Chapter Six: Crooked Smiles
A/N: Over 50 reviews, nearly 60 favourites and nearly 100 follows! You guys are too good to me. I know The Hunger Games period doesn't span a huge amount of time, but I've got a bit more to focus on before Catching Fire.
A huge thanks to my reviewers: FollowTheSun22, Heyyy, Total Targaryen, MsRose91, koryandrs, Lucy Greenhill, Darth Rapture, xlittleredx, klandgraf2007, canna29, avr1432, my guests and especially kelsey731 for her multiple reviews! You all rock! Please let me know what you think of this chapter :)
"All these crooks and all these liars
All got away with every ounce of everyone else's pride
I've got a weary heart and faceless name
I can't take this, but I'll take it till I die
All these crooks and liars with their crooked smiles."
- Crooked Smiles, Framing Hanley
Elethea's POV
"Don't be such a prude," Hyperion snarls. He twists my wrist hard and causes me to cry out, but I'm too angry to care. This bastard thinks he can just…follow me up here and expect to get what he wants? There's nothing in this for me, no tributes to save. I don't have to play the good little girl, and so I refuse to. I try and kick him, but the force of the movement is hampered by my long dress.
He backhands me hard enough that my knees give way and I collapse to the floor, a shaking and undignified mess. I'm pissed at Hyperion because he seems to think Victors are here to pleasure him at his beck and call. He's drunk, I can tell by his slurred words and the slight flush in his cheeks. I might be a courtesan, but I am not going to be degraded in the living room of my own apartment.
Hyperion grabs me by the hair and yanks me up, hard. I scream in pain and kick again, one of my heels catching him in the shin. He howls and releases me, and I clench my hands into fists. I am a Victor. I killed to win the 69th Hunger Games. I could do some real damage to Hyperion…but I know that either my mother or Finnick would pay for it. So all I can do is stand there breathing heavily, incensed, as Hyperion's eyes narrow.
"You seem to have forgotten your place," he hisses at me. He seizes a handful of hair again and pushes me so that I'm bent over the couch. "You are nothing but a whore, Elethea Ambrose. You can play proud all you want, but in the end, you'll always spread your legs."
"What is going on?"
I look up to see Finnick entering the room, his jaw clenched as he sees that Hyperion has me sprawled over the edge of the couch. My tormenter laughs harshly, releasing me and stepping away. I push myself up and attempt to fix my dress and appear composed. Finnick strides towards Hyperion like a hunter stalking his prey. I remember his Games, and I can see the killer in him now.
If it was Gloss standing there now, he would have beaten Hyperion bloody. But Finnick isn't Gloss, he has more control than that. By his clenched fists, I can tell that he wants to hurt Hyperion, badly. But instead he jerks his head towards the door.
"Get out."
"You don't command me, boy," Hyperion sneers at him. This man isn't just drunk on alcohol, but on his own power and his ability to hold it over our heads, forcing us to obey. He seems oblivious to the fact that he's in a room with two angry Victors who have killed people to stay alive in the past. "Who do you two think you are? I'm a former Gamemaker and you are nothing, just adults grown from scared children who had the luck to win their Games."
With that, he offers us one final sneer, before sweeping from the room. I sit down on the couch heavily, tugging off my heels. Finnick is kneeling in front of me in an instant, taking my hands in his. There's a concerned look in his eyes and I know despite the fact that we argued tonight, all of that is pushed aside because of his worry.
"Are you alright?" he asks. "Did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine," I murmur, the automatic response by now. I know that I'm not even convincing myself let alone Finnick, and I feel frustrated. What is there that we can do? Hyperion will continue to have me as he pleases, and there isn't a thing Finnick can do about. I know I can't resist, not when it could cost my mother her life. She has already lost one child, and I won't let her know the pain of losing another.
"Elethea." Finnick gently reaches out and lifts my chin. "I'm sorry, for earlier. I didn't mean to make you doubt me. You know that I love you, I'll always love you."
I cling to his words with all my heart, needing to believe he means them. But there's an earnestness in Finnick's eyes that makes me certain he means it. He does love me. It's a mantra I repeat over and over in my head to keep myself sane. Because I know that I need him if I'm meant to make it in this bleak world. I wrap my arms around him and he holds me close, as if we're lifelines keeping each other afloat.
I'm happy to be returning to District 4, but at the same time, I know that something's…different. Never have there been two Victors in the Hunger Games before, and now there are – and from District 12 no less. It troubles me, although I can't begin to explain why. The President won't be happy about it, that's for sure. I peer out of the window as the Capitol skyscrapers disappear from view, and heave a sigh of relief. The train seems lonely though, with only Finnick and I. No tributes, no Victors this year.
"I'm happy to be going home," I snuggle up on the couch beside Finnick, curling close. I'm not lying, I am happy…for now. But I know before the 75th Hunger Games, I will be called back to the Capitol to service the men there. I will be subject to Hyperion's violence. I will be hurt and degraded. The thought makes me shiver. I can't think of that. Right now, I'm here with Finnick, and I should appreciate the time we'll have.
"Annie will be happy to see you," Finnick comments, and I grin. Annie and I have become thick as thieves over the years despite her fragile state. I'm always so very protective of her, the same way Finnick is with me. She is like a sister to us. All of the Victors in District 4 are – they are our family. I feel slightly guilty for thinking of them like that when my mother is still alive, but Rayne can never understand the pain I go through, much as she endeavours to.
I know that my mother will be waiting at the station for my return, as she does every year. I can't help but squirm with guilt. Leon would be waiting with her, if it wasn't for me. He only volunteered because I did. I wonder now, if I wasn't a Victor, would my brother still be alive? I shake my head. It's no good thinking of such things, because you can't change the past.
It's hours later that we finally pull into the station, and I immediately push myself to my feet, peering out of the window. It's not just Mum there, but Annie too. I feel a sort of giddy excitement about seeing the girl who has become my best friend – well, aside from Finnick. I glance at the man in question. He's been fairly quiet for most of the trip, but I don't ask why. I've been just as silent, and we're both entitled to our own privacy.
"El!" Annie sprints at me the moment I set foot on the platform, and I hug her close. She might not understand what it's like to mentor, or become a Capitol courtesan, but she still has the nightmares and psychological scars of a Victor. "I've missed you both. I've been spending a lot of time with your mum, though."
Mum walks across the platform with a slight smile across her face. She adores Annie, almost as much as Finnick. I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her shoulder. Make the nightmares go away. Make it all better like when I was a child. She draws back and takes my face in her hands.
"Welcome home, Elethea."
Finnick's POV
One of the many things that I love about Mags is that she's such a good listener. She barely talks anymore, aside from in sign language. Even among Victors, we're not entirely sure if she can't talk now, or if she just chooses not to. I'm understanding of it either way. While Elethea chooses to spend her first night back in District 4 with her mother, I go and visit Mags, who is like a grandmother to the other six surviving Victors of District 4.
"I've been having nightmares," I admit to her, raking back my hair as she sips her tea and nods for me to continue. "But not the normal ones. For some reason, I've been dreaming about killing Elethea. Not just once, either. I don't know what to make of it. Is…do you think this is telling me something?"
Mags gestures with her hands. Tell her.
What will Elethea think of me if I tell her I dream of killing her? I sigh heavily and lean back, wondering how best to approach the subject. I know I'll have to tell her about it eventually, because she seems to think there are trust issues between us. It's not that I don't trust her, I just don't want to scare her.
"Surprise, surprise, Odair!"
A familiar voice makes me look up from where my face is buried in my hands, and I can't help but grin as three of District 4's Victors make their way into Mags's lounge. With the mischievous smiles on their faces, and the twinkle in Mags's eyes, they definitely planned this. I jump to my feet and approach them, happy to be among my own kind once more.
District 4 has had nine Victors so far, but one of them died of a heart attack and the other of a drug overdose. Mags is the oldest of the seven remaining – but I'm third youngest, with the three Victors in Mags's lounge being between me and her in age. Having known them for years, they're pretty much like my family.
I clasp Reuben Dyme's hand in mine. He's the second oldest Victor, having won the 31st Hunger Games and currently being in his early sixties. He's a tall man, even taller than me, standing at 6'4. He's practically been like a father to me since I won my Games – in fact, he was my mentor along with Mags. Reuben is a man worthy of admiration and respect, another victim of prostitution back when he had been younger.
Catrina Morley, Victor of the 42nd Hunger Games, throws her arms around me and hugs me tight. She's probably in her late forties, and an elegant woman with sharp features and a dazzling smile. If we're all a big Victor family, then she's definitely the big sister, supportive and kind.
Levi Bates is grinning like a maniac. He's less than ten years older than me, having won the 58th Hunger Games. Levi and I…we tend to clash at times. He's not a bad guy, but there's this sense of arrogance about him that he just hasn't lost over the years. He's also headstrong and tenacious, and always thinks he's right. Despite that, we're as close as brothers – which is probably the whole reason why we fight in the first place.
"What are you lot doing here?" I ask, still with a grin plastered across my face. I didn't expect to see the others on the first night back, but I'm glad they're here.
"To see you, of course," Catrina states, elegantly taking a seat across from Levi, who has sprawled on another of the couches. "Levi, for god's sake, feet down."
"Yes, Mum." Levi tips a wink and removes his feet from the couch. Even in his early thirties, he's extremely immature.
"We've also been invited to a celebration." Reuben, as always, is straight down to business. That's what I like about Reuben. He isn't the kind of guy who will mess you around. He will be very blunt about pretty much anything. I still remember my own Games, when I was playfully flirting with my District partner. Eventually, Reuben had enough, and I still remember his irritated rumble: Finnick, if you don't stop winking at Gloria like you've got something in your eye, I'll seal it shut.
"What kind of celebration?" I ask a little warily.
"Apparently next year's Games, the 75th, are a big event." Reuben sighs heavily. There's a ghost living in his eyes, but I guess the same could probably be said of all of us. Maybe it's just more obvious with Reuben. "Marina Wiltshire, you know her. She's going on and on about this being the 3rd Quarter Quell and she wants to have a party about it. She's ridiculous. Anyway, we've all been invited…along with some Capitolians."
"I'm not going," Levi says automatically, which is his response to most things. He is not a very social person by any means, associating with the rest of us Victors and that's about it. Reuben rolls his eyes at the anticipated reply. "What? You think I want to spend the night kissing ass with those Capitolian freaks?"
"I'll go," Catrina offers, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just one night. Who knows, Levi? The President might even be there."
"Exactly why I don't want to go," Levi says stubbornly. None of us know what happened to Levi's family, because he never told us. Did he refuse an offer to become a courtesan? No matter how open we are about things, Levi's family – or lack thereof – is a topic that's never open for conversation.
"You should," Reuben chides, "Your absence would be noted. You know the President doesn't take kindly to such things."
To be honest, I can't really be bothered to go either. But if the other Victors are going, at least I will have company. I think about Elethea. She won't want to come, but she will if I do, and perhaps even Annie will tag along. We can make what would have been a completely boring night into a fun event. That thought makes me smile.
Marina Wiltshire is not the richest woman in District 4 for no reason. She owns a mansion situated right on the beachfront, and even as we approach, multi-coloured lights are pulsating from inside and I can hear the music even from the street. I sigh and turn to glance at a sour-looking Levi, who was pushed by Catrina into attending. He's attempting to fix his tie and doesn't look anywhere near pleased about having to be here. His blue eyes hold nothing but contempt. I don't blame him.
"Are you ready?" I ask of him.
"Aren't I always?" It's Elethea who replies, stepping in front of Levi and I, her arm linked through Annie's. They both look stunning – Elethea is wearing a Victorian-style white dress, and Annie's is the azure colour of the sky. Levi brightens a little at seeing them. Maybe he just doesn't like my company.
"Then let's go."
We head inside, and it's just as flashy as I had expected. There are less Capitolians than I expected – you can pinpoint them by their ridiculous clothes and colourful hair. Levi immediately heads off in search of a beer, leaving me with the girls. Annie looks in awe of everything, while Elethea's already looking bored. I don't blame her – these parties aren't exactly what either of us would consider to be fun.
Over the other side of the room, a bunch of wealthy teenagers are hurling fake knives and shooting false arrows at moving simulations, laughing and cheering each time they hit one. Elethea's face darkens when she sees this, and I reach for her arm as she stalks towards them, but she brushes me off. It's obvious what this is: a mockery of the Hunger Games, of the fact that we had to kill in order to survive.
"Want to see something cool?" Elethea stands there with her hands on her hips, and the teenagers lapse into silence, recognising a Victor in their midst. I sigh and follow her over with Annie, determined to make sure that she's not going to get herself into any trouble. She seems to have a knack for it.
"Sure." An auburn-haired girl slowly steps forward and hands Elethea one of the fake knives. I remember Elethea's talent with boomerang knives. She hasn't practised it in five years, but I've no doubt her aim would be spot-on.
"Elethea, come on." I catch her arm. "You don't have to prove anything to these kids. They're just mucking around, okay? They don't get it."
She clenches her jaw and there's something dark dancing behind her green eyes, but ultimately she surrenders the fake knife back to the girl. I didn't know what she was going to do, but that was what scared me. The last thing I need is Elethea causing chaos only days after we've returned from the Capitol.
"Finnick Odair!" It's the high-pitched voice of a blue-haired woman who scuttles over to us. She's maybe in her late twenties and there's a devious grin about her lips as she leans close and whispers in my ear: "I've booked you for tonight."
"What?" I draw back. No, this can't be right. We aren't in the Capitol. District 4 is where I'm meant to be safe from selling myself out. I can't reject this woman, because word would reach Snow and he would punish me for disobedience. But this changes everything. This shouldn't be happening.
"Is something wrong?" Elethea steps forward and the Capitolian woman clutches me tighter, jealous eyes landing upon her. The woman must know that Elethea and I are close, that she is mine and I am hers. Her eyes narrow slightly as she takes in the woman's possessive grip on my arm.
"There's a room free upstairs," the woman says to me, completely ignoring Elethea. However the dark-haired girl hears her words and bites down on her lip, understanding what's going on. I can't do anything except toss her an apologetic glance over my shoulder as tonight's client leads me from the hall.