CHAPTER 54

Diplomatic Fight

The newly married couple attracted the night's attention, bathing in the spotlight while others faded into the background. Angelique and Annie Hanley Cresta twirled mindlessly at the centre of Twelve Refugee's harmonic dance. The Mockingjay stood forgotten at the sidelines, mingling with the crowd that couldn't spare a moment to gossip, while her face glowed with delight at the scene. Navin was no different. Not one person cared for who they were. It hardly crossed anybody's mind throughout the dancing and the drinking—though Piscia had sworn there wasn't a single drop of alcohol in them—that the so-called figure of the rebellion laughed and danced around like any other child.

Though she had her fair amount of dancing and drinking, Navin sat alone on the outskirts of the potted trees' area. Katniss had been a constant company after Theo had dragged Finnick to the dance floor by the collar of his grey suit. Still, she had gone away at Johanna's call to 'shove some good fun times in Snow's face', and hadn't returned since.

Soft squeaking brought an eager silence over to the wedding hall. Plutarch was quick to snatch the spotlight away for himself. He cleared his throat and smiled widely, motioning to the enormous cake that had needed four people to bring it in. The guests crowded around it, admiring a tower of the greatest, and likely, the first cake they had seen for a long time. Plutarch didn't specify, nor did anybody dare to claim the endless praises as their own, but Navin could tell the cake was no District Thirteen's work. The astonishment present plastered on Katniss's face spoke for itself. Despite everything, Peeta had to have a hand in the cake's result. It was unlikely that he was the sole baker, but more than probable that the white-tipped icing carried the strokes of his good old heart. She couldn't imagine anyone else including fire lilies among other decorations for a clearly sea-related District Four couple's wedding cake.

"Go on!" Plutarch beamed happily at Annie and Angel. "Cut the cake."

Angel's sight inspected the cake, her eyebrows threatening to become one at the absurdity of the order. "How?"

A large spoon would have cut the cake better than the knife the Thirteen workers gave her. Annie had a good laugh about it, surely saving the propos with her lighthearted jokes. The couple was delightful to gawk at. From their shyness at the close recording of them feeding each other the first spoon to a chaos of kisses and laughter, havoc would have to break loose to ruin their perfect moment.

The prospect of enjoying a mouthwatering delicacy like a slice of the most extraordinary cake Thirteen could lay their hands on was not worth the overwhelming fear of being dragged onto the dance floor. To say that her and Finnick's dance moves had been anything less than unforgettable, and the worst of the night, would be an understatement. His pretty face could wipe everyone's minds from his disastrous display, but she hardly doubted that such an advantage could fall in her favour. Johanna had laughed at her lungs' capacity when they stepped down. Thankfully, Theo didn't discriminate on who to drag around, unknowingly blessing his sister's sight with their friend's poor dancing skills.

"Fear not," said Finnick, marching over to her with a small plate which he somehow got to fit two large slices of cake. "Cake's here."

"Great," Navin replied absentmindedly. "And I didn't even have to dance for it. Even better."

"Bored already?" Finnick sat down next to her, leaving a brief distance between them to place the plate. "I get that it's an odd sort of fancy wedding, but I'd say Katniss' people make it worth remembering beyond Annie and Angel being all over one another."

Navin twirled the plate, but found no spoons to eat the cake with. "Were we like them?"

"Hmm?" Finnick handed her a spoon before he could process her question. "I'm not the right person to say if we were or were not all over each other, but we were definitely happy."

She had to stop halfway through a mouthful of indeed delicious cake to ask, "Happy enough to marry abruptly without telling no one?"

"No, happiness had nothing to do with that." Finnick's sight fell. "It was me being a coward."

That took Navin aback. "What do you mean?"

"I knew you would forget me," said Finnick. "You have to understand, Navin. We were going back to the source of your worst nightmares. Having the slightest hope that you wouldn't forget… would be naïve. So I got down on one knee and convinced myself that not telling anyone would be better, in case I died."

"Then, if you died, and I forgot, nobody would know?" Navin asked, confused beyond words. "Why? Why wouldn't you want me to know I married you?"

"It would feel like if you had married a ghost," Finnick said calmly. "Back then, I thought I'd have to save you from those shackles. Knowing you, it would have taken an eternity before you gave a shot at moving on."

"Moving on?" She left the spoon on the plate, eyebrows raised in astonishment, and laughed drily. "That's a poor excuse to give to your wife, whom, may I remind you, might have forgotten you many times, but has chosen you just as many. I'm not the old Navin, not Olive, and I'm distancing myself from Livia or Liv, whatever her name was, and my feelings are a blurry mess right now, but I'm confident I will choose you. An amnesiac's opinion might not count for much, but I'd say if someone's had this many chances to fall in love with someone else and they haven't taken them, it could mean they've found their soulmate."

"You don't believe in soulmates." Finnick chuckled.

Navin turned to him with a harsh look present on her so-far radiant face. "I'm trying to be romantic here. Shut up."

"I can't. You see? It's an innate soulmate characteristic," replied Finnick.

Unfit to argue, Navin tried to make the most of it and leaned her head on his shoulder, her face softening the longer their eyes held each other's longing gazes. "Want to know another one of those? Sharing cake."

Finnick yanked the plate out of the way and left it next to him, away from his wife."You just made that up."

"I didn't!" she exclaimed, reaching past him to grab the plate while failing to realise the lacking distance between them.

Their foreheads gently pressed together, their noses coming into contact soon after. They locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around them, completely absorbed in each other. Finnick leaned back, jolting them out of their daze and causing their eyes to blink.

"We should go back," he said, handing her the plate without a fight and getting up right away.

"What? No," she replied. "Finnick, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to do this to you." He stepped back and folded his arms. "No matter how much I want to. Kissing you, when you're still confused, is just wrong."

"Damn you, Odair." Navin pulled him down by the collar of his suit and forced their eyes to lock once more. "Be a little more selfish. That's all I ask from you. Was the time you gave me to clear my mind needed? Very much, thank you for that. Right now? I hate this distance. Whether I remember it or not, if Thirteen acknowledges it or not, you are my husband."

"What we had can hardly be called a wedding," said Finnick.

"I'm sure what Coin suggested for Annie's and Angel's wedding was way worse," Navin joked, smiling sadly. "At least we said our vows instead of filling up a couple of papers and calling it a day."

Despite her assurance, Finnick remained stubborn. "We were right next to your mother's grave."

"From what I heard, you couldn't have chosen a better place for your and Olive's wedding if you tried."

"Actually, she wanted a wedding by the sea. Just family and friends. Nobody else."

Navin shook her head. "Her grandparents' grave, then? Olive wasn't much better than you at picking a spot for her wedding."

Finnick stared at her, astonished. "How do you…? Did Theo tell you?"

"As if I could ask such a thing without striking a nerve," said Navin. "No, I think… I didn't remember, but… it's hard to explain. My nightmares aren't helping. It's hard to tell what's made up, a dream, or something I should consider a memory."

"Then ask," Finnick replied.

"Theo looked as if he'd cry when I asked about our mother." Navin sighed. "I can't do that to them. This entire war is enough. No need for me to open the closing wounds."

"You can always come to me." He took her hands in his own, squeezing them with great care. "After all, I'm still your husband, aren't I?"

"Of course." She smiled. "Though, once it all settles down, and we're, you know, I'd like to have another wedding. A proper one this time. Whenever, wherever, but with our family there."

As the clock struck midnight, the people of Thirteen dispersed, their footsteps fading into the silence of the night. Although they hadn't been officially dismissed, the quiet murmurs and shuffling of feet announced it was time for everyone to retire for the night. The day ahead would be extraordinarily mundane, leaving everyone to require a decent night of sleep to attend to their duties properly.

Mrs Everdeen appeared from the shadows, claiming that Theo and Navin had to be escorted back to the hospital wing. Had it been no more than a few hours ago, Navin would have complied without causing much trouble. However, she denied orders and marched over with her family, while bringing Theo along, to spend 'some quality time'. The night was young for those 'mentally disorientated', and would use it up chatting for as long as their eyes could remain open.

With each passing day, the doctors grew more resigned to the fact that the 'absurd nonconformist' would not be returning to the hospital wing. To maintain some semblance of control, they settled on allowing daily visits for Navin. She attended diligently, only to count the hours until her release.

Often somebody would wait outside the hospital wing for her. However, on her seventh visit, there was no one to be found anywhere in the hallway. She wandered through the infinite twists and staircases within the underground district and found herself unsurprisingly lost soon enough. The hallways had grown wider and quieter, devoid of a single indication or a person to guide her.

"Navin?" Peeta sat with his back against a corner's wall, his voice was soft yet desperate, much too similar to her hiding times with Annie. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," she replied. "Bet that didn't stop you. Now. What's going on now?"

Peeta pulled her down and motioned over to the hallway past the corner. "Minnie was acting weird. Figured it'd have to do with either Katniss or your family."

"So you followed them here?" Navin asked.

"They got through those doors," he said, pointing at two heavy metal doors that had been slightly ajar. "Heard something about a squad departing to the Capitol. Squad 451, the Star Squad. They're all in it."

"Annie?"

"No. Not her. Theo and Gianna talked her out of it before going in. Didn't work. A soldier under Coin's orders approached her. She's off to medic training."

With fear gripping her heart, Navin mustered the bravery to sneak closer to the door, Peeta following suit with unwavering determination. As they peeked through the door, a mesmerising hologram that showcased a vibrant Capitol area greeted them with an array of coloured dots creating an odd atmosphere.

"Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you," explained Boggs, 451 squad's colonel.

A feeling of emptiness washed over Navin as she exhaled. The hologram didn't showcase an everyday Capitol area. Its street, plagued with dots of every colour, could only resemble what any victor, knowledgeable or not, could identify at first glance. The arena for a greater, far bloodier Hunger Games had been laid out for the rebels to carry on with their duty, making a spectacle of their deaths.

"They don't know we have it. But even so, it's likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face." Boggs concluded.

Three silhouettes left their standard spots to march over to the hologram, standing idly in front of it before one of them spoke, revealing to be Finnick. "Ladies and gentlemen…"

Another carried on where he had stopped, announcing loudly, "Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!" before Navin could blink her surprise away at Katniss's odd-fitting laughter. "I don't even know why you bothered to put us through training, Plutarch."

"Yeah, we're already the three best-equipped soldiers you have," added Finnick. "No offence, Theo, Gianna."

"Ah, no. I'll take offence, thank you very much. How dare you call Johanna a best-quipped soldier before me?" replied Theo, his hurt tone no better than Katniss' acting skills.

"Do not think that fact escapes me," Plutarch answered impatiently, ignoring the non-victor entirely. "Now, back in line, soldiers. I have a presentation to finish."

Navin pulled away from the door, her back pressed against the wall. Peeta had long since lost himself in the confines of his waking nightmares. His nails dug into his grey suit, no restraint present, while his chest hurried to match his racing breaths.

"Let's go. Please. Let's get out of here," he whispered, leading Navin to grab a hold of his trembling hand and dash to the closest empty room, the Hummingbird room.

Unfortunately, their feet were glued to the floor at the first turn. Despite being hidden behind the corner to the Hummingbird's room, Peeta and Navin could hear everything that happened outside of Command, as the soldiers called it.

"What will I tell Navin?" Finnick mumbled.

"Nothing," replied Katniss right away. "That's what my mother and sister will be hearing from me."

"But, if she sees that holograph—" Finnick began, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

"She won't. It's classified information," said Katniss, losing her confidence as time went on. "It must be."

"Besides, imagine the heart attack we would give her," added Gianna. "Not just her. Dad. Annie. Angel. They'd faint."

"Exactly. Nobody will hear it from us either," said Theo.

"Either way, she won't be hearing about this," replied Johanna. "Doubt anybody would with her being the amnesiac and all. Not to mention all those times she's got in serious trouble for going against the rules. Yeah, no need to worry about Navin finding out."

"Anyway," said Katniss with a soft sigh, "it's not like an actual Games. Any number of people will survive. We're just overreacting because—well, you know why. You still want to go, don't you?"

"Of course. We want to destroy Snow as much as you do," Finnick replied.

Oblivious to Peeta's firm grip on her hand, Navin followed him to the contrasting peacefulness of the Hummingbird room, where they spent hours silently staring at the trees. The lack of sunlight was in no way helpful. Before they could realise it, a soldier rushed in, reciting a perfect script where President Coin had called for them, yet nobody had seen them for hours, leading people to worry.

"About us?" Navin chuckled. "Please, who would worry about the mutt who tried to kill the Mockingjay and the troublemaker amnesiac whom you can't punish thanks to the Mockingjay's deal? Try again."

The soldier straightened up. "President Coin requires your presence."

Peeta helped Navin up to her feet with a smile, which died down the moment his eyes met the soldier's. "I'm sure it must be important if the President asks to meet us herself. Although I don't see how either of us could be of any help. Let's say our reputation precedes us in no pleasant ways."

The soldier remained firm. "President Coin requires your presence."

Lacking any excuses, both complied and marched to Command. The squads had long since left when they were invited in. Plutarch invited them to take their seats at a spacious table, where only President Coin and a select few Capitol residents were present among the multitude of empty chairs.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, soldiers," Coin said with a gentle yet slightly unsettling smile. "Mr Heavensbee has emphasised the importance of obtaining footage of both of you in the Capitol with Squad 451. Despite that, reports from your head doctor completely reject the idea. In the instance of Soldier Mellark, the lack of time prevents his participation, while Soldier Cresta has unfortunately been denied any opportunity. If you are inclined to support the cause, Soldier Cresta, I believe the medic team would benefit significantly from your contribution."

Mirroring the president's smile, Navin replied. "If it's not too forward, may I request to be placed on my sister's medical team? I would greatly appreciate it if Prim and Minerva could also be included. Picture the Mockingjay's endearing sister, along with a Capitol girl and two victors, all ardently dedicated to the cause. That powerful message is worth highlighting alongside Squad 541's propos.

Coin's smile fell. "I'll see what we can do."

"Delightful," replied Navin, her smile widening in triumph. "Though I still worry about Peeta. He might be an exceptional person, but he's had no soldier training. If the head doctor were to recommend it, Peeta's performance in Squad 541 would be lacking, likely leading the Capitol to undermine Thirteen's undoubtedly powerful army."

"Mrs Odair is right," said Plutarch quickly, giving Navin no time to correct him. "Mister Mellark didn't win his Games thanks to his ability with a weapon, after all."

"Very well," Coin sighed in defeat. "Soldier Mellark will receive training to ensure preparedness in the event his participation is required."