tie. I was already blushing, I knew that much, but when I raised my eyes to the audience I tried to look as bashful as possible.

“Ah,” I giggled. “We did get to know each other a bit. Finn’s family and mine go way back so it was easy to find… common ground,” I admitted, as if this was some big secret.

Caesar nodded to the audience, obviously trying to play up how shy I was being about it. But we only had five minutes, and I was glad when he changed the subject. “Now your mother was up here about twenty years ago, and her dress was simply stunning, it caught on fire! Am I to assume yours does something similar?” I nodded enthusiastically and got to my feet.

“I’m not sure what yet, but I know it does something,” I beamed to the crowd, prepared to spin for them. Caesar stood up too. Exclaiming into the microphone, “give us a twirl!”

Without further prompting I began to spin. I didn’t feel or see anything, I was focused on spinning, but the audience gasped. Finally I slowed, watching as smoke rolled off my dress in waves. The dress was largely unaltered, but now the little gems had given way to larger veins of sparkling diamonds, running thinly about the dress. And some sort of smoke was drifting from each vein. Abruptly I remembered something my mother had asked a long time ago. What comes after the girl on fire? Smoke.

The audience was going wild, cheers and applause ringing through the air as Caesar tried to calm them down.

“Now, now.” He held a hand out to the audience, shushing them. “Let’s talk about that training score. A twelve! Pretty amazing. Do you think you’re someone to look out for in the arena?”

Ah. There it was. The question that could save me. I simply shrugged, gazing at the cameras innocently. “I like to think so. Obviously I gave it my all during training.” No one but Aster has ever seen me train with a bow. If I implied I’d shown everything I could do during training, perhaps the careers would stay off my back, and the other tributes would underestimate me.

Caesar nodded in understanding, then gave a round of applause. Before focusing on me again. “So, I have one last question for you,” he lowered his voice, reaching out to clasp my hand. Great, this meant we were getting to the emotional part of the interview.

“You have two little siblings, Rye and Anemone. Am I correct?” I nodded my head yes, wondering where exactly this was going. “Now they’re probably watching this aren’t they?” I nodded once more. I had almost forgotten that they would be watching my progress in the games. All the more reason that I had to live. Anemone was so young, if she saw me die, if Rye saw me die, what would that do to them?

“If they were right here, what would you say to them?” I thought for a moment. What would I say to them? There was no point in lying to the Capitol. And it would be almost as if I was saying it to them in person.

Finally I took a deep breath, staring directly at the cameras. “Rye, Anemone, I just want to remind you that I love you both. I’m going to be home soon, and we’ll make raspberry pie. And I’ll read to you again Anemone, just like I used to. So don’t be scared, whatever you see,” I finished, holding back from wiping away the tears that were forming in my eyes. I didn’t want to smudge the dark makeup that had been meticulously applied around my eyes, so I just made a show of holding them back.

Caesar looked at the audience with a pout. “Well isn’t that sweet.” The audience cooed, and echoes of the words ‘how precious’ and ‘such a shame’ could be heard through the air.

“You know, when you win I’d love to sample some of that raspberry pie, doesn’t it sound delicious?” He exclaimed, whipping his head towards the audience, no doubt trying to lighten the mood. The audience broke out into laughter, and I feigned laughing along.

“Of course Caesar,” I nodded. He held up my hand as I rose from my seat.

“Willow Mellark everyone!” The crowd cheered me offstage, where I was met by Sappho.

“You did wonderfully, truly, good job,” she smiled, her voice full of emotion. I turned to smile at her in thanks and she squeezed my shoulder. I watched as she went back to Aster and helped him up to the stage. He was visibly frightened as he walked up, but relaxed as soon as Caesar introduced him.

“Willow,” my mother called, pulling me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in her familiar scent. It was indescribable but completely unique and comforting. And then my father was there too, and for a moment I was five years old again, running through the fields behind our house and laughing. My father chasing after me, my mother with little Rye. Back when everything was alright. But we slowly broke apart, and I knew nothing was going to be okay again. This was one of the last times I’d see my parents. But I had to be strong now. I couldn’t crack. Especially not with Iona smirking at us, and Ivor watching with that condescending look. No, it was time for me to go.

“You’re going to get plenty of sponsors,” my mother assured, wrapping me with her arm. I was pressed into her side as I nodded, watching the screen once more.

“You did a good job, Willow,” said my father, standing on my other side. How nice it was to have my parents here. At least they wouldn’t be so far away when I went into the arena. At least I still had a few moments with them. But we all knew it was coming. Tomorrow morning I would be torn from their embrace and shoved into an arena where I had a one in twenty-six chance of making it out alive.

A loud cheer erupted from the screen, and I watched as Caesar laughed uncontrollably in his chair. Aster beamed out at the audience, his red hair which had been gelled back now falling in his face.

“So you can run really fast, you're very clever, and you can set traps, and that’s what gives you such good chances?” Caesar chuckled good-naturedly while Aster nodded, all confidence. Suddenly I wondered if his whole shyness act had been fake. Had he been trying to get me to underestimate him? If so, he was quite a good actor. And lucky I had seen through it before being thrown into the arena with him.

“And what do you think of the competition?” Aster placed his finger on his jaw, thinking. The audience hung in suspense, Caesar was literally on the edge of his seat. I wanted to scoff, it wasn’t even an important question.

“I think there are others who stand a good chance, but they haven’t met the real me,” he said, his childlike face taken over by a goofy grin. Of course, he was playing the cocky innocent angle. I wondered absentmindedly if my parents had helped him with that. They were technically his mentors too. I couldn’t fault him for wanting to survive, we all did.

Either way, the audience was eating it up. As he finished up his interview, I could tell he was going to get just as many sponsors as I was. If I’d get any that was, perhaps they’d all prefer to send their gifts to him.

The way back to our rooms was quiet except for the few muttered praises from my parents and Sappho. And then finally I was scrubbing off the makeup and slipping out of the dress. I was going to crawl under the covers and simply go to sleep before remembering I had to meet Finn. And no doubt there were cameras on the roof, which meant I had to put pants on.

I slid on a soft pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. It was still summer of course, and I didn’t care too much for the heat. Then I stepped from my room. My parents were still up of course, but it would be too difficult to explain exactly what I was doing. And if this was the last night I would ever spend with them, didn’t I want to spend it here?

Slowly I strode into the living room where my parents were discussing something in hushed tones. I cleared my throat and they both turned to look at me. Identical looks of distress crossed their faces. It was clear my father had been crying.

“I said I’d meet Finn to discuss a final strategy for tomorrow,” I whispered. Nothing suspicious about that. And yet my father narrowed his red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll hurry back, and then maybe we could… eat a pie?” I tried for a joke, but my voice cracked. Before I could move, I felt my father’s arms around me.

“Be safe, there will be pie will be waiting when you get back.” I almost broke down into tears right there, but I had to be strong a little longer. So I nodded against his chest, promising to be back soon. Promising I would try. And then I left. 

Notes:

Thank you so so much to everyone who is keeping up with this story! This time next week we will be in the arena and the story will truly kick off. In the mean time, happy Friday!

Chapter 15: Chapter 14- The Roof

Willow

The air was colder than I had predicted, and as I stepped onto the roof, I shivered a little. Goosebumps raised along my arms and the back of my neck. I was starting to wish I’d brought a sweater. And I didn’t see Finn. Had he forgotten?

I walked fully onto the roof, taking in the skyline which expanded in every direction. Skyscrapers which only seemed to get taller every year glistened. Wealth practically dripped from every facet of every building, it was in the way the windows glimmered, in each building which had a collection of different crystalline colors, in every surface coated in marble or gold. But that was the Capitol. Even from all the way up here I could hear the cheers of the citizens celebrating the start of the games.

The roof itself was vast, spanning at least seventy feet in each direction. There was a little garden with various flowers, and little decorations. Benches were scattered about, and there was even a little fountain which burbled at the center of the garden. Stretched canvas attached to several poles prevented the garden from getting too hot during the day. As I got closer, I wondered who came here when the tributes didn’t. It was well maintained.

I still didn’t see Finn, so instead I walked the perimeter of the roof, looking out at the city beneath me. My view was partially obstructed by a net, and a not so hidden force field. No doubt these were in place to keep the tributes in rather than to keep anyone from falling off. But still, it made me feel more comfortable as I hopped up onto the ledge and began to walk. I could feel the narrow strip of raised concrete between me and the net under my bare feet. I carried my shoes.

I had just rounded another corner when I saw him. He was lying on his back, staring up at the sky with his legs hanging over the edge. No wonder I’d missed him before, I wouldn’t have been able to see him behind the gardens.

I slowed as I approached him, regarding him with caution. He didn’t seem to notice me until I sat next to him. He startled a little before drawing himself into a sitting position.

“I didn’t even hear you coming, how long have you been here?” He asked. I just shrugged. It was the years of hunting which had gifted me with the ability to move about quietly.

“I’ve been here maybe ten minutes. You?”

“Forty-five, but don’t worry,” he said hurriedly, running a hand through his tousled hair. I watched him shove his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt with envy. It was cold up here, especially with the breeze beginning to run through my hair.

“So we need a new strategy,” I started, tucking my knees to my chest. Absentmindedly I wondered if it would be warmer in the arena, or perhaps even colder. Either way, I would find out tomorrow morning.

My stomach plummeted.

“We do. Everyone already thinks we’re…” he gestured between us before he cleared his throat, pointedly looking away from me. Really, I wanted to laugh. Of course Finn had far better options than me, he was good looking, sweet—well most of the time—and he could use a trident. And yet for some reason, the Capitol decided to make something out of nothing. Because it was nothing, wasn’t it?

“They just want us for entertainment. But let’s not give it to them,” I said, shrugging. “We set boundaries, agree on things not to do.” I didn’t want to give the Capitol the satisfaction. Even more so, I needed more time to figure out my own emotions. Not that we had much of it. Finn confused me more than anyone else in the past had.

“Like what?” He snorted. “Don’t stand too close to each other? Don’t speak?” For a moment I couldn’t tell if he was upset or just being difficult.

“Well yeah. I don’t want to give the Capitol that satisfaction,” I replied, not hesitating to add a little snark in my voice.

“You don’t want to give the Capitol the satisfaction of seeing us be friends?”

I glared at him pointedly. That's not what I’d meant and he knew it. But why was he being so obstinate. Acting as if I’d hurt his feelings.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t like you. It’s that the Capitol is going to manipulate everything we do,” I sighed, pulling my knees even closer to my chest. For some reason this conversation was making me upset. I didn’t want to distance myself from Finn, but it was necessary. I also didn’t want to have everyone watching every move we made, analyzing us from afar. That made me even more uncomfortable.

“So you like me?” he asked with a cheeky grin. Despite myself a smile turned the corners of my mouth. I tapped his cheek, turning his face away. But that wasn’t the point, he was trying to distract me, and it was working. I quickly scowled.

“Not in front of the Capitol. We don’t like each other, we’re just using each other,” I said firmly, nodding once.

“Well what if-” he cut himself off before turning away. Why was he being so difficult? It was a matter of privacy wasn’t it? I didn’t want to pretend like my parents had had to, at least in the beginning. I knew their story, Finn knew their story. The Capitol probably just wanted that extra element to the games, and they were using Finn, and Brooke, and me.

“Fine. It’s settled. We’ll keep boundaries. No touching apart from what is strictly necessary. No… I don’t know,” he said softly after a long silence. “Can we talk about something other than strategy?” There was something fundamentally sad about the way he turned to look at me. In the dim lighting I had the sudden urge to pull him closer, run my hands through his light brown curls.

“What else is there to talk about when we might die tomorrow?” I snorted before flopping backwards, throwing an arm over my face to hide the blush creeping on my cheeks. “Fine, ask me anything. But I can’t stay too long.” I felt more than heard Finn lie back down next to me. He was close enough that I could feel the fabric of his sweatshirt. The heat radiating from his body only served to increase the goosebumps on my arms, and I brought my arms down to strategically over my chest. Again I cursed myself, why hadn’t I brought a sweatshirt?

“So, what would you be doing if you weren’t here?” He asked. When I removed my arm to peek at him, I found him staring up at the sky once more. The stars weren’t very visible here, not with all the city lights. But in the darkness, little lights were reflected on his eyes, turning the sea green into a myriad of darker colors. His eyelashes glowed softly in these city lights.

“Eating pie,” I whispered, turning slowly away and looking towards the sky. Purples and blues so dark crossed against the sky. Little grey outlines of the clouds floated above. I wondered if this was the last time I’d see the night sky. The real night sky. “What about you?”

Finn chuckled. “I’d be doing this, on a board in the ocean,” he sounded like he was far away, lost in his own world. I envied him, being able to see the ocean every day, having memories of it.

“What’s it like? The ocean,” I clarified, blinking up at the sky. Finn sat up abruptly, leaning on one arm. He stared down at me incredulously. I sat up too, shivering once more as the cold bit into my skin.

“You’ve never seen the ocean?” He sounded surprised. "No, of course you wouldn't..." I shook my head in contribution. I had never gotten to go anywhere but the Capitol and once to Two. I had been begging to go to Four since my fourteenth birthday, but it was impossible with the lack of inter-district contact. “It’s beautiful. There’s so much blue, and it goes on forever. There are fish, sharks, and turtles. And waves that can knock you off your boat,” he added with a laugh. I smiled, it sounded like he loved it there.

“I’d like to see it,” I sighed, pulling my arms tighter around myself. Finn stilled for a moment, considering something. Then he tugged off his sweatshirt, revealing a long sleeved shirt underneath. I tried not to look as it tugged up with the motion of him reaching over his head to get the sweater off. But I caught sight of evenly tanned skin sitting just beneath, and lower… As my cheeks reddened I turned pointedly towards the city.

“Are you cold? I’m a little warm,” he said, offering me the sweatshirt. I didn’t necessarily want his sweatshirt, but I was cold, so I just nodded, slipping it on over my head. Immediately I was enveloped by his scent, the salty smell of the sea and whatever citrusy soap he used. I tried not to be so obvious about breathing it in, so I just uttered a thank you before lying back down. Now properly shielded against the cold, I simply watched the clouds float past.

Finn and I lay together on the roof in silence for a while, each of us lost in our own worlds. It wasn’t until a good forty minutes later, when a bell tolled, that I sat bolt upright. I forgot I had to eat pie with my parents, our own goodbye.

“I have to go, my parents are waiting up for me,” I said hurriedly, scrambling to my feet. Finn looked surprised for a moment before nodding, standing with me. I was turning to leave when I felt a hand on my arm. Finn stood, looking conflicted. I cocked my head, frowning.

“My sw- I mean-“ he paused, thought better of whatever he was going to say, and cocked his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep.” I nodded, pulling his hand from my arm and giving a squeeze before I released it.

“You too,” I said softly before heading to the elevator. It was only after I was back on my floor that I realized I was still wearing his sweatshirt. I hoped that wouldn’t raise any questions with my parents. Just in case I tugged it over my head, folding it over an arm.

I arrived back in the apartment area to find my mother and father, talking at the kitchen counter. The clock on the stove read one in the morning. So I had been gone awhile. The kitchen connected directly to the living room, but the lights were only on above the counter. It was a large open space, and the smell of baking pie filled the air. Stools circled the island, and I quietly sat on one, clearing my throat to announce my presence.

“Willow,” my father startled. My mother just smiled. She had probably known I was there anyways, though her eyes were red rimmed and wet. As they both wrapped me in a hug, I sighed. One of the last hugs- or I hoped it wasn't.

“How was…” my father trailed off, pulling back to examine the sweatshirt I held over one arm. Undoubtedly he had noticed the four embroidered on the sleeve. He cleared his throat, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “How was strategizing?” My mother swatted his arm, her own face twisted into some knowing look, grave as it was. My father chuckled and went to pull the pie from the oven while I tried to get my reddening face under control.

My mother took the seat next to me, looking at me with a searching look. She looked older than I remembered. Her hair seemed longer than I remembered, and the wrinkles in her face deeper. When had I stopped paying attention to the minute details of her face? She was still beautiful, probably always would be. She was more gorgeous than I would ever be, poised and confident. And yet there were circles in purple and blue beneath her eyes.

“It was fine, we decided on how to behave for the cameras.” My mother nodded in understanding, her face suddenly turning serious. My father returned with the pie, placing it in front of us carefully. They both knew what I was alluding to, but for some reason I didn’t want to explain myself to them. I didn’t want to talk about my own feelings, which my father would no doubt ask if I was being true to. The truth was I didn’t know. And I would never get a chance to explore them.

“Well at least you two talked about a plan,” my father said with a pointed look to my mother. My mother rolled her eyes. “At least I didn’t first admit to having a crush on national television the night before we were supposed to kill each other,” she shot back, crossing her arms. I giggled, nagging a fork from the counter and digging into the pie without waiting.

“Woah! I wasn’t the one who attacked you for admitting to having a crush!” My father said, also crossing his arms. This type of banter was normal for them, and it was comforting for me to hear that now, long afterwards, they could joke about it. For a moment it was almost as if this were just another late night at our home in Twelve.

“Oh, real mature. And you said you were over that,” my mother huffed, tossing her hair. My father chuckled. “And by the way your daughter is eating all of our pie,” she said with a sly look in my direction. My father shook his head, snatching a fork before swatting mine away and stealing the piece I had been going for.

“She’s your daughter, too.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed, reaching back for more pie. By now my mother had picked up a fork, and it was all out war over the pie. It had been a while since we’d had a pie fight, the last time had been Rye’s birthday. We’d all gathered around the table like we were now. In the beginning it had started as civilized pie eating, but it had quickly dissolved into chaos when Anemone had plunged her entire hand into the pie and taken a bite, spilling raspberry all over herself.

I smiled at the memory, slowing down. I was getting tired, and full. And tomorrow began the fight for my life, so I set my fork down. My parents got the hint and stopped as well.

“Go get some sleep Willow,” said my mother, pulling me in for a hug. My father circled around to join us, pressing a kiss on my forehead. I pulled away slowly, and lingered for a moment.

“I love you, thanks for the pie,” I said softly. My mother gave a sad smile as my father looked on the verge of tears.

“We love you too,” echoed my mother, reaching for my father.

“Come back to us,” my father whispered, uncharacteristically solemn. And then I left them, holding each other in the dark. I padded to my room and collapsed into bed, replaying the events of the day. For some reason my mind seemed caught on my time on the roof with Finn, and I fell asleep dreaming of the ocean.

Notes:

I know I said I was going to keep to an update schedule, but I'm on holiday till Wednesday next week, so I'm posting this now instead of Tuesday. The twelve of you who read this are very welcome :) Thanks for reading!

Chapter 16: Chapter 15- At Long Last

Notes:

You guys would not believe what it took to get this uploaded haha! I don't have wifi OR cellular currently, so I am using a random government wifi from nearby! Hopefully they don't mind. Anyways, we're in the arena, enjoy!!

“Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What's down in the dark will be brought to the light
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down.”
—Johnny Cash

Willow

I was ripped from my bed at dawn. The beautiful orange of the sunrise filtered through the windows as Peacekeepers flooded the floor. Dragged to the living room, I watched as we were joined by my parents. They too had been snatched from bed. This could only mean that it was time to say goodbye. I flung myself into their arms, trying to hide from the fact that I could be dead in a matter of hours. It seemed too short, a brief press of their hands on my back and arms, lingering warmth, and I was being held by Peacekeepers once more. Aster was there too, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

“I love you Willow,” my father said, his voice filled with despair. My mother seemed more composed, but I recognized the look on her face. It was the look she wore when she was hiding her emotions. “Remember who the real enemy is,” she whispered, raising her hand to reach for me one last time. With a final grasping of my hand she pressed something warm into my palm. I lunged forwards, trying to grip her hand, to grip my mother, one final time. The peacekeeper yanked me back by my arm and I gave a little cry. The rest was foggy, already distant like an old memory. There had been screaming, and crying, and my eyes were red rimmed and puffy now.

I stood, dressed in the arena outfit, examining the fabric. It was lightweight, and stuck to my skin. The shoes were little more than thick fabric coverings with rubber soles. Which made me think the arena would have water or be something tropical; except it had been paired with a lined jacket. The pants clung to my skin, black and grey, with thin but stretchy pockets at each hip. The shirt too, hugged my curves, stretching across my breasts comfortably and revealing the outline of the sports bra I had been issued, which felt more like a swimsuit than a bra. But with the warm jacket I was at a loss. What kind of arena was this?

The object my mother had given to me was her pin, now secured behind the lapel of my jacket. The mockingjay glittered gold, and I toyed with the beak.

“What are you thinking?” Canelle asked, coming up behind me. She had tied her black hair into a ponytail, curls sprouting from the back of her head. She looked as though she’d been dusted with bronze that morning, the dark metal seemed to be sprinkled throughout her hair and her skin.

I shrugged. “Trying to figure out what type of arena it is.” There was no use in lying to her. Canelle seemed to dislike the Capitol as much as my mother, and I found myself trusting her more than I probably should.

“Definitely water. Hope you know how to swim,” she said lightly. I knew she was trying to distract me from my impending doom, and I appreciated it.

“My mom taught me,” I nodded, smoothing down the fabric of the jacket. It was synthetic material, possibly lined with wool. It spelled cold temperatures. So perhaps a freezing ocean? A glacial ocean arena? I sighed, giving up my musings for the moment.

“Try to eat something,” Canelle said, guiding me over to the table. My stomach growled, I hadn’t eaten breakfast. But the thought of food before I would have to step into that glass tube made me want to throw up. Then again there wasn’t a guarantee that I would eat ever again. So I sunk into the seat and forced myself to nibble on a piece of toast. I did manage to down several glasses of water. As my mother had told me, dehydration kills.

It wasn’t long before a buzzing filled the air. Canelle looked at me with reserved concern, one eyebrow raised slightly. Her eyes drifted to the door, and I knew.

It was time.

I stepped up onto the circular podium, waiting for the tube to slide around me, trapping me in the arena. Canelle looked like she wanted to say something else, but the tube slid shut before she could. Instead she placed her hand on the glass wall separating us. I did the same, imagining I could feel the warmth of her hand through the thick barrier. I closed my eyes for several seconds before the platform gave a lurch.

My eyes flew open as I watched a hole open in the ceiling. The light was muted, but still bright, and I blinked as the tube went up. It was a slow ascent, but no less jarring, and I had to focus on breathing.

Soon enough I was standing in the open, listening to the countdown in the arena. I had to blink several times before my eyes adjusted to the light.

Water expanded in every direction, except it was muddy, brown, and clouded. Giant trees circled the clearing, their roots rising from the depths of the water. The only dry land in sight was the cornucopia, which glimmered in the light. The silvery metal sported all of the usual goods. I caught sight of a bow on display, hanging on a rack. Of course, it was at the point furthest from me.

So I had to run, then.

The careers would kill me because I was useless to them here.

I looked around for Finn, unable to see him, I assumed he was on the far side. But this posed a unique issue, as I had no idea which direction to flee in. I did find Brooke, who had her body bent in half, ready to dive in. On my right Velour gave me a lazy smile. I shuddered and turned to my left. Ivor stood there, openly glaring at me. This was going to be great fun. I was probably going to die before I could swim to the cornucopia.

But if I could get there first…

A new plan formed in my mind, reckless and possibly deadly. But I couldn’t see Finn, had no idea where he would go to, or even if our plans still stood. So as far as I was concerned, all of our plans were null.

The countdown was on to single digits now, and I readied myself to dive. My mother had taught me to swim in a lake not far from our house. I couldn’t count how many days I’d spent there. I hoped those days were about to pay off, because the number flickered to a one.

At the sound of the cannon, I jumped. I felt my body arc through the air before feeling the water close around me. It was thick water, warmer than I was comfortable with, and there was debris floating around. I didn’t dare open my eyes under the water.  But I had to see where I was going. Pausing to look would cost me precious seconds, so I reared my head up and rapidly opened my eyes before ducking down and swimming like hell. The cornucopia lay dead ahead of me. But my eyes stung on contact with the water. Was it salt water? Knowing the game makers, probably.

There were a few desperate seconds where I thought I wasn’t going to make it, and my mother’s warning came back to me. Whatever you do, don’t go directly for the cornucopia unless you trust your allies. I didn’t trust District One and Two. I barely trusted Finn.

I pushed on, fighting my way through sludgy water.

The second my hand brushed stone, I surged up, reaching blindly for a handhold. I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, clearing the water from them. Hoisting myself up onto the island, I whipped my head around. Of course Finn and Brooke were already here. Finn had a trident in hand, and Brooke was violently shouting at him. It seemed there was only one. I sneakily snatched the bow, fastening a quiver of arrows round my back. I could still see Velour bobbing through the water, and Pearl on the other side, even closer. We had mere seconds.

“Finn!” I shouted, drawing an arrow. Brooke whipped around to look at me. There was a knife in her hand, aimed at Finn. He turned at my voice, and gave a single shake of his head. Now was not the time. But I aimed at her anyways. Finn lunged in front of her, reaching, to my surprise.

Betrayal burned through me, and I focused my bow towards Iona, who had previously escaped my notice. She was soaking wet, dripping and blinking furiously. The second she saw me with a bow, she jumped back into the water, swimming away.

Velour had arrived on shore, and he fixed me with a look that spelled trouble. He snatched the closest thing to him, a spear. Shit. Of course he had never intended to let me live. I grabbed a turquoise backpack, dropped the arrow, and dove to the left, skidding over rock. My shirt slipped up to my chest as the rock cut at my stomach. The spear embedded itself into the stone several inches from my face.

That would’ve killed me.

As I slipped into the water, I cursed myself for being so stupid. There was no way they could see me through all the murk, but I needed to swim fast, which was proving difficult with the backpack and the bow.

And Finn. What was he thinking? He’d been reaching for… for what? To protect Brooke? She was his district partner.

Either way, I fought through the sludge and the sting of betrayal, not surfacing until my lungs screamed for air. When I looked around, I was halfway between the trees and the cornucopia. Velour had his spear buried in someone’s body. I hoped it was Finn’s.

No…

I didn’t.

I had the bow, a quiver of arrows, and a backpack, so it wasn’t a complete failure. I went under again, swimming awkwardly until I felt something solid on my hand. When I gasped for air, I examined the tree root rising above me. It seemed easy enough to climb, rough and uneven. I eased my way onto it, feeling the strain on my stomach already. I hoped I hadn’t damaged anything. I perched on this little tree root, about a foot from the water. I probably should’ve gotten more distance between me and the cornucopia, but my stomach felt like it was on fire. I unzipped my jacket and pulled up my shirt, watching as little trickles of blood mixed with water dripping down my front.

It wasn’t much worse than a skinned knee. Just as if I’d slid on rock, which I had. It was going to hurt, but it wouldn’t kill me. The cuts were skin deep, only an issue if they got infected. Something I wasn’t going to let happen.

I turned my attention to the cornucopia again. Velour was scanning the trees with Pearl at his side. Brooke stood opposite them, regarding the water with a bored expression. The District One girl lay against the side, bleeding heavily from a gash in her head. I remembered her name, Ally. She and her District mate, Orion, had been closer than most others. He stood over her, a machete in hand. She looked responsive enough, so I doubted the head wound would kill her. But there was no sign of Finn, and for a moment I wondered if his was one of the bodies that littered the edges of the island.

I was about to shed a few tears for him when I saw him emerge from the cornucopia. He said something to Velour which made him laugh and then looked out into the trees. Of course this led me again to the worrisome question: had Finn truly betrayed me?

Deciding not to stick around and find out, I rose to my feet, examining the tree in front of me. There were several spots with knobs and knots which could make good holds. It was slow going, scaling a tree as massive as this one. But I finally reached the branches, and was surprised to see a whole new layer to the arena. The tree branches interwove and ran past each other. I could jump easily from tree to tree, and perhaps make it all the way around the arena without having to touch the water.

Birds chirped warnings as I walked along the branches of the trees. It was rather difficult to orient myself up here, the trees all began to look the same, and the water below never changed. There were other plants which grew out of the trees in places with more dirt. So far I had only recognized one type of plant, the common fern, which didn’t bode well for my survival skills here.

I was resting against the trunk of a taller tree when I heard the cannons begin, counting the dead from the bloodbath. Cannon after cannon rang through the air. Finally, the air quieted, and the birdsong resumed. I had counted six shots. Absentmindedly I wondered if Aster had been one. Who was dead and who was alive? I would find out when it got dark. But then seemed like a good time to check what was in the pack, and remove my soaked jacket, it was too hot for it now.

I tugged open the backpack, surprised to find it almost completely empty. There was a bone-dry canteen and a length of rope. Both of which were rather useless to me at the moment. I needed to find freshwater, and soon. But there was another possibility that I was starting to fear. What if there simply wasn’t any obvious drinkable water in the arena?

Frustrated, I shook the backpack, hoping for something, anything else it had to offer. Something clattered to the ground. It was a little metal container. I carefully pried it open. Ten tiny white tablets lay in perfect rows. I sniffed them, but they were scentless. I shut the compact and turned it over. My luck seemed to be improving as I read the label. Salt water purification tablets, which meant…

I shoved my jacket into the backpack, leaving only the water canteen out. I secured my bow at my back, shoved between the straps of the backpack. It was less awkward than before, but it would still hinder my movement. I assumed I was far enough away from the cornucopia to go down and collect some water.

Careful not to slip, I placed my feet on the knobs of the tree, descending slowly towards the water. By the time I found a root to perch on, my hands were raw from climbing, and I was sweating in all the heat. I hoped that the tablet would be enough to work on this water, but my doubt grew as I looked at the murk beneath me. There was no use just looking at it, so I dipped my canteen in, filling it to the brim. I capped it and tucked it back into the side pocket before beginning my climb back up. I wouldn’t be surprised if my palms bled after this.

If this worked, I had a source of water. It wasn’t unlimited, but it was good for now. I opened the canteen and placed a single tablet into it. When nothing happened immediately, I capped the canteen and turned towards the darkening sky. I hadn’t seen any signs of other tributes since I’d left the cornucopia. Which meant this was either a vast arena, or they were good at hiding.

A canon boomed, sending me reaching for my bow. It was closely followed by another. I sat on edge, that was eight in a day. We still had eighteen. It made me uneasy. Like this group of people were more dangerous than predicted. Or maybe the Capitol was out of practice.

The whir of a hovercraft filled the air, and I looked through the gaps in the leaves to see it. I couldn’t make it out, so I climbed a little higher, poking my head out from the canopy. I could just see the hovercraft departing from my left. They had been really close to me. This place wasn’t safe.

I sped back to my things, strapping everything to my back before moving away from the direction I’d seen the hovercraft. It was beginning to get dark, which meant I would have to stop soon. Tiredness dragged at my every move, and I began to regret my late night last night. Especially since Finn seemed to have betrayed me. I had wasted that time for nothing.

Suddenly enraged, I kicked the nearest trunk, which only served to hurt my foot. I sat down with a huff, cradling my newly bruised toes. I didn’t need any extra bruises if I was going to survive. I needed to get my emotions under control.

I glanced around in the near darkness. There was a branch directly above me, which was partially shielded from the rest of the lower branches. That seemed like a good enough place to rest. I would likely hear or see someone coming before they could see me, and there was a quick escape to the higher and yet thinner branches.

I climbed up and settled myself, setting the backpack behind me for a pillow. I tied my waist to the tree in a knot, one I could undo in a hurry, a trick my mother had taught me. That done I pulled some leaves to cover my body. The branches around me already did an okay job, but my father hadn’t taught me camouflage for nothing. Additionally, they served as a great insulator. And it was starting to get rather chilly. Belatedly, I remembered that I had shoved my jacket into my pack, and I tugged it loose, pulling it on and zipping it up.

I watched with fascination as the glinting of the water muted, crusting over rapidly with ice. It spread up the bases of the trees quickly. What a strange climate, sweltering during the day, and freezing at night. It could become deadly in both ways quickly. Shuddering, I imagined getting stuck in the frozen water.

I was downright shivering in the cold when the Panem national anthem blasted through the air. I watched my breath fog in front of me as I stared up at the sky. The first photo was of the girl from District Three, Ash, her short hair and glasses gleaming in the photo. I held my breath until the boy from Five appeared, which meant all of the careers had survived, including Finn. The next photo was District Six, and both those tributes had died. I recognized the boy who I’d saved from the net, District Seven. The screen flashed with the girls from Ten and Eleven. Surprisingly, it finished with Ivor’s photo. I hadn’t expected him to go so quickly. And secretly, I hadn’t expected Aster to survive the bloodbath. But here we were.

I exhaled another cloud of frozen air, rubbing my hands together to get warm. Surely I was going to freeze to death like this. As the last notes of the anthem played, I was coming to terms with my inevitable death by cold. But there was a voice in the arena.

“Tributes may now find a thermal blanket in the left pocket of their jacket.” Then there was silence. Incredulously, I unzipped my pocket, shocked to find a folded piece of what looked like foil. As I unfolded it, I realized it was in fact a blanket. Without further hesitation, I tucked it around my body, making sure my toes were covered. It took a moment to work, but slowly I found myself warming up.

For once, I was glad of the Capitol’s foresight. Of course it made sense, death by freezing wasn’t very entertaining. But in the middle of the night, I heard the telltale sound of a cannon, and I had to wonder what besides extreme temperatures would we be facing in here?

Chapter 17: Chapter 16- A Savior

Notes:

omg is ao3 back? hopefully this works! I might give you guys another chapter 2night also, but we shall see!

Katniss

The bloodbath had gone horribly wrong. I had shouted at Willow through the screen when, instead of running away from the cornucopia, she’d gone towards it. That was the moment I’d been sure I was about to watch my daughter die. I might have thrown up. Peeta had to support me completely.

But she didn’t. She got away with a bow and a pack.

I had to confront the very real possibility that my daughter was braver than I had ever been. Braver, and maybe just as foolish. She was certainly more risk prone. I still couldn’t believe that she’d survived that interaction. That spear had been aimed for her head.

Now, long after night had fallen, I sat in front of the screen in the viewing area. I’d made Peeta go to sleep after it was clear that Willow was safe for the night. No other tributes were near her, and she’d hidden herself well. The only thing to watch for was frostbite.

Annie sat at the station next to me, her eyes fixed on the screen with an expression I recognized. I chanced a look at her displays.

Finn was sitting next to Brooke in front of the career’s fire, looking disinterested and bored. Velour circled the area slowly, a spear in hand. The tributes from Two were huddled together, the girl leaning heavily on the boy by the fire. She was still bleeding. If she didn’t get help, she would probably die, given how pale she was looking.

“Why don’t we just kill her already?” Pearl snorted, gesturing to the girl from Two. She was standing opposite them, the firelight glinting in her eyes.

“Touch Ally and I’ll kill you,” the boy from Two growled, his grip tightening on his machete. He was the tallest of the bunch, beefier than Velour, who seemed to have taken on a leadership role. His care for his fellow tribute was interesting, to say the least. It was with a pang I considered that he’d probably made similar vows to get his district mate out as I had with Peeta in the second games we’d been in. Luckily, we’d never actually made it past day one in that arena.

“Let’s see if she survives the night,” Velour shrugged with barely a backwards glance. He had stopped moving, squinting into the trees. The frozen water was a curious new surface, and he placed a tentative foot on it. It held.

“We need another watch for the night, it’s frozen solid,” he called back to the fire, slowly making his way there.

“I’ll do it,” Finn said, standing stiffly, and stretching. The others seemed to have a silent conversation before Velour nodded. “We’ll keep watch together.”

The rest of them seemed to accept this, and began settling in for the night.

Hours passed and silence reigned in the viewing room. Mentors, many of them parents, sat glued to screens. Those that hadn’t lost both tributes yet, that is. Someone placed a mug of coffee in front of me, and I looked up, startled. It was Johanna.

“Your eyes are drooping,” was all she said before stalking off. I thanked her silently, taking a long sip of the bitter drink. It was comforting in some way. Annie smiled over at me, raising her own mug. Johanna was clearly making the rounds.

She rose from her seat, seemingly satisfied with the relative safety of her son, and stepped up to my seat. Setting her mug down gently, she examined Willow’s location. Then she went to the map in the center of the room where each tribute was shown with their photo hovering over their icon.

The arena was displayed as two overlapping circles, one the swamp, the other a grasslands full of what appeared to be caves and ravines. A mountain towered off to the side, cut off by the arena’s edge. The tributes had all begun in the swamp, with the cornucopia, and most of them had remained there. Some had slowly made their way to the grasslands, and haunted the caves there.

It was a strange arena, but not the strangest.

Relatively speaking, Willow and Finn weren’t far from each other, though I wasn’t sure Willow was holding out any hope for an alliance. Annie seemed to believe that Finn would go looking for her, but I didn’t see how.

When Annie returned from walking around the arena map, she was completely focused, a clarity in her eyes that I had rarely seen these past few days.

“Finn is going to search for her as soon as he can get away. Look,” she beckoned me to her screen, where Finn sat atop the cornucopia, scanning the trees. He wasn’t looking down at the shoreline, but up towards the tops of the trees. Velour prowled beneath, circling like a caged beast.

“Do you really think so?” I asked, stepping to watch as Finn placed his chin in his hand, looking dejected and thoughtful.

“He has to,” she answered solemnly. “And I have an idea.”

The girl with the head wound groaned loudly, her clammy face scrunching in pain as she dry heaved. She was not looking good, and had dragged herself to the water. Velour steered clear of the area. Her district mate was fast asleep a few paces away from where she crouched—no, he had an eye open, watching them all—and Pearl and Brooke had fallen asleep against the wall on the opposite side of the cornucopia.

“Help me send Ally this,” Annie pointed to one of the most high-end medicine money could buy, “and we can send her a message. She’ll help him.”

I was shaking my head before she could finish. No way. Ally was a career, and was probably better off dying now rather than living through whatever horrors the next few days would bring. Besides, how was she going to help Finn? What could she possibly do.

“Annie, I don’t think that will help. I know you don’t like to see-“

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she cut me off, her tone snippy but not hostile. I froze in surprise, reassessing the woman before me. Her turquoise eyes were hard, like chips of ice. She was only a few years my senior, and there was a gentleness in her that I had always envied, but beneath it there was steel. I had always underestimated her, felt sympathy for her fleeting mental clarity. But perhaps she was stronger than any of us.

“I’ve been watching Ally and Orion. Orion loves her, and Ally is a good girl. Sweet. She didn’t deserve this any more than the rest of them,” she continued, eyes turning to the screen once again. “She will do what is right in the end. I know it.”

“If you really think it will work…”

“I do, Katniss. I really do.”

So that was that. I transferred half of our funds—as Peeta and I had agreed to be fair to Aster and split everything fifty-fifty—and Annie purchased the medical salve, sending a nod to Enobaria as she typed in a message, and sent a parachute blinking down into the water. It landed just three feet from Ally, none of her allies any the wiser.

For a moment, I worried that Annie had betrayed us, tricked us. Annie of all people. Maybe she was working with Enobaria to make sure Willow-

I watched Ally’s shaking fingers unscrew the top, and the instant relief the salve brought her. She spread it across the gash on her head and sat back, eyes towards the sky as she mouthed a ‘thank you.’ I felt guilty, swallowed down the lump of rising dread.

Had I really been against relieving this girl’s pain? She was a child, just like Willow. Just like Finn and Aster and all the rest of them. I felt myself being sucked into the thrall of the Games. The mindset. It was survival of the strongest in there, but it shouldn’t have been.

Ally folded the note and tucked it into her jacket pocket, patting it once, before letting out a dramatic groan, and pretending to drag herself back to Orion. I would give her that, she was smart.

Chapter 18: Chapter 17- Reckoning

Finn

Yesterday had been a disaster. Not only had I lost Willow, probably forever, which made my mood poorer than I thought it could, but my standing with the careers was in peril. I wanted to leave the cornucopia more than anything, but I couldn’t seem to get out of their sight long enough to slip away. No, they were watching me, they were suspicious.

After Velour had slung a spear at Willow, I thought for sure we were both goners. But Brooke had vouched for me, practically preaching about how I’d stepped in the way of an arrow for her. I didn’t know why I’d done it, I’d been going for her knife, to stop her throwing it at Willow. But then I’d ended up standing there, shell-shocked. Maybe because I hadn’t wanted to see Willow kill. Or maybe it was the ruthless look in her eyes indicating that she would that had frozen me.

Both of us had lived, anyways. Velour had asked where my loyalties lay, and I had said with whoever could keep me alive long enough to win. What he didn’t know was that I doubted that would be the careers. At this point I assumed they were just waiting for an entertaining way to kill me. Namely, if I tried to escape.

Ally was still injured, the cut on her head had done a number on her. Orion said he thought she was concussed. Pearl had suggested just killing her so we could get a move on, but Orion had promised to kill each one of us if we touched her. So we were all at an impasse. Ally and Orion sat opposite Velour and Pearl, who were discussing a plan that I was not privy to. Brooke sat close enough to listen to them with her eyes on me. I knew exactly what this was, she was my designated jailer.

It was mid-morning, and the ice that had frozen over the entire arena had thawed. The heat was beginning to creep in again, and I shed my jacket in favor of the short sleeved shirt. My feet dangled in the water, creating ripples in the brownish green. The ripples expanded outwards, and then came back. For a moment I thought nothing of it, but then the ripples grew larger, circling almost. This was not normal water behavior.

Startled, I yanked my feet from the water, reaching for my trident. Was it another tribute? Some sort of creature? Perhaps a really big fish. I took a few steps back as bubbles joined the ripples in the water. Whatever it was, it was big. I debated calling for help, but if it was another tribute, I didn’t want to get them killed, so instead I watched silently as the water churned.

One second there was just some strange water. The next a giant creature reared from the water. I found myself facing down a mouth of uneven and very sharp teeth. Two beady black eyes locked on mine, towering above me. This thing could eat me whole. And it reeked of fish.

I barely moved out of the way in time. The thing lunged at me, an ear piercing shriek ringing through the air. I skidded back into the cornucopia, shouting about a river monster. For a moment the other careers looked like I was very funny, but then the river monster lunged for me again, and I narrowly avoided being eaten. I had nearly died twice in the past minute, and I didn’t appreciate it.

“Muttation!” I shouted, snapping my fellow tributes back to real life. There was no more hesitation, I launched myself at the river monster with my trident. I only barely made contact, ripping a gash in its side. But this thing was fast, faster than most large fish I’d seen. My trident glanced off the scales, which had been hardened, because nothing is ever easy. Still, I managed to land another blow to the thing’s side.

It shrieked as one of Velour’s spears embedded itself in the creature’s eye, narrowly missing my head. Pearl slashed at the thing with her daggers, severing one long whisker.

Looking at the beast, It had the head of a massive catfish, with the teeth of a piranha. The body was long and snakelike, with no fins save for pectoral fins. It was also possible that the thing was just so long I couldn’t see any other fins. Its scales were a dark green, almost brownish. It matched the water in that way. No doubt this was our punishment for being idle for too long.

Its spiked tail swept across the island, knocking several crates of supplies into the churning water. Orion shouted something at me, and I turned.

I had been distracted for too long, and I wasn’t quick enough when the thing lunged for me a third time. I felt the needle like teeth sink into the flesh of my shoulder and I cried out. It shrieked as it was hit again, and released me, spurring on a gush of blood down my side. I scrambled back, gripping my trident tightly.

I had never been injured like I had in that moment. Pain radiated from my shoulder in waves of agony. I found myself writhing on the ground, and I had to wonder if this thing was venomous. Was this how I would die? Tears streamed from my eyes, not only from the pain. Delirium was setting in, my body was going into shock, that was it.

I remembered reading about it. When the pain was too great to bear, the body would simply shut down. It was about blood flow, or lack of it really.

Had it always been so cold here? I frowned. I hated that I was letting down Willow, I was letting down my mother. And surely these were my final breaths, halting as they were.

I gasped as I felt something spear into my shoulder, cooling, soothing. I squeezed my eyes shut, sure that I was dead, but I could still hear the sounds of fighting. If this was death it certainly was bizarre.

I blinked open my eyes to find Ally hovering over my shoulder. She was spreading some sort of cream over my shoulder. She looked focused, and far less concussed than before. I wondered if she had been faking the whole time.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sitting up abruptly as the pain vanished. She skittered back, a pot of purple cream in her hand. The pain in my shoulder was receding rapidly, and I looked down in disbelief as the blood began to clot up and form three circular scabs.

“I- I got this last night. For my head. But they don’t know, only Orion,” she said, hurriedly glancing at the battle with the river creature. So it was a secret. She was hoarding materials. Smart. However, that could get her killed if the careers found out. I nodded, looking about.

I then realized that this was the chance I’d been waiting for. With the careers distracted, I could run. I could go find Willow, make good on my promise to her. I snatched my trident, pulled on a pack I knew to be filled with supplies, and approached Ally. She flinched away from me, after all, she was unarmed.

“I’m leaving. You never saw me, and I never saw that,” I pointed towards the pot of cream she was hurriedly tucking back into her pocket. She nodded once, before pointing to a jacket lying beside her. I snatched it up, I had lost mine, and I sure as hell wouldn’t survive without a blanket. I shoved everything I could find into the backpack, zipped it up and slung it over my good shoulder. Turning, I walked to the edge of the island. I looked over my shoulder once, at the ongoing battle, and then to Ally. She was watching me with wide eyes, and I remembered that she was only fifteen.

“Wait!” She passed me a crumpled piece of paper, “Go find Willow,” she said, shyly looking away.

“Thank you, Ally,” I said, tipping my trident to her, then I plunged into the water.

This water was a bear to swim through. There was little to no visibility, and it tasted like salt. I had figured out it wasn’t in fact salt water, but there was a high concentration of minerals in it. Which would be good or drinking if you could filter the bad stuff from the good.

My shoulder ached with every stroke, reminding me that I had narrowly avoided being eaten just two minutes ago. And I still wasn’t out of danger. If they killed that thing too soon, I’d be next up, caught and killed before I had a chance to find Willow. And If they caught me, they’d likely kill Ally too. I just hoped she could keep up the injured act. That seemed to be keeping her safe for now, along with Orion’s apparent dedication.

I kept telling myself I just had to make it a little further. Escape into the trees. But that meant I would have to climb the trees, which I was decidedly not good at, especially with an injured shoulder. And with my trident. Then there was tracking down Willow. I had no idea how to find her. At this point she probably thought very little of me. I hadn’t tried to protect her. But it had all happened so fast, I barely had time to react with Brooke shouting in my face, and then Velour tossed the spear and my heart had stopped. I couldn’t believe she’d escaped, and secretly I’d wanted to celebrate. But of course I’d been left in a snake’s nest.

As I reached the tree roots, I spared a glance back at the cornucopia. The battle was finishing up, and I watched as the creatures—there were now two of them—sunk below the surface of the water once more. One looked worse than the other, and thrashed before disappearing, either to die or tend to its injuries. I didn’t want to stick around to find out, especially if more lurked below.

It took the careers several moments to discover I was missing, and then there was a very heated debate about who had been the last to see me. All eyes fell on Ally. I heard as she explained she saw me get thrown back into the water by the creature, but her head had gone fuzzy again. She kept repeating words, as if she couldn’t remember. I had to admit, she was a skilled actor. But even her acting skills couldn’t save me, and I heard a shout echo out from Velour.

“I’ll kill you fish boy!” I wrinkled my nose. What kind of a nickname was that? Couldn’t he have come up with something cooler? Like trident boy, or sea god, or even fish man would’ve been fine. Fish boy made me sound like a fisherman’s apprentice who delivered fish around town for a little bit of money.

“Did any of you hear a canon?” Pearl asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

“No way. He probably ran. Once a coward…” Brook sniffed, grimacing. “Hear that?” Her voice rattled through the trees. “Your father was a traitorous coward and so are you!”

I turned from the cornucopia.

My right arm shook as I pulled myself up the tree. I tried not to let the scabs on my shoulder crack open, but it was rather difficult, and blood began to flow despite my best efforts. As far as I could tell, the teeth hadn’t gone all the way through my shoulder, which was good. But they had gone at least an inch deep, which was decidedly not good. I just had to hope that nothing too important had been hit, though I reasoned if that were the case, I would know by then. Besides, the cream had pretty much sealed up the holes. I wondered if it was only a topical ointment, but didn’t have time to worry about internal bleeding.

When I reached the lowest branch, I was met with another branch, giving easy access to the canopy. As I pulled myself up, I looked around, taking in the branches which seemed to lock together. It was like there was another floor to the arena. I removed my trident from where I’d secured it against my backpack, and began walking. I held my trident at the ready, and left my right arm to heal up. I didn’t dare look at it, I didn’t want to see how bad it was, or wasn’t.

So that left me wandering senselessly through the trees. I had no idea where Willow had gone, not even a general direction. She was clever enough to want to keep an eye on us, right? So perhaps she was circling the cornucopia. Or maybe she thought it was best to put distance between her and the careers? I sighed. This was pointless. I was never going to find her. And even if I did, she’d probably kill me for unintentionally betraying her.

I was sulking on a tree branch when I remembered the piece of paper that Ally had given me. Curiously, I took it from my pocket. Crumpled as it was, it didn’t register immediately that it was from a sponsor gift. It must’ve come with her medicine last night. It had gotten wet, but the ink was still legible.

Willow trees lean North.

Notes:

Double chapter day as a treat, but no more till Friday! Thanks so much for reading and thanks for leaving kudos as well! You're making me so so happy :)

Chapter 19: Chapter 18 - Easy to Kill

Notes:

Sorry this is late! Had kind of a crazy week, but everything is now sorted ;)

Willow

Sunlight filtered through the leaves above me as my eyes fluttered open. It was already godawful hot, and I ripped off the thermal blanket, sending a shower of leaves spiraling below me. The trees were a type I’d never seen before. I assumed they were a strange amalgamation of multiple types, or fake, even. The Capitol could produce some bizarre things.

As I mused, I wondered if the trees qualified as mutts. They weren’t animals, but they were alive.

The rope came untied from my lap as well, and I packed my supplies back into my bag, taking out the canteen of water. I looked up through the leaves, cursing when I realized it was already almost noon. I had slept far later than intended. No matter, there wasn’t really anything to do besides hunt. Something I should’ve done yesterday.

I uncapped the bottle, pouring a little into my hand. Miraculously, it was clear, a few particles of dirt, but nothing like the swamp water below. Now there was only one thing left to do: hope it wasn’t toxic.

Gingerly, I took a sip from the bottle. It tasted a little metallic, but otherwise clean. The saltiness that I’d tasted in the dirty water seemed to have disappeared.

Smiling to myself, I took slow sips of the water, savoring the way it ran down my throat. At least I had a source of clean water, for now. Next was to find some food. There were plenty of birds here, but to go and pluck each feather would take time, time I probably didn’t have. No, my best bet would be to search for squirrels. Or even frogs.

But first things first, I needed to get a good look at this arena. I shoved everything into my backpack, looping the straps over my shoulders. The muscles of my stomach ached as I stood up, reminding me of yesterday’s fall. I decided to worry about that later.

The tree in front of me rose high into the air, a little higher than the others around it. My progress was slow as my body was stiff and achy from sleeping on a tree branch. But finally I reached a good vantage point.

The trees seemed to extend in every direction, circling the cornucopia, which I was still surprisingly close to. Past the cornucopia was what looked like an open field, though I was too far away to see. It was blocked by trees. I could tell that the trees suddenly stopped, so perhaps that was the only other dry land besides the cornucopia. If that was the case, the other tributes would probably make their way there. There would be a higher chance of running into others, but also the highest chance of finding something to hunt.

On my other side, away from the cornucopia there seemed to be a massive waterfall, a plain, and a mountain. I was close enough to see that falling off that thing spelled certain death. I wondered what lay beyond it, rocks? Perhaps even more dry land? The vast expanse of trees made it hard to see anything. And the lack of other landmarks made orienting myself difficult.

The cornucopia appeared to be, from what I could see, a large oval. The cornucopia wasn’t centered, which was unusual for the games.

I was debating which way to go when I heard a rustling from beneath me. I had an arrow nocked in seconds, pointing down at where the sound was coming from. If it was a type of animal, I was about to be fed. But if it was another tribute, I was in danger.

“We have got to find a way to get sponsors.” A female voice carried through the air. It was followed by a grunt.

“Actually killing someone would help, instead of wimping out and making me do it,” a male voice responded bitterly. It sent a jolt of fear through me. This one was willing to kill, had killed, which didn’t bode well for me.

The girl scoffed. “Please,” it was the pair from Eight, “I was going to kill him, but I was busy fighting off that piranha thing.

What on earth was a piranha thing? A fish? An animal?

“Doesn’t matter now.” The boy was clearly upset, and he hadn’t bothered to rinse the blood from his face, where it now crusted against his dark skin. I wondered how many booms of the cannons they’d been responsible for yesterday.

Silently, I lowered my bow. If they didn’t see me, they would walk right beneath me and we would all go on our merry ways.

In the end, though, it wasn’t noise which gave me away. It was light. The glint of sunlight off my metal bow caught the eye of the boy. He stilled as I stiffened, panic tightening my grip. The girl tracked his gaze, and I saw the moment she registered who I was.

“Kill her,” she breathed, taking out a knife.

I skittered from my hiding place, bursting onto a large branch and running. I heard them in pursuit, crashing through the foliage after me. Branches bucked and swayed in my path. My breath came hot and fast, my hands slippery as they gripped my bow before me. A knife whizzed past my head, slicing some hair and nicking my ear.

Shit. I chanced a look behind me and instantly regretted it. The boy was on my heels, faster than I’d anticipated. And the girl had another knife.

Thinking fast, I leapt to a higher branch, my shoulders screaming as I hoisted myself up. I felt the sting of a blade land beside my calf and slice it open. It wasn’t deep, and it wouldn’t stop me. I could not die here. Something hit me from behind, and I fell to the side, my fingernails scratching the bark and bending painfully as I clawed it to stay on the branch.

“You’re not getting away from us!” The girl shrieked from below, still looking for a way up. Her friend had me pinned, but didn’t seem to have a weapon.

He decided to smash my head in, it seemed. He gripped my skull and I cried out, bucking against him with all my might. I could do nothing as he slammed my head down once, twice. Tasting iron in my throat and seeing stars, I grabbed his wrists and dug my nails in with brutal speed. Then I tore down.

He screamed, releasing me to feel my blood slicked fingers catch on skin. Or no, that was… I had to move. I couldn’t dwell on what I’d felt beneath his skin. I sluggishly pulled myself forwards, turning onto my back and kicking the boy squarely in the chest. He stumbled back, bleeding heavily from his hands. He looked furious, pained.

My head was heavy as I stood, the world seeming to spin and tilt. I had to stay upright. I pulled an arrow, nocking it. He rushed me, and I let it loose. It went through his shoulder and he cried out, but he didn’t stop. Strong as he was, he barreled into me hard enough to send me tumbling.

My vision blurred as I hit a branch just below the one I’d fallen from. The cuts on my stomach from yesterday screamed in pain. Time was moving sluggishly, and it was in slow motion that I watched the boy tug the arrow from his shoulder and toss it aside. He jumped to the branch I was on, and I blinked up at him.

“Now you die,” he said, approaching me.

Get up, Willow, get up.

“Mom?” I whispered, looking to the side. She wasn’t there. I shook my head, I was hallucinating.

I felt a hand in my hair, pulling me up. This was it. This had to be it. But I wouldn’t die without a fight. And maybe I could bring him with me. His fist sent my head reeling back, but I’d already swung my bow, and the minute he let go of my hair to punch me, the bow cracked along the side of his head. Fueled by pure panic and drive to survive, I panted, watching in stunned silence as the boy's eyes glazed over.

Then he crumpled, falling between branches with sickening thuds, until I heard a splash.

“Flax!” The girl shouted, having only now figured out a way up. But she pursued his falling body, leaping after him with a panic I recognized. She cared for him.

I heard her crying, searching the water for him. But I knew before the cannon sounded, Flax was dead. I had killed him. I’d swung my metal bow hard enough to put a dent in his skull. The girl glared up into the trees, but moved off quickly. I found that I couldn’t. My limbs felt heavy, and my head hurt badly. Each heartbeat sent a throbbing pain through my skull, and my fingers were thick with blood when I touched my face. His blood or mine, I didn’t know.

So heavy, was my body, that I didn’t move any further then. I just lay down, feeling my consciousness drift in and out. When I opened my eyes, nausea gripped me, and I lost what little I had in my stomach. I was only able to drag myself about a foot away from the sick.

Later—though how much later I couldn’t be sure—I felt the sun kiss my face, and let my eyelids drift open to see mid afternoon sun play across my fingers. It was hot, I was roasting. And thirsty. I couldn’t reach my backpack, though, my arms didn’t want to maneuver to take it off my back. Instead, I clutched my bow, pulling it closer as a groan shot from my throat at the sudden throbbing of my head.

Black spots slowly multiplied until they filled my vision, and I once again gave in to oblivion.

Footsteps jolted me from sweet slumber once again. There was a figure in the distance, a sound like running water. A tall, figure with a shadowy face, looking for all the world like my mother approaching a kill in the woods, bow drawn, even though the unlucky prey was already dead. There was the boom of a cannon, and I wondered in my delirium if it was for me.

I could only giggle.

“Hi mom. I’m ready to go now.”

“Oh my god, Willow,” someone who was definitely not my mother was cradling my throbbing head.

That wasn’t right.

“Mom?” I whispered, struggling to break free.

“No, I’m sorry, she’s not here. It's me, just-damn it hold still. It's Finn.” His words seemed to speed together.

"Can't be, he's a traitor." I was out again.

Chapter 20: Chapter 19- Reunion

Notes:

Hi hi, sorry for posting late but I will have another for you soon :). As always enjoy the chapter and thanks so much for reading!

Willow

Someone was sitting next to me, covered in blood and dirt and—

“Finn,” I mumbled, distrusting my eyes. There was no way he was here. And if he was, didn’t that mean the careers weren’t far behind? Had he come here to kill me? Was he just going to watch me bleed out? He was holding my head. I hadn’t yet checked, but the cut on my temple was gushing enough blood to make anyone wary. So a hallucination then.

I became increasingly more sure that this was all a concussion-induced dream, because his trident was discarded to the side. If he wasn’t here to kill me, I must be worse off than I’d thought. Or perhaps the blow to my head was indeed making me delirious. But when he touched my cheek he felt real, and he sounded pretty real, repeating my name. But when I moved to scramble away, things got blurry, and my vision swam with fuzzy shapes and black spots. Is this how I would die?

He said something, reached behind him.

I closed my eyes, preparing for my death.

Instead I found myself feeling distinctly alive when he dumped water on my face. I was sat upright, feeling bark at my back. Water filled my vision, stinging my eyes and making me sputter. When my vision cleared, I saw Finn, holding a water bottle, my water bottle. He was leaning over my face. The sun was lower now, past the noon peak. How long had it been? He was dabbing my face with a wad of something. He dabbed too hard at my temple and I yelped, hot pain stabbing through my skull again, followed by an intense nausea which I may or may not have given in to.

“Please don’t kill me,” I managed to grind out, gripping the hand he had pressed to my head. Finn was haloed in golden light, face so close to mine I could feel the whisper of his breath as he spoke. His words were unintelligible to me then, and darkness beckoned again. I closed my eyes as my head throbbed.

✦

 

When my eyes opened again, the sun was setting. “Willow!” Finn’s voice, whispered relief in his tone. Well screw his relief, because when I reached for my drinking water the bottle was empty. He was sitting next to me, his trident propped against the trunk of the tree. We were sequestered in a nook between two branches, with a third beneath us and foliage all around.

“What happened?” I groused, feeling a split lip sting with the speech.

“I found you bleeding from your head. It was bad, Willow,” Finn turned to me, seeming to be waking from a trance. He looked shaken, startled and pale. Dirt crusted his features, sandy hair was filled with small bits of organic debris. His hands were covered in dried blood… my blood, I realized with a jolt.

“Did you dump my water on me?” I asked, feeling stupid. And damp everywhere.

Touching my left temple gingerly, I felt only soft linen. It hurt like a bitch, but I doubted it had caused me to black out like that. No, I was concussed from when Flax had slammed my head to the ground. And maybe it was the blood, I hated the sight of it, and the feel of it, losing it. Dehydration, blood loss, head injury…

Internally I catalogued my woes, wondering how bad my situation was. Likely my state was a combination of multiple factors. Over the years I’d gotten over that fear of blood, but too much still made me uncomfortable. And head wounds bled a lot, I knew.

“I thought you going to die,” Finn said defensively, fear still evident in his voice. He didn’t look too good himself, there were holes in his shirt, and bloodstains covering his shoulders. Dark circles marred the skin under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept much. “You’ve been in and out for hours. Before the medicine came I was sure—Willow-“ I ignored the way his voice cracked on my name.

“That’s my drinking water,” I repeated, looking him dead in the eyes.

I’d missed that color green. Turquoise like the imaginary ocean in my head. And the way they seemed to pull me in, trapping me here, bottomless. “But thank you,” I whispered, turning away. Being caught staring was just as embarrassing as being found prone and half-conscious.

He looked affronted, relieved, panicked, and put off all at once.

“We got a sponsor gift?” I asked, unsure what else to say as I began stretching my stiff joints.

“Yeah. Something very expensive. Came with this,” he fished in his pocket for a moment before placing a metal tin and a note between us. I picked up the tin and uncapped it, sniffing. It was a cream, mint scented. There was some other strong odor that I couldn’t place, but seeing as it had probably saved my life, I guessed it was some Capitol ingredient.

The note was simple, just two words, stay together. I glanced at Finn. He’d already read it. There was no way of knowing which of our parents it was from, but my gut said all three of them.

It was clear that neither of us knew how to proceed, and we lapsed into silence. However, it only took a few moments for me to notice the blood still on my hands. Chunks of flesh remained caked beneath my nails. I was on the verge of tears seconds later, trying to take deep breaths. Instead I vomited, nothing but bile coming up.

I had just killed someone.

Or had a few hours ago, I didn’t know.

“Willow? Is it your head?” Finn scooted closer, a tentative hand brushing my hair away from my face as I heaved.

Panting, I shook my head—though it was still pounding—and steeled my nerves. Meeting Finn’s eyes again, I decided to break a rule. We needed sponsors, and neither of us were in great condition, what was the harm anyways? And perhaps I just wanted a semblance of comfort.

I threw myself at Finn, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and neck. He stilled for a moment, but then I felt his arms snake around me, hesitant at first but then squishing me firmly against him.

One of his hands began rubbing circles on my back, sending tingles shooting up my spine. The awkwardness I had expected wasn’t there, the hug was strangely familiar, firm and warm.

Finn’s ocean sweet scent had evaporated somewhat, covered by sweat and the smell of the swamp. But I could still make out the saltiness of the sea just beneath. If I tucked my nose into the crook of his neck and breathed deeply.

“Willow,” he murmured, his breath tickling my ear. I could feel the reverberations of his voice in his chest. “What about your rules?” He said softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up. Or so I hoped.

“Screw the rules,” I said. And I meant it. I had been stupid and scared of my own feelings, whatever they were. “We need sponsors.” The hand on my back stopped abruptly, and Finn stilled. I pulled away, confused, only to find him looking down at me like he’d been kicked. The look was quickly replaced by a neutral expression, and he said nothing as we separated, practically pushing me away.

Confused, head aching and still shaking from the ordeal of the day, I set about packing up our things. It was silent.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet and cold. “What’s the plan?” A plan. I didn’t officially have one. My stomach was aching with hunger, so perhaps food would be the first thing. And second, could I even trust him? Was he just hunting me for the careers? I would have to be wary until I knew he could be trusted.

But no, my parents would never have sent that note if they didn’t trust Finn. At least as much as one could, in this place.

“Hunting. The trees, and hopefully this swamp, end a bit that way. If there’s dry land, I can catch us dinner.” I pointed in the direction of the cornucopia. The direction Finn had arrived from. He nodded curtly before shouldering his pack. I again caught sight of his blood soaked shoulder before he turned away. I wanted to ask what had happened, but I had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t want to speak to me just then.

“Lead the way,” he said with an inclination of his head. I nodded once before fastening my bow securely across my back. I made sure to keep my attention on both him, and the way in front of me as I led us up branches. I had to orient myself several times to keep from heading in the wrong direction, and the going was slow. I even had to scale down a tree to collect more freshwater, which proved necessary as Finn divulged he hadn’t had a drop since he’d left the careers. Tired as we were, our hunger forced us to press on.

When the sun was nearly gone, we reached the cornucopia. We were directly beside it, nearly to the edge of the trees. From the treetops, we could see the careers, or some of them. It seemed only Brooke and Ally were there. Ally seemed to be sorting supplies, putting some objects on one side of the cornucopia, and some on the other. It looked almost as if she was separating survival supplies from killing supplies. Brooke was watching the trees with a bored expression, her fingers playing with loose stones from where she sat on the edge of the island.

At my side, Finn tensed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the cornucopia. “Where are the other three?” Anxiety curled in my gut. If we couldn’t see them, it probably meant they were out hunting other tributes, hunting us.

“We should go before we’re seen,” I said softly, turning from the cornucopia. Finn glanced once more at the careers before nodding and following me. I wondered absentmindedly what he’d done to get away, and if he’d actually separated from the group, or if this was all a ploy to kill me. If it was a trick, it certainly was a good one.

Just as I was about to leap across another branch, I heard voices from below us, followed by the telltale splashes of people swimming. I froze, halfway across, as the missing careers stood in knee deep water, facing down a very frightened girl.

“P-please,” she said, her hands shaking above her head. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. She was pretty, with blonde hair which fell in  soft waves, except now it was all muddy. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears. But through all the grime, I could make out her shining blue eyes. She looked like Anemone.

I hadn’t realized I had an arrow drawn until I was ready to fire, directly at Velour’s head. They were going to kill this girl, who was clearly not a threat. Velour had his spear already ready, Pearl at his side with a knife. Orion stood behind them, his head lowered. I closed one eye, taking aim. Before I could fire, Velour threw his spear. The girl became pinned against the trunk of a tree, her mouth open in shock as she blinked down at the spear in her chest.

“N-” I tried to cry out, but Finn snagged one arm around my waist, and one across my mouth. As he pulled me behind the thick trunk of the tree, I heard Pearl start to laugh.

“Orion, you’re seeing things.” Her laughter covered the wet sobbing of the girl they’d just speared.

I fisted my hands, tempted to take a swing at Finn so I could put an arrow through their skulls. I could do it, I was quick enough. But there was no telling if one of Pearl’s or Orion’s weapons would get me first.

“I swear I just saw someone in the trees,” Orion said, his voice worried. I heard the sloshing of the water as they moved away, no doubt scanning the trees now.

“You didn’t, there’s no one-”

“I saw it!”

“Alright then who was it?”

“I don’t know-never mind.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll just kill anyone up there later. Let’s go,” Velour’s imposing tone cut through Pearl and Orion’s tittering. “I’m hungry anyways.” I could hear the nonchalance in his tone, as if he hadn’t just killed someone. Or, since the cannon hadn’t sounded yet, fatally wounded.

An idea entered my head.

Maybe I could save her. If she wasn’t dead yet, perhaps she had a chance. As the tributes moved away, I tore away from Finn, ignoring his whispered urgency. My heart was beating fast as I scaled down the tree, landing in the water. I looked through the trees to see the fading forms of the other tributes, and began to approach the girl.

The ground was spongy under my feet, and I tried to be as silent as I could in the water. But the girl saw me coming. She was propped against the tree, submerged up to the gaping wound in her chest. The closer I got, the worse it looked. Blood pumped from the wound, oozing down into the water. The area around her was flooding with red. Little eddies of red and brown flowed past my boot as I reached her.

She coughed as she tried to speak, a trickle of blood running down her throat. Her tears mingled with the water around us as they fell. She made a horrible wheezing noise, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her chest. I was feeling lightheaded from the blood all around us, but I had to stay with her. I knew there was no saving her, so I took her hand.

“Please,” she choked, her throat bobbing with invisible sobs. “C- can you-” More blood bubbled up from her mouth. “Just talk,” she sighed, her voice nothing more than a breath.

“I- what’s your name?” I asked, squeezing her hand once. Her shining blue eyes focused on mine, and all I could see was Anemone’s wide eyes, filled with fear.

“Bailey,” she rasped, grasping my hand weakly. I nodded, smiling at her.

“Well, Bailey, do you know the story about the rainbow-fish?” When she hesitantly shook her head no, I continued. “Once upon a time, there was a fish, and she had the most beautiful scales. There were so many different colors, and when she swam around, she looked like a rainbow.” I was dimly aware of Finn’s presence at my back, his hand on my shoulder. I heard the cannon sound as if in the distance, but Bailey’s eyes were still on mine.

“All the other fishes envied her for her scales. So they refused to talk to her. This made her quite lonely you see.” Bailey’s hand went limp in mine, but her eyes searched mine. “She swam around the ocean all alone, looking for a friend. But everywhere she went, all the other fish were just too jealous.” Tears flowed freely down my face as I struggled to keep Bailey upright. She was slumping against the tree, her blood staining my fingers now. The light behind her eyes was rapidly fading.

“Finally, she found another fish like her, another rainbow-fish. A whole school of them. And she wasn’t alone anymore,” I said, reaching out to shut her frozen blue eyes.

Bailey’s hair shimmered golden in the last rays of the day as Finn removed the spear and carried her limp body out of the water. I hadn’t wanted her to get frozen into the swamp. He lay her gently on a thick root, folding her arms gently over her bloodied middle.

“In Four, we sprinkle a little freshwater over someone when they die.” Finn spoke softly, beckoning me forwards. I had refilled my canteen, and handed it to him without a word. He poured some into his hand before making a fist and letting it drip over Bailey.

Chapter 21: Chapter 20- Reprieve

Notes:

Here is a longer chapter on this lovely Friday for you lovely readers! <3

Finn

We walked in silence until we reached the edge of the trees. Below us stretched a waterfall, inlaid in a bed of rock. While the swamp froze at night, it seemed the waterfall kept running. Ice floes coasted over it from time to time.

Beyond that a flat field—more of a dry grassland really—could be seen, surrounded on all sides by the river. Rising from the distance was a mountain, at the far end of the grassland. It was the same height as the waterfall, which explains why I couldn’t see it before. But it presented a problem, how on earth were we going to get down a several hundred foot tall waterfall?

I stared down grimly at the water rushing past us. Climbing was second nature to me, but to Willow? Surely we couldn’t risk jumping down there. There was always a chance that the water below would be too shallow, or that sharp rocks awaited. Either way, it was a bad idea.

Willow stepped closer to the edge, her gaze blank. Her hands were still covered in the girl’s- Bailey’s- blood. Her fingers shook as she edged closer to the drop. I could almost see what she was thinking. She took another step, her foot hovering over open air. She was going to get herself killed.

“Willow,” I whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Gently, I tugged her away from the edge. She went willingly, still not looking up. It was almost like she was in a trance.

I understood, l’appel du vide. The impulse to jump. It was common enough among the climbers from Four. More common still in my mother. She’d once said it called to her.

“Don’t worry Finny, it may call me but I will not answer.”

Maybe the urge had been brought on by the way Bailey had died… she hadn’t deserved that. Just like the girl from Eleven I’d watched die. Also killed by the careers.

“Willow,” I said again, trying to meet her eyes. If she was going to survive, she had to snap out of this. I understood, human lives had been lost. Children had been killed by other children, by us even. But if we didn’t keep moving, we were going to join the names in the sky.

“We have to keep moving, or they died for nothing. We have to be alive to beat Velour, to beat the careers who did that.” To beat the Capitol. I let out a deep breath as her blue eyes flicked to mine. Neither of us were okay, but we could keep going. That was enough.

“I’ve got some rope,” I said, easing off my pack. “We can use it to scale down.” I hissed as the strap brushed my shoulder, heat flaring through my arm. As much as the healing cream had helped, the bite was deep, and it would probably take a while for any remaining cream to do its work.

“I have some rope too,” Willow said. Her voice startled me. She hadn’t spoken for a while, and I hadn’t expected her to. But instead of letting her in on my surprise, I just nodded, digging through my pack. If I went first, she could hold the rope for me up here, and if I fell, I had a better chance of survival. Then when I got there, we could use a pulley system, loop the rope around something up there while I held the rope secure on the ground. The only problem was, we only had about 200 feet of rope, and judging from that distance, it would not be enough. We would have to hope for a ledge halfway. When I told Willow as much, she leaned down on her stomach to look over the edge, scouting for a ledge.

“There is one, really close to the waterfall, maybe 150 feet down,” she called, her dark hair hanging over the edge with her head. I slowly took in our surroundings. We were exposed out here, and it was already fully dark. Whoever went last would have to fight off anyone who came from the woods, and hold the rope.

“Alright, let’s get you secured and you can head down first,” I said, glancing back at Willow. She stood up, brushing herself off. She nodded to me once before retrieving her things. Her bow and quiver lay nearby, next to our packs which we had discarded. I took a length of rope and began to tie a makeshift harness. Hopefully she wouldn’t need to rely on it, but I made it sound enough to catch her if she slipped.

For a moment I was reminded of my days on the cliffs. Long before President Snow had announced these Games, when I was free to be a kid. Every Sunday, my mother and I would go to the cliffs on the beach. She would sit and make nets. But I was far too energetic for that, so I learned how to climb the cliffs. At first I didn’t climb high, just across. Then, when I learned how to tie, I fashioned harnesses and tied ropes to hooks in the rock. It wasn’t long before I’d climbed to the top of each cliff in the area.

I smiled absentmindedly as I tied off the last knot in the rope harness. “Come on, step in,” I said, waving Willow over. She did as instructed, and I found I had overestimated her size. She was small, almost a full head shorter than me. The way she carried herself made her seem larger than life, full of confidence and determination. But there she stood.

I had to adjust the ropes. Scared as I was to touch her with her rules, I knew I had too. I needed to remember how she felt about me. She was just using me for the cameras, for sponsors. It wasn’t like she held me in any special regard. She'd made that abundantly clear. It didn’t matter how I felt about her. Even if every time we accidentally touched I had to pretend my blush was only for the cameras, had to ignore the leap in my heart and the sudden flutter in my stomach.

I tried to keep my hands steady as I adjusted the ropes around her thighs, and then her waist. It was difficult to keep them from shaking, as she had placed a hand on my shoulder to keep her balance and hadn’t moved it yet. Her breath was warm on my neck, and I had to flex my arms to keep her upright as she leaned forwards, allowing me to tighten the knots. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms, feel her warmth and bury my nose in that soft spot where he shoulder met her neck. For some semblance of comfort and belonging. But I didn’t. I stepped away, clearing my throat as I surveyed my work.

“You should be good to go.” I ran a hand through my mess of hair. It was caked with mud, and perhaps even blood by now. Bits of it were plastered to my forehead with the sweat of the day.

“Alright,” she said softly, eyes scanning my face. “I’ll try to be quick,” she added as I picked up the other end of the rope. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she surveyed the drop, face clear and assessing. Her head had stopped bleeding, and the bandages had remained clean, which I took as a good sign. But still, my heart clenched with the memory of finding her this morning.

She’d been lying on a branch facedown, head tilted to the side, eyes fluttering. Her head had been gushing blood from the wound just above her temple. No doubt she’d been hallucinating something fierce, she’d been calling for her mother. I thought she was a goner, had braced myself for the worst. I’d held her hair back each time she’d vomited and tried to coax water down her throat, had held her and prayed. And then the sponsor gift had dropped nearby. The medicine it contained, I had no doubt, had saved her life.

“Be safe, Willow,” I said, curling the rope around my good arm.

“You too, Finn. I’ll see you soon.” And then she was gone, disappearing like the sun behind the mountain. I sat near the edge, my body tense with anticipation. I kept checking behind me, expecting the careers to show up at any moment and kill me for betraying them. I had my trident ready next to me, but if it came to holding the rope or fighting back, I would hold the rope.

As the chill began to creep into my bones, I began to feel safer. The careers preferred to live in luxury. They wouldn’t be out hunting in the cold. But it did raise a question for Willow and I, was it too cold to climb? Surely in these temperatures it would be dangerous. Ice could form quickly, the rocks could become slick. I could only hope that we made it down fast enough to find shelter. But as time wore on, I began to grow doubtful.

Full night set in, and the sky turned dark purple, I knew for certain we were in trouble. The shadows in the trees were so dense now, that anyone could have snuck up on me and I wouldn’t have seen them. But finally, I felt a tug on the rope.

I leaned over the edge, searching for Willow. She stood next to the waterfall, her hands waving back and forth in excitement. Illuminated by the moon, I could only just make her figure out. She shouted something that I couldn’t quite hear over the rushing of the falls. But I waved back, letting her know I’d be down soon. My frozen hands flew over the knots of my own harness as I looped the rope around a nearby tree. I doubted I’d need any help, but security was nice.

I began my climb.

It was as easy as I remembered. Searching for footholds, and handholds, watching the distance change between you and the ground, it was so familiar. I was slower than usual with my shoulder, and my trident roped to my back, but I made it easily, no ice to be seen.

When I got closer to the waterfall, the rocks became slick with moss and water. With the waterfall rushing past my ears it was almost like climbing in a storm.

I arrived in half the time Willow had. My feet touched the ledge, and I took in the cave in front of me. It wasn’t very deep, but it provided great cover. It was halfway behind the waterfall. Willow had already pulled out her blanket, and was huddling against the wall with the rope gripped tightly in her hands.

“This is nice,” I said, untying my harness. She nodded, standing up to help me with the ropes. I untied her harness before pulling the rest of the rope off the tree above us. When I had it all coiled up, I placed it in the bottom of my pack. But my hand brushed something else, something wrapped in plastic. Confused I drew a loaf of bread from my bag. How long had that been in there?

It wasn’t large, barely a meal for one person, but Willow and I looked at it like it was a feast. And, for two people who hadn’t eaten in two days, it was. Huddled next to each other against a wall of the cave, we split the bread. Willow was working on purifying more water for us. We had three canteens now, one had fresh water, and two were purifying. I finally felt relaxed, now that the threat of starvation had diminished somewhat. But as the night grew cold, I realized I had a problem.

“I don’t have a blanket,” I said, feeling around in the stolen jacket’s pockets. Frantically, I searched in the pack, then the jacket again.

“I do,” Willow said hesitantly. Slowly, she offered one side of her blanket to me. I shook my head. I couldn’t ask her to do that. It was unfair. I had lost mine, I would face the consequences.

“Finn, you’re going to freeze to death. Come here before I throw you over the side of this waterfall.” There was no room for argument in her tone. And as I sheepishly took the edge of the blanket and slid next to her, I told myself that it meant nothing. It had to mean nothing. Feelings wouldn’t survive the arena.

I was incredibly distracted by her hip pressing into mine, her shoulder against my arm. But we had to be close, the blanket was small. It was so warm inside. I found myself relaxing a bit, enjoying the feeling of someone next to me.

“So why does your jacket say two instead of four?” Willow asked, her voice dangerously close to my neck. When I looked down at her, her eyes were focused on the sleeve of my jacket. Her dark eyelashes sparkled silvery in the moonlight. She was framed by it, glowing from behind.

“Uh, I lost mine in a river monster attack,” I said simply, trying not to focus on the way her hair fell over her shoulder. She’d taken it from the ponytail I noticed. I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through it.

“A- a river monster?” She asked, incredulous. When her blue eyes met mine, I swear I stopped breathing. I had to force myself to speak, to get words to come from my mouth. But my brain was shot.

“A river monster. It attacked the cornucopia,” I explained. “I was just sitting there, and I saw bubbles in the water. Then suddenly there was this giant snake-fish thing,” I realized I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop talking. “It attacked us, I got bit on my shoulder. I thought I was going to die,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. Thinking about it made me anxious, like there was a river monster just outside ready to finish the job.

“Finn, you got bitten? Let me see your shoulder,” Willow commanded, sitting straight up. I sat up with her, putting a hand out to stop her.

“No, no I’m fine. Really. I got some bandages from a sponsor and it’s all good,” I said, moving my shoulder around to prove it. It hurt, but it wasn’t fatal anymore. Apparently that wasn’t enough for Willow.

“Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me? If you wanted me naked you could ask politely.”

“Finn!” She exclaimed in exasperation. I chuckled, but did as I was told. I instantly regretted it. It was so cold. My skin formed goosebumps immediately, and I had to cross my arms to keep from shivering.

“You did a terrible job,” Willow said after a moment. In the darkness, I could’ve sworn I saw her cheeks reddening, but it was too hard to tell. I was certainly blushing. Especially when she began to undo the bandages I had put in place myself. Each brush of her warm fingers sent sparks shooting through my body.

“My god, Finn,” she gasped as she uncovered my shoulder completely. It admittedly looked better than before, but there was a bit of it, the third puncture mark, which began to bleed as soon as it became uncovered.

“It was worse before,” I whispered. Now that I was thinking about it, it did hurt quite a bit. I’d probably reopened it while climbing. Which was stupid of me, I should’ve been more careful. “And nowhere near as bad as you were this morning, I’ll remind you.”

She ignored that. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She asked, fingers brushing around the wound. I shivered again, not meeting her eyes. Instead I shrugged. She moved to my back, her hand feeling along my shoulder. “Does it hurt back here?” When I shook my head, she returned to face me, her eyebrows drawn together in worry. I didn’t want her to worry on my account. It wasn’t that serious anyways. I’d been sort of treated for them.

“River monster, so pesky,” I said, shaking my head in mock defeat. Willow rewarded me with a soft chuckle. Then she picked up the fresh bandages and began to rewrap it. I had to admit, when she did it, it felt better, more secure. As she finished, I gave an experimental rotation of my shoulder. The bandages looped around my chest as well as my arm. But it seemed like it should do the trick.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling my shirt on again. Willow didn’t respond for a moment. I couldn’t tell what she was looking at, but it was almost as if she was looking at me. But she snapped out of it when I pulled on my jacket. Shivering, we crawled under the blanket again. I was so cold, I found myself edging as close as I could get to Willow. She was warm, and she didn’t shove me away. Instead, she seemed to curl closer to me.

“So how did you get ambushed by District Eight?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper. Willow sighed, shifting her arm to pillow her head as she turned on her side to face me.

“I woke up late,” she said mournfully, looking up at me through half lidded eyes. I laughed, putting on a show of trying not to. Willow flicked the side of my face.

“It’s not funny, I almost died,” she scoffed, but the sides of her mouth were twisting up in a smile. I considered that a victory. She shifted, curling her body so that her nose was under the blanket. I couldn’t imagine that we smelled too good, considering we’d been roughing it with no perfumes or soaps for two days.

“You cold?” I asked, burrowing further into the silver blanket as well. These blankets weren’t for comfort, they were for survival. How I longed to be tucked into a real bed, with real sheets. A heavy quilt and a fluffy pillow. A hammock, even, sounded like heaven. Or even my own bed, which was by no means the most comfortable, but it would mean I was home.

“I am very cold,” Willow admitted, edging closer still to me. I thought about what I was about to do, and when I convinced myself she wasn’t going to hit me for it, I gently encircled her waist with my arms, being mindful of my injury. Slowly, I drew her closer to me, and when we were flush against each other, I relaxed. And eventually, I felt Willow relax against me. I was absolutely positive she could feel my heart racing in my chest, but maybe she wouldn’t notice.

Who was I kidding, of course she would notice.

After a while, her breathing evened out, and she burrowed deeper into my arms. I thought she was asleep, but she turned her head to catch my eye.

“Tell me more about the ocean?” She whispered, her voice thick with sleep. I was taken a bit by surprise, but I thought for a moment.

“As I mentioned, it’s big,” I whispered, remembering my home. “It’s so blue, but a different blue from the sky. Sometimes it looks like the sky and the water melt into each other, and you can’t really tell the difference. All the water is salty, and there's sand everywhere on the beaches. Tons of different fish live near the shore, and sometimes if you catch the right day of the year at dawn you’ll see turtles nesting…” I trailed off, hyper aware of her eyes on mine.

“I’ve always wanted to see it,” she sighed softly, turning away.

“You’ll see it,” I said. I couldn’t promise that I would take her, but I could try to make sure she got the chance to see the ocean. I wanted to tell her as much, but when I said her name, there was no response. She was asleep.

I was about to fall asleep when the Panem anthem blasted through the air. Groggily, I opened my eyes, struggling to see in the dark. Willow shifted next to me, propping herself up a bit. We could only just see the sky from the floor of the cave.

At the first image, Willow stiffened up. It was the boy from Eight. I recalled just that morning, Willow bleeding from her head, slumped on a tree branch with the District Eight girl screeching somewhere nearby. I was able to put two and two together. He was probably her kill.

Remembering the first life I took, it seemed like ages ago, but it had been just a day ago at the bloodbath. It had been an accident. The boy had been massive, and had rushed me the second I had a trident in my hands. We had fought, mostly hand to hand. He got a few hits in, but then I kicked his ankle. He had slipped, and cracked his head on the slick stones. What little I’d eaten that morning had come right up at the sight of the blood and pink tissue spilling out.

It had been towards the end of the bloodbath, so Velour had just shoved the body into the water like it was nothing. He’d clapped me on the back and told me I’d done a good job. I still felt nauseous with guilt when I thought about it.

The anthem ended with Bailey, and we both stiffened. Only two dead today, one killed by Willow, one by the career pack. No doubt the gamemakers were biding their time for something horrible.

“He was your first kill?” I whispered.

“Flax,” she responded quietly. “He was called Flax.”

I nodded. Ivor had been the name of my first kill. Bright red hair, bright eyes widening in shock as he fell. The stunned expression on his face would forever stare at me from my mind. And I felt he had a right to be there. He would haunt me for as long as I lived, because his blood was on my hands.

Notes:

Earning the one blanket tag in this one hehe

Chapter 22: Chapter 21- The Hare

Notes:

Sorry for late post (again) I am employed 💔

Willow

As our third day in the arena dawned, Finn and I made our way down the rest of the waterfall. Much like yesterday, it took him half as much time to get down as it did me. And when we were both standing on the solid ground, a field of grass swaying in front of us, only then did we stop to plan our next move. Of course, I knew what our next move had to be the moment my stomach started to growl. I really needed to hunt, or we were going to starve.

“We can rest here another day,” I said, gesturing to the cliff face behind us. We were wading in the shallows of the river which cleaved through the field. “I need to hunt before we starve,” I groused, rubbing at my empty stomach as the hunger pangs started again.

Finn paused, looking back at me. He was already nearly across the river. “We need to find a place to hide out, then,” he warned, casting his gaze behind me towards the waterfall.

I turned to scan the rock wall in front of me. The waterfall spanned over most of it, rushing water which drowned out most other noise. There were tons of tiny ledges in the rock, but none were a good size to hide on. But then, just beyond the waterfall I could see a little slice of darkness thicker than the rest. Another cave perhaps?

I whirled to point it out to Finn, only to nearly trip into the water. The current threatened to pull my legs our under me. Instead, my flailing arms hit his chest. My breath left my body as he gripped my waist in an attempt to steady me. I shut my eyes against the heat, shocked to feel the sudden nearness of him, of his muscle where my cheek was pressed.

I bit down on my tongue hard. Now was not the time to look weak. After last night, it felt like we’d broken an invisible barrier. A barrier that needed to stay intact. My body seemed drawn to his, something unlike I’d ever known before, and all I wanted to do was pull him closer, hold him there. It was a desperation for comfort, I told myself. A reaction to the stress of the arena. And anyways, getting close to him would only bring problems.

It was something I couldn’t do. We were in the games, and I needed to focus.

“You alright?” He asked, his voice soft in my ear. I nodded before pulling away, almost hesitantly.

“I just slipped,” I said, clearing my throat. I took several steps back before turning to point at the possible cave entrance. “I think I found a spot to hide out,” I said, making my way over. Finn stuck close to me, his presence at my back making my spine tingle. I was sure he was only standing that close in case I slipped again.

“Are you sure?” Finn asked, peering at the slim gap in the waterfall. While I understood his skepticism, he had to appreciate that I was at least trying.

“This is our only option!” I exclaimed, my hunger and frustration, as well as the overwhelming sensation of his presence, was getting the better of me.

With that I ducked under the waterfall, the cold water rushing down my body. I gasped as it hit the back of my neck, shivering as it made its way down my spine. I didn’t understand how this water was so cold when it’s source was warm. The swamp which fed into the waterfall was filled with stagnant water, but this water seemed to be anything but. Maybe it had something to do with how the arena froze every night?

I was rewarded for my troubles when I emerged in another cave, this one much smaller than the first. There was room for two people to lie down comfortably and perhaps four to stand. Water dripped in the very front, but the back was dry. Since it was covered from view by the waterfall, it was the perfect hiding spot.

“This is cozy,” Finn said, squeezing into the entrance next to me. I just rolled my eyes, sliding everything off of my back and onto the ground. My bow clanged against the side of the cave, and I secured my quiver to my back before picking it up.

“Stay here,” I said firmly, staring up at Finn’s bright eyes. In this lighting, with the beams of the sun hitting the waterfall at just the right angle, it looked like they were glowing.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” He asked, his voice playful as he feigned being hurt. I rolled my eyes again, but a smile was creeping onto my lips.

“Yes. You’re too loud to go hunting,” I teased, poking him in the chest. For a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far, because his eyes darkened and his expression sobered.

“How will I know you’re safe? If you don’t come back…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking to the waterfall before back to my face. I suddenly found it hard to breathe. Was Finn worried about me?

What a good way to get himself killed. But then, didn’t I care for him too?

Hesitantly, I placed a hand on his shoulder, the left one, to avoid his injury. I wanted to do more, to run my fingers through his wavy hair, press my lips to his cheek. I needed to stop thinking this way. We were in the arena, and only one of us would get out alive if we even made it that far.

“Finn, I’ll come back,” I promised. “If I’m not back by the time the sun touches the tip of the mountain, you can- you could,” I paused. I didn’t want him to chase after me and endanger himself. “If I don’t make it back by sunset, assume the worst. Don’t come after me.” I swallowed thickly. There was no guarantee that I wouldn’t be tracked and killed by the careers, or another tribute. But we would always be in danger here, it was the Hunger Games.

“Willow-” He started. I cut him off with a hand.

“I’ll be back. Get some sleep.” With that, I turned from the cave, bracing myself for the chill. As I waded out across the river, I looked back at the hidden cave. I thought I saw Finn’s silhouette standing there, watching me go, and I vowed to return.

Several moments later, I ducked into the field, the tall grass swaying softly. The trees here were scarce, and far smaller than those of the swamp. These were shorter and thinner. Some looked as though they could be blown over by a strong gust of wind. The leaves were all a lighter green, muted almost. It was certainly unlike the forest I frequented. Though, the trees were so far apart I could hardly call it a forest, a bush perhaps?

Fortunately, there were signs of life everywhere. As I stalked close to the ground, I found what looked like rabbit droppings. Fresh ones at that. This was good news, rabbits I knew how to hunt, and to cook. Also, that meant there were likely edible plants nearby. I would have to look for them after I caught enough food.

I couldn’t see anything with all this tall grass, so I searched for a good tree to climb. These trees provided little cover, and being up high would make myself a target to anyone on the outskirts of this field. They would see me a mile off. But if there was anyone else here, they’d probably seen me coming anyways.

A sturdier looking tree loomed in front of me, and I secured my bow to my back, searching for places to put my hands as I had done so many times before. My hand gripped a smaller branch, and I tested its strength. It wasn’t the best, but it would do. I hoisted myself up, my feet scrambling for purchase against the smooth wood. After the initial boost up, it became easier to find branches to use, and soon I was perched in the crook of the tree, looking down into the grass below me.

As my mother had taught me, hunting required patience. So I shifted my legs into a more comfortable position, and rested my bow on my lap with an arrow nocked. Then I sat in silence.

While I waited, I let my mind wander. First I imagined the ocean as Finn had described it. Big, and blue, teeming with life and vibrancy. But my mind quickly turned to Finn himself. I replayed our conversation last night in my head. The way his body had felt next to mine, warm and solid. The heat in his gaze that had made me curl my toes.

I was scared to admit what this meant. Of course I knew what this was, I’d felt drawn to boys before, but never like this. And what a terrible place for it, the arena, where we were doomed for tragedy no matter what. Then again maybe the intensity of the situation was what made everything feel so potent. We couldn’t afford to let whatever this was grow, provided it wasn’t my imagination. If Finn even saw me that way...

I sighed, how complicated things had become.

As the day passed, and my hunger intensified, I began to grow nervous. What if I didn’t catch anything? Finn would never admit it, but he was beginning to weaken like I was. If we went much longer without food, we would stand no chance of fighting off an attack. And I knew for a fact the careers were after both of us. Me for stealing from them, and Finn for stealing from them and leaving them.

Movement in the grass made my thoughts screech to a halt. I eased forwards on the branch, carefully shifting my bow into position. I stared at the ground, searching for the telltale signs of animals. And there, just behind a tuft of grass, I could see two long ears. No… four?

I waited patiently for the animals to move into my sight. I wanted a nice clean hit, right through the eye as my mother had taught me. As the first animal moved closer, I held back for a moment, admiring its size. It was at least double the size of any rabbit I’d hunted. Was it a hare? I’d never seen one, but I’d been told stories. They were larger and tougher than rabbits, but tasted mostly the same. It didn’t matter really, I was looking at a meal.

Another one emerged from the bushes, a mirror image of the first. In fact I couldn’t tell them apart. They seemed to move in the same way, at the exact same time. A pair, then. A strangely eerie pair.

The first hare finally turned so that its eye faced me. As it saw me, it rose to its haunches, sniffing the air. The second remained focused on the ground. Tan fur shimmered, so soft looking, and fine. Ears twitched with each little noise, each chirping insect or scattering brush. It was so majestic I felt bad killing it, but I needed to eat. Its long ears swiveled around as it relaxed its posture and I knew this was my chance.

The bow string slipped past my cheek as the arrow flew through the air. It hit the hare dead in the eye, and the poor thing was dead before its body slumped to the ground. It was a peaceful death, bloodless and quick. The second one jerked, but then skittered away. Mentally I apologized to it, thanked it. I hoped wherever my mother was, if she was watching, that she was proud of me. After all, it was her skills I’d inherited.

I slid down from the tree, checking my surroundings before moving towards the hare. I pressed my hand against its furry neck to check for a pulse. When I found none, I withdrew my arrow, wiping the blood on the ground. Then I returned the arrow to its quiver before hoisting the hare over my shoulder. It was heavy, which meant it would be good for several meals. I probably wouldn’t have to hunt again for at least a day.

As I began my walk back, my gaze snagged on a cluster of bushes. They were practically overflowing with berries. And not just any berries, wild blackberries. I didn’t know how they were growing here, so far from the river, but then I noticed a tiny brook babbling behind the bushes. So that explained it. Around the bushes, the grass turned green instead of gold.

Crouching down to pick the berries, I set the hare down beside me. It was truly a large burden, but a welcome one. As I plucked the juicy berries from the bush, I wondered how exactly I was going to carry them back. I’d only brought my bow and arrows, but I did have my jacket tied around my waist.

Hurriedly, I plucked berries, staining my fingers purple as I filled my jacket with them. Then, as an afterthought I picked up some sticks and stray stones to use as kindling. We were going to have to make a fire, and hope the waterfall would be enough to hide the smoke.

The sound of a cannon shattered the quiet, and my head shot up. Someone had just died in the games, and my only thought was about Finn. What if that had been his cannon, had the careers found us?

I wasted no time tying up my jacket into a sack and slinging the hare over my shoulder. I checked behind me once, watching as the sun sank almost completely behind the mountain. And then I realized exactly how badly I’d screwed up. I’d told Finn to assume the worst if I wasn’t back.

My sense of urgency spurred my feet forwards as I made a mad dash towards the waterfall. What if he’d gone looking for me and run into another tribute. My mind was circling through all the worst case scenarios as I neared the river. I waded across, watching where I put my feet so I didn’t fall and lose our food, and then finally I was stepping under the water, emerging into the tiny cave.

“Willow!” Finn exclaimed, his voice strangled. I barely had time to set down the hare and the berries before he tackled me in a hug, pressing me close to him. I brought my arms up to run along his back as he clung to me. Relief flowed through me, and I felt my shoulders relax. We were both okay, alive, and about to be well fed.

“I thought you were dead,” he muttered, his breath tickling the side of my neck. I pulled back to look him in the eyes, hesitantly cupping his face with my palms.

“I’m not, I’m here,” I promised, gently moving my thumb against his cheek. He had been crying, my heart stuttered.

“I thought- when I heard the cannon-” he said. I shook my head, watching as his eyes scanned my face. I let my eyes drift to his lips. They looked so soft. I wondered what they felt like.

I would have to keep wondering, because I pulled away.

I cleared my throat, slowly drawing his arms from me. He looked like he didn’t want to let go, and really, I didn’t either. But we needed to get cooking anyway.

“When I heard the cannon, I came running,” I said, squatting to tug the hare further into the cave. “I guess I lost track of time.” The jacket came untied as I pulled it along the ground, revealing the berries and twigs I’d gathered.

Finn sat down across from me, his elbows propped on his legs, ankles crossed. He took a few berries and examined them before popping them in his mouth.

“They’re blackberries,” he said, looking down at the pile I’d gathered. I nodded, searching for something to skin the hare with. But I quickly realized that neither of us had a knife. My arrows would work, but it would take forever.

“Finn,” I said softly, eyeing the hare that lay across my lap. “Can you bring me an arrow?” I sat at the mouth of the cave, watching the sun turn the sky gold and orange. Finn paused his gorging on berries, and instead of an arrow, I felt him drop some into my hand.

“Eat something before you do that,” he said, nodding towards the hare. I couldn’t really argue, I was starving. So I ate the berries, savoring the tartness and the sweetness. They were delicious, juicy and perfectly ripe.

As I was eating, Finn moved to sit next to me, the berries tucked between us. He held out an arrow to me, while keeping one for himself. I regarded him curiously, but he only reached over and pulled the hare towards him, beginning on the rather gory business of skinning the thing. I quickly began to help him, and together we had the thing skinned and cooking above a gently smoking fire in no time.

“So, Willow,” Finn said, fixing me with a smirk that meant trouble. “If you had to choose between eating roasted rabbit and blackberries or bread and jam for the rest of your life, which would it be?” I smiled, what and absurd question.

“What a strange question, obviously I’d take the blackberries,” I scoffed, a smile playing across my face. He made a humming noise, before nodding.

“I’d do the same. Blackberries are better than any jam,” he said. I only laughed more, having to put my hand down behind me to keep from tipping over. But then I had an idea.

“Finn, if you could choose between living in a tiny cave with ten people or living alone in a giant cave, which would you choose?”

“Ugh, and they’ve both got to be caves?” He asked, tilting his head back. I nodded, giggling as I turned the hare to cook the other side.

“Well since, they’re both caves, I’d prefer the one with ten people,” he said confidently. I wrinkled my nose. Why live with ten other people? It would always be so loud.

“What, you disagree?” He asked, his tone still amused.

“Why would you live with ten people in a tiny cave? It would smell so bad,” I sighed, thinking about the amount of bodies that would always be squished together.

“Maybe, but you only have to sleep there right? During the day you could hang out outside with all your friends,” he chuckled. But then he turned more serious. “I really hate being alone.” His voice was low, his eyes downcast. For a moment my heart stuttered, and things began to click together.

Why he’d gotten so upset when I didn’t come back, why he’d been hesitant to leave the group of careers. Why he’d stepped in front of Brooke, even. He was afraid of being alone—dying alone.

“You won’t be alone,” I assured him softly, imploring him to look up. I wanted him to see that I meant it. I wasn’t going to leave him behind. Despite myself, I’d come to trust him. We would only part at the top three, maybe even two. And even then, he needed to go home.

It was something I had been wrestling with, which one of us would get to go home. But I knew it couldn’t be me. It had to be him. He needed to take care of his mother. He was all she had left. At least my parents had each other, and Rye and Anemone. I would be missed, sure, but it wouldn’t destroy them. Not like it would Annie.

“Willow-” he started, as if he knew what I was thinking.

Splashing from outside caught his attention, and he had his trident in hand before I could blink. I scrambled for my bow, but it was hard to see by only the firelight. Finn stood in the entrance, his trident at the ready, and I had to take a moment to appreciate the speed with which he reacted. As my fingers closed around my bow and I drew an arrow, Finn pulled something from the river, placing his trident on the ground.

Coughing, on the ground of the cave, lay a little boy, his hair plastered to his face and his tiny body shuddering.

“Finn?” I lowered my bow to stand next to him, and we watched as the boy struggled to sit up.

“He was drowning,” he whispered, carefully propping his trident against the wall. Still within reach, but no longer threatening. He crouched in front of the boy, rubbing his back as he coughed up water. When the kid gained his senses, he skittered backwards, his back pressing against the far wall. His eyes widened as he brought his arms up to defend himself. He was terrified, I realized. Quickly, I lowered my bow, setting it on the ground.

“Hey,” Finn approached him slowly, his hands out in front of him. “Hi, my name is Finn, this is Willow,” he nodded towards me, and I gave a little wave. The boy’s eyes darted between us. “We won’t hurt you,” he promised, offering a hand to the boy.

“Willow Mellark?” The kid wheezed, relaxed marginally, his chest still heaving as he panted. The poor thing looked like a rabbit caught in a snare. And who knew what this kid had seen already.

Why had he said my name, though? The game makers had branded me as dangerous.

“What’s your name?” Finn asked as the boy took his hand to shake. I watched as the boy shivered in his jacket, clearly marked with a nine. So this was the district nine tribute. I remembered his face from training. I also thought I recalled that he was one of the youngest to set foot in the arena, his birthday being days before the reapings. Truly, I was surprised he was alive, he had earned a five as a training score.

After a long silence, the boy replied. “T- Tad- Taddeo,” he shivered, his small voice quivering. He really was a tiny thing, his face still thick with baby fat. His dark skin and light hair made for an unusual appearance, but his eyes were deep and soulful.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, pulling out some berries as Finn drew him close to our tiny fire. The hare wasn’t done cooking yet, but he could at least get some food in his stomach. And really he looked at the food I offered in a way which told me he probably hadn’t eaten since being in the arena. He wolfed down the handful of berries I had given him, so I dragged the jacket full of berries towards him. Then I went back to tending the meat.

When it was done, we ate in relative silence. Finn was completely relaxed, but I couldn’t let my guard down yet. Taddeo was still another tribute, and even younger tributes could turn into killers when it came to their own survival. Taddeo didn’t seem to notice my attention, his gaze was focused only on the meat he was devouring.

I had to admit, it felt good to have a full stomach. Especially after nearly three full days with nothing more than bread. I could feel my body strengthening, the leaden feeling in my limbs beginning to disappear. Even Finn looked better, prodding his shoulder experimentally.

I needed to talk business with him away from prying ears, but Taddeo looked like he was on the verge of sleep. So trusting. My heart softened for the boy. To be put in this environment as barely a twelve year old? To have witnessed blood and gore so early on? I wished he’d never have been voted in here.

After I was sure Taddeo was asleep with his foil blanket tucked up to his chin, I turned to Finn. I nodded my head to him, gesturing to go sit on the edge by the waterfall. Hopefully if Taddeo wasn’t truly asleep, the water would drown out our words. That and the cameras. If we could discuss without the entire Capitol listening that would be nice.

There was barely enough room to move around in this tiny cavern, but we managed to scoot to the ledge. “We need to talk,” I whispered into the darkness, feeling the light spray of water against my face. 

Notes:

Thank you all so much for the kudos! Kind words are always appreciated as well :)

Chapter 23: Chapter 22- Memoire

Notes:

Hi I know this is late (sorry sorry). I keep forgetting I upload twice a week, but since my posting is catching up on what I have written I think I will just be doing once a week from now on. Probably Tuesdays. Sorry!!

Annie

Knots. I had to tie the knots. I always had to tie the knots. Tie them and untie. Tie until my fingertips stung and throbbed. I had to tie to avoid seeing their faces, seeing his face. But I wanted to see him. I had to look. I had to watch the screen, see how he was. If he was still alive, I had to know.

Finn was scaling down the side of a cliff, the camera zoomed in towards his determined face. He looked so much like Finnick when he made that face. His sand colored hair was being blown about in the breeze from the waterfall, droplets of water flying from his hair as he moved.

Our son looks strong, I imagined Finnick beside me, watching him climb down, watching where he was placing his hands and feet.

There was no answer from beside me. The figure was standing too far to emanate any warmth, for me to see clearly. But that was Finnick's stance, his flashing turquoise eyes, his curling hair.

When I turned, Finnick was gone. Had never been.

Finn was going so fast, what if he fell? He could fall, he might fall, might fall and die, might die, might-

The camera cut to Willow, on solid ground next to the waterfall. She stood towards the edge of the cliffs, hand braced against the wall as she stared up. Looking for Finn, no doubt.

Katniss startled me by placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her, and she nodded. She was worried like I was. But they were doing well. My plan had worked, Ally hadn’t let us down. They hadn’t found food, but they were alive. They were alive and fighting and protecting each other. They would be okay, both of them.

For now.

The room we were in was quiet at that point. Nearing the end of the day as it was, most of the chatter had been tired out, the words all used up. Mentors sat around the room, eyes glued to the screens. They sat in various degrees of focus. The mentor for District Nine was passed out asleep on his chair.

Nine hadn’t had a real mentor this year, only a Capitol issued guide. And their tributes this year had been so young. The girl had already been killed, and the moment of her death with Finn and Willow last night had been played on repeat for half the day. I felt sorry for the girl’s parents, if she had any. But Willow and Finn were all the rage because of it. They had been getting lots of coverage in the morning, which was good for sponsors, but it was making the career mentors upset. Especially the ones from One. And by consequence the game makers.

The room was giant, with a raised platform in the middle where large screens focused on different tributes. There were thirteen additional platforms, smaller and lower to the ground. One for each district. They all had two screens, one for each tribute, a camera on them at all times. One hallway led to the main floor, where us mentors could go to collect sponsors, and another to the bedchambers, where the mentors were permitted to rest.

Perhaps the worst part of this room was the lack of privacy. There were several tributes in the games who had parents for mentors. If something were to happen to Finn, I wouldn’t want to be around all these people.

If something happens to Finn. If something happens to Finn. Finn. Is Finn okay? If something happens to Finn. What will happen to Finn? Is Finn okay? If something happens to Finn-

“Annie, have you slept at all?” Peeta asked from the other side of Katniss. He was reading my face, seeing past the dark circles and twitching fingers. He was watching my thoughts spiral. Too perceptive, Peeta. Always had been, so Finnick had told me.

Right then, I didn’t want to sleep. I had to watch Finn.

“No,” I answered simply, quietly. It was true. I had slept briefly when Finn had found Willow and tended to her, after it looked like she’d be alright. Before that I had only rested when the careers had gone to sleep.

“We can watch Finn,” Katniss said confidently, the light of the screen reflected in her grey eyes. So much like her daughter, that posture, that unshakeable air of confidence. How much of Finn was in me? I could almost imagine Finnick smiling, a dimple on his cheek, "he has your kindness, my love."

I shook my head, realising I had not moved or spoken. Besides, if I left what would happen to Finn? If I left and he-

I had to shut the thought down. I couldn’t handle thinking that thought. It couldn’t happen. Not for the first time I wished that I was in that arena in his place. I would gladly die if I knew he was alright. He wouldn’t be taken from me, not like Finnick.

“I have to watch,” my voice shook, but I knew my expression was turning blank. I didn’t want to talk anymore. It was too much. I didn’t want to listen to the voice in my head, my own thoughts. I just wanted- needed- to watch Finn and tie my knots.

✦

It was later that day, as I watched Finn sit in that cave, growing increasingly more agitated, that I realized what a huge mess he was in. He sorted through their backpacks, fiddled with an arrow Willow had left behind, wrapped and unwrapped his bandages, and even tried to catch minnows in the stream. Throughout it all, he kept looking in the direction Willow had gone.

Obviously, she was fine, the cameras revealed her perched in a tree, bow at the ready. But Finn didn’t know that, and I recognized the look on his face. He was worried about her, yes, but there was something else.

It was only when the sun began to sink behind the mountain that Finn nearly broke down. As the sun sank lower than the mountain, halfway beyond the peak, he began venturing further and further from the cave. He held his trident in a white knuckle grip, his jaw clenched as if it had been wired shut. The cameras didn't spend much time with him or Willow. Caesar made a comment about them up to the 'same old.' Katniss had snorted derisively, rolling her eyes and muttering about slaughter.

That had been hours ago. The Capitol was bored of our children for now. Both a blessing and a curse.

On the screen, Finn's rigid posture began to deflate, and I thought I was imagining it when he wiped angrily at his eyes and returned to the cave. I was glad then, that they were boring that day.

Finn had always been open with his emotions, especially when he was upset. To see him try to hide it made me grit my teeth and tug too hard on a knot––I wouldn't be able to untie it. He was trying to be strong for the cameras, but he was worried. I couldn’t recall exactly why he was worried. Willow had just caught a fat hare, and was busy picking berries.

When Finn was six, he had saved a seagull caught in a fisherman’s net. The thing’s wing had been broken, and Finn had carried it to me with the utmost delicacy. It had been bleeding all over him, and he had been crying, but he carried it so gently back to our home. He had begged me to save it, refusing to let me touch the bird in fear that I would hurt it. When I finally got it away from him, we had worked together to clean the cuts in the birds wing, and put it in a splint.

When it had been time to release the gull back to the wild, he had cried, asking why we couldn’t keep it. He had told me it was his best friend. That was when I realized Finn was a lonely child. The extent of the bullying at school had been unknown to me, unfathomable. Perhaps I just hadn't wanted to see it then. I had been lonely, so lonely I had sculpted my son in my image. I had placed my grief upon him, albeit unintentionally, given him shoes far too big for his years, and sent him on his way.

He did not resent me, never could. He was simply too kind for that. Sometimes I wished for him to get mad at me, to shout and scream and let out all the grief that I felt within myself.

I watched Finn break down on screen, musing about how being alone made him feel. He was afraid of it, afraid of her-or for her? There was something else that I couldn’t understand quite yet. Some degree of loss in his expression that part of me didn’t want to understand, but knew all too well.

"Annie?" Peeta again. His eyes right in front of me. When had he gotten here? How long had he been speaking? "Willow's almost back, don't worry."

I shook my head. That wasn't what I'd been thinking, but that was good. "They'll eat well," I whispered, leaning back in my seat and trying to battle back to haze clinging to my mind.

When Willow came back to the cave, I watched Katniss’s shoulders relax a fraction. And I was able to breathe easier knowing that they would soon be well fed.

What came as a total shock moments later, was the boy from Nine floundering in the river in front of their cave. As Finn pulled him from the water, I leaned forwards in my seat, watching closely. Just because he was small didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. He was one of the youngest ever to set foot in the arena, just another cruelty.

I watched the scene unfold, the little boy eagerly eating the offered food, and watching Willow and Finn with wide scared eyes. And when the boy fell asleep, Finn tucked his blanket closer around him, making sure he didn’t get cold. I hadn’t heard anything that they had talked about, but I could see their faces. Finn and Willow had decided to look after this boy. Which probably meant, when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to see my son again. Finn would never kill him, never be able to.

One glance at Katniss and Peeta and I knew they were thinking the same thing. Sorrow hung between us like a thick fog. No one wanted to speak.

With the knowledge that Finn was safe for the night, tucked away in a cave, I finally retreated to my room without another word. I needed privacy to think, to feel.

I would be up bright and early tomorrow to keep watch.

Finn didn’t realize it, but I could see how much slimmer his chances were getting by hour. He wasn’t doing anything on purpose, he couldn’t help it. But it was clear as day to me now, even if he didn’t yet know it himself. Finn loved her. Finn was going to die for her. And wasn't that just the thing? Love was so much more beautiful when doomed.

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading! :)
Am on holiday for now but will be back with more in July 💕

Chapter 24: Chapter 23 - Questions and the Possibility

Notes:

Hello all! I am so so so sorry for not updating until now, I had an insane summer then lowkey got deported. Anyways, things are on the up now and hopefully I will be able to get back to an update schedule soon. The ao3 author curse is real and I unfortunatley got hit :,(

Finn

The morning dawned in the arena, and the ice that had frozen solid the puddles in the entrance of the cave began to melt. I shifted away from Willow’s still sleeping form, rubbing my face with a hand. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, I had volunteered to keep watch for the first half of the night, and had then proceeded to fall asleep on said watch. What if someone had come in? We all would’ve been dead! 

I didn’t want to wake Willow up, she would be mad that I hadn’t woken her up for her watch, and then I would have to explain what how irresponsible I'd been. Instead, I carefully wormed my way out from under our shared blanket, nearly bumping into Taddeo. He was curled up in a fetal position, little nose tucked down to his chest. I bent down to tuck the blanket closer around him. I didn’t want him to get sick, or freeze, or anything else, really. 

“Dad?” He muttered in his sleep, reaching for me blindly. I could only sit there, frozen in shock, as Taddeo gripped my arm, trying to pull me down with him. His hand was warm, small in mine. He had a surprisingly strong grip for one so little. I didn’t have the heart to burst his bubble. I couldn't let myself curl up with him, it would be too much in this place. Instead, I gently pried his fingers from my arm and placed my hand on his head, gently ruffling his hair. 

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered, standing up slowly. I hoped his dreams were more pleasant than this nightmare that we were living through. This reality was no place for a child. After what Willow and I had talked about last night, I knew we would do our best with this kid. But when it came down to it, neither of us could guarantee his safety. 

I propped my trident against the side of the cave, positioning myself in the entrance. I could see a little sliver of the arena past this waterfall. The light was still muted, long shadows crossing the ground like giant scars. The sky was still dark blue, but no longer inky. Hints of orange were creeping into the sky, carried on the edges of clouds. 

It was certainly a beautiful sunrise, but I found myself wondering why the gamemakers even bothered. They designed this place to kill us, torture us, and punish everyone watching, save the Capitol. So why go through the trouble of making it look nice? 

Of course I already knew the answer to that. They found it entertaining. This was just another television program. The citizens in the Capitol were perhaps more aware of this now, after the Second Rebellion, but they still decided to watch it. They still wanted to participate in it. And so in my mind, they were beyond redemption. To allow this sick sport to continue was unforgivable. 

I clenched my fists as I continued to keep watch. Unable to relax, I found myself wanting to go outside, have a better view of any possible danger. Checking to make sure Willow and Taddeo were still asleep, I slipped in front of the waterfall, my boots sloshing in the cold water. I cupped a hand and splashed my face with the icy water before looking around. 

For a few moments everything was still. The tall grass swayed softly, the leaves in the trees rustled, and the loudest noise was that of the waterfall behind me. But of course, nothing lasts, and soon a cannon sounded, echoing through the arena. A violent reminder that we weren’t safe here. 

In the early morning light, I stood at the ready, watching a figure on the mountain in front of us. Whoever it was seemed quite proficient at climbing. They hurtled down the side of the mountain, then vanished into the treetops. I couldn’t make out any noticeable features, save for a flash of green. Hadn’t there been a girl with dyed green hair? Thankfully they didn’t seem to be heading in this direction. Likely they were trying to survive and avoid others, just like we were.

I heard splashing behind me and whirled to face Willow, rubbing at her eyes. The cannon must’ve woken her up. She was in the process of tying her hair back from her face. Blinking rapidly in the new sunlight, she looked groggy, still half asleep. As she shivered once, I had to restrain myself from walking over and wrapping her in a hug to warm her up. 

“Did the cannon wake you up?” I asked, running a hand through my hair absentmindedly. By now it was caked in dirt, and probably several shades darker than normal. I could feel the bits of dried silt on my scalp. When I pulled my hand away, a cloud of dust followed. If I ever showered again I would love to feel my hair back to its normal state. I would even comb it!

“Yeah, I think so. Taddeo’s still asleep.”

I nodded, turning back to scan the horizon. 

“Hey Finn.” I shifted to look at Willow once more. She was pulling her hair from her tie, approaching the waterfall. I tilted my head in curiosity.

“Why is this water clear, but the water up there is swampy?” She posed the question thoughtfully, staring up at the waterfall. She had a fair point. It didn’t make sense that the water seemed to run clear here, and be filled with dirt and debris further up. But this was the arena. Likely the gamemakers had intended this to be a reliable drinking source…or bathing source— 

Without another second of hesitation, I plunged under the spray, running my hands through my hair to try and dispel the dirt lodged there. The icy water was like a slap in the face. It trickled down my spine, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise. It was like stepping outside in the middle of winter. I found it refreshing. And hopefully it would wash away the past few days of grime and blood. I even scrubbed at the blood that had stained my arm for so long. Admittedly this was one of the best feelings in the world. 

Drawing back from the waterfall, I shook my head from side to side, sending water droplets flying. 

“Finn!” Willow exclaimed, holding her hands up so that the drops didn’t hit her. 

“Nice and clean!” I exclaimed with a winning smile. Willow only looked at me with a bemused expression. But her face slowly grew serious once again. 

“This is freshwater. Don’t you think other people might be looking for some of that?” Realization bloomed in my chest, fear causing my heart to skip a beat. Of course. We were in a danger zone. The moment of levity passed.

“I’ll wake up Taddeo, we need to get going,” My voice sounded distant to my own ears. Anxiety spurred us both on, me into the cave and Willow into the water to try and clean up. She still had blood on her face from the other day.

I rushed into the cave, packing up our things carefully and wrapping the rest of the rabbit meat in the plastic that had been around the bread. I split what little we had between the two backpacks, then zipped them up before setting them by the entrance to the cave. Slowly, I approached Taddeo, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. I shook him lightly. He half turned, blinking his eyes groggily, before startling so much that he skittered out from under the blanket entirely. It made me wonder how much this kid had already seen. Too much, I decided.

“Taddeo, buddy, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” I said with outstretched hands. I kept my palms visible, showing him I meant no harm and was unarmed. “We need to go now.”

He regarded me with wide eyes, chest heaving. It took him several minutes to calm down, and he finally spoke. 

“Can I come with you?” 

“Of course,” I flashed him a comforting smile. “We’re going to get some more food and find a place to camp further away from the cliffs,” I explained, gesturing to the damp cave that surrounded us. “Willow is waiting outside, remember her? Katniss and Peeta's daughter. You wanna bring me her backpack?”

Taddeo looked at me skeptically before nodding twice and gathering his blanket in his arms and crumpling it to fit inside his pocket. He handed me the backpack I had asked him for, though. 

Soon enough we were moving, sneaking through the grassland as the sun rose. Taddeo was proving to be pretty quick, keeping up with Willow and I easily. He did tend to get distracted by the bugs he saw on the ground, and at one point tried to catch a bird with his bare hands. Personally, I found his antics amusing, but Willow was clear that since we weren’t in normal circumstances, we needed to keep a low profile. 

By midmorning, we had reached the base of the mountain, and had decided to break to eat. I was busy pulling the food out of the packs while Taddeo chittered away at Willow.

“One time I got lost in one of my family’s fields so I spent the night there. It was really scary but I saw this really nice dog. And since my family was out looking for me I got found in the morning, but I still had the dog, so they let me keep the dog. Well I should say my dad let me keep the dog. My mom didn’t like it-”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Willow asked, chuckling. 

“I named her Snail, because she only had three legs and she's slow. And also I think snails are really cool.” 

“I would agree. Did you know there are more types of sea snails than there are land snails?” 

Taddeo shook his head, gazing at Willow with wonder-filled eyes. Willow smiled, pulling the rabbit meat from her bag.

“It’s true,” she said, offering a hefty chunk of hare to him. Taddeo took it with a smile, and suddenly it was quieter than it had been all day. It seemed as though Taddeo never stopped talking. He clearly trusted us, maybe a little too much. Though I certainly wasn’t going to do anything to hurt this kid. He, out of all of us, was probably the most innocent, both Willow and I had blood on our hands.

“Finn,” Willow called, tossing over the wrapped meat. I caught it one handed, drawing it into my lap. There was a good portion left. Enough for dinner at least, but we would have to start worrying about food again soon. 

I had only taken one bite when I heard a noise from above us. Instantly, I had my trident in my hand, Willow with her bow at my side. Taddeo stilled, his hand gripping tightly to a stick he’d found. My eyes scanned the trees to our left, searching for possible danger. The only sound was our own breathing, rapid and harsh. My heart beat loud in my ears, panic clenching my stomach painfully. 

Another crack of branches came from somewhere behind us, and I whirled around. Willow had her bow aimed up into the foliage, and I stood at the ready with my trident. But we were up against a whole lot of unknowns. We couldn’t even figure over which direction they were coming from, if this wasn’t just an animal.

“Don’t shoot,” A voice echoed from the trees. “Please.” It sounded female, pretty young. There was a hint of fear in the words, a strain in the way they were spoken. 

Something crunched behind us, and I spun to find a girl standing in front of the trees, her hands palm up. She looked to be about fourteen, with a rather athletic appearance. A dark blotchy bruise covered one side of her neck, but the rest of her dark skin was perfectly clear. Her dark curls faded into a bright green at the ends, and her eyes were a soft brown. There was no indication of her district, the patch was missing from the standard arena outfit. 

I lowered my trident marginally, observing her with skepticism. Willow too lowered her bow, but kept an arrow nocked. 

“Willow Mellark and Finn Odair, right?” She asked, her voice hesitant as her eyes flitted between us. If I hadn’t known any better I would’ve thought she was nervous. She carried no visible weapons, no backpack, no jacket. I assumed she had been hiding out nearby then.

“I need your help, please.” Her eyebrows knit together as her voice quivered. This only made me even more suspicious. She knew our names, and wanted us to ‘help’ her. It sounded like a trap. But on the off chance it wasn’t-

“How did you find us? Why were you looking for us specifically?” Willow asked, her voice hard. 

“My friend is hurt. He said you know him, Gears-I mean Jacob Latier. He wouldn’t trust anyone else.” Well Gears had been right about one thing, we knew him. Or rather his last name. A friend of our parents.

I cast a glance towards Willow, to find her looking at me with a grim expression. The question we were both battling with, was this a trap? If it was, it was a clever one. Drop the name of someone we knew, claim they were injured, try to get us to help. But the fact that this girl had no weapons made me think twice. Maybe she was telling the truth. 

“Let’s go check it out, but stay on alert,” whispered Willow, her gaze boring into mine. I nodded once, then turned to the girl.

“Where?”

After we packed up, and reassured Taddeo that everything was okay, we set off after the girl. She rapidly introduced herself as Holly, from District Seven. She mentioned Johanna Mason several times, almost in a reverent way. That was a good sign. If I recalled correctly Johanna had also been an important figure in the Second Rebellion. She and my mother had kept in close contact, or as much as they could. I didn’t know the specifics, but there was a network in the Capitol for sending messages to the districts, and Johanna spent a lot of time in the Capitol.

Holly led us up the side of the mountain, heading left of the waterfall and the field. It took us perhaps fifteen minutes to arrive at a tiny opening in the side of the mountain. From the angle we approached from, it was almost completely obscured. It was the perfect hiding place. But it was also difficult to get out of, due to the narrow passage I found myself in. This would be trouble if we needed to make a quick getaway.

On the other side of the passage, just above Willow’s head I could see a soft light, likely from a fire. The entryway opened into a broad chamber. 

“Finally,” a male voice echoed through the open area as we emerged in a cave. Light streamed in from several places where boulders only half covered openings. A fire was lit in the middle of the cave, and copper wires seemed to crisscross over the entire cave. Overall it was a pretty big place, nearly the size of a small house. 

“Took you long enough,” the voice said again. It took me a moment to locate who it was coming from, and even then I only saw him because Holly went to stand next to him. It was a tall and thin boy, dark skin with even darker hair. Wire glasses were perched on his nose, and he had a length of wire gathered around his arm. He looked distinctly like his grandfather.

“Jacob Latier,” Willow greeted. “You aren’t hurt,” she observed, her gaze flicking over the boy, her fingers drifting towards her quiver.

“Gears, please. Call me Gears.” He set the wire down on the ground behind him, crossing his arms as he stepped closer to us. 

“I am perfectly fine, but I do need your help. I have a way out of this arena. A chance for all of us to survive.”

Intrigued, I tilted my head. How could we get out of here? Was this just an elaborate plot to get Willow and I to lower our guard? Caution dictated that I step in between Gears and my companions, but Willow stepped to my side. 

“How?” I asked, keeping the grip on my trident tight. 

“Oh come on, if we had wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now,” muttered Gears. “Look, I want to live, Holly wants to live, I’m sure you two and District Nine over there want out of here. All we have to do is blow a hole in the arena,” he scoffed. As if we should’ve known this. 

I was more worried about the fact that Gears was confessing to treason, in front of the entire Capitol. I looked over my shoulder cautiously, trying to find where the cameras in the cave were, preparing myself for the Capitol to drown us, or send muttations after us for even thinking of messing with their precious reality television.

“I disabled the cameras,” Holly spoke up, scrounging on the floor for a moment before displaying a little black disk with several wires coming from it. She must have seen my hesitation. 

“How-” Willow muttered, frowning at the camera dangling from Holly’s hands. 

“It’s true, the Capitol cannot reach us here.” Gears smiled, fidgeting with his fingers. “If they could, my companion and I would’ve been long dead by now.” 

“So we can speak freely?” I asked hesitantly, feeling the grip on my trident relax a bit. I didn’t trust these two, Holly had already lied to us, but Gears had made a good point. If they had wanted to kill us, this certainly was an elaborate plot to do so. 

“I don’t like the Capitol,” Taddeo said quietly from behind me. In all honesty I had forgotten he was there, his silence was unusual. But his words drew out some quiet chuckles from everyone. 

“We’re going to get us all out of here, Taddeo,” I promised, tilting my head down to meet his eyes. 

Especially Taddeo. If I had to die trying, I would get Willow and Taddeo out of here safely. They had to go home. My own survival would be a bonus. 

“How come the Capitol hasn’t sent someone to fix the cameras? Where did you learn to find them?” Willow spoke up again, but at least her hands were by her sides now, no longer twitching towards an arrow.

Holly and Gears shared a look, and Gears nodded, as if giving her permission. “Johanna trained me. She put my name up for nomination because she knew I was skilled with tech. And Gears’s granddad showed him what to do. They want to stop the Games, but they couldn’t do it without agents on the inside.”

“And,” Gears cut in, “The Capitol can’t send anyone in to fix this particular malfunction while we occupy the space. They don’t want to be seen interfering. However, I should warn you that there is a camera directly opposite the opening to the cave mouth which we left intact to satiate them.”

So the Victors hadn’t all agreed to this, then. I never truly thought they had, there was no way my mother would have. But I’d never considered the possibility of another attempt at rebellion. Holly and Gears were plants… placed here for one purpose, their mentors risking their lives to bring an end to this whole thing. Kids younger than I was, doing more than I ever could.

“Does my mother know?” Willow had gone still, and Taddeo looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Not yet. But his does,” Holly gestured to me.

“My mother?” My grip felt weak on my trident. My mother had known about this plan and not told me? Had she not trusted me?

Distrust flashed in Willow’s eyes as she examined me. But I hadn’t known. For whatever reason, my mother had left me in the dark.

Chapter 25: Chapter 24 - One Fight of Many

Notes:

I can only apologise once again for my absence... SORRY :,{ I decided to get another degree (why would I do that) and it has taken a lot of time! ANYways I can't promise I will update consistently, but I CAN promise that I will not abandon this fic! despair not! It shall be completed eventually...somewhere down the line... It is mostly done which speeds things up, but I do like to edit, and re-edit, and re-re-edit, you get the picture. Regardless, here is a chapter!

TW for some illness and violence, as per usual with the hunger games.

Willow

So, there was a conspiracy at play.

I narrowed my eyes at Finn. Had he known? And hadn’t told me? I couldn’t believe he wouldn’t give some sort of hint to me if he had. But his own mother was allegedly involved. We would have to talk later.

It was hard to believe, so far fetched, in fact, that I simply had to trust Holly and Gears, because lying about this was just too ridiculous. Beetee, Johanna, and Annie were in cahoots to bring the Games to an end again. It was treason. It would end in bloodshed. It had already ended in bloodshed. And yet, a stubborn blossom of hope was expanding in my chest.

There was a plan to get us out of the arena.

My mind was made up. “What do you need us to do?”

“I told you she was capable of logic,” Holly griped at Gears. He raised his hands in defeat.

“I didn’t want to risk the plan,” he explained, “by telling you it might expose us. But Holly said we should bring you into the fold.”

I nodded once, and Gears continued. “Now, you all must pretend I am gravely injured and cannot be saved. But you did your best and Holly is going to stay with me. Your job is to get me some supplies from the cornucopia-”

“And some food would be nice,” Holly added. She batted away Gears when he tried to shush her.

“That’s not relevant, we need the mines.”

I froze. He wanted us to get the mines from beneath the starting platforms. That was nigh on impossible. I was going to tell him so, but Finn beat me to it.

“Hold on. The mines? As in the explosives?” Finn was openly glaring at the two. They quieted, Gears blinking once.

“Yes. You just have to dig up one.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I growled. “Don’t you know how the Games work? The cornucopia is career territory. That includes the platforms. And even if we get there without being seen, the explosives will blow us to hell!”

“Lower your voice, the cave isn’t soundproof,” Gears chided. "Besides, you're both practically careers."

“Sorry. The explosives will blow us to hell. Better?” I hissed, baring my teeth in a way that felt almost too animalistic. Taddeo cringed back, stepping towards the wall of the cave. I couldn’t feel anything but anger in that moment. For a brief few moments I’d had hope, crazy hope, that these two had some secret way of getting us out of here. But now… Now it was clear, they were just going to blow a hole in the side of the arena. Again. Easy.

“Listen, you either get a chance to get all of us out of here alive, or you keep playing the game,” Holly said quickly. “I didn’t want to ask you to do this, but plan A didn’t work.”

“What was plan A?” Finn stood with his arms crossed, closer to Taddeo now.

“Does it matter? It didn’t work.” Gears focused on the ground, his wire glasses sliding down his nose. His hands were bunched in fists. This was a sensitive point then. “Ever since the last Quarter Quell, they’ve taken special security measures to prevent any tokens that might be useful,” Gears continued. “Ash…” he trailed off, seeming to need a moment. Ash had been his district mate, a little girl no more than twelve. Slight, with the kind of soulful eyes that made you want to give her a smile. “She was denied her token. Her token was plan A.”

Finn opened his mouth to ask more, but I shook my head once. Don’t push. He nodded once.

“I guess I’d give it a try, if Willow agrees,” Finn said, turquoise eyes boring into mine. I frowned. Holly looked at me expectantly, Gears’ attention was still on the ground. Why was it up to me? I was still pissed about having to go dig up an explosive.

“Fine,” I spat. “Tell me how to get the mine.”

That afternoon was spent going over tentative plans. I was in a foul mood, though, and Finn did most of the talking. We were going to find a way around the careers, and bring the mine to Holly at the edge of the falls at noon two days from now. She would be better able to transport the mine down the falls, but she did give us a spare shirt to wrap the explosive in. I didn’t ask where it came from.

I caught another hare and left it for Holly and Gears, then Finn, Taddeo, and I set off with the late afternoon sun at our backs. When it began to rain, I took it as a sign that today was just destined to be a bad day. With the drizzle increasing to a downpour, I called a halt to wait it out beneath a cluster of trees. While they did little to shield us from the damp, at least we weren’t getting buckets of water tipped over our heads. I was already soaked to the bone. It was going to be a very uncomfortable night.

“You’ve been quiet,” Finn commented, squatting next to me. Taddeo was scouring the ground nearby for frogs, having insisted he’d heard some. I didn’t think there were any here, but it was keeping him occupied.

“There’s not much to say,” I answered, my gaze locked on the horizon. Rain fell in diagonal sheets, obscuring our surroundings to a dangerous degree.

“Don’t be like that,” he muttered.

“What do you want me to say, Finn? I had hope back there that-“ I cut myself off. Outside the cave, we had to be careful. “That we could save Gears. But it seems very unlikely that we could make any sort of difference.”

“But don’t you think it’s worth trying?”

I didn’t answer him, resuming my glaring. In truth, I saw no possible route for success with this plan. Maybe it was the arena getting to me, or maybe it was the hopelessness of it all, but to have a chance of getting all of us out of here seemed too far fetched. Besides, what would we do after we broke out? The Capitol would just catch us, kill us, and then go kill our families. And that was the best case scenario.

Finn ground his teeth, eyes flashing. He pushed back his sopping hair and stood, collecting his trident from the ground. Shoving away from the tree, he stooped to say something to Taddeo, and I snorted.

“Where are you going?” I called.

“Fishing. Good weather for it.” Taddeo trailed after him, casting a backwards glance at me.

Suddenly alone, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned my head back against the tree trunk. My bitter thoughts turned towards my mother and her own failed rebellion. More and more it felt as if I were walking in her footsteps, always somehow stumbling into her life. But I wasn’t like her. I never could be. She was stoic and strong, unbreakable and unrelenting. But still she’d remained kind. Somehow. I was no longer kind.

Flax’s blood was still under my fingernails.

And all of a sudden I was supposed to get out of here—to help people get out of here? I would never leave here. I could never leave here. I didn’t deserve to.

“It’s bullshit,” I muttered. “It’s all bullshit!” I was shouting now, raising my voice above the blustering rains. “Are you listening to me? I hate the Capitol and I hate this stupid arena, and the games—It’s all fake bullshit!

“None of this,” I shouted, furiously pointing to the grass around me, “is fucking real. It’s a stupid game for sick fucking people!” In my rage I’d risen, lifting my arms and jumping as if there were a camera in the sky. As if anyone could hear me then.

“Fuck.” I kicked the tree. Hard. Twice.

I was going to die here. Either at the hands of the careers, at the hands of alleged allies, or to a fucking mine. And if I didn’t die, my family did. It was a twisted kind of hope that Holly and Gears had given me.

The sob tore through me, unexpected and raw. With the rain pelting down around me, I couldn’t tell my own tears from the drops pooling on my cheeks. Fingers tore across my scalp, pulling at my hair and then scrubbing down my face. My stomach roiled, threatening to send my lunch back up.

Two figures emerged from the rain, and I wiped my face clean of any evidence of my tantrum. My foot gave a pitiful throb and I sniffed indignantly, ignoring it and cursing my idiocy.

“Hey,” I waved, squinting. An icy spear of fear slammed through my gut and I choked on my words. Those figures were roughly the same height, nowhere near as tall as Finn, and much taller than Taddeo. I scrambled back, searching for my bow and quiver. I wasn’t quick enough, and they were on me before I could nock the arrow.

Aster’s soaked red hair and blank expression gave me pause, maybe he wouldn’t-

He barreled into me. Despite being barely two inches taller than me, he rammed me back into the tree with a strength entirely unexpected.

“Didn’t you say she had-“ Iona, the other figure crouched nearby, rifling through my pack. Her words were cut off as I launched myself back at Aster. He only sidestepped me and sent me flying to the ground with a shove to my spine. My head cracked as my chin hit the ground. This type of a battering was doing nothing good for my temple wound either, and it gave an answering throb. My head felt like it was going to explode as I scrambled to turn over.

“Aster, there’s no medicine in here!” Iona shouted, gripping Aster by the arm. I hadn’t gotten a good look at her before, but now I saw it. A strange yellowish-pink rash had taken over half of her face, and was creeping across the other half. Tiny pustules had scabbed over, and one of the shoulders of her jacket had been ripped off completely. There was more of the rash there.

“Her companions must have it then,” Aster replied, scanning the area, no doubt looking for Finn and Taddeo.

“I don’t have anything,” I spat, finally struggling to my feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Iona. Her hair was falling out in clumps from the infected side of her head. Was it contagious, I wondered. Or had she eaten something? Been poisoned perhaps? It seemed like an extra layer of cruelty to introduce something like that rash into the arena. But the game makers were sick creatures.

Maybe I could negotiate with them, give them the dregs of that medicine in exchange for their help. I opened my mouth to offer when Iona drew a blade.

“Stop looking at me,” she growled. “Stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me!” She swung her knife at me and I ducked, the blade just barely missing my forehead. “You have no idea-“ she swung again, and I stepped to the side, sending a fist towards her good arm.

“I was going to offer-“ the knife nicked my arm this time and I grunted, clapping a hand over the cut. It wasn’t deep, but it was long, spanning my entire left bicep.

“You’re not better than me, Willow Mellark,” Iona growled, circling me. Aster seemed content to watch, and was busy taking what little food I had carried from my pack. “Your mother,” she spat that word like it was poison, “is the reason we’re in this arena. Your mother and her stupid berries.” She charged again, slashing down towards my head. I didn’t understand why she was saying this, she couldn’t possibly blame this whole thing on my mother. Celeste Snow and her Capitol had put us here!

I dodged this attack, managing to grab her arm and tug her off balance. I brought my knee up into her stomach with as much force as I could, and she let out a choking noise. Aster looked over at us, his face unreadable. I was struggling to believe that this was the same boy I’d felt sorry for just weeks ago. I’d held his hand before the tribute parade, tried my best to be kind to him.

Iona reared back, stumbling like a lame deer. I stayed where I was, torn between watching her and watching Aster. I kept my eyes from drifting in the direction Finn had gone. I had to protect him and Taddeo, though I wouldn’t have minded some help just then.

Aster stepped towards Iona, placing a hand on her shoulder as she heaved. I thought he would attack next, leaving Iona to recover. Instead, Iona launched at me, tackling me so hard to the ground that the knife glancing across my ribs only registered a second later.

I reacted purely on instinct, kicking Iona from me so hard that she went flying. Her body hit the ground with a thud, and she coughed. The knife was at my side, coated in my blood. I scrabbled for it, gritting my teeth through the pain as I got to my feet again.

Iona lay prone. The side of her face with the pustules had broken open, a grueling mixture of fluids tracking down her cut up cheek. The look of her stopped me in my tracks. It was as if her skin was rotting off.

“What are you waiting for? Kill her,” Aster shouted, drawing my attention. I panted, one hand at my bleeding side, the other wrapped around my knife. I thought he was shouting at Iona, but his gaze was fixed on mine.

“What?” I gasped out, stepping back from the girl on the ground. Her brows were scrunched in pain, and her eyes flashed with betrayal, but she barely moved, too tired or too hurt to.

“Fine. If you won’t, I will.” Iona groaned, shoving herself upright. Aster gripped her and tossed her, and she yelped. I stood rooted to the spot. What could I do? Could I save her?

“Please, Aster please,” she cried, trying to fight him off. He was stronger than her, and soon enough had his hands around her neck. She thrashed, desperate to get away.

“Just shut up and die,” he was so calm when he spoke. But I knew this was no mercy kill. He crushed her throat and stepped back, leaving her to choke on her own blood. And then he turned to me.

His eyes were so empty, so unfeeling.

Stunned, I could only shuffle back.

Iona had gone limp, her eyes fixed up to the sky where a single bird careened. I hoped that that bird had been her last sight, and not this arena. Not her killer. Not me.

The cannon sounded.

We moved at the same time, Aster towards me, and me away from him. I nearly slipped on Iona's blood on the way backwards. If there was one thing I knew then, it was that I would not survive a fight with Aster. Not in the condition I was in. Not with the way he'd fooled me. I had no idea what he was truly capable of.

Aster stilled. “Willow.”

“Why are you here,” I asked dumbly, blind with pain.

“We’ve been tracking you since you killed Flax. Iona wanted your medicine, but I want something else.” He shrugged. I gripped the knife tighter. If I could keep him talking, maybe Finn would come back before I was dead.

“What do you want?” I asked. My vision was blurry with the rain, and I had to blink rapidly to clear it. As I did, he took another step towards me.

“I want your parents to watch you die. And I want to be the one to do it. I want to win the Games, and get to look them in the eyes as I tell them how it felt to slip a knife between your ribs.”

My stomach dropped. He wanted to get revenge on my parents? For what?

“Why? They tried to help you-“ I cried, feeling a wave of nausea replace the pain in my side.

“They’re traitors!” He shouted back, his teeth flashing in the most savage display of emotion I’d ever seen from him. His pale face twisted as he spoke again. “Why do you think they put us in here? It’s all their fault!” Was he crying or was it just the rain? I couldn’t tell.

I floundered, unsure what to say. I wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity anyways, he was on me. His fist hit the gash in my ribs and I crumpled to my knees, screaming as pain shot through my body. I slashed out with the knife, but didn’t hit anything save open air.

In the distance, someone shouted, but Aster only kicked me in the spine, sending me tumbling forwards. The next kick was to my stomach, and I curled in on myself. The knife had fallen somewhere I couldn’t see. Through swimming vision, I could make out Aster’s foot as he approached again. He shoved my shoulder with his foot, rolling me onto my back.

The bird was still circling, closer now. It swooped in and out of the clouds, appearing and disappearing.

Red hair appeared in my vision, and Aster smiled down at me, my blood on his hands. He held the knife.

One moment, he was standing there, the next he wasn’t. There was a gurgle and a thunk, and then Finn was there, leaning over me.

“Willow, are you hurt?” For a moment I was struck by intense déjà vu. But then I came to my senses and nodded.

“Yes,” I panted, prying my hand from my side and revealing the slice. “Iona… got me… with the knife.” Finn blanched, peeling back my shirt to examine the wound. “Is it bad?” I knew the answer.

“It’s not great,” he said, stroking my hair back from my face. “But you’ll live, Willow. You’re going to live.” I let out a breath, letting my aching body go limp. There was a tearing noise, and then I felt fabric pressed up against my side. Groaning, I turned away, trying to block out the pain. Finn muttered an apology as he wound the fabric around my abdomen, looping it twice before tying it off.

“Aster? Where’s Taddeo?” I asked, looking up at Finn. I managed to get an elbow up under me, and began the arduous process of sitting up.

A cannon sounded, and Finn cast a gaze over his shoulder before looping an arm around my waist and lifting me to my feet. I was unsteady, but Finn held me up. When my vision was clear enough, I saw Aster on the ground. There was a trident protruding from his chest. It had gone straight through to the ground beneath him, thrown with such force that it had created a divot in his abdomen. I eyed Finn. His expression was carefully blank.

“And Taddeo?” I asked, turning away from the corpse.

“I told him to hide in the long grass just by the river when I heard you scream. When the cannon sounded, I thought-“ He shook his head. “We should get you somewhere safe.” He paused. “Safer, I mean.”

I nodded. We shouldn’t return to the cave with Holly and Gears. We could go back to the waterfall, but it was a long ways away.

“Where?” I leaned heavily on a tree as Finn went to retrieve his trident. The rain continued pouring, the pattering loud, but I could hear the distinct pop as Finn removed his weapon. I thought I heard him gag, but I couldn’t be sure. When he returned, he grabbed the pack and slung it over one shoulder, then he wrapped the other around me. I breathed deeply, focusing on moving and not on the pain.

“Taddeo and I found another cave, we were going to suggest camping there tonight. It isn’t far,” he assured. I nodded. I knew I was still high on adrenaline, and that was probably the only reason I was able to move right then. I couldn’t imagine the bruises I’d have. Either way, the only thing I could feel was grateful.

Notes:

I do love beating up my girl

Chapter 26: 25 - The Storm (Is Ending Soon)

Finn

As we made our way towards the river, my concern for Willow grew. Every few step she stumbled and her side was coated in blood. I could only pray that the salve we’d gotten was enough to repair the damage. When I’d examined her side, it had looked like sliced meat. I couldn’t be sure with the poor lighting, but I thought I’d seen bone at the bottom of the cut. Even with my limited medical knowledge, I knew she needed stitches.

“Is it much further?” She panted, blinking her dark hair out of her eyes. She was too pale.

“No. Just hold on, Willow.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. But her words came out breathy and hollow. I shook water from my eyes, pulling her along beside me. We reached the river quickly, just as the rain lapsed into a drizzle. It roared along beside us as I searched for the cave. The river had swelled with the downpour, and I prayed the cave had remained dry. It had been right on the river. Hopefully there would be no flooding.

“Finn! Over here!” A tinny voice called out, and a head popped out from behind a boulder. It was Taddeo, thank god. I lifted my trident, shuffling in that direction. Willow’s head lolled onto my shoulder and I had to hoist her upright, dragging her in the direction of the cave. Taddeo had rushed out to greet us, and stoically slipped beneath Willow’s other arm.

“Careful, she’s been wounded,” I said, gritting my teeth and focusing on not slipping.

“What happened?” His voice was small, but steady. He kept his steps even with mine, and together we ducked into the cave. It was concealed from sight by a boulder on each side, and dense earth on top. Inside it was small, but there was enough space for all of us to lie down.

“Iona and Aster. They’re dead.” I laid Willow at the far end of the cave. She only stirred slightly. “Pass me my pack!” I quickly lifted her shirt, undoing the makeshift bandage I’d secured around her abdomen. It was soaked on both sides, rainwater mixing with her blood. Taddeo crouched beside me, passing me the tin of salve. I pried it open, hopefully this would do the trick.

“Wait, wait, don;'t put that on. She needs stitches first,” Taddeo placed a hand on my arm, halting my movement.

“We haven’t got anything to stitch her with,” I hissed, trying to stay calm. In truth, I couldn’t seem to get enough air down, and my hands jolted with every heartbeat. My body was doped up on adrenaline, and I'd barely fought Aster.

“You can use her hair as a thread, that will work best. Just a second. Wait for me.” Taddeo ducked into the rain again, picking up Willow’s jacket from where it had been discarded on the floor.

Turning to watch the cave entrance, I could only keep a hand firmly on Willow’s still bleeding side. It would be a good idea to rinse it, at the very least. I blindly reached to the side. One of our canteens lay nearby, freshly filled and purified. Willow groaned when I poured the water over her side, her blue eyes fluttering open.

“You have got to stop dumping our drinking water on me,” she muttered.

“Then you need to stop picking fights with other tributes and almost dying,” I shot back, feeling nothing but relief that she was talking. She was still dreadfully pale, but consciousness was a good sign.

“They attacked me!” She protested, turning her icy gaze to glare at me. My heart froze over. “You left me alone.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, and yet my own guilt struck me so hard I stopped breathing.

“I know. I’m sorry, Willow.” She was silent, blinking up at me. I should have said something more. Her eyes flicked to the cave entrance.

“I got it!” Taddeo sprinted through the opening, clutching something between two fingers. It looked like some sort of tiny spike.

“What is that?” Willow lifted her head, straining against my hand as I tried to keep her down.

“Acacia thorn! We can use it as a needle,” he said proudly, once again coming to squat beside me. “I just need a strand of your hair. Maybe two.”

Looking absolutely as baffled as I felt, Willow reached up to her head. “I guess I have plenty to spare…” She plucked several, delicately passing them to Taddeo. The boy ran more of our clean water over his thorn before taking the tip of Willow’s pin and poking a hole in the base of the thorn. Then he wound Willow’s hair through it.

“You know what you’re doing, huh?” I scooted aside to make room for him as he bent over Willow’s side.

“Yeah. My dad’s a medic, from Thirteen. But he settled in Nine before- Anyways he taught me a lot. For instance,” Willow gasped as he began threading the needle through her flesh, “without sanitized thread, the best option is your own hair. Your body will recognize it as yours and it won’t reject it. It makes it a bit safer.”

“Clever,” Willow ground out, one hand scrabbling on the ground. I grabbed her other hand, squeezing softly.

“Once it’s stitched, we can put that salve on, and it will heal a whole lot better. If we put the salve on before closing the wound it wouldn’t heal right,” Taddeo continued talking while he worked. Each time the makeshift needle pierced her skin, Willow flinched. It probably would’ve been easier for her if she’d been unconscious, but I was optimistic about her being conscious enough to hold a conversation.

When I’d first seen her lying prone before Aster, I had thought for sure she was dead and I was too late. Especially after that cannon had sounded. I’d acted on instinct alone, hurling my trident so hard that it had- well it had collapsed the boy’s diaphragm completely. I’d nearly been sick at the sight of it. But Willow was alive. And she was going to stay that way.

Taddeo leaned back, examining his work. The stitches were surprisingly even. The dark strands of her hair stood out against her flesh, but the gash in her side was bleeding less. In fact, it already looked less scary than it had just a moment ago. Taddeo once again rinsed the area with our clean water, and Willow huffed something about her drinking water again.

“Now the salve,” he said, shuffling aside. I realized he meant for me to do it, since I still held the tin. I was almost afraid as I began spreading the salve across the area. Her skin was hot to the touch, swollen and angry. However, she seemed to sigh in relief as the minty tincture worked its way into the wound.

“Thank you. Both of you,” she said after a long few moments, propping herself up on her elbows and looking at us both. “I mean it,” she met my gaze and held it. Taddeo grinned before ducking his head and scuttling out to rinse his bloodied hands in the river.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” I asked, fishing the remaining bandages out of my pack. We were running concerningly low, but I’d been lucky enough to find them in the pack in the first place.

“Not yet.” She shook her head. Her shirt was in tatters, and she removed the remains of it completely. There was a large slice along one of her biceps, but it had already scabbed over. There were scabs across her stomach, and bruising down her spine.

“I must look pretty rough for you to stare at me like that,” she frowned, the amusement in her tone forced.

“No worse than me,” I ground out, focusing on unwinding a portion of the bandage to wrap around her ribs. She only grunted in pain once as I wrapped the bandage tight. I knew without Taddeo’s guidance that it was important to keep wounds secure.

“Spare shirt?” I offered. It was technically for the explosives, but I doubted it would do much anyways. We could use the bloody one for the explosives, and Willow had more use of it now anyways. She’d freeze to death in just that Capitol issued bra. I looked away as she pulled it over her head, scraping together some semblance of decency. I frowned with the realization that all of Panem could see us right then, so modesty was completely irrelevant anyways.

“Help me up?” Her voice was rough around the edges, but strong, insistent. I was going to tell her that she shouldn’t move around too much, that she should rest, but the look in her eye told me she’d fight me. Instead I stood and offered her an arm. “You know I got the weirdest sense of déjà vu back there,” she said lightly.

When I didn’t answer, she elbowed me in the side. “What is it?”

What could I say? How could I explain that it was all my fault? That I should have protected her? That I’d been scared she was going to die again? She’d been fighting to survive, and all the while I’d been off gallivanting in the river with Taddeo. The one thing our parents had told us to do was stay together, and I’d abandoned her.

“Finn?”

“I’m sorry for abandoning you.”

Her eyes widened slightly. Then she was shaking her head, “you came back, though. So you didn’t.”

“I did, though. What was the one thing that our parents said? Stay together,” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the crown of my skull. My self loathing was reaching new levels.

“Finn, you can’t blame yourself. Besides, they’d been following me since day one, apparently.” She scoffed, tucking her loose hair behind her ear. “They were just waiting for an opportunity. Well, Aster was. He really hated me, you know.”

“I didn’t know that, how were they-“ Willow shoved an elbow into my side again and I choked. Taddeo was waving at us from within the rainstorm.

“Later,” she whispered, lifting a hand to wave back.

That night was spent tucked into the cave. All of us were damp and uncomfortable, and the rain just kept on coming. Thankfully, the cave was high enough on the riverbank that it didn’t seem at risk of flooding. At least for now. But with the nightly freeze the rain turned to sleet, and I found myself squeezed next to Willow, with Taddeo on her other side. We were sharing the two thermal blankets we had. If I’d been thinking, I would’ve grabbed Aster and Iona’s supplies. Then at least each of us could’ve had a blanket. But Taddeo was satisfied that we were warmest bundled up together.

We’d eaten whatever was left in the packs, which hadn’t been much, and I was just settling into my watch. Willow was already asleep, her head tucked down agains her chest.

There was a whirring noise from behind me, ever so slight, and I turned to examine it. There, in the darkness, a tiny red light. A camera. So small, you’d miss it without full darkness. I shifted to get a better look at it, but something else beeped.

From outside, a melodic chiming signaled the arrival of a parachute. We’d been given a sponsor gift. I shifted out from beneath the blanket, careful not to disturb Willow. I scooped up the parachute before it touched the ground. It was cold, but the sleet had lightened, leaving just enough moonlight to see by.

I popped the compartment open, examining the contents. There was a note, as always. It said simply thank you. Somewhat confuse, I tucked the note into my pocket, revealing the gift. Laying on a bed of foam sat a silver fishing hook, feathers fastened around the top. Around it a string coiled, but I was more impressed with the craftsmanship of the hook itself. There was no stressed metal from where it was bent. The hook gleamed, sharp and barbed. It was flawless, as if I’d made it myself. No doubt it had come from Four.

“What is it?” Willow hissed from the back of the cave. I turned, startling slightly. I had thought she was asleep.

“A fishing hook,” I replied, lifting it up to the moonlight. I wondered what the connection between the hook and the note was as I shuffled back to my spot. The answer struck me as Taddeo burrowed in closer to Willow, breathing evenly in sleep. We had spent half the rainstorm fishing together. He had talked about his home, and me mine. Maybe it was from his family, this gift clearly meant for me. Smiling softly into the darkness, I picked a loose thread from my jacket and looped it through the hook before securing it to my trident.

“You want to tell me what happened today?” I asked her as she rested her head against the cave wall. We sat in silence for long enough that I thought she was just going to ignore me, but she finally spoke up.

“I was just angry. When you left I just needed to do something, scream.” She spoke in a whisper. “At first I thought it was you and Taddeo coming back, and then it was too late. I don’t know how long they’d been following us, but they saw us get that medicine.”

“What happened to Iona’s face?”

“I have no idea. Some sort of infection. It’s what she wanted the medicine for, but I don’t know anything more.”

The implications of Iona’s infection left me queasy. Had it been something she’d eaten? Or not eaten, even. Sometimes fisherfolk back in Four would get sick with hives if they hadn’t eaten fresh food in a long time. Scurvy it was called. But that’s not what Iona had.

“Did you touch her?” I asked, fearing the answer.

“Yes.” My stomach dropped. “But Aster looked fine, and they’ve been together since the start of the Games.” She was right about that, and I relaxed a bit. Whatever had happened to Iona, it was unlikely to spread to us.

Willow grunted in pain as she shifted, her hand flying to her side beneath the blanket. My heart stuttered.

“Alright?” I asked, feeling my brows pull down.

“Fine. Just got stabbed in my side, which if you didn’t know, hurts like hell.” Her sardonic tone eased my worries slightly. If she was well enough to be making quips, she would live to see the sunrise. Still, I could try to make her more comfortable.

“Here, lean on me. It will put less strain on your side.” I ignored the heat in my cheeks, even as I swore her face was turning red. And she argued less than I thought she would, only sighing once before shifting slowly so that her spine was against my side. I tucked my arm around her shoulders, careful not to jostle her. Willow gently placed Taddeo’s head in her lap, tucking his blanket tight around him. Then she was nestled in next to me, rigid and tense.

I could have told her to relax, that I wasn’t going to hurt her, but I was also tense, afraid to breathe for fear of her moving.

“Finn?” Willow whispered. My eyes met hers. “If we can’t do what we need to, Taddeo lives.” Pain shot through me, but I nodded. We would make sure Taddeo made it out of here, no matter what.

Before I could stop myself, I pressed a soft kiss to her temple. We still needed to try. She still needed to have hope. My words were whispered against her skin, too low for the cameras to pick up.

“We will get out of here.”