because the broken and the beaten too can learn to love again. finnickannie — for lily!

prompts (3-4); "you saved me from myself," salted caramel hot chocolate, nordic sweaters, lorde

pairing; finnickannie

dedication; lily (indie misery) hope you like it ily lils

disclaimer — i'm just a thirteen year old girl who likes odesta and writing.

so it said it was unknown how exactly finnick and annie knew each other, whether it was before he mentored her or what, so i added this little twist thing because it seemed right at that time, i dunno. this revolves around annie, and i've tried to put myself into her shoes as much as i can. yeah. sorry. /nods formally i'm open to any and all points(?) of criticism. c:

i tried to add a little fluff, i swear, but sorry for killing the christmas spirit guys. i didn't mean to. i attempted to make the ending fluffy but it ended up not so happy sorry. :3

merry christmas, though! i hope you all had an amazing christmas. happy holidays!

—beta'd by the amazing and awesomesauce jo (mystiques)


we're dancing in this world alone, world alone, we're all alone.

lorde

A little girl leaps off her swing, soaring into the sky and flies over meadows, mountains and oceans before landing gently on the grass, a giggling mess.

Her green eyes, a shade deeper than that of the grass, are ablaze with the innocence and naïve wonder of a child; she is yet to be touched by the problems and harsh reality of the world she will one day be forced to accept. Reflected in her eyes is the iridescent sun and the meadow, shining with early morning dewdrops — but such picturesque scene is a cruel contrast to the sorrowful day that awaits District Four.

In a few hours, two slips of paper will be cast from a ballot, each paper baring a single name. These names represent the tearing apart of two families, the event of two children being sent to fight for their survival (with the overbearing chance of them both dying), two children being sent to kill.

But Annie doesn't know, she is still only a child.


At twelve, Annie meets a boy with sandy bronze hair and eyes that remind her of the sea when it's calm and still, and his crooked smile brings back memories of her brother and the stories he would tell her. He likes to swim and so does she. He also likes the salted caramel hot chocolate they serve at celebrations and so does she so they end up talking, wounding up as friends in the strangest of ways.

"Don't you ever want to just jump into sea and swim away?" He asks her one day, and she's surprised at the density of his question because she has never thought of him as more than another pretty face.

"I wouldn't mind sinking into the sea either, going down with the waves." She confesses, eyes fixed on the moving sand.

He's silent for sometime and Annie wonders if she shouldn't have been so upfront (she barely even knows him) but he just laughs and cracks a joke like he always does. "I know you're not as amazing as me at swimming but I'm sure you can manage to stay afloat."

She doesn't realize how much Finnick Odair has grown on her until it's her third reaping day and it's his name that Felicity Glow calls out in her sugary voice while Annie feels like crying because this is terrible, horrible, just like the concept of the Hunger Games. She's barely known him for two years and HE'S GOING TO DIE—

He doesn't. It's been two weeks and Finnick returns, battered and bruised but completely alive. He has a toothy grin but he shouldn't be smiling at all because Annie has seen the Games and they are brutal, full of bloodshed and people (teenagers just like them) have died, far too young to have their lives ended in such a cruel way. He's only fourteen but he has killed people, she saw him on the television, how much older and different he looked while plunging his trident into another Career, almost mercilessly, she thinks.

The games have changed him and it's for the worse.


Five years later, it's Annie on the stage as a tribute and she can feel her body shaking, threatening to collapse any moment now.

She is eighteen, after all, and the odds will never be in her favor. The odds favor no one but the Capitol.

The people staring at her are starting to blur together but she presses her teeth against her bottom lip, willing the blood and the pain to keep her from crying because she needs to be strong, for the sake of her family and for the sake of her District's dignity. The footsteps signify another member on stage and she peeks from the corner of her eyes, shuddering when she meets David Parker's gaze.

They are classmates but now they'll be facing each in a fight to death — they might both get killed — they might even have to fight or kill each other — they're going to test their odds against twenty two other tributes and Annie has never learned how to fight.

She's sitting on the train alone with Finnick (David had excused himself to go to the bathroom a few minutes ago) and awkwardness is filling up the air around them because she hasn't talked to him in years, not after the 65th Hunger Games. In the past few years, he has become too caught up in being a Capitol heartthrob. They talk about battle strategies and the different tributes from other districts, but Finnick's eyes are dull and his voice is sad and bitter.

"I'll help you," He says later, after they have reached the center and he and David have dug into the Capitol food (she barely touched her food). "I know people, I have… friends. I can get you sponsors. You can win, y'know."

Annie thinks about the other tributes, about how twenty three of them will die, how twenty three families will loose their children to the Games.

On the day before the Games, Annie's sitting beside the window that overlooks the Capitol and watching the as the city lights illuminate the sky, beams of bright neon colors; it's all far too flashy and fake for her taste. There are only a few hours left, barely enough for any last minute preparation but Annie needs a last minute pep talk because her heart is pounding furiously and irregularly.

The door gently slides open.

It's Finnick. His hair is disheveled and he doesn't look like he has gotten much sleep either but there's concern etched on his face and he is amongst those few people that still remind her of home. Answers to unasked questions pass between them silently, and as if on cue, he slips closer. His soft smile seems to be asking her if she's okay, attempting to give her any last shreds of comfort.

"I'm not a fighter, Finnick." She whispers, because he needs to know.

His smile widens slightly and the dimples on his cheeks and the creases beside his eyes are enhanced. "If you want to impress me, you're going to have to come up with a better joke than that, Cresta." Annie laughs because she has missed his humor and the sounds startles her; this is the first time she has genuinely smiled in the Capitol.

"Besides," he says, suddenly serious. His arm has found it's way around her and she's trapped in his embrace but it feels warm and right (like her favorite nordic sweater); it makes her forget her problems, her worries and everything else that has been bothering her. "You have something they don't." He plants a small kiss on her temple and Annie barely has a moment to comprehend a word of what he said or meant when he's gone, and she's left to face her nightmares again.


They're both going to die.

The pain is sapping away her ability to think but with her jagged eyesight, she manages to see District One's Jaundice swing his sword in a deathly blow. The arc at which his weapon falls is beautiful in the most terrible of ways and in that millisecond, she knows David is going to die and there is absolutely nothing she can do. HIS FAMILY — HIS FRIENDS — HIS CHANCE AT LIFE SNATCHED AWAY —

She's screaming now, and Jaundice flashes her one jubilant smile before the sword has fallen on David's neck and blood is everywhere, her vision tainted with red, blazingblazingblazing red. Her screams are almost unearthly, her own bleeding arm is clogging up her brain and the memory of David dying is carved forever into her mind when all she wants is to forget, forget, forget.

Annie wants nothing more but to die, right then and there, but her legs are pushing her forward against her own will and suddenly, she's tearing through the woods at a speed she could have never dreamed of reaching. How far and how long Annie runs doesn't matter all that matters is that she just saw someone she knew get beheaded and she will always relive that moment, no matter what.

She could have saved him — she could have done something but she was too much of a coward, a weakling and IT'S ALL HER FAULT.

Tears are streaming down her face as she falls on the flattest piece of land she can find and her eyes close automatically in surrender but Annie doesn't want to sleep because sleep will bring only more nightmares of all the terrible things she had to witness.

It's all her fault, all of it —


When Annie wakes up again, she's not sure about anything.

She's not sure about her surroundings, she's not sure about the person stroking her hair, she's even sure about who she is. She is wrapped up in linen and there are people crowded around her, odd faces with strange smiles that do nothing but scare her and it's when the slightly familiar lady with the green hair chuckles hugely and announces, "You won!" does Annie begun to cry.

The Games have changed her and she doesn't even know who she is anymore.

The warm hands that have been tangled in her hair are suddenly cupping her face and she hears a voice, a voice that rings a bell in the back of her mind, gently command her to stop crying and look up. Hesitantly, she obeys and the ocean eyes of Finnick Odair are the first thing she sees when she looks up, something that does nothing but trigger more memories.

These memories are better though, the type she wishes she could get lost in, but these happy moments are always swallowed by an angry dark storm and the brief spell she attempts to cast herself in is always broken.

She's mentally unstable now, so says the little label on her arm and people always gawk at her and point. Annie doesn't like that, at all.

When Finnick is there she laughs and smiles, almost as if the Games had never happened. His jokes can always always her mood, she talks a lot around him and she is almost dependent on him to drive away her nightmares and fears. It's relief, sort of like the pills and tablets the doctors like to give her, but those pills do nothing but put her to sleep and sleep means dreams of the Arena.

He brings her a necklace one day and it's all silvery and pretty with a small golden trident dangling off the chain. Annie likes the necklace because wearing doesn't make feel helpless at all.

But Finnick is not there all the time and sometimes, Annie looks outside her window and sees blood, blood on the streets, blood in the sea; blood everywhere; droplets of red, bloodbloodblood red, tainting the turquoise ocean and pure landscape. Annie has seen a lot of blood and some of it has been hers.

There comes a day, many years later, when Annie is brought on the stage again — the same stage where she had once stood, four years ago, and been declared as tribute for the 70th Hunger Games. "Annie Cresta," says Felicity Glow, her slim fingers locking around the paper.

The people and Felicity are all looking at her, but this time there is deep sadness and pity in their eyes and suddenly Mags, (kind old Mags who comes to visit Annie and brings homemade cake) is stepping forward and saying in a firm voice that never cracks, not once; "I volunteer."'

There's loud murmuring in the crowd. Finnick who had been standing unmoving before, shoots up and tries to say something but he is cut short as a Peacekeeper raises his hands warningly and everybody falls silent. Mags is pulled away and Annie wants to say something and stop her but the huge grey doors snap close and Mags is gone.

Finnick turns to her and he looks as if something has shattered. "Bye," He whispers and Annie is confused — why does he sounds so sad, where is he going, what's happening — when Finnick hugs her (she barely registers it) and then he's gone too.

That's when Annie starts to scream again.


Annie has been silent for hours now.

She's back at the Capitol and the memories resurface so fast they almost knock Annie over.

They are whipping her, slapping her, slashing daggers at her skin and it hurts but Annie doesn't dare open her mouth because she knows; they want to use her as a weapon to get Finnick to come and rescue her but Finnick is not coming here, no. The pain is afresh each time but Annie pretends (she always liked pretending) that this is all an illusion and soon, the pain will go away and things will be okay again.

Annie doesn't remember much about okay but she thinks it means the days when she was a just a child and the Hunger Games were not real for Finnick and her. She hopes her eyes will send a silent message and he will know to stay where he is, safe and sound.

He deserves happiness too.


Things seem okay again.

Annie is wearing a borrowed dress and her hair has been braided messily but she has never looked better or felt any happier because today she's marrying Finnick. The storm rages on and the sun is hidden by the clouds but the day doesn't have to be bright for it to be a good one.

She's standing on the aisle and so is he; the fears that once penetrated her mind are gone and she feels like this is a fresh start, a clean slate. People in the background are clapping and though many of them wear fake smiles, Annie sees them, only them. The wedding is formal, like the kind she had once seen on tv, but when all the hustle and partying has died down, Finnick takes her to the seaside — a reminder that this is not just a contrived plan but something special.

Something that's only them.

The sea is familiar even though District Thirteen is not and today, the sea is loud and turbulent as if it too is revolting against the Capitol and the blood that has been spilled on it's waters.

"You saved me from myself," Annie says, watching as the angry waves beat down on the shore, inches away from where they both stand. "I probably wouldn't be here right now if it wasn't for you."

Finnick smiles softly. "Yeah, neither would I."

They end up soaking their clothes because regardless of the strong tide, the fresh and intoxicating smell of the sea is irresistible and water is both cleansing and refreshing, just what Annie needs. Finnick beats her in their small race and makes a huge deal out it, prompting her laughter.

It's reminiscent of old times and Annie wants to hold on to this golden time she has because something tells her it'll all be over too soon.

As always, her predictions come true.

It's not a good bye, Finnick has insisted but Annie knows that it is. She doesn't know much about what has been happening around her but what she does know is that her hand will no longer be entwined with Finnick's and he's leaving for a war. War is never good, Annie knows that much too.

"Just you wait, I'll be back before you even know it." Finnick says jokingly, and hugs her once again before he's gone, blurring in with the others all dressed in green and yet, his last smile remains etched in her mind.

Annie has been waiting and she's ready to wait for as long as it takes — waiting is something she's quite familiar with.

One day, when time has stopped making sense to her, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark shows up at her door and Annie wants to ask about Finnick but she can tell something is wrong before the words even leave her lips.

Her eyes search Katniss' void expression for an answer, a confirmation, and Katniss opens her mouth as if to say something but closes it again abruptly; Peeta attempts to speak but falls silent as Katniss looks up again.

"I'm sorry." She finally chokes out and for a second, her composed mask crumbles but then she's gone — out the door, running across the jagged cobblestone path that leads to the forest and disappearing behind the tall trees.

It's only when many minutes have passed does Annie finally register what has happened.

Their story never really got a chance, did it?


Annie thinks her son is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

Sometimes looking into his green eyes, fondling his blonde hair or hearing his tinkering laugh is painful but most days when she is with him, Annie is reminded of her own childhood, of good days spent playing and laughing. So Annie swears that her little James Odair will never have to grow up and face the problems that she had to face. He will stay golden forever.

Some days, James asks her where's Daddy? and Annie cries. There are no pictures, no token, nothing — nothing to look at but the turquoise waves as a reminder of Finnick. They haven't preserved much from the revolution; Johanna says it's time for a new beginning and while playing with James, Annie forgets.

Forgetting is nice.

He's like her Finnick because with him, it's bliss and this time she doesn't have to pretend because things are actually okay and will stay that way. Many days, Annie wishes Finnick were here because he deserved to see his son and James doesn't deserve to live without a father, either, but James doesn't know the full story and never will.

James bounds over, his yellow curls billowing in the wind and childlike delight reflected on his small face. "When I grow up, I want to be just like daddy!"

It's not happiness, not yet, but it is something.