Chapter Nine: Justify


A/N: As usual, a huge thanks to all of my wonderful reviewers! This chapter might seem a little irrelevant, but the interaction between Elsa and Elethea is important for future events in the story. So I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!


"Give me a reason

Why would you want me

To live and die

Living a lie

You were the answer

All that I needed

To justify, justify my life."

- Justify, The Rasmus


Elethea's POV

It seems ironic that so soon after talking to Cashmere about Elsa, my path should cross with hers again. I hadn't been aware that she was in the Capitol for the New Year, but when I step into the elevator and notice her, she sneers. Perhaps she thinks that I'm going to attack her again, but I have no such intention. I simply step inside and watch the doors close. I don't know where she's going, but I'm headed for my own level to make sure that Finnick is doing okay.

"Not going to try and claw my eyes out, Ambrose?" Elsa jeers, and I look at realise with my heart sinking that she is just as broken as the rest of us. Even those who feign vanity cannot escape the Games, the effect that it will have on them. Even the most ruthless of tributes bear scars on their hearts, and Elsa is no exception.

"Actually, no." My tone is light. "I was thinking we could talk, Victor to Victor. I heard something about you, something I can't help but wonder about."

"Oh yeah?" Elsa's eyes narrow, the grit of her teeth spurring me to continue, daring me to voice whatever rumour I've heard – and there are plenty. But in reality, she's just a young woman whose soul has been rent in two by the Games, and their aftermath. You never win, Elsa. If only I could have told you that.

"I heard that you rejected an offer from President Snow just after your Victory."

I know that Cashmere was speaking the truth as soon as I see Elsa's tiny, bird-like frame tense. She presses the emergency stop button on the elevator, and I raise my chin. Things are probably about to get ugly, and I'm prepared for that. Elsa steps up to me, her eyes boring into me and a snarl across her face. But there's a vulnerability there that I didn't see before, a misery hidden behind layers of walls built up over time. But I can see it nonetheless.

"If you're talking about when he tried to make me a prostitute, a whore like you," she spits the words out venomously, but the poison she tries to inject under my skin doesn't work, because her hatred isn't directed towards me. "Then yes, you're right. I chose to keep my pride, and I lost my family because of it. There. Are you happy now, Elethea? Is that gossip enough to entertain the masses?"

"No," I murmur, and I place my hands on her shoulders. "Neither are you. We will never be happy again. Haven't you seen that by now?"

Elsa falls to her knees and a cry of anguish escapes her, and she's suddenly so human that it breaks my heart. I don't know if she is grieving for her lost family, or her lost humanity, or perhaps both. But she presses her face into her hands and sobs, and it takes me a moment before I kneel down in front of her. She can call me all the names she wants, but we both know she's hurting just as much as I am. I blamed her for taking Leon away from her, foolishly not realising that Elsa has burdens of her own ghosts. How selfish I've been, too focused on my own pain.

"I know you must miss them," I say, struggling to find words amidst my pity. "But sometimes, as a courtesan you get clients…clients like Hyperion Dormer, whose only intention is to hurt you. Who enjoy the power they wield and the pain they're able to inflict. It's not a pretty fate."

"Dormer," Elsa snarls, her small face contorting with hatred as it emerges from her hands, and I've no doubt that she's had dealings with Hyperion. Perhaps not the same kind as I have, but Hyperion is never kind to any of the Victors.

"There's nothing we can do about him," I insist.

"But there is." Elsa pushes herself to her feet, wiping the tears furiously from her eyes and pressing the button for the elevator to move again. She turns her attention on me and there's no anger or hatred in her face, just some kind of wicked glee that makes me nervous. "Meet me on my floor at eight o'clock. I'll show you."


I'm concerned about what Elsa has planned, but at the same time, I'm excited that there might be a chance to get some sort of revenge upon the man who has hurt me since I was only fifteen years old. I'm there at quarter to eight, pacing the corridor outside the elevator and waiting for my new, unlikely ally. Elsa doesn't take long to arrive, with a bag slung over her shoulder and a grin spread across her features. Worry takes a hold of me again.

"Where are we going?"

"To Hyperion's apartment." Elsa rolls her eyes like it should be obvious. She's a good deal happier than she was earlier, no sneer in sight. Despite the fact that I'm nervous, I know that she feels very confident about what we're about to do…whatever it might be. I have to have faith in Elsa.

I've been to Hyperion's apartment more times than I can count, and I restrain myself from asking Elsa how she knows where it is. It's really none of my business. We're here for revenge. Elsa manages a few nifty tricks to get us through security that makes me think she must have been spending some time with District 3. Awed by her skills, I tiptoe tentatively after her. I breathe a sigh of relief to discover that the apartment is empty. Elsa flicks on the lights and we gaze around.

"So what are we doing?" I ask.

Elsa has moved over to a pretty ornamental vase and picked it up, seeming to admire it. She turns back to face me and there's a wicked gleam in her eyes. I know why we're here now. We're here to cause trouble. It's all that Elsa knows, and when that urge is mixed with bitter revenge, it becomes dangerous.

"Even the Capitol has burglaries, Elethea."

She throws the vase down so that it smashes on the tiles. I should feel scared, I should back out of this now. But I don't. Instead I feel some kind of recklessness that Elsa has encouraged in me. She has fuelled the fire, and now it's burning out of control. I laugh as I watch her knock several books of a shelf, ripping pages out and hurling them to the ground. I turn to the holographic picture frames hanging on the wall – and I freeze, the smile dying from my lips.

The most prominent picture is one of Hyperion and a dark-haired woman on what seems to be their wedding day. Hyperion has a wife? No, I certainly would have heard of her. But that's not what makes me stop dead. It takes only a quick inspection of the dark-haired woman to see my startling resemblance to her. Not enough for us to be mistaken for twins, but certainly enough so that at first glance, I could be mistaken for her. A chill runs down my spine as the pieces of the puzzle connect.

"That's Isabeau." Elsa has moved over to stand beside me. "She's been dead for…oh, over five years now. Looks quite a bit like you."

Maybe that's why he hurts me, why he hates me. Because I am the ghost of his dead wife come back to haunt him. My breath seems to catch in my throat, and I swallow the lump there. Why am I so afraid? Why does this picture of a dead woman frighten me so much? Elsa has gone back to breaking things, but my fingers trace the features so similar to my own.

Perhaps even the cruellest of monsters have their burdens to bear, too.


Finnick's POV

"You're back late."

I look up from the couch as Elethea and Elsa enter the apartment. Since when was Elethea friends with the girl from District 2? Last time I saw them together, Elethea was practically trying to kill her. Their smiles fade at seeing me, and I can tell that Elethea thought I was going to be in bed. I get to my feet, pointing to the bag that Elsa has slung over her shoulder.

"What's in there?"

"Nothing," Elsa stammers, but she's not a good liar. Wherever they've been, it looks like she's got something she shouldn't. Elethea turns and glances at her in astonishment, and it occurs to me that Elethea didn't even realise that Elsa must have something in there. I walk over, and Elsa sullenly glares but doesn't resist as I wrench the bag from her hands. It's heavy and I turn it upside down, upending it so that the contents scatter across the floor.

Money, photos, other expensive-looking items…the photo is crumpled, but I still recognise the hated face of Hyperion Dormer. They've been to his apartment. They must have robbed him. I glance at Elethea, but her eyes are downcast. She feels guilty about what she's done, which she should. It was stupid. Elsa, on the other hand, meets my gaze with defiant dark eyes.

"Don't you realise what you've done?"

"I thought it was obvious," she sneers, "Stolen from a Capitolian. I suppose you're not as smart as you like to think."

I rake a hand through my hair. I doubt that Elsa would get into too much trouble for the crime, at least not publicly. But the Capitol always has methods of getting revenge, and what concerns me is Elethea's involvement. I spread out the items on the floor with my foot, and I can see that Elsa's defiance is beginning to waver. She knows that she's going to get into trouble too.

"It's not like it's the first time," she admits, hands balling into fists, "I've stolen from a few people now. I can't help it, Odair. Some of us have problems. It's kleptomania. Do you know what that means? It means that I have this impulsive desire to steal, and I just can't help myself."

"From Capitolians?" I demand. My eyes drift down to the picture, to the smiling woman beside Hyperion. She looks frighteningly like Elethea. It sends chills down my spine, but I ignore them. I turn my attention back upon Elsa, whose jaw is clenched, eyes bright like she might cry. "Are you completely stupid?"

"How much have they taken from us?" Elsa's voice has risen into a scream, and there's an insanity on her face that I know the Capitol put there. After all, they were the ones who broke her. "They took my family! They have taken away everything I ever had, and you expect that I don't want to take back? Is it any wonder that I steal considering how much has been stolen?"

I rake a hand through my hair, and Elethea glances between us both, torn. She doesn't know whether to choose her new friend, whose dark vengeance rivals her own, or me. That hurts me more than anything. I gesture to the mess on the floor, before tossing Elsa back her bag. If she is determined to be so reckless, that's her own business. But I won't have her getting Elethea involved too.

"Take your stuff, then. Take it and get out."

Elsa clenches her jaw, furiously shoving her things into her bag. "Fine. You know what? I'll take it back then, if it bothers you so much."

I'm a little astounded by what she's said, but taking those things back is just as risky as stealing them in the first place. Elsa turns away from me, hiking the bag back over her shoulder and glancing at Elethea. There's something like sorrow in her eyes, as Elethea regards her dispassionately.

"I just wanted to say, with Leon…" She licks her lips, and Elethea's green eyes widen at the mention of her brother. "I never meant for him to die like that. You must understand that. All I wanted was to go home, and it was a dirty trick…but I wanted to live. Now I'm not sure that I do."

"You're sorry?" Elethea whispers, as if she can't believe what Elsa is saying. The smaller girl looks deeply apologetic, and I know that I regret every kill I made in my Games. Whether friend or foe, none of them deserved the fate they met by my trident. I'm sure Elsa feels similarly.

"I still see him in my sleep." Elsa rakes her hair out of her miserable eyes. "He haunts me. He condemns me. There can be no greater punishment than reliving his death again and again."

Then Elsa, seemingly overcome by emotion, turns on her heel and strides out of the apartment. I turn to my dark-haired lover, and I'm somewhat satisfied that she's looking ashamed. She knows what she and Elsa did wasn't right, but that's not the point. Vengeance isn't the answer, but I'm more concerned about if the Capitol decides on retaliation.

"Were you even thinking?"

"Finnick," Elethea sounds tired, wrapping her arms around my neck and offering me a weary smile. "It was Elsa's idea. I didn't know what was going to happen. I'm sorry."

I know that I forgive her, even before I feel the need to apologise. Elethea presses her lips to mine and I kiss back. Being with her makes me forget all the evils in the world around me, like we could be the only two people who exist. She's persistent tonight, pressing her body close against mine, and I feel like she wants to forget what happened with Hyperion. I feel the same, pushing her against the wall and lifting her up so that her legs wrap around my waist.

"I want you," she whispers, and I know that I can't deny her. I want her too, hands roaming the curves of her body as she hurriedly pulls my shirt off me. She tilts her head back and moans, and I kiss down the column of her neck, the heat between us building. This is the only fire we need: the one that burns between us.