BY THE TIME THEIR TRAIN REACHED to the Capitol later on the day, all tributes had been announced. And the wealthiest and more thrilled people around the state had gathered to greet them on their arrival at the heart of their country, before they were all ushered to get ready for the annual Opening Ceremony. Their first and opening event for the Games.
Their way to show Snow's puppets before taking them to the slaughterhouse ─ or in this case, the arena.
So far, Elowen had been right on her presumptions: Katniss and Peeta were back to represent Twelve for the, and it was fair to say the audience had gone crazy when their names had been announced by none other than Caesar Flickerman, a few hours before they had arrived at the Capitol. The ginger had also seen herself on the screen when it came District five's turn, absently staring at the screen while the spectators had both cheered and lamented their angel's comeback to the Games.
She had also recognised Cashmere and Gloss, the victor siblings from One. With whom she had never talked nor crossed glances, but had seen once or twice whenever she had visited the Capitol. Sometime between those three years which had gone by since her first time as tribute. It had somehow shocked her too, when Finnick Odair appeared on screen. And a dizziness settled on her stomach under the awareness that she would have to fight him too ─ if she really lasted that long, in the bloodbath.
Like Wendell at five, he had met the crowd's applause and cheering by a risen hand in the air when his hame had was announced by the Four's escort. The ends of his lips going up in a confident smile while he walked forward in the platform as not longer and uniquely a victor. But back to a tribute. Yet his eyes had given off a different emotion to Elowen. A different story which his lips attempted to cover.
Deep inside, although Elowen didn't know to what point or depth, Finnick Odair had also been broken and ruined by Snow and his tricks. The smile, the playful glances, and the charm he owned both in his looks and words were just a form to cloak his authentic self; a mask. Just like Elowen's. Hers of a pure, perfect, heavenly good angel, who had caught everyone under her kind heart.
Snow had made the Alenerant carry a grace, and deliver sparkling joy and kindness to anyone who was to place their eyes on her. Hiding all the nightmares, guilt and suffer ─ all up to her distaste towards the Capitol and its people, she yet struggled to cope with. And she knew something similar had occurred with the blonde-haired male from Four; she had seen it on his eyes before.
When they last met. And on the first time, for a spark of a second. And when she had crossed glances with him when Elowen had been taken to talk with President Snow, on the celebration night of her Games.
If their eyes crossed again like that at the arena, and she saw that look in them, an emotion in which she saw herself reflected, the red-haired girl was helpless to think if she would have what it took ─ what it costed, to even defend herself from him.
"Elowen, sweetheart, I really can't do this if you don't stop turning your head towards everywhere but where I told you to," Azura told her, trying to conceal the frustration in her voice while she yet again lowered the female's head to look at her feet. Her hands attempted to pull up and fasten those short strands of hair which had fallen from her intertwined pigtails, that went up to form a shape of a delicate crown braid.
Twisted within them, there were thin transparent wires. Placed in some way which escaped the female's understanding. By what the stylist had explained and she had comprehended, they would light up showing a flow of electricity run through them repeatedly; a representation of their District's industry and a symbol of their homeland.
Her frame, in that occasion, had been fitted in a renewed and more futuristic look of the 74th Hunger Games robes. Consisting in a long sleeve, silvery sparkling dress which fell right above her knees, showing a few inches of her skin before the long, patent-leather white boots covered her lower leg. The skirt part, just as her hair, was meant to light up in wavy patterned lights. All matching Wendells all-black suit.
Much to her relief, her makeup had been left natural and simple this time. Besides the silver eyeshadow and the black liner on her eyes, which caused the blue in them more intense and her sight more open. Making them stand out just like Wendell's would, who had gone through the same process.
"Okay darling, you're all done!" Azura clapped her hands joyfully behind her. Then, she turned to see the work done on Wendell, giving her approval with a satisfied nod. "Oh, you two are going to look wonderful out there!" she released a contented sigh before getting back to her escort role. "Now go on, there's no time to waste! Let's get you to your chariot".
Elowen and Wendell were the of the latest tributes to arrive at the place, probably b the time it had taken to style the ginger's hair and make it stay in place. Nevertheless, when they got there Callista was waiting for them next to what would be their chariot, carried by stunning and beautiful dark horses. Another figure was next to their female mentor, who lighted up the girl's sight in awareness.
"Sawyer!"
Forgetting about everything else, Elowen sprinted towards her friend. Helpless to stop the smile taking control of her lips andcurving them up as she approached him. It hit her like a jug of cold water thrown at her, though, when steps away from him, she remembered why the boy was there too. And the different paper he had from Callista's. Her smile weakened, and the risen ends of her lips went to rest down while the joy, which had taken over her at the sight of him faded away like mist.
A witness of her reaction and what had suddenly come back to mind, the boy showed her a small smile, before taking the last few steps that Elowen hadn't walked to get to his arms. "Hey, it's alright, Elowen," he assured her. For nothing had shocked him more than how the realisation had gotten to her, and how her bright expression had shifted into a sorrowful one. His arms went around her shoulder and squeezed her frame against him, as he took the brotherly role that always seemed to appear on him whenever Elowen was around.
"I really wished it wasn't you," the girl spoke against her chest, her voice raspy while she tried to get rid of the knot she felt on her throat.
"I wished it wouldn't be any of us, Wen, but there's nothing we can change about it," he told her with a sweet voice, while Callista walked away to give the two friends space and intimacy to talk. "After all, this is hell in heaven, isn't it?" His somewhat light voice tried to joke with what he had told her on their last time at the Capitol. And yet it only made the female more angered towards the situation they had been thrown into.
"This is just hell in hell". She released herself from his embrace, and her eyes went to find his. Despite his words, she also saw the concern and fear in them.
Not bearing to hold his gaze for too long, her eyes drifted towards the sides of her chariot, spotting the latest victors of the Games. And remembering how Sawyer had spoken those words in their presence, when they were welcomed by the Capitol after their Games. Their situation was one the female was grateful no to live under her skin, not imagining what the young couple was going through. This time, Snow would make sure that only one tribute was left and proclaimed victor of the Quarter Quell, without tricks or demonstrations of affection or romance.
"I don't know how can they hold themselves together," Elowen said, while she saw Katniss smiling at the blonde boy who had his back turned to them. Sawyer sighed.
"I don't think they do. All of us break at some point. You just have to wear your mask well," he said, his head motioning towards the Twelve's tribute male, "or let the anger take over yourself and consume you," he shifted his gaze towards the brunette female.
I don't think I do either of them well enough, the female thought, while a voice calling for the Seven boy rose in the air to grab his attention. It was Johanna Mason, the female tribute from District Seven, who motioned him towards their chariot with an exhausted and bothered expression.
Sawyer smiled at her, somehow amused by his companion's personality. "I should go back before she lets her rage out and starts screaming to everyone around," he chuckled. "She's the second one," he told her, referring to the two types of victors he had just explained her.
"See you out there," he spoke once more, and walking away, he said goodbye with his hand before turning around.
She kept looking at him as he moved away, and a short chuckle parted her lips when she saw her friends put his arms up in surrender at something Johanna was telling him, agreeing with Sawyer's label for her. She might not be the Girl on Fire, but the female victor definitely had fire and anger running through her veins.
"For not liking to be called an angel, you sure look like one".
Surprised, Elowen's back muscles tensed by the proximity of the honeyed voice, something that made him release a satisfied chuckle. She put her hands into fists and cursed in a grumbling voice. Both because of her distaste for her nickname and the fact she had, yet again, not heard the boy approaching. When she was done, she pressed her lips together and spun around to meet him.
"Is this how we are always going to meet, Finnick?" she questioned with an annoyed voice. Although her frustration was further aimed to the fact that her hearing had failed her yet again, being distracted by something else.
She couldn't allow herself for such a mistake to happen in the arena. If she did, she would be on the floor by then, on the verge of death and the cannon ready to announce it.
Finnick's smile widened. "I just wanted to see if you were expecting me, like the last time. But if you don't like it we can surely find a different way to meet. There are plenty of them".
"I don't think we'll have many chances to meet in a friendly way from now on," she mumbled, her eyes riding up to the open ceiling to see the crowd cheering and waving at the tributes.
"Oh, so you are already turning me down as your ally?"
The female shrugged, her expression neutral as she landed her sight back on his. "There's many here who are more skilled than I am. You have plenty of tributes to choose from," she explained, but he began to shook his head before she even finished the sentence.
"I remember seeing you with your knives and daggers at the 72nd Games. There's no one more skilled than you with them," he said, and took a few steps forward to bring themselves closer before he murmured. "Everyone has something in which they stand out, honey. And you'd be wrong to think you don't.
Those words made the girl travel back in time, to the first occasion in which she had held a dagger in between her fingers. It had been her father's. She remembered how the man had told her something similar alike to Finnick's words that day. Something which had surprisingly helped in a Games which she never thought she would become victor of.
How every flaw could be balanced, even overcome by a strength. How her hearing could beat and balance her defective sight. That's how she had learned to throw a dagger, and even aim it correctly with her eyes closed.
She didn't thought she would have to use her strength that way, ever again. She had prayed for it.
Elowen hadn't noticed of the way she had lowered her head and closed her eyes until she opened them again. And the feelings she had been holding thight on her chest ever since they had arrived at the Capitol earlier that day, flew from her mouth before she could even stop them. Although there was no reason to keep them secret.
"I hate it here. I hate everything from here".
When her sight collided with Finnick's ocean one, she saw how the barrier surrounding him had lowered yet again. How his mask failed to cover his true self, and the feelings in which Elowen saw herself captured.
She wondered what caused it, for the blonde-haired boy to choose to expose himself in front of her ─ even more than he was corporally, only with a golden fishnet tied around his low waist.
"Why did you volunteer?"
The words rather surprised her, when she thought the male could see through her eyes just like she did in his. Nonetheless, she couldn't help to reveal herself the same way she felt he did under that sight, which confirmed more misfortune than what anyone could've guessed on him.
"Callista has found peace. She has seen the light after the Games and she freed herself from the Capitol and Snow's grasp. She has people waiting for her back home, a family. A son," Elowen explained with a vulnerable voice.
"I couldn't do that to her when my life downscales to nothing next to hers".
Something on the Odair's stare deepened then. As though her words had stricken him more than what he though Elowen's answer would. When he spoke, his voice was lower, softer, but showing the seriousness the words carried for him.
"You shouldn't set such a lower price on your life when someone else wouldn't be able to find a value worthy of it".
Her head lowered, because while she was aware that one life shouldn't worth more or less than another, she couldn't see the goodness of a life full of nightmares, fears and darkness. She couldn't see the good, or the light in hers. And not having any scared her.
"I'm sorry," he abruptly spoke, making the female's eyes travel back to him by how every word held nothing but honesty and transparency in his voice. Taken back by the confession which wasn't his place to take, she mumbled.
"Why? You've ended here the same way I've had".
He gave her a smile. Not one of those cheeky, playful ones he delivered to anyone. A sincer one. His fingers went to catch a strand of hair which had fallen in front of the female's azure eyes, and placed it behind her ear. With his fingertips slowly gracing it, and sending shivers all the way down her spine before his hand fell back in place. Elowen stared at him, spellbounded and shocked by his touch.
"I know," he assured. "But I also know I would have regretted it if I didn't tell you I do".
Before she could speak, his voice parted his lips again.
"We'll make them pay, Elowen".
She instantly knew of who he was talking about. The Capitol. The Games. The Peacekeepers. Snow. No one had ever spoken those words in front of her. Not in the three years that had passed by since those people had ruined her life, and made sure it would never be what once was.
There was hope in those words, a feeling so foreign yet warm to Elowen that she desired it to hold on it, making the rest disappear.
"How?"
"I don't know yet," he smiled frankly, the curves of his lips turning into a vindictive smirk. "But if they want us to die in that arena, we might as well give them a good reason to end with us".
And they would.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE!
i'm a sucker for this finnick-elowen moments and i can guarantee you there are many more to come! finnick is just helping our girl to wake up and release the anger and fear which has been consuming her since the end of her games (and some others might as well take a part in it), making her see she's stronger than she thinks and i honestly can't wait for it. what do you think so far? please tell me all your thoughts! Love, A.