Impavid

My snarl in the mirror was visible as I looked at myself. The entire length of my stomach was visible, tan flesh, smooth and glittering with something every time I caught the light. My legs were hidden behind a gold skirt that looked made of molten medal, the pattern of it something I’ve never seen before. The top was some sort of bralet made out of lace that almost showed my nipples. A large gold shell was placed in the valley of my breasts and the straps were made of gold that glittered like my skin.

I said nothing. There was nothing to say about my appearance. My hair was long and flowing in waves, my eyes rimmed in different blues and greens. I looked like a goddess of the sea- beautiful, of course, but in a way that made me cringe. There was nothing modest about the outfit, and nothing modest about the skin it showed.

“I know it’s a bit much-"

“It’s fine,” I said curtly, cutting off Violet. “It’s just not something I’m used to, showing off this much skin. But I get it. They want Finnick and I to look this way- appealing. I'll do whatever it takes.”

Violet cast her eyes down. “I know it isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t about what’s fair. It’s about what wins.”

Closing my eyes for a moment, my hand traveled up to my neck. A necklace made of blue coral and a thick leather cord with a shark tooth hung around her neck. Her fingers touched the tooth, sliding over the serration on the edges. It was the only thing about the outfit that even closely resembled home.

Taking a breath, I smiled at Violet and nodded my head. There was no point in being angry with her. So instead, I left the room, following an escort into the holding area for the chariots before the parade.

Glamorously dressed tributes stood all around. I did not cast my eyes anywhere save ahead of me, making a beeline for Finnick, who was dressed just as handsomely as myself. He was shirtless in a shirt of the same make, belted just below his tan abs. His hair was tousled and he had the same necklace on, our linkage from home.

Finnick stood in front of Katniss Everdeen, who certainly looked the part of girl on fire. She was in a black dress, hair tumbling in curls and dark rimmed eyes. She was beautiful, but dangerously so, in the same manner that I looked like a dangerous creature from the sea.

“Finnick,” I called, his attention shifting to me. He coughed suddenly, sputtering on whatever it was he was saying before turning and walking straight towards me, his face taking on a very stoic, very solid grimace. He reached me and I murmured, “Wait til we’re by the chariots. You look like you’re going to kill someone.”

“Oh I am. Whoever made you wear that.”

Grabbing his arm, I steered him so that we were blocked by the chariot, our horses knickering. No one paid us much attention as we ducked out heads together, talking in fierce whispers. “Bellona told you,” I said harshly, “I’m too be up there with you. They want me to be at my highest caliber.”

“You-“ he broke off, clenching his teeth together and breathing hard as he looked away and run a hand over his face. He looked back at me, thunder in his eyes. He continued in a calmer, colder voice, “you can see far too much skin, if you ask me.”

“But they didn’t.” I touched his arm, making him twitch. “You cannot have this reaction. I hate it just as much as you do, if not more. I feel… you know how I feel. I know that you do. But we’ve got better things that to pity me because I’m dressed in this.”

“That is a travesty.”

“Have you seen yourself?” I asked, gesturing to his bare chest. To emphasize, I poked him hard, my finger rebounding off his muscle. I made a face before waving it off. “Both of us are being presented like this on purpose, Finnick. I’m a mere echo of what you’re supposed to be. So get up there and smile and smirk or whatever it is you do and I’ll follow you.”

He laughed then, a smirk lighting his face. “You’re going to follow me? For one?”

“Shut up. I would follow you anywhere.”

With a smirk twisting his lips, Finnick stepped up on the chariot, offering a hand down to me. I pulled myself up to stand with him, breathing in deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. A ball of energy began knotting in my stomach and I shook my hands several times, trying to steady how I felt.

Boisterous screaming could be hear through the double doors. The crowd was waiting for us on the other side, waiting for us to be shown off. It was something I never thought that I would have to do again, and yet there I was, scantily dressed, shoved in a chariot with one of the few people in life who meant something to me, about to go in front of hundreds of people.

Bellona scurried over to us, gesturing to us to bend down so we could hear her. We both leaned to the right of the chariot as she said, “I want appeal from both of you, understand? Love the crowd as they would love you- Lana, you look ravishing, they’ll simply lose their heads over you.”
“They’ll be losing their heads alright.”

Bellona glared at him. “You are not a lovesick teenager out there, Finnick.”

He straightened, looking straight ahead. “Whatever.”

As Bellona walked away, I tilted my head to the side, looking at Finnick. “Did you just tell Bellona ‘whatever’?”

He rolled his eyes and surprised me by kissing me on my brow. My cheeks flushed with color and I turned away from him, clearing my throat. “Yes, I did.”

A director stood in front of the first chariot. Shifting my feet back and forth, I took a stance on the chariot. I tried not to look around anywhere, but I found myself craning my neck to look down the long line to the last chariot where the girl on fire and her male counterpart stood, speaking to their stylist.

It occurred to me that I had not asked Finnick what he had been talking to Katniss about. I had been hell bent on getting into the chariot and getting out of the god awful outfit that I was in. And with the gates opening up and my heart lurching to my throat, I had no time to ask him what it was that had been said.

My heart began pounding in my chest in time with the drums that were beating like the sound of war beyond the gates. The chariot began to pull forward and I took in a deep breath, silencing the panic on the inside and trying to reflect a calmness on the outside.

Pulling into the sun, our chariot joined the parade. The moment that I was in the public, a smirk was on my lips. I did not wave my hand like I was greeting an old friend. Instead I held my hand up, wagging my fingers and looking like I was some coy temptress with a sex god at my side. It was the part I was supposed to play, so I did.

Roses were thrown at my feet and fingers were pointed in my direction. I blew kisses and winks at the colorful array of people, ignoring the heat of the sun as it beat down on my skin, ignoring the sound of the drums and the screams of the people. I became what they wanted me to become: an item of lust.

Our chariot pulled around to the left of the circle after we passed President Snow. I did not so much as look at him, a mixture of fear and hatred for the man welling inside of me. Instead, I looked at Finnick, who in turn looked down at me as our chariot came to a halt. He made no face, but his eyes moved along my features, making my palms sweat.

Tentatively and out of the eye of the people, Finnick ran his fingers down my arm, across my wrist and down my palm, where he took my hand and laced our fingers, squeezing my hand. I looked away from him and to President Snow as he began speaking, but I squeezed him back.

Even though I had no idea what we were or what was taking place between Finnick and I, there were absolutely two things I was sure about. One was that I would do anything for him. The second was that I was going to save Katniss Everdeen if that meant staying with Finnick.

*

“Haymitch Abernathy,” the blonde man said, extending his hand. I knew exactly who he was, though I had never met him formally. I shook his hand firmly before letting it fall. We were sitting in Finnick’s designated bedroom, apparently the safest place to talk. “I’m a fan of yours.”

“Yeah I’m sure.” The three of us all looked uncomfortable. The lights were turned down and it was 3 AM, Haymitch having snuck to our apartment, which he had mentioned several times was not easy to do. I was sure that he thought I was supposed to think it was a great feat. I didn’t. “Now get to explaining.”

Haymitch looked at Finnick who grinned. “I thought she was supposed to be a real sweetheart.”

“You don’t know much about Lana Ladureé.”

“No, I don’t.” I crossed my arms at the skepticism in his voice, leaning back into the headboard of Finnick’s bed. Haymitch studied me a bit longer before sighing and rolling his eyes. “You need to keep the girl alive. She is the beacon of hope that is sparking the rebellion that we have at hand.”

“She isn’t going to trust us.”

“You’ll leave that part to me. All tributes except districts one, two, five, nine and ten are in on this. They got lucky that you were the two pulled from four or your district wouldn’t be on the train to the rebellion.”

“We get it,” I said curtly, crossing my arms. “How do we do this?”

“This goes deeper than you know, slow down. There is a plan to break you all out of the arena. I’m going to list how it goes very slowly so try to stay with me. You listening sweetheart?”

“She’s listening,” Finnick answered. He got up from the chair he was sitting in and sat down next to me. Haymitch raised his brows when Finnick extended his arm and wrapped and arm around me, pulling me into his side. “And stop calling her sweetheart.”