Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
On Top of the World
"You've called me here?" Finnick couldn't keep the disgust out of his voice. After all, he was speaking the the granddaughter of King Snow. The same King that hosted a game that killed 23 children a year and the same King that prostituted out the desirable winners, like himself.
"Wine?" She offered, gesturing over to the avox standing obediently at her side. He didn't answer, simply staring at her with the most hatefilled expression he could deliver.
It was his first time being called by the Princess of Panem, but he could recognize her right off the bat. Her face was posted on every propaganda magazine from the Capital to District 12. Katniss Snow's untarnished features were cause for lots of gossip among the fashionista citizens that resided in the Capitol.
Grey eyes that were inherited from a long dead mother, rumored to have been kidnapped from District 12, stared back at him unblinkingly. Katniss Snow was a vision to behold, wearing a pale grey dress heavily embroidered with pearls and diamonds, hair pulled back into a complicated, braided twist, with diamonds weaved into it. Beautiful and strong, she was the epitome of royalty, and the Capitol prided itself their future leader.
"Oh, spare me the attitude," Katniss rolled her eyes, uncrossing her legs and getting up from her position on the cushioned, jeweled seat. A throne for a future queen. She paced around for a bit, before stilling next to a large window, overlooking the country she would rule.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here," Katniss mused, crossing her arms over her chest.
Finnick held his tongue against the vicious insults he wanted to spit at her. He wanted to keep his family alive and well.
The princess frowned at his lack of response, but turned to look him in the eye. "I'm just a spoiled, little girl that knows nothing of the real world, right?"
Finnick glared hard at her, who was she to tell him that she wasn't a spoiled brat? Katniss Snow didn't need to lift a finger to get the things she yearned, while the children in District 12 were starving to death. "I'm not going to lie to your face. I am and always have been given everything I've ever wanted."
She splayed out her arms to display the extravagant room she called her study. "I am spoiled, but not evil. I am nothing like my father, my grandfather, and the generation of oppressing Kings before him." The expression on her face were so serious, it almost scared Finnick, it was the mirror image of her grandfather's face before he gave him an assignment.
"Why am I here?" Finnick interrupted her. He knows what kind words from powerful people meant, kind words were honey-coated poison served on a silver platter with sweet smiles. Kind actions were gentle, pretending to be caring and loving while gouging scars into his skin. Kindness was the attention the wealthy women gave him before tearing him apart, piece by painful piece. Giving meant taking, Finnick isn't stupid, hasn't been so naive in a very long time.
"I need your help, Finnick," the Princess went straight to the point. "There is a war coming, an uprising just on the horizon, coming to tear apart everything we've ever known. If I allow things to keep going as they are, this whole country will be a pile of rubble in five years, at most.
"I am not as stupid as you think I am. I have viewed every video the Capitol wants to keep out of the eyes of its districts, I have read every report of District 11 protests, went over every petition ever requested of this government from this year from 50 years ago.
"District citizens are disappearing from their homes, not one of two of them, hundreds of them! Every year for the past three years! Where are they going? Into unclaimed territory? Doubtful! The people want revenge, peace has been out of the question for decades now. There are whispers that they're all migrating to District 13, joining a cause that'll leave thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people dead, maimed, or in poverty!" The last time Finnick saw such a terrified face up close, he was putting a trident through its owners heart. Katniss Snow looked every bit as a 16-year-old girl facing a war.
"And what do you want me to do about this? I have nothing to do with the rebellion!" Finnick nearly growled, scared for his life. The King never discussed the problems within his own country, believing that out of sight meant out of mind. It wouldn't surprise Finnick if the King thought this whole rebellion would simply blow over.
"You have nothing to do with it, now," Katniss corrected. "If you agree to do as I ask of you, you will have everything to do with the rebellion."
"And what are you asking of me?" Finnick treaded carefully. "This whole situation is out of my league. I can't fix it, you're family has been digging itself into this hole for almost a century."
"You think you won't be affected, if you say no? This rebellion involves every man, woman, and child from here to District 12. You think you're going to be safe in that mansion of yours while a war rages around you. If you say 'no', this rebellion isn't going to stop," Katniss frowned, she looked at him as if he was the stupidest person she's ever met. Finnick was starting to feel as if he was the 16 year teen, instead of the 24 year old adult he truly was.
"What do I have to do?" Finnick asked.
"Unknown to most, my ancestor, King Castor the Champion, didn't unite the Capitol and its 12 Districts with his own skill and wit. He was just a figurehead to the lesser known Marvel Boothe, a magnificent general and military strategist. I'm asking you to be a King Castor," the Princess took a swig from her previously ignored glass of wine.
"And you'll be my, Marvel Boothe?" Finnick said, slowly, letting everything sink in.
Katniss shook her head, shaking a few of the jewels of her hair and scattering them on the polished floor. "I'm not that smart and I wouldn't try my hand at leading an army with no experience and teachings. I have been taught to rule over malnourished, docile people and starry-eyed Capitolites, to deal out food, and to smile for the cameras. I have no idea how to lead a military. I have my own puppet masters, we'll just have to do as they say," Katniss admitted, collapsing into her jeweled chair. Finnick opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she held out a hand to stop him. "Not to say our opinions won't be heard. Everything and anything we say will be considered by my council. What do you say, Finnick Odair?"
Finnick swallowed back the bile in his throat and looked her dead in the eye, "I'm in."
It's probably stupid of me to start another story when I haven't finished 3 others, but oh well... I've been thinking of this one for months now.