Prologue

District One was silent.

It wasn't common for the luxury district to come to a grinding halt, but all of Panem was frozen as they watched the finale of the Sixty-First Hunger Games. The wetland arena had been one of the most enthralling in years, filled with creatures and traps that had taken even the surest of foot by surprise. The finale promised not to disappoint.

The two remaining tributes stood in the center of the foggy arena. Around them the trees were sinking into the sand, weighed down by the endless torrential rain that had driven the tributes back together. Supplies bobbed in the murky waters but neither tribute cared; they were focused on each other.

The girl held a machete steadily in one hand and her other was tightly bandaged. It was obvious that she was strong. She stood a full head taller than most of the tributes that year, male or female, and the amount of muscle that still held to her bones betrayed her well-fed upbringing. Her injured hand had done little to slow her down. She'd carved and slashed her way to the final two and now stood moments away from the end. Her straw-like hair was soaked and clinging to her, though she didn't seem bothered that pieces obscured her view.

The male tribute that stood across from her had obviously shared her upbringing. Like her he was tall, standing above the lithe girl in front of him. His broad shoulders and thick arms had made swinging his spear child's play and had led him to the final two easily. He stood strong despite the red tinge seeping through his golden hair. The rain didn't seem to faze him as he watched his district partner weigh her options carefully.

They were both at a loss. Nothing like this had happened before. The girl shrugged and grinned through her sopping wet hair. "Did you ever think it would come to this?"

Her partner shook his head. "No. We would have talked about it."

She laughed quietly and pulled the hair out of her face. "Yeah… maybe we should have. We were being stupid, weren't we?" She watched the blood run off her machete, testing its weight as she thought. "How do you want to do this?"

He laughed under his breath, though the tension between them remained. "Tag?"

The girl flicked her hair and nodded. "Tag."

The wind died to a low breeze as they stood. Neither was willing to make the first move until the rain suddenly cut out. The gamemakers were waiting; time was up.

The weapons clashed so quickly that it wasn't clear who moved first.

Sparks flew as blades met. Fog swirled around the tributes' feet as they dodged and swung, each hit resonating against the other's weapon, none missing. It wasn't a surprise that they were so skilled; tributes from District One were nothing less than exceptionally trained. What was surprising was the fluidity of their movements. Each one knew what the other was going to do before it was done, as though they were moving from the same mind.

What else would one expect from twins?

Shimmer and Shine were a matched pair, the pride of the district. The children of a victor, they'd been born together, trained together, and volunteered together. The two had been inseparable since birth, yet they both knew they would never leave the arena together.

They continued to swing.

A snapping noise made the crowd gasp as the blade of Shine's spear flew off into the thickening fog, leaving him with the steel handle. Shimmer's attack didn't stop despite the sobs that could barely be heard over her blade's singing. Shine's jaw was set in a hard line as he blocked his sister's onslaught.

Everyone leaned forward as the fog briefly became too thick to see through. The clanging of weapons continued for several long moments until there was a shrill yelp and the twins came back into view. Shimmer was nursing a new wound that had left her with two damaged hands and no weapon. Still, she tossed her hair and lunged again, lashing out with her legs and sending her brother off-balance.

It was her undoing.

In the blink of an eye Shine had grabbed her ankle and whipped her to the ground. They disappeared into the fog. A heavy wheeze pierced the now-silent arena, followed by unstable breathing.

Finally, the fog disappeared for good.

Shimmer was pinned to the ground, impaled in place by the handle of her brother's spear. Thick blood ran from her mouth and down her neck, staining her corn-blonde hair as she watched her brother.

"Tag."

The word was barely a whisper as Shine stared down at his twin. There was a silent shake in his shoulders that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

It was clear that Shimmer was dying as the deep red mark spread below her, sinking into the sand and creeping outwards. It looked like she was melting. The crowd hung on edge as she motioned for her brother to listen to her. He leaned down, though his grip was firm on the spear's handle.

"You're… it."

A dull thud echoed across the arena as Shimmer's machete lodged itself deep in her brother's neck. No one had seen her find the discarded blade. As Shine realized what had happened the strangest scene unfolded.

He smiled.

He collapsed beside his sister and rested his head in her hair as he bled out. Her cheek gently rested on his until her eyes slowly slipped shut. No words had to move between them, they already knew what the other would say.

Together.

Their cannons fired so closely that they could have been the same sound.

No one would remember a young Claudius stammering as he tried to explain what had happened. No one would remember the marshes or the strange oil-spewing birds or the rain. They wouldn't remember the bloodbath.

The Sixty-First games would forever remind Panem of the look on the twins' faces as they'd slipped away.

It would remind them of peace.

AN:

Hello!

I've been re-hashing this story over and over again, and I finally decided to just go ahead and post it so that I'd stop re-writing it. It'll be slow-ish in updates, but please let me know what you think! It's a Finnick/OC, fic (because what is shame?) and the story revolves around the massive changes that could have happened if Finnick hadn't had Annie through the rebellion. I don't know how long it's going to be, but I have a fair amount planned for it.

Thanks all!

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