𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑨𝑯𝑳𝑰𝑨, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍

Over the next few days Finnick stayed faithful to his promise, helping Dahlia recover more of her repressed memories and discover the truth for herself. He was patient and compassionate, never once complaining about her constant questions and answering each one with as much detail as he could. And each day, Dahlia fell more and more in love with him. Because without Finnick, Dahlia wasn't complete. He was the piece of her that was missing all along.

"Your favourite colour is blue. Real or not real?"

"Real."

With his encouragement, Dahlia's life started to make more sense and all the stories were starting to fit together in the timeline of her existence. She remembered important people that the Capitol had tried to erase, recalled her harrowing experiences in the Games and relived some of the worst moments from her life. Finding her mother and sister dead, watching Lavender die in the Games, holding Cove as she took her last breath... She despised Snow and the Madame for stealing those memories from her. They had shaped her into the woman she was, became her reason to keep fighting. The more she started to remember, the angrier she grew.

"The Capitol taught me to wield a sword. Real or not real?"

"Not real."

That anger only increased once Finnick told her the story of Alaric Silvers. Her father. Not by blood or legality, but in everything else. The man who raised her. The man who saved her. He taught her how to survive, how to win and how to endure. And she had taught him to keep fighting. She wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him, and the Capitol had taken that away from her. They had tainted his legacy and destroyed his sacrifice. She could never forgive them for that.

And when she finally worked up the courage to watch the footage from her Games, Finnick sat by her side the whole time. Together, hand in hand, they witnessed her become a killer for the first time. Apollo, the death that became the start of a massacre. She forced herself to watch each tribute's death, every life she took, and remember their names. Because if she didn't, who would?

Apollo, Crystal, Caspian, Victoria, Ryker, Jean... Wyatt.

Seven children who never got a chance to grow older, because of her.

"Not real," Finnick had told her the moment she uttered those words. "Because of Snow. It's his fault. Not yours."

Because of Snow.

But those weren't the last of Dahlia's victims. There were those who got hurt along the way simply by being associated with her.

Cove, Lavender, Annie, Rosie, her mother...

Those she lost in the Quarter Quell.

Alaric, Mags, Wiress and the other fallen members of the Alliance...

Those she was ordered to kill.

Juno, dozens of innocent rebels...

The lists could go on and on, and the guilt would linger forever. The guilt was real.

"But you can't let it control your life." Finnick advised her when she confided in him. "The past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited or erased. It can only be accepted."

If he could accept all the sickening things she had done, then she could as well. There was no point clinging to the past when all she could see was a future with him. But before she could envision much of a life with Finnick, there came a visit from President Coin herself.

"I heard you've been making great progress." The woman mused as she wandered around the room with a judgemental sneer on her face. Dahlia didn't answer, just nodded her head as she reached blindly behind her for Finnick's hand. It was her first time meeting Alma Coin and, so far, she wasn't a huge fan. The woman seemed to be circling the entwined pair like a hawk, attempting to sniff out any sign of weakness. But she would get nothing out of Finnick and Dahlia. They were impossible to crack and even stronger when they were together. "Any slip ups?"

"None." Dahlia replied dutifully, keeping her eye on the President at all times. Her experience in the Capitol had taught her to be wary of those who enjoyed their positions of power. There's no telling what they would do if that power was threatened.

"Hmm." Coin hummed cynically, nodding her head while deep in thought. "Have you had any bouts of... homicidal rage? A sudden desire to kill?" Dahlia glanced behind her to send Finnick a look of incredulity, but he had the same expression of disbelief on his face. Coin was acting like Dahlia was a predator surrounded by prey, struggling to suppress her hunger and fighting to control her savage urges. The President had no knowledge of the situation at all, no idea that Dahlia was in complete control of herself. Coin was only questioning Dahlia because of her own fears, not out of concern for the girl herself. "Any moments of madness or anger?"

"Right now." Dahlia grumbled under her breath in annoyance, causing Finnick to lean down and muffle his spluttering laughter in her hair. At Coin's look of confusion and suspicion, Dahlia quickly responded with a much more appropriate answer, "No, Madam President. Thanks to the efforts of Finnick and Haymitch, I've been completely rehabilitated."

The woman eyed the pair warily as they plastered innocent grins on their faces, Finnick's chin resting on Dahlia's shoulder from behind and his arms wrapped around her waist. Eventually, Coin dismissed their childish behaviour and declared, "Good. So you two will be ready for action if you're needed."

"Ready for action?" Finnick repeated, all humour disappearing from his face as his grip tightened on Dahlia's body. "You're wanting to put us in the field?"

"Eventually." Coin confirmed with a smug smirk tugging at the edge of her lips. "You're two of the best fighters the Hunger Games has ever produced. Your skills are invaluable to our cause. But everyone has to pull their weight in District Thirteen and that includes Victors. You will be expected to prove your loyalty."

Dahlia's eyes dart up to Finnick, who seemed dismayed at the suggestion of actually fighting in the war. He was exhausted. They both were. Neither wanted to leave the bubble of peace they had created in the past few days. But it seemed Coin had come to interrupt their happy illusion and reintroduce them to the reality outside. They were not interested in war, but the war was interested in them. And Dahlia knew it would be difficult to get out of this.

"Fine." Dahlia gave in without too much argument, surprising both Finnick and President Coin. "But we'll do it on our own terms. We will pick our fight. We will choose when and where we are deployed. And you won't make us your own personal pawns in another edition of the Hunger Games."

Her words weren't questions, they were statements. Dahlia wasn't giving Coin a choice. It was her way or no way. And she knew that Coin needed the pair more than they needed her. So she had to agree with Dahlia's assertive requests.

"Alright, Miss Blossom." Coin conceded politely, her smirk falling ever so slightly. She was trying to disguise her wounded pride, but Dahlia could see that she was secretly seething inside. Coin didn't like having her power challenged and, right now, she was having to give in to a lot of demands from Victors. It was beginning to rattle her nerves. "But in the end, your final placement will be decided by me, no matter what your own decision is."

"We'll see." Dahlia quipped back, resisting the woman's attempts to regain control and claim dominance over the conversation. Now more irked than ever, Coin turned on her heel and stormed out the door without another word. "Are we sure she's a better option than Snow?"

"Neither are particularly ideal." Finnick mumbled in disapproval, swaying their connected bodies back and forth in comfort. "But at least Coin hasn't attempted to suppress your memories and brainwash you into assassinating her enemies."

"Yet." Dahlia added darkly, sensing that the District Thirteen leader wasn't her biggest fan.

Spinning Dahlia around by her hips until they were face to face, Finnick leaned down to press his forehead against hers. As they stared into each others' eyes, Finnick analysed her expression as he asked, "Are you sure you're okay with joining this war?"

"Not really." Dahlia replied truthfully, knowing there was no point in trying to lie to Finnick when he was gazing at her so intently. "But we've been involved in this fight right from the very beginning. We can't stop now." Finnick could see the fire burning in her eyes, like lumps of coal fuelling the blaze of rebellion, and he knows he has his Dahlia back. Instinctively, his hands travelled up her body with a feathery touch as she continued, "We're part of the reason the war even started. We should be the reason it comes to an end."

As Finnick's hands reached her jaw and settled themselves on her cheeks, a proud grin appeared on his face. "There's my little flower." He murmured lovingly, before closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to hers.

He kissed her like a starved man tasting the sweetest of fruits, his hands cradling her face with such care and desperation. Dahlia mirrored his passion, snaking her fingers to clasp round the back of his neck and tug at the golden hair resting against his skin. The months of separation, days of doubt and confusion, all of it was being poured into this fiery embrace. They breathed each other in like oxygen, pulling their bodies impossibly closer until their souls seemed to fuse into one. Finally, they felt complete. Finally, they had found home. And it was real.

As they were forced to separate for air, Dahlia felt the barriers the Madame had constructed in her mind burst open and her memories flooded back in full force. Suddenly she remembered every single moment she had ever shared with Finnick. Every lingering touch, every giddy smile, every longing glance.

She had always loved him and, these past few days, she had fallen in love with him all over again.

Collecting Finnick's hand in her own, Dahlia beamed up at him blissfully with a look he'd been craving to see ever since he lost her. And then she squeezed his hand three times. "I love you, Finn. I love you so much." She announced confidently, happy tears gathering in her eyes at the confession. "Even when I don't know my own name, I will always remember yours. I will always remember you, Finnick Odair."

Finnick couldn't stop himself from diving back in and capturing her lips once more. They both found themselves smiling into the kiss, radiating a glow that would rival that of the sun's rays. "I love you, my little flower." Finnick mumbled through dozens of little pecks, forever unsatisfied when he had to pull away. He had an insatiable desire that only Dahlia could appease.

But as they stayed wrapped in each others embrace, a deep fear hit Dahlia. They would soon be entering a war zone. Who knew whether they would make it out alive? Coin certainly wouldn't care if they lived or died, but Dahlia did. She refused to die without becoming officially bonded to Finnick, and he to her. She knew what she wanted to do.

Reluctantly separating from Finnick, Dahlia gazed up at him with warm eyes and timidly stated, "You said you were going to marry me one day... Real or not real?"

Finnick's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sudden question, gripping onto Dahlia's cheeks as he answered, "Real."

With a nervous smile, Dahlia asked her final question, "You still want to marry me... now? Real or not real?"

"Real."