Author's Note: Just warning you guys, this story has not yet been edited, so there will be mistakes, repeats, and references to the previous title. I'll hopefully get around to improving the plot and writing quality soon. Enjoy the story! (Unfortunately, I do not, in any way whatsoever, own The Hunger Games or Finnick Odair.)
EDIT: Yes, she is 16. It is the age of consent in Panem. Re-read Mockingjay if you are not clear on that.
•••••
My name is Asphodel Lethe.
I am sixteen years old.
Everyone I love is dead.
All because I refused.
•••••
When I was fourteen, I won the Seventy-third Hunger Games. I was District Five's first victor in fifteen years. Winning came at a price, though. My throat was slit. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to take my voice away. The doctors said I might be able to talk again someday, but for now, I'm mute.
I don't mind so much, really. My mind is all I need.
I stare at my reflection. Shattered, stormy gray eyes and long, straight, jet black hair. Pale skin and a tall, slim, toned body. I'm pretty, I think. Or maybe I'm not. I don't care.
I carefully place a simple silver circlet on my head. I received it when I was crowned victor two years ago. Today is the Reaping of the Third Quarter Quell and I'm Five's only female victor, ever. My crown is all I want from this place. It reminds me that I can still beat the Capitol. I won the Games. I'm a survivor.
My large house in the Victor's Village is completely silent as I dress. A cream, loose sweater; brown, skinny, leather pants; and black boots covers my body. District Five has had seven victors and six are still alive.
I leave my house and see my mentor, Atom Electro, leaving his, as well. He's thirty-one years old and the youngest male victor Five has. He was my mentor and is the only reason I'm still alive. He got me amazing sponsors and provided me with excellent advice.
"Del!" he says happily, hugging me tightly. I return the hug and smile at him. "Are you nervous about the Games?"
I shake my head. I'm prepared to win or die trying.
"Good," he smiles. "Let's get to the Reaping, alright?" I nod and together, we walk to what might very well be our deaths.
•••••
Everybody stares as we walk to the stage. I go first, since I'm the most recent victor. Then Atom, since he won the 58th Games. Then Ryder Isaacs, the victor of the 52nd Games. Oliver Zircon follows as victor of the 49th Hunger Games.
Our last victor won the very first Hunger Games at age thirteen. His name is legendary. Wilson Prescott. He's like a grandfather to me, to be honest.
"Good luck," Ryder mouths to me, smiling. I nod as if to say 'You too' and smile back.
Our escort prances onto the stage. She appears absurd, but she's actually quite nice. Her name is Valentine Emerald and let me tell you, this woman is obsessed with gemstones. She currently wears a pencil skirt with sequins and three dimensional butterflies in various shades of pink. A pink, sleeveless, cowl-neck shirt covers her torso and a gem flower necklace hangs from her neck. Matching hot pink peep toe heels are on her feet and her platinum blonde hair is in perfect corkscrew curls.
"Shall we," she chokes back a sob, "start with the ladies?"
I'm a victor, I remind myself. I can survive this.
"Asphodel Lethe," she says quietly. I silently make my way to my place next to her, my eyes hard and emotionless. "Now, for the men."
Not Atom. Not Wilson.
"Atom Electro."
My eyes are wide and horrified. No. Not my mentor. Not the man that saved my life. Not the man I consider family.
"I volunteer," Ryder says nearly instantly. I look at him with wide eyes. "Hey, don't look so surprised," he says, smiling slightly. "It's obvious how close you two are, seeing as he was your mentor. It would just be cruel to make you go into the arena together."
"Shake hands," Valentine says and we do.
We're led into the Justice Building and are taken straight to the car.
"What about saying goodbye?" Ryder asks.
"Change of plans," a Peacekeeper says. "Straight to the train."
Who are our mentors? I hope mine is Atom. Probably is.
I stare out the window, taking a look at my district. I think back to my Games. I had gotten a knife, a package of throwing darts, six shurikens, a hatchet, and a blowgun with twenty four poison darts at the Cornucopia, as well as some other supplies. I had used my throwing darts and most of my blowgun darts to kill various mutts, since the arena was full of them. I killed eight tributes, four with shurikens, three with my poison darts, and one by throwing the hatchet into his spine.
By the finale, I had one shuriken left, my empty blowgun, and my knife. It was me versus the boy from Two. I knocked him off his feet by whacking the back of his knees with my blowgun and I killed him by stabbing him in the head with the shuriken just after he stabbed my throat. It isn't a good memory, but it's all I have now. I'm stuck with my memories.
I've taken care of myself. I work out, keep myself toned and in shape. I train myself with throwing knives, shurikens, and blowguns. I have perfect aim, even. I eat only healthy foods. I exercise.
"You okay, Del?" Ryder asks and I shrug, nodding.
I'm actually completely fine. I can win this, I know that. I just hope Johanna isn't Reaped. Her and I are good friends, seeing as we won only a year apart. She won the Seventy-first Games and I won the Seventy-third.
We're also very similar. We both had our families murdered and we both hate the Capitol with a burning passion. That's enough for me to be friends with someone. I guess mutual hatred for a common enemy really does help make bonds.
When the Quell was announced, Johanna called. She said that if we found ourselves in the arena together, we should be allies. I had Atom talk for me so she'd know that I agreed.
"Allies?" Ryder offers me and I nod, instantly agreeing.
And Johanna, if she was Reaped, I write down on a small notepad and show to him.
"Sounds good," he grins.
I think back to the rerun of Ryder's Games I had watched. His weapon of choice was a sword and he killed exactly four people with it. One in the Bloodbath, two when he infiltrated the Career base and successfully took down the last remaining Career tributes, and one in the finale.
We board the train after a while and I find myself snacking on a tray of cucumber sandwiches. The Capitol chefs are amazing, I'll give them that. The cream cheese and dill mixture that pairs with crunchy cucumber slices in the sandwiches has been my favorite since before I won. I don't think I'll ever stop enjoying it, to be honest.
I wonder who my competition will be. Maybe the insane girl from Four? The militaristic sixty year old female from Two? What's her name, again? Lyme? Yes. It's Lyme. She would be difficult to defeat.
"Hey Del," Atom says, smiling sadly as he walks in. Ryder's probably already in his bedroom. I nod at him, smiling slightly. "Want to watch the Reapings or should we wait?"
Wait, I scribble on a scrap of paper and he nods.
"Then that's what we'll do."
•••••
"Nearly there!" Valentine says, attempting to sound excited. District Five is only a four hour train ride from the Capitol.
We watch the Reapings as we near the Capitol and soon find that our competition is rough. Johanna was Reaped, so I figure her and Blight will join the alliance. Not bad allies.
"Finnick is one to watch out for," Atom says. "It would be best to ally with him."
Why would Finnick Odair want a mute sixteen year old as an ally? I think bitterly, yet realistically.
I only nod in response. I'll ally with him if he offers. I won't go to any trouble if he doesn't, though.
"Brutus and Enobaria are certainly two you need to keep an eye on. Try and take them out early on," he advises and I nod, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Del, we all know you're great at infiltrating. Sneak in their base and kill them off. Got it?" I nod again.
I'll do it right after the Bloodbath, I write, showing him the note. He nods.
The train comes to a nearly undetectable halt and Atom frowns slightly.
"Alright. We'll talk more after the Tribute Parade."