[Finnick Odair] The Trident and the Book Thief

The Bell Jar

“The Plinth family don't do rings, it’s like I said, they’re District. District Two to be exact. I’ll get a lovely tattoo. Just here, to match my husband’s” She points to a blank spot below her eye. “He has a noose. He never tells anyone why. Perhaps I’ll take comfort in that noose one night while he lies sleeping.”

“Or slip some poison into his drink. Just like Grandpa Snow.” He laughs and she feels guilty as she chuckles. “Then you can just say he had the flu…”

“At least no one is making you marry Octavia.” Eleni says. He looks angry with her for a second, yet it dissolves as he watches her bite her nails down into the quick.

“At least no one dropped you into the arena and made you kill your friends.” He narrows his eyes. The distance between them feels insurmountable again. She bobs her head. She knows he’s right. Whatever she goes through, whatever pain or agony, it will never compare. “I’m comforted to know that no one is happy, not even pretty rich girls from the Capitol.”

“It’ll be over one day. I’m certain.” She moves away from the bar and stands by the window. “In all the stories I’ve ever read, it all falls apart. Tyranny is always answered in the end. The scales always flip. One day it’ll be me on the end of your trident and I’ll be begging you to go home. No one will ever care that I didn’t like it. My rebellion was silent. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Perhaps… they were just stories.” Finnick says. “Maybe this does go on forever. You grandfather dies, then your father takes over, then your brother and on and on it goes, and all the while the bodies are piled higher and higher.”

Sleep doesn’t come at all that night. Finnick passes out on the sofa. She watches him write in the throes of some nightmare. He says a word in the heat of it. Just one word, over and over. It drives her mad. No. No. No.