Impavid

The waiting room was filled with tributes, all of us sitting on small black seats. We were dressed in lack and silver suits. They were not exactly practical. Then again, nothing about a death match for fun was practical. So I endured, sitting on my seat, legs pulled up onto it and facing Finnick.

“Good thing we beat each other to death with sticks, huh?” Finnick asked. He grinned at me and I returned it, nodding and setting my chin on top of my knees. Gloss was already in the show case room, doing whatever it was that he did. “I’m sure Cain would love to see us go in there and do whatever it is we’re going to do.”

“What are you going to do?”

We had not discussed what we planned on doing. I had an idea of what I wanted to do, but I wasn’t sure. It certainly would give me an edge, and it would probably make the game makers extremely interested in how I was going to pan out in the games. It went against my real plan, which also made me think that I should go for it.

“I was thinking of making the game makers think I’m going to give them one hell of a game.” Finnick leaned in so we could talk quietly to one another. One of the tributes from six- the man- threw up on the side of the room. Everyone looked up at him, cringing at the smell. A worker moved to clean it immediately. “If they think we’re blood thirsty and angry, well they’re going to give us good scores.”

“How do I do that?”

“By making it clear there is an enemy.” His eyes flickered over to Katniss and Peeta. My eyes followed and I nodded slightly, following what he was saying. “You make it seem like you’re going to go after the girl, I’ll make it seem like I’m going after the boy. They’ll love that, if we have targets.”

I nodded. “They already think I’m a killing machine.”

“Have you ever watched your tapes?” I shook my head no, looking at my hands. I clasped them and unclasped them, shifting. I never wanted to watch my games. I wasn’t proud of them, and I had already lived them once. I saw no reason to relive them in third person. “You should watch your tapes one day. I know you don’t want to relive it, but the way you fight? You don’t exactly fight to defend.”

“I was taught to not only survive, but to come out of all situations on top.” I glanced at him. He wasn’t frowning, but he looked sad. “It was you who taught me that.”

“I was also eighteen and stupid. I just wanted you to come out alive. Instead of teaching you how to survive, I taught you how to kill. It’s my fault, for-"

For the first time ever, it wasn’t Finnick who caught me off by kissing. I cut him off by brushing my lips against his, quick and soft before pulling back, giving him a look. His eyes were closed but he smiled. His eyes fluttered open. “Don’t even go there. You were a great mentor for an eighteen year old. I used to think it was weird how you talked like you were much older than you were.”

“I used to think I was ridiculous for being totally captivated by a sixteen year old.”

Conversation drifted to talking about home. We talked about different elements of home and certain people. District four was wealthy but remotely small. Most the people living there knew one another, especially people like Finnick and I.

Slowly, time passed. When it was Finnick’s turn, he stood up and gave me a wink. I watched him go, suddenly feeling very alone as I sat there. The entire row in front of me cleared. I glanced around, noticing some of the other tributes looking at me strangely. It was the first time they would have ever seen Finnick and I act as anything more than old friends.

At the back of my row, Johanna raised a brow. I gave her an encouraging smile. She did not return it, but she gave me a nod of the head. I don’t think that I had ever seen Johanna Mason smile, but I knew that her head nod meant that she was also wishing me luck.

It took fifteen minutes for my name to be called by an automated voice. I stood up, walking down the hallway as Finnick walked out the room. We touched hands as we passed one another, but that was the only movement we made. In seconds, I was inside of the large room, looking around.

Unlike my own year, the game makers were not sitting around a table feasting and having a grand time. They sat at a metal table, some of them electing to drink, others simply just watching me with cold eyes. Taking a breath, I nodded, moving to sweep my eyes around.

Quick on my feet, I grabbed one of the dummies that stood straight up by attachment of a pole. I quickly set it up several yards away from me. I then grabbed a bowl of paint, running my fingers in it and painting a name across it. When I stepped back, in big, red letters, it said Katniss Everdeen. I grabbed another dummy and pulled it next to the one labeled 'Katniss' and painted the words 'Career Pack' across the front.

Grabbing a trident, I walked far away from the Katniss dummy. Turning to face it, I grinned and ran forward pulling the trident into my body as I threw myself forward into an aerial, using the momentum when I landed to throw the trident hard, bringing myself down to one knee as it sailed through the air, hitting the Katniss dummy right in the chest.

Quickly without so much as missing a step, I rolled to my feet, grabbing three knives off the table, jumping and twisting my body as I threw out an arm the knife flipping handle over tip and imbedding itself in the head of the Career Dummy. The next one I did a pirouette, throwing the knife and hitting it in the chest. The last knife I threw standing straight, but I threw it hard and savagely. It hit the dummy in the groin.

Walking over to the table, I grabbed a spear, twisting it in my hands. I began to spin it in a circular pattern, twisting my wrists and spinning it around to throw it, hitting Katniss’ dummy in the back.

Sick of attacking the dummies, I managed to grab rope and weave a net with several lengths of it in under a minute, throwing the net over the two heads of the dummies carelessly. The rope had been to show that I wasn’t just good at weapons, that I could make things too.

I turned and looked at the game makers. A mixture of pleased looks and raised eyebrows met my stare. I nodded my head when I had nothing else to display, pivoting on my heel. I passed between the two dummies, knocking both over carelessly as I exited the room.

Finnick was waiting for me in the room along with Bellona, Mags, Violet and Vienna. They all excitedly asked how I thought my session went, asking what I did. “I painted two dummies and labeled them Katniss and Career Pack and then destroyed them. For a long while, no one said anything. Finnick grinned at me the entire time, his dimples showing.

“That just may work,” Bellona said, her voice taking on one of surprise, like she was shocked she was saying it. She began nodding her head. “That was actually a brilliant idea. They will think you’re going in there all business. Brilliant. And Finnick?”

“I did the same thing with but name my dummy Peeta. I did one of the career tributes too.”

“Did you two plan this?”

I shook my head, smiling. “Not really well, no.”

Pouring glasses of wine, we all sat down on the couch. I allowed myself to feel somewhat relaxed, my feet pulled up on the couch and in Finnick’s lap. His hand rested gently on my legs, but that was the only contact we had. Lunch was sitting on the coffee table, small sandwiches that tasted divine as we waited to see the scoring before we were off to getting dressed for the interviews.

Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith came on air then, welcoming all viewers. They went to talk about the traditional rules, how each tribute went in to show case our talents and that we would be ranked on a scale of one to twelve. Anxiously I shifted in my seat, waiting to see what we pulled.

Both tributes from district one pulled a nine, something I expected. It was also expected when Brutus pulled a ten, but what shocked me was when Enobaria got an eleven. It was particularly higher than her original games, making me wonder if she tore things apart with her teeth. Beetee received and eight, while Wiress followed him with a seven.

“Next is Finnick Odair from district four,” Caesar said. Finnick’s picture came up on the screen. I reached my hand out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it hard. He leaned forward, taking a breath. “Finnick is known as the youngest victor to ever win a games. This time he has come out with a score of ten!”

Everyone in our room cheered. I grabbed his face and kissed him on the cheek, smiling at him. It had worked. Surely my score was going to follow suit with a ten. My heart still began to pound, though. “It worked.”

“Shh,” he insisted, gesturing to the screen.

“Next from district four is Lana Ladureé, known for holding the second highest record for killing the most tributes!” I closed my eyes and sucked in my breath. The entire time I had been in the capitol for the quell they had avoided that. Even the casting of the show had not mentioned I had slaughtered everyone in my games. “Lana has come out with a score of eleven!”

I was shocked. Everyone cheered again, clapping and looking at me happily. Finnick looked at me, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. “How did you swing that?”

“I mangled those dummies,” I answered, shaking my head. “Trust me, it was borderline psychotic. I may have also did a lot of flips and pretty spinning.”

“Whatever you did worked.”

Laughs and smiles were exchanged all around and I couldn’t help but feel pride swell into my chest that somehow I managed to level my score with Enobaria. From the moment at the training center to the moment she received and eleven, I felt something battling against her, and I wanted to take her on. The closer to the games we got, the more I disliked her. It was my inner monster.

Everyone else received moderate scores. We talked over them, not really worried about anyone else. I noted that Johanna got a ten and I smiled, nodding my head to myself. Johanna, however brash and rough as she was, was still on the same side. And when you got past the part of her that wanted to kill everyone, she was almost enjoyable.

Only one thing could suck the elation out of the room. And I hadn’t known what it was until both Katniss and Peeta somehow pull a record breaking score of twelve. No one in the room spoke after that, though the people on the screen insisted that they must have done something monumental.

Everyone in the room seemed to feel the same way. Even though Bellona and the twins had absolutely nothing to do with the plan Finnick and I were in on, they knew that the scoring of twelve was no blessing. They stared at the screen before looking away awkwardly. For all of their primping and pampering, my team was not stupid to the sense that they didn't know a death sentence when they saw one. They knew why we’re there, and they knew that it was by no show of skill that the two star-crossed lovers from district twelve had received top scores.

Grabbing the controller, Finnick switched the screen off. For a few moments, no one said anything. Bellona finally cleared her throat and clapped her hands together, gesturing for Finnick and I to go to our opposite rooms in order to get dressed.

Violet made small talk as she dressed me. I only answered when she wanted me to, otherwise I was silent. My wandered back to what Caesar had said on the show about me. Second record for killing the most tributes. I hadn’t even known until after my games in the closing interview. The record for the most by a single person in any games was thirteen, and it had been several years before myself. A man from district one had obliterated everyone in the arena, a bloodlust like no one had ever seen.

As for myself, I had done it on accident. I had gone in that arena understanding that I needed to come out. I wanted to come out alive. The only way to do that was to killed people who came after me, no matter how old they were, no matter how much I didn’t want to. It wasn’t until I had won that I understood that I had taken surviving to the extreme level. I killed eleven people in my games. Something that I never spoke about, I never thought about, something that was rarely brought up anymore.

In and out of the shower more than once and forced to sit, stand, tilt my head up and close my eyes a million times, I was dressed. Looking down at my dress I breathed in a sigh of relief. It wasn’t revealing and it certainly wasn’t what I expected it to be. Instead it was a white dress with beading all over it. My hair was dark and curling, standing out against the white of the dress. My makeup was done dark and shadowy.

For a moment, I tried to understand the symbolism behind it. Bellona always insisted there was some hidden point to what I was wearing. It used to be to make me look like a princess, to make me look like a flower among weeds. Now I wasn’t sure why I looked so elegant and ethereal.

“You don’t look like a princess anymore,” Violet said, her voice catching. “You’re all grown up.”

A princess. I smiled a bit, realizing what it was. “You’re right, I don’t look like a princess; I look like a queen.”

“I want to let you know,” Violet said softly, standing next to me, “we want to let you know, since Vienna is with Finnick, that it has been an honor to dress you. And we have every belief that you are going to come out of that arena alive. The bets are all on you and Enobaria.”

“You’re not supposed to tell her,” Vienna hissed as she walked into the room. She looked at me with a smile nonetheless. “But it is true. Everyone knows it’s going to be you. You won a princess and now you’ll win again as a queen.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, smiling and kissing them both gently on the cheek. It wasn’t their fault that neither of them had any idea what was going on. They were just people who worked for the capitol, mindless sheep who followed the herd. “I’m sure you’ll love working on me when we meet again.”

Both of them loved that. But as we walked out of the room and towards the elevator where Finnick was waiting, I couldn’t help but feel bad for them. They looked so worried for our wellbeing, so hopeful that we were coming back. They had no idea that we intended to get rid of the capitol, that we wanted nothing to come back to.

“You look stunning,” Finnick murmured. He himself looked stunning. He wore dark pants that were high at the waist, a wrap around them and a white tunic, open to reveal his chest as usual. His hair was slicked back in a dashing manner. His shark tooth necklace from the parade night hung around his neck, our token. I noted mine was absent. “Looking for something?”

He held up the necklace. I smiled and took it. It felt safe around my neck and tucked under the neckline of my dress. “Where did you manage to find that?”

“The nightstand. It’s nice to see you in something where I can’t see all of your skin.”

“Can’t say I feel the same.”

“What did you expect?”

“From stylists? Nothing at all. From you? A charming smile, a breath taking wave and a dashing twinkle in your eye.” I was laughing towards the end of my sentence, waving my hands around to imitate his elegance as well as winking at him. He rolled his eyes at me as I continued to mock him, feigning passing out at the site of him. “You know it’s true.”

“You are a complete pain in the ass, Lana.”

“As I recall, that is exactly what you said to me right before I went into my games.”

He smiled. “And yet, nothing has changed."

Arranging ourselves in line to go on stage became surreal. It was like going backwards in time, to see everyone standing there in beautiful outfits or an attempt at beauty that came off as an atrocity. The biggest, most beautiful atrocity of all was when Katniss revealed herself in a stunning wedding gown complete with jewels and glitter and every breath taking element they could find.

My mouth hung open slightly as I looked at her. Everyone looked shocked, the line formation instantly falling to pieces as everyone stepped out, walking to her and examining the dress. She smiled sadly and nodded her head to whatever was being asked of her.

Looking at Finnick, I motioned for him to stay where he was and turned quickly, walking to Katniss as Gloss brushed by me, colder than ice. It seemed not everyone liked the touch that Cinna had put on Katniss.

“That’s a beautiful dress.” She looked up at me. Johanna had just fixed the pearls on Katniss’ necklace, murmuring something before nodding to me and going back to stand in line. It was just Katniss and I. “He really loves taking the happiness from everyone, doesn’t he?”

“I think so.”

“I’m sorry.” And I was. Something about seeing her in that dress made me feel sympathy for her. Because unlike a lot of the tributes about to go on the stage, she had a huge part to play. She had to play a heart broken, love sick girl who was never going to get married. It was a lot harder to play than a victor turned tribute. “You pull of white much better than I do.”

“I don’t think so,” she disagreed. She offered me a smile- a genuine one. “Looks like we’re both ladies in white tonight. You look like royalty.”

“A bride and a queen. What a match we make.”

When there seemed like nothing else to say, I took my place in front of Finnick. The interviews began, and though I was not sure what I was expecting, it absolutely was not what began to take place. Cashmere and Gloss alike began to talk about how angry they were, and how upset they were to lose the people of the capitol as a family.

At first, I thought perhaps it was a fluke. Enobaria started with talking about how prepared she was to go back in the games, but her interview trickled to the same theme- anger and a sense of betrayal that we had to go back in. I turned my head to look at Finnick over my shoulder as Beetee went as far to call out the legality of the games.

“That is not what I expected,” he admit quietly as Wiress spoke on stage. I agreed with a sound, watching the stage. Her few minutes were about to expire, and then it would be me. “What are you going to say?”

“I have no idea.”

Wiress walked to her seat on the stage and I was called. Finnick kissed the back of my shoulder quickly, making me shiver even through the fabric of my dress. I walked up the stairs, holding the sides of my dress out as to not trip on the hemline walking up the steps.

Lights hit my face and I smiled, glad that I did not have to see to smile. Screams erupted and I waved to the crowd, approaching Caesar and smiling, kissing him on both cheeks as I looked out at the hundreds of audience members.

“Lana!” Caesar said, voice ecstatic. “I know that I speak on behalf of all of us that we were touched- truly touched- when you volunteered for your old mentor, Mags Cohen.”

“Absolutely, Caesar. I would do anything for the people that I love. It was the right thing to do.”

“So it was, so it was. Do you think you’re ready for this game, Lana? It’s not long ago you were up here telling me how ready you were for the 69th annual Hunger Games.”

I sighed dramatically, looking at him sadly as I nodded my head. “I like to think I’m ready, Caesar but I just don’t know. I look at these people behind me and I know in my heart that we are all friends, and I’m going to miss them so much. But if there is anyone I’m going to miss if I don’t get out of there, it’s my brother.”

“Ah yes, your brother.” The crowed made a mournful sound. They were taking the bait. I tried not to smirk as I nodded sadly. “Cain was your motivation for your first games, was he not?”

“Absolutely, and he always will be.” I looked out at the crowd, pouting my bottom lip. I began to think that Cain was out there, sitting in one of the rows. My throat felt raw and I realized I was no longer acting. So I broke my rule again, and I let my eyes water, a tear sliding out as I wiped it quickly. “I won to pay for my brother’s medication. I won because I knew that the money to help him was more important than anything.”

“And it still is?”

“Yes, but at a higher cost than I want to pay. These people behind me don’t deserve to suffer because I want to save my brother.” I looked right at the cameras then, right into the screen. “It’s not my fellow tributes or even me that this game is killing. It’s my little brother who is sick and ailing.”
My words were instant. There was an uproar about wanting to save Cain, and I heard a few people yell ‘boo’ before the crowd began crying. With another kiss on the cheek I was off to my seat, sitting down and watching as Finnick came on stage.

The female screams in the crowd bounced off of me, completely irrelevant as Finnick and Peter began talking. But instead of talking about how angry he was, Caesar asked Finnick, “I understand you have a message for someone, out there?”

“I do.” He put his hands behind his back and looked right at the camera. I looked at the screen, and it were as if we were looking at one another with no one else in the room. It was like he was saying it to me, though his back was to me. “When I first met you, you were nothing more than another face, years later and you’re the only face I could ever find in a crowded place.”

Shrieks filled the room. I was absolutely positive that every girl in the entire room thought that Finnick was addressing them. I would have almost believed it, but when he turned around and looked up at me, I knew. He walked up the stairs, taking his place by me. Everything on his face told me. The way his eyes glimmered, the way that the left of his mouth quirked upwards and the way that demurely linked our hands in the folds of my dress all told me he had been talking to me.

“Did you look into the camera on purpose?”

“Of course I did.”

I beamed. “Thank you.”

“Always.”