The Hunger Games: Odesta

Warnings: Spoilers for Mockingjay

Part 1: More than just a mentor?

Annie stood still and focussed on remaining calm as her stylist fussed over her, adjusting her ponytail and straightening her jacket. After all, it's not everyday you get the chance to walk straight to your death, you might as well look good about it. Until, of course, the inevitable arrow or spear or whatever puts an (hopefully) abrupt end to your life while simultaneously ruining your designer death attire. The Capitol's obsession with clothes and violence never ceased to both amuse and annoy Annie.

"Annie?"

Her stylist's voice shook her out of her reverie. "I'm sorry, what did you say again?"

The woman's gold painted lips smiled as she nodded at something over Annie's shoulder. "I said there's someone here to see you."

Annie turned around and her heart did a little back flip when her eyes fell on the bronze-haired, green-eyed, impossibly attractive figure standing in the doorway.

"Finnick!" She blurted.

He smiled that gorgeous smile. "Well observed, Annie Cresta."

"Well isn't this a lovely surprise!" Annie's stylist said excitedly. "I'll leave you two alone. Good luck darling." She hugged Annie and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. "If you fight as good as you look you'll win this in no time!" She swept out of the room, leaving Annie and Finnick alone.

"Well there's an encouraging remark if I ever heard one," Finnick said, sauntering over to her.

"On the contrary," Annie responded, "if her logic is sound, I'll dead within five minutes."

"Nonsense," Finnick said sincerely. "You'll easily be the most beautiful person in that arena and therefore the most beautiful fighter and hence the only beautiful winner."

Annie blushed and stared down at her feet, inexperienced at responding to compliments from impossibly hot guys.

"How did you get in anyway?" She mumbled at her boots. "I didn't think visitors would be permitted this close to launch."

"I think they're ok with it," he replied. "If not, I'll just charm my way out of trouble with my astounding looks and charisma."

"Fair enough," Annie looked up, straight into Finnick's eyes which where suddenly inches from hers. They continued to gaze at each other until a cool female voice echoed through the room.

"Prepare for launch."

They didn't move, still staring silently into each others eyes, a multitude of unspoken words passing between them. "I should go," Annie whispered after a moment.

Finnick suddenly pulled her into a hug. "Good luck Annie Cresta," he whispered into her ear. He pulled away and smiled sadly at her. She smiled back and then turned and mounted the podium that would carry her to her death. When the glass slid up around her, she laid her hand on it and blinked back tears as he raised his hand and placed it on his side of the glass to match hers.

His eyes stayed on hers as the podium began to rise and, as she lost sight of him, she tried hard not to break down and cry at how god damn unfair life was.

Part 2: Dreaming in the face of death

Annie sat on a log, her hands focussed on sharpening her knife but her mind on something else entirely. This 'something' had become her only source of happiness and sanity in this insane environment of violence and misery.

She knew it was ridiculous in the circumstances, but she just couldn't keep him off her mind. She'd given up trying, instead embracing her fantasies of winning the games and seeing his proud smile before he took her in his arms and they sobbed in relief together. In some variations, he would even get down on one knee then and there and they would seal their engagement with an on-camera kiss for the whole of the Capitol to see. It would be their way of saying 'we may just be pawns in your games but screw you we're going to be happy anyway.'

Her thoughts were interrupted by her fellow ally and district 4 victor returning from a hunt. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the fat rabbit he carried by the ears and the pair of squirrels at his belt.

"Not a bad haul this time round," he said cheerfully. "I'm telling you Annie, if I continue being this awesome one of us may actually win this thing."

Annie opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything a figure darted out of the bushes behind him. She did not have time to shout a warning before the was a whooshing sound accompanied by the flash of a silver blade and a sickening thud as her friend's disembodied head hit the ground and rolled to a standstill at her feet, face up, an expression of mild surprise permanently fixed to his features. As the body crumpled before her, something in Annie snapped and she began to scream.

A few days later, it was all over but Annie was still screaming. The sound slowly broke Finnick's heart as he watched hopelessly as the doctors tried to force an anaesthetic into her body. He was obviously relieved that she was alive and out of there, but she was clearly not the same girl as she had been when he last saw her. That girl had been shy and curious, adorable in her innocence and still possessing the ability to hope and love in the face of doom.

But the arena had lived up to it's reputation and reduced that girl to this bedraggled, wild creature in front of him. Her eyes, once full of determination and hope in a hopeless situation, were now filled with nothing but panic and desperation. They reflected a mind that had been broken irreparably at the horrors of the arena, a mind that belonged to a girl who may never laugh prettily or blush beautifully at his compliments again.

Unable to stand it any longer, he approached the scene in front of him. The doctors moved to shoo him away, but then stopped when Annie's screams ceased as her wild eyes fell on him. Wordlessly, the doctor's let him pass and he knelt in front of her, taking her scratched and dirt caked hand in his.

"Annie?" he whispered.

"Finnick." Her voice was hoarse and so soft he could barely make it out. Nevertheless, relief flooded through him. Maybe she was not lost. Maybe, with a bit of love and the right medical care, she could be brought back to him.

Maybe.

Part 3: Off to war

Finnick had never liked goodbyes. Especially the sort of goodbyes that have a chance of being his last. He'd thought he would never have to say this sort of goodbye to Annie again, but he was wrong and the fact that she was now his wife and carrying his unborn child did not make it any easier.

"You will come back to me, yes?" Annie said softly, staring up at him.

Finnick smiled sadly. "I'll do my best." He placed a hand on her stomach. "You concentrate on looking after bump, ok?"

Annie placed her hand over his and smiled back at him. "Ok," she said. She looked down at her stomach thoughtfully.

"What is it?" Finnick asked. "What are you thinking?"

She looked back up at him. "I am thinking that bump is a girl."

She said it with such certainty that Finnick couldn't help but laugh. "Well if you're right..."

"I am right."

"Of course you are dear. May I suggest a name for our little girl?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "What name?"

"How about Mags?"

She beamed at him. "Mags."

"Great," he said. "Glad we have that sorted."

He cupped her chin and kissed her for what could be the last time.

"Goodbye my love."