A/N: In which Sil begins to realize that even though the war is won, there are several more battles yet to be fought.

Bharm: This chapter will start to introduce my plans for Felix's plot, so it will all make sense soon enough! Finnick will be back in the next chapter. You won't have to wait for much longer for a reunion. And there will definitely be cheesy fluff lol

nox06: Thank you! Just one more chapter till Finnick and Sil come together again, don't worry. I won't make you suffer this time around ;)

PonyoButtersnaps: Lol ;) This chapter will explain what you have already guessed at. We aren't quite finished with the drama after all. There's still one last major arc to go before the story starts wrapping itself up.

Guest: Welllll you're definitely on the right track, but Finnick won't be the primary target. The next few chapters will make everything clear regarding Felix's plans.

remifoster1313: Gale just ended up taking the reins. I've been having fun writing his character in this story! For some unplanned reason, Sil likes to flirt with him to make him uncomfortable. Lol. Finnick will be in the next chapter!

Thanks for the reviews and I hope you all enjoy. This is an important chapter, as it sets the stage for the next arc.


Chapter Fifty One | Fits against yours

"Yet there was something in his attitude, something in those pale, foxy eyes, which seemed to freeze the blood in her veins, as would the sight of some deadly hitherto unguessed peril." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel

The next morning, Sil is up before dawn. It isn't entirely by choice. The morphling has completely worn off now, and the medication that the doctor had given her is not strong enough to dull the pain altogether. On top of that, sleeping on her stomach is extremely uncomfortable. She's had a very restless sleep speckled with unpleasant dreams that haven't helped.

With a sigh, she rolls out of bed and clumsily pops two of the pills that the doctor had given her yesterday. She will have to go back to get her wounds checked today. Whatever ointment the doctor had used on her seems to have helped considerably though. Before, even the slightest movement had been agonizing. Now, as she stands up and carefully moves across her room, the pain is more of a dull ache and the wounds, when she looks, have scabbed over already. It is perhaps the one good thing about the Capitol, these medical advancements.

She goes to the window and pulls the curtains open. The sun is barely peeking over the far horizon, casting the sky with a soft grey light as the world awakens. She considers sitting in one of the chairs to watch its slow arch, but she gets bored after only a few minutes of idling around.

Oh, Sil enjoys luxurious days spent lazing around just as much as the next person, but she isn't in the mood for that right now. Not in President Snow's manor and not while she is injured. And besides, she has far too much work to do to waste her time. So after staring at the window for several lengthy, awful minutes, Sil rolls her eyes and turns to get dressed.

Having no other clothes besides the bloody rags she'd arrived in yesterday, Sil carefully wriggles into a long robe that the nurse had brought last night. It's a bit painful to move, but she manages after a brief struggle. Once she is dressed a bit more conservatively, she wastes very little time in grabbing her PAAD underneath her arm and walking into the hall in just her nightshirt and robe.

Well it's not as if the entirety of Panem hasn't seen her in less. She does get quite a few looks from rebel soldiers patrolling the halls, though.

One even stops and asks her if she needs any assistance, to which she pauses, tilts her head, and suggests, "I would love some coffee, darling, if you're heading in the direction of the kitchen. One spoon of sugar and a dash of cream. And maybe some croissants!"

The soldier nods quickly, eyeing her in a way that should probably make her feel awkward for being so underdressed, except that she is far more concerned with getting her coffee and starting her work to truly care.

She strides away before the soldier can verbally respond, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be down on the veranda, my love. Do hurry."

She does indeed venture to the veranda, which is on the bottom floor and boasts several comfortable looking chairs. She takes a seat in one, carefully easing back so as not to upset her wounds, and crosses her legs before propping the PAAD in her lap. Then, opening the screen, Sil frowns at the device and wonders how she should go about this, and who she should contact.

Luckily, a very familiar voice brings the answer to her problems.

"Silver?! What the hell are you doing?" Mr. Dorsey's voice suddenly questions, and Sil is so surprised to hear the cadence of it that she turns quickly, her PAAD sliding off her lap in the process.

Dorsey has quick reflexes though. He's close enough to snatch it before it hits the ground, and goes to hand it to her with a disbelieving look on his face, like he can't believe she'd be so clumsy. That's about the time when he notices the bandages peeking out from beneath her nightshirt, and he curses almost theatrically.

"Well fuck," he mutters after a moment, "I leave you alone for a few days and you go and hurt yourself. What happened?"

Determined not to be overly morose about her current situation, Sil forces a smile onto her face and says, "Oh, nothing really, just Felix with a vendetta. Not exactly unusual." She mutters the last part somewhat beneath her breath, though Dorsey hears it. He grunts in agreement and goes to pull a chair beside hers.

As he drags it over the cement of the veranda, he nods at her, "Dunno why you're up at this ungodly hour, but we might as well catch up a bit."

Sil agrees, but before she can verbally respond, Dorsey adds, "Also, you do know that you're in scantily clad pajamas, don't you?"

At this, Sil can't stop the laugh the bubbles into existence. It's the first time in ages since she's actually laughed genuinely, and once she starts, she finds that it is rather difficult to stop. Dorsey just watches her with a humorous expression, evidently deciding that it isn't worth interrupting with his usually dour commentary.

"Gracious," Sil chuckles, "Why, I hadn't even realized." The sarcasm in her voice makes him roll his eyes.

"Just want to make sure you're okay with that racy show of leg you're giving me. Not that I'm complaining," he shrugs, and sends her a playfully leering grin that she doesn't take seriously.

"Careful, Dorsey," she threatens, "I might not be in full health, but I can still beat you up."

He chuckles, "I've no doubt, Cornelius. Now, how about you tell me what the hell happened to you? I heard all about your little 'sacrificial lamb' stunt. Odair had quite a bit to say about that."

Mention of Finnick makes Sil immediately pause, arranging her features into what she hopes is calm nonchalance. She clears her throat and idly asks, "Ah. And what did he say, pray tell?"

Dorsey snickers at her ruse, which he sees right through, and smirks, "Only that you're the stupidest woman alive. Or something along those lines."

The explanation makes Sil shift uneasily in her chair, though she isn't all that surprised. She could just imagine Finnick saying that, with no shortage of exasperation. It still makes her a bit hesitant though.

"…And he's here? At the manor? When did you arrive?" she asks, firing question after question as she stares over at Dorsey expectantly. He's quite used to her mannerisms by now, though, and he just shrugs.

"No. I went on ahead of them. They're being escorted here by some of Coin's men. Should be here soon, I'm sure," he muses, eyeing her with a slight smirk that she definitely notices.

Rolling her eyes at his expression, Sil tries and fails to appear as apathetic as possible to the news. When she glances casually over at Dorsey and sees the shit eating grin he's wearing, though, she rolls her eyes and drops the act.

"You don't have to look so amused," she grumbles to herself, propping her leg up on the table in front of her. Dorsey laughs.

"Can't help it," he admits, not sounding very apologetic. "I've just never seen you so at a loss before. That boy spins you for a loop. It's funny."

She's about to reprimand him for his questionable humor regarding her love life, or lack thereof, when the soldier she had rather insolently ordered coffee from reappears with a steaming mug, complete with a plate of pastries.

"Here you are, Miss Cornelius," he says eagerly, eyes lingering a little too long on her bared leg. At his appearance, Sil turns around and smiles brightly at him.

"Thank you, darling," she purrs, and send him a wink that makes his entire face explode in deep red. Dorsey watches the scene with a raised eyebrow but doesn't comment.

"Do you need anything else?" the soldier wonders as he sets the mug down on the table beside her.

Sil merely shrugs and dismisses him with a, "Not at the moment…" she trails off and looks at him expectantly, and he nearly trips over his feet to give her his name.

"Cassius, ma'am."

Humming in amusement, Sil murmurs, "Thank you, Cassius. You're such a darling for helping me."

The boy blushes again and backs away, ducking his head as he disappears through the doors. Sil smirks at the sight, and Dorsey rolls his eyes at her.

"Don't let Finnick see you flirting your way through the soldiers," he warns her as he leans back with a stretch. Then, scoffing, he mutters, "Sending a rebel soldier to get you coffee…you're being very brazen this morning."

She simpers at him as she leans forward, lifting the mug to her lips. As she takes a sip, she tells him, "They're just so easy to corrupt, Dorsey, I can't help it! And besides, Finnick is even worse than I am. He's the Capitol Flirt, not me."

With a shrug, Dorsey responds, "That may be so, but I could see him as the overprotective, annoyingly possessive type."

Sil can't help but smile slightly at the thought, eyes shining as she imagines Finnick being that way towards her. What a notion!

As she awkwardly leans over the edge of the chair to reach for a pastry, Dorsey unlocks her PAAD and prompts, "So after you heroically sacrificed yourself so your true love could live another day, Felix managed to give you hell and now you're here? Am I missing anything?"

She raises her eyes to him, the mug still against her lips, and shrugs. "You've pretty much covered it."

He looks doubtful. "Really? I can't imagine that Felix would make it that easy. He didn't do anything else, did he?"

She pauses, but truthfully says, "No. I was expecting him to return, but…he disappeared. I think he knew that staying at the manor would be a death sentence. Coin tells me he wasn't here when the soldiers took the place over."

This makes Dorsey sneer out an angry, "That coward. I'll bet he also knows that there's a line of people waiting to beat him up, now that he's not under Snow's protection. Wait till I get my hands around his scrawny little neck."

Sil purses her lips, fighting down a smile. He notices, of course. Dorsey is extremely perceptive – a rather important attribute, in their line of work. When he gives her a questioning look, she just snickers, "Never mind Finnick. You're being plenty overprotective right now."

He doesn't seem to mind her words, because he just grunts. She smiles wider and tries to reach for the pastry again, without having to move too much and upset her injuries. The ridiculous sight she makes as she tries to reach the plate has Dorsey sighing out and lifting it for her. He holds it steady in front of her face and Sil beams at him. As she takes one, he says, "Guess I should update you on my end while we're exchanging stories."

She looks interested to hear his side of things, so he explains, "Well, I was minding my own business, you know, making sure all my wares were under lock and key in case some dumbass soldier tried to raid my stock – don't look at me like that, I have a business to run – and all the sudden, the Girl on Fire busts my damn door open. Walks in like she owns the place. I don't think she was very impressed by our operation, I'm afraid – until I showed them true District 13 hospitality."

Sil scoffs in amusement and jokes, "I didn't know there was such a thing."

He promptly ignores her, opting to toss her a look as he theatrically continues, "They were naturally surprised by the scope of the shop. Clearly they weren't expecting to see our underground base. I patched your boy up and fed them. Showed 'em around. You know, a tour around all four corners. They liked your closet."

He smirks at her and Sil chuckles. "Mmhmm. And then…?"

"Then the Mockingjay and that Gale fellow borrowed some of your clothes and headed off toward the manor. Don't know what happened, exactly, but I'm assuming they got caught up in the explosions."

Sil pops the small pastry into her mouth and muses, "Yes, I think I heard a few soldiers talking about that." She looks out into the distance for a moment before turning back to Dorsey with a slightly different expression.

He knows that look well. It's the look of his leader. It's the reason he's pledged his loyalty to this unassuming young woman. Intelligence gleams through Sil's eye, with a heaving helping of determined fire.

"Sil?" he asks, prompting her.

She leans back in her chair. He puts the pastry plate down. Playtime, it seems, is over.

"Coin expects there will be small scale riots in Districts 1 and 2 over the next few months. She's asked me to keep an eye on them. I need to contact Tommy, and Marcus maybe – last time he checked in, he was in District 2 – and a few of the others."

Her explanation has Dorsey nodding slowly, rubbing his jaw as he mulls over her words. "I can compose the messages for you. Just tell me what to say."

He unlocks the PAAD, opens up an encrypted message, and waits. Sil remains silent for a moment before speaking her message aloud in a quiet voice. Dorsey jots it down on the screen and sends it out. He does this several more times to a few other agents before Sil is satisfied.

"Tommy's somewhere in the Capitol," he tells her once he hits 'send'. "He'll get back to us quickly."

Sil nods. She stares at Dorsey, who looks back at her and raises an eyebrow. Then, impatiently, Sil nods at the pastry plate and he rolls his eyes.

"I should just call that lovestruck soldier back here. I bet he'd love to wait on you hand and foot," he mutters, but doesn't complain too much as he lifts it once again for her.

Sil smirks at him.

"His name is Cassius, and I intend on making him my official barista during my stay. He makes an excellent cup of coffee," she informs him cheekily. He just sighs.


In an effort to keep herself busy, Sil throws herself into her work with gusto. Dorsey is a constant presence by her side over the next day. The League of the Sterling Nightingale have always acted as her eyes and ears, and that hasn't changed. For the time being, at least. Dorsey helps her write up messages, plan out which agents will go where, and strengthen the network of intelligence they've worked so hard to build.

Correspondence between the other agents comes in at odd but not unusual hours. Messages are sent only when it can be done without blowing the agent's cover. Early mornings and late evenings, at the most random hour of the day or night – Sil understands how the operation works. She's been in it for years now, after all, which is why she's not really that surprised when Dorsey rushes into the living room later that evening after supper.

Things have been moving rather slowly here at the manor. Sil has found herself spending quite a lot of time with Katniss and Gale during the daytime hours. Despite her initial meeting with Gale Hawthorne, they've warmed up to each other considerably, and there is even a feeling of respect that has sparked between them once they've gotten to know each other a bit more. The three of them have found themselves together much more often than Sil had expected. She finds the duo's presence comforting, in a way. Katniss's realistic and sometimes blunt approach to everything somehow puts her at ease. There are no pretenses in the way the Girl on Fire holds herself, and Gale matches the feeling completely. Sil enjoys their presence.

The three of them are gathered in the living room tonight. Katniss still appears to be a little unsure of Sil's character, but the girl didn't seem to mind her appearance when she had arrived an hour before. In truth, though Katniss used to dislike Sil's alter ego with an extremity that cannot be surpassed, this version of Sil is far better. She doesn't mind her nearly as much now that Sil has lost her high-pitched, exaggerated accent or the dozens of pet names she used to pepper her conversation with back when she was pretending to be the idiot everyone used to see her as.

The pair of them are sitting on the couch together while Gale throws darts on the other end of the room. His aim is spectacular, no doubt honed from years of hunting and his more recent training for the rebel army. Sil watches him curiously, hand under her chin as she props her elbow on the arm of the couch, but the moment Dorsey rushes into the room, her attention is placed firmly back on solid ground.

She locks eyes with him, sees the way he's looking at her, and immediately slips from the couch to go to his side. Dorsey drags her to the corner of the room and shows her the screen of the PAAD.

"This just came in from District 1," he says to her, holding up the brief message so she can read it.

The other occupants of the room glance over at the scene, watching the pair with keen interest. Interest that turns to worry the moment they see Sil's gaze turn to Dorsey's with frantic determination.

Sil demands, "What agents are near 1?"

Dorsey just tightens his mouth and responds, "Marcus is in 2 and Zephyr's in 8. The others are in the outlying districts."

Furious, Sil turns to him with dark eyes and mutters, "I ordered half of them to 1 and 2 days ago. They should have informed me they were held up."

Dorsey shakes his head and flicks through the PAAD, murmuring, "These also just came in."

Sil scans them and rolls her eyes. The messages inform her that the agents she's asked to be in 1 and 2 have been predisposed for now in the other districts. Their reasons are acceptable, but all Sil can think about is the fact that there are riots in District 1 and her father is likely a prime target.

Riots. She can imagine them now, those loyal citizens of her home district, revolting against the idea of the rebels occupying the Capitol and changing their entire way of life. And it will be changed – everything will be changed. The life of luxury that her kinsmen have experienced since the onset of the Hunger Games will be disrupted, and their special status as the Capitol's favored district will come crashing down. And her father is right in the center of it.

He will surely be a prime target because of his connection to her. Now that the identity of the Sterling Nightingale is widely known across Panem, her father is in grave danger. She's been so swept up in the proceedings here at the manor that she hadn't given much thought to her own personal claim in this war. It's been about the bigger picture for as long as she can remember. Her father's been safely tucked away at the Cornelius estate all this time – but no more. The entirety of District 1 will turn on him the moment they remember he is there. They might have already done so.

Standing stiffly in front of Dorsey, Sil blankets her fear with a mask. She cannot allow her worries to fuel her plans. She must consider this new dilemma carefully.

"Is there any proof of riots, or is it propaganda?" is the first thing she asks after gathering herself.

Dorsey looks at her for a long moment before turning to the PAAD and pulling up a clip that looks like it's been taken by a civilian's camera. He pulls it up, dragging the scene into the air above the PAAD so that Sil, and everyone else in the room, can see it clearly play out.

District 1 is a pandemonium. She watches blankly as the puffed up citizens she knows so well riot

in the streets, overturning stalls in the market district and shouting obscenities about Coin and the rebel army. It is a terrible sight to witness, but worse still is the way the rioters enter the Victor's Village, whose elite houses tower up in the square like Capitol monuments. But the people aren't there to destroy Capitol property – they're there to put an end to the rebel sympathizers: the Victors themselves.

She doesn't need to watch anymore. It's a well known fact in District 1 that Silver Lamprey Cornelius doesn't actually live in the house she'd received after her Games. Her estate sprawls out at the edge of the city. It is a landmark in its own right, with its imposing architecture and long, private driveway that separates it from the squalor of District 1's busy city life.

Sil and Dorsey stare each other down for a few heavy moments as her mind whips around with half formed plans. Plans that are interrupted when Gale's voice cuts in to demand, "What the hell is going on?"

Sil turns to spear him with a dark look that is entirely foreign on her face. Katniss and Gale stare at her in surprise. They are all so used to her inane smiles and lazy expressions that the sight of her now is a stark contrast from her old self.

Katniss sits up warily and slowly asks, "…Sil? Was that District 1?"

The Girl on Fire remembers the district vaguely from her Victory Tour the year before. She hadn't gotten a very good look at the city, but she recognizes the luxurious atmosphere and remembers being taken aback and mildly disgusted at the similarities it shares with the Capitol.

Sil doesn't respond. She just stares at Katniss with that dark look and then whirls back around to Dorsey. No longer bothering to talk quietly, she says stiffly, "Get Tommy on the phone. And call in the other agents. I don't care if they blow their cover – they need to be in 1 as soon as possible."

With that, she takes her leave, but before she can exit the room, Dorsey calls, "And what are you going to do?" The sarcastic tone of his voice makes her smile tightly at him.

"I'm going to speak with Coin," she says airily. Dorsey doesn't try to stop her again as she leaves.

He just grumbles as he opens a secure connection and starts sending off messages to the agents, slowly walking to the door as he does. Like Sil, though, he doesn't get far before the others jump in to stop him.

"What was that?" Gale asks, just as Katniss questions, "Is Sil in trouble?"

The inquiry has Dorsey glancing at them, and the look on his face could almost be likened to concern.

He impatiently mutters, "She's not in trouble. Her family estate is though. District 1 is one huge fucking mob right now. Apparently they don't like the change of leadership."

He mutters something that sounds like 'loyalist scum' as Gale mutters, "Not really that surprising. District 1 has been living in the lap of luxury for years now. Without the Capitol's support, they're in for one hell of a change."

Katniss, though, merely scoffs and sarcastically asks, "So what? Sil's worried about her house being vandalized? That's not exactly our biggest concern right now."

Dorsey shoots the girl an aggravated look and opens his mouth to defend Sil. "She's not worried about her house, Katniss. She's worried about her father. If he's not already a target of these riots, he's about to be."

For her part, Katniss looks a bit chagrined at having jumped to conclusions, and doesn't try to argue.

"…I didn't even know she had family," the Girl on Fire mutters almost to herself, though the entire room hears.

Dorsey, who is still typing up messages, pauses and says, "Gemma Cornelius is her father. I'm surprised you haven't heard of him. He's famous in the Capitol for his high-end jewelry. Both him and Silver are jewelers, actually. How'd you think this war was funded?"

The news seems to come as a shock to both Katniss and Gale. With raised eyebrows, Gale asks, "Really? So Sil funded the rebellion with her family's money? That's gotta be an impressive donation."

His words just make Dorsey snort. The older man peers down at Gale and says, "The Cornelius estate is probably one of the wealthiest places outside the Capitol, kid. To Sil, that was pocket money."

In truth, no one's ever really thought about Sil's background. Well, no one besides Finnick, who has seen her estate first hand. Dorsey's words wouldn't be so surprising if they had seen Sil's house. The Cornelius manor is an almost surreal place. Though Dorsey has only been there a few scant times, and only under the cover of night, he's never seen its comparison even here in the Capitol – and he's seen his share of rich, swanky places around these parts.

The room falls into silence at his explanation. After a few seconds of this, Dorsey looks up from the PAAD he's been furiously typing away at and says, "I should go track her down before she challenges Coin to a duel or something. Crazy woman."

As he leaves, a sullen silence falls upon the pair, who look at each other quietly. This sudden turn of events has made the both of them, in some capacity or another, realize one important thing: that they really don't know the Victors as well as they thought they did – especially Silver Lamprey Cornelius, the ever elusive Sterling Nightingale.


Coin isn't happy when Silver barges into her office with demands. Not happy at all.

It isn't enough that she's completely bogged down with heavy to-do lists concerning all manners of things that range from politics to executions. Now Sil wants to split the rebel army to send soldiers to District 1? Her answer is swift and immediate.

"No," she says, and turns back to the report she's reading.

Sil isn't surprised by the refusal, but she's also not going to let it go so easily.

"I need only a few men," she says, and adds, "My agents are too far away to make it there in time. It would be a covert mission – in and out under the cover of night – that's it."

Coin sighs and puts the report onto her desk. She spears Sil a heavy look and calmly responds, "You are our Nightingale. What makes you think I'll allow you to go into enemy territory in your current state? It would be far too dangerous."

The reminder of her injuries makes Sil sigh, too.

Coin reaches for a pen and, as she signs her name to the report, tells Sil, "We're working on reopening the hospitals as soon as possible. You'll have the best medical care in Panem soon enough. Just wait until then."

The words make Sil feel like she's bursting with impatience. Angrily, she stares Coin down and insists, "I cannot wait! My father is in the center of those riots. They will cut him down where he stands if I don't bring him here."

Her aggravated tone makes Coin look up at her with a stern, tight expression. Sil backs off a little, knowing that she's walking a fine line. Not that it helps much.

"You won't do anyone any good until you are healed," Coin tells her. "And I can't spare the men to make a trip into District 1. We're already struggling to keep our hold on the Capitol as it is."

Trying to calm down, Sil slowly says, "I already feel much better from the medication the nurses have been putting on my wounds. If I had to, I'd be able to get the job done just fine. And besides, you need people stationed in District 1. It has the largest population of loyalists in Panem and we need soldiers there."

Coin looks at her carefully, musing over her words. "…I understand, Cornelius, but we have to ensure that the Capitol is under our full control before we split our army. Making such a rash move right now could spell disaster to our cause."

Sil doesn't want to hear this. She wants action. She wants to get something done. She's not used to sitting back and letting other people take the reins – she's much more accustomed to manipulating events in her favor. It's what she's been doing for the past seven years, after all.

But she also knows that Coin isn't going to budge. She can tell just from looking at the stern expression that colors the woman's eyes that she isn't about to break her army for Sil's benefit. Sil understands Coin's perspective. From a tactical standpoint, she even agrees with her. But she can't shake the worry that invades her every time she thinks of her father in the middle of those riots. He doesn't deserve to become the target of her own legacy.

Perhaps, Sil thinks, she doesn't need Coin to assist her. She is quite used to going under cover and smuggling herself through security checks and across district borders. Maybe, if she can come up with an adequate plan by tonight, she can go save her father herself.

With this thought churning in her mind, Sil slowly murmurs, "…Very well. But I'm still going to send my agents to 1 and 2 the moment they're able to leave their posts."

Coin looks up at the stubborn tilt of Sil's expression and her mouth edges up just slightly. "I expected as much," she says calmly.

Sil lingers for half a second before sighing and making to leave, but Coin abruptly calls her back with a well placed, "Silver…I'd like you to be in full armor for Snow's execution. We've taken the liberty of having an outfit made for you. It's being brought to your room."

The sudden topic change seems so out of place that Sil pauses and turns back, unsure how to respond. After a long moment of hesitation, Sil wonders, "Have you set a date for the execution?"

Coin leans back and tells her, "The day after tomorrow. In the mean time, the other Victors will be arriving soon, and I'll be calling them all together for a meeting. I need to have a word with them all."

The way she refers to the Victors as 'them', not including Sil in their ranks, doesn't go over her head. For some inexplicable reason, it makes Sil distinctly uncomfortable, as if there is something darker at work here than she is outwardly being shown. Sil is very attuned to her own intuition, and right now, it's blaring at her – though what it's trying to say remains vague.

She slowly responds, "And am I allowed to know what you'd like to speak with us about?" She purposefully makes sure to include herself this time. Despite pretending to be removed from the ranks of her fellow Victors for years now in order to complete her mission, Sil is very much one of them. She has the same nightmares they all do, and the same reservations, though she has a stronger mask, at times, which she uses to hide these similarities away.

Coin just blinks at her. Perhaps it is the lighting, but those silver eyes seem to gleam with a darkness that Sil is surprised to see there. And, sitting in Snow's very own chair, in this office which has seen truly unforgivable acts in its years serving as Snow's headquarters, Alma Coin suddenly appears to be a mirror copy of the man Sil so detests. Shivers rush through her at the spark of understanding, and she stares at Coin as if she's seeing a truth that has evaded even her.

Whether Coin notices Sil's sudden change in demeanor or not, no recognition passes through her gaze. Instead, she just lifts her shoulders in a calm and almost nonchalant manner and tells the spy, "I am not blind to the help the Victors have given us these past few months. I intend on inviting them to give their opinions regarding certain policies that I am considering enacting. You'll hear more about it at the meeting. For now," she says, "focus on your healing."

Sil is at a loss, now, for the first time in ages. Something sinister plays beneath Coin's words – an unmarked, untold threat that makes something within Sil recoil. She cannot place what it is but she knows without a doubt of its presence, and like any good spy, she intends on getting to the bottom of it before it is too late.

So, painting on a smile that outwardly shows no sign of wariness or hesitation, Sil nods and trills out, "I think I shall do just that. I will keep you informed on my agent's positions in the meantime."

Coin nods agreeably, and Sil turns to take a quick leave. But as she whirls from the room in a sudden spell of dizzying earnest, she realizes that her last words were a lie. She will not keep Coin updated, for she feels an unexplainable but very familiar hunger driving forth from the woman she thought she had known. It is a hunger that she has seen many times in her life back in District 1, and many more times here in the Capitol.

Greed and avarice breed a startlingly potent craving for power, and with power there is sure to be corruption. The only question on Sil's mind now is what type of corruption – and what purpose will it serve?