❖ Book 1 of 3 ❖
【 Slow burn fanfic 】
║ A Prequel to the Hunger Games Trilogy ║
Isla Dunne of District 4 was a career. She had trained her whole life for the Hunger Games, an annual event held by the Capitol. A blood bath where 2 children, ages 12-18...
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ISLA HAD TO admit, it was hard getting out of bed the first day of training. An avox had already started running the shower for her, but she couldn't help wanting to stay cuddled up in the soft sheets. Eventually, though, she had to drag herself out of bed and shower. She politely requested the avox french braid her hair into two braids once she was finished, allowing her to keep it out of her face for the day.
She thanked the avox as the skeletal looking girl laid out a form-fitting t-shirt and pants on her bed. They were black, grey and red, with the number four embroidered on the upper arms. She quickly changed, already able to hear Fleur's giggling in the main room of the floor. Everyone was likely already dressed and eating breakfast, and Isla wasn't one to be late.
As she emerged into the great room, she observed as everyone sat and ate, laughing and enjoying themselves. Even Annie seemed to be holding a quiet conversation with Finnick. Isla sat herself beside Killian, and the noise dimmed down as they all looked at her. "Sleep well?" Finnick asked with a smirk.
"Incredibly." She responded flatly, not ready to forgive him for his negligence just yet. Finnick shared a look with Fleur, who just shrugged. Isla decided to not provide an explanation and let the victor figure it out himself.
"Eat up, you two have a big day ahead of you!" Fleur clapped, breaking the awkward silence as she shoved more food in front of Killian.
Finnick nodded as he sipped from his glass of orange juice. "Focus more on survival aspects today. Scout the competition. If you like the look of anyone, let me know and I'll get in touch with the other mentors if you don't want to go up to the tribute yourself. I wouldn't pick up any weapons until you know what you're dealing with."
"You didn't, right?" Isla questioned, looking at the man as she shoved a bit of bacon in her mouth.
"Yes, I avoided using any weapons in training."
"And that's why they didn't even consider going after you." Isla stated it as a fact, rather than a question.
"I was fourteen, it was an easy angle to work with."
"Well, we're both basically eighteen. And we both volunteered. I don't think that's going to work for us." Isla countered. Killian looked up from his plate, now intrigued.
Finnick stared at the blonde-haired girl for a moment. "Look, if you want to look like a threat straight off the bat, by all means, grab whatever it is you used in training back home, and go for it. But until those four kids have decided if they want either of you, I'd highly recommend not doing that. The minute you look like a worthy opponent, you're first on the kill list."
Finnick had a point, but Isla couldn't figure one thing out. "So how do I make them want to team with me if I can't show them that I'm skilled in combat?"
