Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, only my story and a few OCs. Enjoy the Chapter :D
Day 3-5: Training Days
Annie woke up that morning with a big smile on her face. The chariots had been a success, and as far as Annie knew, so was everything else. But still, Finnick wouldn't relax and he wouldn't leave Cole and her alone outside of their apartment. Maybe, it was Cole that wouldn't leave them alone.
That night, on the chariot, she felt a bit of hope. Hope that ,maybe, they would come out alive from this. That maybe, her little dream was still alive. But then she saw the eyes of the President.
As she got dressed, she heard a knock on the door. Her training outfit had been set up on the writing desk, way before she even opened her eyes. So, she put it on, along with some running shoes, and went to open the door.
There stood Finnick, looking tired and groggy, with bags under his eyes. He seemed so tired as of late, looking as if he never got a wink of sleep, even though Annie was absolutely sure he did. He did have nightmares, though, and that was something that had the possibility of keeping him up at night.
"We have to get to the training center," he told her, and gave her a small smile. He took her hand, and dragged her out the door to Cole's room to wake him up by force. She already knew, by Finn's actions, that it would be a long day.
President Snow sat in his office, watching the live broadcasts of the streets in the Capitol. He heard them, talking about the previous night's events. He wasn't amused at the prospect that the citizens were fascinated with the petty District 4 girl. The stylists had a way with the make-up, yes, but under all the recreation, she was just an ordinary, unspecial, district citizen.
"We were thinking, Mr. President...that maybe, we could let the Games play themselves out this year...we...haven't done that in a long time," Phobeus, the Head Gamemaker, mentioned to the President. The man, who looked ridiculous with half of his hair dyed red and the other dyed black, didn't amuse the President. To the President, he was a fool. To the citizens, he was a style icon.
The request did not amuse President Snow.
"And what of the Districts who need to learn their lessons?" Asked Snow, thinking of the young couple he was trying to obliterate.
Phobeus looked interested, but had an answer to the question.
"We can send in a mutt of your choosing if it comes down to that, Mr. President. If not, you very well know where this year's games will be set. There will barely be no...animals around, so to say. Its either the Cornucopia, or die," he answered, and the President scoffed.
"And what about making it exciting, Phobeus?" I made you head gamemaker for a reason; you're supposed to be brutal and unrelenting! Do you really want to reveal to the world your son's parentage?" Snow stood, as he threatened the man. Did the man really expect the President to have him as gamemaker, without exploring his background information? It was enough that violating an Avox was supposed to be dishonorable and illegal, but imagine impregnating one?
Phobeus's eyes widened in shock. How could the President know about that? And how could such a respected man stoop so low, as to threaten an innocent child. The boy was five years old, and his wife had no problem with adopting the child as her own. He was completely innocent in his father's actions.
"Do you think that I don't keep tabs on the people I hire, Phobeus? Do you think that i"m an idiot? That I would risk my position as the rightful leader of this country for the likes of you?" President Snow snarled at the man, but then realized that...well, he had to calm down. He wasn't going to let the petty man affect him. In the end, he would fall to his instructions or risk his family's lives.
So, he calmed down, flattened down his jacket, cleared his throat, and sat down in his chair once more.
Phobeus swallowed.
"What would you like us to do to get the games to be more...exciting, as you very well put it?" he asked in a very fearful voice, taking out his holopad to type in what the President wished to see.
"Earthquakes. I want a lot of earthquakes, major earthquakes. Destroy some of the areas, watch them fall to their deaths."
How would a girl of the sea survive the wrath of the Earth?
"Annie, are you alright?" asked Cole as he sat down next to her, watching her attempt to camouflage her forearm. She was trying to blend her arm in with the cement, and she was doing a pretty good job of it. It wasn't the best, but it was pretty good.
Her expression was pretty stressed out. Her dark eyebrows were scrunched together in frustration, as she blended in the ash into her arm. Her eyes were deep in concentration, but they were elsewhere. Every now and then, they flashed over to the hunting area, where the netting and ropes were. Those were her talents, and the Careers had taken them over.
"When are the Careers gonna leave the netting area alone, dam int? There's too many people there for me to make one. They're not even that good at it, either," Annie grumbled angrily, pursing her lips. She took a pinch of sand and poured it over her forearm once more.
Colin rolled his eyes.
"Just go over there, Annie. Teach them how it goes; they're not the absolute best at everything," Cole reminded her. Now Annie rolled her eyes. That was easy for him to say. They liked Cole, because he actually had a talent for survival. he knew how to fight with a trident, and a spear. He was also great at cooking food, and had knowledge of herbs and poisonous plants. He was a very valuable ally, and the Careers wanted him. So, he had stuck with them for a lot of the day.
As he encouraged Annie, the District 1 girl, Amber, raised a pale hand and waved it towards Cole, smiling widely. Cole waved back, and gave her the same smile.
Annie gave him an estranged look, and shook her head. Cole shrugged.
"Just following Finn's orders," he explained in the best way. "They already offered me an alliance, but I told them that it was either the both of us or neither of us. They want to see what you can do, Annie. If we want to live to be in the last eight, we need them. As brutal, and vicious as they may seem to be."
Annie put her supplies down, and sighed. Why was he being so pushy? He had a point, yes, but Annie didn't like them.
"They don't seem dangerous, Cole. They are dangerous," Annie clarified to him. "Cole, this might be easy for you, but I've seen these people's brothers and sisters kill people I know. I want nothing to do with them."
"Annie...they killed my best friend. And as much as it hurts to even talk to them, these are the Hunger Games. I want to live as long as I can, even if it means talking to people who would murder me without thinking twice," he said very softly, and looked into Annie's eyes. She frowned and stood, going to wash off the camouflage.
"You're right. I should try to go make some...allies," she chose the word carefully. They definitely weren't her friends, or her companions. It didn't matter if they did become that, anyway. In a week, all but one would be dead.
Finnick sat in the betting room with the Capitol citizens. They were already secretly bidding, and he was getting as many sponsors as he could for Annie and Cole. He put on his best suit, gelled his hair, and went there as soon as he could. With a glass of water in one hand, he talked to as many people as he could.
"Finnick, I absolutely loved the outfits your stylists chose for this year's parade of tributes," Rosalinde told the boy and Finnick smiled. There. He got one sponsor for his beloved. "Truly, I was in for District Four from the moment I saw the boy and the girl-they looked wonderful together, they complemented each other very well."
"Thank you, Rosalinde. We did our best to entertain the Capitol citizens," he said in his charming way and Mags nodded, sipping at her coffee and looking almost as tired as Finnick. She, as well, had been helping him with the planning. Sometimes, it seemed like she had more energy in this than he did, though. At the end of the day, all Finnick could do was sleep, whereas Mags had to push him to stay up and plan some more.
Rosalinde went on and on and Finnick pretended to listen, considering that his mind was with the girl with crystal blue eyes.
It was late, though. So far, he'd gotten them 14 sponsors. That was enough for a day, right? And he still had many to go. There were people almost lining up to sign the contracts with him, to offer money and valuables to the tributes while in the Games. It was all about appearance, and they had set the best example that they could with Annie and Cole.
But he'd seen the deathly glance Snow had given Annie on the chariot. You could feel it, even from the television in the training center. He was out to kill, and Finnick knew it. Mags had held his hand throughout the whole chariot ride. They were both nervous, and even though Annie did very well in charming the population, the President was intent on killing her for revenge.
Revenge against the fact that Finnick dared to fall in love.
Finnick harbored so much hate for the man. He could control the country, yes, but he could not control his life. He was a victor, he had dealt with the ultimate punishment by the Capitol, and he was going to survive this. And so would Annie.
Even if it meant that he would die for her.
"What happened to your hands, Annie?" he asked in a whisper when he saw how tough her hands seemed. They were red, and they seemed sore. Even her expression seemed painful, completely unexpected. He felt bad for how hard she was training. Considering it was his fault. If she hadn't been reaped, she would never have to face the fears she was going to soon.
He took her hands into his own and ran his fingers over them. When she flinched, he knew there was actual pain there. Her already calloused hands would soon have more. He felt bad, and he wanted her to get out of here, and never look back. If it was possible to volunteer his life for hers, he would. Sadly, he couldn't.
Annie saw the look in his eyes, and pulled her hand back. She smiled at him and rubbed her palms together.
"I'm okay, Finn; I've just been teaching the Careers how to do some knots," she smiled at him and grinned. He raised an eyebrow.
"Hopefully not your best ones."
"I'm saving those for myself," she grinned and he smirked, before taking her hands again and kissing them. She blushed even more.
This was the fourth night they spent together, but the first they had stayed awake to talk. The room was dimly lit, so they could see one another, enough, without giving themselves away. They sat on the bed, cross legged, spending what little time they could together.
"Annie, when you're in there..." he began, but she stopped him with a quick shake of her head. She didn't want to talk about the Arena, not then. This was the time she had to spend with him, and she didn't want to spend it talking about her fate. If she was going to live, she was going to live in the 'then'.
"You can tell me this when you're training us," she explained, and he grimaced. But that was the point. Cole and her were truly becoming partners, something that Finnick actually feared. If it came down to the both of them, he knew which one wouldn't hesitate to kill. And it definitely wasn't Annie.
He had to talk to her; and this was about the only time that they had to talk without anyone watching . He had to tell her how much he needed her to live, that if she had to do something that would ensure that she would live, she had to do it. It was out of his selfish need to have someone he loved, and he knew it. As horrible as he felt, he couldn't lose Annie.
"Just...relax for a bit, Finnick. . You're with me right now, you're not planning. Just imagine we're back home, by our secret spot," she told him and then she kissed him. He smiled, and raised his hand to her neck, keeping the kiss slow and steady.
Telling her could wait a little bit.
"Dad, who is at the Capitol this year?" asked a young girl at the age of eleven, with two dark braids in her hair and light grey eyes. She had just turned eleven, and unknowing of what was to come to her in the near future.
"Mayweather Clear and Johnathan Cook," he told her and held her hand as he lead her through the woods. He was beginning to teach her how to fend for herself, and how to hunt just as he had learned as a child. He had a stern look on his face, and he seemed so serious. It was very unlike him, Katniss Everdeen thought.
"Do you think that they'll win?" she asked hopefully and watched carefully what she stepped on, so that she wouldn't scare away the game. It was something her dad had recently taught her.
He stopped in his tracks, looked at his daughter, and put his bow down. In a year, she would be up for the reaping. One more year, and she would have to put her name in that bowl. He had to talk to her about how...the odds weren't in a lot of people's favors.
"Katniss, I think we should talk," he explained and sat down on a log, with her sitting next to him. She put down her own bow and listened.
"The Hunger Games, are all staged. The winner is always chosen before the Games begin, based on their appearance, appeal, and will to fight. That's why the Careers, District 1, 2, and 4, win most of the time. They know how to portray themselves in front of a crowd, and how to fend for themselves and fight for their lives.
"We, in District 12, don't have that luck. We are the scraps, the people that people barely pay attention to because no one cares. We don't have the appeal, the attractiveness, or the will. We are the District that doesn't matter in the Capitol, and with our starving children, our chances of survival are even lower than usual. So...based on that, Katniss, who do you think is gonna win this year?" he asked his daughter, who frowned at his words. She didn't like the Games as much as anyone else, but...that was horrible.
"District 4," she said very quietly and he nodded.
"Finnick Odair is working hard to keep his tributes alive. We don't know why, but his efforts are way more than before. The tributes looked great, and he probably has plenty of sponsors for them. I wouldn't be surprised if they made it to the top five," he told her. Katniss frowned even more. She didn't like Finnick Odair, because he seemed too pleased to be in the Capitol, and the people raved about him. He seemed stuck up, and annoying. If she ever met him (which she hoped she didn't), she would punch him right in the face.
"We'll see, right, Dad? Maybe May and John can pull out of this alive," she nudged him and gave him a small smile.
She had hope. And that was all he could teach her to have through the next six years of her life.
A/N: This chapter took me a long time to write, because I wanted to capture these days through a lot of eyes. From the civilian, the victim, and the leader. I tried, though. It was a challenge actually. For me, atleast, I never wrote something like this. Oh well, critiques are welcome as well as reviews! Sorry for the late chapter, the next one will be up on Friday :D