[Finnick Odair] The Trident and the Book Thief

A Room of One's Own

She’s the last person Eleni wants to see. She’s wearing some god-awful pink gown that makes her resemble a cupcake. Her voice, she considers, was designed specifically to creep under her skin and separate it from the muscle. She feels every inch of her is scrutinized. She wraps her hands around her chest.

“The rope is very… well last season.” Octavia says in her nasally way. “And all those jewels, Eleni. How terribly gauche! I can’t believe you’re wearing a Cinna. He’s only an apprentice. I’m wearing Claudius. Isn’t it fabulous? The fabric is so luxurious!”

“You and I have a different definition of fabulous.” Eleni glances at Finnick. The poor man looks like he wants to be swallowed up the floor. Thankfully for him, Octavia can not make any public show of love, not when her betrothed stands just three feet away. “Maximus is wearing a Cinna too.”

“That’s because you dress Maximus. If he’d let me dress him he wouldn’t be having such a bother finding a wife.” Octavia squeaks. “Anyway. You’re boring me sweet sister. Enjoy your little job. Perhaps I’ll see you soon Odair.”

“No he won’t.” Eleni mouths. It’s a small victory.

She’s short and the opposite of sweet, yet Eleni is thankful for the former. Finnick squirms and she hands him her drink. He downs it.

“For the record.” She says to Mags and Finnick. “The only reason my brother is having such a hard time finding a wife is because he’d rather a husband.”

Mags lets out a squeak. Finnick smirks and Eleni seems comforted by his warmth. She glances at her watch. It’s getting late. There’s only one more person she needs to talk to. It will look odd if she doesn’t. It’s a formality. A very rich one.

“You both should head back. There’s one more thing I have to do, yet I’d rather do it alone.” She says to them, and they don’t argue.

He’s sitting on a couch with some of his peers. He’s wearing a slick black suit with grey floral etching and his hair is tousled and dark. The only feature of him that’s striking is the small noose under his left eye, tattooed with bluing ink. He scoots along to make room for her and loops an arm around her waist. She doesn’t like his friends. They are sly like foxes and talk in riddles. They think she’s stupid and that what they say goes over her head.

“You want some money for your tributes my dear?” Janus says to her. His voice is cool, like ice. “You’ll have it. Whatever you need.”

“A trident.” She tests him and the table bursts into laughter. Plutarch Heavensbee sits by his right. A slimy man, whom she does not like. They make eye-contact and he surveys her outfit with cruel intensity. “I thought not.”

“Nice dress. It fits you well. Better than on the model.” Another voice comes, soft and smooth. She doesn’t know this man’s name, yet he has kind eyes that make her feel as though she knows him. There’s a sliver of gold eyeliner above his eyes, just enough to make them glow. “Cinna. Pleasure to meet you.”

“You designed my dress.” She’s lost for words for a moment. He nods patiently, as if waiting for the penny to drop, and it does. “Well thank you. It’s lovely. Perfect for District Four. Maximus is wearing you as well.”

“I was inspired by Finnick for that lovely dress of yours. All those knots and twists, the way he made all those nets in the arena. So intricate! He fits you like a glove.” He smiles. Janus shifts uncomfortably.

She excuses herself and kisses Janus’ cheek. His company gets stranger every day, yet she does not care to question it. She has a choice before her. She could go back to her own room, as some escorts choose to do, and keep her interference to a minimum. Conversely, she can join the team fully and live in District Four’s suite. She’ll have a room there and shared facilities. She’ll see her tributes everyday and the mentors too. One comes with her sister and the other comes with Finnick Odair, and whilst neither prospect delights her, one feels more liberating.

That’s how she finds herself in a living area with four surprised residents of District Four. Shaun glances at her outfit and goes pink at the cheeks. Delia looks as though she wants to detangle all of her knots and anchor a ship with them. Mags squeaks and Finnick only narrows his eyes.

“I’m part of the team. Which room am I having?” She asks,

They look at eachother confused.