Safe and Sound
Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU
Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.
Chapter 4
We were immediately assaulted by the screams and shouts of Capitol citizens as they clamoured for a look at us, as if we were animals in a zoo. The only thing holding them back were peacekeepers. I wanted to ignore them, I wanted nothing to do with them, I wanted to just go somewhere far away and never return. But I couldn't do any of those things. I looked to the side and saw Lysander pointing people out, muttering under his breath if he knew them or not, and if he knew them then I knew they were important, in other words they were the richer members of the Capitol and they would be the ones sponsoring tributes. And Finnick had turned on the charm yet again, giving that blinding smile, waving to the crowd, blowing kisses at women who swooned and almost collapsed at the attention. Even Mags was nodding her head at them, a smile stretched across her face at the attention she was receiving, but her eyes weren't smiling, the smile was for show, to keep up pretences. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.
That's when I saw her. A small girl dressed in a bright pink dress that puffed around her, golden hair coiled in ringlets with a matching bow half the size of her head keeping it out of her face. She was so tiny, and almost being crushed in the crowd, I could see panic on her face about to give way to tears. My eyebrows drew together and I glanced at Lysander before striding over to the peacekeepers.
“Excuse me.” I yelled, “I need to get to that girl there,” I pointed at her, “The one in the pink.” Surprisingly they listened and cleared a path for me. I could hear Lysander calling my name but I walked towards the girl and crouched down in front of her. She looked at me and I smiled.
“Hi there. What's your name? Are you okay?” I asked softly. She nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose.
“I'm Clio.” She answered in a tiny voice.
“There are a lot of people here aren't there Clio.” Nobody was making a sound, too busy watching me. “It can get a bit scary sometimes, especially when you're small like you.” She nodded again. “I'll tell you a little secret Clio.” Her eyes widened a bit and she leaned in. “I'm still scared of this as well sometimes.” I nodded solemnly. “But it's okay to be afraid of things and one day you might just find out that you aren't afraid anymore.” I plucked a flower that had been thrown at us by someone from the concrete floor, a pink carnation- my mind supplied, I snapped the stem and tucked the flower behind her ear. I smiled and she threw herself at me. Surprised, I patted her on the back and pulled away after a few seconds. She smiled back at me and held out a bouquet of flowers, all different colours and shapes, as I took them she tucked a white rose behind my own ear and whispered something.
“I want to be like you when I'm older.” The words hit me somewhere deep inside but I managed a smile and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before I walked back to the others. They all stared at me but I did what I did best and ignored them as people started calling my name much louder than before. My little display of humanity must have done something, made them feel something for once for that to happen.
Flowers sailed over my head and jewels clattered on the ground as they became even more frantic to catch our attention. I felt Finnick's gaze on my back as I walked just a little in front of them, lifting one hand at a time to wave to the crowd. They went wild. Scrambling over each other to get closer to me, yelling my name louder and louder. One step in front of the other. Petals from flowers crunching underfoot. I smiled slightly as we finally got to the Remake Centre where our stylists would be. Peacekeepers waiting inside separated us and led us off to different rooms in the vast interior. The last thing I heard as the elevator doors shut was Lysander talking to Mags, I only caught the end of his sentence.
I stood awkwardly in the elevator, four peacekeepers accompanying me. Four. Did they think I was Cashmere or Enobaria? Because I had never had more than one accompany me at any time. They only give you them if they think you're dangerous, but there was nothing dangerous about me at all. So why? A ding sounded and the doors opened, I was taken to a room and left there alone, simply looking around the room. It was all white, stark bright white, clinical almost and like freshly fallen snow, pristine. I waited for a few minutes, kicking my feet under the table I had decided to sit on, before a small group walked in, chattering away. They gasped immediately upon seeing me. Two women and a man, all with brightly coloured hair. They hurried over to me and introduced themselves.
“I'm Antonia,” said the one with bright blue hair, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
“And I’m Priscilla.” The other girl with silvery hair said brightly. I studied them, they looked similar, sisters maybe.
“I'm Quintus.” The man said. “We are your prep team.” They all smiled at me, a gesture supposed to be calming but the looks in their eyes made me nervous, and within moments the girls were stripping me of my clothing and bundled me into a bathtub filled to the brim with steaming hot water that was almost painful to touch. Antonia sprinkled bath salts into it that smelled overwhelmingly of lavender and mint. They scrubbed me with soap until my skin was red and raw but left a weird sparkle to it. My hair was shampooed and conditioned within an inch of its life, not a single tangle could be found once they were done with it. Then, they dragged me out, dried me off with a fluffy towel and wrapped me in a silk robe. They directed me to lie down, then they proceeded to tear out every scrap of hair on my body that they deemed unfit to be there. Warm wax spread across my skin, almost comforting before the pain that followed, then cool gel to stop the sting in one spot as they repeated the process again and again and again until I felt like a plucked chicken. Quintus spread some kind of clay mask on my face and let it sit while the others rubbed scented oils into my skin and sprayed perfume over me. He peeled the mask off and brushed some cream across my skin leaving it smooth and soft. I went to touch my face but he smacked my hand away, scolding me as if I was a child.
“No, no, no. You don't touch, we just got all the dirt out. Don't touch.” I didn't try to touch it again. They cleaned my nails, filed them into an almond shape and painted them a shining pale pink with pearly white tips, then did the same to my toes. They plucked and perfected me as if I were a doll for them to play with. All the while they chatted mindlessly and not a single word they said held any meaning to me. Talking about how exciting the games this year would be, who they thought would win- they assured me after that they definitely believed it could be me, I knew they were only lying to make me feel better. Fortunately for me they completely ignored my mark, perhaps they thought it was simply a tattoo since they were very common in the Capitol. Unfortunately for me they did not shy away from mentioning how attractive they found Finnick. I believe Antonia's exact words were that he could ‘Do whatever he wanted to her as long as the last thing she saw was his face.’ At that point I decided that the best thing would be to not listen so I tuned them out and nodded occasionally so they thought I was paying attention.
When they finished with me I had been primped to, what I assumed was in their eyes, perfection. They sat me down and inspected me, silently for once. Quintus hummed.
“Good job ladies.” He praised Antonia and Priscilla. Then to me. “Your stylist will be here in a moment. After she's dressed you, we’ll do your hair and makeup.”
"I thought that you did all that before.” At the confused look on my face as I spoke he elaborated. “She decided to do things a bit differently this year. Something about us being able to make you look better if we did it after because we would know what the dress looked like.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't understand personally but she's the boss.” Then they left. Giving me small waves and whispering to each other.
I stayed seated, wrapping the robe back around my body tightly, shivering as the cold air touched my legs. The door slammed open and I jumped, my head snapping up to see a woman. She was wearing a long black dress that had shimmering blue detailing on it at the hem and bodice. She smiled at me, her white teeth standing out against her dark skin.
“Hello Y/N. I'm Megara.” She said as she walked over to me. I could see her more clearly now. The blue on the dress was in a swirling pattern that reminded me of the waves back home, her hair was cut short with a fringe that fell just above her dark eyes that were flecked with green. “First I'd like to say that I admire what you did for her. Annie. It took great courage to volunteer to come back. Second, I am your stylist this year and I have a lot planned. Third, you're going to look incredible.” I blinked, surprised at how blunt she was.
“I've never seen you before.” I stated and she grinned.
“It's my first year styling for the games. I'm younger than the others but I've learnt a few tricks from my older brother.” I tilted my head questioningly. “You may have heard of him. His name is Cinna.” I tapped my fingers against my skin.
“Katniss Everdeen's stylist.” She nodded and hummed.
“Yes. And this year my mission is to beat him. Well, less of a mission, more that I just want to rub it in his face when my outfits for you are so much better than the ones he's made for the girl on fire.”
“How are you going to do that?” I asked softly and her grin widened.
“My brother uses fire. So I'm going to use water.” My eyes widened and I sat forward.
“I'll explain later but for now you need to get changed into these.“She waved a hand in the air dismissively and shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. “Once you’re ready I’ll get the others back in and let them do what they do, then I1ll explain what’s going to happen out there.” She shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. I walked over and into the tiny changing room and just before I shut the door she called out over her shoulder. “And I actually want you to wear the bra and pants. Unlike anyone else in this place.” I snorted with laughter and closed the door. Once I was alone, I zipped open the bag and emptied the contents onto a bench. A set of white underwear, a simple white dress and a matching set of heels. I quickly pulled them all on and stared at myself in the mirror on the wall. The dress fell around my body in a sheet of white, it clung to the upper half of my body like a second skin but flared out slightly at my waist and hung loosely to swing around my ankles. The sleeves sat off my shoulder, exposing my neck and collarbone, the sharp bones almost seemed to cut through my skin, the sleeves fell down to my wrists and the fabric formed a sharp point where my middle finger joined to the top of my hand. The shoes were open toed, thin straps crossing my ankles and just above my toes, they were unfortunately heels and incredibly uncomfortable. I walked unsteadily back into the room, arms thrown out to the side to balance myself. The second I stepped in, Megara whirled around and her hands flew to her mouth.
“Oh. You look perfect. The dress suits you so well, now sit, sit.” She waved me to sit down on a chair in the centre of the room. I sat and the prep team ran back into the room.
I was immediately swept up in a whirlwind of activity. They whipped out brushes, makeup palettes, hair brushes, sponges, pins, elastic bands, curling tongs, straighteners, and… was that a measuring tape? Quintus yanked my arms down to my side as Priscilla opened a huge case. He barked orders at her and she handed him everything he asked for. He painstakingly applied the makeup to my face, muttering things under his breath and twisting my head to inspect his work. Eventually he pulled back and Antonia took over. She brushed my hair viciously, making sure it was as smooth as possible. Then she curled it loosely, letting the curls fall down my back in spirals. She pulled the front part of my hair back and plaited them tightly around the back of my head in a crown. She twisted the loose strands out and let them gently frame my face, featherlight touches of hair against my cheeks. They finally stepped back to admire their work and gestured for me to stand up. I wobbled to my feet and gave a little spin, letting the hem of the dress flare out around me slightly.
“You are a masterpiece my dear.” Quintus told me. “You look incredible. Nobody will be able to top this.”
“Don't mess up the hair.” Antonia chimed in from behind him. I looked over my shoulder to see myself in a mirror Megara was holding up. They had given me only the thinnest layer of makeup to conceal my flaws, then added sparkling eyeshadow and dramatic mascara to lengthen my lashes. In effect, it made my eyes look larger and more pleading, more innocent. The dress revealed just over half of my back, cutting down in a soft curve and exposing the thin silvery scars weaving their way along my skin. Practically invisible from a distance which would be fine but close up they seemed to be the only thing you could see. They weren't ugly per se. They weren't as bad as some of the scars other victors had. In fact I quite liked them. They reminded me of home in a way. The way they twisted unpredictably across my skin like waves. Always changing, never staying the same for long. So no, they weren't ugly, at least not to me. To me they were beautiful. They reminded me of all the trials I had suffered, the torture I had undergone a few years ago when President Snow made me an offer. And I had refused. But you can't refuse Snow and expect to get away with it unpunished.
My hair was perfect, pinned up just right and styled in a way I never would have been able to recreate myself. The sleeves covered up my mark which was good, I wouldn't want to have to explain that to anyone, especially not the man I would be on the chariot with. I twisted my wrists to look at the palms of my hands rather than the white satin, soft against my sharp bones, reddened dents from my fingernails lined them, small bruises from smacking my hands down too hard on corner surfaces and calluses spread across them. Perfect as far as they could see, with the best clothes, flawless makeup . But not really.
“Now hold still just a moment dear.” Priscilla swooped down on me like a vulture, brandishing baby pink lipstick and gloss. She swiped them onto my lips as quick as a flash, leaving them slightly tinted and glowing. They all turned to look at Megara and when she gave a decisive nod of approval they all filed out of the room, lugging behind their suitcases and bags. No sooner had they left the room, Megara sat me back down and brought out a jewellery box. She reached in and took out a sparkling diamond necklace. I gasped and she clasped it around my neck.
“So the necklace is really just for a bit of bling. This is the pièce de résistance.” She dipped her hands back into the box and extracted a delicate tiara, thin pieces of silver wrapped around diamonds and pearls. She placed it gently on my hair, tucking the sides of it under the braid to secure it. “Now you look perfect.” She told me, holding up the mirror so I could see myself again. I took in the plains of my face, she was right, I did look the perfect part. She interrupted my thoughts. “I should tell you I have no idea what Finnick will be wearing because his stylist has hated me ever since I refused to go out with her brother. “ She rolled her eyes. “It's a long story that one. But given his appeal to the Capitol I would say it'll be interesting to say the least. In any case, you'll look incredible next to him. Now I should probably tell you what you're going to do when you're in the chariot okay. So listen up because I'm only going to say it once.” I listened intently, a smile blooming on my face as she gestured wildly, animatedly explaining her master plan to me. I asked a few questions which she answered, albeit a little reluctantly. Then she was checking her watch and ushering me out the door and down to where the chariots would be waiting. “We have half an hour until the procession. I know I'm only your stylist but try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Although that may be hard considering this dress. “ I laughed loudly.
“Don't worry Meg. I'll be fine and it'll all work out. I promise.” I clasped her hand in mine and grinned. “Now I'll make you a bet.” Her eyebrows rose and she leaned in. “I bet you Finnick will be wearing nothing on top and not nearly enough on the bottom.” She eyed me up and down.
“Okay then, why not. I'll take my chances. Besides,” she smirked,” I'm not so sure you'd necessarily be opposed to that.” Her eyes latched onto my wrist and she gave me a knowing smile as I flushed bright red. “I won't tell. I promise. We can gossip about it later.” She winked and with that was gone, yelling over her shoulder. “See you out there angel.” I smiled at her antics, a smile quickly replaced as peacekeepers escorted me through the doors and into the huge space where all the tributes were gathering. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.
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