The Lady of the Lake
Man did this chapter end up being longer than I meant it to!
Finnick demanded attention. Cato demanded attention...man.
Thank you to It's-A-Passion and IamCharliedaughterofPoseidon for reviewing Chapter 5 and Thank you to returning reviewers Sugarpearl, Obsidianwind, Emma Lane and Reviewer08!
This chapter features the ongoing wisdom of Finnick Odair, who is much more than just a pretty face. It also features the interviews and Darrien being charming. And finally it features Sky and Cato...who are starting to realise they push each others buttons.
Chapter 6
"The interview," Finnick waves his hand expansively, and puts on a fake Capitol accent that sounds remarkably like Flora at her most imperious, "is of vital importance."
"Would you stop that?" I grin at his ridiculousness and chuck a pillow in his direction, "This is serious."
The interview, hosted by Caesar Flickerman, is one of the yearly features of the Hunger Games. It involves a 3 minute interview with each of us, in which we promote ourselves to the Capitol sponsors. It's a chance to show ourselves off, to ingratiate ourselves and make ourselves seen and remembered.
Today is a day to relax and to be coached by our mentors, to learn how to be our most engaging and memorable, so the Capitol doesn't overlook us. Mags took Darrien, into another room, and Finnick whisked me into his room, sitting me down in a chair.
"I think some Districts make the mistake of trying to overcoach this." Finnick comments, leaning back in his seat, "Some people just do better on stage than others, and sometimes it's really difficult to pick who will shine."
"Peeta will," I comment quietly, thinking of the boy from 12's easy charm and confidence, "He has a way with people. Kind of like you except without the…sexual innuendo."
"You wound me." Finnick drawls, lounging in his seat, "You really do Sky. Still…if you think he's going to do well…we need you to be extra memorable."
I tilt my head towards him questioningly.
"He will be the last Tribute on that stage." Finnick rubs his face, "It's the only real advantage District 12 gets in this whole process, and they rarely use it. The Capitol citizens are like cushions Sky, impressed by the last behind that sits on them."
The description of the ridiculous people of the Capitol makes me laugh because I know it's totally accurate.
"So I need to make a lasting impression that Peeta can't overshadow?"
"Ideally," he nods, "We can't plan for that though. 12 has surprised us every single step of these Games and I doubt they're going to stop now. I'm not planning on underestimating them."
"So, what's the plan Finnick?" I ask him, smiling slightly, "You always have a plan."
"That I do." He sits forward, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm pretty sure I know what tactics the Careers will employ. Glimmer will be flirty, pouty, the blonde sex kitten from the Capitol's pet district. It'll work for her. Marvel," he pauses, "He's got personality, enthusiasm. They know he's deadly, so he'll smack them with charisma. The two from 2." He chuckles dryly, "They'll go for clinical, arrogant killers. It works for their District every year; I doubt they'll change it now."
"What about 3?" I ask, curious.
"I doubt they will be memorable." He shakes his head, "Still, there is always a chance we'll be surprised."
"And then us…"
"You'll be first," he nods, "Now, Caesar always gets inside information, from the Gamemakers and the Tribute's Mentors, meaning me." He places a spread hand over his heart and I roll my eyes at his flair for the dramatic, "I'll share with him our angle, the Lady of the Lake…I've shared it with the Gamemakers as well…they like adding twists to make things more dramatic, so they'll play off something like that, which is to our advantage."
"Or they could use it against me."
"I doubt that." He shakes his head, "District 4 isn't like 1 or 2, but we're still more favoured by the Capitol than the other poor bastards. And you've got something the others lack."
My eyebrows go up and Finnick grins slightly.
"You're a performer."
I shake my head at him, "And where did you get that crackbrained idea Finnick Odair?"
"I saw you," He smirks at me, "Out there with the press at the station…you come alive in front of the cameras. We need to maximise those talents."
"So, what do you want me to do?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.
"Be yourself." Finnick smirks at the look I give him, "No I really mean it. The Capitol will embrace you if you're relaxed and show them who you really are."
"I'm just an archivist in the wrong place Finnick…" I say softly, "No one actually thinks I'm coming out of these games. The six just confirms it."
"So you're not a ruthless killer," Finnick stands and crosses the room to perch on the coffee table, tugging my chair between his legs, "This isn't a game about who's the better killer."
"How is it not?" I exclaim with a choked laugh, "The whole thing is about killing."
"No. See that's the mistake everyone makes." He takes my hands in his, "The Game is about being the last one standing. And yeah being able to sweep everyone else out of the way helps you get there, but in the end…if you don't last til the end…what good does having the highest kill count do?"
"No good." I reply softly and he presses a kiss to my two hands.
"That's my girl. Don't doubt yourself sweetness, Tributes have won, with far less going for them than you do."
"If I win it means Darrien dies." I say, and the words fall like rocks into a still pond. We've all been ignoring this reality, pretending like we can get both of us out of the Arena.
"Yes." Finnick's voice was low, and for once completely grave, "And that is why I am focusing on you and Mags is focusing on Darrien. We are giving you the best chance we can…but I can't get too attached to him…you are my concern, just as he is hers."
"I don't want him to die." I whisper, my hands clenching in his, "He doesn't deserve that…"
"I know…" he sighs unhappily, "But neither do you." One of his hands reaches out and cups my cheek, stroking it gently, "I've been mentoring Tributes for eight years Sky, and District 4 has only won twice in that time. I've seen 16 kids from my district, 16 kids who didn't deserve this, go into their Arenas. Only 2 of them ever came out. The others I had to watch die…unable to help them."
My eyes fill with tears, and I suck in a choked breath, "You could have chosen Darrien, you should have chosen him…"
"No." He tugs me in so our foreheads are together, "I was at the Reapings. So was Mags. I always wanted to be your mentor. And Mags…Darrien reminds her of her grandson. She always wanted him."
"But…I'll be another Tribute you have to watch get killed." My voice trembles on the words.
"I don't believe that." Finnick murmurs, holding me close, "I'm going to do everything, everything in my power, to bring you home. Just don't give up on me yeah?" he pulls back and shakes my shoulders gently; "I know there is a bit of fire in you."
"I won't give up." I promise him, and smile as he kisses my forehead.
Its strange, a week or so ago I was an only child, bound to my books, living a quiet life in District 4. Now…now I'm a Tribute in the Hunger Games, with two men that have become like brothers to me. If I survive this…it means I'll lose one of them. But at least I'll have Finnick.
I don't want to die.
Finnick gives me the rest of the day to myself, so I decide to hunt down something to read.
Eventually I ask an avox and she disappears somewhere, returning a little while later with a small pile of books.
One of them is a collection of Arthurian legends, tales from long before Panem was formed, and I scoop it up, my hands cradling the heavy tome. I thank the avox quietly and head to the elevator, taking it up to the 12th floor.
Finnick was the one to tell me about the roof, suggesting that I head up there for some sunshine, fresh air and relaxation. Even though I spent my days in the Archives back home, I still spend the hours I can outside. We're a District of sun, of warmth, of bare feet on soft sand, the smell of salt in the air. Being inside for the last 3 days or so has been taxing.
I glance briefly at the door to the District 12 apartments and push open the other door, which opens up to some stairs, leading up to the roof's dome. Stepping out into the sunshine, breathing in the sweet fresh air, I feel something inside me settle. Maybe I will be alright in the arena, as long as it wasn't enclosed.
Walking over to the garden built off to the side, I smile, sighing with pleasure as I kick off my shoes, padding onto the soft grass. It's gentler than the grass from District 4, which is tough and hardy and adaptive to the salty air and sandy earth. This is soft grass, watered regularly, and given rich dark earth to grow in.
With a smile I lay down on the grass, looking up at the sky for a moment before rolling over and opening my book.
The legends of the Lady of the Lake were Arthurian; refreshing my memory probably wouldn't hurt my case.
I don't know how long I read, the pages seem to fly by, the words soaking into my mind, until suddenly a voice breaks into my contented sphere.
"Well, well, look who we have here."
I look up in shock, to see a pair of legs standing nearby. Twisting, I look up, and up, to see Cato silhouetted against the pale blue sky, arms folded and arrogant eyebrow arched.
"Oh, it's you. Hi 2." I say, acting nonchalant, even as my heart starts to thunder in my chest. I turn back to the book lying before me, but suddenly the words are a little harder to read.
Our paths haven't crossed since our second altercation, and I'd been hoping to keep up my streak for a little longer than this, hopefully until late into the Arena. I hear his footsteps walk closer and I fight not to look around or tense up.
"What are you doing 4?" A large hand suddenly appears in my periphery and I flinch, even as my hands grab at the book he whisks out of my grasp.
"Hey!" I sit up, pushing my hair back off my face with irritation, scowling at him, "Give that back you ass!"
He just smirks at me and considers the book in his hands.
"Arthurian legends?" he looks at me with a raised eyebrow, "That's going to help you in the Arena for sure."
"Not everything is about the Arena." I answer back, standing and reaching for my book, "Now if you please, I would like to continue my reading in peace."
"Why are you even reading this garbage?" he dangles the book out of reach just to be annoying. With his height advantage I know getting the book back will be close to impossible if he chooses to be an ass and keep it just so I can't have it. I glare at him and fold my arms.
"It is not garbage." I retort back, annoyed that he had ruined the peace I had so painstakingly acquired, "They're beautiful stories."
"Fantasy." He snorts dismissively, "Stories about magic and dragons and the like. You think a knight in shining armour is going to rescue you in the arena 4?"
"Of course not." I scoff at him, irritated, "But it is nice to read about a time when chivalry existed. Some people don't seem to have even heard of the concept these days."
It's a pointed comment and he laughs nastily.
"Oh sweetheart, do you want me to gallantly escort you somewhere? Maybe give you a bow before I kill you in the Arena? How about a kiss before I gut your district partner in front of you?"
My face pales at his words and I glare at him once more.
"You are repulsive."
"That hurts me little fish." He chuckles as I move towards the edge of the garden before an arm snakes out and yanks me back. He steadies me against him, and once again I am overwhelmed by the sheer physicality of him, "It's simply a truth you're going to have to get used to. You're going to die…and I'm going to be the Victor."
"I don't think so." I whisper, my eyes darting towards the door to the roof, "Darrien could win. I could win."
"You?" he scoffs and I flinch slightly as he leans in, breath brushing against my cheek, "You're mine little fish, and once the numbers are down I'll be hunting you down. And no one, not Marvel, or your little Darrien, will be able to stop me finding you."
"If I'm so useless," I breathe, my hand clenching into a fist beside me, "Why make such an effort? Why do you to want to hunt me down so badly? Are you threatened by me 2?"
"You?" He barks a laugh again, "Don't make me laugh sweetheart."
"Then why bother?" My eyes meet his, and he stares at me intensely, "Maybe you're the one afraid…"
A smirk curls up his lips, and suddenly I find myself slammed up against one of the ornamental trees in the garden, trapped there between it and Cato's overwhelming bulk. My eyes shoot up to his face and he chuckles, a low, deep dangerous laugh.
"Some animals belong in a cage." He says softly, his hand caressing my cheek in a parody of a tender caress, "Maybe I just like the way you look, all helpless like this."
"Answer the question 2."
"And why should I?" he drawls back, blue eyes amused.
My heart is thrumming in my chest, confusion, fear…and then something like cool, clarity trickles through me.
I relax against him, something he isn't prepared for, and one of my arms curl up about his neck. Take him by surprise, I think, and beat feet out of there.
The voice in my head sounds like Finnick, wonderful.
"Cato…" I breathe, leaning into him. His eyes light up, a hungry anticipation in them, and his arms move, no longer entrapping, but encircling, "I…"
Now I'm acting like Finnick too!
"Schuyler…" his breath brushes against my neck, making my eyes want to drift closed, but I have to be focused on my task. Slowly my fingers find the book in his hand, now held loosely as his attention shifts to my body melding pliantly against his.
For a moment I hesitate, intoxicated by the feeling of being held against his strong body, the sensation of one of those large, capable hands holding my waist. In that moment his lips softly touch the soft, vulnerable skin of my neck, and I realise just how much I want to stay where I am.
It frightens me. He frightens me. And excites me.
In one swift move I shove him away, snatching the book from him as I tumble away from him, scrambling up and dashing from the garden.
"You'll pay for that 4!" I hear him shout as the door shuts behind me and I suck in a shuddering breath before bolting downstairs.
I have to find Finnick.
"Darling, you need to relax."
Finnick watches me as I pace around my bedroom after supper, an eyebrow raised.
"How can I relax?" I ask him, flailing my hands around, "One of the scariest Tributes in the games said, 'You'll pay for that 4!'. How can I possibly relax?!"
Finnick gives me a look, it's a fond but exasperated look and he pats the bed next to him. I slide beside him, huffing softly.
"This is a good thing."
I look at him like he's crazy, "Have you lost your mind?" I ask hoarsely, "Cato said 'you'll pay for that 4' and you're telling me it's a good thing?"
"Stop focusing on that." He faces me, "The most telling thing about that little interlude the two of you had, was how he reacted to you seemingly…submitting to him."
I just look at him and he rolls his eyes.
"He had you in his arms, and suddenly, you aren't 4 anymore… you're Schuyler."
I remember the feel of his breath over my neck and the way he growled my name. I shiver, prickles of heat dancing over my skin.
"He finds you attractive." Finnick murmurs, sea green eyes on mine, "I wondered if it was just because of the costume in the parade, I mean you are lovely to look at but…that costume…any guy would have looked. But he corners you in the Training centre, he uses every single confrontation to bring you close to him, to try and…dominate you."
"You said it before…he loves control."
"Mmmm…" he looks at me, lips pursed thoughtfully, "We can use this Sky."
"What? Him having a thing for control?"
"Him having a thing for wanting to control you." Finnick leans in, "Don't you see, if you two have moments like those in the Games. The Capitol will eat it up."
"In the Games he'll kill me."
"He'll save you for later…" he shakes his head, "He won't want you dead until you submit to him. And that…is his weakness. He's arrogant enough to believe the Game is already his. He gives you an opportunity love; you injure him, or get the hell away. Kill him if you can."
"I can't…" I shake my head and he nods.
"I know…" he inclines his head, "I know. Now…in the interviews…you'll likely get a question about your fellow Tributes. I want you to make some kind of comment about Cato…don't name him, just…something about someone exciting you, or getting under your skin. He won't resist a challenge…or a call like that."
"Finnick…"
"I know…" he cups my cheek, "Dangerous game love. We have to take risks…if he is protecting you…him and Darrien and Marvel…then you have a chance…a good chance of getting to the Feast…and the odds will turn to be in your favour."
I'm running through District 4, my feet bare, as I run from house to house, desperately looking for someone.
Someone has to be here.
Someone other than me.
Someone other than him.
He's hunting me, and I can feel my heart thundering in my chest as I dash from house to house, room to room.
I dart into my own home, calling for my parents and I hear the door slam behind me.
I whirl, and he is there, his eyes fixed on me.
Slowly he walks forward, as I back away.
"You cannot hide from me."
I try to scramble to the stairs but suddenly he is there, catching me about the waist and dragging me back.
Suddenly I am facing him, and his eyes, his eyes are burning with that light. He holds me against him, so strong I can't even imagine escaping and his voice rumbles across my skin.
"There is no where you could go, where I would not find you."
I look up at him, and he looks back, eyes dropping to my mouth and he leans in to kiss me.
"Schuyler."
I wake with a shuddering gasp.
All day Felvia and her team have been fussing over me, working on my long curls, smoothing ointments and lotions on my skin, brushing me with shimmering dusts.
I haven't been allowed to see myself, even as Felvia gets to work on slipping me into the actual fabric of her stylistic creation. Finally they are finished and step away. I don't open my eyes.
There is silence for long moments before Felvia says, "Open your eyes, my lady."
Slowly I open them, and gasp at the woman I see standing reflected in the mirror.
She's beautiful, but almost otherworldly at the same time, with huge green eyes, framed by dark eyelashes and smoky makeup which makes them appear even larger and brighter. Her hair is a tumble of soft golden brown curls, and held back from her face by a coronet of shimmering pale blue gems. They are woven throughout the long sleek curls, almost like droplets of water sitting on the hairs before melting into them.
But it is the gown that makes me truly awed.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, let alone worn, and whispers against my skin like the ripples of water against sand. It's a silver ivory colour, and seems to almost melt around me. The bodice is tight around my waist, and has more of those winking gems, and the skirt is made of material so light it floats as I move.
The entire effect is almost magical, I look like I am made from water droplets sparkling in the sun, and I realise some of the little gems scattered through the skirt are in fact tiny little lights.
I look like the Lady of the Lake, serene, beautiful and softly womanly. My skin shimmers softly, looking touchable and smooth and the swell of my breasts over the corseted bodice are unadorned. I need no fancy necklaces to draw attention to my figure in this dress.
Normally I am just a normal sized girl, fit yes, but just normal, but this dress makes me look like the fertile goddess of the waters, giving, and offering her bounty.
It was subtle, tasteful and made me feel confident.
I tilt my head slightly, and the affect is regal. So I turn and come face to face with Finnick, who is exchanging a surreptitious fistbump with Felvia.
"Love you look," he whistles and my cheeks flush slightly, "You look stunning. Felvia…you are a master."
"I had a good canvas this year." She winks at me and I smile.
"Oh sweetness, smile like that on stage and they will be putty in your hands."
I blush again and Felvia smacks Finnick on the arm.
"Stop that you great pudding, you'll make the poor thing embarrassed."
"What is it with you and Mags and hitting me?" Finnick says, rubbing his arm with mock hurt, "Seriously, did she give you permission or something?"
"I saw her do it, and I agree with her, you deserve it." Felvia walks forward and offers me a hand, "Come on then m'lady, time to meet your subjects."
"What if I…?" I ask Finnick, panic rising in my throat, "Finnick, what if I…"
"Shhh…" he takes my other hand as Felvia helps me down from my stand, "You are beautiful. And you will shine in front of all those people. And Cato will be staring like a loon. You can watch it on the replays later."
I laugh nervously, but let him escort me out of my bedroom, my bare feet whispering along the soft carpet. It grounds me having my feet bare, and Felvia sees it as a lovely juxtaposition, the elegant gown, with the earthiness of the bare feet.
Natural.
We walk backstage and I ignore the whispering as we join the Tributes.
"Wow…" Zara's little face is full of awe as Finnick steers me to the line, "Schuyler you look."
"You look beautiful." Darrien walks forward, the dark blue material of his suit shimmering like deep moving water as he moves. He walks forward and with a playful smile he gives me a courtly bow. I smile and sweep him a curtsey, "My lady."
"Good sir." I respond, cocking my head to the side and laughing as Zara sighs wistfully. I turn to her to give her a small smile and have to keep from wincing at her dress. It's clear that her stylist is still trying to play on the idea of the textiles district, because there are so many different materials making up her dress. It looks confused and a little sad, unremarkable, but she is smiling at me, and I don't have the heart to show how I feel about the look she has been given, "Zara, you look lovely."
"Thank you!" Her little face lights up, "Purple's my favourite colour, maybe Grippina knew that."
Darrien gently hooks my hand under his elbow, and tugs so I give Zara a small smile goodbye. As I walk down the line, I catch Teesa's eyes and she arches an eyebrow slightly.
Her outfit is a soft dress of light green, and she obviously looks uncomfortable in it. I give her a smile back and then Darrien pulls me into our place in the line.
The young boy from 3 is in front of me, and keeps fidgeting nervously. He eventually stops when Clove snaps at him, twisting around to comment from around Cato's bulk.
"Stand still or the instant I get a knife in my hands it's going in your skull." Her eyes then take in me in my dress and Darrien in his watery suit because she elbows Marvel and nudges Cato who are in front and behind her respectively, "Hello District 4."
Marvel's hazel green eyes look at me in my beautiful dress and then they slide to the side, looking at Darrien, with his suit and curling dark hair and blue eyes. My District partner looks good, I know he does, and I think so does Marvel, because he is staring.
Prickles dance along my skin and I hesitate before looking back along the line to meet Cato's intense blue eyes. He is looking at me, eyes slowly trailing along my body in the shimmering dress and then up, over my breasts to my face, where his gaze locks onto mine.
The breath seems to rush out of me, so transfixed am I by his gaze.
There is anger there, focus, determination…and lust.
It's an emotion I've never experienced directed at me before and my heart hammers wildly. His gaze drops slightly as he stares at my neck, soft, white, exposed, and my breath hitches as I wonder if he can see my pulse thrumming against my skin.
Eventually he looks away, but it feels like an eternity and the air returns to my lungs with a rush.
I glance at Darrien, but he and Marvel still seem to be giving each other the once…or maybe fourth by now…over. I hide a smile and force myself to relax as we are shepherded up the stairs onto the brightly lit stage, to sit in our semi circle.
We are before the Tribute tower, the crowds of the Capitol arrayed before us, screaming their enthusiasm. The sound is overwhelming, as is the blurred array of colours before me and I have to stop myself gripping the chair as I sit, skirts fanning around my legs.
Caesar Flickerman welcomes us, and then the Interviews begin.
Glimmer is first and I'm amused by just how correctly he got it right. She is arrayed in a see through golden dress, and she plays to it perfectly, being coy and flirtatious with all Caesar's questions. The crowd love her, laughing along with her trilling giggles.
Marvel is next and again Finnick is correct. He's charismatic, enthusiastic and really quite charming. He wins them over with boyish innocence, which intrigues them, because they know he's a Career and scored highly.
Then Clove, who is elegant and cold. She doesn't appeal to the audience like the two from 1, but they look at her and know she will do what it takes to win. Which holds its own weight.
She walks back up to her seat and Cato stands, tall and commanding and saunters down onto the stage.
He is a ruthless killer, handsome but icy, and his Stylist has helped him with the ice blue suit he's dressed in. As he walks back up to his seat he catches my eye and winks.
I blush faintly, and hope the cameras didn't catch that…or the wink.
The two from 3 are unremarkable and soon enough it is my turn to stand.
A sort of calm descends over me and I stand.
A ripple of sound moves through the crowd and I look around in surprise as Darrien stands too, stepping forward to escort me down the stairs. It's a beautiful touch, simple and elegant especially when he simply hands me over to Caesar with a small bow towards me and heads back up to his seat.
The crowd I cannot see applaud madly.
"So!" Caesar says as he guides me to sit, "Schuyler, our Lady of the Lake. Tell me about your relationship with your District partner. I think we are all curious after that little display of chivalry."
The crowd cheers wildly and I glance up towards the other Tributes, but my eyes meet Cato's rather than Darrien's.
Chivalry.
I wonder if he remembers our comments on them.
From the intensity of his gaze…I would say yes.
"Darrien is like a brother to me." I say, turning back to Caesar with a soft smile, "Since the Reaping he's been there for me, supporting me and protecting me. I don't know what I would have done without him."
The audience awws, and the cameras catch Darrien's small smile, looking down at me.
"Nothing else?" Caesar says, winking slightly, "I can keep a secret you know."
"Oh of that I have no doubt Caesar," I banter back with a smile, "But no, I have no deeper feelings for my District partner…"
It's the opportunity Finnick wanted me to grab, so I glance up at the Tributes again, my voice trailing off.
Caesar is quick to pick up on the meaning of the opening and he immediately uses it.
"Do you have feelings for someone else then my dear? Perhaps another Tribute?"
Unwillingly I feel my cheeks flush, and I know by the oohing of the crowd that the cameras have caught it.
"I…I don't know if I can call them feelings Caesar," My head ducks slightly, "But he…" thinking of Cato makes my breath hitch slightly, "affects me like no one else ever has."
From the twitterings, the awing and the whispers, it's obvious that the Capitol are lapping this up.
"Can we have a name?" Caesar asks coaxingly, and I blush again, shaking my head, "Oh you are tormenting us my dear. Isn't she?" he asks the crowd which responds with overwhelming cheers to the affirmative, "Will you act on your feelings? Perhaps in the…Arena?"
I chuckle softly, and tuck a hair back behind my ear.
"Caesar…I'm sure he would rather kill me than kiss me."
The crowd awws sadly, and Caesar kisses my hand, "I find that hard to believe my dear, you are ravishingly beautiful. Why if I was younger I would show your mystery tribute how a lovely woman such as you should be treated. Am I right folks?"
The cheers are deafening as they cheer, and grow even louder as I smile.
"Now…Schuyler. What do you think your greatest strengths are for the Hunger Games?"
"Speed," I say at once, "Resilience and determination." I look out at the blurry faces, "Don't underestimate me. I will surprise you. I can promise you that."
The buzzer goes off and Caesar Flickerman guides me to my feet, presenting me to the crowd, which cheers madly.
Suddenly Darrien is there, and he is helping me back up the stairs, before heading back down to his own interview. I climb the final part alone and sink back into my seat, smiling slightly.
I glance towards Cato and find his icy blue eyes on me, smouldering slightly. I look away, feeling my cheeks colouring once more, and look down to Darrien, who has taken his seat opposite Caesar.
"Darrien!" Caesar claps him on the knee, "So your District partner is the Lady of the Lake and you are the Water warrior. What do you think those legends mean to you?"
"Well Caesar," Darrien is calm, strong, "Schuyler is the epitome of the Lady of the Lake, gentle, kind, but with the kind of strength that shocks people who underestimate what she's capable. And I'm her warrior, sworn to protect her. With my life if needs be,"
The crowd laps it up, and the camera captures me shaking my head.
"She disagrees." Caesar points out with a smile.
"She would." He laughs, "She doesn't like the thought of me dying for her."
"She said that you were like a brother to her. Is she like a sister to you?"
"Absolutely," he nods, "We've already spoken about it, and she knows how I feel about her. She's like my baby sister, I feel like it's my prerogative, my right to protect her."
"And do you know who this mysterious suitor of hers is?" Caesar asks, winking at the audience.
"No actually." He chuckles dryly, "Her love life is strictly her business. I'm just going to protect her…any way I can."
He went on to ask him about his training and scores and I smile softly down at the brave, confident young man. My heart aches at the thought of Finnick's and my conversation, just yesterday morning. If I were to live, Darrien, sweet loyal Darrien would be dead.
As his interview finished I stood, hugging him tight as he walked to our chairs. The audience awed as we clung together, holding each other tightly. He pressed a kiss to my temple, and pulled away, letting me wipe my eyes and sit down.
The other interviews are quite unremarkable, Teesa uses her brains, her quick wits and intelligence, and I know some Sponsors will be watching her.
Then it is Katniss, who giggles and spins in her dress, flames fanning around her.
But it is Peeta who steals the show.
"She came here with me." He says and I suck in a breath, looking down the line to Katniss who is sitting stiffly, face impassive.
We all leave the stage, Darrien escorting me once more and the Stylists and mentors swarm around us. The 12 crowd move swiftly into the building and into the elevators and we follow.
A hand catches my arm and holds me back as the others move off without me. I see a flash of sea green and know that Finnick has seen me, but he doesn't move back, so I turn to face Cato.
His blue eyes are intense as they stare down at me, full of something dark and confused as he looks at me.
"The roof." He says finally, tugging me a step closer, "Tonight."
I look up at him, and say something I hope I won't regret.
"Tonight."
At the moment the feelings between Sky and Cato are...lust with a helping of frustration, intrigue, and power, on Cato's side and attraction with wariness, fear and uncertainty on Sky's side.
Don't worry guys, there aren't going to be tearful protestations of love, or non violence next chapter.
They won't realise they are starting to care until the Arena. Because I figure life and death situations tend to clarify things as nothing else does. But it won't be happening at once. Cato is stubborn and arrogant. And Sky still thinks he'll do her in.
The Games will change that. And them.
And just quietly...I'm totally shipping Darrien/Marvel in my head right now.
