The Hunger Games: The Alliance
Chapter Three

"Johanna, you can't be serious. She filed her teeth after the games?" Octavia spluttered. She stared up at the screen and Enobaria and Brutus held their hands high in the air as the crowd chanted their name. They egged them on with their own war cries. The careers seemed to be excited to go back into the Games, or they had an easier time accepting it. Octavia didn't know if she should have been afraid, or just disgusted at their displays.

Johanna nodded, "It's easier to rip people's throats out—she's gone off the other edge instead of self-loathing." She began flipping through the Tributes, most of which Octavia could recognize. However, she didn't know who allies, something Johanna seemed to know was. They went over each Victor's weakness and strength, planning on pulling certain people into their group.

They were once meaningless stats that she didn't need to pay attention to. She had done her time in the games, and everything about them seemed to blur after. She didn't need to go back into the games and she hadn't mentored. It was just more memorization over people who were already dead.

When Johanna stopped on District 4, Octavia rose from her seat. "Mags volunteered!" she shouted, and waved her hand towards the screen in disbelief. She watched Finnick Odair take Mags into his arms and rub her back in a soothing manner as Annie Cresta broke down beside them after her name had been called.

She rubbed her temple, as her anger began to get the best of her. "This is utter bullshit—how can she go back into the games?" She questioned.

Johanna shrugged, "She volunteered for Annie—the girl is isn't all there and Mags is."

"Bullshit—Annie shouldn't have let her. I know she isn't there, but we can't protect Mags and Katniss," Octavia hissed. "I'm not letting Mags die, she deserves to die in peace and not from being killed by a career or the arena itself," Octavia ranted.

She was on edge and twitchy. She yearned to be in the training room in the hand-to-hand combat section. She flexed her fingers every so often, and stalked the room like a caged predator, failing in her attempts to calm herself. That's what she was, a caged predator, something to be revered and afraid of by the way she was able to kill without blinking.

Johanna moved through the rest of the footage and Octavia could see why she was excited about the other Tributes. They had either been friends with Johanna before her own games, or she knew they were smart, strong, and wrathful. Each of them had a reason to loathe the Capitol and wish for its downfall.

Her irritation only grew further as she watched each of the Districts Riots. Despite their earlier interactions with the peacekeepers they still took the risk of trying to defy the Capitol—it was courageous. Octavia had grown a new found respect for Panem.

The peacekeepers stormed the screens like soldiers and disposed of those in their paths by either execution or fear.

"We'll get them back Octavia, in the end. It's almost time for the Victor's parade—we should go start getting ready. If my stylist puts me in a tree one more time," Johanna threatened. "I'll throw myself from my chariot and let the horses run me over." She rolled her eyes and moved from the couch.

Octavia laughed. Their District had always dressed as trees or lumberjacks, and neither was a flattering look. She was surprised when Johanna first appeared in the same themed costume at her crowning ceremony. Her surprise turned to amusement when she showed up to the Capitol each time in the theme. Her stylist was unoriginal and didn't seem to mind keeping her whole wardrobe within the same theme.

She ran her hand over her face and trailed over her braid, "I have trust in Lear to make me look absolutely Capitol," Octavia grinned.

Johanna gave a mocking laugh, "I hope he turns you into an ugly power worker." She pressed the elevator and the women waited.

"That's just rude and uncalled for," Octavia sang.

Their relationship was a naturally teasing one, and they shared a similar sense of humor. It was planted in the devastating truth that they were expendable. The Capitol used them for amusement, but even if they were beloved, they were interchangeable with the rest of the Victors.

Inside the elevator was Mags, coming down from the top floor. Her grey hair was in a long braid down her back, and the women were excited to see their longtime friend. Octavia pulled the woman into her arms and hugged her hard, trying to convey all of her emotions into the one action. Johanna hesitated, she could not be seen to love anyone, and rubbed Mags shoulder with affection.

"Oh Mags!" Octavia cupped her face and laid her forehead against the older woman's' for a moment, "I'm so sorry you have to be here—if I was there, you wouldn't be here. I'm so sorry," Octavia whispered over and over again. Mags had been her first true friend, and was the first Mentor from an outside District to approach her and introduce herself. Where her Mentor had failed, Mags had stepped in. She taught her how to cope with her life afterwards and took care of her night terrors for the first few months.

Mags shook her head and took Octavia's hands in her own, then placed them over her heart with a big smile on her face.

"You know I will do anything, please know that. I'm your ally, alright? Finnick doesn't have to accept it, but I'm your ally first and foremost," Octavia exclaimed. Mags nodded her head and began to stroke Octavia's hair with affection, before pointing to the braid on the side of her head.

Octavia smiled and backed away from her. She took her hand and tentatively touched the braid with a smile, "It was Lear's idea. It's to help it not get in the way when we're in the Arena—it also looks rather nice," she confessed.

Mags gave a nod of approval.

"It does look good on you Octavia," said casually. "What she said, Mags. We're here to help each other and I suspect you're aware," Johanna gently tapped the side of her hair, where Mags had a gold clip in her hair.

Mags nodded and took both of their hands in her own, squeezing them tight.

They escorted Mags through the training room, and towards the area where each would be styled. They were small cubicles and between them was a larger area for bathing and bigger parts of their beauty treatments.

The careers were on their usual prowl, examining every possible person they wanted to bring into their circle. It unnerved Octavia, the way they eyed Mags, staring at her like a piece of meat ready for a slaughter. Johanna and Octavia tightened their grip on her and stared down the career pack. They were just as Capitol as the rest of them.

Octavia stopped Mags from going into the room and gave her another hug, wrapping her arms around Mags shoulders. "I want you to know that if anything happens—you have done so much for me. No one can ever come close to the kindness you've shown me," Octavia sniffled. Mags nodded her head and gave Octavia a kiss on her forehead. She touched her finger to Octavia's chest and then touched her own with a smile.

"I know," Octavia nodded.

Mags left into the room and they could see her stylist still working on something, "Make her look good!" Johanna called, before they shut the door.

"I wouldn't want to listen to you either," Octavia smiled.

They stayed outside for a few minutes, chatting about the careers and what alliances they could see them making, if any. Octavia saw Lear appear out of their door and tap his wrist, while shooting her a pointed look. Octavia gave him a guilty smile before focusing on Johanna.

"He's going to come over here if I don't leave," she sighed. She loved Lear, but he had a knack for making himself known at the worst moments, including when strategy was being made.

Johanna huffed, "I don't like my stylist though—why do you have to like yours?"

"He's a Victor maker, that's why. I have to look my best to ignore the crowds," Octavia laughed.

Johanna began walking towards her room, "The way you talk is going to get us executed!" she called over her shoulder than turned around, still walking backwards to her room. Her usual defiant smirk was splayed across her face.

"Johanna, you forgot. We're already dead!" Octavia shot back, and began her walk to her room. Lear was tapping his foot anxiously as she approached and opened the door for her. It was just as she remembered, and down to the last detail.

It was a small room with a few tables inside and on each cart had enough products to last an entire district a lifetime. They had four hours to get ready, but only two of them were needed—the rest of the time was used to gain sponsors if you didn't have them already.

"You, are not another dead tribute—"

"—I know! It's called humor, Lear. Johanna and I share a very dark humor," Octavia defended herself. "It just makes the whole thing easier. You can't be afraid of death if you're joking about it."

Lear began moving through his drawings at her statement, and finally pulled one out and handed her the laminated paper. Depicted was a small drawing of her with a black lace body suit on and the same type of shoulder pads from her previous outfit. Large chunky wooden bangles were shown on the drawings wrist and the shoes were accompanied with black knee high stockings.

The page itself glimmered and sparkled, and she stared at the outfit with awe.

"You're going to have parts of the lace light up with electricity, and it will run around the body suit at random. Many of the other tributes will be dressed in one attribute of their District. You however will also have thunder. I'll have the control switch of it, so you don't have to worry about it.

"I want to make a statement. You aren't from the power district—you are the power district," He explained.

"It's perfect, but do you have it?" she wondered.

Lear looked offended, "How can I show this to my favorite Victor, and then not have it?" He questioned.

Octavia laughed and nodded, "fair enough."

The team was unleashed on her once again, but their work was done with haste and precision. It was not laid back and done with ease like the last time. They re-dyed her hair into a darker, chocolate brown, and tanned her skin. She was a shade darker than normal, and it seemed to even out her overall skin tone. They plucked each hair that couldn't be viciously pulled from her with hot wax.

The process was tedious and straining, and it didn't help that her stylists would give her looks of pity and be forced to excuse themselves from her.

They painted her nails and elongated them, something she would remove when it came to going into the games. They pulled both of her sides back, braiding them and letting the rest of her hair flow down her back. It created a halo, or rather a lion's mane.

"I don't know if this is what the picture looked like," she worried.

"It's what the women from Old Norse Mythology looked like. I had to do some slight digging in the Capitol's library, but some of our ancestors were once warriors for a purpose. Their women had braids in their hair like this," Lear smiled. "Your campaign is based off of it, and the angel of war looks well on you."

He dismissed her fears and began to finish the tweaks he had made on her body suit, "now this should do it," he said. "I've cut a hole near your chest so that the necklace can be seen by other Victors."

A loud banging startled them all, and the room fell silent to its dangerous noise.

Lear quickly looked to Octavia and pressed his finger to his lips, and motioned for her to stand behind the curtain. It was unusual to have someone interrupt the time Tributes took to dress and prepare themselves for the parade. It could only have meant a few things.

"Hello?" Lear questioned. He opened the door gently and stood in front of it, shielding the rest of the room from the interrupters view.

"It's just me!" Amaltheia pushed her way into the room. "Effie said Octavia came this way, and I have something to add to her dress."

Octavia came out from behind the curtain, letting her muscles relax. Amaltheia smiled and walked over to her Victor.

"You scared us," Octavia let out a breath.

"I'm sorry, but I had to get this to you right away," she pressed a gold ring into Octavia's hand. She began inspecting it, before placing it on her middle finger with ease.

"It's Effie's token, besides her hair. She said to show it to Peeta and he'll know what it means," Amaltheia explained in a hushed tone. She hugged Octavia once more, before standing next to Lear.

The ring on her finger carried a heavier weight and with each passing second it was becoming more real. They were all part of something bigger, in the grand scheme of things.

Lear and Amaltheia began talking, and Octavia drowned out their conversation until Lear's voice became clearer.

"…we have to get her dressed now. She's going to be fine, Theia," she heard Lear.

She moved back behind the curtain and began to undress. She inspected her body as she pulled her clothes off and was handed new things. The body suit slid over her body with ease, and her back was exposed down to her lower back. She did not see that part of the costume, and a few of her injuries from the first game could be seen over the middle of her back.

Her lightning had begun, shimmering and moving through the fabric as if it was meant to do that. Her body felt electric, and she felt it hum with power.

The crew began to fluff her hair up further and placed her accessories on her wrists, along with the necklace, and fixed her makeup. It was a striking contrast between her hazel eyes and the black around her eyes.

Amaltheia cried out, "You look so beautiful."

Octavia blushed at her compliment and shrugged it off. She had rarely felt beautiful, and in fact she felt rather plain when in comparison to the women who came before her and then after her. She turned in front of the mirror, and with a content sigh she could appreciate her outfit. In that light she looked radiant, and never had she felt it before.

"I feel great—I would love it a bit more if it wasn't for this parade," she laughed bitterly.

Lear placed his large hands on top of her collar bone, "In spite of that—the outfit is beautiful, but it's only enhancing what was already there."

The crew nodded in agreement and whispered encouragement as she did another spin in the mirror. She made her way to the door and placed her hand on the handle, before turning to look at them.

"Wish me luck?" she asked.

Lear started, "You don't need it, but because you—"

"—good luck!" Amaltheia interrupted.

Octavia smiled and opened the door. She moved through the apartments and towards the front where the peacekeepers were. The tributes were not to be seen by the public until it was time to introduce them formally and start the games.

Mags was already standing there in a beautiful green silk and sequined dress. Her hair in long waves with gold accessories. Katniss Everdeen was at her side talking, and Octavia was grateful, because the career pack seemed to already be there. It seemed to be a first for many things, as they usually stayed in their suits until the last minute. They were pampered peacocks, who cared for nothing other than a good appearance.

They would be taking cars to the Capitol square.

"Mags!" Octavia called out, "You look so beautiful," she smiled and held her hand out to help Mags give her a spin. Mags appeared bashful and took Octavia's hand in her own.

Katniss looked between them, a look of puzzlement across her face. "Are you two friends?" she questioned.

"Mags and I go way back to my game. She helped me through a very rough time, and I would protect her with my life," Octavia proclaimed. Her friendly smile did not leave her face, but the undertone and bite of her words was made clear. If Katniss was looking for an alliance, she would have to deal with both of them.

"It's good that you have friends like Octavia and Haymitch," Katniss pondered. It didn't add up inside her head. How someone who appeared so blood thirsty and vicious inside of the arena could be gentle and caring for someone one who was physically weaker and could not offer any support back.

"The peacekeepers are coming, you should head to your car," Octavia warned.

"I'll see you two at the parade then," Katniss nodded and walked back over to Peeta who seemed to be having an intense conversation with Finnick Odair.

Johanna made her way past the careers with a few insults thrown, and she was seething. She pushed a morphling out of her way and scowled.

"I'm a fucking tree again! I can't—I'm throwing myself from the chariot, and you! Look at you! You look so damn good, and I hate you. I can't believe I'm another tree. Blight is a lumber jack!" Johanna threw a hissy fit, before stomping over to their car. Lear had arranged for Octavia to be escorted to the square in District 7's car. She had no partner, and in return was able to sit with Blight and Johanna.

She gave Mags an apologetic smile and helped her into District 4's car, before moving back to her own and sliding in with Johanna.

The drive was quick, and they were escorted from the cars to the holding center. Octavia stuck to Johanna and Mags with caution. Her main concern was keeping the careers away from Mags while Finnick was winning sponsors for them. Johanna and Octavia didn't care much for sponsors now, but their District need it and they couldn't fault him for his precautions.

Katniss and Peeta stayed together while the Careers eyed them up.

Johanna was also eyeing them, and a smirk played on her lips.

"I told you," she mouthed.

"They're together as far as we know—she looks so protective of him," Octavia muttered. They had this conversation each day during the 74th Hunger Games.

"We're protective of each other, and I don't see myself banging you anytime soon," Johanna said bluntly. "He's kind of cute too—do you think she would share?"

Octavia snorted, attracting attention from a few people, "I highly doubt it, sweetheart. As for not banging me—you wouldn't even know where to start," Octavia teased. She ran one of her hands from the top of her breast down to her thigh in a seductive manner.

A low whistle came from behind them, and she turned her head to see Finnick standing with a sugar cube in his mouth and his bro raised in a suggestive manner.

"Now, isn't this a sight. Who do you think could start on that?" he inquired.

Octavia groaned, "No one here, Odair. You're barking up the wrong tree."

She had met him once before, and he had shamelessly flirted with her along with every other female Victor that was presented to him. She had watched him dance with almost every eligible woman at the President's mansion during her Victory part. He floated from dance partner to another and for at times would disappear without a word.

The Capitol adored him. The men wanted to be like him, while the women wanted to be the accessory on his arm.

"That's not very nice, and you don't look happy to see me at all," he concluded.

Johanna snickered, "Your reputation always proceeds you, Odair."

"Reputation? You mean that I'm devilishly handsome and humble" He questioned and Octavia shook her head.

"Your ego," she quipped.

"Ah, that—I have to say you aren't known for that little girl act you put on either. I've heard quite a few rumors about you, Miss Blake. Your temper proceeds you, and maybe I should be the one weary of your company," he concluded and popped another sugar cube into his mouth, as he approached them. He stood on Octavia's other side and looked towards Mags. "You look radiant as always, and I'm sure you will outshine Everdeen."

"We were just telling her that," Johanna said.

Finnick turned to her and gave her a look over before cracking a smile, "You on the other hand look like a tree."

"Shut up, Odair! At least I have on clothes. Can you even call those pants?" Johanna sassed. Octavia then noticed his lack of attire and had to look away. He was in nothing but a small net and some cloth around his waist and top of his thighs. A gold sea shell necklace hung around his neck, and his hair looked like it had been blown around by the wind.

"I can't help it if they'd rather see more of me—though I'm not complaining that District 5 has gotten racier this year," he grinned.

"Its high fashion," Octavia defended.

"The lace work is wonderful—reminds me of a net I made a few years back," he reached out for her side and ran his fingers over the lace, the electricity running through his fingers. "Though it's a shame that window isn't any lower," he said in a teasing manner.

"You're a pig," Octavia snorted.

"I prefer the term Honest," he finally took his hand away from her side and looked towards District 12. "Who wants to come bother the star-crossed lovers?" He questioned, but did not wait for anyone to answer before stalking towards them.

"Mags, how do you put up with him?" Johanna laughed and Mags shook her head. "Octavia, you should go save the Girl on Fire. She looks like she's drowning. He's a lot to take in—Go!" Johanna insisted and pushed her off towards the group.

Octavia glared back at her friend, almost tripping after the push. She moved over towards the smaller group and listened in.

"So, do you have any secrets to trade?" He questioned Katniss.

"I don't have any secrets, it seems that everyone knows them, before I do," she said coldly. Octavia could sense her hesitation and elbowed Finnick in the ribs. He grinned down at her, and wrapped one of his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his side. She hit his chest and tried to push away from him, but he was stronger.

"That's a shame," he scolded. "Octavia here is like you in that aspect, but I'm close to cracking her. It's been my job to dabble in secret keeping now and again."

Octavia hissed, "You keep thinking that, and yet we've talked twice now—"

"—and I will find out everything you think is even worth hiding," he insisted. It made Octavia struggle harder. "However, until I do. I'll have to settle for assuming everything and anything until proven wrong. Sugar cube?" He held one out for Katniss.

"Those are for the horses," she said.

"They are, but they'll have the rest of their lives to eat them—we only have a few weeks," he popped another inside of his mouth.

"Odair, if you don't release me now I'm pushing you into the first source of water I see!" she threatened.

Finnick placed his free hand over his heart, "She knows how to get a guy going."

Katniss was blushing, and Octavia assumed it was due to her Districts policy on marriage. The further you moved from the Capitol the more traditional it was. The girl probably didn't even know anything about sexual attraction, besides any feelings she may have had herself—if she had the feeling.

"I'm sorry about him, but he's usually less annoying from what Johanna says. I think it's the air," Octavia hypothesized.

Katniss finally cracked a smile and began to pet her horse again as Peeta approached. "It seems like that for everyone."

"I'm going to take fish boy back with me now," Octavia apologized again and took hold of Finnick's arm, and started to drag him away from District 12 as he shouted his goodbyes. He laughed and threaded his fingers through hers casually, and she couldn't pull away from him.

"Will you quit doing that?" she snarled.

"Enjoy it! This could be the last bit of human contact we both have for a while," he joked.

She squeezed his hand hard, thinking he would let go, but he did not budge. She shook her head, "If one of us dies, then I'll hold your hand as you die—just let it go before Snow sees."

"I can't do that," he smiled, but his face quickly changed when he saw Haymitch and Effie talking to Johanna. Mags was sitting by herself at their chariot. Brutus was standing in front of her, his arms crossed and he bent over her.

Octavia followed his line of sight and began rushing with him, as he practically dragged her do to his height and length of steps.

"…none of us want to kill an old lady, but you have a target on you when you ally yourself with that peacock. We want him, the short one, and District 12."

Octavia went to pull away from Finnick, but he held her back and moved between Mags and Brutus.

"I suggest you move along. She doesn't need any of your advice, Career," Finnick spat. Octavia glared from her spot beside him.

She pressed her finger into Brutus's chest, "I don't want to start the games early, but I'd make an exception for you."

Brutus laughed, "I see you've already formed an alliance," he motioned towards their hands. "It's a shame—we were looking forward to having you on our team for a while. It could have been," he looked around, "enlightening," he said suggestively. His gaze scanned over her body, and her blood began to boil.

She felt vulnerable to his eyes.

"Rot in hell," she spat at him.

He squinted and wiped her spit from his face, flinging it to the ground. "You'll regret this 5! You think you had a target before—watch out now," he shook with rage.

Johanna rushed to them with Haymitch hot on her heels. They had drawn the attention of everyone.

"What just happened?" she questioned Octavia, while Brutus stomped away back to his pack.

"He threatened Mags. He kept staring—his father—I didn't like the way he looked at me," Octavia stammered. "I fucked myself over in there—all of us, didn't I?"

Johanna rubbed her back, and turned to look at the careers.

"No! You did what any of us would have," Johanna reassured her.

Octavia bit her lip, keeping the tears at bay as a gentle hand rested against the back of her head, cupping it and she was pulled into Finnick's chest as Johanna rubbed her back. Haymitch blocked the careers view of her along with Finnick, and she was grateful.

"I would offer you a tissue, but I'm afraid I would be naked," Finnick teased.

Johanna looked over her friend's head at Finnick. He understood what she had meant, and his understanding for her situation was more than Johanna could comprehend.

"I don't think we want that," Octavia said with a watery smile.

"Don't let them get to you, and they won't get to Mags. There are three of you—none of you are carrying this alone. I'll do my part as well to get you all taken care of" Haymitch informed them. They all nodded and Mags walked over to Octavia and hugged her side tightly. Finnick kept his arm draped around her shoulder, keeping her from the others view.

"You are a good girl," Mags whispered to her.

Octavia knew how hard it was for Mags to speak. Her vocals had been crushed during the 11th Hunger Games, and she never fully recovered.

"Haymitch, you should go back to your star-crossed lovers. We've got it from here," Johanna told him. She rubbed Octavia's back once more.

"It seems I'll have to. They're starting soon and I need a drink," he concluded. He swaggered away, and pulled out his flask as he headed back to his Victors. Octavia couldn't blame him for drinking.

"Do you think you can stay here while I run to get Lear?" Johanna asked.

Octavia nodded.

"I'll watch out for her, go," Finnick said as he wrapped an arm around Mags.

Johanna rushed through the throng of sponsors and Capitol Elites who were allowed into the area for the special occasion. Octavia sat down with Mags on the chariot while Finnick stood in front of them, a wall of muscle to block them from the view of the world.

Octavia reached out and grabbed his hand to get his attention. He looked down curiously. "Thank you," she breathed out.

He waved it off, "That's what Ally's do."

"Is that what we are?" she questioned, genuinely curious. She had offered Mags an alliance, but not Finnick—no he had not taken to any alliances during his game. He seemed to be the one who enjoyed his solitude.

He smiled down at her and brought his hand to his chest, tapping the intricate bracelet on his wrist. He then motioned to her neck and finger.

"We're on the same side this time."