Rambling Beauty
Disclaimer: I own nothing but any OC's you find.
AN: I was so shocked by the fact that people are actually reading this, and the fact that I already got a review, that I decided to go ahead and upload the next chapter! The one is a bit slow, I think, but the story definitely speeds up in the next coming chapters. Actually, I might end up having to up the rating. If that bothers anyone let me know in a review! I mean, eventually it will have to go up,seeing as Finnick is a main character and a lot of this will take place during his time in the Capitol, but for now I don't know if I want to raise it or not. But enough with my rambling! Read on!
Chapter One
The Capitol
Six Months Later
Colletta always found the Victory Banquet to be the most tiresome event of the entire Hunger Games. Mostly it was because she had no choice but to attend. But there was always something vulgar about the dignitaries getting completely wasted and fawning over a kid who had just been forced to murder his peers. This year, the sixty-fifth games, was no exception. They crowded around the poor boy with feral looks of admiration, and something else. She could see which ones were planning to buy a night with him as soon as he was old enough. He was still so young; only her age, she reckoned. Maybe that was why she felt such a sudden fierce protectiveness towards him.
"Excuse me," she murmured, shoving through the crowd of admirers. When they saw who it was that was elbowing them, they moved out of her way like a parting of the sea. She had this effect on people, given her generally unpleasant disposition. The crowd around him was smaller now, the only people surrounding the victor being people too important to be bothered by her attitude and his mentor.
"Uncle Jack!" She exclaimed, trying to be heard over the din of the banquet room. "I believe mom needs a hand with something." In truth, her mom was probably lying down from her headache that the tumor had given her. "She's sick again."
The color washed away from her uncle's face as he turned away from the victor. He knew how bad it had been last time a tumor was found in her mother's brain. "Is she resting?" He asked, slurring a little from the pink drink in his hand.
Colletta nodded. "But she was asking for you."
He was gone in an instant, leaving Colletta alone with the victor, whose name she could not remember, and his mentor, who was watching her through inquisitive and wizened eyes.
"Finnick," the old woman said, drawing his attention away from some reporter that had showed up out of nowhere. "This is—"
"Robin." He finished, wrongly. Colletta blinked in confusion, something tugging at her memory. "You're the one who gave away all that money back in January."
That was right, she remembered. She had thought that he looked familiar. "My name's not Robin Hood." She told him, taking his arm and, rather forcefully, dragging him away from the mentor and, more importantly, the reporter. "It's Colletta Snow."
He stopped, yanking her back. "Snow?" He asked, eyes wide, looking her up and down. "That explains a lot."
"Like what?" She snapped. She was trying to help him and here he was insinuating things about her.
"Relax," he told her with an easy grin. He wrapped her fingers around his upper arm and started walking again. "I just meant, you know, how secretive you were. And why you weren't at all concerned with getting caught stealing from the Head Peacekeeper."
"Yes, well," she stammered, feeling oddly flustered, "No one has ever caught me before."
"So should I feel special?" He asked as they reached the lantern-lit balcony that over-looked the City Circle.
"Maybe," she shrugged, leaning against the marble railing. She could smell the roses from one of grandfather's gardens. "Look, I brought you out here for a reason."
"And what would that be?" He asked, looking out over the city. Colletta often wondered how it felt to see the view for the first time. She bet he felt like he was on top of the world.
"I come to you with a warning." She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. One could never be too careful, even if they were they President's granddaughter. She didn't know how to start. Most people thought that Victors were free from worry once they won the games, but in reality they were probably the most chained. How did you tell someone that when they had earned what they had just escaped the Games? She felt him tense next to her and decided to go with bluntness—it had never failed her in the past. "They're going to turn you into a—" What was the right term to use?—"slave once you are old enough."
"A slave?" He echoed, turning to look at her. "Define 'slave.'"
"Someone who performs sexual acts in exchange for not getting the shit beat out of them. Or, I guess in your case, in exchange for your loved ones not getting the shit beat out of them." There. Bluntness always worked for her. But apparently it didn't work for him.
"You're lying." He said, narrowing his sea green eyes at her. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"Do you have anyone who depends on you?" She asked, evading his question. "Whether you want to believe me or not is up to you, but I thought you should have a heads up."
"Does everybody get this heads up?" He asked, leaning back on his elbows. He watched the party inside unfold, his expression suddenly less cheerful.
She shook her head. "Not really."
He looked at her, his expression hard. "Then why me?"
She shrugged. What had her motivation been? She had already forgotten. "It's a consolation prize," she finally said, "for being the only person in Panem to catch me in the act." She tried to give him one of her characteristic, dazzling smiles, but her heart just wasn't into it. She watched him turn back to the crowd and felt bad. Maybe she should have just kept her mouth shut. This was why she was never nice to people. "Do you wanna get out of here?" She asked suddenly, feeling like a caged tiger.
He gave her a funny look. "And go where?"
"Anywhere!" She glanced back at the banquet. By now everyone was too drunk to notice if the Victor was missing. "Come on. Rebel a little."
Finnick had been wary about leaving the Banquet; especially if the punishment was someone he cared about getting hurt, so Colletta had taken him to her favorite courtyard. The white roses surrounding them filled the night air with genetically modified fragrance and the sky was starting to turn peach. She had lost track of how long they had been away from the party, but figured it must be ending soon. Someone would be looking for both of them. She had no idea how time had gone by so fast; they had been doing nothing but talking. And for the first time that she could remember, Colletta found herself enjoying someone's company.
"The Banquet will be winding down soon," she said, nodding to the sun-tinged sky.
"Should we go back?" He asked, his eyes unfocused. He looked exhausted. She didn't blame him; the Victory Banquet had started early in the evening.
"Maybe someone will come find us." She yawned, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen underneath her for a second, but he relaxed quickly, resting his head on to of hers. "I could totally go to sleep like this."
She felt him laugh. "Me too. I don't think I've ever been this tired."
"Not even in the Games?" She asked, lifting her head up to gauge his reaction. He shook his head, though, his eyes closed. They both needed to find beds. But Colletta was perfectly content to go to sleep on the stone bench where they sat. "Finnick, we really should get back."
He sighed dramatically, but got to his feet, unsteadily helping her up along the way. If someone saw them in the hall, they might assume the worst, she thought vaguely, leaning into him.
When they got back to the banquet hall, most of the guests were leaving. His mentor rushed over to them when she caught sight of them and her brother was immediately at her elbow, ready to escort her to her bedroom.
"Where have you been?" Nicolai asked brusquely. He eyed Finnick in what she assumed was supposed to be a threatening manner.
"We were talking." She argued. "Is it so wrong for me to actually enjoy myself?"
He gave her a hard look before answering. "Considering that it is you, yes, it is. What did you do? Blow something up? Make small children cry? Rob a bank?"
She laughed how close he was to being right with the last point. "Relax, Nicki." She slurred tiredly, knowing he hated that nickname. The people watching probably thought she was drunk. It was a vast improvement from their usual opinion of her, though, so she laughed again. "We were just talking. I took him to the white garden. I actually had fun. Don't ruin my good mood."
"You and fun don't go together." Nicolai teased. But he let the subject drop, choosing to glare at Finnick instead. She always found it odd when he became all protective—most of the time he was picking on her for not being the perfect example of what a Snow should be.
"So, big brother, what new scandal have they made up about me tonight?" She asked. Colletta had always been the tabloids favorite victim ever since she accidentally set the curtains on fire at the fifty-ninth Victory Banquet. They had all harped that she had been drunk (even though she had only been eight) and unsupervised (also not true, but she never paid Nicolai much heed when she was younger).
He clenched his jaw, but ignored the question. "Say goodbye to your new friend, Letta. You know how father doesn't like you to be out of bed at this hour."
Like a petulant child, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I don't care what father says. He too busy with mom." Triumphantly, she watched her brother as his gaze soften. Their mother was wearing all of them down, but not one person in all of Panem could really blame her. They had taken her to every specialist in the Capitol, but with no luck. Colletta often wondered how the most powerful family in Panem couldn't beat out a stupid tumor.
"I saw that she was gone," Nicolai said softly. He looked like he was about to cry.
Oh, really, she huffed internally. She turned to Finnick, who was watching her wearily, although that could have just been the sleep trying to take him under. "I had a good time," she told him, sounding every bit like she hadn't. "I'll see you around." Before he could respond—she always had to get the last word—she spun on her very expensive heel and left him staring after her, just like before.
