A/N: In which the Games officially begin, Sil falls in with Katniss's group, and she wonders, not for the first time, if Finnick's affections for her are fabricated or real.
justabookreader: Thank you! I know, OC stories are either a hit or a miss. I'm glad you like this one :)
liraashryver: Lol, don't worry, once of these days there will be some actual smutty moments between our protagonists and I won't make you suffer any more lol. I couldn't resist going more in depth with all that as I was writing the second half of the story ;) I hope everyone is amenable to some scenes like that because they do exist!
GBblahblahblah: They are kind of similar. I like writing Haymitch, he's a character with a lot of different sides to him and it's been interesting how he reacts to Sil's personality. And there will be more Finnick moments in the near future - they are, after all, in close proximity now!
remifoster1313: I like Finnsil, it really rolls off the tongue lol. The arena arc has been really fun to write, especially concerning Sil's relationship to the other Victors. Unfortunately, the condescension that the others feel towards her is still coming for now though, but we're getting closer and closer to the point of the story where all that changes. All in good time!
Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Now that we're officially in the arena arc, things are gonna start getting interesting.
Chapter Twenty Five | That I find myself
"Had she but turned back then, and looked out once more onto the rose-lit garden, she would have seen that which would have made her own sufferings seem but light and easy to bear – a strong man, overwhelmed with his own passion and his own despair. Pride had given way at last, obstinacy was gone: the will was powerless. He was but a man madly, blindly, passionately in love." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel
The hour flies by far too quickly. Before she knows it, Sil is stepping into the tube and watching it close around her as she is lifted up into the arena. Everything feels like a blur, as if the seconds are melded together. At once she is blinded by an intense sun, and before she even has the chance to look at her surroundings, a Gamemaker's voice sounds around her.
"Welcome to the 75th Hunger Games. Let the countdown begin!" The timer immediately starts, ticking down from 60.
Time continues to blur. Sil looks around from her pedestal, which is in the middle of an ocean. Upon closer inspection, it is more like a large oceanic lake. A beach cuts around it, and a jungle around that. There are more pedestals around her, circling the cornucopia, which she will have to swim to. The thought makes her a little sick.
She's not very good at swimming long distances. Her small pool back in the Cornelius Estate isn't exactly the best form of practice. District 1 is a desert; all sand and no water. Her training to become the rebel she is today had occurred in increments, and always in the vault beneath Mr. Dorsey's shop or far out in the desert of her home. She can shoot a gun easily enough, but this? Water is her weakness…and it is Finnick's strength.
She sees him five pedestals down, standing tall around the lapping water, as if he can't wait to jump in. She should have made him teach her how to swim when they were in District 4! Now she is helpless, the one thing she cannot be in the Hunger Games.
"10…9…8…"
Sil drops into a crouch, clutches the edge of the pedestal tightly, and gets ready to propel herself into the water. She's afraid, but what else can she do? If she waits around, then she'll become a target. She has to at least try.
"7…6…5…"
She sees Finnick dropping into a similar position, propping his foot on the edge so as to push himself off. He lifts his head and looks at her, but he's too far away to read, and Sil just swallows thickly. That is always the problem, isn't it? He is always just out of reach.
"4…3…2…1!" A loud boom goes off and Sil dives in.
There's only one consolation for her ineptitude, and that is that most of the other Victors don't know how to swim either. She's not the only one struggling to push through the water.
It's always surprising, how far a person's will can get them. Sil is determined to reach the Cornucopia, and she does, but she is not the first. Finnick, as expected, had been the first the haul himself onto the nearest stony outcrop that spans from the cornucopia. The moment Sil's arms touch the rocks, he drags her spluttering form up like she's a ragdoll. He's already holding a gleaming silver trident and a belt of knives. When he lifts her up, he does so quickly and effortlessly, righting her before shoving two knives into her hands and pulling her to where Katniss and Mags are already waiting.
"Peeta is still out there!" Katniss is saying. She doesn't even seem to care that Sil has joined their group. Finnick must have already settled things with her.
"I'll get him," Finnick volunteers. "You get to the beach. I'll meet up with you there."
Oh great, more swimming! Sil deflates but doesn't argue. They need to get off this tiny island before it becomes infested with other Victors. They are already crawling up the rocks as Finnick dives back into the ocean with one expert motion, and Mags pulls Sil down one of the rocky trails. Katniss falls behind them, bow drawn and a fierce but anxious look on her face.
They dive back into the water. By the time they get to the beach, Sil has probably swallowed half a gallon of salt water and is a coughing mess. She doesn't even realize that Finnick and Peeta have joined them until her so-called husband drops to his knees beside her and brushes her hair out of her face.
"You okay, sugar?" he asks quietly. There's a tiny, amused smile craning up one half of his mouth and she scowls at it. Only Finnick would find something to laugh about right after the bloodbath of the Hunger Games…especially when it is at her expense.
"Oh shut up," Sil responds, pushing him away. He chuckles, but turns serious moments later. The change is surprising but not really a shock. They're still on the beach, in plain sight of the cornucopia. They need to find cover.
"Come on, up you go," he says, grasping her under the arms and dragging her to her feet. She decides that she really doesn't appreciate him manhandling her, but doesn't exactly have the chance to berate him about it. Katniss is already moving towards the jungle, and Finnick slips a hand around Sil's as he pulls her along in her wake.
"Well now I understand the need for these atrocious outfits," Sil sighs as they start trekking through the undergrowth. The arena is awful this year. Hot and humid. She's already sweating despite having just been splashing around in the water, and can only imagine how the nights will be. She is used to the heat in District 1, but that is dry. This is like there is an ocean of water in the very air she breathes.
Finnick glances back at her with a raised brow, darting his eyes over her outfit as he drawls, "It's barely been five minutes and you're already complaining about our fashionable spandex suits?"
He clucks his tongue and she huffs, trying to wriggle her hand out of his. He merely grins and grasps it tighter, unwilling to let go.
Up ahead, Katniss and Peeta are leading them through the jungle, which is getting thicker with every step they take. It almost feels as if the trees are trying to swallow them whole. She sees Mags struggling to maneuver around several twisting roots and pushes Finnick in her direction. The old woman needs help more than she does.
This time, Finnick seems to agree with her and releases her hand. He puts his arm around Mags and guides her over the undergrowth behind Katniss and Peeta. Sil trails behind, watching the others as they scurry forward, dodging branches and ferns. The farther they go, the darker it gets, yet it seems to grow hotter despite the sun being shrouded from view.
They walk for what seems like miles, deeper and deeper into the tangled jungle. After a while, Katniss stops and suggests that she climbs a nearby tree in search of water. The vantage point will help, she says. But when she drops back down into the soil after several long, grueling minutes, her face says all that needs to be said. There had been no sign of water.
Sil is beginning to wonder if this hell will ever end when they arrive at their first near death experience. She's trudging along behind the group, thinking steadfastly about crisp mountain water and other such tempting things when it happens. Finnick has kept a periodic lookout for her – glancing over his shoulder every other minute to ensure that she is still behind him and has not meandered away. His concern is touching, as well as insulting, but there are more important things to worry about than whether or not Finnick Odair trusts her to keep her head in the arena.
Like Peeta's death, for example.
Death is such a relative term. She doesn't know if it fits the situation or not. All she knows is that Katniss pauses very suddenly to tell them all to stop, and the haze of the jungle clears when the warning comes too late.
"Peeta!" Katniss exclaims as the boy she claims to love slams hard into what must be a forcefield. He's thrown back several feet and lands on his back, twitching as if his body has been burnt through. Sil has never before seen the effects of electrical damage, and she decides that once is quite enough.
"Oh my God," Katniss sobs rather unexpectedly, curling herself around Peeta's prone form. "Peeta, Peeta…"
She's shaking him as if she expects him to just shrug it off and get up, but it's rather clear to everyone else that such a miracle is not about to happen. That's when Finnick steps forward. He pushes Katniss out of the way and purposefully leans over Peeta. Katniss looks up at him with wide, confused eyes as Finnick plugs the boy's nose with two fingers. The moment she sees him do this, Katniss is understandably sent into a spiral of outrage.
"Get off of him!" she hisses, grabbing Finnick's shoulders with a snarl. Sil watches from the background but doesn't get involved. Just as well.
Finnick has it all under control as he says, "I'm trying to save him," in a voice too insistent to be false.
Of course Sil has some understanding of his actions, but even she's taken aback when Finnick plugs Peeta's nose again and drops his mouth to his. It's…maybe a little disconcerting, until Sil realizes just what her faux husband is actually trying to accomplish.
He's pushing breath into Peeta's lungs. Realization dawns. She watches Finnick lean back and press his hands over Peeta's heart, pumping the boy's chest for several seconds before repeating the process all over again. It takes about thirty seconds, though those seconds seem to drag into an eternity as they all wait with baited breath.
Then Peeta gasps, and it's such a harsh, choking, dead sound that Sil very nearly cringes. Katniss's sobbing returns, this time with obvious relief as she throws her arms around Peeta's neck and buries her face against him.
"You were dead!" she cries, "You weren't breathing – "
"I'm okay, Katniss," Peeta rasps, grasping her tightly as she sobs openly against his body.
It's such a private scene that Sil turns away. She looks out over the trail they just traversed and sighs, feeling as if the jungle is swallowing her whole. Everything looks the same. Gnarled roots, low branches, ferns that dart out into the path – and no water. Peeta nearly died and they've come to the end of the line. The forcefield means that they can't keep going forward. She feels suddenly hopeless. Then Finnick's hand twists around her fingers, and Sil looks over at him. His tall form towers above her, and he sends her a wink for good measure. It makes her crack a smile, at least. He makes the world seem lighter.
"You know, for a second there, I thought you were kissing him," Sil lightly says, wanting nothing more than to pretend as though she is somewhere else, somewhere far from here. Perhaps in her home – perhaps in his, curled up on the balcony chairs that overlook the breathtaking glimmering ocean that surrounds District 4. She cannot have the ocean, so she'll have to settle for what little of it remains in the glimmer of his eyes, dark and mysterious.
He laughs. "Were you jealous?" he asks with a mischievous smirk.
Sil is about to roll her eyes and scoff at him when she decides that perhaps she had been a little jealous (just a little), and the Capitol would probably enjoy such a conversation.
She inches closer into his side and smirks right back, twisting her fingers around his as if to say that he is hers.
"I think I was," she says, and isn't sure if she's being honest or not. Is she really playing this up for the Capitol, or is that just an excuse? Sometimes she gets lost in the in-betweens of it all.
If Finnick is also lost, he does a very good job at hiding it. The smile he sends her seems as genuine as ever, as if he is overcome by giddiness and affection.
"No need to be," he tells her, sidling closer and cupping her face. His lips brush gently over her cheekbone and she closes her eyes, swept up in his presence. This, she decides, is not an act. At least not on her part.
He's about to kiss her properly when the others brush themselves off and get up, and suddenly there's no time for romantic actions. The reminder that they are in the arena and not somewhere safe trickles back into Sil's head, and she sighs. Finnick exhales along with her, as if he is as annoyed at the interruption as she is.
"Later," he promises. Probably for the cameras.
They start walking again. Mags ends up saving the day when she starts to eat these strange looking nuts. Katniss claims to be able to hear the forcefield that marks the outer edges of the arena, and she comes up with a way to make sure that they don't run into it again by throwing the nuts at it. Their progress is slow, but safe. It's all they can hope for at this point.
Still, there is no sign of water. When they find a place to stop for the night, they're all dragging their feet and trying not to complain. Sil's throat is parched, and the lack of water has put them all in a terrible mood. It isn't the greatest end to the first day, which is why the subtle beep of an incoming parachute is so gratifying.
It lands in the center of their haphazard encampment, near Peeta. He is the first to reach it. They crowd around him as he does, all hoping for a canister of water to slake their thirst.
"Who's it for?" Katniss wonders, peering over Peeta's shoulder as he unfastens the metal container from the parachute's sails.
"Who cares who it's for? As long as it's water," Finnick says. His remark earns him a sneer from Katniss just as Peeta fishes out the white message from the parcel.
"It's for Sil," he claims, raising his eyebrows. Sil, who hasn't bothered getting up from her perch on a nearby log, snorts. Mags is sitting next to her and sends the younger girl a little smile.
"Naturally," Sil drawls, sweeping her hair out of its ties and running her fingers through the tangled mess. The heat of the jungle has done a number on it despite it being up in a bun all day. Her natural waves are more like frizzled curls now. Yet even in the current situation, she still somehow manages to appear as though she is better than the rest of them. Typical queen complex, Finnick thinks.
Finnick glances at her with a dry expression before turning back to the parcel. "What is it?" he asks, trying to get a good look at the contents.
Peeta pries it open and they all stare at it with dumbfounded expressions.
After a drawn-out moment of gaping, Peeta lifts up a small package of what looks like candies from the center of the compartment.
"…Watermelon Fancies?" Finnick slowly reads. His expression turns several shades drier.
Sil perks up immediately. "Gracious, what a lovely thing to send! My sponsors are so good to me." She smiles prettily and nearly laughs aloud when Finnick turns to gape at her.
"Your sponsors can't send you something…I don't know, useful?" he inquires with a hint of annoyance. He snatches the bag of candy from Peeta's fingers and tosses it at Sil, who expertly catches it as easily as breathing. She pouts at him and settles back against the log as she rips open the plastic bag.
"Watermelon Fancies are my favorite," she counters, as if that makes everything better.
Finnick just groans and rubs his face. Clearly this conversation isn't going anywhere, so he gives up.
Sil just munches happily on the candy. She offers one to Mags, and the two of them get through half the bag before Sil puts it away for now. It is ridiculous, getting candy instead of something more important, but then again, Cashmere is in charge of all her gifts. It makes sense that she would limit Sil's sponsors and try to get them to give Gloss gifts instead.
They settle down for the night and put up watches. Katniss stays up first, claiming that she won't be able to sleep anyhow. No one argues with her, despite the fact that everyone else doubts their ability to get a good night's rest. Sil tries to get comfortable, but lying on the hard, cold ground isn't exactly pleasant, and she ends up just staring into the jungle with her back to the others.
Time passes. Soon enough, Peeta's soft snores fill the silence. He must be exhausted from his meet and greet with death earlier today, so Sil isn't surprised. She more surprised at the way Finnick's voice suddenly drifts over to her from the other side of their makeshift camp.
"I can't sleep. I'll keep watch with you," he quietly says, no doubt talking to Katniss. There isn't any verbal sign of disagreement on Katniss's end. Silence fills the camp again, riddled with the sounds of nature – crickets chirping, bugs flying – it is all so very charming. (Que the sarcasm.)
Sil keeps her eyes closed, trying to find sleep. She wishes she had Peeta's fortitude.
"You know…" Finnick suddenly murmurs, almost too quietly for Sil to hear. "I always thought it was an act. You and him. I realized today that you really do love him."
Katniss grunts, and Sil imagines her face to be set in some kind of grimace. The Girl on Fire hesitantly wonders, almost as if she is ashamed, "…Was it that obvious?"
Finnick chuckles. "You practically threw yourself at him the moment he went down. I don't think anyone could fake those tears."
The reminder of her sobbing must be what makes Katniss grunt. There is a shuffling sound, perhaps of her turning away. Perhaps she is looking at the boy she loves. Sil wishes she had rolled onto her other side so she could see them, but she doesn't want to alert either of them to the fact that she's actually very much awake. She has a feeling that this conversation is a bit more private than they both intended.
She's right, because after a moment, Katniss dryly asks, "Would you have had the same reaction if Sil nearly died?"
Sil stiffens, just a little. They don't know she's awake, so Finnick could respond however he wants and not feel the consequences. He could finally admit that he loathes everything about –
"Well, the CPR would be a lot nicer," he jokes, and Sil scowls. Of course he would joke about this. He always makes light of the important things.
Katniss, though, seems amused. She laughs softly. "That must've been something you learned in 4." It is a question as much as it is a statement.
Finnick hums in agreement. "It's the first thing they teach you before you take a job. I must've scared you, didn't I? Did you think I was trying to steal your boyfriend?" He laughs again.
Katniss blandly responds, "After I decided you weren't trying to kill him, I thought you were trying to make Sil jealous or something. You two have a weird relationship."
Her words, the way the conversation suddenly returns to Sil, seems to make Finnick falter. Sil falters too, though she isn't able to do much of anything except sink into the ground.
After a beat of silence that seems to drag on into forever, Finnick slowly says, "I love her."
Sil's heart nearly beats out of her chest for one brief, beautiful moment – and then she remembers the cameras, the audience, the crowd of Capitol sponsors hooked on his every word. And she falters again, but this time it's worse because there is a certain hopelessness embedded into every shaky breath.
Does he really love her? How much? Is it enough to transcend these cameras? Are his words even real? Or is he just spewing pretty sentiments to get more sponsors and to keep up their little act?
She wishes she could see his face. Perhaps if she could see his eyes she would know if he is being Finnick Odair, Daydream of the Capitol, or just Finnick. Finnick, who she has unwittingly fallen for. Finnick, who has no idea who and what she is.
Katniss must see something that Sil is unable to, because she quietly says, "You should tell her."
The words seem to shatter whatever atmosphere has been building up, because Finnick laughs and responds, "Tell her? I'm married to her."
And they are right back at the start, skirting around the edges of their strange love affair that isn't really an affair at all. It's just a calculated attempt at appeasing their President's orders.
But there must still be something, because Katniss softly murmurs, "Still. You should tell her. We're in the middle of the Hunger Games, Finnick. You don't know what'll happen before the end of it."
Sil holds her breath and slowly lets it out as quietly as she can. Behind her, Finnick sighs.
"I never thought the Girl on Fire would be such a romantic," he mutters. He doesn't say anything more, and after a moment, Katniss seems to have given up on him. Probably just as well. Sil doesn't want Finnick to tell her he loves her only for the cameras. She greedily wants his love to be true and as selfish as hers, something that she doubts will ever happen.
Minutes trickle silently by after that. Sil closes her eyes once again, trying to find the sleep that keeps evading her. Her mind buzzes with thought, and she just isn't comfortable lodged between the hard ground and Finnick's words. It's just as well, then, when her failed attempts at sleep are interrupted.
The soft beeping sound of yet another parachute cascades gently over the camp, and she hears Katniss and Finnick shoot to their feet. It takes Sil every ounce of energy not to join them. She's supposed to be fast asleep, after all.
"Another parachute?" Finnick wonders as he watches the metal container slowly make its way to the ground. Katniss reaches for it the and quickly tears through it.
"Hopefully it's not more candy," she mutters, and Finnicks laughs.
It isn't candy. It's something much more valuable…though neither of them knows it yet. There is no note that accompanies the gift save a rather strange set of words from Haymitch, and it only adds to the confusion that much more. Katniss holds it up to the moonlight and frowns.
"What is it?" she asks. Finnick looks just as lost.
It's metal. One end is sharp and the other is circular. It looks vaguely familiar to Katniss. She wracks her brain, trying to figure out where she's seen an object like this before, but can't come to any conclusions.
"Haymitch wouldn't send something useless," Finnick says, taking the metal piece from Katniss to study it himself. He twists it around, examining every side, but ends up tossing it back to her moments later with a huff. "I don't think he would, anyway. Unless he's going through one of his whiskey episodes. Those are the worst."
Katniss rolls her eyes. "He promised he'd stay sober for me and Peeta. He didn't send this in a fit of drunkenness." She hopes.
They fall silent, staring broodingly at the gift as the minutes slip by. Sil stares into the forest dully, once again wishing that she is facing their direction. Then maybe she could figure out what this mystery item is.
But it doesn't matter, because after a few more minutes of chirping crickets and hooting owls, Katniss suddenly jolts upward with a blurted, "Spile!"
Finnick stares.
"It's a spile!" she gasps, grabbing the metal and throwing herself to the first tree she can reach. "You hammer it into the trunk, and – damn it," she mutters, and searches for a rock.
"Here, let me," Finnick says, tossing one in his hand. He makes short work of it. Soon, the metal is sticking out of the tree, and the two of them are staring at it in apprehension. Finnick is still a little lost, but Katniss seems very sure of herself, so he waits.
The wait is worth it. Water starts to trickle out of the circular side, and Finnick's eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Water in a tree? He hadn't realized that was a thing. Then again, he's a bit out of his comfort zone in this jungle environment.
They jerk forward, taking turns swallowing mouthfuls of water to sate their unquenchable thirst. Katniss hurries over to wake Peeta, and Finnick starts to fill a large leaf with water to bring to Mags. The entire camp soon awakens. Sil does a good job acting disoriented, as if she's just come out of sleep. Finnick's sudden attention helps – when he kneels down beside her with a leaf full of water, she blinks in confusion.
"Water," he explains, clearly not realizing that she's already heard their entire conversation and is well aware. She forces her eyes to widen as if she's shocked at the news, and greedily sits up. Finnick guides the leaf to her lips and she reaches up to hold his wrist as he helps her drink. It's messy, and she's still thirsty, so Finnick helps her to her feet and she launches herself over to the spile to drink more.
As Sil takes her fill of it, Finnick stands behind her and cards his fingers through her hair in a comforting manner. She uses the water as an excuse to ignore his actions, though she can't help but remember his words before.
I love her.
She never would have imagined that those words could give her such grief.
When they've drunk their fill, Katniss loosens the spile from the tree and they all settle back down to get some much needed rest. To Sil's complete surprise, Finnick makes his way to her side and throws himself onto the ground between her and Mags.
"Well this is comfy," he jokes, no doubt speaking more of the fact that he is squished between the two women and not about the hard ground itself.
Mags gives a throaty laugh and reaches over to pat his arm. Sil just rolls her eyes and turns her back on him, facing the opposite direction. At this rate, she's never going to find sleep. Her heart is beating a million miles a minute, just knowing that he is mere inches away.
"Aw, don't be like that, sugar," he says to her, rolling onto his side to peer down at her face. Her hair provides the perfect shield – until Finnick lifts a hand to brush it away. His fingertips burn warmth against her skin and she struggles not to shiver. She doesn't succeed, but luckily Finnick thinks her shivers are for another reason.
"See? You're freezing," he murmurs, and goes one step further as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her body firmly against his.
She gasps and immediately tries to sit up, face red at the indecency of it all (and her nerves). But Finnick just holds her tighter and she ends up flopping against him uselessly. He laughs.
"Finnick!" she hisses, clawing at his hand, which is locked around her abdomen.
"If you keep moving around like that, sleep is gonna be the last thing on my mind," he tells her, only half joking. Needless to say, Sil immediately stops. Horror catches her expression and she swallows tightly.
He leans in to kiss her neck, and against her ear he whispers lowly, "We're supposed to be married, Sil. At least try to play along."
She frowns but doesn't argue. If she's being honest with herself, the idea of moving away from him is even worse. He's solid and warm behind her, and she feels safe in his arms. But the logical part of her ruins the feeling when she wonders if Finnick would ever hold her like this without cameras documenting their actions.
Once again, she is faced with the conundrum of his feelings for her. For now, though, she is tired and warm, and she forces those thoughts from her mind and decides to just enjoy the moment for what it is.
As she subtly snuggles closer to him, Finnick smiles.
If only she could see it, perhaps her worries would be put to rest.