Hi guys! I'm back from the dead (but have not yet updated my PJO fic for, like, a year...). Anyway, just a little story about Darius and Lavinia, everyone's favourite redheaded Avoxes. There is a worrying lack of stories and artwork about them, and I plan to remedy that. On to the story!


Pure torture.

How else could I describe—that?

The procedure: they hadn't bothered with anaesthesia or anything of the sort, of course. With the promise of silence, you had to endure the pain of feeling your tongue being cut out of your mouth, filling it with blood you can barely taste. Sure, they treated it afterwards to prevent complications, as they so nicely called it, but that was it. Then, you were left for about two weeks by yourself in a dark, damp cell, giving only bare amounts of water; not that I could've eaten food meanwhile. Forcing the water into my mouth was agony as it was, but I drank it only to survive.

And after being deemed fit and recovered at the end of it, I was pushed a uniform, then pushed into a train that brought me to District Twelve's apartment in the Capitol. Of course. This reeks of President Snow. When I arrived I was told that they wanted all the servants there early, to meet the tributes, but I heard none of it. All I could think was that Katniss and Peeta would see me like this. And Haymitch, as well. They'd all recognize me. And it would be humiliating.

I'm pushed again to the lavish dining room, where they force me to stand straight and bow my head slightly. I'm wearing the stupid red uniform that does nothing for my hair—an already disagreeable bright crimson shade—when I see the person who takes her place beside me. She's quite a bit smaller than me, and she's wearing the exact same uniform (though on her it looks infinitely better), her hair red like mine, but a darker shade, and her skin white like porcelain. Her face is almost fragile, but her features are incredibly striking. Not gorgeous in the way the Capitol might say, but in a classical way. She could have belonged in an old painting, one of those fabled works by masters from a younger world. For a moment I'm speechless, mouth hanging slightly open, struck dumb at her beauty. Then I remember the irony, especially in my case. I snort in laughter. But from the way her eyebrows shoot up slightly, then settle just a bit lower than before, I can tell she didn't take this so lightly. I make a mental note to apologize later, though being without a voice, I'm not sure I can. I haven't seen a single sheet of paper and/or a pencil here.

"Quiet!" the small, green-haired man says sharply. "They'll be here soon." I would have bitten my tongue at this point, but...

In a moment I hear distant voices. The man scurries away, into the elevator. He goes down.

I recognize Katniss and Peeta, but they haven't seen me yet. The next elevator opens, and this time it's Haymitch and Effie. He glances toward me and the other redheaded girl—I really should ask her name as well—and all I can do is stare at him. He says nothing, but his expression darkens.

Effie, their escort, looks in our direction as well. I dip my chin lower just in time. "Looks like they've got you a matched set this year," she says brightly, though she doesn't look too happy either.

A set. Of servants. Is that what everyone will think of us now? A matching pair of slaves?

Katniss whips around, recognition dawning on her face as she sees the red-haired beauty at my side. Then she sees me, and her reaction is a bit more delayed, because my head's down. When I glance at her, her expression is all shock, Haymitch gripping her wrist as if to stop her from doing something. She stares at me, her face unchanging. She can't say anything to me, and we both know, because I'll be punished. Why, I don't know, but it will happen.

So we settle for staring at the other, desperately hoping that we could somehow find a stalemate. I wouldn't have known what to say to her anyway, and the same conflict shows in her eyes. All I can do is stare back pathetically.

Suddenly she wrenches herself from Haymitch's hand and heads straight for her bedroom, locking the door without a word. I don't blame her.

After the others had lunch, we were allowed to retire to our private quarters. Each servant has a bedroom to themselves, in a separate area from the main apartment. It's my first time seeing my new bedroom, and, thank God, there's a note pad and pen on a small table inside.

The redheaded girl has gone into her room quietly and shut the door. She doesn't seem mad, but I want to apologize anyway.

I quickly scrawl a note of apology on the pad and I walk out, stopping in front of her door. It's across the hall from mine. After making sure no-one else was around, I knock. She answers the door, looking surprised.

I hold up the note pad. It says, "I'm sorry about earlier. It wasn't you I was laughing at. Forgive me?" I attempt an apologetic grin, but I don't think it works as much as I'd like. I raise a hand to my unruly red hair.

She simply looks up at me and for a while, does nothing. But she eventually offers a subtle smile, showing teeth whiter than pearls. They were framed by her porcelain face, which was surrounded by sleek, dark red hair. Like pearls and rubies.

I hold out the note pad and pen. She takes them from my hands, and for the barest moment, our fingers brush the other. That one moment sends live voltage shooting up my arm.

She then beckons me inside her room, because it's not safe for us to be seen interacting so openly. We go in, and I make sure to close the door behind us.

She writes below my note, her handwriting ever neater than mine, and gives me back the pad. It says, "It's okay. You're forgiven. What's your name?"

I write, "Darius. You?"

"Lavinia. You have a very nice name."

I smile at her, and she smiles back. I nod in thanks. "Thank you. I like your name too. It suits you."

"Why are you an Avox?" she writes.

I take the note pad and pen. "I was once a Peacekeeper in Disctrict Twelve. I tried to save a friend of Katniss', Gale, from being whipped to death for something that didn't deserve it. " I don't want to elaborate further, even though Lavinia is probably the last living person that will truly understand me.

Thankfully, she doesn't pry. She writes three very simple words. "Are you okay?"

I nod. "Yes." Even if it might not be true, I don't want to seem weak.

Instead of writing, she gently puts down the pad and pen and takes one of my hands in hers. Her hands seem so small compared to mine, but they are slender and strong. Our fingers entwine together, sharing warmth. Even if we could still talk, we didn't need to say anything.

We sit down on the small bed. She edges close to me and rests her head on my shoulder. I lean my head on hers. We both feel lonely, but not now.

After a while she gently picks up the pen and note pad again and starts to write.

"I used to live in the Capitol. I tried to escape with my brother. But we were caught. They were in their hovercraft, and they killed him. I screamed when it happened. They caught me in a net, and from far away I saw them. Katniss and Gale, though I didn't know them then. They brought me back to the Capitol, and... punished me."

I nodded, not sure how to respond exactly. So I held her hands in mine once more. We stay close together, her head on my shoulder again, and mine on hers.

A loud knock startles us. She straightens, pushing away from me, her eyes wide and scared. I do the same, desperately seeing if I could somehow hide or otherwise make my presence undetectable, even though it's absolutely impossible.

But, thankfully, whoever it was didn't bother opening the door. He simply shouts, "It's dinnertime! Be in the kitchen in fifteen minutes!" and then does the same to my door, not knowing I wasn't there. I hadn't noticed at all—the last time I looked out the window it was bright and hot outside—but it was now quite dark.

Lavinia and I breathe a sigh of relief. She looks down at me, because I'm posed in a crouch at the foot of the bed that for some reason I thought would make me invisible. I straighten up as she begins to laugh at me, or at least what we Avoxes can manage of laughter.

Smiling myself, I grab the pen and note pad, quickly scribbling, "Who's laughing at who now?" and show it to her.

She's still smiling widely, and I think to myself that she looks very pretty that way. Not just pretty—beautiful. She calms herself down, and envelopes me in a hug. Not exactly something I was expecting, but I am definitely not complaining. I wrap my arms around her.

Both of us bearing passive expressions, we go out into the hallway, but neither of us can hide the expressions of humour that occasionally pass our faces.

The hallway is almost impractically long, but right before we turn a corner Lavinia glances sideways at me with an unreadable expression. I long to ask her how she's feeling when she suddenly stops walking and kisses my cheek, right beside my mouth. She has to tiptoe because I'm so tall. It lasts only for a second, and the words I wouldn't have been able to say die in my throat, but it still makes me blush wildly and my mouth hang open.

She pulls back, rocking slightly on the heels of her feet. Her face is brilliantly red, as is mine, matching our hair... and our outfits. It's a little ironic, somehow. Ha, a matching pair... if Effie could see us now. Well, not really, because this is forbidden and we would be punished rather severely, but...

Lavinia give me another small smile and holds her hand out to me. But instead of just holding it, I raise it to my mouth and press my lips to it, having to stoop slightly because of our height difference. Her blush intensifies, and she moves her hand to my cheek. I silently mouth two words, marred by my lack of a tongue. Even though they wouldn't have been understandable, she knows what I mean to say and strokes my cheek, a gesture that says what I mean more clearly.

We continue walking to the kitchen, wary of being late. Again, this construes punishment. We don't look at each other, because we've already risked enough as it is. But we struggle to hide our smiles, because our looking too happy would be suspicious. As we serve Katniss, Peeta, Haymitch, and Effie, as well as Cinna and Portia, we occasionally exchange meaningful looks, but not too much.

Katniss accidentally upends a dish of peas, sending them rolling on the floor. I quickly dive down to clean them up, and she does the same. She looks straight into my eyes as we tightly grasp our hands, speaking silently. We're covered by the table, but Effie says, "That isn't your job, Katniss!"

I released her hands and continued to clean up the peas. I gather them into their dish and bring them back into the kitchen. Behind me, Lavinia wipes the streaks of butter off the floor.

They all finish dinner and exit the dining room to watch the recap of the opening ceremony. Once we're done cleaning the dining room and dishes, we're free to go back to our rooms. We won't be disturbed unless one of them calls for us.

The other servants leave me and Lavinia to finish up the dishes. Being unable to protest, we go along with it, with her scrubbing the plates and utensils and me drying them. The kitchen is almost completely silent, but it's a comfortable kind of silence. Once we're done, we exit, and return to our rooms. As we start to walk down the hallway, I grab her hand and I continue holding it. Once at our doors, she gently lays a hand on my shoulder, and presses the other to her lips. She then stretches three fingers out to me. I put my own to my lips as well, then touch my hand to hers, mirroring her gesture. She gives me a small smile as I put my hand on her cheek and gently brush my fingers over her skin, and we part ways for the night.

I lie by myself in my warm bed, thinking, maybe we're not as alone as I thought.


Hope you liked it, guys!

I also made a forum to be dedicated to these two: forum. fanfiction .net/forum/Enjoy_the_Silence/108010/ (remove the spaces)

Please don't favourite without reviewing. (Because I'd like to know what you liked so much about it!)