Katniss didn't like it here in District Thirteen. It didn't seem to matter how many times she was promised they were safe, it always ended in healers drugging her. She was alone in empty rooms day after day.
The few times she did manage to escape, they always found her and brought her right back. All she could think about was how much it reminded her of the Capitol.
Finnick wasn't overly fond of it either, and neither was Adrien. At least in the Capitol, they pretended to respect the victors, but all District Thirteen saw when they looked at them were murderers.
Finnick always knew he was a killer, but he hated that people looked at him like he was. They were isolated, and their children protected. They had no idea what it was really like out there while they've been hiding away for the last 75 years.
Finnick had taken to obsessively tying knots. He and Adrien would sit in Finnick's hospital room for hours and tie knot after knot.
This is what he was doing when Katniss saw him for the first time. He looked manic as his fingers toyed with the rope. He was barely sleeping these days, but the knots calmed him down. They helped a little bit.
So, when the nightmares woke him up like they always did, he sat up and started tying the rope. He was gasping for breath as he did it, trying desperately not to think about the dream. Her corpse in the center of the Capitol as the mockingjays swarmed her body and pecked out her eyes.
Amara was dead. Amara was always dead in his dreams. Annie was lying next to her as worms slithered out of her eye sockets, and Adrien was sobbing over both their dead bodies, but he stopped just long enough to look up at Finnick and scream that it was all his fault.
Finnick typically woke up in a panic, with tears streaming down his face.
"Finnick," Katniss said, her voice harsh as she stared at the victor breaking down before her. He hadn't heard her voice in nearly two weeks. He didn't know what was going to say with her. He'd run through it a million times in his head, but it never ended well.
He didn't even look at her when she stared at him. He continued to tie the knot over and over again as he spoke.
"I wanted to go back for Peeta, Johanna, and Ezra, but I...I couldn't move..." he barely managed to get the sentence out. When he finally looked up at her, he could see the pain and anger in her eyes. She was looking at him the way she looked at Haymitch right before trying to stab him with that needle. "They have Annie too. They took her. She's in the Capitol." He could barely breathe as he told her. He couldn't imagine the horrors they had in store for his best friend. "Amara too... she stayed behind so the others could escape."
He glanced over at Katniss to see that her anger had turned to anguish. There was someone in District Thirteen that understood what she was going through. They both knew she loved Peeta. They might not truly understand the way she loved him, but they both knew it wasn't a game anymore.
Amara should have made it out. It didn't surprise Katniss that she was working with the rebellion, but it made her wonder who the elite really was. If she was truly wearing a mask for the Capitol, who was she beneath it? Who was the woman Finnick so clearly loved?
Finnick hated it. He hated that she was forced to be a double agent. He hated that she was forced to play a game he knew she didn't want to. He hated that they could do anything they wanted with her, and he wasn't there to protect her anymore.
"I wish she was dead," he confessed, and it was true. There was freedom in death. "I wish they were all dead, and we were too."
Katniss only stared at him, watching as he broke down. They were the same-- two broken people desperate to get the ones the loved back. No matter the price.
**
"This is not the girl you described," Coin said as soon as Katniss Everdeen stormed out of the office. No, this was not the girl any of them knew, and she was certainly not the one they'd seen on the television for the last year.
She was broken and frail. Katniss was not the girl on fire, she was not the Mockingjay; she was just a girl who lost everything. Coin knew they lost the battle the minute Plutarch revealed they had no idea if Peeta was still alive. Other than the Victor Purge, they knew nothing about what was happening in the hub of the Capitol, and she hated it.
Coin was used to knowing everything, and not it was like she lost one of her eyes. She needed to know what was happening there, and Katniss needed to know too. As long as she thought Peeta was dead. As long as she thought there was no hope, she would never pull herself together long enough to fight this battle.
All she wanted to talk about during their entire explanation of how they were going to take down the Capitol was how they should have taken Peeta instead.
"Obviously we need to make it personal; remind her who the real enemy is," Plutarch said.
"She knows who the real enemy is, that's not the issue," Coin argued.
"No, she's forgotten. There's explaining and then there's showing. Let her see what the Capitol did to Twelve," he suggested, and Coin wanted to laugh.
"She can't handle it. The games destroyed her," Coin said. Had they not seen the same girl in here? The same one who was on the brink of tears the entire time? No, she was not ready.
"This is the only choice you have. People don't always show up the way you want them to, Madam President, but that anger? That anger-driven defiance-- that's what we want, and we can redirect it. We need to unite these people out there that have been doing nothing but killing each other in an arena for years. We have to have a lightening rod. They'll follow her. She's the face of the revolution. Let her see it. Let her go home."
Coin hated it. She didn't like the idea of their symbol of hope going out into the world. Anything could happen, and this revolution needed her, but she also knew Plutarch was right. They needed to make sure the spark in Katniss didn't die either.
"Send her."
Plutarch nodded and left to make preparations. Coin turned to Beetee, who was still sitting in the room. She'd almost forgotten he was there for how quietly he sat while they all argued around him.
"I want eyes and ears in the Capitol," she said. "I don't care what you have to do. Find me a way to contact the Heiress."
Beetee only nodded.
**
"As soon as you're done with this show, Snow has requested an audience," Celeste told her as she ran down the clipboard of things that needed to happen by the end of the week.
Amara hated that list. She hated all of this.
"Good morning," a voice purred, and Amara whirled around to see Tigris standing at the entrance of her room with a big smile one her face. Celeste grinned and walked over to kiss the woman twice on each cheek.
"Amara, you know Tigris," Celeste said. "She's taking over for Reiner for the day."
It took everything in Amara not to visibly sigh in relief while looking at the woman in front of her.
"I'll need a moment with her, if you don't mind," Tigris said, and Celeste just beamed and stepped out of the room. Tigris turned to Amara the moment her manager was out of the room. "I had some fanmail dropped at my place this afternoon. They must have heard I would be with you today. It seems your fans realized nothing was getting to you."
Tigris dropped an envelope on Amara's lap, and the two made eye-contact. Amara received the message loud and clear.
She was being watched. No wonder Amara hadn't received any instructions. Snow no longer trusted that she was on his side. Her apartment had probably been re-bugged, and she was being monitored at all times. There was no safe way to get any message to her.
"Let me know when you're ready to get dressed."
Amara didn't hesitate to rip open the envelope. There were two letters inside. They both looked like Tigris had translated them from old Morse code, and if she wasn't so desperate to know what was said, she would have been more impressed.
To The Heiress--
Keep your ear low to the ground. Now that most of our people have been pulled from the Capitol, our information is becoming more and more unreliable. Do what you need to do to get the information. Tigris will be your new point of contact. Any intel that reaches your ears will go through her. You can no longer trust anyone else.
Plutarch, Jade, and Tigris appear to be the only ones who know your identity. Know that it is being kept a close secret in case someone goes wrong. Do not tell a soul who you are. We do not know who to trust, and Plutarch believes Snow will be monitoring you very closely. You have become a symbol of hope. District Thirteen knows that The Heiress is a rebel working against the Capitol. The victors we have here are proof of a bright future for Panem. Symbols are everything. We need you to keep an eye on any symbols that the Capitol might utilize to control the Districts. Plant seeds of doubt in the minds of the Capitol elite. We want Snow to be fighting with both the elite and the districts.
We also want you to keep an eye on the victors remaining in the Capitol. We have reason to believe there was a victors' purge. It seems most of the victors have been killed or captured. The Capitol took Ezra, Johanna, Peeta, and Enobaria from the arena. According to Tigris' intel, Annie Cresta, a victor from District Four, has recently been imprisoned. Should you have any information on them, please pass it along.
For a better Panem,
Alma Coin
Amara put the letter down, absorbing as much information as she could. She would need to get the Capitol to trust her again before she started spreading discontent among them. She wasn't even sure if she could work more effectively as Amara White or as The Heiress.
She glanced over her shoulder to see that Celeste still hadn't entered the room. She placed the letter down and opened up the second one.
I won't address you by name because I don't know if this letter will be intercepted. It helps to be friends with the guy who handles all tech and communication, but I have to be fast. I don't know how much Coin has told you about what is happening here, but it isn't good. We didn't even make it out with half of the tributes. Finnick, Beetee, and Katniss are alive and well. They're struggling in the aftermath of the games. Katniss is reeling from the deception, and Finnick is angry that you were all left behind. We're all recovering from losses. They killed Cinna. I can't lose anyone else, so please be safe.
- J
Cinna was dead. After Katniss' display of the wedding dress turned mockingjay, Amara wasn't sure why she'd never considered the possibility.
Oh, she wished she could be there for Jade right now. She couldn't believe Cinna was dead. Amara read the letter twice before she heard Celeste's voice outside the door.
She threw the letters in the fire Celeste always insisted was going (even though it was the middle of summer). Celeste glanced up and took in her appearance.
"Why aren't you dressed?"
**
"Miss White," Snow grinned as soon as she sat down in front of him. Her hair was still wet and her face was clean of any makeup or products. She'd never felt so exposed to him before. She hated him so much.
"President Snow," she grinned. He cocked a brow at her.
"Thank you for your dedication tonight," he smiled politely. "For someone who seems to hate me so much, you do a good job pretending for the cameras."
Amara was silent. She stared at Snow, and he stared right back.
"I didn't know Finnick was going to leave with the rebels, if that's what you're here to talk about."
Snow grinned, and she could faintly see the stain of blood she was starting to grow more accustomed to etched into his teeth.
"I know the Capitol believes that," he said. "Your recent shows have been beautiful, by the way. You pour so much emotion into each one that it's impossible for any of them to tell that you hate every second of it?"
"And you think I do?" Amara asked. Snow leaned forward.
"Let's not pretend we like each other, Miss White."
"Do you hate me, Mr. President?" she asked calmly. "You didn't used to."
"You didn't used to conspire with rebels."
"If you didn't notice, I was left behind," she whispered. He narrowed his eyes at that.
"And I can't help but wonder why," he said, and she only shrugged.
"I didn't know about the plot. I didn't know what was happening. All I knew is that my boyfriend was being thrown into the arena. Now, he's gone. I'm here. So I guess that tells you a lot about his priorities."
"So you've been betrayed by Mr. Odair? Not the Capitol?"
Amara narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't like you, President Snow, and we both know it. I think the Games are cruel, but I'm also loyal to Panem. I'm loyal to it's people and it's culture. I have no intention of hurting it."
"And you understand what war will do?" Snow asked.
"I have no desire to be apart of one," she said honestly. Snow studied her for a moment.
"Has Mr. Odair contacted you since they left?"
Amara was silent for a moment. She stared down at her lap.
"No," she said quietly. Snow wanted to grin at her pain.
"I do not think you're a rebel, Miss. White," he said, and she glanced up at him, relieved.
"I'm so glad--"
"But what I think doesn't matter," he said. "The problem is that the districts think you are. The rebels and the districts interpreted your speech as an act of defiance. Some believe you were siding with them when you spoke with Caesar."
"I wasn't--"
"I know," Snow cut off, and she noticed that his smile was less malicious this time.
"I'm loyal to Panem," she said, and he nodded.
"I know," Snow said. He was speaking to her like she was a child, and she hated it. "But the world needs to know that."
Amara stared at him for a moment.
"What would you have me do?"