The Ivory Rose| Finnick Odair

The Bodies That Lie With Me

Trigger Warning: References to sexual assault and some acts of violence briefly described.

Secrets weren't the typical currency of the Capitol, but they were certainly the foundation of it. Even in the brief twenty four years Eudoria had spent as its slave, she had been involved in several...

Like a moth to a flame, the high society of the Capitol had become infatuated with her, watching her every move as if she were the prey; however what had made her so beguiling is that she was in fact the hunter.

Tonight was the final night of her Victory Tour, a celebration of her excellence in the form of a party in President Snow's mansion; what an honour for a young girl, little did she know it would become the root of her nightmares.

Pheme took her hand, smiling widely at the vast house that stood before them: the flag of Panem hung from the balcony, lights bearing a golden hue illuminated the front of the house, and surrounding it was clusters of people, their drunken laughter filling the air. The sight of their daring outfits, that seemed to burst with colour: caused her to look at her own attire, she had been dressed in a white ballgown, that shimmered gold in certain lighting, appearing rather simple compared to those of the other attendees.

Pheme noticed her hesitancy: 'You look beautiful, my darling. Like an angel.' she complimented, gently caressing the girl's face, before adjusting the subtle, golden tiara that had been placed upon her head.

Pheme was right, tonight she would be their angel, for one night she could forget about blood that still stained her fingertips months on; she could forget that she was a killer, for just one night.

As they entered the large hall, several hands came to shake her own.

'Miss Grenville, you look divine. Who designed that outfit, Vesta Hartley? I hear her designs are to die for.'

'Miss, I must say I was most impressed by your performance in the Games, you must walk me through your every thought.'

'Miss Grenville, are there any handsome victors you have your eye on?'

Feeling like she had been washed ashore by a large wave, Eudoria stood smiling at them awkwardly.

'Miss Grenville will answer all your questions in due time, but now she must go and greet the President.' Pheme announced, silencing them all.

Ushering Eudoria away, they sidestepped through large groups of people, to the grand staircase the President was currently descending.

'Excuse me, President Snow.' Pheme stated, gaining his attention, 'May I present Miss Eudoria Grenville.' her arms gesticulating towards the young girl.

His eyes fell on her. As she reciprocated his gaze, she noticed the harshness of his features and that the white beard that shrouded them; she had met the President after her Games, but she hadn't payed much attention to him, feeling consumed by the bloodshed she had just experienced. Now as she stood focusing on his gaze there was something unnerving about it: something that could strike fear in even the bravest of souls.

That is perhaps why in the next instant her body seemed to act without instruction, as she collapsed at the waist, bowing before the man.

Pheme watched on in horror, the discomfort being evident on her face. A silence fell on the group, in the panic of the moment Eudoria decided that if she remained still it would be as if nothing had ever happened, but it was to no avail.

The silence was only broken when Snow let out a rather large guffaw. 'There is no need for that, my dear.' the laughter still lacing his words, as he lifted her hands, guiding her body to a standing position.