321A/N- Okay, everyone has seriously shocked me with their amazing reviews. I don't think that I've ever had so many nice things said about any one of my stories, like ever. Thank you so much to everyone who's already favorited the story, and especially to those who have reviewed.
Now, just one quick little comment. This chapter may seem to be going a little fast, but most of this chapter is catching up on rebel activity, and then a little bit that leads into the next chapter, hopefully. This also contains my first Finnick/Katniss talk, and I'd like to hear what you think about how I pulled it off.
Alright, I'm done babbling. Please enjoy.
Over the next few months, I get letters, mostly from Haymitch and Heavensbee, but there were a few from Johanna, one from Chaff. As time passed, instead of just knowing there was a plan, the details took place, and even though what it was saying made me impossibly nervous, I was also thrilled with everything that the details revealed.
First, outside the arena, within that week of training and the interviews, the Victors act friendly, show district unity. It's a little blow, but Snow will be analyzing everything. I myself am actually kind of eager to see what innocent little Katniss Everdeen's opinion of me is, seeing as the only idea she'd have of me is that I'm a Capitol loving piece of filth, and since I'll probably be required to act the part when I'm in the Capitol, she'll get to feel the full force of Finnick Odair's charms.
By the night of the interviews, people are supposed to realize that things are a little different. Then, our interviews we're supposed to make people question the Capitol, create dissent, by saying things that seem innocent and unplanned, but that will have the citizens of the Capitol going crazy. I, for instance, have decided to write a poem in which I pour my heart out to my biggest love in the Capitol. Yeah, it's cheesy, but every female in the crowd will think I'm talking about them, and freak out because I'll die, and they'll never have me. Which is the idea, the not liking what Snow has done. Not only will it put doubts in their head about the president's greatness, but the thing should give the Districts some confidence as well.
After that, in the arena, everything gets more complicated. I'm not exactly sure of everything, hell, they haven't told me hardly anything, but I have the basic gist of the plan. At first, it's easy enough. They want me and one of several possible geniuses from District 3, to team up with Katniss if possible. They aren't worried about her befriending any of the nerds from Three, but almost everyone guesses that she isn't going to trust me, and they need her to.
With Plutarch, we know about the arena, and even though he didn't tell us too much, enough to make our knowledge of the place obvious, he did say that most of it was going to be water. Thinking of that, there was a general consensus that it'd be wise for me to watch her. Haymitch has no idea if she can even swim, and then even if she can, there are a whole lot of other things I can help with, like food. In addition to the arena being filled with water, I'm also the best option. After how decisively I won my Games, everyone agree that I'm the best option to serve as her bodyguard.
So that's easy. I go in, I make sure Katniss doesn't die. Even if it costs me my life, because really, how much of a life do I have if the Mockingjay dies?
Then, things get more complicated. I know that one of those people from Three is going to do something to help us out of the arena, but I haven't gotten any details, and I wouldn't understand them if I did, so I just know that somehow, Plutarch is confident in getting us out.
The exact moment when this is going to happen, when they're going to be ready to pick us up and whisk us off to District Thirteen, is going to be communicated to us through bread our sponsors pay for. The District it comes from is to say the day, the number of rolls the hour. When we get the bread, whoever gets in from Three is going to throw his plan into action, hopefully the rebels will be waiting outside the arena, and then we'll all get away, or hopefully the majority of us anyway. Most importantly, Katniss, or if Peeta goes in, then him too.
Because that's another part of the plan that I'm confused about. Katniss apparently told Haymitch that he's supposed to get Peeta out alive no matter what. So we guess that if he dies, she'll refuse to cooperate. Because of this, if he gets into the arena, I'm not just on protect Katniss duty, but I have to protect her boyfriend/fiancé/guy that she duped, if I want her to stay in an alliance long enough to protect her.
And that's the brilliant plan. Keep those two alive, do something to blow up the arena, and run away to District Thirteen, all with little flashes of rebellion thrown in between.
Yeah, it's shaky, and I don't even know most of the finer details, because all these letters have needed to be hand delivered at a time when communication through the districts has been nearly impossible, so there have only been a few, and even those few have needed miracles to not get intercepted, but I guess Plutarch has ways. And yeah, it's sad, but I'm getting to trust those ways enough that now, standing around at the Reaping, I'm not at all worried about going back.
I'm just scared as hell at the prospect of Annie coming with me.
The mayor, who I still can't look at without intense hate, gives his usual speech on the dark days, and it's funny, because the way he's talking makes it sound like he has no clue that the nation is rebelling, that District 4 already has.
Then the mayor is done, and Alva is making her way to the women's ball, a ridiculously orange wig on her head. She reaches inside, taking a few seconds to get a hand on one of the four slips of paper. Then, she looks directly at me, and I instinctively reach for my belt, where I still store my knife after ten years.
"Annie Cresta," she says, and I can hear the pity in her voice. My hand grips the hilt, but I don't take it out, because killing Alva won't do anything. It's Snow who needs to go down, but at the moment, that's not an option.
So I stand there in numb shock as I watch Annie scream and cry, and not get any closer to the stage. Then Mags gently takes her arm and whispers something, and Annie goes, still shaking and hysterical.
I realize what Mags whispered when she steps up and volunteers herself.
If Annie were to go in, I could protect her easily. She's smart enough and still strong enough that it would have been possible.
But Mags going in is sentencing herself for death.
My throat closes, and I can feel the tears coming, but for the first time in a long time, I'm on required viewing in Panem, and the cameras are going to be all on me in just a few moments, so I take a deep breath and try to look cocky and like a general ass, because that's what the county knows me as. I think that I manage, but no matter how stony my face looks, my insides are crumbling. When I was in shock just seconds ago, Mags's little stunt has gotten my head working again, and not for the better. What has just happened hits me full force, and the moment replays in my mind at warpspeed, and I feel my heart break, and the anger, and the pain flood me in just a matter of seconds. But, because I have to, I bite everything I'm feeling back, and I turn my attention back to the stage.
Alva makes a weak comment about bravery to Mags, then hurriedly runs to the guy's ball, trying to salvage the mood after an eighty year old woman kind of ruined the competitiveness from the female side of the district. She reaches in and grabs the name, and again she looks at me sadly, and when she reads my name, all that I think is at least I don't have to volunteer.
I strut to the stage with a smile on my face, and look out at the watching crowd like I'm thrilled to be back.
And although I'd never admit it to anybody, the adrenaline flowing through my veins tells me that I kind of actually am.
After the Reaping, I expect to go to the Justice Building, and probably just sit with Annie for the hour, to hold her and assure her that I'll make it out alive, and then kiss her goodbye. I don't even get to see her. Peacekeepers load us into a car, and then take us directly to the train station.
"What the hell?" I ask, loudly enough so that the driver of the car can hear.
"New procedure, especially for the Quell," he says uncaringly, like he doesn't realize that I just left Annie, for what may very well be the last time. Even if I make it out, who's to say that she'll get to Thirteen? And that's if I don't die protecting Katniss. Now, I may never see her again.
I didn't even say good-bye.
Mags, like she knows what I'm thinking, takes my hand.
"Don't worry. You will make it back to her."
I just shake my head.
When we load the trains, this time there are no camera crews waiting to eat up my face. I have to wonder about that, but don't complain, because I know that there's no way that my emotions are completely hidden anymore.
The train ride seems short, but that's probably because I've already taken it what seems like hundreds of times. Going to my Games, to mentor, on my 'visits'. Really, it's probably only been thirty or so times, but it still feels like something that I do every day.
Once we're in the Capitol, I head off to my room in the Remake Center without being told, and my prep team is sitting there, already waiting for me. At first, I don't notice anything different, not until the two of them run over and throw their arms around me, crying and sobbing. This isn't good. It took me most of the train ride to pull myself together, and now they're threatening to tear me apart all over again.
"Uh, guys? Are you okay?"
"You're going to die," Hermia cries. I detach myself from the two of them as gently as possible.
"No, I'm not. I survived my first Games when I was fourteen. Now, I'm ten years older, and going against a bunch of old coots," I flinch when I think of Mags, but I really do need to get these two to shut up before they get too annoying. Or make me start thinking about the idea that I really will die. "So despite what you guys think, I'm not going to die."
"But-" I sigh.
"Please, just get to work. I don't want to see you guys crying."
Thankfully they listen to me. Like I'm already painfully used to, they get to work 'taking full advantage of my absolute perfection'. Their words. Not mine.
When my nails are polished, my skin lathered in a plethora of toxic smelling lotions, and my tousled hair combed, then messed up in a more attractive way, they leave to get Sylvia. As soon as she comes in, I can read on her face that something is wrong. I groan, having a good guess at just what it is. Last time when I was here, I was a kid, and kids wear pretty costumes. Now, Snow is more or less my pimp, and it's just like selling a car. You've got to show off the nicer points.
"Snow wants me dressing like I'm acting in a porno, doesn't he?" She nods stiffly.
"You have a reputation to uphold," she says.
"Do your worst. I suppose that there isn't much of me the Capitol hasn't already seen anyway." She gives me a weak laugh.
"I'd love to find something that actually embarrasses you." I shrug. Thinking of Annie's parents, no doubt I will be embarrassed. Just not for the reasons that a person would expect.
"Now, how bad is it, exactly?"
It isn't that horrible. Not that horrible. Nothing unnecessary is showing. I only feel like I'm walking out in front of everybody completely naked, even if you can't technically say that I am.
At least when I walk over to District Seven's chariot to talk with Johanna, a pile of sugar cubes stacked in my hand, she's wearing a tree. I'm not sure which is worse. A fishing net, or… whatever she has on.
"Ah, I see. The year of the incompetent stylists," she says, taking one of the cubes. They're for the horses, but I remember Felix mentioning a kid getting in trouble for stealing them during his Games, so I took a few to see if some attendant would start cussing me out. So far, nothing. They are pretty good, though. "Did you see what they did to Blight? He's got an axe in his head." I laugh, then realize she's not kidding.
"You're serious? I think Haymitch could be a better stylist." She laughs, then shakes her head.
"Yeah, that'd just be wonderful. But I suppose it's better than getting stuck in a fishing net. Although I guess at least you get to look good." I roll my eyes.
"Johanna, haven't you figured out by now that I always look good?" Giving another sigh, she shakes her head.
"I cannot believe you." I smile, then catch a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my eye. When I turn to look at who it is, my eyes widen.
"Shit. I think you spoke too early about incompetent stylists. Katniss looks better than I do, and she's not even half naked."
"Got a crush?"
"Yeah…" I look at her, standing there all by herself, and think of my thoughts earlier, about how fun it'd be to mess with her. "Actually, I think I'm going to go flirt when he fiancé is absent. Maybe get her to meet up with me later."
"Have fun," she calls, and I walk over to where Katniss is standing, nervously sticking to the side of her chariot. I pop another sugar cube into my mouth, and she must hear me, because she turns around at about the same time I'm about to tap her shoulder. I have to grin at the way I can see her words catch in her throat. Throwing another cube in my mouth, I lean back against one of her sleek black horses.
"Hello, Katniss," I purr, using my most 'Capitol' voice.
"Hello, Finnick." She manages to sound casual, but I can see her eyes. She wants to move away, but won't let herself back down.
"Want I sugar cube?" I ask, holding out my hand. "They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I… well, if we see something sweet, we better grab it quick."
"No thanks," she says. "I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime, though." I have to laugh. I can see why Haymitch is so attached to her. She's got herself a nice touch of his attitude, which is clear in that brilliant display of sarcasm. I have to wonder if she isn't some long lost daughter of his. They even look alike. I want to smile and point this out to her, but Snow wouldn't want me bantering with the Mockingjay. No, he'd be much more happy if I were flirting with her, and actually, I think that'd be more entertaining anyway.
"You're absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?"
"I outgrew them," she says. I can feel her getting more uncomfortable, then figure that I might as well have as much fun with this as possible. I take the collar of her outfit and run it between my fingers, trying not to smile when I feel her quit breathing. "It's too bad about this Quell thing. You could have made out like a bandit in the Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted."
Like she would have. If it wasn't for the Quell, she'd just get killed off some other way, Snow would make sure of that. But I want to hear her reply.
"I don't like jewels, and I have more money than I need. What do you spend all yours on, anyway, Finnick?" she asks.
"Oh, I haven't dealt in anything as common as money for years."
"Then how do you pay for the pleasure of your company?" Ah, if only I had to pay. A hell of a lot better than getting sold. I pretend not to notice what she's implying, knowing that it's what it'd seem like to any outsider. Instead, I lean in slightly closer, feeling her tense up.
"With secrets." Tipping my head forward, so that my lips almost touch hers, I continue. "What about you, girl on fire? Do you have any secrets worth my time?"
If the look in her eyes didn't make me want to laugh, it would have been the blush that was creeping across her cheeks. It's funny, how easily I can get even the girl on fire to become nervous. I don't laugh, though, because that would only ruin the fun.
"No, I'm an open book," she whispers back. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."
How accurate, and a perfect response. That actually gets me to smile.
"Unfortunately, I think that's true." I see someone approaching, and unfortunately notice that her fiancé is coming to ruin my fun. I contemplate staying here to mess with him, but I've seen him in interviews, and he always has perfect control over his words. It wouldn't be nearly as fun as Katniss. "Peeta is coming. Sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that much be for you."
Then I toss another sugar cube in my mouth and walk away, thinking that Katniss is probably happy about the wedding getting cancelled, because I doubt that she wanted it in the first place.
Very soon after my conversation with the girl on fire, the first chariot leaves, so I have to hustle to return to mine. Mags is already there waiting for me, and doesn't even look my way when I take my place beside her. By that point, I'm starting to feel immense déjà vu. At first, the styling and everything, was normal, a routine I've been through dozens of times. But getting on the chariot again messes with my head horribly, especially because now it's not Arowana, who was the epitome of youth and beauty, but a woman who's already lived eighty years in a life that most would have given up on before they turned twenty. After all that, you'd think that she'd at least earn a peaceful death, but now, Snow has taken even that away from her.
"Hold my hand," I tell her, not because I don't think she can stay standing, but because thinking about her imminent death is too much, and it seems like maybe if I hang on tightly enough now, then she won't leave me so soon. Stupid, yes, but also the only thing that I know to do.
When the District 4 chariot comes out, there's some cheering, but not like last time. Now, they know me, they're used to me, and Mags' presence probably isn't thrilling to them. No, this time, they want to play with their new toys, which is evident when they start cheering and hollering as the District Twelve chariot appears on the giant screen above us.
Young. Beautiful. Strong. Unlike so many of the other victors who are all but wasting away. Even Mags, who's easily the oldest, is in better shape than the ones who turned to alcohol and drugs to keep them going.
Even I admit that they're better than me. Sure, they don't have my 'absolute perfection', but they also don't have a loaded history, paired with a costume that only weak-minded females wouldn't be put off by.
Throughout the chariot rides, and up into President Snow's speech, all eyes are on them. Even I have trouble looking away. The pair of them are unreal. I don't know what it is, but I think that if I'd see Katniss Everdeen or Peeta Mellark on the street, even with Cinna's clothes, I'd think they were decent looking, nothing special. Admittedly, nothing that could compare to myself.
But together, they're more stunning than I could ever be. They fit each other perfectly. The sweetness in his blue eyes, and the ferocity in her gray ones. His size and strength, her slenderness and speed. Blonde hair and nearly black. Smiles and jokes, glares and sarcastic retorts. Opposites in every way, and yet, it's as if they were made for each other. I can hardly believe that they wouldn't fall in love immediately, but from snippets of what Haymitch had been telling me, apparently she has a thing for her 'cousin' instead. I guess I don't know, and I really don't want to get any deeper into it than I have to.
After Snow's speech, everyone circles the arena one more time, and then we get to return to our floors on the remake center. I notice Johanna get into an elevator with the two of them and smile to myself. Knowing Johanna, that is going to end up being very, very interesting.
"You're sure happy for someone who's going back to hell." I turn around and see Chastity coming up from behind me. My eyes widen in surprise.
"Fancy seeing you here," I tell her, leaning against the wall and smiling flirtatiously for the cameras.
"I'm mentoring," she says. My smile fades just a little when I think of her uncle.
"Mentoring Chaff? I'm sorry. That has to suck." She shrugs.
"It's not like I'm not used to death. If he dies, it'll just be another one." I come to the conclusion that she's taught herself not to love. I can actually see it in her eyes. Before, I'd just thought that she hid her emotions, but now, with one of her family members in such danger, she's completely apathetic. How… strange. But maybe that is a good idea. Despite all the good that comes with loving Annie, there's a hell of a lot of bad as well. I can't change it now, though, so I guess thinking about it is just a waste of time.
"Well, I guess you have a point there. So, have you talked to the girl on fire?" I ask.
"No. I haven't, and I have no interest in doing so." I want to talk to her a little more, just because I do like her. Kind of. But I can tell that she doesn't feel the same way, and some attendants are coming over to us anyway. It's clear that they don't want us to keep talking, so I tell her good-bye and head back towards the elevators.
Mags is waiting up when I get there, and I know that we should be watching recaps of everything, but I'm not interested. I give her the best smile I can manage, then head straight to my room to put on actual clothes. When I'm changed, I go back out to where Mags is sitting and put a hand on her arm.
"I'm getting something to eat. You want me to grab you something too?" I ask softly. She looks back at me, and I can't tell if she's really looking at me or not. It's kind of scary, the far off look in her eyes.
She mumbles something about not being hungry, and I take a shaky breath before walking away, trying not to think about how she isn't really alive anymore anyway.