❝EVERYTHING REQUIRES SACRIFICE, DOES IT NOT?❞
𓆩⟡𓆪
"I MUST ADMIT... your plan was quite brilliant."
Dolores blinked twice, barely catching the words that came out of his mouth. "What did you just say?" She struggled to refrain from smiling. Oh his compliment was simply too rare to let go and too satisfying to ignore.
"I said that despite the towering odds of failure, it was brilliant," Coriolanus sighed, not bothering to argue anymore as he helped her down the other side of the fence after Otto gave her a little boost. "The audience loved it. I think... you just earned a lot of points in terms of empathy for both our tributes," he whispered in her ear, tugging her close before stepping back. "Thank you, Imber."
She stood there, paralyzed as she comprehended his words. Did I just hear a 'thank you' from the one and only Coriolanus Snow? "I mainly did it for Otto. I did everything, by the way. After you put me on the spot to become both the entertainer and the entertainment," she turned away, huffing as she attempted to brush the dirt off the skirt of her blazing red Academy uniform. "Your little songbird just has a lovely voice."
"You couldn't have done that without me," he scoffed, returning to his previous attitude.
"But you still owe me," Dolores flicked at him. She started walking away after bidding Otto farewell before she went pale. "And... now is a good time for me to use that favor." She retraced her steps until her back was against his chest, her eyes widening as she identified the approacher. She could feel Coriolanus's heart thumping heavily in her position and she almost froze completely.
"Now? I hardly think–" Coriolanus placed both hands on her hips to steady her, sending a jolt through her body. He was quickly cut short by the appearance of Felix Ravinstill. "I see," his blue eyes narrowed.
"Dolly," The President's grandnephew beamed, his white pearly teeth gleaming, "I enjoyed your performance there. It was quite clever of you... as always."
"Save your flattery for someone else," Dolores snapped, trying not to be too distracted by how close she was standing with Coriolanus, "I was just on my way out of the zoo. If you don't mind, I will leave now to finish the proposal which the class has so graciously elected me to do." Sarcasm dripped from her bare voice.
"On your way out of the zoo..." Felix repeated her words slowly, his eyes darting between her and Snow. He straightened his back, smiling with a hidden meaning that made her skin crawl, "Why don't you accompany me for a little, Dolly? I was wondering if–"
Dolores hated it when he called her 'Dolly', like she was some kind of doll that would play along with his tune. Ever since her first year at the Academy, Felix Ravinstill had been bothering her nonstop, toying with her and stealing bits and bits of her precious time. How damn long will it take you to take a bloody hint?
She didn't give a damn that he was the President's grandnephew or if he offered her a more than perfect job using his connections. He was dead wrong if he thought that she would cave over bribery. Even in poverty over the loss of her parents and the constant teachings she endured from Dean Highbottom and Dr. Gaul, Dolores would never let go of her pride and her honor.
"She said 'no', Felix," Coriolanus cut in. His grip on her tightened, preventing Dolores from even stepping away. Her heart pounded in her chest, though nothing could compare to the tempo his heart was beating. The heart that was pressed tightly to her back. Aren't you afraid that I'd stab you? She couldn't help but wonder this absurd thought.
"Last I checked, Dolly hated it when someone else spoke for her," the other mentor glared at him with the same intensity. "So if she could kindly give me her own–"
"Last time I checked, she hated it when someone else spoke as if they knew her," he retorted. There was something about his tone that hinted at anger– though Dolores couldn't quite place why. Well, she couldn't even fathom why he was helping her anyway. Right, he owes me, she reminded herself, feeling a strange sense of disappointment at the thought. Don't tell me you expected another reason?
"A 'no' is a 'no', Felix," Dolores said at last. With her breath hitched, she carefully stepped away from Coriolanus, willing the red on her cheeks to not show.
Felix's ears were starting to redden with rage. His eyes were now unkind and dark, "So you would step into that disgusting cage filled with those savages and not even spare a minute for me? They are dirty, mannerless animals, Dolly– animals!" His voice rose with each syllable he uttered, until the crowd had turned their attention towards them. "Your pathetic little tribute is not going to last a second in that arena! Even if my tribute is useless and broken, the others will crush his face on that pavement and laugh as a little nobody like him bleeds out! And him," his eyes flashed at Coriolanus, "You would rather–"
Before she knew it, her hand had already moved. It stung from the impact but she ignored it. Fury scorched her veins. Dolores watched as Coriolanus's eyes widened in shock, seeing what she had done. She had slapped the president's grandnephew across the face. And she did not feel even a tinge of remorse from her actions.
"Dolly–" Felix Ravinstill tried to reach towards her only for his hand to be slapped away as well.
"Don't touch me," she sneered. It was taking all of her self-control, whatever she had left, to refrain from lunging at him. Oh how she would enjoy smearing his face across the pavement like he threatened to do with Otto– Dolores willed herself to calm down, turning on her heel and storming off the other way.
"Imber–" Coriolanus tried next, following right behind her. His voice was gentle. So stupidly gentle that it made her want to falter. "He's the president's–"
"He deserved it!" Her voice cracked as she whirled around, staring him in the eyes. He had also insulted Coriolanus, did he not care about his own name at all? This wasn't like him, to remain so composed while his name was sullied. I didn't do it for him, I did it because he insulted Otto, she repeated in her head, trying to accept a twist of the blatant truth.
The silver-blonde mentor stumbled back when he saw the storm of emotions in her eyes, "Calm down, Imber. You're being completely irrational right now. Even if I'd love nothing more than to see him getting beat–"
She shut him up with one sharp glare. Her head stung from a headache. The rational half of her mind told her to run back and apologize before he ran to his grand-uncle in a fit of tears but the other, the one currently dominating her consciousness, beamed at the sight of his suffering. That was the part of her brain that hurt as Coriolanus defended him. You shouldn't care, Dolores scolded herself, You shouldn't care at all, Dolly. But the stupid thing was, she did. Coriolanus only made her feel worse with each word he said. "If you think I'd ever apologize, you are wrong, Snow."
"Oh I know you well enough to know that, Imber."
"It's horrendous! All of it!" She lashed out when they were finally at a certain distance away from the enclosure where there was finally no audience. She plopped down on one of the steps facing the zoo, letting her anger cool. Dolores sat in silence for half a second, her eyes settled on Otto, who was staring at his hands clearly lost in thought or occasionally murmuring words of comfort to his District partner.
A spectacle, that was what it was supposed to be. Entertainment, what they were supposed to turn it into. And yet looking at the tributes, some of them no older than twelve, she didn't find a particle of satisfaction. Not even after the successful show she had just hosted. A show that required a perfect little smile on her face.
She felt sick to her stomach.
The thought of Otto dying. The thought of her friend dying.
Coriolanus stiffened and turned to look at her, his eyes searching hers before sighing, snapping out of his thoughts, "Yes it is." He tore his eyes away from her piercing gaze and instead, took a seat next to her.
"They are treated like animals. But in what way are they actually any different than any of us?" She hated being seen looking so weak– especially when it was in front of him. But Felix's words had more of an impact than she had thought. Warmth pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill with all the emotions she had kept bottled up. "They sing, they dance and laugh. More than us. Each dearer to each other than we could ever be."
Coriolanus took another look at her, his eyes lingering longer this time, "You mean between us, people of the Capitol, and them, the tributes?" A tired laugh escaped his lips, "I mean, they're just people like us, Imber. They... are not different, not really. They're human. In many ways, more human than we will ever be."
"Then are we the monsters keeping them, humans, trapped?" Dolores whispered softly, propping her chin up with one hand. She refused to cry– never cry, because she didn't deserve to. She didn't deserve to cry like Otto did when he was the one locked in that cage while she still roamed free, putting on a smile.
Her statement seemed to have rendered him speechless... almost like he had never thought of the Hunger Games in exactly those terms— though it was not like she had ever thought otherwise before this as well. "Maybe we are," Coriolanus whispered back at last. Or maybe we are also the ones who are trapped, he never got to finish.
"We study at the Academy, dedicate our whole lives to the Capitol, spend our days enduring and fighting for a future... but for what? A country that is broken down in shambles?" Dolores clenched her hands into fists, wincing as her nails dug into her skin. Her eyes warmed with the hot sensation of rising tears, "A country that throws kids to the wolves for a war that already ended?"
His blue eyes studied her expression, clearly seeing through her act and noting her intensive eyes, "You sound like Sejanus." His voice was thick with emotion, like he had come to some sort of consensus with himself.
"Sejanus?" Dolores scoffed, "No, I don't hate him nor do I wish to follow in his righteous footsteps in any way. His methods will never change anything. Because he fails to acknowledge that the only thing that can change the world's endless spinning is power. Power enacts change," She blinked, almost in disbelief from her own exclamation, "The one thing that can reign the chaos in Panem is power." She repeated the words, tasting them in her mouth before feeling a sense of understanding flowing through her body.
The understanding was chilling– like the truth, as it can never be perfect and warm without a tinge of fear and order. Many fight for a spot in the University for power... but Dolores? She had never actively seeked power. She only ever wanted to survive. And to survive, I need power, She realized with a start. "But to what ends should we be willing to go for power? To what end, do you think, is it justified to fight for power?"
"Everything requires sacrifice, does it not?" Coriolanus murmured, he reached forward slowly. Their fingers brushed, the warmth of his hands slowly spreading to her own as he gripped her hand tightly, stopping her trembling. Comfort. She felt oddly comforted by his touch.
"What use would power be if humanity is sacrificed for it? Then we would become the very monsters we swore to destroy." She looked at her other bare, pale hand, reminiscing of the sensation when she danced with Otto. Oh what would she give to live freely, dance freely, and speak freely in a world where humans don't cast children into the arena like lambs to slaughter?
"Then perhaps power is not worth it," His thumb glided across the smooth skin on her palm, drawing small circles and steadying her heartbeat. His deep blue eyes lifted to meet her own violet ones, never clearer than it was now.
The moment felt timeless as he looked at her with an inexplicable emotion, so full of warmth and fondness that lit sparks across her skin from his touch. The moment which made her feel like home. They were similar— too similar to her liking. To the point that it was comforting and foreign. And when something was unfamiliar, she knew she had every right to be scared.
No, in that moment, Dolores didn't feel fear at all, only a raw understanding of the boy before her. His silver blonde hair that glowed where the sun kissed and those beautiful blue eyes which were the only ones she would ever find whenever she entered a room.
The boy who put a smile on her face during their every banter and argument. He was her rival, the biggest obstacle between her and the Plinth Prize... but in that moment, she just couldn't have cared less. Just this moment, she begged silently, just let it last for a second longer.
Since when? She asked herself quietly as their fingers intertwined, another fragment of joy invading her bloodstream. Ah, but I don't know. Hope had never felt so near, nor had it felt so wonderful and dangerous at the same time. So she dared herself to be brave.
I like this, Dolores decided. And perhaps she could hope for something more.
But of course, like all other good things in her life that had come to an abrupt stop, a blood-curdling scream erupted in the crowd in the distance, in the direction of the zoo. Coriolanus and Dolores leapt apart from each other, pretending like nothing had ever happened, his touch still lingering on her hands, like the kiss of sunlight before it was washed away by the cold morning breeze. A ghost of something that never existed.
Dolores couldn't help but smile wryly as she thought of how similar that scene was. Every moment between them shared, like a fleeting memory of a bird's song in the morning before one awoke from their slumber, wondering if they had only dreamt of it.
There were no words exchanged between them as the two ran toward the origin of the scream. Elbows and legs came from all sides, jostling her as they fought their way forward, in the same direction. She didn't even struggle against them, wishing that perhaps one more jab would wake her up— until she was back in her strong, composed self. Ironic, Dolores thought to herself as she stumbled out of the crowd, breaking free of the sea of news reporters and children.
The metallic scent of blood flooded the air.
Coriolanus's face went pale as his blue eyes saw the scene ahead. "Help...me..." Arachne Crane knelt on the pavement, gasping as life seeped through the wound on her throat. A glossy sheen of crimson painted the pavement as she clawed at her throat before collapsing, weak breaths still barely escaping. Her throat had been slit by her own tribute.
Terror creeped up her legs, forcing Dolores to stumble. No... she had never imagined... Oh her body was numb, her legs were paralyzed, buckling under the weight of the world. Alive... dead...
Arachne Crane's demise... a girl... her own tribute... a District.
A prey had become a predator. And... Otto. She forced herself to look forward, searching the cage for a familiar face before meeting her friend's eyes. "Wait—!" A scream erupted from her lungs as the Peacekeepers turned their weapons towards the tributes and fired. Her ears rang from the sound of gunfire and the shrieks that filled the air. Blood roared in her ears, her heart threatening to burst from her ribcage.
Dolores fell to her knees. There was no regaining her composure this time. Please... Otto... She felt so stupid, so helpless and useless and she had learned to despise this feeling. No, the only way she could've stopped this was... if she had power.
A sea of crimson leaked to her feet. Arachne's tribute. Her blood tinted the bottom of her shoes, the material on her knees and coated her fingers. Blood... on her hands. Her hands trembled profusely before clenching them into fists, the blood still dripping down.
In the pursuit of a dream, she had forgotten her true purpose. "Perhaps power is not worth it," she whispered his words to herself as she scrambled to her feet, refusing to cower. The cameras were still on despite the chaos. And as long as she was breathing, she refused to present herself as anything else but Dolores Imber, the prodigy of the Academy. "Oh, but it is."
Power was everything. And if her humanity would be the price, then she would gladly pay it. If it means that she will survive. If it meant that she could protect the ones she wanted to protect. No, she will never play the doll in anyone else's puppet show.