#i imagined it smaller like a trident icon spinning over his head

[patovpran]

Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God. (x)

[ilguna]

Ethereal - Chapter Three (f.o)

Summary: Five years of watching your trainees die, you’re sick of it. She will prevail, she will win.

Word Count; 5.4k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Finnick had split just like you told him to. Before he had gone, you told him to meet you back where the chariots would leave from. He promised to be back in time, but here you are, ten minutes until they’re sent off, and he’s still not here. For a moment, you had blamed yourself, thinking that you should have followed after him.

And then you remembered that there is no way in hell you should have. You wouldn’t be here for the tributes, there would be two missing mentors. Laurel and Pleurisy would be sending them off, and sometimes they’re not the best. Laurel is serious, very straight-faced. She doesn’t smile or laugh often, and she shows her appreciation in small ways.

Pleurisy is a different story. Everything she does is grand. She’s not for the black, gold and silver that Laurel is into. Pleurisy is into colors, dying her skin–it’s a bubblegum pink right now–wearing huge costumes that show off her favorite parts of her body. The giant heels, the long nails, the wacky hair styles. When you had first met her, it wasn’t this bad. But she’s sunk completely, she’s in on the trends now.

Polar opposites, that manage to be friends. Annie and Paslee would have absolutely no idea how to handle them like you do. They’ll need your support, and so Finnick being missing, that’s fine. You just can’t be the one that’s gone.

While you’re all waiting to send the tributes off, you excuse yourself from your own, and find yourself heading over to your friends. There, Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria and Brutus are waiting.

“(Y/n)!” Cashmere squeals almost, reaching over and giving you a tight squeeze, “How are you?”

“To be honest, frazzled.” You tell her, she raises her eyebrows, the others lean in. Except for Brutus, he’s not interested in these types of things. He thinks he’s so much better than the other district victors, which includes you, but not Gloss, Cashmere or Enobaria. It’s a little irritating.

You ‘earned’ your title just as much as they did. You killed, you loved, you won. You went around and collecting the gifts that none of the districts actually want to give you. You faced the families of those you killed with a pained smile on your face. And you mentor a new set of kids each year. Just the same as them.

The only difference–which might be why he thinks like this–is that they get winning tributes. However, if their own murderous monsters were killed off in the beginning, you can almost guarantee that yours would have won. Especially the older ones, but that’s besides the point.

“What’s happened?” Gloss asks.

“Finnick.” you tell them, Cashmere and Enobaria are most interested now. Gloss seems like he would rather talk about something else. You don’t mention Finnick much, you have another inkling that it might be because Gloss likes you. And if that’s true, he is the only man you’ll ever consider getting with.

“What about him? Stop making me ask.” Cashmere shakes you slightly, “Spit it out!”

“He’s here.” you motion to the chariots, “Well, not here, here–”

“No, he’s there.” Enobaria says, you look over to see Finnick talking to Annie and Paslee. He hands them something, and then pats their shoulders.

The sound of the anthem makes you jump, “Shit!” you turn to point at them, and they’re laughing slightly, “I’ll bring Finnick over after, okay? Introduce our kids?”

“Us partnering up with district four?” the boy from one asks, his face is all twisted, “Good luck.”

Cashmere glares, it looks odd on her pretty face, “Making friends for the arena isn’t a bad idea.”

“I’ve got my friends right here.” he motions to his district partner, and then the other two from two.

“Four is technically a career.” the girl from two says, turning away from the boy. The boy glares slightly.

You turn to look at Cashmere and she shrugs, “I’ll see you after. Spare the kids, just you and Finn–”

“Shut up,” you shove her, she laughs and you roll your eyes. You head back over to your own chariot.

When you get there, Annie and Paslee are looking more comfortable than they were when you had originally left. Finnick must have said some things to them. You make a few adjustments to make them look nice, and when you’re done, you can almost hear the list of sponsor names that will be after them.

“Smile, wave, blow kisses.” you remind, “Paslee, chin up, Annie, slouch a little more. You’re going to be perfect.”

“Good luck!” Finnick’s voice is behind you, you wave to the kids and watch as they turn around to face where they’re leaving. The horses hesitate, and then they take off after district three.

Grabbing on to Finnick, you pull him with you to the nearest tv’s to watch what’s going on. You’re districted, trying to make sure that they’re moving right. For the most part, they’ve got the footing right and all of that. Paslee waves big, while Annie is smaller.

“Sugar cube?” Finnick asks, you look over to see he’s holding a square, “I know you want it.”

You take it, and pop it into your mouth, “Thanks.”

“Stop stressing, they’ll be fine.” Finnick tells you, his arms wrap around you slightly, and you’re too focused to brush him off. Annie seems to be leaning into Paslee. She’ll readjust like him, but they end up against each other in the end.

They stop in the circle, Snow appears. This is when you notice Finnick’s arms truly, because they tighten. You pull him into you, not knowing if this is because of a fear thing or not. Snow makes his speech, then there’s the anthem, which allows the cameras to pan around them one last time. After that is the final lap around the circle, then they’re gone.

Brought right back to you.

Finnick pulls away after that, and the both of you head over to the tributes.

Annie is the first off of the chariot. She spins slightly in the dress, it spreads out around her. She looks genuinely happy about the dress. You wonder if you’ll be able to pull some strings and let her have the dress if she wins. Or Snow will want to take it and put it in some hall of fame.

It’s an orange dress, the top is almost like a vest and a tank top combined. It hugs around the bottom of her neck to keep it in place. As for the bottom, it’s just a dress made out of silk. To make sure that it follows the district four theme, the top also has netting. The type you use to catch things. Along with that is the regular accessories. You’re sure that you don’t have to explain.

“You guys did so good!” You tell them, “Elysia and the stylists will help you to your rooms to change. We’ll see you in a few.”

You push them off slightly, eager to talk to Cashmere and them again. It’s been too long, and they’ve been dying to actually meet Finnick. Rather than hear about him in the little snot bits you do mention. You’re not sure how all of this will go down with Gloss. Jealousy is a mighty thing.

You take Finnick’s arm, “At this point I just think you should handcuff me to you.”

Looking at him, he has his eyebrows raised, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“It would be easier than you grabbing me all the time.” Finnick laughs, but then he thinks, “Actually, maybe I like the grabbing part.”

“I think you should shut up now.” You tell him once you’re stopping in front of your friends.

“Wow, The Finnick Odair?” Cashmere looks him over, “Got any love poems in mind?”

“They’re all reserved for (Y/n), sorry.” Finnick laughs, you and Cashmere share a look.

“I’m sure you know already, but this is Cashmere and Gloss, district one, brother and sister.” You start, Gloss pitches in with something about being back to back victors, you roll your eyes, “The arrogant one is Brutus and the tiger is Enobaria.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Enobaria flips her hair, but sputters out a laugh a few seconds later.

And just like that, you guys drop into banter. From the outside it would look like you guys were old friends, when in reality you’ve known them a year or two. Finnick practically just met them. You know he’s at least heard of them, but as far as talking goes, this will be the first time.

Gloss seems to ease into the conversation, seeing that you’re keeping Finnick at an arm’s distance—metaphorically—and you don’t acknowledge the flirty attempts. Every now and then you’ll give s look to Finnick to satisfy whatever he’s after.

They get along with him well, but Brutus and Enobaria act a little stuck up. You’re used to it, sometimes they even act like that with you. It’s hard to get mad at it anymore, you choose to ignore it all the same. It’s funny how they’re the ones that are so full of themselves, when Cashmere and Gloss are the most favored by the Capitol.

The only thing that Enobaria has is the fact that people see her as a fashion icon for sharpening her teeth after she won her games. You bet there was a small trend of it after. A couple dozen people probably have the same sharpened teeth.

You wonder what you and Finnick sparked. Something with rope, no doubt. Finnick and his trident, you can imagine a bunch of kids running around with their new toy. You and a spear, too. Little boys with tridents and girls with spears.

Soon, the conversation has to drop off, since it’s nearing dinner time. You bid goodbyes to them, and Gloss sends you off with a wink. As soon as you and Finnick have rounded the corner, he doesn’t look too happy.

“You and Gloss?” He finally asks.

“Nothing but friends.” You tell him, however if Finnick hadn’t shown up, you’re sure that it would have turned into more this year, “Can’t promise he looks at it that way, though.”

Finnick nods, still not convinced. You’re not going to stand here and reassure him, he just needs to trust your word. It’s not like you have any reason to lie. As if you’d ever go behind his back and date Gloss or anything. Even if that would be a not-so-subtle way of telling him you’re over him.

“So what of you think of them?” You ask, looking to Finnick, “What’s wrong?”

“How long have you been friends with them?”

“A year or two now. I only see them for the games.” You tell him, “And whenever they win the games.”

“You’re making friends with them?” He asks, “Why not the other districts?”

He doesn’t like them.

“Because, as I found out, they can hold grudges longer than districts one and two can. I’ve tried with three, but it was short lived. He appreciated my efforts to keep Blaire alive, and that was it. But all the other districts?” You laugh, “Haymitch is truly the only one who didn’t care that I killed the twelve year old boy. Making friends with them is hard.”

“It can’t be—“

“Then go right ahead. Try to make those friends and get back to me on it. I’m sorry that you’re jealous of Gloss, or Brutus or whatever, but they were here for me when you weren’t.” And there you go, throwing this in his face. You hadn’t wanted to do that.

You continue to the elevator, your boots make heel-like sounds. When you stop by the or, you turn back to see Finnick standing there, “Are you coming?”

He shakes his head slightly, “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Finnick—“ you begin, taking a step. He’s going to leave, you can feel it. It’s not selfish for you to want him to stay, it’s for the kids. You’re doing this for the kids, “Please?”

You want to tell him to stop being ridiculous, but you hold your tongue. Saying that will set him off, and he’ll definitely go. No matter how true it is, you need him to stay.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” The apology is too late, you wonder if he’ll see that.

A moment of silence, you know he’s not going to stay, “I’m going to take a walk. Don’t wait on me.”

He disappears around the same corner you came around. You take a moment, trying to calm yourself down for fucking this up. But you swing your arm anyway, and it leaves a nice, fist-shaped hole in the wall.

The elevator door opens, and you go inside of it. The ride up is quiet, and the longer it takes, the more upset you seem to get with yourself. The moment that the door has opened, you’re met with Laurel and Pleurisy, you step out.

“Where’s Finnick?” Pleurisy asks.

“I pissed him off, he’s taking a walk.” You tell them, not stopping to talk to them.

When you reach the apartment, you go inside. A few feet in front of you, Elysia is still sat down with Annie and Paslee, eating dinner. You take another deep breath, this time to steady and truly calm, and then you sit down with them.

“For the next three days, it’s training.” You tell them, “I probably won’t see you guys tomorrow so I’ll tell you this now. If you’re going to make friends, perfect time to do it. Steer clear of the other careers unless you know for sure that you’ll be able to get them into an alliance. They don’t seem too fond of us.

“When you do get inside of the training center.” You turn towards them, they listen a little harder, “Don’t show off the skills I’ve taught you. Go around to places you don’t know. Talk to people that are already there, keep moving around. Don’t know how to use a bow and arrow? Good time to learn.”

“They’ll have classes?” Annie asks, you nod.

“Instructors will be at each station. They’ll help you learn what they’re specialized in.” Honestly, they should put actual victors in there. It’s funny to you that they call them professionals when they’ve never had to actually deal with the circumstances.

Do they come from the districts? No. They don’t have to deal with hunger. They don’t know how to make a fire effectively. Or how to throw knives, use spears, make nets and fishing line. They think they’re professional because the Capitol has trained. The only thing they might be good at is medical, but even then, where are you going to find morphine in the middle of the games?

They’re good for if you have the backpacks in the games. With the plastic, the backpacks, sleeping bags, and iodine. You can survive without all of those, and for the Capitol to put the idea that they need them to survive is ridiculous.

Boil water, find shelter, hunt for food, know your leaves and berries for remedies. Don’t count that you team up with the careers. Or that you’ll be able to get those backpacks, or those weapons.

Expect the worst. Never the better.

You continue eating, answering some of their questions. They want to know when the interview is, and what they’re wearing. You haven’t seen their outfits just yet, so you can’t answer that for them, neither would you. Laurel and Pleurisy would want it to be a surprise.

As for the interviews, you can tell them when that is. They ask who they should make friends of, and you ask who they thought stood out more in the reapings.

To you it’s always the careers, and district seven. The careers are obvious, district seven is because they know how to wield axes, they’ll be very good if they get their hands on some. They might be very good with fires too. District three is an always. They know how to make weapons, just the same as their sister district, two.

They say nearly the same, and you tell them to make friends out of the smart ones. They’ll be useful later on. If they want to run straight to the middle then their stupid. Which sparks an argument with Paslee, saying that getting there first has its advantages. You tell him it doesn’t.

He brings up the fact that you ran to the middle. And for just a second you forget that they were both ten or eleven when you had won your games. You very calmly remind Paslee that you had an alliance with the careers. That there were seven of you, rather than the casual four.

You got to the middle because you’re quick. You didn’t even know you could run that fast until you were running. With Lennox too far behind, trailing. You got lucky in the middle when the sword was in your hands. That had you not swung the sword, then you would have died to the girl from ten. If Trink wasn’t near you, she wouldn’t have killed the boy from five, or whoever it was.

You never truly acknowledged it, but he was coming to kill you. That’s why she threw the sword, to make sure that he wouldn’t come after any of you. Offering that protection that all of you had agreed on.

You tell Paslee that if he runs to the middle when the gong sounds, that he needs to be quick. He needs to be ready to grab the nearest weapon and swing. No matter who it is, but watch out for that alliance he might have with the careers if that’s what he chooses.

He shouldn’t choose that. Either he should stick to Annie, or find someone else to enjoy. Keep a group smaller than four, and split up when there’s a final ten. You don’t tell them this, though.

They both leave the table when they’re tired of asking questions. Elysia had long since disappeared. You eat quietly, making yourself sick when you continue eating, even though you’re full. When you feel like you’re done, you stand and tell them that Finnick won’t be eating.

If he does show, tough shit. He should have been there earlier.

And then, you trudge back to your room. Ripping off the clothes, skipping the second shower as you sit by the window, knees to your chest. You don’t have to sit in here like a caged prisoner. You can go out there and enjoy yourself with your friends. But leaving feels like you’re asking too much, and it’s almost like a chore.

You shouldn’t have said that to Finnick but you were tired of it. If you were dating Gloss, it would be none of his business. You don’t have to justify yourself. You can miss Finnick and love Gloss.

You don’t love Gloss for the record. You’d rather he’d save it for later, a different girl that might show her interest. Someone like Enobaria. That would be a killer couple. Or Enobaria with Brutus. Same district and both hella freaky looking. Brutus has to take some drugs to stay that big, right?

This is so unfair.

You find yourself still sleeping on the floor in the morning. You remember pulling down a pillow and blanket just before you passed out. You didn’t want to sleep on the bed—much less use the blanket and pillows but you had no choice, use them or freeze—because the favoritism is still something you’re not too excited about.

Just looking out the window, you can see it’s about noon. The tributes are in the training center, you hope that Annie and Paslee remember what you told them last night. And you should have probably given them a reason why as well. So they have more of a motivation to keep it to themselves.

The reason would obviously be because of the private session that’ll end up happening after the three days. They’ll need to show off a certain skill. And if they use anything that you had taught them on the train, specifically the knife throwing, or anything to do with the spears, swords, axes…

They seemed skilled with the regular stuff, they should get at least an eight to ten. You still can’t believe you only got a ten on that knife trick. It should have been an eleven. And it’s too bad that you never really got to show it off.

Not that you would ever want to kill two people at once. But could you imagine? Knife throwing would have been so goddamn popular after. People would be dying to learn how, since you did it with one hand.

You get off the floor, tossing the pillow and the blanket back onto the bed. You dig through the dresser for a white shirt, but all they’ve provided you with is tank top after tank top. You settle, but you’ll have to talk to Laurel about it, because there’s no way in hell you’ll wear one every single time you’re on air.

A pair of black shorts is fine, you toss it onto the bed for when you come out of the shower. It’s quick, nothing like you had when you were on the train. You change quickly, pulling on the same pair of boots. You let your hair free, since it feels better that way, but keep a band around just in case you get tired of moving it from your face.

The avoxes seem to have been waiting by your door. You motion to the room, letting them know they can have at it, and then you show up at the table. Food is already sitting there. It’s just you. Everyone else is gone.

Elysia is probably out with Laurel and Pleurisy deciding outfit things. Sorting out the minor details. Probably talking up your tributes like she’s done every single year. She has to, you want as many sponsors as you can wrangle in.

The tribute parade or whatever it’s called–the chariot rides, they give you guys a head start. The reapings and the stations are basically nothing, not focused on unless they win the games. Then they’ll go back and feature it during the recap. Telling it from start to finish.

The chariot ride, the scoring, interviews and the bloodbath. Those are the events that you need to make sure that they know what they’re doing. They did very well during the chariot ride, you’re sure Elysia will come back with compliments from the others. The scoring will be up to Annie and Paslee, you’ll be sure to mention it tonight. And then you’ll have them training for the interviews with every chance you get.

Annie will be able to walk in heels so well, that her ankles and the soles of her feet will be aching. She’ll get a day to recover, and then she’ll have to do it all again. It’s no bother, she’ll be able to sit down during the interview, if she asks. Caesar likes to make sure that his interviewees are comfortable. He makes everything seem natural, he’ll bring out the better in her.

As for the bloodbath, easy. Annie has it down, you’ll just have to worry about Paslee. You’re beginning to think the cocky act isn’t just an act. He might be adapting it as his actual personality. It might bring on sponsors for a little bit, but they’ll get tired of it quickly. They love a strong tribute with a soft heart. If Paslee doesn’t show that, then he’s screwed.

Same for Annie. She can act all kind, but she’ll need to be deadly in the arena. It’ll give the sponsors a twist they weren’t expecting. The games is a show, and if they can provide the unexpected, they’ll be sure to win. Again, you have a good feeling this year. Something is going to be different.

And it’s not because of Finnick.

You get up from the table when you feel like you’re done, but turn to one of the avoxes. You’ve always felt sorry for them, imagine being a servant for a bunch of assholes. They’re degraded to get rid of the attitude, so their self-esteem is gone. You can’t imagine what other mental damage the Capitol does while they’re at it.

“Did Finnick come back at all last night or this morning?” you ask, and the girl nods. She then holds up her finger, and disappears for a second. When she returns, she has a pad of paper in hand.

Of course, Finnick and his paper.

She holds it out to you, you thank her, before turning and heading for the elevator. When you step in, you read over the names. All the last names are ridiculous, all their ancestors had taken up unique last names to differ themselves from the people in the districts. Trying to get rid of all relations they previously had with you guys.

You wonder if your last name would be considered different. Gallows, hanging. You didn’t inherit it from your father, it was more of your mom. Passed down from generation to generation. You, your mom, her mom, and you’re pretty sure your great-grandma had gotten it from the war between the Capitol and the districts.

Changed it. It’s a pretty cool thought to think that the hanging was your legacy. This is what you were meant to do. All a bunch of murderous hanging monsters. Women in your family must be strong. It’s a shame your mom died when she did, she had so much more time.

Had she not died, then there wouldn’t have been as must change as there was in the house. You wouldn’t have learned those valuable skills as quickly and easily. There would have been someone to provide the food, so you wouldn’t have to hop on the boat with your brothers early in the morning. It would take away so many memories.

You wouldn’t change the past, no matter what.

The elevator stops, you look up to see that it’s not the bottom floor. When the doors open, you’re met with Cashmere and Gloss. You flip the top empty pages back on top of the written one to hide what you were looking at, clicking the pen a couple of times.

“What’re you up to?” she asks, looking over.

You show her the empty slip of paper, and then you turn, “What do you think would look good on Annie? Red again or should we go with something different?”

“Actually taking my vote?” she asks, raising her eyebrows, Gloss laughs.

“A light color.” Gloss says.

“Something to bring out her hair!” Cashmere nods, “And you should braid it really cool. Mine won’t listen to me. She doesn’t want to look girly one bit.”

“But she’s fierce, it’s what we need.” Gloss reminds her almost, and she huffs out a laugh.

“As if that’ll bring in sponsors. I hope during the interview she plays pretend at least for a couple of minutes.”

You shake your head, “Don’t have to worry about that. It’s the perks of not being a career district.”

“But you are.” Gloss says, the elevator dings.

You spin your back toward it, beginning to walk out backward, “Not entirely. Four is more exotic than you are.”

“Oh whatever!” Cashmere laughs, following you, “Where are you heading off to?”

“The betting area.” you tell them, Gloss looks to Cashmere.

“I could go there now, you head down to the stylists?” he suggests, “You know I’m not good with fashion.”

“Obviously not.” she motions to his outfit, but then she does the same to you, “Twinsies, I guess.”

“Shut up.” you tell her, laughing.

“I’ll see you two later.” she waves, and then stalks off. It’s a wonder how she’s so nice, yet she can also be so… mean-girl like.

You hadn’t encountered many bullies before the games–because after no one would bother to get within ten feet as if you’d snap and break their neck or something–but the few that had shown. Well, let’s just say that they liked to make fun of the fact that you were parentless. It was ironic, because the girls that would come around, one of two of their own parents were missing.

The pot calling the tea kettle black, huh?

“So how do you feel about Finnick being back?” Gloss asks after some walking in silence.

“Haven’t seen much of him.” you smile at Gloss, “I said a few things to him last night, tried to apologize but he left. Only thing he’s said–or given–to me is a list of potential sponsors.”

When you hold up the paper, he laughs, “It’s empty?”

“Not quite. But I don’t want you to steal them away. I know how sneaky you careers are.” you push him a little bit, laughing.

“Oh really? Says you!” he goes to catch up with you, but you begin to run out of grasp, making it a challenge. The both of you are running down the hall, giggling, squealing messes as you avoid him each time he makes a grab.

You try to fly through the door, since Gloss is catching up on you. You might be fast, but he has long legs. And also looks like he exercises regularly, Gloss is huge whether you like it or not.

Anyway, a pair of arms wrap around you, just before you smack into the door. It’s not Gloss, because the person is chest to heat with you. You have the pleasure of looking up to see Finnick.

And your heart seems to jump to your throat and stay there, “Sorry—“

“I need a word with (Y/n),” Finnick tells Gloss kindly.

You look to Gloss, and he shrugs, “Don’t be long. I might just have to take those sponsors.”

“You don’t have the list!” You hold up, but pass it to Finnick. He takes it for safekeeping. The grin passed between you two is mischievous.

Gloss waves, and then goes inside of the courtyard. Finnick lets the door free, and it shuts quietly. You go to move so Finnick can let you go, but he pulls you closer.

“Not jealous.” He tells you, “and you shouldn’t have apologized last night. You were right, the other districts aren’t interested, not as forgiving.”

“I know.” You say, finally hugging him back, “have you seen them today?”

“Yeah, they were excited to get into the training center. I warned them about not showing their special skill until the private session.”

“And the sponsors?”

“Clearly beat you to it.” He laughed, and you pull away from him, “I’m thinking Annie is our best bet. I’m having them focus on her, but they know to look after Paslee too.”

“So then there’s nothing to do, you’ve taken all of it from me.” You tell him, it’s true. He’s done all of your work. The sponsors, talking to the tributes before they went in. You wouldn’t doubt it if he had also gone to Laurel and Pleurisy to check out their outfits.

“Wouldn‘t say that.” Finnick opens the door up again, and lets you go in first.

You go in slowly, looking around the yard. Taking in your surroundings, how many people are here. You’ve come in here a couple of times before. But normally you wait until the games have started to organize sponsors. Being out here with the others, the most prestigious sponsors makes you feel sick.

Finnick takes your hand, probably feeling the anxiety radiating off of you in waves. He then pulls you along to a specific corner, you watch the people then turn to you. You’re not too fond of them in the first place, but the second that you realize that Finnick was sold to these people, that they have bought him and used him for their pleasures, makes you want to go.

You don’t want them on your side. To think that if either Annie or Paslee were to win, they might think they have an automatic right to them.

You turn your eyes to Finnick, “I change my mind.”

“It’s too late. I don’t hold grudges against them.”

“And yet you should.”

“I stayed at the Capitol on my own free will.” He reminds you, but it’s not sweet, it’s bitter.

Yes, he did. All because of you.