I updated on time!
And some good news is that I only have two more weeks of exams before I have loads of free time and will be able to update weekly again. :D
Thank you so much to everyone who bothers to review/alert/favourite this story. It means a lot.
If you recognise it, I don't own it.
Chapter Twenty Five: Promises Fulfilled
I sunk lower into the cooling waters of the bath. Admittedly, the water had been 'cooling' for such a long time now that it was similar to sitting in a tub of ice water, but I hadn't been able to find the energy or willpower to sit up and get out.
A loud rapping on the door to the bathroom made me jump.
"Finnick!" Daphne's voice demanded through the wood. "Your appearance on the balcony needs to be aired; Xenya needs to dress you soon."
With a sigh, I prodded the chain attached to the bath plug with my foot lethargically. I knew that I was just putting off the inevitable however I was in no mood to get up and face the crowds of District Seven. The districts I had already been to had revealed to me that the appearances in front of the crowds of people who had seen me at my lowest was awkward and the glares of the families whose children had died seem to haunt me even after I had left the balconies.
The silver chain caught on my foot and I tugged the plug out, not moving as the water slowly drained away.
"Finnick! Get out of the bathroom!"
Daphne knocked rapidly on the door to get the urgency across and I sighed, hauling myself to my feet before wrapping a soft, clean towel around my waist. I unlocked the door and moved into the grand room where everyone was preparing for my appearance.
Xenya was waiting for me in the door to the small room that we were using as the changing room. He pursed his lips at the sight of my still-wet body and instructed me to make sure I was one hundred percent dry before I even touched the pile of clothes that were left folded neatly on the small table that was the only piece of furniture in my room.
I followed his instructions to the letter and spent an exorbitant amount of time removing every single water droplet from my body.
I knew that taking my time wouldn't change the fact that I had to spend on the balcony talking to District Seven, but it would hopefully give me a few more minutes to collect myself. In all the other districts I had been okay because the tributes weren't anyone I knew particularly well – apart from Alys, but I had left her on the first night in the arena.
Lian and Genn had been the closest things to friends in that arena. And they didn't try to kill me once. It would probably have been different if we had got down to the final three; they would have gone as rabid and bloodthirsty as anyone else however I never had to see them at that stage. I just got to know the two siblings who wanted to go home.
And then I watched them both die.
The clothes were as soft and well made as ever, but they seemed a little too tight around my body as I unlocked the door and stepped out of the small closet. I tugged at the collar, trying to loosen it so breathing would be easier however it still felt uncomfortably snug.
Xenya batted my hand away as I moved to undo the top button and his silent glare as he set to work smoothing out the wrinkles told me that I would lose that hand if I didn't stop fidgeting.
Daphne was, as ever, oblivious to my discomfort as she appeared at my elbow, the clipboard with our schedule clasped firmly in her hand.
"We'll need to be quick, quick, quick!" she chirped. "The camera crew is ready and waiting outside for your appearance and the mayor will be arriving any second. We don't want to keep them waiting, Finnick! It won't look good."
"Sorry, sorry," I muttered under my breath as she tucked the clipboard under one arm and firmly held my hand and led me to the wide double doors that led to the balcony before disappearing to inform the nearby lackeys that I was ready.
I saw Mags being shepherded through a smaller door – probably leading to the smaller viewing platform that she watched from. A small flurry of motions from one of the helpers warned me that the double doors were about to open.
Clouds covered the sun today and there was the distinct tension of a storm brewing in the air. The skin on the back of my neck rose uncomfortably as my memories of the hurricane in District Four that my family died in were drawn to the forefront of my mind. However this was no time to breakdown, not with every camera in the vicinity focused on my face – which was currently hosting my most charming smile as I beamed out at the crowd who were applauding.
There was only one stand for the Lian and Genn's family. Their parents sat on the two chairs, their hands clasped together. Around them was a small mass of young children with Genn's black hair. All of them looked underfed.
It was probably why both Lian and Genn had volunteered – there would be a higher chance of one of them winning and saving their family.
The applause stopped and the District Seven mayor began his speech as Lian and Genn's family stared sorrowfully up at me. I tried to ignore them as I smiled for the cameras. A small, fair-haired girl with a stocky build (probably gained from working with cattle from such a young age) skipped onto the stage and offered me a large bouquet of yellow flowers which I accepted with a big smile and a ruffle of the child's hair.
I finally allowed my eyes to rest on the family as I read out my own, personal speech.
"Lian and Genn were my two closest allies in the arena. They were both kind and brave when most are cruel and bloodthirsty. They saved my life. Without them, I would have been one of the first tributes to die." I paused to draw a breath as I stared next paragraphs I had written, thanking them for volunteering but I couldn't bring myself to say the words that thanked two children for dying. "I'm just sorry that I didn't manage to save them."
They were crying, but the nod of acceptance I gained from the father calmed my nerves. At least I had been forgiven for one of my mistakes. Mags squeezed me into a tight hug as soon as we were behind closed doors. I relaxed into her hold – closing my eyes and allowing myself to be looked after for a second before the Capitol agenda pulled us apart and sent us to our next destination.
The districts slipped by in much the same manners after that one. There were a few changes as we slowly moved closer to the Capitol, though: the cheers started getting louder and more enthusiastic, the people were better fed and happier and the after parties lasted longer and ended later.
The people in District One didn't even want me to get off the stage – they chanted for encore as soon as tried to retreat from their view. Even the families of the dead children gave me a standing ovation once I was done. Though I came from a Career district and understood the basic love for the Hunger Games, I had never seen anything equal to this level of passion and longing.
Past Victors were also falling over themselves to meet me. There were only a few in the outer districts and so I wasn't prepared for the madness of the District Two party.
Victors were everywhere; overwhelming the numbers of District officials that had arrived. I had expected that there would be a lot of them – after all, most of the past sixty-five victors were spread out over District One, District Two and District Four – but I hadn't expected that as soon as I entered the room it would be like sharks smelling blood.
The younger ones beat their older counterparts to me. It was strange being circled by people my age that knew what I had gone through; District Four hadn't had a victor in a while. It was stranger still that none of them seemed to carry the same remorse that I did – they all jabbered excitedly at me at what a hit I was in the Capitol and how my life was going to be amazing. Many of them posed for photos for the press with me.
The older victors were slightly more conservative. Instead of leaping into my arms for hugs, they respectfully shook my hand before commenting on how expertly I played the Games and how well I influenced the Capitol. However the animalistic look of pleasure that entered their eyes as they discussed the Games mimicked that of the young victors.
Invitations for weapons showings and banquets and gatherings in the Capitol were pressed into my hands left right and centre. Apparently the victors from other districts did form bonds between each other and enjoyed meeting up at parties in the Capitol.
As Mags and I left the District One party, the night before I was due in the Capitol I asked her about it.
She shrugged. "The only people who understand what the Games are like are our fellow victors. It's unsurprising that the closest friends we have are each other." She saw my eyes drop to the list of parties that had been shoved in my hand by Cashmere – the girl who won two years before. "Be careful, though, the Career Victors are just as conceited as any Capitolite and will delight in pushing you down to get themselves higher."
I scrunched up the paper and shoved it into the recesses of my pocket as we boarded the train.
It was barely four in the morning when I was summoned to Snow's office. The train had arrived an hour before and we were ushered to our old rooms in the Training Centre to catch a few more hours of sleep before we were expected to make our appearances to my adoring fans.
My head was barely on the soft pillow for twenty minutes before an Avox grabbed my shoulders and shook me awake.
"Wha-" I mumbled, my brain still firmly trying to get me back to sleep.
The Avox gave me another shake and I felt awareness slowly start to seep into my consciousness.
I blinked. "What do you want?"
He gestured to the open the door, where I could see two Capitol staff standing stiffly in their black suits. They barely acknowledged my presence as I dragged myself up of my elbows and swung my legs off the edge of the bed so I was sitting up.
"Can I help you?" I demanded – rather rudely, but it was four in the morning so I had a legitimate reason to be less than impressed.
"The President requires you," one of the men said. "We were ordered to escort you to his office immediately."
That woke me up.
"Now?" I asked with trepidation.
They nodded as one and I pushed myself to my feet. I was still wearing the clothes from the District One party – not bothering to have taken them off once I had got on the train. I slipped my feet into the smart black shoes that Xenya forced my feet into whenever there was a chance I would be seen in public (in other words: everywhere) and grabbed the black jacket that lay in a crumpled mess on the floor. I felt the disdainful sneers of the two men at my less-than-put-together appearance, but ignored them.
As soon as I neared them, two heavy hands landed on my shoulders, steering me out of the room and down the dark corridors. I glanced uneasily as we walked swiftly past Mags' closed door but didn't protest. It would be useless.
Despite the early time, the corridors around President Snow's office were bursting with silent activity. Avoxes ran around trying to keep out of the way of the suited men and women as they strode down the corridors, hands glued to communication devices. No one talked or even recognized each other's presence.
The double doors to Snow's office were closed but the two guards sprang to open them as soon as I approached. The Capitol staff that had accompanied me gave me a small push before turning on their heels and walking away.
"Finnick," President Snow said warmly, as if greeting an old friend. He gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk, "Please sit down."
I sank slowly into the leather, every nerve of my body tensed to flee at the first sense of danger. The adrenaline pumping through my system made feel like I was in the arena once again. Except this situation was so, so much more dangerous.
"I trust you've had a good Tour. Would you like some coffee? I know you haven't had much sleep."
"I'm plenty awake, but thank you for the offer, sir."
He smiled politely and called in an Avox to collect the mugs of coffee on his desk.
We didn't speak for a while after that. Snow tweaked the rose on his lapel before leaning his elbows on the desk and surveying me over his interlaced fingers. Despite my nerves, I resisted the urge to fiddle with my clothes and instead took the chance to examine his office.
It was much like any of the political offices that were shown sometimes on the news, though possibly slightly bigger. The walls were decorated with large filing cabinets and bookshelves containing big, boring looking books. The only thing that made it different was the roses. They were everywhere. Perfect white roses in classic vases stood on every surface. There were paintings on the walls and the air was bitter with the sweet stench of the flower.
President Snow lowered his hands onto the table, signaling to me that the real conversation was about to start.
"I'm so glad that you changed your mind, Finnick."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak without swearing or yelling.
"It's a shame that your family had to die, of course – the Capitol were very taken with your little sister after your address to her during your interview – but you need to understand that all of your actions have consequences."
I still didn't speak.
He didn't seem surprised by this and carried on with his monologue. "Now, Finnick, you're fifteen which is the legal age of consent here andin your own district so I can't imagine you'll have any protests," he paused and then added, "I'm sure your lovely, supportive mentor will try to help if you do have any."
It was a barely concealed reminder of what I still had to lose.
"I don't have any," I said meekly, hating how easily I was giving in to this.
He smiled. "Excellent. Now, I believe that you have met Isadora Yang before?"
He opened one of the files and pushed it towards me. Inside was a picture of Isadora – the Capitol woman I had met at my victory party. One of the two most influential women in the city. She was just as repulsive as she had been before. There was also a sheet of paper describing her life in obsessive detail. I felt like I was being inducted into the Capitol's secret service.
"Yes, I met her after my Games," I answered.
"She was very taken with you, Finnick." The statement was simple and complimentary but so much more sinister with the knowledge of what it actually meant. "Apparently she didn't stop talking to her friends about you for months afterwards. She even came to have a little chat with me about you. She is very excited to meet you again and you are very excited to meet her again, aren't you?"
I closed my eyes to escape his intrusive stare and nodded. "Yes."
A smug smile spread across Snow's lips. "Excellent. You may go."
As if summoned, the two guards were opening the doors. My escorts were stood waiting against a wall. I stood up and made to give back the folder on Isadora but Snow held up a hand to stop me.
"No, Finnick, that is yours to keep. If I were you I would learn what you have in common so you have something to talk about this evening."
I shuddered, but kept hold of the file.
"I shall most likely see you at the banquet tonight." He smiled once again. "That is, if you aren't kept busy by your fans. Goodbye."
Question for all of my readers (please read and answer): seeing as this story is rated M, should I or should I not write about the actual night that Finnick has? It wouldn't be just plain smut, it would be relevant to the plot but I'm aware I started this out as a T and some of you may not want it to include sex scenes…
Next update: 25th/26th June
Thank you all for putting up with my awful updating schedules.