The Ivory Rose| Finnick Odair

The Puppet Show

As the District 5 train arrived at the station, Eudoria couldn't help but shiver as a cold chill clawed at her spine. In her eight years of being a victor she had visited the Capitol over a hundred times: each of these memories was vividly tattooed upon her mind and body. There was no refuge now; she had been picked from thousands, like a meadow flower, held in the fingertips of a cruel man, as he displayed her for all to see. For years he had starved her of the sunlight, watching her wilt with every conniving kiss he placed upon her lips, with every strange hand that grazed her body, as if she were something that belonged to them. Now, just has she had allowed herself to hope once more for and end, he had thrown her into it all over again.

She was quickly ushered off of the train by Pheme; Eudoria watched her anxious expression as it danced upon her face, her sliver hair remaining nothing but still. 'Quick, Quick! we mustn't be late.' She exclaimed, her accent bearing a transatlantic twang. 

As she was escorted past a frenzied mob of fans, their faces decorated in vibrant colours that matched their outlandish garments, she couldn't but remember the smell, it was not one of great pungency, but despite the luxury that filled the Capitol, there was always a lingering note of blood.  

In a blur, she was primed and prepped for the parade: her eyes lined with silver, her dark hair washed and parts of it braided, until it appeared as a crown a top her head. She watched in the mirror as a dress was brought into the room, from afar it appeared an ordinary black gown, the only detail truly catching your eye was the thin, black wires coiled in the shape of  sleeves. However, as her stylist brought the dress over to her, the hidden wires that ran the length of the bodice and train, were now visible. These types of concealments had become a trend in the Capital since Katniss and Peeta's outfits went up in flames last year, during the Tribute Parade; that moment sparked a craze in the Capitol, but for the Districts it was yet another act of dissent. Whilst Eudoria didn't know her stylist (Aestus) all that well; as over a dozen had tried to dress her over the years, with many claiming her too difficult to work with; they both held some bitterness towards Snow and the Capitol, and so as he caught her eye in the mirror, he offered her a wink.

Eudoria waited beside her carriage, the chants of the audience swelling, and filling her eardrums. Her eyes fluttered shut, as she inhaled deeply: hoping to drown the world out. It proved successful for a short while, until she caught the sound of footsteps growing louder behind her. Her body tensed, preparing her to rebuff the oncoming attack, but then a voice, laced with a sickening charm, struck her from behind: 'My, my, if it isn't The Beauty of District 5.'

'Hello Finnick.' She muttered, swivelling her body around to face him, her expression deadpan, but her eyes emitting a warmth, as they reflected the cheeky smile dominating his face.

He looked her up and down, his smile growing as he shook his head, tutting as he did: 'Innocent really isn't going to work for you this time... so what's the tactic, woo all the other victors to death?' His voice was soft and playful.

She too now allowed a sly smirk to creep upon her lips, her eyes narrowing: 'No, I'd hate to steal your thunder. It's the only thing you've got going for you.' She teased, her voice hoarse and unwavering, as she placed a mocking hand upon his cheek.

He could not respond, no words would form on his tongue; all he could do was bite at his lip, as he gazed down at her, eyes prized upon her as if she were liquid gold.

She was the only woman who could fluster Finnick Odair, The Capitol's resident charmer. 

After a while, his expression become one of concern, worry poisoning his pupils. He brought her close, whispering in her ear: 'How are you, my love?' His voice genuine, without a hint of its previous allure.