A/N: Hello Everyone! Happy Hunger Games and May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor! Here is an especially longer chapter for you all to enjoy, almost 200 of you already, hope you like it!


CHAPTER 5

As soon as the door closes behind them Finnick and Ron brace themselves, both steadying Darya, with their hands at her arms, when the initial movement from the train catches her off guard.

"Thanks." Darya breathes out to them, Ron just shrugs at her nonchalantly and keeps walking, when she looks at Finnick, she sees him he rolls his eyes at Ron's back before he pushes her forward in the direction Ron had gone.

As they walked down a corridor, Darya could barely make out the scenery, it slipping by quickly in the various windows she passed, it made her dizzy so she decided on following the carpeted path that Ron was leading them on. It wasn't a long walk before Darya arrived at their destination, the room was extravagant with expensive furnishings and garishly bright ornate chandeliers. Most of the space in the room was taken up by a long large curved couch, an oblong oak coffee table, lavished with steaming drinks and pastries every color of the rainbow, sat in the center. As Darya walks in, she notices Gillian sitting on the edge of the couch looking uncomfortable and annoyed as the District 4 escort is prattling away, when he notices her enter he sits up relieved. He's not the only one that notices, the Escort pouncing on them as soon as they arrive.

"It's about time you three, what is it about you 4's and punctuality," the Escort reprimanded, her clawed hands resting on her hips, her ridiculously heeled foot tapping, "the tea is getting cold."

"Cool your tits Pumpernickel," Ron quips rudely, his tone the only indicator of any emotion on his stoic face. He plops himself on the couch haphazardly an uninterested look on his tanned face, "What we all need is a drink."

"Oh, you are incorrigible, and such language in front of a lady no less, how rude," Pumpernickel retorts pointing at Darya, who blushes at being pointed out, no one corrects her that Ron is watching his language, curse words are like water in District 4, especially for sailors, she's heard so much worse.

Ron lets out a sardonic laugh, his blue eyes glinting mercilessly, they remind Darya of a beast about to pounce on its prey, he looks dangerous, she can see why he won his games.

"Really, she's going to the games, I think the time for manners is long gone Simpleton," Ron answers harshly, "if anything she can stand to be a little more rude instead of standing there looking like a fucking fairytale princess."

Darya can't help it, she doesn't know if it's because despite her better judgement she feels bad for Pumpernickel, or if it's because she sees Finnick and Gillian both about to come to her defense, or if she's just annoyed with being called a princess, but she grabs the nearest pitcher and pours it over Ron's head.

For a second no one reacts, Gillian, Pumpernickel, and Ron all just stare at her gob smacked and then she sees Finnick struggling to hold back a laugh.

"What, the tea was getting cold." Darya quipped, causing Finnick to snort.

Pumpernickel lets out a hysterical giggle and Gillian starts roaring with laughter, making Darya smirk and Ron scowl.

"Ugh, whatever." Ron says annoyed, getting up from the couch and storming out of the compartment, his brown hair splayed on his forehead, he passes her on his way out and Darya swears she sees a hint of a smile.

"Well dear, how about some tea, come, you can sit next to me," Pumpernickel says beaming at Darya. She sits down and begins pouring some tea in a dainty blue cup, then pats the seat next to her, which Darya takes gracefully, she makes no mention of her unladylike scene.

Finnick takes the seat next to Darya and steals a cookie from her plate before pressing a button on the table, the whole wall opposite them lights up and Darya realizes it is a screen. She sees various videos pop up, before Finnick maneuvers one with a red tag that reads live.

"Let's take a look at your competition," Finnick tells them seriously, "it looks like they're about to reap District 1."

She sees Gillian move up further and sit on Pumpernickel's other side to take a better look, his striking green eyes staring intently on the screen. Darya looks too, she sees them call a lanky but fit blonde from the group of 18-year-old boys, his group cheering as he makes his way confidently to the stage, a wide grin sitting on his face. Next, they call a petite girl with short blonde hair, she's seventeen but could pass for younger, she doesn't strut to the stage like her partner but despite her dainty appearance her callous eyes make her look deadly.

For the first time it really sinks in that she's going to have to kill in order to survive, she chances a look at Gillian who looks at her, his face has paled and it seems he's come to the same realization too. They share grim smiles with each other before looking back at the screen, Finnick having changed it to a recap of another district.

They work their way through the districts with a couple standing out, the pair from 2 were both strong and vicious looking and they had the same light hair and hooked noses, Darya was pretty sure they had to be related, then there was the pair from 11 who both looked waifish, the boy was fifteen and the girl was sixteen. The boy from 7 looked like a lumberjack, tall, wide and sturdy, he was eighteen, his district partner was the youngest, she was only thirteen, but she looked sturdy too.

After reviewing all of the recaps, Pumpernickel, whose last name is Pimpleton, Darya finally learns, shoos them out and into their rooms for a nap before dinner. She wants them well rested and fed for when they arrive at the Capitol. That won't be for another thirteen and a half hours, but that in itself isn't very long, the outlying districts have to travel even longer, the reapings are always done in the east districts first. Four, one, and seven are usually the last to be picked, but one of the first to arrive, they always have their entrances be done in order.

Darya decides to take advantage of the time to sleep, she takes of her white reaping dress and gently folds it before placing it on the edge of the bed, she steps out of her shoes, sighing in relief at feeling her feet no longer constrained. She relieves herself in the bathroom and washes her hands with some sickly sweet-smelling soap, Darya doesn't care for it. She splashes some cool water on her face, already she feels too dry, she feels a bit anxious being so far away from the water and she doesn't like it, she wonders if that's how Finnick must feel when he's forced to make his trips to the Capitol, no wonder the first thing he does when he gets home is jump into the water.

Darya exits the bathroom and makes her way toward the bed before a knock interrupts her, heading toward the door before remembering her state of undress, she wrenches open the cherry wood wardrobe and pulls out the first robe she spots, quickly wrapping it around her before rushing to the door and opening it.

She catches Ron mid knock with an impatient scowl on his face before he notices her, she sees him open his mouth to make what she assumes is some sarcastic reply, instead she sees him take in her appearance and just stop and stare. Darya growing uncomfortable with the silence and confused as to his visit, and just a little bit annoyed with his lack of speech, decides to break the silence.

"Um, Ron, would you like to come in," Darya asks politely, "did you need to talk to me about something?"

At her voice, Ron shakes his head and seems to break whatever stupor he was in and instead answers her with a scoff, but pushes past her into the room and plops himself down on the bed, as if he didn't need her invitation to come in, Darya expects he probably didn't, none of them do really, her room has no lock. Darya shuts the door and turns to face him, walking toward him in her graceful manner and joining him on the bed, again he just stares, but this time searchingly as if he's scanning for a hint of something, but Darya isn't sure what. Darya raises her eyebrow, and as if seeming to read her question on her face Ron answers.

"You know I didn't get it at first, the way Mags and Odair, and from the reaction of the other Victors, them too, look at you like some kind of mystical sea nymph or something, " Ron said, "I mean I sort of got it with the whole sea goddess coloring thing you got going, but I didn't get why everyone was tripping over their feet for you."

Darya blushed but didn't say anything, she saw Ron notice, a barely there rueful smile appearing on his face as he visibly noticed her reaction, but didn't comment on it, he kept speaking instead.

"They all act like you walk on fucking water, except you do, walk like your on water, I mean," Ron said almost as if he was thinking out loud, "you're like a breath of fresh air for them, no wonder they're obsessed with you, you're sincere, but then again I guess you'd have to be for Mags to be so scared she couldn't bear to mentor you."

Darya started at his words, despite everything that happened she had noticed a lack of Mags, but she hadn't realized it was because of her that she was missing. She had thought it was just Ron's turn to mentor, Finnick always mentored because it was the only time Snow left him alone, but the rest took turns going to the Capitol, Mags still had this year and next year to go, she remembered. Darya could feel her throat tightening and her eyes started to glisten, both with guilt and with a small sliver of happiness, the only other time Mags had refused her duties was when her granddaughter had been picked a couple of years ago, Muscida had had to step in for her, the fact that Mags had to do it now meant that she loved her like family.

At the prelude of tears in her eyes Ron looked almost hilariously horrified, that she almost had to laugh at him, he gave her an awe-struck look and robotically handed her something, as if he could block her face with the item.

"Uh, here." Ron said stiffly.

Darya sniffed and took the small wrapped package from him, the paper was slightly crinkled, she guessed from sitting in his pocket for a while, she opened the package carefully and laying inside prettily was one of Darya's many beaded cords, what caught her attention, however, was the charm, it was a wooden shuttle. She looked up to meet Ron's serious eyes, a token, Mags had sent her a token, but not just any token, it was a cleverly concealed netting tool, one that, to an untrained eye would look like a curious charm, but in actuality was an instrument that could help save Darya's life. The tears fell helplessly from her eyes.

Darya knew what this meant, it meant that Mags had given her an advantage, but she also knew that it was dangerous, that if she were caught, if anyone were to notice or realize what it was, there would be dire consequences and not just for her or Mags, but for all of them. This would be construed as cheating, this would be treated as rebellious, she met Ron's searching eyes again and hardened hers, her gaze matching his in grimness and understanding, she didn't say anything but she deftly placed the necklace over her head, and under her robe, the shuttle resting between her chest, she saw Ron exhale relieved.

It dawned on her that despite his arrogant and snarky bravado, Ron was just as scared and helplessly worried as the rest of them, but most importantly just as angry, at the games and the way it all had to be dragged out, at the way the Capitol sugar coated everything, even the celebrated murder of children. Perhaps he was just much better at hiding it, she knew that being the mayor's son set him apart from the other Victors, but she could see that Ron was just as affected and just as filled with the haunted reminders of what he was forced to do and forced to live with. Regardless of it though, he was still willing to sacrifice his safety for her, and he didn't even know her, she was a stranger to him but he was willing to risk the Capitol's wrath to help her have a small possibility of winning.

Feeling sympathy but greater gratitude and appreciation for him Darya embraced him in silent thanks, she wrapped her arms around his neck and she felt him freeze before he hesitantly placed his hands on her back.

"Thank you." Darya whispered quietly into his ear.

At her thanks, she felt him tense again before wrapping his arms fully against her body and holding her painfully tightly. Darya understood that was his way of answering, and she found herself not for the first time wondering about a Victor, and when the last time they had been held had been. She made a note to herself to give them out more frequently, to all of them.

The lights flickered and the train gave a startling jolt and Darya felt herself fall back on the bed, Ron toppling over too, barely able to catch his hand on the bed so he wouldn't crush her. They laid there in the dark, both of them breathing hard, not knowing what had happened.

"D-did we, did we h-hit something?" Darya whispered shakily, her breath tickling Ron's face.

"I don't know, this, it's never happened before." Ron answered softly.

They heard a group of hurried footsteps in the hallway and then silence before hearing another pair, the lights stopped flickering and then Darya's bedroom door was wrenched open.

"Dar, Darya are you in her-," Finnick said before stopping short, his face turning quickly from concern to fury, "what the hell are you doing Stafford!"

Darya and Ron in their shock and confusion turn to look at each other and realize the impression their position gives, Darya blushes deeply and Ron quickly makes to get off of her. But not fast enough for Finnick, who strides over and practically lifts him off the bed, shoving him hard for good measure, his expression seething.

"Finnick!" Darya calls out standing up quickly.

At her voice, Ron quickly rights himself a scathing look settling on his face.

"It's not what you think you idiot, please she jumped me if anything," Ron says viciously his eyes glittering dangerously again before continuing, "you're a fool Odair, though I will admit I understand why, so at least you're not completely stupid, I mean she is hot."

Darya blushes and stares at Ron incredulously, but he simply sends her a sarcastic wink.

"Shut up Stafford, you don't know what the hell you're talking about, now get out." Finnick answered incensed, his fists balled at his sides.

Finnick barely had time to react before Ron placed a loud kiss on Darya's cheek before purposefully sauntering out, shoving Finnick on his way, a pleased smirk on his face before he cuttingly retorted.

"Lucky you, she gives out…nice hugs," Ron says reaching the door before turning back and addressing Darya directly before he exits, "see you around Princess."

Finnick turns back to face Darya, an almost fearful look on his face.

"Darya, what did he mean you jumped him, and hugs, since when do you give out hugs to strangers, and what the hell are you wearing." Finnick questions Darya insistently.

"I, what are you talking about Fin, nothing happened, he came in to talk that's it, he-he gave me a message from Mags and I just thanked him Finnick, that's all," Darya answered as calmly as she could, she didn't know why she felt like she had to explain herself to him, and that thought annoyed her but it also worried her, she had never seen Finnick like this, he wouldn't even look her in the eye.

"If that's it, then how come I found you two sprawled out on the bed Darya, forgive me but your attire speaks to the contrary" Finnick asked petulantly, pointing to her body and then to her reaping dress on the floor, his eyes never straying on her long.

He knew he was pushing it, he was being ridiculous, but he felt unexpectedly betrayed and angry and he didn't know what to do about it, all he did know was that he was left with the urge to punch Ron Stafford in the face and to keep him as far away from Darya as possible.

"The train made us fall, it's not like we were do-," Darya was saying before Finnick interrupted her.

"Oh for god's sake, Dar put some clothes on or cover up or something," Finnick said, looking intently at the floor.

Darya looked down at herself confused, was her bra showing, but she didn't notice anything wrong, she looked back to Finnick who was burning holes into the carpet.

"Finnick what are you talking about, I am covered up, I'm wearing a robe," Darya said, irritated on his seeming fixation with her clothes.

Finnick turned back to look at her incredulously, his sea colored eyes meeting her annoyed hazel, she saw him study her for a couple of seconds and then immediately relax and watched his face become relieved. Finnick grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the long mirror next to her nightstand, placing her in front of it before stepping to the side.

Darya looked at her reflection and stared horrified, the robe she had chosen was not only see through but it was cut in a way that made her look completely nude, no wonder Ron had looked at her so oddly when he had come in, and no wonder Finnick had assumed something else was going on. She heard herself make a squeaking sound and turned to look at Finnick helplessly only to find him shaking with laughter.

Embarrassed she crossed her arms over her chest, she was basically naked, and while she didn't usually have a problem being nude, most of District 4 didn't, skinny dipping was a right of passage, this felt different, it was more intimate somehow, this felt explicit and sexual. What if someone else came in and saw her like this with Finnick, what would they say, what would they think, if Finnick thought her and Ron innocently hugging was more than that, what would the Capitol think about her if it had gotten misconstrued. Darya was terrified at the thought, what would Snow do to her if some wanted to think of her as explicit and sexual, would he sell her like he does Finnick.

Darya knew she wasn't ugly, none of four was really, but she had never thought of herself as sexy or "hot" as Ron said, sure she had been told she was pretty or beautiful even, Finnick and Annie told her constantly, but was she really erotic in any sense that would inspire lascivious thoughts and desires from the grotesque people that existed in the Capitol. She hoped not, she was eighteen already, she was an adult, Snow would not give her two years of respite before selling her to the highest bidder like Finnick.

Sensing her unease, and watching the different emotions flickering on her face as she stared at her reflection, Finnick quickly surmised what thoughts were crossing through her mind. It was something that had been weighing on his mind too, he knew Darya was beautiful, he knew she was attractive, he wasn't blind to her looks and neither were the others. He saw the way the other men and even some of the women looked at her, Darya was gorgeous and she possessed a gracefulness that was appealing to all who saw her, watching her walk was like seeing a mesmerizing dance, she was naturally sensual and that's what worried Finnick the most. Her personality balanced her out perfectly, because it was difficult to have dirty thoughts when she was so pure and kind, not in a prudish way, she wasn't naïve or helpless, but Darya was so sincere and genuine that everyone had no choice but to respect her, even in their thoughts, as if anything lewd would sully her or cheapen her spirit in some way, because it felt predatory.

Darya didn't think like that with people, she didn't have an underlying reason for getting to know people or striking up friendships or conversations, she wasn't fake, she never pretended, Darya wasn't selfish, she was happy in seeing the people around her happy. But the Capitol wasn't like her and didn't think like her, they would only focus on her looks and her body and the gratification she could give them, like if she had nothing else to offer, as if she was wasn't worth anything.

Finnick swallowed roughly and shook those thoughts out of his head, for now, and instead strode over to the wardrobe and rummaged through the endless rows of clothes before pulling out a mint colored silk robe. Walking back to Darya, who was still standing in front of the mirror, he gently pulled her away and placed the robe in her hands before turning away to give her some privacy.

Darya disrobed and let the offending opaque clothing item fall to the floor, already she felt more like herself, she placed her arms in the green robe Finnick had given her, it was silky and cool, it reminded her of the water back home and all at once she wanted to cry and scream. How was she going to get through this, she hadn't even arrived, and already she was struggling, again she thought of the irony of her life and Annie, what had her dear cousin have to endure before and during the games, and with strangers no less, at least she had Finnick, at least she had someone to rely on, and for that she was grateful.

With no sound from Darya, Finnick grew weary and chanced a glance back at her, she was just standing there, her eyes blinking harshly and it worried Finnick. He approached her slowly so as not to startle her, his presence slowly bringing her back from her thoughts, he smelled like home, he was wearing that cologne she made him. Gently Finnick grabbed her still open robe and draped it over her body, tying the garment to her body securely, he could feel her eyes following his movements and decided to meet them, he felt his stomach somersault when he did. Her hazel eyes watching him reverently, full of affection for him, Finnick never felt better about himself more than when Darya looked at him like that, she always saw him, the real him, and she never looked disappointed, and that always gave him hope.

"Darya Marlowe, you are the most beautiful and kind person I know, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you," Finnick vowed softly, placing a coil of her black velvet hair behind her ear, his eyes staring meaningfully at her, "do you understand Dar, I won't let anyone touch you."

"Finnick," she breathed, "I haven't even won yet, let's not be presumptuous."

"You're going to win Darya, that I've never doubted for a second," Finnick said unquestionably, "but I want you to do more than survive Dar, and I will do anything and everything to make sure of it, I promise."

"Fine, but we're in this together Finnick, I want you to not just survive too, and if I can find anyway to help you, I will Fin, I won't let them touch you either, not anymore, they don't deserve you." Darya said forcefully.

Finnick hesitated, but meeting her determined fiery eyes, he nodded, it was different now, he could feel it, the games, the situation, them, they crossed a line into something that neither of them was sure what, but they crossed it and Finnick couldn't help but feel the changing tides and embrace them eagerly like he did the one's at home. For the first time in a long time, Finnick felt determined, for the first time he felt real hope.


There you have it folks, I am currently working on editing the sixth chapter and am working on the seventh already, so you can expect those fairly soon. I'm still deciding on a couple plot points so tell me what you think! Reviews are appreciated and encouraged! Thank you!