A/N: As a writer, I don't think I've ever had a more frustrating chapter than this. Not because it was so difficult to write as such, even though I was trying to get the male side which I normally don't (practice makes perfect) but because once in Finnick's pov I wanted answers and wasn't getting them. I feel for him. I hate it when it seems like people talk around me, or know something that I need to know but won't tell me. It's highly annoying.

Anyway, as the story is just beginning to unfold I don't expect anyone to be raving about it (that would be arrogant) but I'd love it if someone just asked me a question or said hi so I know I'm not putting you to sleep.

On a personal note. As most of my loyal (for years because I try not to mention this often) readers will know, I have chronic migraines and surprisingly chronic lockjaw as well as a very weird life. So please have patience with me and I will keep hacking away at stories unless I am incapacitated for whatever reason, even if it takes me years. Hopefully not though.

Like, Subscribe, Favorite, Follow and Review, (and consider following or supporting on P-atreon and Ko-fi. Cause you know adulting.)

Much Love

JR

P.s. P-atreon and Ko-fi update: Why aren't there tiers and goals yet on either? Mainly because I'm trying to get used to writing regularly on them. I don't want to promise my patrons something and not be able to deliver. So I'm working on building slowly and getting my routine down, then I will be doing some patron-only content like polls for story design and personalized thank-yous and inspiration videos or packages that contain some of the things that inspire each story and other various things. So hang in there with me, I'm still learning, and sign up to follow me so that when the tiers and goals go live you'd be the first to know.

Chapter 2 Getting Some Answers and More Questions

When morning finally did come, the rain still hadn't let up but the lightning had stopped striking before nightfall the previous day, which explained why the girl had been out at midnight removing rods from the sand and placing small markers where they had been. If it started up again the last thing she wanted was for new strikes to ruin what the previous ones had made. Or some such thing. Either way, it was safe enough for Finnick to make his way back up to his house if he chose.

"Will you be here later?" He asked looking out at the rain that, if anything, was coming down harder than it had been the day before.

She was currently sitting on the rolled up blanket, sipping some strongly scented drink that steamed happily, warming her chilled hands. "I still have to dig up my glass." She whispered, her eyes fluttering in pleasure at the strength of the drink.

"Can I come back?" Sure that the answer would be no or even that she would say she would be gone before he could get back, he was stunned when she only smiled that quiet enigmatic smile that he was getting used to seeing on her lips and she shrugged. "Will you be here?" Finnick tried again, wanting an actual answer.

"Told you." She murmured, taking another sip. "Still have to dig up my glass." Turning to leave, he almost missed when she turned and the floor creaked under her. "Hey, four." She said quietly. "Tell your mom hi."

It wasn't until he was back at the house they shared in the victor's village that he stopped to think about her parting greeting. It sounded like more than just a polite hello to a woman that she had never met. Packing a bag with food, water, and a few other things he would need for a few days until the girl left, maybe a few days after to camp at the shack, he kept thinking. And the more he thought, the odder it seemed. No one, as far as he knew, was on friendly terms with the Mariners. And civil was far too polite a term for the cold reception that most gave them. But she hadn't sounded hostile or anything short of kind.

Leaving the bag in the hall closet, he decided to make his way to the diner that his mother worked at. She wasn't supposed to be off for hours but the fishermen that normally stopped in for breakfast were already gone, so it should be relatively empty so they could talk for a minute.

He jogged through the rain, down the barren street that led into town. If the capital wanted to make sure that the victors were set apart from everyone else either as an example or a warning, although one could use the words interchangeably, they certainly did a bang-up job. No one dared come near the victor's village unless they had a specific reason, let alone build near it. His own mother nearly refused to live with him there.

Heading into town, he waved at the owner of the general store then further down along the dock he laughed at the wolf whistle from the owner of the fish market. Past stores and markets and people that he had known his entire life to the tiny diner that his mother worked at along the docks.

She was cleaning tables when he stopped before the lace curtained windows and waved to get her attention. Rolling her eyes that he didn't seem to have the sense to come in out of the rain, she waved him inside.

"What are you doing here?" She tutted like an angry bird as he came in. Brushing off the rain that beaded in his hair, like that could possibly dry him off after being soaked through. "And you were missing all last night. Where were you? In that terrible storm too. Tell me you weren't out on the beach in that lightning." She said without taking a breath. Stormsa Odair had many talents, none of which were letting people get a word in if she wanted to have her say.

Catching her work-worn hands as she reached his collar, Finnick pulled them down to his chest and held them until she looked into his eyes, a puzzled frown clouding her face. "Mom, can we talk for a minute?"

Studying him silently for a moment, she led him to the walk-in refrigerator and shut the door behind them even as she wrapped her son in one of the insulating blankets that was stacked in the corner for transferring fish from the boats to the freezer during the height of summer. Making sure the door was closed, she turned and pressed her back against it. "Something happened?" She asked in that way all mothers have that was not in any way a question but a statement that she just wanted to know if her child was going to lie to her.

He nodded, head sinking to his chest. "A lot of things."

"Well?"

For a moment, she watched his jaw clench and release over and over as he tired to decide which thing to begin with first. Then settling on one, he looked up at her, his sea green eyes were a storm of emotion. "Why would a Mariner girl ask me to tell you hi? Do you know them?"

Of all the things that he could have asked, that was definitely not the one she had thought he would begin with. "Was she about shoulder high to you? Dark brown almost black hair and bright blew eyes?" When he nodded, she almost sagged against the door in relief. "Scars on her arm that look like a shark tried to take a bite out of her?" Again he nodded, and this time she did slide several inches against the door before her legs caught her. "When she didn't come this year I was so worried that she got picked up by peacekeepers."

"You know her?" Finnick asked. And then as her words processed, he blinked in a double take. "This year? She comes every year?"

"Your father saved a young Mariner boy." Stormsa began, her brow furrowing in thought. "You were ten at the time." She smiled thinking back to the young Finnick who used to stare out at the ocean like he lost something every once in a while before he would tear off down to the shallows and go clamming or crabbing with his friends. He had been like a fish in the water, still was in some ways. But the joy had died in his eyes even before he went into the arena.

"Afterward, the boy's father pledged a life debt to yours." She smiled. "And when your father died, he and his wife came that year and said that even though he had died the life debt wasn't over and they would be checking up on us. They even offered to take us away, let us live with the mariners but…" Her jaw dropped as she tried to verbalize the decision that she had made, why she had made it. "At the time I just couldn't leave. I was too numb to think straight. But then your name was called at the reaping and you were gone before I could contact them to get us away."

Taking a deep breath, Stormsa ran a hand over her golden hair in frustration. "That girl showed up that year the night you went into the arena. She was out of breath and looked like she had gone through hell to sneak past the peacekeepers that were guarding the house. I'll never know how she did it. And that night while I cried myself to sleep, she held me. I could barely eat while you were in the arena but she made sure I had food and even fed me at one point. She disappeared every time the interviewer came by and somehow they never knew she was there."

"She was worse than a damn cat." Stormsa snorted. "Or better depending on your point of view. Since then every time you head into the capitol, she stops by to see if I'm okay, make sure I'm eating, see if I want to leave."

"Why don't you?"

Blinking, his mother turned golden eyes to him, a puzzled frown drawing her eyebrows together. "I don't know what Snow is forcing you to do in the capital. But I know you need someone here at home to keep you sane. Mags is a treasure, but she isn't your mother. And I couldn't do anything to protect you during the games and I can't protect you from snow, but I can be your mother for as long as I'm able." Pressing her lips together tightly, she frowned. "No matter the risks."

"Even if he kills you as a lesson to me?" Her son asked, his eyes dark and fathomless as he pinned her to the door with a look.

She didn't even hesitate before a determined snarl twisted her bow-shaped lips. "My son or myself? I choose my son."

"And if he turns me into a whore?"

Never one to turn from a storm, the woman named after one ground her teeth together. "Is that what he's doing to you?" Over the course of his entire life, Finnick had seen many emotions from his mother. But this was a new one. This was fury the likes of which he had only seen during a hurricane. "That's it. You're going with the Mariners. Now. Today." Stormsa growled, pacing as her mind whirred with plans and possibilities. "We'll be out of here by nightfall. If she's here then she won't be gone for a day or two."

"You're leaving." He corrected and quickly held up a hand to silence her argument, a mirror of his father that she knew all too well. His father had been a quiet man, never raised his voice let alone a hand to her but when he held up a hand it was his sign that he needed her to be silent and listen. Unlike a single finger, which meant he needed her to wait a moment. His father was more action than words, but when he spoke, you generally needed to listen. And after having grown up with the man, she had learned to read him well. It certainly helped in learning how to read their son. "I want you out of here. It's one less piece for Snow to play and I won't get distracted by you."

Again she tried to talk but the hand stayed up and dammit if the reaction to it wasn't instinctual after all these years. Thank goodness it didn't work with anyone but her husband or Finnick. "I have a plan. If Snow is doing this to me there have to be others. And if there are others there has to be someone fighting to bring him down. I'm going to look for them. I'm going to learn every secret I can and find a way to use them. But I have to be able to do that without worrying about what I do blowing back on you. As a victor, Mags can't leave. She's in the spotlight too much. I'll try to get Annie out later but I can't get you both out at once without it looking suspicious."

Stormsa didn't like this plan one bit. She understood it, but she didn't like it. Swallowing down her anger, she tried to look at the options as her son was. He wasn't an unintelligent man. Looking down at the concrete floor, she pursed her lips for a minute before she looked back up at him. "It can't be too soon after you make the deal with Snow. He'll be watching you like a hawk at first for any inconsistencies, anything out of place, any suspicion." She nodded. "We'll go to talk to the Mariners tonight. Lay out your plan. If anyone knows who to talk to about any rebellions, it's them."

Blinking in surprise at her sudden shift, Finnick shook his head slowly. "Aren't they just like gypsies?" He asked, referencing the old legends of peoples long gone that used to travel from place to place, no fixed home.

"Not quite." She chuckled. "That's what I thought too at first." Then she shook her golden head, the creases that worry had left on her face turning into quiet mirth. Worry was still there, floating in the miasma of her emotions. But with or without her help, he was going to do as he intended. And if she could make him a little safer, then come hell or high storm surges, she was never going to abandon her son. "I know I can't stop you, but let me help as much as I can, even if that's only talking to the Mariners with you. Maybe they can get you in contact with someone, get you backup so you aren't alone."

Shivering as the cold nipped at his ears, Finnick agreed silently. While he didn't like the idea of working with someone. Partnerships didn't exactly work out for him in the past, what with his district partner trying to kill him. But he understood that he had a better chance of success, maybe not survival but success, with a partner. "Alright." He breathed. "But you're out of the district as soon as it can be arranged."

When he left, he had almost no more answers than he did before but quite a few more questions. But as he stopped at the fish market and the general store he had no more hope of putting the pieces together as he did before, and that was an exceedingly uncomfortable feeling.

When the door to his house closed behind him, he reached for the bag in the hall only to stop. There was no sound, no smell, nothing at all out of the ordinary that told him something was wrong. But he knew something was different. Silently padding through the house on bare feet, he searched through each room. Nothing at all was different. His mother's netted shell curtains still clinked gently in the breeze that swept through the open windows under the wide porch.

And a single piece of sea glass rested on his bedside table. Not just any piece of sea glass though. A small blue green piece of glass the size of a pearl with a tiny nick in the shape of an eyelash. It was the piece that R'an had given him years ago. He had kept it in a small box filled with shells and other glass and small bits of driftwood in odd shapes like animals and boats that he had played with as a child. He had hoped to play with them when he had a child as his father had him. Nothing in that box would mean anything to anyone but himself and his mother. But the glass? That did mean something to someone else.

R'an. And the girl on the beach. Who he had told.

Picking it up, Finnick cursed silently and slid it into his pocket before jobbing to the bag and out onto the beach.

The shack was empty of all but the girl's small pack and the brazier which stood ready with kindling already mounded beneath small driftwood sticks. And he breathed a sigh of relief. She was planning on coming back. No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he heard the light tread of footsteps coming up behind him.

Spinning to face the stairs, he blinked at the smiling female dumbly. "I didn't think you would be here."

She smiled, lifting a net full of angrily snapping crabs. "Was checking my traps. Feel like crab for dinner?"

Watching her shift uncomfortably under his gaze, Finnick realized that he had been staring for some time and the already soaked girl was still standing out in the rain. "Sorry." Jumping aside, he held the door open. "Want me to start boiling water?"

She rolled her eyes and headed around the back side of the shack only to come back a few moments later with a bucket that had a tight lid. Oh thank goodness. Scuttling crabs, they tended to get everywhere. He shuddered remembering that painful story.

"Why don't we have some tea and you can tell me about your day?" She chuckled, looking at his face. So they sat and while she brewed and handed him a cup of the strongest brew he had ever tasted, he stared at her. "Stare at me much longer and I'm gonna ask for a receipt. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?" She murmured with a calming quiet grin.

"You never said you take care of my mother when I'm gone." He murmured, turning his attention to the steaming mug in his hand.

She only shrugged. "Didn't see the point."

"So you're doing it out of the kindness of your heart?" He pressed, anger filling his tones by her just brushing it off. Why did he never seem to be able to get a straight answer from her? Why did he just accept what she said without pushing for more even when he wanted to?

"Yes and no." She admitted on a shrug, sipping her own bowl of brew. "Life debt at first. But I like your mom. She's good people. So when Uncle Triton asked me to keep an eye on her? Was an easy decision. Dodging peacekeepers?" She snorted, a dangerous smile creeping across her pink lips showing just a hint of her white teeth beneath, reminding him of a shark gliding through the waters. "I do that for fun."

Deciding a change of topic might be his best tactic, he cleared his throat. "Were you in my house?"

Taking a moment to sip on the steaming drink in her hand, she spun to face him before answering. "Yes."

"Why?"

The shark like smile didn't shrink one iota. "Checking how tight your surveillance is. When you're gone there's not much at your house." Taking another swallow, she watched him intently. "When you're home it's different. I'd be careful what you do in your house if I were you."

She could see the warring in his eyes, his shoulders, the set of his jaw. He wanted to explode like any teenager would when they thought they didn't have any privacy, but he didn't. He experienced the rage and then breathed it out, the anger turning to power and determination but not recklessness. Which she approved of. It would serve him well if he took Snow's offer.

"I'm going to fight him." He finally told her. True to what he had observed so far, she didn't react other than to take another sip of her drink. "I'm going to spy on the capital, on Snow." Again she took a drink from her bowl, simply staring at him. "But I need help." When she only sipped at her drink again, he honestly felt himself beginning to loose his patience. "Mom said that the Mariners would know who I need to get into contact with."

"We may." She finally said, setting the bowl down with exaggerated care. "The chieftain will be here by nightfall to help me with the glass. So will the wise woman from my ship. She wanted to check on your mother too." He watched her jaw work as she seemed to be considering what she said next. "But you may not like what they have to say. Because unless we owe a life debt, there is only one group of people we help and protect without a reason. And our life debt is owed to your mother. Not you. No transfers unless she dies."

Looking out to the churning ocean as he considered her words, Finnick tried to sort through what she was saying. "I want her out of here either way."

The girl nodded. "That we will do no questions. But I can tell you now that the chieftain will not approve that until Snow relaxes his watch on you a bit. If she disappears right before you make your deal with him, he will be suspicious and act preemptively. Too soon after and he will punish you just to be on the safe side."

"You can't know that." He snapped, setting his mug down with a clatter. "He might not notice."

Snorting derisively, she rolled her eyes. "We dodge boarder patrols and take these risks every day. You don't. We have learned to watch Snow over decades. You haven't even begun. Do not ask for help and then slap the advice away with both hands before you gotten the benefit of it." She counseled calmly, her old way of speaking foreign to his ears leaving hims feeling like he was in a muddle.

"Who would you protect without question?" He finally breathed, letting his frustration hiss away like the waves retreating from the sands.

"Family."

"Not friends?"

"We don't have people who are just friends." She replied flatly. "We have treaties. We have family. We have allies. We have life debts. There is no middle ground."

"How does someone become family?" The only answer he received was a blank stare that almost glowed eerily in the gloom of the grey filled storm sky. As if the answer should be self-evident and he was an idiot. Maybe he was, he decided.

"Do not lose your temper with the chieftain or the wise woman." She murmured, moving to end the crackling fire. "You will only lose badly needed respect. Especially if you want to bargain for R'an and become family."

Shocked, he just blinked at the idea. Bargain for R'an Marin? He could only assume by her words that she was talking about marrying R'an. Was it even possible? He was a Victor and couldn't be with her on the water the way she lived now. And he'd never ask her to come to the land, it was too dangerous. Especially now. But once the idea was planted, he couldn't have rooted it out with a shovel and a torch. The idea that he could spend his first time with his wife? Before he had to break principles that were so ingrained in him that it nearly made him sick even to consider it?

He wanted that more than anything he had ever wanted anything in his young life.