The Weight of the Crown

The Artery Beneath The Stone

The next morning, Auren's hands were steady.

She sat on her bed, the room still dim and silent, the fluorescent light above her humming faintly. Nothing around her had changed, the sterile white walls, the faint scent of antiseptic, the low, mechanical breath of the underground compound. But inside her, something had shifted. A quiet urgency pulsed just beneath the surface.

The message was sent.

Now, she had to wait.

She didn't know how long it would take. A day. A week. Maybe more. But she trusted Snow's network, the drones, the analysts, the ever-watching eyes. He would know how to read her signal. He always did.

There was a knock.

Soft. Almost uncertain.

She knew the rhythm now. It was his.

"Come in" she said, schooling her expression into calm.

Finnick stepped inside, a folded blanket in one hand. "You said you were cold," he offered, placing it at the edge of her bed. "Figured this might help."

Auren gave him a faint smile. "Thank you."

He didn't sit. Instead, he lingered at the foot of the bed, watching her quietly.

"I spoke with Coin," he said after a moment.

Her stomach tensed, but she kept her features neutral. "Oh?"

"She wants to meet you."

That caught her off guard.

"Why?"

"She's curious. Whether you like it or not, you're a symbol. And symbols... they matter to a rebellion."

Auren tilted her head. "And if I don't want to be anyone's symbol?"

Finnick gave a dry smile. "Then you're in the wrong story."

She looked down at her hands. Faint marks still circled her wrists from the restraints. Healing, but visible.

"She wants to hear your story" Finnick continued. "Your perspective. Not publicly yet, just to her."

So it was beginning. They were pulling her in. Testing how far they could draw her from what she'd been. How much of her was still theirs.

Auren nodded slowly. "All right. I'll speak to her."

But only what they need to hear, she thought.

Not the truth.

Never the truth.

⚫️

The meeting was brief.

Coin was just as Auren had imagined: composed, sharp, exact. Her silver hair pulled tight, her posture like an arrow ready to be loosed. Her eyes were hard to read, the eyes of someone who saw everything and revealed nothing.

They met in a small office below Command. Finnick sat behind Auren, silent.

Coin didn't waste time.

"You've seen what we are," she said. "What we're trying to build."

Auren met her gaze evenly. "I've seen what you're not."

Coin's head tilted. "Meaning?"

"You're not the Capitol," Auren said. "But you're not peace, either. Not yet."

Something flickered in Coin's expression, approval, maybe. Or calculation.

"We don't claim to be peace," Coin replied. "We claim to be the beginning of something better."

Auren nodded. "Then I want to help."

Finnick shifted behind her, a small movement, like a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Coin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

Auren looked down, then back up.

"Because I'm tired of being someone else's weapon."

The silence that followed was tight. Believable. Perfectly constructed.

Coin gave a short nod.

"We'll test that, Auren. Help comes with responsibility. We may ask you to speak for the rebellion. In time."

"I understand."

But her mind was already racing. Calculating the cost of visibility. The opportunity. A message with a face. One Snow would see and study.

As she left the office, Finnick fell into step beside her. They walked for a long while without speaking.

Eventually, he said, "Didn't think you'd say yes."

She glanced at him, something unreadable in her eyes. "Neither did I."

⚫️

That night, she barely slept.

Her body was still beneath the blanket, but her thoughts ran wild. Scenarios. Variables. Outcomes.

Snow would read the message.

If he acted quickly, they'd be ready.

If he waited... they'd grow bolder.

And if he responded, if he found a way, she would need to be ready to catch it.

There were whispers of new assignments. Possible relocation. Coin wanted her closer to the propaganda team. They were crafting messages now, aimed at the districts. Symbols mattered. And a girl from the Capitol who'd crossed the line could become a powerful one.

She would be at the heart of the machine.

Exactly where she needed to be.

Auren turned her face toward the darkened wall and smiled faintly.

She had found the artery.

And when the time came... she would make it bleed.

(it's a very short chapter I know but I started to lose interest in this fanfiction but I promise you that I will finish it)