Amara howled with laughter as she stared down at the two glass necklaces that had been made. In an effort to keep the decision as neutral as possible, Mags had taken both Finnick's and Adrien's designs and swapped them behind her back before presenting them to Amara.
They were both looking at her tensely as she stared down at them.
"Is there a rubric?" Corinne asked. "What exactly are you judging them on?"
"Which one is prettier," the boys said in unison.
Amara placed the two necklaces side by side as she studied them. The one on the right was in the shape of a tear drop with four tiny blue flowers pressed into it. The necklace on the left was an actual flower. It was a daisy made of glass. It had been intricately designed, and it was clear that both necklaces had been designed with love and care.
She looked back and forth between them, and it seemed that everyone held their breath.
She pointed to the teardrop necklace, and Finnick jumped for joy. Adrien groaned, and flopped back in his seat. Amara paid her cheerful friend no attention, however, and turned back to Adrien.
"Are daisies Annie's favorite flower?" she asked. Adrien grinned and nodded. He rolled his eyes as he looked at Finnick. Corinne and Mags were snickering between the two of them.
"I'm not entirely sure how impartial the judging was," Corinne said. Finnick paused and looked over at her, his eyes narrowed.
"What does that mean?" he asked slowly. Corinne just shrugged.
"Well, Finnick knows exactly what Amara likes, right?" she asked. "So he would know how to design a necklace that she would choose."
"I would have chosen Adrien's," Mags said, and Corinne nodded in agreement. This time, it was Adrien jumping around and whooping while Finnick just shook his head.
"Amara was our judge," Finnick said. "I still won."
Mags, Amara, and Corinne watched as the two began loudly (and playfully) arguing over whose was better. Just as it looked like there might be a conclusion to their argument, a timer went off. Amara jumped up and turned it off, grabbing oven mitts and pulling their dinner out of the oven.
The room went silent as they all breathed in the scent of their food. Then, they all let out a sigh of contentment as they watched Amara bring it over to the table.
"It's mussels with harissa and basil," Amara said proudly. All four of her guests leaned in to savor the smell. She had to bite back a laugh. "I'm told that it is a delicacy in Four, and I thought you could use a hint of home."
Amara had never seen four people dig in faster. She was suddenly thrilled that she happened to be cooking a second dish. She wasn't sure what they would do when they found out about the lobster thermidor, but she was watching them inhale their food like none of them would be eating soon.
Granted, there were two of them who could be dead in two weeks. So, she supposed she wouldn't comment on their manners as they tore into the dinner.
"Where did you learn how to make this?" Adrien asked between mouthfuls.
"Annie sent me the recipe," she said proudly. They all stopped eating mid-bite.
"What?" Finnick asked with his food still in his mouth.
"We started writing back and forth a few months ago, and she suggested this dish. I tried it a few times, fell in love, and thought you would like it too."
Adrien looked like he might cry.
"So," Finnick quickly cut in before he did. "How was training today?"
Amara sat up straight, and looked at the tributes. She'd never gotten the chance to really see this side of things, and she was excited about it.
Corinne and Adrien exchanged a long glance.
"We can't partner with the other careers," Corinne declared. "They're brutal."
"They're careers," Finnick pointed out, and Adrien shrugged.
"So are we, but you don't see us tormenting the younger kids."
Mags winced. "What were they doing?"
"The girl from eight is only twelve," Adrien said. "And she was desperately looking for allies. She's smart enough to know she'll need it if she's going to stay alive. The other careers started throwing her around a bit. They were tugging on her pigtails and tripping her."
"They were making her look weak," Finnick said, understanding. Corinne nodded.
"It was horrible to watch. She was crying in the corner by the end of the day, and it was only day one."
Mags and Finnick exchanged a look as they studied their tributes.
"You want to ally with her," Mags realized, her face softening. Corinne and Adrien glanced at each other before nodding.
"We recognize it isn't conventional," Adrien said. "But we want to partner with her and the other one-- the thirteen-year-old from eleven."
"Do it," Finnick said, but Mags was shaking her head.
"This is not a good idea."
"They'll be seen as compassionate. You'll need to play that up because the Capitol wants someone they can fall in love with." Amara glanced over at him curiously. "You need to give them something to root for, and protecting the younger kids is a sure way to gain support."
"We thought the same thing," Corinne said.
"Besides," Adrien added. "They're kids. We should try and keep them alive as long as possible. If it comes down to it, we can make the death relatively painless."
Amara watched the conversation bounce back and forth in horror.
"But..." she trailed off. "Surely you want to help them win. They're so little."
The other four glanced at each other.
"Amara," Finnick said quietly. "Twenty-four children will go into that arena. Only one will come out."
"In two weeks, one or both of us will be dead." Corinne said. Amara glanced at Adrien, who looked away from her.
"But that little girl is a child," Amara said. They were talking about a twelve-year-old girl.
"We're all children," Adrien said, "even if we had to grow up too fast."
**
Later in the evening, when everyone was gone and Amara was washing dishes, her mind was running so rapidly that she was barely able to keep up with all her thoughts.
She'd been so distant from the games for most of her life that she'd never really thought about them until Finnick came along.
They really were children. Odds were, half of her dinner table would be dead soon. They were just children. They were her age. They were teenagers. Adrien had a girlfriend. In his spare time, he made jewelry out of glass of her favorite flower.
He was being sent into an arena to fight to the death.
What about all the other kids? What did their stories look like?
She fell in love with the tributes that talked about their families and their loved ones back home. But every single one of the kids that went into that arena had families that were desperate for them to come home.
There was 1,608 families that lost someone they loved to a brutal fight to the death that never should have happened?
Amara pulled herself out of bed to look out over the Capitol. From here, she could see the movement of people walking from one place to the next, and she wondered if they would be content to do so if they had to worry about their children being killed.
Probably not.
She padded out into the kitchen and looked over at the piano. When she was twelve, she was singing. There were children who were going out and dying at that age. Now, at seventeen, there would be people that were born the same year as her that would be fighting to the death.
Carefully, she sat down at the piano and began to lightly tap out a tune. It was a deep, slow, sorrowful song for the 1,608 children that were slaughtered in that arena. She allowed herself to mourn for the families, for the districts, and as she thought about Finnick, for the mentors that sent children into the arena year after year only to watch them die.
**
Finnick and Amara barely saw each other over the duration of the training week. Finnick spent all his time focusing on Adrien. He was determined to help his friend make it out of the arena and back home to Annie.
They went back down to the underground training room late into the night so that Finnick could help him identify all the different plants that could kill him, the ways to build traps, and simple survival techniques.
For the most part, they were reviewing things that they'd spent a significant amount of time on over the last few years, but Finnick was the first to admit that he spent more time teaching Adrien how to kill and defend himself more than anything else.
Finnick and Amara saw each other twice before the interviews with Caesar. The first time they saw each other was two nights before the interviews. Amara wasn't expecting to see either of them until they were backstage waiting to meet Caesar, but was more than happy when Penny called to let her know that she had visitors.
"Mr. Odair and his tribute are here for you," Penny announced. Amara let them in, but there was a mad scramble to throw dishes in the sink and make sure her clothes were tucked away before they arrived.
"Are you okay?" Adrien asked, surprised that she was so out of breath when she answered the door. Amara nodded, gasping for air as she opened the door and let them in. Finnick looked her up and down.
"What happened to you?" he asked, but she just waved him off. "Okay," Finnick said as they walked into the apartment and flopped onto the couch. He led Amara over to the chair across from the couch. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions about your life that are similar to what Caesar would ask you. Your job is to make Amara cry."
Adrien and Amara exchanged a look.
"What?" Adrien asked.
"Why?" Amara added.
Finnick adjusted the papers he had in his hands. It was a list of common questions Caesar asked the previous tributes.
"Because Amara is apart of the Capitol elite. This interview is all about sponsors, and they need to fall in love with you for that to happen. You need to invoke emotion in them for that to happen."
Adrien nodded, but Amara seemed to hesitate. She wasn't sure she like being clumped together with the Capitol elite. She liked it even less that there wasn't anything wrong with what Finnick said. She was apart of the elite members of society.
"So, Adrien, I think we were all very excited to see two young people volunteer for their district. Tell me, what was it like volunteering for Ripley?"
Adrien paused. "Who is Ripley?"
Finnick groaned. "The boy that was reaped before you jumped in."
"Oh! I don't know him."
"Remember, you're putting on a show. You need them to like you or you will die in that arena. All of this is just entertainment for them."
Amara was liking this less and less. Adrien cleared his throat and started over.
"It breaks my heart to see someone that young reaped," he said. "I've been waiting for my chance to bring honor to my district."
"Nothing about honor," Finnick interrupted.
"It breaks my heart to see someone that young reaped," he said again. "I think its our duty as a nation to step in and help those less fortunate. I had an opportunity to save a boy from the games, and I took it."
Amara smiled slightly, and Finnick noticed.
"But going into that arena, you won't have the opportunity to protect your other tributes," Finnick said, and Adrien shook his head sadly.
"It kills me that I won't be able to save them without risking everything, but I made a promise that I would come home, and I intend to keep that promise."
"Your family must be very proud. Your dad was a victor in the 43rd games. Tell us about that. What was it like growing up like that?"
"I understood from an early age that being a victor was an honor. The Capitol has been so gracious and generous in taking care of my district and my family. I'm ready to honor my district, my father, and my family. I've been training hard this week, thanks to the generosity of the Capitol, and have gained a lot of skill with the double swords they offer. I'm have high hopes for the arena, and I think my score reflects it."
Finnick looked over at Amara.
"You look bored," he noticed. Amara shrugged.
"You sound like you're reading out of a book. A very boring book on the art of flattery. None of this sounds like you."
Finnick nodded in agreement, and Adrien slouched slightly.
"Also, don't mention anything specific about your weaponry. The other mentors and tributes should not know what your preferred weapon is or they will use that against you."
"So what do you want me to do?" he asked, and watched in concern as Amara and Finnick exchanged a look. They appeared to be having a silent conversation between the two of them.
"Do you have any tokens from your district?" she asked. Finnick, thankfully, finally remembered the bracelet that Annie gave him before they departed. "Here's what you're going to do."
**
No one was expecting Amara to show up when she knocked on the door with a bag of chocolate.
It was Reiner who answered. He looked cheerful as he held out his hand to greet her. Amara had heard Reiner talked about in great detail, but had surprisingly never met the man.
"I loved your dress at the Tribute Parade," he said as they walked into the apartment. "Who designed it?"
"Jade does everything," Amara gushed. "She's absolutely incredible. She is practically my right hand woman, and I'm not sure how I've ever been able to survive without her."
"Amara!" Corinne called out, grabbing her attention away from the young stylist. "We didn't know you were coming."
Amara held up the bag of chocolate with a smile.
"I thought you could use the support." Corinne and Adrien groaned in delight at the sight of the bag, and Finnick scoffed.
"You act like we don't feed you here," he muttered. Amara tossed the bag to the tributes and hopped on the couch next to Finnick, who threw his arm on top of the couch near her head. It was a casual move that neither Finnick nor Amara paid attention to, but everyone else in the room exchanged looks.
When Caesar and Claudius appeared on screen, they all began to pay attention. Unsurprisingly, the careers got nines and tens. The girl from three got a seven, and the boy got an eight.
"And now for District Four," Claudius said. Amara held her breath. "Adrien Mackabee with a score of..."
"C'mon Caesar," Amara said through gritted teeth.
"Nine."
The room exploded. Adrien sighed in relief, and Finnick cheered. Amara leapt up and tackled Adrien in a hug, causing him to laugh.
"And finally," the room quieted down. Amara reached over and grabbed Corinne's hand. "Corinne Meyer with a score of...seven."
The room let out a collective breath. Both scores were high enough that sponsors would have no problem sending them gifts.
Corinne and Adrien looked at each other and nodded. They had a chance to survive this thing.