Thank you for reviews^^.
To Well of Wishes: "Delfina spent six years at FLASH, was that not enough for her to get over her issues or did Mags actually encourage them?" I'll simply say that had the first 3 years at FLASH been enough to help Delfina adjust to a normal life, she would not have gone into Career training. Once she's in Career training though, FLASH wants to make her into the best tribute. It's cruel, but someone has to go, and it has to be someone who still has it enough together to make a good tribute.
To Supernova: Delfina's parents lived in a hugely stressful environment (poverty, exhaustion, no support system, ignorance as to how to cope with grief/a heavily disabled child) that made them terribly neglectful. They doubtless could have been better people had life been kinder, but who they are deep down didn't change the impact their behavior had on Delfina. But definitely, there's a moral quandary there, and I didn't want Delfina's parents to be perfect villains for this very reason. Four still has dark aspects and FLASH saves some but some of the bigger problems aren't solved (poverty etc.)
To Iacopo: Lucian helping with the arena layout means he gave them the idea of using an old estate, not that he knows what traps may or may not be there. That's why Mags doesn't press the issue.
The hovercraft's rumble filled the silent sky. Finnick imagined them picking up Nero, Lupa and Pashmina, picking up the pieces.
He swallowed back bile, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow, cold sweat running down his back. He forced the shallow breaths wracking his chest to deepen, but he could feel it, the rising panic behind the paper thin control. Finnick tossed and turned, shifting to find a restful position, but the fear wouldn't let him go, and when it did, for just one second, the burning dryness to his throat reminded him he'd wake up weaker, less water, less food.
Delfina lay on the side, holding her knife like a teddy bear, and Finnick couldn't tell if she was awake or sleeping. Doubtless she was in between, in the way only Careers knew how to be.
Marten too was sleeping or faking it really well. How could they sleep? Finnick crawled up to the man, close enough to hear his regular breathing. Nero had been a freak of nature, too large for real life, Marten was no freak, but he could still break every bone in Finnick's body.
Finnick stared, waiting for him to move. He had to faking it. Marten's peculiar red hair was just long enough to be styled back, light freckles covering every inch of his face. They'd swooned over him, in the Capitol. He'd talked of poetry and artists, throwing names that Finnick had never heard.
Finnick jumped backwards, his arms flailing uselessly for a weapon he did not have, when Marten's eyes opened.
"I know I am dazzlingly handsome," Marten said calmly, "but must you watch me, Finnick?"
"Were you actually asleep?" Finnick whispered, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs.
"Yes. Now lie back comfortably and sing yourself some songs, your body will rest even if your mind won't," Marten said, impatience creeping up his tone. "We'll schedule for a nap tomorrow afternoon."
Finnick's cheeks burned in shame. Careers want to win. They wouldn't be sleeping like this if they didn't feel safe enough. Finnick held on to that thought, clutching it tight until the darkness lost some of its evil.
Light woke him up. Sweating and sore, Finnick smiled. He'd done it, he'd slept at least a couple of hours.
Delfina had breakfast before him before he'd even stood up.
Stale bread, some brown fruit. Today they'd be hungry, tomorrow they'd start starving. Finnick's muscles clenched. He fought the urge to grab his trident and rush outside. Finish it, why couldn't they just let him finish it!
Delfina was holding the open water bottle, unable to hide her concern. Last night's words resurfaced, blowing away Finnick's anger.
She'd told him why she'd volunteered. Invisible, so certain her feelings and wishes were a waste of time to others. How come in all those years, Delfina hadn't managed to talk to her parents and make them understand? If they weren't monsters, how could they not? Finnick took a deep breath. She'd told him, and that meant everything.
"Thank you, you're awesome," he said, his burning eyes never leaving hers as he took the water.
She broke his gaze, and then smiled, her angle-face back in full force.
Shale had been right. There was more power in secrets than Finnick had suspected. His grin broadened as he realized how easy it was for him, to make Delfina happy.
"A smart woman like you, you must have a plan," Finnick said with a hopeful smile. He stole a glance at Marten, who seemed quite entranced by the books. "I don't mind brains in men either, Marten."
Delfina chuckled before handing Finnick a supply bag. "The others won't think the cannons were Careers until they see the faces tonight. If they see us outside, they'll think the other three are guarding the house and stay outside."
"There has to be water somewhere," Finnick said. "The heat is awful. If there's no water, they'll all be dead by tomorrow."
"Yes. Easiest thing will be to grab a snitch," Delfina replied." The gardens are small, they'll have run into each other already."
Finnick frowned. "A snitch?"
"Finnick, few actually mean it when they say they'd never want to be part of Career pack," Delfina said. A small hard smile drew itself on her lips. "If we find someone isolated, we'll convince them to talk."
Finnick nodded. They had food, they wouldn't even need violence.
"Why did you betray them so early?" Marten unexpectedly said, putting another of the books in his bag.
Finnick's jaw clenched as he turned away. It was no betrayal. There had never been any trust. He took a deep breath. Play it, Finn. Play it or die. "Time's not in my favor, I don't want to fight myself in addition to the others. It's called dignity." He smiled, a full-on angle smile. "Besides, Marten, we're the driving force in the Games, the others wait and weaken while we act. We have power, why give that up? I acted, they didn't."
"And they're out of the game," Delfina pointed out, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "There's a moral to that. Besides, give it a few days longer and your breath will be legit weapons, guys."
Shoving Pashmina's mangled body out of his mind, Finnick gave his armpits a dramatic sniff. His eyebrows shot up. "Did my nose die during the night or do I actually smell almost human?"
"It's high-tech shirts. Unstaining, unsmelling," Marten said as he checked his knife-belt. "There's a bit of technology involved in textiles, not everyone in Eight is a dolt."
Finnick didn't have the leisure to ponder that. A sudden noise had them reach for weapons. Not noise, no. Music.
Someone, or something, was in the ball room.
"Leave me the kills, it'll serve the three of us," Marten said, flashing them a thin smile.
Finnick couldn't meet his eyes.
"Six of the remaining nine didn't go to the Cornucopia, no food, no water," Marten went on. "To the dining room, folks."
They were stealthy and quick but there was no one there. A hot stench of rancid oil and old meat filled Finnick's lungs and his stomach heaved as the horrible blood stains on the carpet filled his vision.
He'd done that. He'd -
"Under the table, now," Delfina whispered, pulling him by the wrist as she lifted the long table-cloth.
Huddled in the dark between the two, struggling to fit in his trident, Finnick found a camera pointing straight at his forehead. Delfina brought a finger to her lips and winked at the audience.
Seconds later, they heard movement.
A voice, weak and exhausted. "Ugh, look at the blood."
Human, female. Finnick allowed himself to breathe. Humans weren't too dangerous.
"We'll be sick if we eat that, Levina." It was a boy's voice, hoarse and still cracking. "It's been lying there for days. It's rotten."
Delfina raised a full hand in the gloom. Five. Those two were District Five.
They were close, the dishes were moving. "Drink some of the meat juice in the bowls," Levina whispered urgently. "No, from the fruit salad, don't touch the meat, but the fruit should be okay. We need that sugar, Keegan, badly."
Finnick could almost picture her in his mind. Square-cut blonde hair, tall and very skinny, he'd never seen her smile. He never would. He felt Marten shift, silent as shark readying to strike.
Finnick had never felt so miserable.
"They didn't fight for food," Keegan said. "Nothing's upturned and look, mattresses, six of them." His voice rose, hope giving it newfound strength. "It was the Careers, Levina, those cannons were for Careers!"
Delfina's hands were on the table. Finnick realized they were going to upturn it.
"On three," Delfina mouthed.
Finnick found some strength in her eyes. He put his palms against the hard wood.
One. Two. Three.
Dozens of plates clattered and clanged together, spilling food and sauce all over the cloth and carpet. But not covering the sound of Levina's screams.
Keegan stood petrified as his ally fell, his hand clutching a rusty gardening fork. Marten simply stepped forward, standing a head taller than the boy, and drove the blade in his gut.
"Food poisoning and dehydration are very unattractive ways to go," Marten said, his voice soft as he cleaned his knives. "They weren't unintelligent, but you were right, Finnick, in the Games, nothing good comes to those who wait."
Finnick looked away. Levina and Keegan from Five, district partners, just like him and Delfina. He blinked back tears. They'd never stood a chance.
"Gardening tools, how did we not think of that?" Delfina said with a cluck of the tongue, picking up the fork. "Time to visit the two sheds. If one's gardening equipment, I wonder what's in the other one."
"Probably a car," Marten replied.
Had that man really trained all the guilt and disgust away?
Delfina's wrapped her fingers around Finnick's wrist and pulled him after them.
They were gone by the time the cannons blasted.
Capitol
Mags flicked through the thin stack of papers describing various documentaries and reality-TV shows and pulled out the second one. She couldn't believe Extreme Archeologists had made the top five. Twenty volunteers heading out in the wilderness to see what they could find, all of it filmed. Someone died in every season.
Lack of purpose is killing more Capitolites than rebels, Mags thought wryly.
"This one seems healthy, Donna, and Scientia channel looks like it can afford Finnick," Mags said with a deep frown, handing her the sheet. "How popular is this Practice Success show?"
"Pretty popular, I'd say. I actually watched an earlier version as a teen… Motivated me to go into mutts, it made it all sound so wild. Obviously, I switched careers later, but still, no regrets." Donna put her hand on Mags' shoulder and Mags tensed slightly.
It was always a little surreal, how different Capitolites were, even those Mags liked and trusted. Mags had grown up dreading TV, because TV was the mouth of the Capitol in their homes and rarely brought good news.
"It's clever and people don't watch it for drama, not really," Donna continued, oblivious. "It's to get kids to commit to longer studies instead of living off district taxes."It's popular enough to be almost considered mainstream. It's a safe bet, Mags. The economy really could use Practice Success becoming the 'new cool'," Donna finished, making air quotes with her fingers.
Mags nodded, hiding her turmoil behind a grateful smile. She was selling Finnick off to reality TV for a three year exclusive contract while she still had the power to choose. Capitol programs weren't all vulgar or dangerous, but the reality shows who used teenagers and made 30% audience when they aired definitely were.
Mags picked up the phone and started placing calls.
"He hasn't won yet," Antioch Glitterati, CEO of the channel Scientia, pointedly said.
"If he doesn't win, you'll receive a 50% refund. If he does and you have to bid for him, this same contract will cost you ten times as much."
"Which I can't afford," the man tersely said. "Even for Finnick Odair. I want a 75% refund."
Mags waited. Capitolites grew flustered in silence.
"If you have a sponsoring plan that would require the extra 25%," Glitterati said, "I'll allow you access to the money, but only if I approve first."
Donna grinned and gave her a silent thumbs up, drafting the contract as they spoke.
"I will send you the documents within minutes," Mags said in her crisp mentor's voice. "Please return it signed before your competitors think to pressure me into an agreement with them. It would be quite a pity. May the odds be in your favor, Mr. Glitterati."
She put the phone down and counted to three before allowing herself to sigh.
"Television is settled, child protection services are on our side… Fashion," Mags said, the word escaping her lips like a curse. "There's too much money involved for President Snow to allow me to spare Finnick the victor's auction…" She forced a smile on her lips as she stood up. "They'll interview me live for the family interviews." That Mags was proud to have achieved. It was a morbid game among the mentors, to see how the interviewees' words could be twisted by the Capitol's editing. "Have I forgotten something, Donna?"
"To sleep," Donna cracked, unimpressed by Mags' resulting glare. "Effie Trinket asked me if you had a minute for her earlier."
Mags shrugged. "Of course."
Effie arrived less than five minutes later, with a clipboard and a pile of papers.
"So, I was thinking, Finnick doesn't need anything useful right now, but for his image-"
"Effie," Donna interrupted, hands on hips. "Who told you to do my job?"
The young escort from Twelve straightened her frilly semi-transparent shirt. "Well I haven't got anything to do now, do I? And Haymitch is being quite unhelpful, so I thought I could help you. I've checked your history, Mags. You only send your tributes practical gifts. Rogue is sponsoring you, send Finnick their sun glasses. It'll be like he's on our team," Effie said, her voice rising in excitement. "The Capitol's team!"
You could have heard a pin drop.
Donna snorted. "Mags, fire me. She's wasted on Twelve."
A smile bloomed on Mags' lips. "You don't realize how set in your ways you are until someone young shocks you with a no brainer."
That was brilliant. So simple yet brilliant.
"I've checked the policy for non-listed gifts," Effie continued, "but as main sponsor, with the way the law is drafted, Rogue can push for it."
Mags took up the phone. "Nori, do they plan on leaving the mansion today?"
"Funny you'd ask," Nori replied from the mentor's room. "There's been two cannons, District Five, both, they've blocked the doors to the mansion and they're now in the garden, heading for the sheds and hoping to find a snitch."
Donna grasped Mags' arm. "The Eight kid, would Finnick…" Donna's voice trailed off meaningfully.
Mags frowned. "Nori, what meaninful feed have we got on Shani from Eight?"
"You give me food, or I'll run and get the Career's attention on you," Shani said, staring daggers at the pair from Eleven.
Crouched in the apple trees of the small lush orchard, they sneered at her.
"Go away, before we make you."
"Throw it now, or I swear I will. You don't scare me, not like they do! And if you try and get me, I'll scream so loud they'll know exactly where you are."
Shani was weak, barely pubescent, but she had a decent head on her shoulder, and knowledge to sell. Mags nodded.
"The Gamemakers have to approve any message sent," Effie pointed out, her eyes wide and unsure, "any clues on other tributes or the arena are against the rules."
Effie was so very new to this. "Nori, I think Delfina should meet Shani. I'll get back to you soon," she finished, ending the call.
Effie shifted uncomfortably, her mouth opening and closing a couple of times. Mags smiled at her, enjoying Effie's nervous smile back maybe a little too much.
"Delfina has good instincts." And trained to see through her mentor's codes. "Alright, let's hear those other ideas, Effie."
A healthy blush rising in her cheeks, Effie clapped her hands together. "Well, I have a few so I've made this list-"
Mags raised a hand. "One second. If we involve Shani from Eight, she's thirteen, Finnick is fourteen, they're the two youngest and Cecelia wanted to get publically known as a motherly figure… Donna, can you fetch her? I have to rethink how we'll play out the family interviews."
"I'm on it," Donna said, striding out with an energy that made Mags smile. Happy or not, Cecelia was coming.
Mags turned to Effie. "Sorry, Effie. Now I'm listening."
Arena
The heat in the shed was suffocating. Finnick blinked sweat out of his eyes. He'd never wanted a swim so badly.
At least they'd found water. A whole reservoir next to one of the sheds, linked to what looked like the garden's watering system. It looked clean, after washing their face and hands, they'd dared a few sips.
Marten had been right, it was cars, all kind of stored stuff in shelves on the wall, and cars. Sleek, powerful looking things that had to roar like thunder when they sped by. They'd never fit on the Capitol's roads.
"Marten, stop delaying us for the excuse to rummage through that junk!" Delfina hissed.
Marten glared. "Junk? Old toys, picture books, photographs… those tell of people, of a way of life. It was the golden age of mankind, when buildings stretched out to the skies and every ailment could be cured." His lips thinned. "I don't expect you to understand."
Delfina wasn't amused. "You'll have time later –
No he won't. "You have half an hour," Finnick said. Delfina stared at him in disbelief.
Finnick wiped sweat off his face. Damn, he was melting. "Fancy a swim?" he said, feeling reckless. There was space enough for two.
Delfina's eyebrows shot up. A grin bloomed on her full lips. "Hell yeah."
Soon they were splashing around in the reservoir, their shirts on the grass, not caring for the noise they made. They would see anyone coming.
Finnick gasped when Delfina's leg collided with the back of his knees, flipping him backwards. Laughing, he shook the water out of his hair and jumped on her back to force her down, his hands tight around her soft shoulders.
They were alive. Deaths were things of the past, this, this meant they could go on, and Finnick laughed, maybe a little too hard, to make it very clear to the Capitol that they'd never take that away from him. He swallowed as he looked at Delfina, an impish smile refusing to leave his lips.
"It would've been worse had I kept the shirt," Delfina said, checking that her black bra was still in place.
Finnick grinned. Oh yes, he could vividly imagine it sticking to Delfina's glistening toned muscles. Finnick turned his eyes back on their surroundings before it got embarrassing. He'd swam naked with friends and strangers all his life, boys and girls alike. They only bothered with swimsuits where peacekeepers could catch them, but this wasn't a sea, just a large tub, and, Circe, she was gorgeous.
But it was more than that. Delfina was alive and happy, and Finnick wished time would dilate and the moment never end.
Delfina splashed him. "Finnick, put a clamp on those hormones."
"Shut up and enjoy the view yourself," Finnick cracked, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he leant back to feel the sun on his chest. His trident lay against a corner, less than half a yard away.
Finnick's soaked shoes squished with every step he took. At least the sun had dried his trousers.
He stole a glance at Delfina. He hoped she knew what she was doing. They were supposed to go to the other shed, before every tribute out there grabbed shovels and spikes and chainsaws, instead they were heading back to the Cornucopia.
It had to be Nori's package. The sickle made perfect sense, it being Delfina's favored weapon. The biscuits made sense, and they'd been good. A hairband kind of made sense. The white rose did look good pegged to Delfina's ears… Maybe together they made a special sense to Delfina... She had taken a while before sharing the biscuits.
Delfina seemed to enter a random hedge, and they entered a small cozy garden with stone benches under a willow. There were no hiding places, nothing of strategic interest, except the maze-like setting with the tall hedges that turned it all into an infuriating game of hide and seek.
"We have food, water and weapons," Delfina called.
Finnick jumped at how loud her voice was. Marten didn't look very fazed.
"You have information," Delfina continued.
Finnick stepped closer to her. "What?"
"There is no food or water here, someone who takes refuge here has no alliance, and probably no supplies," Delfina said with a smirk, not lowering her voice at all. "That person is therefore no threat, but allied with us, they go from having no chance at victory, to maybe, with some heavy luck…" Her voice trailed off, and she waited.
To Finnick's astonishment, a small figure finally appeared beneath one of the arches. She was holding a sturdy branch but had no supplies.
The girl from District Eight. The youngest of them.
"Hello, Shani," Delfina said with a smile. "Bread, fruit, water?"
"Where did you find food, Eight?" Marten said sharply.
Shani swallowed. She had something willful about her that made Finnick stand a good step away, just in case.
"Orchard," Shani finally said.
"And yet you're not there," Marten pointed out, and Finnick realized his cool wasn't any less eerie when it was directed at someone else. "Which alliance is in the orchard?"
"Eleven, both. They got stuff from the Cornucopia, knives, water," Shani admitted after a pause, edging away from Marten.
Delfina put her hands on the shorter girl's shoulders. "Shani, you're one of us now. We're not going to hurt you."
"There's just three of you," Shani said, shakily grasping the water and small bundle of food Finnick gave her.
"It would seem Finnick and Delfina didn't promise not to hurt them." Marten's tone was light, but somehow still a threat.
Nor you, Finnick snappishly thought. Marten was creeping him out.
"There's Nine closest to here," Shani said quickly before greedily wolfing down the food. "He's sick, he ate flowers. The flower garden is before the orchards."
"But the cannon might scare the Elevens off, and Nine's not going anywhere if he's sick." Marten's growing smile was screwed up.
Finnick's jaw clenched. "Shani, we're like you. Food's gone. Time's against us, so we get them now, and we don't let them run off."
Shani looked down. "They gave me food because I said that if they didn't, I'd find you and tell you about their hiding place."
"Oh, you're clever, sweetie," Delfina exclaimed with a fond smile. "But you do realize you're being loyal because they gave you, what? One piece of fruit, two? For three entire days? Come on, you're not that cheap."
Shani took a half step back from Delfina. Her eyes flickering between the three of them. Finnick wanted to step back, to stop crowding her, but then Marten would have been closest to her.
"Let's get them," Shani whispered hollowly. "I won't get in the way."
"You'll run away when you hear the cannon because you don't know where the others are, do you?" Marten's soft voice was like poison. "Ten, lady-Ten and Six. Or am I wrong and you have other useful knowledge?"
Finnick's punch shot out before he registered what he was doing.
Marten was faster still. Finnick barely nicked his ear and would have fallen over hand Delfina not grabbed his arm.
His blue eyes suspicious, Marten tutted. "Please stay civilized, Finnick."
"It's working, Marten," Finnick snapped. "You're creepy as fuck. Stop picking on a thirteen-year-old girl and let's move on."
The bastard actually smiled, all sleek and handsome for the cameras. "Sorry, I forget that you're not… that you're sensitive."
That you're not trained.
Finnick stole a glance at Marten's hands. The knives glinted under the sun.
Acute danger made Finnick sweat. He had to kill that guy and quickly.
"I do what is necessary, but I don't like bullies," he said stiffly.
Saying it didn't make him feel any better. He didn't dare look at Shani.
Shani had vanished by the time the two cannons sounded. Febrile from the murders he'd just witnessed. He hadn't killed the Elevens. Marten had patted him on the back afterwards and said "no worries." Finnick hated him so much.
A sword sailed down from the sky, a thin sword that looked like it could even pierce glass. Marten swished it around with a satisfied smile, almost looking like a dancer as he effortlessly twirled it into elaborate figures. Disgusted, Finnick tore his eyes away. Marten made him feel clumsy and weak.
The pair from District Eleven had been hidden in a tree. Had Shani not told them, Finnick doubted they'd have found them easily. He was pale for an Eleven boy, tall but skinny, like a scarecrow, but he'd fought. She was dark as night, and beautiful, the kind of face that wouldn't let you go. She fought too.
"They make them disgustingly young now," she'd snarled at Finnick. "So, is your Ma going to spit on your grave when you'll bite the dust like all the losers before you?"
"You're all talk in Eleven. Always angry, always obvious, never managing to get anything your way. You'd think you'd learn, eventually." Delfina had shot back before Finnick could speak. "Have you developed a fondness for the taste of whip, or is what they say true, that when the district lines were drawn they put the stupidest stock to tend the orchards." She paused. "That, or you're somehow inbred…"
Finnick's brain couldn't have come up with anything better than 'Just because your Ma wouldn't care,' and there was no way he'd be saying that. Nobody had looked at him with such disgust ever before.
Bystanders are almost as bad as bullies.
He wasn't cut out for this. He needed it to be over. They were close, less than eight tributes left. So close, but so far. He clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would break. Not they. Just him.
'What's the point in winning if it's to be pathetic?'
Finnick stole a glance at Delfina, her eyes shining, her arm bruised where Eleven had hit her but she didn't seem to care.
Another parachute fell, with a Four and the male symbol, and Finnick really hoped for some food.
A dismayed snort burst from his nose when he saw the contents of the small box. No way. He grinned broadly, hiding the sudden urge to punch someone. Someone with fancy clothes and a stupid sing-song accent. But Mags was right to remind him. He couldn't forget.
He put on the fancy sunglasses and crossed his arms flirtatiously.
"Those eyes of yours are illegal weapons," Delfina teased. "Very decent of you to hide them."
Finnick lowered the sunglasses and winked at her.
He caught Marten's furious glare and pretended not to see.
He took a deep breath instead. If Marten was so angry for sunglasses, then they probably mattered a whole lot. Somehow.
Capitol
"Your turn, Finnick," Marten said. "He's suffering, he's an unmoving target. Easy and the moral thing to do. You're welcome."
The three were standing between next to the hedges marking the orchard's boundaries. Half-hidden under the hedge, covered in grime, was the boy from Nine, too far gone to realize what was happening.
From behind the portable screen mentors could take with them outside the mentors' official room, the voices were always slightly distorted, the image choppy. Like a bad movie. Mags sat on the Golden Fleece's windswept terrace, empty except for Avoxes setting everything up for the early evening cocktail. Seeder sat next to Mags, letters to her late tributes' families half written, and a supportive hand on Mags' arm. Mags had stopped trying to figure out where Seeder found the inner strength to be such a wonderful friend.
"If he were conscious, Finn, I'm sure he'd rather it be someone who doesn't enjoy it."
During training at FLASH, Mags and the Instructors made sure to be very clear : the Capitol wants murderers during the Games but when you're a Victor, they'll happily take murders as proof District people are beastly. Careers tread a fine line. On the other had, the audiences loved to see tributes fall and were quick to forgive, especially someone pretty like Finnick. Ironically, if Finnick stayed too 'nice', they would get irritated at him. Delfina knew all this, and, on some level, Finnick knew it too.
"Do you want me to knock him completely unconscious first?" Marten taunted, his impatience bleeding through. "Is it in Four that you have those birds that chew food so their toothless young can eat them?"
Delfina rolled her eyes. "We don't have birds with teeth. You're mixing up your metaphors, One."
Mags watched Finnick hesitate, tense and then finally grasp his trident. The boy from Nine had been on the edge of unconsciousness for hours. Hunger had led him to eat random plants until he made himself sick. He'd tried to crawl to realtive safety, but slow poison, hunger and dehydration were killing him. It would be a mercy kill.
Delfina muttered something in Finnick's ear, her arm slipping around his waist, and he relaxed his grip on his bloody trident, the desperate gleam in his eyes replaced by something more confident.
It was a sweet kind of pain to see the two fo them so united, to know Finnick's resolve remained unbroken.
Now there were only six left.
The three decided to rest in a secluded place during the hottest hours. Marten was reading the book he'd found, reverently turning the old pages. Delfina picked flowers and making necklaces, humming to herself. Finnick sat just close enough to Marten to be a threat, his dislike of the boy clear as day. Just like his hesitation.
He couldn't do it. Mags remembered how close she had been to Fife's gun, how easy it would have been to take. There was the same invisible barrier between Marten and Finnick now.
Marten lowered his book. "I have an older sister, Velvet. She joined the peacekeepers, mostly to learn to defend herself, to protect me," Marten said, something suspiciously gentle about him. "It seems we have that in common, strong girls looking after us."
Mags stood up instinctively. So many miles, between her and the boy behind that screen. So many miles, but Mags reached out, wishing her fingers around Marten's throat.
"Delfina believes in me," Finnick said after a pause. "I have to make that trust mean something."
"She's happy, do you want me to kill her now?" Marten said, compassion softening his features. "You owe Delfina something painless. She's proud right now, she has no regrets. I think she'd rather die before we hunt down the little girl."
Mags grit her teeth. Why couldn't District One have sent them someone a little less cold blooded and manipulative this year of all years? If Finnick panicked, if Finnick lost his cool -
"I think she's old enough to make that choice," Finnick said shakily, his hands balling into fists.
"Seriously, Finnick, you want her to spell it out for you? Don't be a coward. She's given it all, as if you were her own little brother, worse, her son, and you're hiding behind her, not making choices even now? Comfortable are we?"
"He's making it about manliness," Seeder whispered from next to Mags, "but he's focusing on the wrong tribute."
Mags tore his eyes off the boys and looked at Delfina. The tightness around the girl's eyes betrayed that she was very aware of the tension. Delfina was facing the camera, weaving flowers together, using her knife to cut the leaves and branches off.
Until her fingers twitched her song changed. A la puerta del cielo, a lullaby. The lullaby they had agreed on. The flowers soon made a hangman's noose.
Willing her fingers steady on the tablet, Mags ordered the wound kit. The Gamemakers wouldn't send it before there was an actual blade wound, and the prices would spike, but at least Plutarch could prepare it.
"Finn, get up. I made you a necklace," Delfina called cheerfully, waving the flowers in her left hand, a knife securely in her right, out of the boys' line of sight.
Finnick stood up. Marten straightened.
The knife flew from Delfina's hand to Marten's chest.
Marten twisted and rolled. The weapon sliced open his right shoulder.
Mags hissed. The knife had sliced deep but missed anything crippling. This was just pain. Marten would be on his feet in seconds.
"Kick him!" Delfina shouted, rushing for them with her sickle in hand.
"Just run," Mags said hoarsely. Get away. Forget strategy, baby boy, get away.
Seeder grasped her hand.
Finnick stumbled, he stomped on Marten's right wrist, maybe hard enough to crack it.
Marten's left hand shot out, grabbing Finnick's ankle. He pulled. Finnick fell down, his head striking the grass. Marten forced himself up, swaying from pain, he swished and jabbed his thin sword at Delfina. She screamed but didn't slow. She collided into him, digging the sickle in his chest and forcing him back on his knees.
A deep gash marred Delfina's upper arm and half her chest, just under the collar bone. There was too much blood even for the shirts to absorb. The blade was still sticking out from her arm.
"He's fourteen, now he needs me to fight his battles, but he's twice the man you are!"
Two against one, they wrestled on the ground, words giving the way to groans. Finnick grabbed Marten's leg and tried to pull him away. It ended with a crack, Delfina's knee on Marten's throat.
Finnick scrambled backwards, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry," he stammered, wiping frantically his hands on his shirt. "I heard you, to kick him, I -"
"Shut up, Finn. Cut me a piece of trousers long enough to wrap around my arm and pull his shirt off him," she ordered, clutching at her wound.
Mags heard her mutter to herself, tracing the lines of her arm as tears escaped her eyes. When the kit finally arrived. Delfina gave herself a shot of painkillers before removing the long thin blade.
"Those perfume-snorting retards!" Delfina exclaimed. "Can't they find a proper doctor in their golden city? My arm is asleep! They put my effing arm and half my side to sleep!"
"But the pain's gone and the bleeding's stopped right?" Finnick said with a smile of pure relief.
Mags' own smile faded when she realized her sponsor money counter was zero. Zero. Nothing.
She'd had… She swallowed bitterly. It had only been a matter of time before Snow intervened.
Her eyes glued to that accursed counter. Mags started when a hand shook her shoulder.
Her phone had been ringing. Seeder answered for her.
"Mags!" Nori said urgently through the phone. "The family interviews are now. Donna's waiting for you. Seeder, you're wanted. They're having extended reaction shots in Eleven to pull the tribute number to eight."
Just leave her alone… Couldn't they leave Seeder alone?
"I'm ready," Mags said, forcing herself up.
"Would it not be entertaining, to see the two of us tear each other apart for our tributes," Seeder said, her anger sharp but controlled. "I've had to listen to Eleven be abused for decades, to bow my head and say, yes, you're right, they're beasts. They really expect me to say something different today?"
"When the District lines were drawn," Mags whispered with a weak smile, "despaired to see they had so many people they couldn't make productive, they built a special place for them, and named it the Capitol."
Seeder's lips twitched.
"There hasn't been a single game yet where only Careers killed," Brutus said, breaking the silence.
The mentors from Ten had all but banned Mags out of the other room. She hadn't insisted. She'd said what she had to say during the interview, Finnick had gained another percent in the polls, reaching a record 72%, but there was nothing she could do about it anymore.
"Who knows, this might be it." Finnick would never kill Delfina.
Mags was very grateful to Brutus to come and keep her company, but she knew better than to tell him. He knew, or he wouldn't be here. She wondered if Lyme had asked since she could not be here herself, or if he'd come of his own violition. The deal was that Mags shared her thought process aloud, so that they'd get mentoring tips out of it.
All eyes were on the gardening shed. Colt and his two allies had found the tractor in the gardening shed, the solar powered tractor, and unlike the couple from Five, they had managed to make it work and it was now charging behind the shed.
Mags was trying to figure out how bad that made things. A tractor was no tank, but it moved at a reasonable speed, and it was heavy, and good protection.
Colt, his district partner Fora, Cardinal from Six and young Shani. Already the arena just held six.
"With an arena so small, it was never going to last a week. Adding effects to the house would have cost more than building one of their own," Mags muttered, "so if something is to happen it will be in the garden..."
"An ancient house, everything old but with music and a banquet to recreate what was," Brutus joined in, "to make an atmosphere while still leaving the tributes on the front stage."
Mags shut her eyes. After decades, she had started to understand how the arena-stories were crafted. The tropes, as the Game-analysts liked to call them. "They might want to recreate the moment it was abandoned."
"The Cataclysm? Wasn't it nuclear in nature?"
Mags remembered her own victory tour, and the first time Lucian had taught her anything. "Before the nuclear plants overheated because of an energy grid failure, there was a tsunami which unleashed a plague that had been bottled in a laboratory everyone had thought safe. The plague spread, the panic with it. The same tsunami damaged a major power plant but the technicians sent to repair it had been contaminated by the water and couldn't get the job done in time. "
Brutus was eyeing her suspiciously. "Even you are not old enough to have lived that."
Mags barked a laugh. "I have talked to educated people, Brutus."
Brutus crossed his arms. "Well... Panic they've been known to do. Seneca Crane does like mood altering substances."
"There are many cataclysms in many mythologies. For all we know it could be a flood..."
Mags willed herself to be calm. Finnick was by far the favorite and Seneca did not take too many liberties with the crowd's preferences.
Arena
"The sun's setting?" Delfina said confusedly as a large shadow fell over them. She jumped down from the tree and caught herself with her hands as she stumbled.
Finnick looked up, wiping fingers sticky from the last of the orchard's figs, and blanched. That was no cloud. It rippled, covering half the sky.
"No, no, it's moving, it's a moving shadow."
A billion tiny creatures, in a huge dark swarm, dragging a sinister curtain between them and the sun.
They stared at it for five whole seconds, before Delfina grabbed him.
"To the Cornucopia!"
Finnick grabbed his trident. He could hear a buzz, a vicious rumbling buzz drowning every other noise.
"There look!" Delfina shouted, pointing at the mansion.
Behind it, a column of fire rose into the ceiling, the forcefield seemed to shift, opening behind it.
This is mad.
But it was obvious too. Finnick grabbed Delfina's hand. "Through the flames! The bugs won't follow us there!"
As they ran, Finnick realized with a sharp jolt that he was dragging her. She was limping. Those painkillers were getting to her leg, putting it to sleep.
Rage and terror pumping energy in his veins, Finnick wrapped his arm around her shoulders, carrying half her weight. He couldn't let her fall. He couldn't let her go. It was almost pitch dark, except for the curtain of flames on the path to the gates to the estate.
There was someone not far, someone small.
"Come on, Shani," Finnick shouted. "Come on." He wouldn't look back, he imagined little fangs and stings digging into his shirt. He wouldn't turn, he wouldn't. The fire burned his eyes, his instincts screamed to turn and flee, but Delfina was heavy against him. He couldn't stop.
They jumped through the fire.
Suddenly there was light.
The three of them stopped, gasping. They were on a road, the ruins of a once wide road with now bushes and roots colonizing every crack.
The wilderness, this was the wilderness.
"Why aren't we burning?" Shani said, frantically patting her hair and clothes.
"Don't burn when your finger goes through a flame," Delfina said, fury etched into her features as she stomped her left foot on the ground. "I can run, just have to figure out how to when there's no feedback from this stupid leg," she growled.
Alarm washed away her rage. "Move," she cried, staring at something behind them. "Go left!"
A new rumbling, not bugs, a machine -. Finnick turned around and stared.
A tractor?
Finnick glanced around. All the trees had been cut, leaving large stumps all around. There was nowhere to hide.
Delfina urgently grabbed his arm. "The terrain's uneven. They're not experienced drivers, we can get it to topple, or slow enough to jump on."
They ran, until Shani was crying for air and Finnick just had to stop.
Okay, the tractor was a fright but they had to think straight. "They're not Careers," Finnick said, gasping for air as the adrenaline went down. "What do you want them to do? Try and throw a knife at us from that cabin?"
Delfina took a deep breath. "Right. Shit, watch it, the grass is on fire." She threw her last supplies to the ground, keeping an eye on the advancing tractor. "Drink it all."
"Food?" Shani asked weakly, her balance unsteady.
"You wish, kid," Delfina said with a wan smile. "We are all so weak, it's going to be pathetic, I fear."
"Parachute!" Finnick said. "Parachutes," he added, much less enthusiastically, when he saw a glint of silver thirty yards away and the tractor stop.
"It says Eight," Shani protested when Delfina caught the floating box.
Delfina rolled her eyes. "It says 'Don't let Mags' spawn take more than half'." She took a big slurp out of an opaque bottle. "There," she said, "drink your fill, Finn."
Shani glowered but said nothing.
"Take more," Finnick said. "Shani and I can spare it."
"I can handle it, you need strength," Delfina said sternly. "Won't be making a show of strength, I'm dragging half my body…"
Bastards, those bastards.
The drink was cool, and almost pure sugar. Finnick didn't want to think what else might be in it. Sugar was good.
"Hey," Shani warned as he gulped it down.
She took three steps back as soon as he'd handed her the drink. Finnick wanted to scream. How was he supposed to kill her and live with himself? How could the Capitol even want this?
Delfina grasped Finnick's head, cradling his cheeks in her hands. "Finn, you can't lose focus, not now"
Finnick nodded. His lips curled into a snarl. "Why can't two people win? Four's are always allies, because Mags wants us to be good people, to watch out for each other, but can you imagine, what people could do, if they didn't have to be selfish all the time? There would be heroes, real heroes." Finnick's breath hitched. "We're so much stronger together, and because we could trust each other. We almost had fun, right?"
"Yeah," Delfina said with a small smile, apprehension entering her eyes.
"Aren't they tired of seeing the same thing, year after year?" Finnick said, his voice cracking. They couldn't take her! "People having to be evil, even for the right reasons? What about something new?" Finnick said, "two victors." Surely the Capitol would hear them. "Imagine the party in the Capitol."
Imagine not having anyone to mourn.
The fire was edging closer, flying from bush to bush, Shani - Circe, she was gone again.
The tractor roared, coming after them.
"Okay, they have knives. What gardening tools are dangerous?"
"Chainsaws," Finnick said.
"Can't throw them."
"Flower pots?"
Delfina snorted. She kissed Finnick on the cheek. "Don't change," she said, her eyes bright. "Or just for best."
The tractor was almost upon them.
"How can you be okay with this?" Finnick hoarsely said.
He didn't feel worth it. He wanted to be a rebel, to make things better, he wanted it so badly. But Delfina was right there and so real, and how could he?
A dangerous light entered Delfina's eyes. "None of this is because of you, Finn," she said. "You've given me the luxury to choose the right thing, and to go feeling proud. Promise me."
Finnick grabbed her hand. The one he knew could still feel. "You matter, Delfina," he said thickly, "you mattered so very much. I promise, I'll win."
"Now you follow me, Finnick Odair, into the fire," Delfina said, an exhilarated smile on her lips. She put a knife in his hands. "Leave Victory's Herald here, you'll get it back later."
When she jumped, it wasn't graceful, but she landed on the steps before the tractor cabin's door, and she smashed at the window with the hilt of her blade.
Finnick was right next to her, on the ground. Struggling to keep up with the erratic driving. The fire, they driving the beast into the flames.
Smash!
It was Colt, from the passenger seat, who grabbed Delfina's arm and kicked the cabin door open. She latched onto him, pushing on the door with her feet and pulled him down with her.
The tractor slowed, they fell. Colt was on top. She screamed.
Finnick kept running, he couldn't look. He'd promised. Tears of rage filled his vision. Finnick leapt for the machine, grabbing the open door.
Into the fire.
"No! Please –"
Finnick smashed his fist against the driver's nose. The tractor stopped, Finnick punched again, his vision blurry, his breathing ragged and desperate. He heard the other door open and grabbed the boy's head, smashing it against the wheel. He jumped across the cabin, rushing after the running figure. He didn't notice she was a girl until he'd driven the knife in her back.
She screamed, driving needles into his mind. Make it stop! He made her stop.
Finnick took a ragged breath. His ears rang. He could still hear the screaming, even if it had stopped. He needed to find Delfina.
He ran back.
Two cannon blasts tore through the arena. Finnick held his breath for the third.
Delfina.
Colt hadn't killed her! That bastard had left her there after he'd crushed her with all his weight.
Sprawled on the ground, Delfina managed a smile when she saw him.
Finnick wanted her to smile forever. Tears blurred his vision.
"Anesthetics, can't feel a thing," Delfina said, gurgling laughter leaving her broken body. "I'm not complaining anymore, mind you."
Finnick held her tight, burying his nose into her dark hair. "I did it, I didn't catch you, I didn't waste time running after him, I got them." He hadn't even registered the driver's district number. Ten, lady Ten and Six, Marten had said. Cardinal, his name was. He'd not looked like a bad guy. Finnick swallowed. "I'm going to do this," he rasped. He tightened his hold on her, his voice shaking with grief. "I shouldn't have to do it alone. You protected me, you protected me!"
"Keep that panic for later, Finnick," Delfina said, her stern voice whipping through the air. "Mags wants her nephew back, and you'd sure look good on those Capitol posters. Leave me here," she said softly. "I'll just fall asleep, I can feel it now. Please, Finn."
"Why couldn't you be more of a bitch?" Finnick croaked, humbled by her clear-headed attitude. Even now, she fought for him. He had to prove her right. It was too late now, he'd ran out of choices. He had to prove her right!
Delfina cracked a smile. "Then you'd still be weeping but we'd not have had any fun." Her eyes widened. "Finn!" She cried weakly.
Finnick whirred. And straightened. And put his hand out, wishing the silent screaming in his mind would stop.
"Thank you for bringing me back my trident, Shani. Now hand it over, and come with me to the last two."
Not looking back at Delfina was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
Capitol
Delfina, child. You are magnificent. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Mags barely dared to breathe.
Poor Shani, Finnick had disarmed her without even trying.
A violent shiver shook Finnick when Delfina's cannon sounded. Mags felt something pierce at her heart when a moan escaped his lips. Pale and haunted, Finnick didn't look back. His green eyes blazed with a steely determination that made Mags want to take up arms and storm the Capitol by herself.
Mama, you would be so proud.
He hadn't broken. He wasn't going back. Mags was so proud of him, and she was so scared. She could only watch and wait. It was agony.
"We'll wait for him here, Shani. He'll burn before us."
Colt finally came. A solid lad, a decent man. Bruised from when Delfina had thrown him off the tractor. Haunted by loss and horror.
Mags watched him walk. Too many times had she seen this.
"Finnick," Colt called. "It's time to end this. Let's fight this, like men."
"Yes," Finnick whispered. He started slowly walking towards Colt. "Like men, you said?" He called.
"One knive, each of us. Let's end this."
"He'll never accept," Mags whispered.
Nori, Lyme and Brutus sat by her, and surprisingly, Gloss and Cashmere were also here, silent on the side.
"Yes, of course, and Shani can sit down and take bets," Finnick muttered.
Ten yards away, he made a move to lower his trident. "Victory's Herald, I called it," he said.
Finnick threw it with all his might.
Flames dancing on the metal surface, the weapon whistled through in the air. Colt grasped the hilt coming out of his stomach in shock. He fell to the side.
"My promise to Delfina, that's worth something. Your talk about fight rules and men, that means nothing to me."
"They don't care, Mags," Gloss unexpectedly said. "They've decided they want Finnick. They've decided he's nice and relatable and all the nice things. He's young, he's terribly handsome. He's on posters wearing brands. It doesn't matter how it ends."
Mags blinked. It wasn't over yet.
"Motherfuckers," Shani suddenly spat. "Give me a knife, Finn."
"No."
"Then move your ass and kill me," she said, wiping away rising tears. "Don't leave me hanging there. I'm not ten, even at ten I'd have figured out I don't stand a chance. What can I do, punch you?"
"I don't want to kill you," Finnick said, his shoulders slumping. "You've been nice."
Mags' nails dug into her flesh. No, Finnick, not now. She's no different than Paige. Finish it, quickly, before Snow and Seneca Crane find a way to break you.
Shani spluttered. "Why don't we wait for a mutt then?" She finally said, her voice thick with sarcasm and despair, turning her eyes on the low flames creeping towards them.
Arena
The air was hot in his mouth. Finnick shivered despite the heat. There was no strength left in his muscles.
"It shouldn't be you here," he said hollowly. "It should be Delfina, and we should have won, together."
"I don't make the rules," Shani snapped.
Finnick sat crouched on the ground. Delfina, it hurt. It just… the rest just didn't matter. Seconds stretched out, minutes, and soon he could only smell burning grass.
"What would you do, Shani, if you won?"
Shani turned to stare at him. She wasn't pretty, but there was something willful about her. She was tense but she had her fear under control, she always had : even when Marten had threatened her. She saw him as a person, and Finnick just couldn't force his brain to make her less of a person than any girl from Four.
"Well… I wanted to be a teacher," she said after a pause. "But, I'm too loud mouthed, can't have someone like me with the children, they said. But if I was a victor, it'd be different. I could teach, I could –"
"That's what Mags did," Finnick said, feeling sick. But it was a different kind of sick. "Build a school. She made things better."
FLASH. To give them pride and skills and make them feel safe. Finnick couldn't let that work go to waste.
"That's what you ought to do, when you have power. Make things better," Shani replied angrily. "You know, it'd be gross because he's so much older, but I hope Cecelia and Woof are at it, because then they'd be actually doing something with all that money."
Mags.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Shani?" Finnick said, standing up. Joker, that was Four's angle, was it not? He had a mother too, a father who loved him.
Who would see this.
The weakness had gone. What the Capitol thought they wanted was what Mags wanted too. How could he forget that? Even for one minute.
A ghost of a smile flitted over his lips. He'd forgotten because it was still hard, to associate Aunt Mags with bloody murder. Finnick took a last long look at Shani. Being a rebel had to be something so glorious, for Mags to be so sure it was worth this.
Shani didn't try to run, not this time.
Finnick stiffly pinned Shani down, pressing Victory's Herald against her chest. Her breathing was ragged and her eyes painfully wide.
"I promised Mags," Finnick gasped, his hands trembling. He'd promised Delfina. "and I swear, I'll do stuff."
Shani unfroze and started screaming then. "NO! Get, off -" the screams changed, worse as he pushed. He screamed too. It was no good, her voice was high, piercing through his, until his broke and they were the same.
They'd pay. They'd pay for everything they'd made him do. There would be no more Hunger Games, never again.
A huge snakelike-mutt was staring at him through red slanted eyes as Finnick pulled the trident out of Shani's limp form.
Finnick backed away. He just couldn't just stand there.
He wiped his eyes, took out his sunglasses and put them on. He wished he had a mask, or better, somewhere to hide, where they couldn't see him.
He wondered if he was supposed to say something, but he knew he'd throw up if he opened his mouth.
Capitol
Haymitch and Chaff raised their glasses in tandem when Mags' wild and unrestrained cheer reached the mess hall.
"Kid won. Good for her," Chaff said.
Haymitch had never heard such a heartwarming Fuck you directed at the Capitol. "Little old lady can shout," he said, reluctantly impressed.
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