Ever since she was a little girl, sleep had never come easily to Annie. It was just the way her mind worked, she supposed. It was constantly racing: making lists and checking things off them simultaneously, jumping from one subject to another, reliving the past, anticipating the future.

At first, the only thing that could calm her young mind, and the only way she would ever drift off to sleep, was if her older brother Rafe were there to tuck her in. For years, they shared a room, and he would hold her hand as he told her bedtime stories of warriors from ages past, tall tales of adventure on the seven seas. She and Rafe weren't far apart in age—just three years—and it showed in his stories. They were simple in their construction, and gleefully violent in the way that only a little boy who had no real-life experience with death could conjure. But Annie loved his stories, because they were Rafe's, and because his familiar voice drowned out all the thoughts that were competing for attention in her head.

When Rafe turned nine, however, he decided he was too old to sleep in the same room as his little sister. Even though his new room was right next door, and even though he would still hold her hand and tell her stories until she fell asleep, it would never be the same again.

And then the nightmares came.

.

ooo

.

Annie woke up in a cold sweat, the acrid smell of smoke filling her lungs. "Mama?" she called out. "Papa?"

Out of the darkness, out of the shadows, her brother emerged. He looked older, somehow—not quite a man, but no longer a boy. "You must run, Annie," he whispered, his face pale. His voice was deeper, his tone more urgent, than she had ever heard before. "You must hide."

"Where will you go?" she cried. "Will you not come with me?"

"I will stay and fight by Father's side," her brother told her. "You must run away with Mother. The enemy has come, and they are burning the village to the ground."

"Quickly, quickly," their mother admonished, wrapping Annie in blankets, shoving her tiny feet into her boots. "There is not a moment to spare."

Annie would never forget the way the cold winter air felt on her face, like a thousand needles pricking her skin the moment she stepped out of the warmth of their home. The way the winter chill seeped into her bones when her feet sank into the snow.

The way her brother's decapitated head dropped out of the sky and landed at her feet. The bloodcurdling scream of her mother as she sagged to her knees. Rafe's green eyes, wide and unblinking, staring forever at the stars.

.

ooo

.

"It's your fault," their mother had reprimanded Rafe, when Annie's cries brought the entire family to her bedside that first night. "I told you to stop telling her those dreadful stories of yours."

"But she never had nightmares before," Rafe had protested.

It was only when little Madge Undersee started sleeping over on weekends that Annie found relief. As it turned out, her best friend's presence calmed Annie enough to send her into a deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep. And when Madge wasn't around, in time Annie learned to fall asleep to the sound of the radio or the TV. As long as there was white noise to occupy her hyperactive subconscious, the nightmares stayed away.

But every now and then the visions would return, though they were never exactly the same, and each time was more detailed than the last. The first day that Rafe brought his then-girlfriend home from college in Minnesota, Johanna Mason appeared in Annie's dreams that very night, her face covered in blood and her eyes wild with rage as she hunted down Rafe's killers and tore them from limb to limb with an axe.

.
ooo
.

Reykjavík

After the Skype call with Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Maysilee, Gale and Finn excused themselves to return to their hotel, leaving the girls alone to sort out their differences.

But Annie wasn't in the mood to talk. She said a tight-lipped goodbye to the boys, assuring Finn they were still on for the photo shoot even before he asked, and retreated to her room while Madge resigned herself to a night on the couch.

There Madge tossed and turned, angry at herself for trying to keep a secret from her best friend. Annie was always there for her; she had a tremendous maternal instinct, and Madge was the lucky recipient of all of it. Madge racked her brain for a single memory, some aspect of her life that didn't involve Annie in some way, and came up with nothing. Since that fateful first day of pre-ballet, they had been inseparable. Even after Annie moved to Australia and then Iceland for grad school, she checked in on Madge almost every day. Just last week, Annie dropped everything and flew all the way from Reykjavík to Seattle to be there for Madge after her parents died.

What about you? Madge thought as she drifted off to sleep. What have you done for Annie lately?

Madge had only been asleep for thirty, maybe forty-five minutes when she was jarred awake by the sound of Annie screaming.

The bedroom door was unlocked, and Madge ran in without a second thought. "Annie?" she cried, her heart pounding. "What's wrong?"

Annie was thrashing in bed, sobbing in her sleep and whimpering incoherently. Madge climbed in under the comforter and embraced her, pinning Annie's arms to her sides. "It's just a dream," she said soothingly, even though Annie wasn't awake to hear. "It's just a dream."

Madge had always known Annie suffered from nightmares since childhood, but she had never actually seen her have one. The nightmares always seemed to go away whenever they were together. Madge pressed her forehead against Annie's temple, listening carefully to the words interspersed between the sobs.

Finn.

Come back.

Come home.

Madge felt tears spring to her eyes. "Finn loves you, Annie," she whispered. Even though she had only known Finnick Odair for a few days, there was no doubt in her mind that it was true. "I love you."

Madge tightened her embrace as Annie's convulsions began to subside. "There, there," she murmured. Madge could never repay Annie for everything she had done, was still doing for her, but she was determined to try. Even if it was just for tonight, even if there was a chance Annie wouldn't remember it in the morning, this time Madge was going to be the one to take care of her.

.

ooo

.

She'd cried in her sleep again. Annie could tell from the way her eyes seemed sewn shut and nearly impossible to open. She felt around on her nightstand for her rosewater toner and spritzed some on her face. Carefully, she rubbed the crust off her eyelids, grimacing to herself the entire time. Gross.

Annie put on her glasses and took stock of her surroundings. Madge was curled up in bed next to her, still wearing most of what she had on at the restaurant the evening before: a close-fitting button-down shirt and a plaid miniskirt, although she had taken off her cardigan and leggings.

Before Annie could look away, Madge opened her eyes and lifted her head from the pillow. "Hey," she said, pulling herself up on her elbows. "I, uh, hope you don't mind. You were—you were having a bad dream last night."

Annie pressed the heel of her palm to her throbbing temple. "Sorry," she mumbled. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

"I'm kind of glad I did," Madge said. "I feel—I feel as if they're a part of you I've never understood before. I mean, I still don't, but..." She bit her lip and looked at her uncertainly, as if trying to decide whether to say something more.

Madge glanced at the clock on the wall. "We still have a couple of hours before the guys pick us up. Why don't I make us some breakfast while you shower?"

Annie allowed herself a small smile. "That would be great."

.

ooo

.

Madge made them scrambled eggs on toast, and tomatoes with salt, pepper, and fresh basil. "A hangover breakfast for two," she proclaimed wryly as she poured out two cups of peppermint tea.

"I've never really been hung over before," Annie admitted as she sat down at the kitchen table. She was wrapped in a bathrobe, and her long hair was twisted up in a towel.

Madge smirked. "Really? I thought all you globetrotting researchers went on epic drinking binges all the time, always."

Annie snorted. "Yeah, well, remember that wild night out on the town I told you about last year? In Tokyo?"

"I remember," Madge said. "You presented a paper at a conference in the morning, then holed yourself up in a bookstore until nine o'clock at night."

"Not just any bookstore," Annie corrected her. "The Shinjuku Kinokuniya. It had, like, ten floors of books or something."

"You don't even read Japanese."

Annie huffed. "There were plenty of English books, too. Besides, I can read hiragana and katakana well enough. It's the kanji that's hard to learn."

"Nerd."

"Excuse you, who's the one lugging around Old Norse books in her bag?"

Madge playfully flicked a basil leaf in Annie's direction.

"Hey!" Annie protested, picking it up from the table and putting it on her tomato. "Fresh herbs are expensive, you know."

"Everything's expensive in Iceland."

"Well, that's what happens when you're a volcanic island in the middle of the ocean and you have to import basically everything."

Madge lifted the cup to her lips to hide her smile. "Does this mean we're good?"

Annie bit into her toast and carefully tilted her head to the side as she chewed. "Nah."

Madge stuck her tongue out at her.

It was good to have her best friend back.

.

ooo

.

"So, do you know when you're leaving for your trip with Gale?" Annie asked quietly, later when they were getting ready.

The question caught Madge off guard. "We, um, haven't had a chance to talk about it. But... soon, probably." She was putting on moisturizer, and she felt her face grow warm under her fingertips. "Are you... okay with it, now?"

"I'm not exactly over the moon," Annie admitted, concentrating on her reflection in the mirror as she put her contacts in. "As you are well aware."

"Am I ever."

"But now, if you mysteriously disappear, at least Haymitch knows where Gale's dad lives. And if neither of them cuts Gale's balls off, Jo will hold him down while I do it myself."

Madge winced. "I'm sure there won't be any need for that."

Annie sat down on the bed and leaned back, putting her weight on her wrists. She eyed Madge warily. "Just... just don't get too attached, all right?"

"What do you mean?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "I've seen the way Gale looks at you. And the way you look back. If he lived anywhere near Seattle I would tell you to have at it, but he doesn't. What happens after this trip? You might never see him again."

"You mean, like you and Finn?" Madge sank down on the bed next to her best friend. "Annie, you were crying out his name last night."

The blood drained from Annie's face. "I was?"

There was a twinge of pain in her heart as Madge nodded. It had all been a dream, but the anguish it caused Annie was far too real. "Yeah. You were telling him... begging him to come home. To come home to you."

"Oh god." Annie buried her face in her hands. "I said that?"

"You did."

"I guess it's time to come clean." Annie gave her a wan smile. "You're not the only one who's been keeping a secret."

.

ooo

.

"You slept with Finnick Odair and didn't tell me?"

Madge jumped from the bed and started pacing up and down the length of the bedroom.

"It was just once," Annie told her. "I never saw him again after that. Until this week, I mean."

Madge pointed an accusing finger at her best friend. "Because you ran away!"

"I did what I had to do," Annie insisted. "It was going to end sooner or later."

"You don't know that for sure!"

"And that's exactly why I didn't tell you," Annie shot back. "You would have convinced me to keep seeing him."

"Because he's crazy about you!"

"That's not enough, Madge!" There was a tremor in Annie's voice, and her eyes filled with tears. "It'll never be enough. No matter how he feels about me, no matter how I feel about him, that doesn't change anything. We'd never see each other, I'd always be jealous of every single person he comes in contact with... we'd be miserable."

"You sound pretty miserable to me right now."

Annie chose to ignore that. "And these dreams, they just kill me every time. I thought I had a handle on them, but now they're back and I know it's because of him."

"What happens in your dreams, Annie?" Madge knelt down in front of Annie and laid her head in her lap. "Tell me."

Annie took a deep breath, and thought for a moment before starting to speak in a measured tone. "Even... even before I met Finn, I had dreams about him. I guess I saw him on TV and in magazines at some point, and he made an impression on me even back then. At first it was like those dreams I had about my brother... I've told you about those."

Madge nodded. "I remember."

"Everything was the same, except I was seeing Finn's face instead of Rafe's," Annie continued. "They were horrible dreams, obviously, but I didn't think much of Finn being there. He and Rafe have the same color hair and eyes, so I assumed my brain was just mixing them up somehow.

"Then, after I met Finn... I started having other dreams. I dreamed... that we were together, and had children." Annie's face reddened. "But in my dreams, he would always leave. He would be away for weeks, even months at a time, with no means of communication. And it killed me. It killed me to wait, not knowing when he'd be back. Not knowing if he'd come back at all."

"Is this why you travel so much?" Madge wondered. "I always thought... it always felt to me like, after Australia, you were suddenly scared of staying in one place for too long."

"I never thought of it that way. I've always wanted to see the world, and I know how lucky I am to have the opportunity to travel. If I'd been born in a different place or time, under different circumstances... I might not be able to. But the way you put it makes sense, too. This way, I'm never the one who's left behind." Annie sighed. "Anyway. In my dreams, I also kept imagining... all these ways Finn could die. Drowning while trying to save someone. Getting stabbed with that stupid trident of his, you know, the one in that famous picture of him." Annie choked back a teary laugh. "One time I dreamed he was mauled by giant lizards."

Madge looked horrified. "Why would you even think that?"

"I was in Australia, okay?" Annie defended herself. "The wildlife there can kill you."

The doorbell rang.

"That's them," Annie said, hurriedly wiping her eyes and reaching for a tissue to blow her nose. She glared at Madge. "Not a word of this to anyone, especially Finn or Gale."

"I promise," Madge vowed.

Annie's cheeks puffed out as she exhaled. She patted her hair self-consciously. "How do I look?"

Madge smiled. "Like a model."

.

ooo

.

The drive to Jökulsárlón would take them over four hours, Finn said as they piled into the SUV that his company had rented for the occasion.

"When you said we'd do the Blue Lagoon, too, I thought you meant we were going to the beach in Grindavík," Annie remarked. "That's right by the lagoon, and much closer to Reykjavík."

"The view in Jökulsárlón is better, especially for stills," Finn replied. "But this is going to be a relatively quick shoot. My crew's already there; they've been filming the action shots with the local surfers since yesterday. You never know when a good wave is going to come in, so we're getting as much footage as we can. It's mostly the posed stuff that we need models for. Anyway, we can always go to the lagoon tomorrow if there's not enough time, unless..."

Finn trailed off, and Gale made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror. "Well, unless we aren't all free."

Before anyone could bring up the fiasco from last night, Finn plugged his phone into the sound system and pressed play. "Hey, I've got heaps of stuff from the local musos, they're amazing and you should check them out," he said, rapid-fire, all in one breath.

The first track came on, and Finn's musical tastes did not disappoint. "This is the song from the plane," Gale said in recognition. It was a simple melody, just an acoustic guitar and a male voice singing in Icelandic, wistful and plaintive and full of emotion.

"Yeah, they play it on every flight to Iceland," Finn said, pleased that Gale had noticed. "Isn't it awesome?"

Gale nodded in assent and they listened in silence for a while, up until the second verse when Finn and Annie suddenly started singing along at the same time.

Annie's eyes widened when she realized what she was doing, and abruptly stopped.

"Keep going, Annie," Madge encouraged her.

"Yeah, your voice is much better than Finn's," Gale chimed in. He doubted anyone could get angrier at him than Madge's uncle had been last night, so he figured he might as well have fun at Finn's expense. After all, it was Finn's fault Annie found out about their trip before Madge managed to tell her.

Annie smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm flattered, but I don't know all the lyrics by heart. Just a couple of lines here and there."

"It's really impressive that you know any of the lyrics at all," Gale pointed out. "Can you speak Icelandic?"

"Enough to get by. Enough to be polite, order food, that kind of thing. But there's an English version of this song, too, so I know what it means. I explained it to Madge, the first time she heard it."

"What's it about?"

Annie's face softened. "It's about... going home," she said quietly. "He's... tired. And burdened by all these problems that he won't talk about. He's traveling from far away, and he knows it'll take a long time before he's back where he belongs."

"But he's thinking of someone," Finn added, a pensive expression on his face. "His light in the dark. And whenever he's with that someone, whenever he thinks about that someone... he knows."

"Knows what?" Gale echoed, looking from Finn to Annie, then back to Finn again. Even if Finn had never told him about his feelings for Annie, Gale would have picked up on it from the very start, from the moment they saw each other again at the airport. It was exhausting to watch them dancing around each other like this, weaving in and out of each other's orbit, when the very air between them was alive and crackling with energy so intense Gale could practically see it.

Finn looked out the window, twisting the silver bracelet around his wrist. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, the voice that came out was raw, vulnerable. "He knows that he's already home."

.

ooo

.

"It's beautiful," Madge breathed when they finally arrived at their destination.

Gale inhaled through his nose, filling his lungs with cold air as he surveyed the scene. Jökulsárlón was vast, expanding in all directions as far as the eye could see. Even though it seemed nearly empty—a while back they'd made a turn and all of a sudden the crowds of tourists just disappeared—it was sensory overload. It was surreal. The brilliant whites and blues of the icebergs and distant glaciers. The sound of the waves crashing into the black sands and rocks of the shore. The feeling that they were at the very ends of the earth.

In fact, Gale was half-expecting someone to come up and tell them that they weren't actually on Earth anymore. Even though he was a true-blue Northerner, and saw more snow in one winter than other people would ever see in a lifetime, he had never seen icebergs or a glacier up close before. He and Katniss were always making vague plans to go and see the glaciers in Alaska, but—like many other things in their now nonexistent relationship—it had never materialized.

But Gale was here now. Looking at the glaciers, in Iceland, on a trip he didn't even pay for. On the threshold of a new chapter in his life, the next level of his career. With his new friends, three of the most intriguing people he had ever met. With Madge.

Madge tugged on the sleeve of his jacket and looked at him with bright eyes. "Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Yeah," Gale agreed. "You are."

He didn't mean to say it—not like that, anyway—but fortunately for him, Madge didn't seem to hear. By then she had turned to Annie and started chattering away, comparing the view to the glaciers in Washington state, Oregon, and northern California.

"Guys, this is Cinna," Finnick said, introducing them to a striking man who looked like a rock star in his short dreads and aviator sunglasses. "My creative director, and the most stylish person I know. He's also our photographer for today, so everyone do exactly as he says."

"I've met you before," Gale realized as he shook Cinna's hand. "You were one of the judges at the charity runway show in Minneapolis. Spring of 2007."

Cinna laughed. "Yes, that's correct. I remember you, too. Gale, wasn't it? You did a great job back then, and I'm sure you'll do well today." For someone who had such a commanding presence, he was incredibly soft-spoken.

The concept of the shoot was simple enough. "You'll each be photographed dressed as Vikings first, then with the Aegir wetsuits and longboards second," Cinna explained. "Then we'll Photoshop the two versions of you together, kind of like a before-and-after shot."

"Pepperidge Farm remembers," Gale quipped. Madge giggled.

Next, Finn introduced them to a petite woman who, in her eye-wateringly bright blue and orange ensemble, looked more like a tropical bird than a human being. "So lovely to meet you all," Effie, his publicist, said smoothly even as she teetered precariously on see-through platform heels. "It's a big, big day!"

"Are those—are those fish in your shoes?" Gale blurted out, staring in bafflement at her feet.

Effie tittered as she daintily popped one foot up behind her. Gale could see that the platforms were filled with blue-tinted water, sparkles, and rather realistic-looking fake clownfish. "They're not real, darling. They're simply for effect. But so marvelous of you to notice."

Finn also introduced them to a trio of well-built, wetsuit-clad men: local surfers, already damp from the morning's surfing. Looking at them, however, Gale wondered why Finn even needed professional models in the first place.

"Gunnar, Einar, and Axel. Three of Iceland's finest." Finn's eyes crinkled at the corners as his grin widened. "Of course, that's not saying much," he added in jest. "There's only, what, twenty surfers in the entire country?"

"Correction, I believe there's as much as twenty-five of us now," Gunnar interjected, running a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. He winked at Madge, and Gale felt his jaw clench. "It's a population explosion."

"Are you counting Harald? Harald's not an Icelander," Axel argued.

"His parents are Icelanders," Einar said.

"Yeah, but he grew up in Amsterdam. He lives in Amsterdam. He only comes here in the summer."

"Still counts."

While the surfers continued their debate, Finn steered Gale and the girls toward the costume, hair, and makeup tent. "Controversial topic, that one," he informed them. "Best not to get mixed up in it."

Gale groaned when he saw Finn's trademark trident leaning against a clothes rack. "Really, Finn? Did the Vikings even use tridents?"

"Any seafaring and fishing culture would have a big fork of some sort," Finn noted, picking it up and striking the pose that had earned him the nickname "god of the sea" in his breakout magazine cover years ago. "Besides, remember what Wiress said last night? My last name is literally Viking for spear."

.

ooo

.

Gale's costume was a long-sleeved, woolen tunic, with matching pants and leather armor that someone had previously and rather enthusiastically covered in dirt and fake blood. "Where'd you get this stuff?"

"I have my connections," Finn said modestly. "They're used costumes from TV shows, historical reenactments, LARPers."

"You should've gotten a Viking ship, too."

Finn scowled. "My budget and my charm can only go so far."

Hair and makeup took less than five minutes, with the prep team unanimously agreeing that Gale was "camera ready" after a quick once-over with a foundation sponge that, as far as he could tell, barely made a difference.

"Finn, your friends are all as beautiful as you are," Octavia gushed. "I would kill for this one's eyelashes."

"Such a shame your lips are so dry, though," Venia observed as she dabbed another coat of lip balm on him. "They're practically peeling in this weather, my goodness."

"I'm sure his girlfriend here doesn't mind," Flavius teased him, from where he was combing out Madge's hair. "I bet he's a great kisser. Isn't he, sweetie?"

Madge blushed furiously.

Where were they getting that idea, anyway?

Gale and Finn were out of the tent before the girls, and Cinna—now sans sunglasses—went over the shot list with them, pointing out the places where he wanted them to stand and telling them what he wanted them to do. "We'll do solo shots first, just looking out toward the water. We'll try a few different variations, get you up on the rocks or by that big block of ice over there on the shore. Then we'll try group shots, see if any gems come out."

Finn went first, and Gale watched in admiration as his friend transformed before his eyes. Gone was the joker, the chatterbox, the lovesick puppy Gale had come to know. No one could deny that Finnick Odair was a professional; an athlete and a model. Looking at Finn now, dressed in muddied, bloodied wool and leather, standing with his trident in his hands, he looked every inch the warrior. Even with his artfully tousled hair, and just enough facial scruff to make him look rugged but not long or thick enough to be a full-on Viking beard, the effect was just the right balance of modern and medieval that Cinna was going for.

Cinna had Finn pose against a few different backgrounds, with his trident and without, and a few times with a Viking-style circular shield with the Aegir logo painted on it.

"That's the money," Cinna said, later as he was showing them Finn's roll on the tablet that was wirelessly linked to his camera. "That's what we want. Now you, Gale."

The shield was much heavier than Gale had anticipated, and he immediately regretted his decision to pose with it first. After a few frames his arm began to tire, and it showed.

"Relax your jaw, Gale," Cinna instructed him. "You can narrow your eyes, but don't squint."

Gale had to grimace when he saw his pictures. There were no two ways about it: he looked terrible. His posture was messed up, not to say anything of the constipated expression on his face. How the hell did Finn make all of this look so effortless?

Finn chuckled. "You look like your shit is coming out sideways there, mate."

"This was all your idea, Finn," Gale groused. "I told you I don't know how to do this sort of thing."

"You're just overthinking it, that's all," Finn shrugged. "This isn't one of those things you can engineer."

"I think we should try having someone in the frame with you," Cinna suggested. "Someone to put you at ease."

"I can do it," Finn volunteered. "Gale and I can be Viking bros."

Gale scowled. The two of them in a picture together? "You'll make me look even worse, if anything."

Just then, Effie's squeal of delight pierced the air. "Fabulous, absolutely fabulous!"

They all turned in the direction of her voice, and Finn grasped the front of Gale's shirt. "Well, if you don't want me in your photos, I think I know just the one."

"Look at you ladies," Cinna complimented Madge and Annie. "I barely recognize you."

"They came in here looking very Ralph Lauren," Effie trilled. "But now they're positively Galliano, don't you think?"

Gale vaguely knew what, or who, Ralph Lauren was, but he had no idea what Galliano meant. Guessing by the way Madge and Annie looked, it probably meant something along the lines of fucking smoking hot.

Madge and Annie were dressed in slim-fitting wool tunics and pants, with knee-high boots and corsets made from chainmail and leather that—against all reason—managed to look both sexy and sensible.

And that was just their clothes. Their hair was intricately styled to look traditional and cutting-edge at the same time. Annie's, for example, was parted and tightly braided on the left side to make it look like it had been shaved off. The right side cascaded down almost to her waist in luxurious waves, loose except for smaller braids interwoven with metal chains that glinted in the sunlight. As for Madge, she had several side braids, also accented with chains, and a messy fullness on top that looked almost like a faux hawk. To finish the look, their eyes were rimmed with thick black kohl, smudged and uneven and all the more beguiling because of it.

Madge cautiously touched the top of her head, and Gale noticed that her Mjolnir necklace added the perfect final touch. "I think Flavius went a little crazy with the backcombing. I don't think the Vikings had industrial-strength hair spray at their disposal."

"You look great," Gale told her, when he finally regained the ability to speak. "Really."

"I feel great," Annie pronounced, twirling a spear in her hand. "Give me all the battle scenes!"

Annie charged in Madge's direction, but the blonde gracefully spun around to dodge her attack. "Ballet, bitches," she joked, and the word seemed so foreign coming from Madge that Gale had to smile.

Not to be outdone, Annie lunged into a martial arts pose. "I know kung fu... and a few other Chinese words."

Cinna was taking candids of the entire thing, and before anyone knew what was happening he had herded the girls toward the shore. "Let's shoot Madge and Annie together first, since they're all warmed up and ready to raid," he said with a smile. "Gale, I'll get back to you later."

Madge and Annie went through the poses almost as easily as Finn had done earlier, obediently angling their heads and bodies the way Cinna wanted them to. "Wonderful," Cinna said, visibly satisfied. "You two take direction very well."

"We've always been very good girls," Annie said innocently. Madge burst out laughing, and Effie captured the moment on her phone.

Next, Cinna had Madge and Annie pose by themselves, and while it wasn't as inspired as when they were together, it still blew Gale's first attempt out of the water.

"We look awesome," Annie exclaimed when she saw the photos on Cinna's tablet. "We're freaking badass shieldmaidens." She gave Madge a high five.

"Do couples this time, Cinna," Octavia pleaded. "Everyone loves a little romance."

And of course they had to pair up Finn with Annie, and Gale with Madge. "It's the hair color," Effie said by way of explanation. "Gale and Annie both have dark hair; it's more interesting to mix them up. And there's less of a height difference this way, too."

"All right, Finn," Einar cheered.

Cinna decided Gale and Madge were up first, since Gale wasn't done with his solos yet. The first few frames were easy enough: just standing beside each other while wielding their weapons.

"Now face each other," Cinna instructed. "Gale, put your hand on her hip—just like that. Now look in each other's eyes."

Even through multiple layers of material, Gale was acutely aware of the curve of Madge's body under his hand. He desperately thought of something, anything to say, hoping that conversation would distract him from the idle fantasies that were sure to follow otherwise. "I have no idea how this is supposed to sell wetsuits and surfboards," he finally said under his breath.

"I know, right?" Madge whispered back.

Cinna edged closer, taking more photos from different angles. "Pretend I'm not here," he said as he clicked away. "Just focus on each other."

Madge was close enough for Gale to breathe in her green tea and citrus scent. What would she smell like without perfume?

Gale remembered with a start that it was Madge's ex-boyfriend who had given her that perfume. What was he like? Gale tried to imagine Madge's type, and pictured someone suave and debonair. Someone who knew a thing or two about perfume, wine, and luxury. Someone who would take her to art galleries and Michelin-starred restaurants. None of this budget-airline-hopping around Europe like Gale was proposing; surely he would have his own private jet, ready to take her to dinner in Venice or shopping in Paris at a moment's notice.

"You're tensing up, Gale," Cinna warned him. "I can see it in your jaw."

"It's in your forehead, too." Madge reached up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

And just like that—with just one touch—Gale felt all his worries and doubts melt away.

"That's great, Madge," Cinna commended her. "Keep doing that."

Madge's cheeks turned pink, but she did as Cinna said, tracing the outline of Gale's jaw with her fingertips. Gale unconsciously angled his face slightly so that he was almost nuzzling her hand. His eyes closed despite himself, and for a few moments all he could see were colors and light, green and purple and blue and blinding white, dancing behind his eyelids.

He took one step closer to her, or maybe it was Madge who moved closer to him, until he felt the cool, smooth skin of her forehead on his lips. He dropped the sword he was holding in his other hand, freeing it so that he could circle both arms around her waist.

He opened his eyes and found himself gazing deep into hers, and in that moment there was nothing but him and Madge, in this or any other universe. You are everything that exists. You are everything that matters.

"Just kiss already," Octavia wailed, breaking the reverie.

Madge jumped back in surprise. A collective groan rose from the crowd, Finn's the loudest of all.

Cinna chuckled. "Don't worry, I got the shot I needed. Good job, Madge. Much, much better, Gale."

The others crowded around Cinna to look at the photos, but Gale touched Madge's elbow to hold her back. "I'm sorry if I—if I made you feel uncomfortable."

Madge shook her head. "It's all right, Gale. Don't worry about it. You were just doing your job."

She excused herself to return to the tent, not even bothering to take a look at their photos. Gale stood rooted to the spot, staring at her retreating back and thinking, Were you?


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A/N:

Just to be clear, Annie's brother Rafe is alive and kicking. We'll go more into his backstory with Johanna once Gale and Madge visit her in Denmark.

Muso is Aussie slang for "musician". The song is "Heimförin" by Ásgeir Trausti, and it's absolutely gorgeous. It's part of the ATY!Odesta playlist I posted on Tumblr and YouTube.

GADGE WEEK is December 8-14! Check out finnickodone's Tumblr for details, and of course the team from GadgeFicRecs will be there supporting the fandom in whatever way we can!