2Here's a short drabble request I did for my writing blog on Tumblr. I was asked to write about Finnick & Annie's reaction to a public execution.
I wrote it a while ago, but I still like how it came out so I wanted to put it here.
-Em
It doesn't happen often, but that isn't to say that it's something that never occurs.
He's gone through his life as a witness to about seven executions: the first when he was so little he could barely see over the crowd as clutched his mother's soft fingers, her dress flowing in the wind and brushing against him every so often. The last one he'd seen, he had grown to be taller than her.
(If she were still around to compare, that is.)
Now it's not his mother's fingers he clutches as the crowd files into the square, their faces whiter than the feathers that fall off the gulls that sweep over the town. These fingers are tinier than his own, as if reminding him of the owner's fragility.
But he doesn't like to think of Annie as fragile.
Never.
She's the strongest person he's ever met. To wake up and face her own demons is something that most people can't do, but she accomplishes this feat almost all on her own.
(However, that doesn't mean he can forget how close to the edge she teeters, especially at times like this.)
She's quiet as they weave through the mass of bodies, and it sets him on edge. He wants to stay as far in the back as he can, but one of the "perks" of being a Victor means front row seating to pretty much everything, executions included.
They stop only when the rope that separates the gallows from the crowd makes them. They stand right beside Mags, whose face is solid as stone and careful not to convey any emotion.
Normally, such great lengths for public executions aren't taken. Usually, they are done as quick decisions, performed on the spot for who ever happened to be walking by. He'd seen about four of those, and they're the worst feelings, to be going to the market only to have to witness a person's death.
(Though he'd never admit it to her, it's the reason he makes sure to join Annie whenever she feels like she can handle going into town.)
Despite this, however, this particular execution was scheduled. Letters were sent out and women, children, and men were forced to leave their homes to watch.
Finnick didn't care to know what the penalty was - he's hoping since the District is going through such great lengths to make a show of it, that it's a somewhat deserving crime; murder, possibly even rape.
(But the whispers among the crowd reveal it was theft of some sort.)
He tries to ignore the eyes that are trained on Annie; absorbing the "Crazy Girl's" reaction to this kind of thing. Instead, he squeezes his fingers around her and tugs her closer to him, kissing her hair as she relaxes against his shoulder. Her breath is raspy and he knows she's trying to fight herself. So, he does what he does best: get her out of her own head.
"Look at that gull up there, he has something in his mouth." He whispers to her, and her eyes flicker upwards, watching the bird circle around and around.
"He does," her voice his brittle, but she's responding so it's alright, "I wonder what it could be?"
"Maybe it's got bread and is going to feed its little baby seagulls."
She smiles to the sky, "Maybe."
"I remember when I was little, maybe 8 or 10, and I was walking along the beach," His lips touch her ear, reserving this story for only her, "I had come across a seagull nest in the sea rocks, by the water. There weren't any babies in it, though, just feathers. However, as I got closer, I noticed it had a weird collection of small mirrors and rings and tin cans."
"Really?" Her voice is more stable now, absorbed into what he's saying.
He nods, "Oh, yeah. I asked my mother about it later, and she said seagulls like shiny objects. They collect them to attract a mate."
She bites her lip for a moment, absorbing this information, "It had rings you said, right?"
"Almost a whole jewelry box full of them."
"It's almost like it was proposing to the other seagulls." Her voice sounds dreamy now, enraptured by the idea.
"I bet it had a beautiful seagull wedding." He comments and she laughs quietly, and this time it's a relief to hear despite the dirty looks they're given by the crowd because of it, "And that seagull over there? He probably was there."
"I bet he was!" She stares up at the bird, her eyes following it as it glides through the blue sky. He watches her and warmth spreads through his heart.
(He almost forgets why they're there until the mayor calls everyone's attention and his mood breaks like a mirror.)
He speaks to the crowd but it's just gibberish to Finnick as he feels Annie's fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, the allusion of the seagull wedding melting in a puddle at their feet. Now he must switch roles from story weaver to support system, for he can feel how shaky the breaths she's taking by the quiver in her back.
The speech that he supposes is the mayor's way of trying to justify the Capitol's actions ends as the accused person is forced into view.
She stumbles forward, her tattered skirt brushing against her calves as Peacekeepers push her. Her hair is a mass of red curls and her expression is wild, her face hallow. Finnick represses a groan at how young she looks, no older than seventeen and obviously starving.
She's a thief to the eyes of the Capitol.
(But to Finnick - from the loose fit of her shift to the brittle shape of her wrists - she's just hungry.)
Someone in the quiet crowd bursts out into loud sobs, and he makes the mistake of looking over to see, because it's obviously going to be her family. They're distinct in the red of their hair and the same malnourished body that comes with hunger. Their eyes, however, aren't as fierce as her own, which cast around the crowd with an intense gaze that screams "See me, recognize me, remember me."
She knows the same thing that everyone else in the crowd knows: she's being punished for surviving.
Annie squeaks and his arms slip around her waist, tethering her to the ground before she floats away.
(Or, maybe, before he does.)
They pull the girl to the post that holds the rope, slipping the noose around her slender neck as she stands on a tall stool. Her eyes like glass, and he swears she's staring right at him, pleading for help that he cannot give. The mayor begins the speech that will end her life, reading from sweat-smudged cue cards that he pulls from his shirt pocket.
"Norma Goodwin, you are charged with theft of Capitol property. Because you stole and have been harboring recourses that belong to the Capitol, your crime calls for the death penalty. You will now be hanged to pay for what you had done wrong. Your death will also be used as a message for the people of District 4. Do you have any last words?" Finnick watches as his hands shakes as he stuffs the cue cards back into his pocket.
Norma stares at him, her shoulders pulling back and her legs locking as she puffs herself up. That stance, with the combination of her wild red hair and stern set in her eyes, gives her the appearance of a lit flame. The mayor shrinks under her gaze.
"It is because of you, that my family will now starve."
The mayor swallows and Finnick's eyes widen as he nods slowly in response. Annie's fingers pull his shirt tighter in her palms, the collar pressing against the back of his neck as a result. The sobs don't stop, and whispers brush past him in the air.
The head Peacekeeper, a roughed up bastard by the name of Vaughn, kicks the stool out from beneath Norma's feet without warning and she falls, the rope suspending her into the air.
Annie cries out and he pushes her into his side, her body shaking hard as Finnick's arms circle her and hold her together.
The seagull flying above screams.