For the next few days, Hebe felt like she was glowing with happiness. Every morning she woke up with a smile on her face as she looked at the orchid from Mags sitting on her coffee table. She was certain nothing could get her down, not even having to read the drivel Ambrosia came up with.
Her reading of the speeches definitely improved, and now she was able to get through it without wanting to toss the cards away and insist she didn't believe any of it. At points she even sounded enthused by the speeches.
The Districts had definitely been disappointed by the fact she hadn't continued making speeches like she had in 11. Not that she thought her speech there was particularly moving or motivational, but nonetheless she felt guilty about it. But what was she supposed to do?
Of course, it was easier to push her way through Ambrosia's cue cards when she didn't have any relation to the other tributes. She hadn't known any of their names, barely recognising the faces that were projected onto the screens.
However, the bliss of ignoring the fact that anyone suffered in the games wouldn't last for much longer, and Hebe knew it would be entirely shattered by the time she got to District 3, the first District where she was responsible for a tributes death.
Then it was 2, where there would certainly be some mixed opinions about her, as well as the fact she would have to confront her allies face on that board.
And finally it was 1, where they would hate her too. She had killed Verity, and couldn't exactly pretend to hold any love for Augustus after he slaughtered her district partner. Hebe would be surprised if they didn't boo her off the stage.
Then the touring part was over and she was resigned to wait out her fate in the Capitol, the lingering threat of Snow's promise hanging over her like some kind of deadly fog, waiting to pull her into its embrace.
Yet, she was resigned to her fate. She had no choice, she had been set on this path (unknowingly of course) from the moment she raised her hand at the reaping. Snow was always going to get her to do something for him, she should be glad he hadn't concocted some other evil scheme to destroy her.
There was one positive of going to the Capitol of course, and that was her performance. She felt guilty for being so excited about it, well aware that she shouldn't be happy about celebrating other children's deaths, but she couldn't help herself. It had been Hebe's dream since she was a child to play in the Capitol. Before she found out it was impossible, she had once wanted to move there and become part of one of the many orchestras they had there. This dream was crushed when she was around 9, but a small part of her had been relit when she remembered about her need for a talent outside of killing.
The gift Finnick had given her didn't help either. It was truly a beautiful thing, lovingly carved and engraved. She couldn't believe it was made entirely by hand. Even the shoulder rest was hand sewn, and the rosin wrapped in beautiful velvety fabric.
It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her. To be honest, (aside from the orchid) it was the first gift she had received in a long time. Not that Annie and her mother didn't try to buy her things, but she always insisted that she didn't want anything. She'd never really understood the point. From Hebe's perspective, they were too expensive, and half of the time you never ended up with something you really wanted. It was a waste of time and money for her to get presents, although strangely this sentiment didn't apply when it was gifts for other people.
But when she opened that case and saw what was inside, she suddenly understood why people like gifts so much. He listened to her talk about something she loved and enjoyed, and bought her something that would bring her joy in turn, not just something to show off to other people. No, it was personal, and that was why it mattered.
Hebe lay in bed as the train rolled away from District 5 and towards District 3, the place where the challenges of her tour would really start. For now it had just been wearing stupid garish outfits and waving at malnourished people who she'd really like to donate some of her wealth to. Not exactly a fun experience, but not quite the same as having to justify slaughtering a child in front of their parents and entire community.
But no matter how much she was dreading the next few days, Hebe was trying to stay strong. After all, it was only for about another week and then she would be back home again until the next games (apart from the trips to the Capitol that she was certain Snow would force her on).
She was about to finally doze off, when she suddenly heard what she thought to be a gasp of pain. Her eyes shot open, the survival instinct still remaining from the games automatically kicking in. She sat up slowly, straining her ears to try and hear what was happening. Then it came again, this time it was a loud sob followed by several heaving breaths.
It came from the room next door. Finnick's room. Hebe jolted slightly as she realised. Should she do something? She thought that was probably the right thing to do, to check up on her friend, but she didn't want to overstep. She wasn't sure if she'd want someone bursting into her room during a nightmare.
Hebe lay back in bed, suddenly not able to sleep. She lay on her back for a while, staring up at the ceiling, almost like she was waiting for something to happen. Then, right when she was about to give up and try and go back to bed, an ear piercing scream filtered in through the wall.
She immediately leapt out of bed, barely even thinking about what she was doing, and running out the door, sprinting a few steps down the corridor, and sliding open the door to Finnick's room.
He was sitting up in bed, panting and wide-eyed, looking at her as if she wasn't real. Sweat had leaked through his shirt and it clung to him like he'd just been pulled from the sea back home.
"Are you ok?" She asked quietly, looking at him with concern in her eyes.
He continued to stare at her, entirely unmoving apart from the frantic up and down movement of his chest.
"Hebe? How are you- What are you- What's going on?" He asked, his voice hoarse and detached. She had never seen him like this before, he looked so vulnerable. It reminded her of the Finnick she saw in her dreams, how he looked so young and scared.
"You, uh, you had a nightmare, and you screamed, so I came to check on you…" She looked down at her feet sheepishly, feeling slightly ill at ease, like she'd done something wrong.
Finnick didn't say anything, didn't make a noise, and it certainly wasn't helping Hebe's mounting discomfort. She then decided it was time to backtrack, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burst in here, I'll go, see you tomorrow."
She turned around and began to make a break for the door when he shouted after her to wait.
"Please. Please don't leave," He said, his voice cracking, his hand gripping onto his bedsheets in distress. She could just make out his expression in the dim lighting, and it was one she had never seen before. The fear in his eyes, in the eyes of someone usually so confident, had her own heart cracking.
"Ok." Was all she could muster. She walked slowly towards his bed, and he shuffled to the side to let her sit next to him. It was so strange. It was like he was a totally different person, so totally paralysed by fear.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, following his thousand yard stare to the end of the bed.
"I guess," His voice was still hoarse, like his throat had been ripped by his scream, "They kept trying to grab me. I was trying to run away but they grabbed me and they wouldn't let go," His voice broke again, and he let out a small sob.
"They?"
"The Capitol. They had me, Hebe. And they were trying to take you too. And Mags. And everyone."
He finally broke down into uncontrollable sobbing, burying his face into her shoulder. She immediately leaned her body into him in return, placing a hand on the back of his head like her mother did to her when she would cry. She gently massaged his scalp, feeling his soft hair between her fingers.
Her heart swelled with sorrow at the sight, the sight of this boy who held the world on his shoulders breaking down in front of her, and there was nothing she could do but desperately try to soothe his cries.
Finnick wrapped his arms around her slowly, but as soon as he had he clutched onto her like she was a life buoy in a stormy ocean, his last ditch effort to not drown in the sea of emotion overtaking him.
Hebe didn't flinch, returning the hug with equal vigour to remind him that she was here, she was real, and she wasn't going anywhere, just as he had done for her so many times before. She quietly whispered to him to tell him this, to tell him that they weren't going to take him away, that she wouldn't let them. And she knew it was true. She would stop at nothing to make sure he was safe, and as far away from the clutches of the Capitol as they could get.
"Do you wanna try and get some sleep?" She asked softly, knowing that, despite how counterintuitive it may seem, sleeping it off would be the only way he could overcome this right now. In her experience, everything was always better in the morning.
"Promise me you won't leave?" He asked, looking up at her. It was a look she recognised, one that she had received from her mother when she was slipping into delirium. Sometimes the pain had gotten so great that reality had just slipped away for her. She didn't want that to happen to Finnick.
"I promise. I'll stay with you," They both leaned back, still cocooned in eachothers arms, his head laying on her chest, "Listen to my heartbeat. I'm real. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
They lay there for a few minutes, before she felt his breathing begin to slow, until she was entirely certain the boy in her arms was fast asleep. She prayed for him to be free of nightmares for the rest of the night, before closing her eyes and following him into the darkness.
When Hebe awoke the next morning after a thankfully dreamless sleep, she found herself slightly startled by the pressure of someone else beside her. She looked down, spotting a blonde head resting on her shoulder. Finnick's head. Then the events of the night before came rushing back to her and she sighed in relief, laying her own head back onto the pillow.
She must've startled him also, as only seconds later he was jolting upwards, staring at her in confusion, before his memories came back and he sank back down under the blankets.
"Sorry for waking you up."
"It's fine. I think that's the best night's sleep I've had in a while…" He laughed quietly, Hebe feeling the movement of his chest on hers.
"Me too." She admitted, because it was true. She didn't think she had had an entirely peaceful night's sleep since even before the games, "Uh, I should probably get going, y'know, before Ambrosia notices I'm gone…" She said, despite the fact she was reluctant to leave.
"Oh, yeah, of course," He said, sitting up so she could get out from underneath him. Hebe didn't think she'd ever seen Finnick look awkward. She had half-expected him to be firing out innuendos left right and centre.
She climbed out of the bed into the coldness of the rest of the room, and had to resist the more self-indulgent part of her that wanted to jump back into bed and sleep for a hundred years. She straightened her pyjama trousers and ran a hand through her hair, before starting to walk towards the door. But just like the night before, Finnick called out to her.
"Thank you. For being… there for me. I appreciate it."
"You do the same for me all the time. It was the least I could do to return the favour." She mumbled, looking down at the floor.
"I know, but still, thank you. And of course, you know my door's always open." He smiled softly at her, gratitude shining in his eyes, and she could tell he really meant it.
"And vice versa." She nodded to him and turned back around, just about to slide the door to the side when he spoke again.
"Oh, and Hebe?"
"Yes?"
"Don't go boasting that you got to spend the night with me." His stupid smirk was back on his face, and he threw her a coy wink.
She sighed fondly, "You ruined the moment Odair. Your head really is going to explode from that ego one day."
He grinned at her one last time as she rolled her eyes, stepping out into the empty train carriage and darting back into her own compartment, hoping that no one had noticed anything.
Of course, it was later on, when she was able to be alone with her thoughts that Hebe finally realised the gravity of what she had done. She slumped down in the shower, holding her head in her hands and trying to make sense of the mess of emotions swirling in her mind and in her gut.
Was what she had done wrong? She was comforting her friend, after his nightmare, just like he had done for her time and time again. So why did the thought of people knowing they spent the night together fill her with dread?
And then it hit her. Snow. He had warned her against them getting too close. Was this what he had meant? Had this happened with other tributes before, they got too close to their mentors and it kept them from doing their jobs, the jobs he had set out for them? He had mentioned remaining professional, and she was sure people in the Capitol wouldn't be happy to hear their two pieces of produce were spending so much time together.
Yet, whilst public knowledge of these 'events' did make her nauseous, the feeling she had had whilst they were in each other's arms… it was a sense of completion that she hadn't known for years. Hebe had been comforted by the fact she could protect him in that moment, like she was a brick wall between Finnick and all those that wished to harm him. It made her happy in turn, knowing that they had one another.
Hebe shook her head firmly, standing to switch off the shower, stepping out and drying herself slowly with a towel. She couldn't allow herself to be so wrapped up in her mentor. It wouldn't do either of them any good. For now, it just had to be about taking each day as it comes, and trying her best to survive.
The people of District 3, quite understandably, hated her. They hated her for winning and they hated her for killing Lilac. They hated her for spewing Capitol propaganda, so blinded by their hatred that they probably thought she meant every word she said. And she couldn't blame them.
If she was in their position, starving, beaten, suffering constantly, trying to recover from the loss of your friend or your sister or your brother or your cousin, she'd probably find someone to blame for that. And then suddenly some random girl from District 4 shows up, and she was the one who thrust her axe into your daughter's rib cage. Hebe wasn't sure she'd be able to control her hatred.
But 3 wasn't a career district. They didn't have that will to fight, the thirst for power and glory that Finnick Odair's victory had reinstated. Instead they quietly scowled, glaring at her through deeply furrowed eyebrows.
Hebe surveyed them all, her hands twitching in nervousness, the ridiculousness of her outfit not helping her anxiety whatsoever. She was in a metallic dress, the edges of the material distressed to look like the garment had rusted and corroded. It was a boxy shape, stopping at her mid thigh so she looked like a shining big lampshade.
Tigris had apologised profusely for it, saying that it had been mostly Estella's doing, the stylist who would be replacing her as the female stylist for 4. She was required to collaborate with Tigris on at least one look for the victory tour, and unfortunately this was the district they had chosen. Why couldn't it have been 11, they loved her there…
She shook her head almost imperceptibly, mentally preparing herself for her speech. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to exactly follow Ambrosia's speech, after all it wasn't exactly very apologetic. But, she didn't want to 'defy' Snow too much, and she did have District 2 coming up next.
But before she could ponder the issue any further, the child appeared in front of her holding the Districts pin, looking wearily up at the girl. She carved her grin into her face, accepting the gift in a soft voice. Hebe so desperately wanted to prove to them that she wasn't who she thought she was, she wasn't the typical career they hated so much.
She wanted to scream at the crowd who was glaring at her as she stepped forward in her stupid frumpy dress, scream at them and tell them she had no choice, plead her case until her throat was red and raw. But instead, she would have to make this stupid speech justifying the fact she shoved her axe into the little girl's chest.
"People of District 3! I am honoured to be here today in your beautiful city, I have heard so much about kind people here and it is a great pleasure to be in your district today."
They kept glaring at her, and she kept her gaze away from the boards showing the fallen tributes and their families, certain she wouldn't be able to stop herself if she looked at their family's faces.
"The occasion for which I am here today is both a happy and sad one. I'm happy to share my victory with you all, the victory that was forged in the crucible of the games. However, I also wish to share with you the sorrows of all our losses. Whilst I cannot personally speak for Ampere, I did come into contact with Lilac during the games. It is due to me that she died. I killed her. And for that, I cannot apologise enough."
She looked back down at her cards, scrambling to find a point where she could continue with her Capitol drivel.
"But, I believe that loss and sorrow breeds strength, and it was this strength that I believe to be…" She continued with her speech, hardly looking up from her cards the entire, the guilt becoming almost too much for her.
"Thank you. Uh.. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever." She looked up at last, hoping that maybe they wouldn't still be scowling at her, but their faces seemed even more stoney than before.
She walked slowly back to her spot beside the mayor, praying that the seconds until she could walk off the stage entirely would hurry up and pass. Hebe felt her hands shake slightly as the mayor passed her the large plaque with her name engraved on it, underneath all the other victors.
She smiled for the photo, hurriedly passing it off and bowing, before the mayor concluded the ceremony and she was escorted away.
As soon as she was away from the crowds she quickened the pace of her steps, until she was practically jogging towards her team.
Ambrosia clapped encouragingly, the rest of them doing the same, reassuring her that she did great. She may not like the people of the Capitol all the time, but Hebe had to admit they could be sweet when they realised the gravity of a situation, however rare that may be.
Mags came forward as they all greeted one another, holding the girl's hands tightly in her own. Hebe looked down at the old woman's kind eyes. Clearly today wasn't a good day for speaking, so Mags tried to convey her emotions through actions instead, nodding slowly at her tribute. Hebe nodded back at her, releasing her hands to wrap her in a tight hug.
"Thank you," She whispered softly before Ambrosia dragged her away to get ready for yet another soulless party.
The 'party' in District 3 was perhaps the most sorrowful one yet. They were supposed to be thrown in her honour, but that was difficult when those throwing the party despised her. But she knew she couldn't blame them so she didn't take it personally. Instead she sat alone at a table in the corner, pushing food around her plate and trying to settle all of her stupid skirts into a comfortable position.
She hadn't been approached once. And she was grateful for it. Normally there would be at least one or two people congratulating her or commending her performance, but tonight, nothing. She was left to her own thoughts.
But, as per usual, one person came to interrupt said thoughts.
"You look like a lampshade."
She didn't reply, sticking her middle finger up at the speaker with the hand that wasn't resting beneath her chin.
"Harsh. You break my heart everyday, you know that?"
Hebe didn't respond, instead looking up at Finnick and offering him a shrug.
He leaned in closer and whispered, "I was about to say you look like a very beautiful lampshade."
She barked out a laugh at that, sitting back in her chair as he scooted his closer to her.
"You're so kind to me."
"I know I am." He replied, that same smirk he always wore crossing his face, before it dropped and his expression grew more serious, "You did well. It was a tricky situation, and I think you handled it perfectly."
"Yeah? I think you're the only one," She snorted, holding a hand out to the rest of the party.
"Maybe. But you shouldn't care what they think of us anyway. Nobody understands until they're in the games."
She couldn't argue with that. She hadn't understood before the games, she hadn't understood any of it. She had no idea what she was signing up for when she raised her hand.
"Do you think the victors will understand?" She asked quietly, shivering at the thought of having to face the people that had mentored the girl she killed.
"From 3? Yes, I think they will. They're strange, but I think they're good people. From 1 and 2?" Finnick laughed darkly, "No. They won't."
"Well that's to be expected. After all, I'm the 'Career Killer'" She parroted the name they had given her in Capitol after her games. She had had no idea until a few days ago when she saw a magazine calling her that on the coffee table.
Finnick flinched slightly, "I didn't realise you knew about that."
Hebe shrugged, "It's not a problem. It's not like it's a lie."
"Still. It's not right." He said firmly, staring at the table with harsh eyes.
"There are worse things to be called," She remarked softly, thinking of the tabloids branding Finnick as the Capitol whore, the people in four who called him the Capitol slut. Yes, there were more people who loved him and worshipped him, but there were still some, in both the Capitol and in four, that despised him and everything he 'stood for'.
"Yes, I suppose there are…"
Hebe stood awkwardly behind her mentors as they greeted the only two surviving victors of district 3, both of whom were in their late 30s or early 40s. There had been an older victor from 3 who had died a few years before, apparently they were one of the first to win.
Mags greeted them as warmly as she could whilst being non-verbal, and Finnick shaking their hands. Hebe then stepped forward, saying a quiet hello.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Beetee, this is Wiress," The man spoke quickly, and had an almost clinical way about him, but his tone wasn't unkind. Wiress also greeted Hebe nervously, not saying more than a few words of hello, letting Beetee do most of the talking for her.
Wiress was known to be one of the Victors who had gone a bit mad after her games, her mind not being able to take the mental stress of the horrors she saw. Not that Hebe could blame her for that, but it was still sad. She couldn't imagine watching someone you love falling apart in such a way.
They proceeded to the dining room, making small talk and smiling for the photos whilst they drank tea together. Almost as soon as the photos were done, Ambrosia walked in from outside, declaring it was time for them to go.
They all walked back to the front door together, but this time, after Finnick and Mags were out of the door, she decided to 'clear her conscience' so to speak.
"I'm really sorry." She said, not bothering to give any other context.
They both looked slightly confused for a moment, before clocking onto what she meant.
"Not your fault. Survival." Wiress said quietly, Beetee nodding beside her.
"We understand. We don't dislike you for what you did in the games, it was purely about surviving. However, thank you for the apology."
Hebe nodded at them both, sighing a bit in relief at their understanding, before jogging back to her mentors. Of course Finnick had been right about them. That bastard was always right about everything.