Disclaimer: This fanfic is rated 'E' for adult themes which will come into effect later on in the story. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games or Betrothed, although I wish I did, and have taken creative liberties with respect to character traits and canon elements.

Chapter 3 – The Eternal

The disapproving stares that surrounded Katniss as she approached the dais had her on edge. With each measured step, the stern words of Lady Clove echoed through her head: 'Eyes to the floor, and follow my lead.' How must she have looked to these nobles, following behind the preening courtier like an obedient dog? Her nose wrinkled at the thought.

She was ashamed to admit, however, that to keep from tripping over the woman's excessive skirt, Katniss was forced to keep her eyes trained a few paces before her. Her strict instructions had been to make an impression but not detract from Lady Clove, who was to be the highlight of the reaping ceremony. Easier said than done.

With their mocking stares and upturned noses, the nobles had turned out for the reaping in true Capitol form. Their garish costumes clashed against the dull backdrop of the castle's weathered stones, and upon entering the courtroom, she was surprised to have blended in with the crowd. But the moment the shimmering gold cloak she was hidden beneath fell free from her shoulders, their murmurs took flight. As hard as Katniss tried to block out the whispered insults that floated around her, it could not be helped.

A low growl escaped her when stray fingers brushed along the exposed small of her back, then quickly retreated. And these people with their wandering hands and harsh words thought she was ruthless and ill-mannered? If they believed her people to be feral, she would happily prove them right.

The moment Lady Clove came to a stop before the dais, a hush fell over the crowd. Katniss pursed her lips in disgust as the woman lowered herself almost to the ground in an excessively deep bow. There was a hushed pause, and tension seeped in from all around her. From the corner of her eye, Katniss peered about the surrounding nobles, realizing it was her they were staring at. Had they expected her to bow before their Prince as well? But then Katniss looked up and froze.

The Prince…was not at all what she'd expected.

His hair was cropped short against the sides of his head but fell in ashy blond waves across his forehead. The golden crown nestled atop his head was nothing more than a simple, thick band. With pale skin and chiseled features, it was as though the best stone masons of her village had carved him from the finest marble. What caught her attention though, were his eyes, icy blue and cold as a brisk morning when the first frosts of winter arrived at the Seam. Eyes that caught hers and then narrowed, as if waiting for a response.

Despite the Prince's striking facade, she would not bow to him—not now, not ever. The people of the Seam bowed to no one, only the gods. But that did not mean she couldn't show the Prince her respect, and so Katniss dipped her chin in a measured nod. The gasps of disbelief were evidence that these people thought her actions were a show of defiance. It was too much to expect these Capitolites to know anything about the ways of her people.

Katniss inhaled a breath and held it, ready for the Prince's eyes to turn angry. His guards would descend upon her and toss her out of the palace for her insolence. But he only watched her from his throne, his handsome face a mask of indifference. He did not reprimand her as she expected; instead, he dipped his head in return, and she released a shuddering breath. She had not offended him.

The Prince sat motionless upon his throne as she continued to study him. He truly could pass for a statue, with how unaffected he was by the spectacle that was his throne room. His strong jaw was clenched in distaste, but the rest of his features? He was what she imagined the god of the moon looked like: pale, and full of masculine beauty. Even seated, she knew he was a large man, his broad shoulders caped in a deep red cloak trimmed with fur.

The crowd suddenly broke out into astonished gasps, and she tore her attention away from the Prince to see what the commotion was about. Fingers were pointing in her direction and the gaping mouths of a few of the nobles had Katniss confused. She glanced back up to the Prince, and fear crept up her spine when his mouth thinned and his brow furrowed. Had she offended him after all? Movement from the guards had her gripping the cords in her hands even tighter.

But then, a warm, tingling sensation rippled across her skin, as though a flush had overcome her. Katniss searched around with wild eyes before looking up to find a bright light approaching her from above. Frozen in fear, she could only watch as it drew closer. Only the sting of the cords biting into her hands had her finally looking back towards the dais. The Prince's face was void of emotion, but his eyes…his blue eyes flashed in alarm.

What was happening?

Her hold on the golden cords of Lady Clove's skirts loosened and fell from her grasp as the woman was swallowed into the crowd. The white light was almost blinding, having encircled her completely now. Chaos was unfolding all around her but she couldn't see what was going on. She stood as still as possible, but couldn't stop the trembling that wracked her body.

Grabbing hands fell upon her, and she whimpered in frustration as she felt the scraps that made up her costume tug and pull. Another hand brushed against her exposed back, and she was on the verge of whipping around to slap whoever had dared touch her when the guards appeared and began to push back against the crowd that had formed around her. A man with bronze hair and startling green eyes suddenly stepped in front of her, brandishing an extravagant spear. She was about to raise her hands in defense when he flashed her a wild grin and turned.

He was protecting her, she realized, and a rush of breath left her.

Moments later, the priests leading the ceremony descended upon her, forming a circle while their chanting continued. They motioned for her to approach the dais with them, but anger laced with panic had her hunching forward. More hands reached out to touch her as she passed through the crowd.

What did they want from her?

The Prince finally came into sight as she was ushered before him. He was on his feet, the white light surrounding her having spread to encase him as well.

Still staring down at her with those icy, blue eyes, the Prince lifted a hand and the courtroom finally fell silent. With that same hand, he reached out slowly. Katniss swallowed back her dread. She did not balk when his fingers laced through hers, smooth and cool to the touch, a stark contrast to her sweaty, calloused palm.

"My Eternal," he whispered, almost reverently. The low gravel of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could ask what he meant, he turned his attention to his people.

"The Goddess of Light has blessed me," he spoke, his voice loud and crisp for all to hear. "For she has granted unto me an Eternal. Light be with me, for now, and forevermore." He then raised their entwined hands to the heavens, and her arm shook with the intensity of the white light as it pulsed through her.

The moment the crowd broke into a roar, Katniss faltered. In hushed voices, the Prince was addressing the man behind them who was dressed in long, flowing robes. She assumed him to be the Prince's advisor, but the severe frown he was directing her way put her on edge.

The priests shuffled in a circle around them, and as their chanting voices rose even louder, it made her heart thump and the urge to run was great. As if sensing her desire to flee, the Prince's hold on her hand tightened, and he pulled her closer to his side.

"Let go of me," she hissed.

"Don't you dare run from me," he replied coolly.

She didn't know whether to shout or cry, but the Prince's threat had her frozen in place as her eyes darted about the courtroom. Given the chance, where could she possibly run to? Guards were stationed at every entry, and the crowd was so thick, she'd never make it through.

When the Prince leaned in again, she held her breath, prepared for another threat. "Smile please, and follow me."

The chanting suddenly came to a halt, and the crowd once again burst into cheers and shouts as the Prince finally pulled her towards an archway at the back of the dais. When they finally burst through a heavy wooden door, she pulled away from the Prince, and thank the gods, he released her.

"What was that?" she all but screamed at him. "And you say my people are savages? They were ready to tear me apart! Why?"

"Because you are my Eternal," he said flatly.

"Am I to know what that means?" The gasp from the man in the long robes had Katniss frowning.

The Prince's lips flattened, and his fixed stare on her took on an almost suspicious glint.

"You are now my betrothed. We will be married in three days and you will become a Princess of the Blood." His voice, devoid of any feeling or emotion, grated at her nerves. "You are a blessing to our people, as the promise of daughters will once again be bestowed to the Crown."

Katniss stared at him, her mouth agape, and then she laughed. He was not serious.

"That is ridiculous! You are a Capitol Prince, and I am of the Seam! I am a blessing to no one, and certainly will not be the source of royal daughters!" Eager to put space between them, she screwed her eyes shut and stepped away. "All I require is the money that was promised to me, and I will leave you and your court. I wish nothing to do with you or your betrothal or your people."

He strode closer and grabbed a firm hold on her arm. "I apologize, but that simply is not possible." Looking down, he suddenly released her and stared at the gold dust that had transferred from her skin onto his hand. "Believe me, I would like nothing more than to release you back to your village, but that is not what the goddesses have in store for us."

Katniss huffed out a frustrated breath. "I do not believe in your goddesses."

The white light still surrounding her pulsed, and a shiver ran through you.

"Are you certain of that?" the Prince mused.

Shaking her head, Katniss stepped away yet again. "My family needs me, I must return home."

"You are home, and there is still much to be done."

"No, I am not. My home is there," she seethed, motioning with a hand out toward one of the open windows. "I do not belong here. I am not of noble blood, therefore I cannot be a princess to anyone!"

"The goddesses have decreed it. Do you think any law will dispute that? In this case, the protocol does not apply to us." He cocked an eyebrow and frowned. "The sooner you accept your fate, the better it will be for all of us."

The ominous undertone of his statement had Katniss retreating another step. He followed suit, and she retreated again. The wall behind her was quickly closing in, and under his scrutinizing gaze, she stumbled over the ornate rug beneath her feet.

"Careful," he admonished, catching her by the arm again before she could fall. "The kingdom did not wait three hundred years only to have my Eternal meet an untimely end due to her poor coordination."

"My Lord," the man in the long robes interjected before Katniss could let out a frustrated scream. "It has been a long day. Perhaps your Eternal would appreciate retiring early to her chambers? We have much to discuss, and so little time for the preparations."

The Prince glared at her, but released her from his hold. Heat filled her cheeks as he produced a piece of cloth and wiped the gold dust off his hand. "Finnick," he called out, and the man who had protected her from the crowd during the ceremony appeared from behind a column.

"Your Highness," he answered, but his casual grin had her wondering who this man was to the Prince.

"See my Eternal safely to her chambers."

"It would be my honor." This man named Finnick holstered his odd-looking spear behind his back and stepped forward with a smile now directed at her.

Katniss pursed her lips. They were talking about her as though she wasn't even there. With burning eyes and her heart racing, she turned her attention from Finnick and back to the Prince.

If she was as important to the Kingdom as he claimed she was, did she not deserve even an ounce of respect? But finally given the chance to escape the madness that this night had become, Katniss bit back a cutting remark and regarded Finnick once again. Whoever he was, it was obvious the Prince trusted him.

As if sensing her reluctance, the Prince crossed his arms and released a heavy sigh. "Finnick is my personal guard and will protect you with his life. No one would dare harm you, and if they should try, Finnick would gladly bring me their head. Isn't that right?"

"Aye, Your Highness."

Somewhat placated yet slightly horrified by the man's violent dedication to her safety, Katniss relented with a nod. "Well then, if it wouldn't be too much to ask, I would appreciate something to cover myself before I am shown to my room."

The Prince surveyed her from head to toe before reaching up to unclasp the fur-trimmed cloak about his broad shoulders. His steps were unhurried as he approached and gently wrapped the garment around her body.

It was heavy and twice the size of her, but it was warm and plush against her exposed skin. When she inhaled, the exotic scent of cinnamon and something else that she could not quite place assaulted her senses. It was pleasant, and despite her ire towards him, she breathed the calming scent in again as the tension in her body slowly began to recede.

She lifted her chin as he tightened the clasp that rested at the hollow of her throat. But then he stilled, unmoving as he stared at that spot along her neck for an inordinate amount of time. The clearing of his advisor's throat finally gained his attention and the Price shook his head, as though waking from a sleepless dream.

The Prince looked to Finnick. "Once she is secure in her room, have a tray brought up to her." His eyes found hers once more. "She will need the strength for what is to come."

"You must have questions," Finnick said as he escorted her through the twists and turns of the thankfully desolate hallways. They were in a wing of the castle she'd never been before, which was not saying much considering her limited access while in the service of Lady Clove.

Of course she had questions. So many she couldn't think straight. The most burning question of all was, why? Why was this happening to her? And what was going to happen to her? She needed to return home. She had assured Prim that she would only be gone for a week, what would they think when she didn't return as expected? What would Gale think?

This farce had gone on long enough. She would speak to the Prince tomorrow, demand her payment from Lady Clove, and then be on her way. And if he protested? Well, then she would find her own way out of this damned castle.

If she was to make a valid plea to the Prince, however, it would be wise to know the kind of man she was dealing with. All she had to go on so far was that he was a cold and emotionless royal who was a stickler for rules and the decree of their goddesses. If what he'd said was true, they were both in this unfortunate situation that neither wanted to be in. Surely they could figure things out and come to an understanding.

And who better to inform her about the Prince than his personal guard? But still wary of his true intentions, Katniss was hesitant to interact with this man. Yes, he had been tasked with guarding her, but he was in the service of the Prince. And most likely his eyes and ears were, as well.

As if reading the uncertainly on her face, Finnick sighed. "This all must be very strange to you, and given that your entire world has been altered in a single evening…well, I must commend you, my Lady, for your composure."

Katniss wrinkled her nose. "I am not a lady."

Her escort just smiled. "I suppose you have me there, but in three days, I'll be calling you 'Princess', which you will be."

"I will not be that either, no matter what your Capitol customs dictate for my future."

"We shall see, my Lady. But you should know I am not from the Capitol."

Katniss turned to study him. Although he was dressed in the uniform of a Capitol guard—albeit there were slight differences now that she looked closer—he did seem to carry himself in a manner that was different than the other guards. "Then where are you from?"

"The Fourth Realm. Have you been?"

Katniss snorted. "Of course not. I have never left the Seam, let alone the Twelfth Realm."

"It is vastly different from here. My village is on the coast, so it wouldn't be a stretch to say that I was born and raised with seawater in my veins."

"How is it then that you came to be in the service of the Prince?"

"Well, to know that, I must tell you a story."

He paused at a bench in front of one of the many ornate stained glass windows that lined the hallway. She had never seen anything quite like them until coming to the palace, and they were beautiful when the early morning or early evening light filtered through the mass of colors.

Finnick gestured for her to take a seat, which she did after gathering the excessive material of the Prince's cloak around her.

"When we were children, I was His Highness's appointed playfellow. My mother, who was at the time working in the King's palace in the Fourth Realm, was His Highness's wet nurse. You see, his mother died in childbirth, and it just so happened my younger brother had been born around the same time.

"Sadly, he was born too soon and did not survive. I believe His Highness helped my mother through the worst of the darkness that followed, and since neither of the King's other mistresses had the desire to raise him as their own, His Highness was left to spend the better part of his childhood in the Fourth Realm with us.

"His brothers, Prince Rilen and Prince Graeme, were already much older and had started their training in the Capitol in the ways that future rulers do. It wasn't until His Highness reached the age of twelve that he was finally summoned to join his father in the Capitol. But before then, we had grown close, as close as brothers. Upon his eighteenth birthday, he summoned me to the Capitol and asked me to lead his personal guard."

"What was the Prince like as a boy?" Katniss asked, curious as she drew the edges of the Prince's cloak tighter around her body.

She had a hard time imagining the Prince as a child, but if what Finnick was saying was to be believed, then what a sad start he'd had to his life.

"He was always the clever one, but quiet, while I was the one who went along with whatever scheme he dreamed up." Finnick laughed and she couldn't help but smile despite her indifference to the Prince. "He was always the good one."

"Good? In what sense?"

"Whenever the King came to visit His Highness in the Fourth Realm, much of the court would join him, and the little Prince was always doted on by the courtiers. They would fawn over his kind manners and courteous nature. At the time, I never understood why the King's mistresses were so cold and unkind to him.

"As a child, he always thought before he spoke and always went out of his way to resolve a disagreement or come to a decision that did not result in bloodshed. Unlike Prince Rilen, who would go headfirst into anything with his firsts swinging, only to ask questions afterward.

"But you should know, to bear the weight of the crown, one must learn to wear two faces. One that the world sees, and the other, well, only a few are lucky to see it."

If this story was meant to make her view the Prince as a royal with feelings, she had her doubts. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I would have to be blind not to see your reservations with the Prince, but I feel you must know the type of man you are to marry."

Katniss frowned. She had no intentions of marrying anyone, let alone a Prince. It was ridiculous. His very words were that he wished for nothing more than to send her back to her village and be rid of her. Not the words of a man who was eager for a wife.

"He is the finest of men," Finnick continued, "one of the best, and I only wish for you to understand him. He will treat you with the utmost respect, regardless of how the rest of the court may see you. The goddesses have chosen well for you."

The man had given Katniss much to think about, and so she was quiet as he helped her to her feet and they continued down the long hallway. They stopped at an ornate door, and it dawned on her that she had no idea in which part of the castle they were. It was certainly not the maid's wing.

Finnick followed her into the dimly lit room, and after a quick inspection of the bedchamber and what had to be other adjoining rooms, he nodded. A tray with a selection of bread, cheese, and cold meats was already waiting for her; she didn't waste any time stuffing a buttery roll into her mouth, barely chewing before chasing it down with a hunk of cheese. Finnick only smiled at her ill manners before showing himself to the door.

"Good day to you, my Lady." Then he shut the door gently behind him, and she was finally alone.

Katniss swallowed thickly, then looked out the windows to the pitch-black sky. "It's the middle of the night."

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed the events of the reaping from Katniss's POV and how things are progressing. Lots of conflicting emotions from both sides now that they've found themselves in this situation thanks to the goddesses.

Special thanks to my beta team, Louezem and deinde-prandium, who have helped to keep me motivated with this story and their sage advice! Any mistakes your find are all mine.

Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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