Finnick gave his head a shake as did the general as Ricochet brushed a lose strand of hair from her eyes and she walked over to the men, fussing over her bodice. She wasn't used to the ribbed corset cinching her waist and boosting her bosom and she certainly wasn't used to people ogling her as Finnick and the general were.
Finnick slid an arm around her tightened waist and smiled a genuine and rather sweet smile as he sincerely told her how stunning she looked. She couldn't stop from rolling her eyes and boyishly blowing at her hair to get it out of her eyes. Finnick chuckled and they both looked at the general who looked like he was poured into the suit he wore. His face was beginning to turn red from either lack of oxygen or just the embarrassment at getting caught gawking at a high officer was unknown, but Ricochet decided to end the awkward silence by saying,
"Well? You escorting us to this thing or not?"
The general gave a start before nodding and turning to lead the two down the elevator and through the many halls of Snow's mansion. The hallways were imperative to Snow's safety; hall that led to walls and down into trap doors and outside zigzagged and twisted along the hallways that lead to legitimate rooms. There was an entire week dedicated to merely showing people around the mansion when they started working here so that they may learn all the panic rooms, the meeting rooms, the offices and of course Snow's pride and joy- the banquet hall.
Finnick kept glancing to Ricochet as they walked down the elegantly decorated hallways with the tall ceilings and ornate sculptures. Her heels were muffled by the soft rug under their feet, but she moved as fluidly in the heels as she did in combat boots. She seemed more precise however, her body had a natural tension to it just waiting to be released and her eyes darted to every dark corner as if anticipating coming across something.
"You should wear a dress more often, Ricochet," Finnick teased gently tugging her close to his side with a hand at her hip. She glanced at him, away from a balcony, and teased in response,
"You should stop talking. Things like you are better seen and not heard." Finnick frowned a bit at being referred to as a 'thing' but being in the presence of so many Capitol natives, he figured it was best. It was going to be hard enough not to run into someone he knew through his secret activities and even harder to act as if he was unashamed of it all. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck sharing bedding stories with Ricochet while dancing.
"But if I stopped talking, how would I charm you?" he asked as they stepped into the sparkling banquet hall. It was another domed room with the largest chandelier in the country hanging overhead, what seemed to be a million diamonds sparkling in the light. A table was set up along every wall assorted with as many foods as there were people in the Capitol and a table for drinks. It just as it would be for the Victor's Tour.
A few dozen of Snow's highest officials stood with their spouses on the well-polished dancing floor, the tiles shining with all the colors of suits, gowns, hair and lighting from both Capitol citizens and the decorations Snow had put up. There was a large six layer cake and a banner that read 'Happy Birthday, R.S'
Snow walked forward and gestured grandly to everything he had prepared for his personal protection, the protégé of the Capitol's forces. She gave a half smile, looking around once more as Snow held his hand out for her. She stepped away from Finnick to take it, letting Snow pull her arm under his as he walked to the front of the room where a small stage stood. Snow often used the stage for the live music and speeches he held during meetings and the like, but for tonight it was to honor the woman that kept him alive.
"This is all too much, Mr. President. I'm your Guard not your daughter," she said glancing away from the leering eyes and flashing subtle glares to the men under her command that had the gall to smile at her as Finnick had done. She did not dress for their entertainment or their visual pleasure, she dressed to appease the dress-code Snow had no doubt enforced for such a gathering and nothing else. Well- maybe she tried a bit harder to compete with her escort Finnick Odair, but that was it.
"You've saved my life how many time, my dear?" he asked gently turning her around on the stage to face the crowd. She was still on his left. Most men had found her habit of always standing to Snow's left a mindless habit, but she made it a point to be as close to the man's heart as she could be. Any shot to his head, heart and body she could very easily deflect but she knew most shots would be to his heart and therefore she wanted to always be on that particular side.
Her gown caught the light in a stunning shimmer of bronze sparkles as she turned and then shifted to stand comfortably beside Snow, replying without a moment's hesitation,
"Ten."
"Ten times you've saved my life and thus the Capitol's and you yet you still don't see this as a worthy celebration?" She lowered her eyes and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, instinctively taking in every dark window around the banquet hall and every Avox in white as Snow spoke to the crowd, "Today we celebrate the birthday of one my most loyal and dedicated soldiers. She has saved the Capitol more times than any of us could realize and is one of the most renowned Victors we have to date. Not a soul in this room can say they do not owe this woman in some way or another," his voice boomed with power and the subtle dare to have someone question his statement.
Finnick stood within the crowd beside a Gamemaker with his hands tucked behind him and a proud smile on his face. Ricochet, after all, was his date for the night. Or rather, he was hers, but he knew it was still an honor and therefore he was to be the proudest member of the collective party. The Gamemaker beside Finnick was already munching on some sort of meat dish as he watched the announcement. He spared a chuckle when Snow mentioned having to thank Ricochet for an assortment of things and he elbowed Finnick in the ribs,
"Much like the women here have to thank you, aye boy?" His accent was garbled as if he always spoke with a mouthful of food and saliva glistened on his fattened lips. His eyes eyes had been dyed a vibrant purple and his face painted a vague gold, all in all he was hardly an attractive man as he scarfed down his food. He wasn't heavy by any means, no on in the Capitol was, but by the man's eating habits Finnick knew he was only slim thanks to a surgeon's blade.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," Finnick said with a friendly smile as he leaned down a bit to better hear the man. He gave a laugh and explained,
"If Seneca were here he'd have stories that'd make you drag that woman to a corner not caring who saw." Finnick frowned in confusion. "She's insatiable that one. Sure she stands there in her little gown as if she owns every person in this room but get her behind closed doors and she's just an anxious little kitten willing to do anything if it means to please a man."
"She was only fifteen when she was a Victor, she wasn't of age to be-," Finnick started as knot began to form in his stomach. The Gamemaker gave a laugh as he said,
"Look around Finnick, my boy. She didn't climb those ranks of brute force alone, she climbed the ranks starting from the sweet age of sixteen." Finnick spared a glanced around the crowd and suddenly saw the men watching Ricochet with eyes like hungry wolves, some daring to lick their lips or slid a hand over their suits as they shifted. Their looks were that of familiarity, the looks Finnick himself faced every time he set a foot in the Capitol and the looks he so desperately had wanted to avoid. "I didn't get a chance to request her company before Snow swept her away as his own," the Gamemaker scoffed, "He can be such a selfish man that Snow, he stopped circulating Ricochet the year she took on his personal protection."
"That was only two year ago, so for four years she was-," Finnick let the sentence linger as the man nodded genuinely saddened by Ricochet's short life as a traded pet.
"I could live off the stories alone," the Gamemaker went on as he sipped his wine after a toast to Ricochet's life and health and success in guarding Snow. "Just take a few spare moments to speak to these men, you'll be itching to get her to bed. Seneca said she was best if you got her a bit under the red," he lifted his wine glass to imply getting Ricochet drunk was the best way of getting her to agree. Finnick stared at the wine as he straightened and quickly scanned the crowd when he realized Ricochet and Snow were no longer on the stage and as the music began to swell into overpowering hum, Finnick felt a sort of panic set in.
Women didn't talk of him as blatantly as men would talk of Ricochet. Women were subtle and would talk more of his gentle caresses or the words he purred before he slept with them, never how and what they actually did, but men. Men were entirely different and the way that Gamemaker spoke of Ricochet was disgusting. He spoke of her as if she were a slab of meat and to the men in the Capitol, before her high ranking position, that was all the young woman was. She was something to buy and trade, to experience and then spread along like a fine meal. There would be men in this crowd that had never met Ricochet but would know exactly how she felt, smelled and even tasted to the most diploriable detail.
Finnick excused himself from the Gamemaker's presence and began quickly weaving and ducking through the crowd trying to find where Ricochet had been carted off to. He had to find her. If he could only just keep her away from the wolves that had already had a taste and from the wolves wanting one, he would feel much better about everything he had done and said on his own.
Ricochet was pulled into a dance by Snow's advisor, Hamlin, who held her a bit too tightly to his body as they twirled. She frowned as his hand lightly caressed her hip while he pulled her in step with him. His thin lips were too moist and the scent of cologne had her head spinning it was so strong.
"You've grown, my sweet," he purred in this raspy and disconnected way. He wasn't shy about his leering, pointedly looking down the front of her gown when he had her close enough and adding, "You didn't have much of these last were together."
"You speak of it as if it were a mutual and well-mannered encounter," she growled with a slight snarl on her face. She no longer had to put up with men like Hamlin. She was the deadliest soldier the Capitol had to offer, and Hamlin didn't forget that when he saw her walking around in uniform, but now that she was in a gown it seemed she was back to the disillusioned and emotionless teenager just trying to fall in on herself to forget the world.
"For what I had to pay for you it might as well have been mutual, no other woman is quite like you," he said smiling revealing teeth that were too white. "You mewl like a kitten you know, in your sleep and those nails of yours- I think I still have the marks. The first buy is always the most memorable isn't it my sweet?"
Ricochet's stomach was knotted and her eyes blazing as she tried to subdue the memory of that first night in the Capitol, when Hamlin had her. His cologne bathing her in a musk fog she never quite crawled out of and the sting of the back of his hand when she accidentally bit or moved wrong or flinched in pain. She didn't look away from him, kept an even tone as she replied,
"Sorry Hamlin, but I suppose it wasn't memorable as you had hoped. I only recall the stink of that cheap cologne, you should spend more on your cologne and less on woman who forget you so easily." Hamlin pulled back to retaliate, or possibly threaten her with the video they both knew he had, but before the man could utter a word Finnick appeared and gently pulled Ricochet back towards him.
"My apologies, my good sir, but I was requested to accompany Ricochet well into the marrow," he said glanced at Ricochet as she not-too subtly slid the blade back into the wristband she wore around her wrist. She did have knives hidden on her after all. Hamlin saw the knife and then looked at Finnick as he smiled,
"With the way you pleased women and the way she obeys men, I'm sure you'll have your hands full tonight, Victor. She has a lot of little secrets about her. Best drink up," he held up a glass of wine he pulled from a tray and downed it, all the watching Ricochet for a reaction she never gave. As far as Hamlin was to be concerned, she didn't remember a thing about him.