Summary: Peeta St Mellark and Finnick Odair spend one night with Sir Haymitch rather than with the women of the town. The result? A wager. The two lads will have a set time to meet and seduce two reclusive young ladies who are locked away and invisible in the eyes of society. Easy enough, but then again, this will be the first time either of them is faced with women who are both the challenge, and the prize.
Peeta's pov
Sir Plutarch Heavensbee must have been startled for he fell backwards into the punch bowl causing it – along with him – to land gracelessly on the floor. After noticing a slanted portrait on the wall, he'd made his ascent by climbing atop of a wooden chair before standing on the table – most likely marrying the mahogany. Then whilst trying to fix the picture, it appeared that he struggled to find anywhere to put his feet because the table was covered in the leftovers from dinner, making it nearly impossible to move around without stepping on some fruit. The wrong position and being a few inches too short meant that the portrait became more crooked than before and when Plutarch steeped back, decidedly to get a good look at it from a distance, he stepped on one side of the punch bowl. And alas now I wonder if he's aware that he may have temporarily stained the wooden flooring, until it can be cleaned at least. I suppose it doesn't matter much though. Miss Delly Cartwright never seemed too fussed as long as her customers were so preoccupied with selecting their dresses and shoes that they don't notice the commotion.
I look around at the shards of glass surrounding Heavensbee. The unkempt man lays on the floor seemingly still in shock – whether that's at the fall or the fact that his only suit has spots that have been soaked through with punch, I'm unsure. The females in the room gasp when they notice him and a few clap gently as if they were proud that he'd even attempt such a feat.
"Is he alright?" a woman called out.
"Oh give him a minute" another replies. "The man needs to catch his breath".
"Oh no" a woman says sadly, in a tone that sounds like it should be followed up with a sigh of despair. "Looks like I'm in need of a new bowl."
"You should probably throw in some new floorboards Delly, or at least a good paint job. You know... for the sake of appearances" I state as the woman crosses her arms.
She looks at me and then nods before glancing back at Sir Plutarch. "I guess you're right" she begins and after a moment she huffs. I glance over to where she's looking at to see a number of women hanging around near her window display. They stand outside of her shop, with torn shirts and cut up trousers. Everyone knows these women as they're constantly looking for work 'servicing' men. The only issue is that they've taken to standing around upper class shop's like Delly's which can draw customers away. Goodness knows how the twenty two year old has been trying to dissociate herself and her reputation from that type of business.
"Don't mind them" I state.
"Oh all right. Well... you don't think he's gone and killed himself, do you? I mean his eyes are still open so that could mean something" she says hopefully, her common optimistic attitude returning.
I step closer to him, watching the slight rise and fall of his chest. "Well he's breathing, so there's that". I reach out and feel across his neck for a pulse. "Yep", I say standing up. "I'm afraid he didn't die this time Del". She tuts, and slaps me gently on the shoulder. I relax slightly. At least she's happy again.
"See, I told you he'd be fine" a voice calls out. A lamp is switched on offering more light in the dim room. Giggling sounds through the air and I notice that whilst I was speaking to Delly, the women from outside had come in – most likely to get some business from some of the men waiting in the corner of the room. By the way they're addressing the men, it doesn't seem like they're too concerned about the fact that some of them are twice their age. Not to mention how many of them are married or courting the females who are trying to shop.
One of the girls adjusts her shirt before approaching a man whose head rests on another table. His hand holds a half empty glass and from the way he's fallen asleep, I know he must be intoxicated. Yet, I already know that she'll stay with him until he's sober before taking him off to a private room. It's been done before and the customers that disagree with it will usually leave as soon as they see the girls. That's why the shop is only half filled. Despite this Delly has taken to offering some small rooms for the girls so that they can do what they deem as necessary. I've no doubt that when winter comes and people get fired because the demand for products is low, there may be some men looking for work – and a paycheck. She tends to be willing to help finance their lifestyle whenever she has a few pounds to spare.
"That's what happens when you make friends at a young age" I whisper to Delly, knowing that despite the hassle, she'd never turn the girls away. After all, one of them became her friend within our third year of school, so I don't believe Delly would ever try to ruin what little the girls have. She's too nice to ever intentionally hurt someone, no matter what it costs her.
"Anyway, I must be off".
"Already, St Mellark?", Delly asks teasingly as she tries to fix her mussed blonde hair. She then pauses. "You usually stay a bit longer. Did one of the girls do something last time that upset you?".
"No", I say, not bothering to correct her. Let Del think what she wants to.
"Well are you sure? I can ask one of the others-".
"Nope" I say cutting her off. Flinching at how harsh my voice sounds when it lacks humour. "Let's just... leave that till another time alright?". Before she can reply I bow and turn to the exit. I quickly grab my hat and cane and make sure my cloak is secure before leaving her establishment.
Judging by the lack of sun it must be early in the morning. Sunrise won't occur for a few hours. It must be one – two? – am and understandably so, the streets of 12 are quiet. At least they are on this side of town.
I set off towards my carriage which I already know will be fifteen metres away and around the corner. It's a respectable distance – not too far to walk yet not obvious to any passerby's about where its occupant has headed.
I doubt I'll return to this location though, at least not for a while. Delly will be fine without me and I'm sure the girls won't be too offended. They'll just look for someone else to distract. Things just seem to be losing their appeal for me nowadays. The days feel longer, and not in a good way.
I climb into the carriage quickly.
I've lost the desire to even stay out until the next morning. Maybe that's just something that comes with age. After all, I'm going to be twenty five soon and the majority of men, at least in my social circle, have already married or at the very least proposed an offer of marriage. I haven't even got a woman in mind and then I'd still have to converse with her, maybe have tea and then court her. All the pleasures of being young and free seem to be disappearing with the thought that they might become permanent – and I could be alone.
The carriage shakes and the wheels rattle as it crosses from cobblestones to gravel and dirt and then pebbles as it travels down the path to my home. Once we stop, I swing open the door but before my foot hits the pavement a voice calls out to me, making me freeze.
"Hey Peet!".
I chuckle to myself when I recognise the voice. It's Finnick Odair, and when I glance over he's already crossing the nearest street – the one my carriage is on. He must have seen it and waited for me – it wouldn't be the first time. Finnick's a tall fellow, compared to myself at least, with bronze hair and sea-green eyes, which have made many, believe that he must have been a menace when he was a child. The type that would run around and cause havoc for a quick laugh. I can't say I've seen it all that often given that the young lad's always friendly and attentive whenever he's nearby. But maybe that's because I could be seen as akin to a mentor for him.
"You going home already? Bit early for you isn't it?", another voice calls out, though this one isn't as smooth as the last. I step onto the pavement and nod my head in acknowledgement of Finnick's uncle, sir Haymitch Abernathy. It makes sense that the old man's ambling around here. He was probably looking for something to drink before he collapses and falls asleep – not in his house but I suppose being in the neighbourhood is close enough.
"This isn't a time to be wasted sir" Finnick says.
"Exactly. You got some girl waiting at home for ya?" Haymitch asks, glancing over to my front door. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.
"No. No I haven't".
"Huh". He steps onto my pavement."You feeling alright, boy? Something got you down? You know there ain't any shame in that".
"Maybe there is, but some things just can't be fixed". Like my age. Or the women I've met.
"Oh, shoot man" Finnick says, losing the formalities. "I didn't know".
I smile, so much for being called Sir. He speaks to me the same way as when he was fourteen, only his voice used to be a bit higher.
He didn't know. What naivety, what good fortune the lad has to still believe that everything in life is easy. How many years has it been since I lost that same innocence?
"Well here I am thinking I'm open book. Don't worry yourself Finnick, I'm just at that age where boredom sets in".
"If you're not careful it might kill ya", Haymitch states. I chuckle.
"Well at least that's one thing I fear more then you". He grins.
"Oh you're just messing with me Peeta", Finnick says shoving his hands into his pockets. The lad did always worry too much.
"Nevermind him" Haymitch says, resting his hand heavily on his nephew's shoulder, so much so that the lad's body tilts to one side. "We'll get ourselves a drink down at Miss Cartwright's establishment. The boy can join if he feels so inclined".
"I'm surprised Abernathy. That place is hardly suitable for the lad at a time when the ladies are out".
"Nonsense!" Finnick interjects. "You've taken me there Peeta. You even said that this is the best time to go out. I've even learnt a thing or two from you when it comes to women".
When am I ever around women?
"So I'm a good tutor then?".
"Sir you're great. Excellent in fact".
"And is there anything that stands out to you?".
He pauses and shrugs off his uncle's hand as if it were a distraction. "Let's see... last week! Yes. You taught me to pay more attention to whose dealing the cards. That's how I caught Marvel out! And in doing that you saved me quite a lot of money, I must say".
"The lad also shows promise in the water. At his age he's doing much more than the young sportsmen around here. I've no doubt that soon he'll be able to grab fish right out of the river during a morning swim. And you know that's a good skill set to have".
"Whilst I can't disagree with you Haymitch, I also don't attribute his successes to working with me. The lad's just gifted".
"Ah you're just being modest" he replies dragging the boy off. "Come with us. I haven't the energy to stand around all day".
"Forgive me sir but I must decline. I've just been where you're going and I'd rather like a break from there".
"Tired yourself out old man?", Finnick teases. "You're gonna sleep good tonight". It's all I can hope for. I smirk but don't bother to correct him. "You know what? Let us come inside sir. Maybe we can cheer you up".
Haymitch grumbles. He must feel sober, no wonder he's annoyed.
"I won't say no" I answer honestly. "But I doubt it'll work".
"Well we tried". Finnick makes his uncle stop and glares at him.
With them following me, we all enter the house and I guide them to my living room. With a word of thanks, Haymitch goes in search of alcohol – despite me telling him that he can just ask a manservant for it - and once he's found it, along with three glasses, he returns to the room and shares it out. I know the bottle isn't empty but I don't comment on it when he takes it with him and settles into one of the armchairs, that are beside the one Finnick is sitting in. I take my own seat, along with a sip before placing the glass onto the table in the middle of the room. If anything, I'm growing more bored with just the three of us sitting here. Luckily Finnick breaks the silence.
"I must be honest. I can see why the... entertainment in town is losing its appeal".
"He's like a copy of you, my boy!" Haymitch states "And he's six years younger than you".
"Well at least he's wiser than I ever was. He ain't one to waste his years. I think he's done more nonsense in one season than many do in all their years of singlehood".
"Glad I make you proud" Finnick says with a grin, reminding me of how young he is.
"That you do". And how could he not? Despite his impulsiveness the lad's from good breeding and a family of considerable wealth. That mixed with good looks and a personality that seems to entertain all ages, means he's been guaranteed success in nearly every social circle in 12. He could probably even venture out into Panem and still be welcomed. Any party or ball he attended made the hosts all the more popular and all the mothers present would try to present their daughters in the best light so that he might steal them away for a moment and hopefully return with a proposal of courtship. He just happens to be more of a romantic then many of them think. Well, most of the time he is. There have been a few... occurrences when a matron worried about if one of the girls had been left ruined and alone. Unfortunately they're the one crowd who seem to dislike him for his wandering mind that doesn't allow him to settle down. The rumours going around are that some see the young bachelor as a rake. He's certainly gaining a reputation for being one. Though I have noticed him look lost quite a few times. So perhaps boredom is contagious.
"I know" he says excited. "We could have a fight. It'll remove any wrongdoers and offer us entertainment in the meanwhile".
"Nah" Haymitch says, sipping from his glass, which is now almost empty. "What about the blonde that used to hang around the butchers? She seemed to fancy you St Mellark".
"Well good for her" I reply.
"Well someone's bitter".
I sigh and retrieve my glass. "They're all the same sir. And I've grown tired of it. I haven't the time to waste chasing skirts only to realise I didn't like them in the first place. I mean how could I, when I've barely spoken to any of them?".
"I know what you mean" Finick says, leaning back into his chair. He kicks his feet up onto the table. "I don't want to marry a girl because within a fortnight of saying yes, I'll be bored and begging the manservant to swap places with me".
Sir Abernathy snorts into his glass. "You two are something. You know how hard men have to work to gain the attentions of a woman when they lack looks or wealth? You act as if your mean presence make them rush over and fall to their knees".
"While I wouldn't say no to that" Finnick says, dodging a hand from his Uncle who tried to slap the back of his head. "I know a girl in the country that I couldn't have no matter what I do. And as for Peeta, his age and those he's acquainted with are known everywhere. What real woman would respect that?". This time he dodges my hand. We fall quiet again. I scratch at the leather armrest and try to think of something to say. The sound of a liquid sloshing in a glass fills the room.
"Well as you are bored" Haymitch begins, but when I look up he's avoiding my gaze. "And you seem to believe that all females admire you – or the majority at least. I'll give you a challenge Finnick". I lower my head. Of course he meant his nephew.
"A-A challenege?" Finnick repeats, slowly moving his feet off of the table and he shifts about, trying to sit up straight. "What does that mean?".
"Exactly" I murmur confused. "What does this entail?". This challenge will be turned into a wager no doubt and that's not something relatives do. "There must be rules of some sort". Sir Abernathy swirls the liquid around in the glass.
"There are, but first, I wanna tell you a story".
Finnick tuts and sinks down into the chair. So much for being older, the eighteen year old has more mood swings than when he turned sixteen.
"Please. Enlighten us sir" I say on his nephew's behalf. The man ignores the lad's attitude completely.
"Mmm. Well you might be unaware but I recently moved into a house down in a place called Victor's Village. Or at least I did, fifteen years ago. It's a lovely country area, horribly drab in winter but y'know. It's a wealthy neighbourhood at least. About a mile or two from it is even a lake. Apparently the grass is greener over there. The first house that was built sits at the back of the estate. You can tell from how worn the wooden steps are. I tell you, that family should get a reward for living there. A while back, a Mrs Mags, who was a nice lady well past her middle age, had her husband buy the property. They adapted as best as they could but they aren't the richest people to live there. That's why so many of the houses are empty. Their original owners eventually die and the rest of the family can't afford the lifestyle so they go back home until", he sighs "eventually they're replaced by another family. By the looks of it the old widow must have been left a lot of money to keep that place. She sure misses her husband though". He goes quiet.
"I don't get what this has to do with anything" Finnick complains.
"I thought you had a lot of patience" Haymitch states and the lad nods before looking out the window. I look out too, seeing some rays of light breaking through the clouds. It must be almost four am.
"Anyway" the man grumbles. "When she came she brought her granddaughter. The girl must have been an infant. Never seen her parents but Mrs Mags was always there for the child".
"The child who must now be a teen. She's what, sixteen, seventeen perhaps?" Finnick answers. "Certainly not older than me".
"Well now you look interested" I say, ignoring the curse he says under his breath. I stand up and take his glass away from him, and then go put both of ours in the kitchen. I'd take Sir Abernathy's but he might throw the bottle at me if I did. I return quickly.
"What's she like?" Finnick asks.
"Well I would've thought you'd want to find out yourself. Then you could tell me all about it the next time I'm drunk".
I interrupt. "Well we're not going to find out by tomorrow Haymitch".
"You're a right talker you are. Anyhow, the woman's a recluse now. The girl's the same way. Neither of them receives guests and they must only communicate with one another because the last servant they had left over ten years ago. They aren't hostile, but I never seen her outside alone. She's even watched through the window when she's watering the plants out the front of their house. I doubt she can even talk on her own. She's like some little princess. Only her grandmother means no harm and the girl never seems annoyed by all the secrecy. Just floats right over her head".
I stare into his gunmetal eyes, trying to understand whether or not he's jesting. My fingers press deeply into the leather of both armrests. "Good mighty Sir! I've got a mind to check the alcohol content on that drink because I'm not sure whether you're hallucinating or reading too much fantasy literature from Mrs C. Love".
"Boy if you lean any more forward you'll fall out of your chair" he states. I move back, trying to compose myself. I'm the second eldest in the room so I need to stop acting like an eager boy. "We're drinking the same thing and you know I don't read Clove's" – which is the author's penname - "nonsense". "The books piled up by the front door of my house are a result of letting female relatives invite themselves over, and bring what they erroneously think are gifts! They check all the time so I don't get to throw that old garage away".
He stands up and gestures to hurry the conversation up. "Anyhow, er... the wager. Is that a yes Odair?".
"Perhaps" the lad begins, "But as St Mellark said earlier Uncle, what does this require of me?".
"If I say – a month? – yes. And in that time you go and er... acquaint yourself with the young woman. Charm her a bit, see if you can make her a fool".
Finnick's mouth opens and he struggles to form words. "But I can't" he sputters as his face grows paler. "No-one's even seen the girl, you said so yourself!".
"Don't worry about that Odair, worry about the inaccessibility. If her grandmother ever left the house, she probably locked the girl inside". I chuckle. "You know maybe the girl's being protected by some mystical creature that you'll need to have slain before she awakens".
"Now I have to charm two things!" he complains.
"Jest all you will St Mellark but you're not so far off".
"Huh?". My laughter dies out.
"There's a dragon-like woman that stays with the girl. A Miss Katniss Everdeen. Anytime someone spoke to her around town it looked like she'd breathe fire that one. A right firecracker. She's always around the young girl when they're out and about though. Seems like they're companions and she's the girl's guardian. Why I've no idea".
I roll my eyes, when he finishes. "Now that's no way to talk about a lady".
Finnick chimes in. "And it's also impossible".
"So you refuse the wager? Hurry up now and tell me, it's getting so light outside".
The boy glances between the two of us. "Fine! You know I can't refuse, but I'm telling you she could look and talk like who knows what, and I could still not be able to woo her".
"Well she's fine in the looks department" Haymitch grumbles. "I saw her about three months ago after sunset". I know that must have been when Haymitch was going on one of his mini explorations around town. He used to ride at that time but as he's gotten older and his favourite horse passed, he now prefers to walk the streets. "There was a carriage on the outskirts of town where the blacksmith is. I knew it immediately because the old couple were never gaudy with anything – and I also happened to see it leaving the village gates once. The blinds were up on the windows so I could see in, but Mrs Mags must have been sitting on the other side because I saw a young woman with fair skin, and her hair was up, mostly hidden beneath a beret. I'd have gotten a closer look but that Miss Everdeen noticed me and snapped the blinds shut with a glare. The girl in question, never looked my way".
"Is she really a beauty Uncle? Because I'm tired of being misled".
"Lad I haven't the time to tell you these stories for nothing".
Finnick stands up, to follow his Uncle to the doorway. I trail behind them both. "All right then, but I have a condition".
"Do you now", the old man says sarcastically.
"Yes. I have decided", he spins around and I halt so I don't crash into him. The colour has returned to his face and he grins at me. I raise my eyebrow. "St Mellark will accompany me".
His uncle huffs. "Fine with me".
"Come on sir, what do you say?", Finnick continues. "I'm gonna need help getting the girl away from that dragon he spoke of, and other than her fire-breathing nature, Haymitch hasn't said a bad word about the woman!".
Am I supposed to appreciate that?
"Well as your friend and mentor I can hardly refuse". The lad whoops. "And I suppose I am in need of some new entertainment".
"Exactly sir! Brining you along is just another way of showing how unselfish you taught me to be". I shake my head, trying not to smile. It'll only encourage this foolishness more.
"Then its settled", Sir Abernathy states as he flings the door open. I'll send a telegram in a few hours t state the terms".
"You do that sir" I say quietly as they leave and head back onto the streets for who knows how many hours more. "You do that".
Authors note ~ Hello! (loosely based off of the book - St. George and the Dragon) I don't own the characters. Rights go to the right people.
Its been a while! Anywho, I decided that the first thing to write after a while away would be a new fic that has the first chapter at over 4000 words. Though I have over 75,000 words written for a number of fics so hopefully I can do more updates soon.
Hope you guys liked this or we're intrigued at least! Please review and tell me what you think! I love hearing your feedback! Thanks for reading. :)