A/N: Short chapter. As always criticism is welcome as long as it is constructive.
(also I need a chapter title? any ideas?)
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fifth Hunger Games begin!" The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the Hunger Games announcer, hammers my ears. A minute. 60 seconds to get familiar with this new environment. To find Finnick. To find 12 and Jo. To make a plan. A minute left until chaos.
Bluewater surrounds me. A Pink sky above. White-hot sun searing down.
The Cornucopia, 45 yards away. This year it's a shiny gold horn. An island.
No, there are thin strips of land radiating from it, like a wheel. Equal distance from one another. Between each strip lies two tributes and the water. So there are 12 strips of land connected to the cornucopia with two tributes balanced on metal plates between them. There are no boats, no ropes, not even a bit of driftwood to cling to. No, there's only one way to get to the Cornucopia. To my left the male drunkard from 5 stands. To my right, Enobaria. That might be a problem.
5 tributes over is Katniss. She is sharing a chunk of the sea with Woof. Good. She catches some water and is smelling it. Her eyes tracking the tributes, no doubt searching for Peeta. He is to my left somewhere.
Finnick. Where is he?
I'll meet him at the cornucopia. We'll be the first to get there.
The gong sounds and I throw myself into the salty seawater. Its waves have gotten larger in response to the games starting. The gamemakers want more of a struggle. My body is light, cutting through the water. It takes no time at all to get to the strip. A few strokes and I am there, pulling myself up onto the little strip of land. I spare a quick glance, Enobaria is a safe distance behind me. Good.
Dashing across the sandy stretch, I make my way to the Cornucopia. This arena was made for me.
Weapons littered the mouth. Pilled high, filling the 20-foot high mouth. There is a spear calling my name.
A slight shift of sand. A shadow to my left. A threat. They're close.
I grab a knife from the box in front of me, pushing the tribute back. The knife makes its rightful place at their throat. Thankfully I recognize the face before I could put pressure on it.
"God. Finnick! What are you doing? Maybe make sure I know it's you"
He is standing there with his dumbass smirk and his stupid hair sticking up. A trident in his right and a net in his left. Gorgeous and dripping wet.
"next time"
I give no response at that. Reaching for the spear- it is dual-ended and deadly. And strapping a pack of throwing knives to my chest, a dagger to my thigh. "You good to go for Katniss?" I know how that will sound to the viewers. A nod in assurance from Finnick, "-okay, stick around here, she was swimming pretty well. Look for more stuff too"
A quick nod and I am off to find Peeta.
Katniss POV
I heave myself up, dripping, onto the land strip and sprint down the sandy stretch for the Cornucopia. I can see no one else converging from my side, although the gold horn limits a good portion of my view; it's blocking Peeta. I don't let the thought of adversaries slow me down, though. I'm thinking like a Career now, and the first thing I want is to secure a weapon. My eager eyes instantly home in on a golden bow just in arm's reach and I yank it free.
There is someone already here, though. I promptly pull an arrow from the sheath that's still wedged in the pile and arm my bow as I turn. Finnick, glistening and gorgeous, stands a few yards away, with a trident poised to attack. A net dangles from his other hand. He's smiling a little, but the muscles in his upper body are rigid in anticipation. "You can swim, too," he says. "Where did you learn that in District Twelve?", with an arch of his brow.
"We have a big bathtub," I answer doggedly.
"You must," he says. "You like the arena?"
"Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you and Maria." I say with a visible edge of bitterness. It seems like it, anyway, with all the water, when I bet only a handful of the victors can swim. And there was no pool in the Training Center, no chance to learn. Either you came in here a swimmer or had better be a really fast learner. Even participation in the initial bloodbath depends on being able to cover twenty yards of water. That naturally gives District 4 an enormous advantage. For a breathless moment, we're frozen, sizing each other up, our weapons, our skill.
It is Finnick who shatters the silence. Grinning wryly, "Lucky thing we're allies. Right?".
I'm about to let my arrow fly, hoping it strikes his heart before his trident impales me when he shifts his hand and something on his wrist catches the sunlight. A solid-gold bangle patterned with flames. The same one I remember on Haymitch's wrist. As an unmistakable signal to me. An order, really. To trust Finnick. I can hear other footsteps carefully approaching. I have to decide now.
"Right!" I snap because even though Haymitch is my mentor and trying to keep me alive, this infuriates me. Why didn't he tell me he'd made this arrangement before? Probably because Peeta and I had ruled out allies. Now Haymitch has unanimously chosen one on his own.
"Duck!" Finnick commands in such a powerful voice, so different from his typical seductive purr, that I do. I drop, and his trident goes whizzing over my head and there's a sickening squish of impact as it finds its intended target. The man from District 5, the drunk who threw up on the sword fighting floor, sinks to his knees as Finnick frees the trident from his chest.
"Don't trust One and Two," Finnick says. There is not enough time to dispute this. I work the sheath of arrows free.
"Each take a side?" I say. He nods affirmatively, and I dart around the pile. Enobaria and Gloss are only just reaching land. Either they're slow swimmers or they thought the water might be laced with other dangers, which it might well be. Sometimes it's not good to consider too many scenarios. But now that they're on the burning sand, they'll be here in a matter of seconds.
"Anything useful?" I hear Finnick shout. I rapidly scan the pile on my side and find maces, swords, bows and arrows, tridents, knives, spears, axes, metallic objects I have no name for ... and nothing else.
"Weapons!" I call back. "Nothing but weapons!"
"Same here," he confirms. "Grab what you want and let's go!"
I launch an arrow at Enobaria, who's gotten in too close for comfort, but she's expecting it and dives back into the water before it can find its mark. Gloss isn't quite as swift, and I sink an arrow into his calf as he plunges into the waves. I sling a spare bow, and a second sheath of arrows over my body, slide two long knives and an awl into my belt, and meet up with Finnick at the front of the pile.
"Do something about that, would you?" he says. I see Brutus barreling toward us. His belt is unfastened and he has it stretched between his hands as a kind of shield. I shoot at him, and he manages to block the arrow with his belt before it can skewer his liver. Where it punctures the belt, a purple liquid spews forth, coating his face. As I reload, Brutus flattens on the ground, rolls the few feet to the raging water, and submerges. There's a harsh clang of metal falling behind me.
"Let's clear out," I say to Finnick. This last altercation has given Enobaria and Gloss time to reach the Cornucopia. Brutus is within shooting distance and somewhere, certainly, Cashmere is nearby, too. These four classic Careers will no doubt have a prior alliance. If I had only my own safety to consider, I might be willing to take them on with Finnick by my side. But Peeta…
Peeta is stranded on his disk. To the right of him is a tribute from 9. I quickly dart down the strip of land closest to him, thrust my spear into the ground, and dive into the water. My hands part the waves as I kick my way over to him. It only took a couple of strokes to reach him. Once I reach his disk I finally look up at him. He looks at me wearily.
"Finnick is watching your other half now. You coming?"
I try to convey what I could through my tone and eyes. It seems to work because he gets into the water and I can tow him to the land strip. I wrap an arm across his chest, "Don't say anything to Katniss, she might get jealous". Of course, I am joking. I doubt she would be jealous when I am saving his life, or at the very least delivering him to her. I pull myself up and walked back over to the wicked spear. I get to call it mine. I yank it out of the ground and turn to Peeta. Handing over the few knives I grabbed for him.
"4 and 12 is an interesting paring… Of course, I talked to Haymitch that first night about allying, but I was skeptical Katniss would agree. Especially with her disdain for Finnick".
Peeta looked a little more relaxed with me now that he had a knife in his hand. "Katniss…" he looked a little sheepish, and ran a hand through his hair, "-she can be hard to please. She's just a little guarded and Finnick is very…"
"Eccentric?" I finish his thought.
"Yeah"
Finnick and Katniss are on their way over to us. Both their weapons up, ready to use. No one seems to be following them from the Cornucopia. Gloss, Cashmere, Enobaria, and Brutus have gathered, their pack formed already, picking over the weapons. A quick survey of the rest of the arena shows that most of the tributes are still trapped on their plates.
Peeta breaks me out of my train of thought, "Hello, again," he leans over and d gives Katniss a kiss. Continuing saying, "We've got allies."
Finnick and I reunite giving each other a brief hug before separating. I want to hold on longer but now isn't the time. He gazed across the little island where the cornucopia and the victors are. "The belts. They're flotation devices. I noticed them earlier".
Pointing towards Beetee. He is currently flailing around in the waves, but managing to keep his head above water. I almost to wait and get Beetee and Wiress so we can take them with us. But Beetee is 6 panels over, and I can't even see Wiress. I don't really know 12's thoughts on them. I know we need Beetee alive, but 7 is supposed to get them, otherwise, Katniss will never agree to ally with them. Blight is making his way towards them.
I look to the Cornucopia. Gloss and Cashmere are there picking over the weapons. They are allied with 2, forming a Career pack. I need to remember that isn't my Gloss. That is not the soft-spoken friend. That is a Career. A killer. Someone who won't think for a second over whether to kill me.
"We should move on"
A/N: thanks for all the favs and follows!