A Victor's Ally - The 73rd Hunger Games (Fanfiction)

nineteen

I looked at myself in the mirror, the long dress and high heels making me look tall and elegant. The shimmery gold gown was a more complex version of the simple dress I wore for my interview. It hugged my every curve, sparkling and catching the light every time I shifted. There was a long slit up the side, much higher than I would have liked, and the neckline plunged lower than any other dresses I had ever worn. Subconsciously, I attempted to tug it higher, but the dress was so tight nothing budged.

My make-up was dark, making me look twenty-five instead of almost eighteen. I knew what kind of look my stylist was going for. The Capitol wanted me look as appealing as possible. There wasn't anything special about me as a victor – my looks were the only thing marketable about me. I internally cringed, knowing that this was the start of the rest of my life as another one of the Capitol's pawns.

My finger lightly traced the thin, faded scar that spanned from the side of my neck and down across my collar bone. When I was finally let out of the hospital, my injuries were almost completely gone except for a few that would take a little more time to heal. The scars were fading, but the memories never would. My body shivered at my own touch, a physical reaction to the memory of Atlas, but my mind felt numb.

I turned away from the mirror and toward Saffra. She had visited me to explain that she would be my stylist for the rest of the time in the Capitol. It certainly wasn't a disappointment to me, as my previous stylist Nimmo had not been my favorite person, but I wondered what had happened to him. I assumed that Luke had pulled some strings to get me the same stylist that he had for his games.

"It's beautiful, Saffra, thank you." I gave her a gracious smile, knowing that she was doing her best to make my time as a Victor as easy as possible. She nodded in return, reaching over to adjust some of the long, dark waves that fell over my shoulders.

"When will I be able to see Luke?" I asked, trying to hide the eagerness from my voice. The past few days when I was confined to the hospital bed, the only faces I had seen were those of unfamiliar doctors and Capitolites. Saffra was the only other person I had seen so far, but I knew tonight that would change. I had been lonely and terrified ever since I woke outside the arena, and all I wanted a familiar face. I would even take Barrick at this point.

The older woman averted her eyes, busying herself with adjusting the bottom of my dress. "He had business to attend to, but he'll be at the Victory Banquet. you'll be able to talk to him later tonight."

My stomach felt queasy and I wondered what 'business' he had to attend to. I knew that the Capitol was always whisking him away, but I never knew exactly what he was doing. All I wanted was to see my best friend again. I hoped that nothing else had happened; I didn't understand why he hadn't come to see me as soon as I got out of the arena. I wondered if President Snow had found out that Luke and I were friends before the games. Briefly, I sorted through my less agonizing memories from the arena, wondering if I had given anything away. I couldn't think of anything, but the President had his ways of finding out even the most personal things. Now that I was a Victor, it didn't see how it would matter if it was known that Luke and I knew each other before I was reaped, but something was telling me that it would only be used against us.

Before I could ask any more questions, I was deemed ready by Saffra, and an Avox came to whisk me away to where the citizens of Panem were waiting for me. The room I was getting ready in was connected to the stage, so I only had to go a short way before I was waiting behind the curtains. It was the same place I had waited in before the tribute interviews. Without the other twenty-four tributes, the space seemed huge, empty, and lonely. I could hear the faint roar of the crowd, and I felt frozen in my place as the faces of the dead tributes appeared in front of me. I could almost picture Hank and Laurette standing near me, whispering to each other before they were sent on stage.