Inhale

Naloh tutted when he saw the state of me. But by the time I’d smeared on some make-up and done my hair I looked half reasonable and I let Phillus and Rita pick me an outfit. “This is the kind of thing Luine meant right? I know these style of pumps are really…”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” I breathe, what was popular in the Capitol changed weekly. The most I could do was not completely humiliate Luine. There's a creak in the hall and I look up smiling as my brother enters the room. “You get everything in the car?” That was their way of travelling, we’d purchased it a couple of days ago and Thom had been filling it with their belongings and anything else I had persuaded them to take all morning. “And you’re still going to leave…”

“Right after we’ve seen you.” The answer is robotic, not matching at all with his expression. Naloh complains downstairs again and I can hear people gathering outside by our transport to the Justice Hall. Rita and Phillus leave us, both hugging me gently before they vanish.

“These are interesting.” He crouches down and grabs one high heel in a fluid movement, scrunching up his nose. “You look nice though.”

“Thank you.” He smiles in a way that instantly makes me struggle to breathe, my throat clenches. I can feel the adrenalin pumping through my limbs; that fight or flight impulse. It would be flight that would win if I let it but I can’t and the furthest I let myself run is into my brother, him lurching slightly at the slam of my weight. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need too but his arms are a vice around me and I’m not sure which of us is trembling.

I hear Naloh complaining outside again and remove myself from his grasp. Fluffing up my hair again. “As soon as I head through for the train after our hour, okay?”

“Yup.” He’s looking over my head still. “And we head straight towards Finnick’s sister’s.” He pauses for a moment, “Never mind the girl's school or my job.” I taste blood from where my teeth are pressing hard into my cheek. “I know, I know. I’m…” He bends back down and passes my shoes, stopping me in my apology and letting me lean on him as I slip them on. I don’t fit easily under his chin now but his final hug isn’t as tight. I feel like he’s letting me go physically and metaphorically. I swallow down the lump and try and ignore the prickling in my eyes.

“You don’t have to do this you know. I mean there’s…”

“Oh, so this is your and Finnick’s little plan is it?” He has the grace to look a tiny bit guilty. “Drop it. I’m not doing...just stop it, okay?” It looks like he’s about to stare me down but he falters, awkwardly patting my shoulder again.

“We should go.” He nods, and I check over my appearance in the mirror. I can’t look upset when we’re at the Reaping, I will not look like I’m about to crumble. I’ve never been strong, mentally or physically but I can hold myself together. That’s important, not just for me, but for both of us.

Sponsors can keep you alive, they don’t go for weaklings.

“Ready?” Thom offers me his arm and I slip my hand to his elbow. I nod weakly, “And, we’ll see you in the hour after.” I breathe a reply and let him walk me down the stairs and out under the hot sun.
_______________

I take my place on one side of the stage with Mags and Andromeda. We’re roped off and I watch as Finnick, Tobias and the others do the same opposite us. I wipe the dried spot of blood from my finger; the usual way of signing in. I kept aiming looks at Finnick as the public got into position but whether purposeful or not his eyes strayed nowhere close to me. I can feel my palms sweating heavily, practically slick as I wipe them over the bottom of my dress.

It won’t be long now, Naloh is in position and I can’t stop myself from continuously flickering my sight over to the two bowls, pitifully close to empty. Finally, I catch Finnick gazing the same way but all he can do is shoot me a pained smile before Naloh steps forward and the usual video starts to play on the huge screens behind us. It’s the same video every year, reminding us all how much we owe the Capitol, particularly President Snow. I want the video to last forever and usually, it feels like it but today it seems to flash by and before I know it Naloh is stepping forward, doing his usual call of ‘Ladies first’ and scrambling to snatch one of the three slips in the bowl.

My heart is thundering as his fingers grasp around one piece and bring it upwards. There’s no hesitation with Naloh; he tears open the ribbon and his words are rumbling down the microphone faster than I can comprehend.

“Elenia Volute.” I blink, it’s the only reaction that I can fathom and I force out a slow breath, finally nodding. One of the peacekeepers come over and starts to unclick the rich rope. That uncomfortable silence still lingers over the area but several gasps break though as Mags forces her thin hand into the air.

I feel the yelp in my throat rather than hear it, but it’s an instinct and I clutch her hand, wrenching it back to her side. “Mags.” It’s a growl but I take a step away, some poisonous spark already hissing that I should regret my decision. Finnick’s jaw clenches hard. “I accept my place as tribute..O...Okay?”

Naloh tuts, he hates any sort of dramatics and the rules on volunteering and everything surrounding it are a bit sketchy. As far as I know, no-one has ever turned down someone volunteering to die in their place.

The peacekeeper has no qualm and escorts me a little forcefully to my spot. I can feel myself shaking and link my hands behind my back so it’s a little less obvious. I position myself carefully on the crescent-shaped scar in the wood. The low level of muttering has sunken into that dangerous silence and all I can hear is the sound of my heart pumping hard in my ears.

This was it, there was no chance of going back now.

Naloh huffs and clutches the microphone again, “And for the gentlemen…” I keep my face forward, searching for my brother and thankfully finding him just as Naloh begins to open another slip. He nods at me and it’s enough for me to be able to breathe again. I lift my eyes over him and see my name floating under the number four on one of the screens.

I wait for Naloh to say the name I know must be scrawled on all each of those bits of paper so when it comes it’s no surprise although again there are some unhappy looking people in the crowd. I don’t turn, I watch him on the large screen at the opposite end of the square. You could be calling him from another room, he steps forward, waves easily for the mass of people, and more importantly for the cameras, and practically swans towards me.

I take note and try to make my face more pleasant and less tight. Naloh steps towards me and I take my due, this is the moment where the tributes shake hands but instead, Finnick pulls me into a hug, landing a kiss on the crown of my head. He always had to go a step further but the tension in his body is now evident and I can tell just how mad he is that the final chance he’d set up to save me I had blown.

The smirk on his face falters for a split second but as he releases me the sides of his lips rise easily and I make sure mine do as well, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear and turning my smile towards him. Presenting ourselves as a team is necessary, and at this point expected even if he likely wants nothing more than to throttle me.

Naloh declares our names again, essentially ending the small ceremony but when he steps back there is no applause at all. It’s a sign of respect and I feel my chest swell a little before we’re led offstage by a female peacekeeper.

“Straight on through.”

I deflate again. “What, n…no. We have an hour.”

“New policy.” She speaks a little more softly but it doesn’t stop the panic rising up within me, “Straight to the train.”

“No,” I can hear the edge of hysteria in my words. “I get to see my brother before…”

“No.” Her fingers grip a vice on my arm. “You don’t. Don’t be difficult.”

I try to argue again, the pressure on my lungs is building and I can feel that familiar overwhelming sensation forming. “Elle.” Finnick grabs my free hand and I stop struggling, although my mind doesn’t settle at all.

I deserved the hour, we both did. It was a rule, it had to be a rule. I open my mouth but shut it tightly. Likely I will never see my brother again, my nieces. I blink back the tears fiercely, this has to work. It if doesn’t that is it. They’ll be finding out now, trying to come up and through the side door. They’ll be barred, Thom will realise. He can’t put up too much of a fuss, he can’t do anything stupid with security so tightly wound and so hard.

He won’t. He will do exactly what we discussed and regardless of what happens, he will be safe. I know instantly I will be repeating that to myself a lot over the upcoming days.

Naloh makes me jump as he bundles past us, complaining as usual as the car doors open and we slide in. I’m alone with Finnick.

“Was that your idea or Mags’?” I won’t mention Thom. I have to try and separate it from me, I know that. Leave District Four behind as much as possible. I pull my knees up to try and soothe the stabbing pains in my stomach. “The idea was that you would be going back as a mentor, not like this.”

“And you decided to bombard me all morning like I haven’t been saying for weeks that I want to do this. That I have to do this.”

“Well, congratulations.” He says, voice a little high. “You get your wish, don’t you?” I swallow down harsh words and slam my feet back onto the carpeted floor of the car. Naloh flings himself in with a driver before anything else can be said. He’s not happy which surprises no-one.

“So selfish.” He turns as if somehow this problem is our fault. “Absolutely no-one but Mags is willing to come and mentor you!”

“We don’t need mentors,” Finnick responds, ignoring my scoff at his hypocrisy.

“Well, you have Mags. But how will it go down that I didn’t manage to convince any of the four, the four other male victors to come…” He shakes his head, his personal drama is far more important than we could possibly imagine. “I don’t think victors feel too safe in the Capitol as it stands.”

He lifts a brow but doesn’t reply straight away. “Well, Margery is following us in another car as soon as possible. She wanted to go back to her house and get something apparently.” He waves her away from his thoughts and turns back around in his seat, fiddling with the extravagant watch adorning his thick wrist. “I hope this darling new attitude of yours drops before we reach the Capitol.” He lowers his voice an octave but his words still ring clear in the small car, “I think I preferred it when you barely spoke.”

I feel my face flush but hold back any response, instead sitting motionless as the car moves off and begins down the cobbled road. My nails are digging half circles into my arms until Finnick reaches across and gently pulls the hand closest to his own. He doesn’t say anything and as I glance at him from under my lashes he isn’t looking at me.

He’s upset. I get it. I’m upset that all three of them would try and do this the morning of. I’m not surprised, I wish I was but like I had said to Finnick those few long hours earlier I knew him and Mags had been muttering about something. They wanted me safe, I couldn’t be upset about that although a small part of me is sure it’s just because they all think I can’t do it. That I’ll fail, I’m terrified of that.

I can’t let that happen. I am going to do everything I can to get Katniss and Peeta onside and keep her alive long enough for whatever else needs to happen for her to escape. Finnick squeezes my hand tight but lets it slip from his grasp as we stop and I can see the train waiting like a silver bullet. We exit the car and are met again by several peacekeepers as if they expected us even now to try and run. I bet a few people would try if they had the chance. Mags shuffles over from her car, greeting us on the platform. Her smile is bittersweet, her eyes still slightly narrowed.

She had no right to be angry, I had saved her life.

I sigh and finally, we are allowed in, led one by one by the dazzling white uniforms. “Oh, are we going to have guards on the continuously moving train now as well?” Naloh groans, waving them away and out of the main carriage, it looked the same as every year, the plush couches, and the deep wooden table with ridiculously expensive cutlery.

“Well, since the schedule has already been ruined.” He aims a slight glare at Mags and I make a point to ‘accidentally’ bump into him as I move past, unwillingly accepting a glass of wine, “We’ll be at the Capitol around midnight, perhaps a little later. The Reaping ceremonies are on at eight this evening, so I say we eat around seven and watch them?”

He waits for replies but only receives one from Finnick. “Wonderful,” he took an especially long gulp of the dark liquid. He's struggling to keep himself together.

Naloh nods, looking relieved that one of us was playing along, “Then I suggest we all relax and take some time...” He aims those words at me, “After watching the Reaping we’ll change and prepare for the cameras at the platform before we head to the training centre. It’s all new this year, all been done up especially.”

He grins, clearly excited at this new décor and I grimace behind his back. I feel especially sour towards him, although none of this is really his fault and he’s as insufferable every year. I glance back around the carriage, I want to sink into one of the couches and just wait for us to arrive but I know that isn’t an option. Finnick looks thunderous and I know I have no chance of being able to relax in the slightest.

“I need air.” My words come out strangled but no-one replies and I leave the area, aiming for the small balcony-like exit at the rear of the train. I don’t reach it, I hadn’t noticed but it seems like even the train has had some improvements this year and the final carriage is made completely of glass. They must have thought it would be beautiful, watching the Districts pass so close you could almost reach out and touch nature. They thought wrong. You can hide on a train, and pretend you’re anywhere. You can close the blinds and shut everything else out.

In this carriage you can watch the home you will never see again. I hover for a while, we pass several of the factories that reside on the outskirts of East Harbour, the one main road that I hope my brother is somewhere on. Eventually, I fling myself onto an armchair next to a small palm tree, we’re starting to turn inland and I reach what is likely to be my last sighting of the ocean, the early afternoon sun glinting from the surface. All too quickly it’s gone. Will Finnick have realised he's missed it?

That’s it, we head towards District Ten and I lose sense of where we are within Four. It doesn’t matter really, the odds are so stacked against us. I taste the blood on my lip before I am even aware I’ve been biting it and smear the liquid on my hand as I try to wipe it away. Tears are threatening but I won’t let them fall. I have to be passed that now. I stay in that carriage until it's plunged into darkness, we're in the midst of the tunnel to District Ten. The act of losing District Four sets something off within me and I tear off my shoes, suddenly desperate to wash and change, as if I’m fully letting go.

I need to let go.

I barge past the others, hardly aware of their conversation and into the room I always occupy.

They’re hardly used unless the tributes that year are particularly weepy, Naloh is never sensitive and the journey to the Capitol is usually about eleven hours. The only time I’ve ever used my bed was on my victory tour and I find a laugh when I realise at least there’s no chance I’ll go through that again.

But there are reminders of home everywhere and I need to get rid of them. My dress is one of them.
I chuck the shoes down and rush to the bathroom, pressing for the settings I prefer on the shower and trying to rip the dress off over my head. I can’t, there are several buttons that do up on the back of my neck and I fumble, trying to claw at them whilst swamped in the material.

I don’t know exactly what sends me over the edge but tangled in the cotton something inside me breaks, the day breaks me and the knowledge of what is coming is shattering. The fabric is catching over my mouth and all too soon I can’t stop myself from sobbing, tangled in the cloth like a deformed ghost.

I’m pulling the skirt of the dress back down, wrenching it over my body and not caring an ounce when I hear a tear. “Hey, careful.” I didn’t hear him come in over the shower running and I dread to think how much he’s heard but he doesn’t act upon it. Instead, he comes over and he’s gently undoing them within seconds. “Thank you.” I can only imagine how red and swollen my face is and my voice sounds scratchy. “Just got a bit stuck.”

“I can see that.” A warm humour is in his voice. Instantly I can tell he’s not angry at me anymore and I’m thankful. His thumb runs over the back of my neck and he pushes some hair so it rests over my shoulder. I lean back into him as his arms wrap around me. “You’re wasting an awful lot of water.” I manage a smile, glad for that simple ability he has to change the subject and keep the topic light. “I guess so.”

His chest is warm and I feel some of the tension finally draining from me. “I’m sor-“

“Me too.” I don’t want to hear it. I can tell he wants to talk about the Reaping, our argument in the car but it isn’t important now, this is done and that’s that. I manage to say that in a much less concise way and my skin tingles at the base of my neck where his lips land.

“It was a very nice dress before you tried to tear it to shreds.” His fingers are fiddling with the hem and I feel a flood of warmth. “We won’t tell Luine.” I mean regarding the dress but the words send his thoughts another way and his hands lift to my hips as I spin to face him. I catch my reflection in the mirror behind him, my eyes are a little red but it’s not the nightmare I’d been expecting. I press myself against him but there’s no desire in his eyes now. “What?”

He kisses me quickly, doesn't let it deepen. “We shouldn’t tell Luine…any of them.”

I can tell he expects me to be offended or to question him, his face softens as if to ease a blow but I agree completely. “I know.” I suck on my lower lip for a moment. “I know you still need to come across how you normally do. We need the sponsors. I get it.” I smile, making sure my teeth show. “And I also know Naloh is one of the biggest gossips in any Capitol social circle so…”

He kisses me again and this time lingers.

It was certainly something I had thought about. If it, we, were to get out to the public it would hurt Finnick’s reputation and that reputation was a huge factor in any gifts he would receive whilst in the arena. “What about at the training centre?” I make myself clearer, “Not during training obviously but I mean in the apartment?”

“I think it will be more of a case of what we can’t say rather than what we can’t do.” I understand that too, and his cautiousness now. Whatever is happening with Katniss Everdeen cannot be mentioned, not at least without being heavily coded.

“Got it.” I’m still keeping my voice light because there’s a hint of a crease between his eyebrows. It takes me a few long seconds but it clicks in my head, his thumb is still rubbing circles on my hip through the thin fabric, it gives me butterflies which drop dead. “They won’t expect you to keep doing that.” I don’t let there be any hint of questioning in my words, it comes out more like a childish demand. “They can’t, you’ll be training all day and prepping and…it wouldn’t be fair.”

“No.” He says the words so slowly and gently his lips barely part. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

The shock is resounding and I almost laugh, I hadn’t even dared think about that option in months. “It won’t.” I try to keep my voice as in control as before. “Everyone knows, however much of it, that Crane is dead and it doesn’t take anyone with half a brain to work out why he ended that way. They won’t. I’m…” I catch his face and look him dead in the eyes, “I’m practically a bad luck charm, it… won’t. Besides no-one else…”

“Crane kept you on a pretty tight leash.” I frown at his choice of words, he doesn’t realise. He laughs at himself although it comes out more like he’s choking. “You didn’t hear the number of comments I have about people wanting their hands all over you.”

“I won’t let them.”

“Even if they threaten Thom?”

I swallow hard and I can feel all the moisture in my mouth vanish again, “They won’t. And no-one even knows where he’s going. He’s as safe as he can be right now.” I’m panting a little when I’m finished, “I won’t Finnick. I wouldn’t let anyone…” I huff, fighting the urge to practically rip my hands through my hair. “You know that. Not with everything…”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” He rambles and I let him comfort me although all he’s done is add another horrifying possibility into the swarm of worries in my mind.