𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒌 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒆 » 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

STILL RECLINED IN her chair, lounging in the lack of attention she was receiving, Rowan found her mind beginning to wander, for something else to occupy the curious part of her mind. A glance at the TV - the conversation sounding as static as the slight buzzing that came from the object that now held her attention- revealed the District 11 tributes to her eyes, which were lightly hooded with weariness. A small girl, likely twelve, with large doe eyes but a surprisingly lithe undertone to her form stood on the stage, subdued by the shadow of her District Partner - a towering boy who was likely to be one of the eldest in this year's Games. His jaw was set, and with a momentary flash of white - the subtitles - she found that their names were Thresh and Rue. She wouldn't bother with their last names in acknowledgement that she might gain an actual interest in their progress and hoping that they might make it out alive. She'd given up on hope a long time ago - it was veritably dead to her. A momentary lapse in the conversation at the table, a flash of white on grey and the Capitol seal - the odd ebb of everything meant that with the next words that their Escort uttered (some that were actually useful), her attention was away from the screen once again and kept it there long enough for her to miss the last District. For her to miss Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

"Now, once we arrive, they'll all be wanting to meet you. You've got to smile, to make them like you, otherwise you're on your own, and nobody that happens to wins the Games sane." Rowan sent her a silent look, not storing any concern for the Escort's opinion of her, but instead feeling more inclined to roll her eyes at the woman's tactlessness. Orion continued the Escort's sentiment, and Rowan's inclination for spite was lost among the two names that still hung in the air around them - the ones that Rowan hadn't quite caught.

"Exactly. Now, sponsors will save your life nine of ten times. That list time is up to you, though. They can give you food, weapons, medicine, and we can send you advice through the notes they let you send with it. These Capitolites need to love you, more than everyone else, and that's gonna be tough. We've got to figure out your angles." The two tributes glanced at each other briefly, before Finch's attention returned to Orion and Zeus' went to the table, the dark hardwood glinting under his gaze.

"Finch, you're smart, small, fast, and you look innocent. Use that; trick their minds into thinking that you're just a kid who needs protection, but don't let them think you can't fight for yourself - its rare that many sponsors go for the Underdogs. So, say as many things as you can to let them know about your life and how young you are - your family, how you only want to see them again. Lie to them, manipulate them, do pretty much whatever you need to do to persuade them. That last bit goes for both of you.

"Zeus, what about you? Well, you're not bad on the eyes, and you have a good feeling about you. How are you at being persuasive?" The tribute had jerked his head up to Orion, his own name clearly sparking more interest than the rest of the conversation - advice that was going to keep him alive. A sucker for attention, Rowan noted to herself quietly. He would be good at the parade, at the interview; he would enjoy bathing in the spotlight in a way she couldn't quite grasp the concept of.

"I could do it, I think," he replied, his voice near-silent but somehow strong, and there was no quaver in his words nor his body, because the butter knife he held was reflection an unwavering shaft of light onto the side of Rowan's face, where it had been since he'd perked up at the sound of his name.

"Good, good, good," the Escort's voice clattered  in her ears, as the Capitol anthem blared in the background, announcing the end of the Reaping Broadcast chimed, weaving through Rowan's focus and dragging it to the TV. A soft huff of air escaped her when she realised she'd missed some vital information regarding this year's tributes and districts. She wasn't overly observant, but her incessant need to be informed tended to make her curiosity keen when it came to serious matters. Giving up on tuning out the Escort's constant chattering, she swiftly stood, pushed her chair in, and retreated back to her room.

The sun was lower in the sky now, and the slats of gold that slipped through the blinds had cut sections on her skin flesh, tainting it gold and slipping other parts into shadow. Her mind, as much in shadow as her face, chest , and lower abdomen were, could barely register the hallway through the light that was barred over her eyes. She had been here too many times, however, her footsteps sounding a familiar beat and the darkness in the hallway seeming insignificant in her odd mind. Her room was only slightly different to how she'd left it half an hour ago; everything had been put back exactly where it was meant to be, according to the Avoxes who made her room every time she was on the train - and there was a vase on her bedside table. A pair of white lilies, and three roses. Rowan regarded it, for a second, quietly appreciating their good condition, before she ran a finger gently underneath one of the rose petals, lifting it up out of the way to see if it had been pruned.

It hadn't. A subtle waning that she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't passed so much time gardening in the past few months. It sped up time. Made endless waiting more... bearable. Made that searing pain go away, if only for a few hours.

~

ROWAN WAS CLOSING a drawer that rattled with the noise of the contents within (that she'd become awfully familiar with) when three knocks sounded on her door. Assuming it was the one Avox (a dark-skinned, slim woman) who ever bothered to attend to her needs as well as she was meant to, she uttered a soft 'come in'. The avox had a calming air about her that made Rowan inclined to be gentler in her presentation of herself. It wasn't that woman who walked in, however, and instead when she looked to the doorway, she found Zeus looking about her room nervously, and she caught a glimpse of Finch's red hair and small figure lost behind his height. She straightened almost immediately, checking that the drawer had fully closed with her hand - she didn't dare to glance at it and give herself away, considering Finch's sharp eyes.

The girl in question nudged Zeus in the ribcage with her shoulder and his head shot to her incredulously as he mouthed silent words at her in a panicked way, his hands gesturing for her to speak to Rowan, instead of him. She watched the scene with a vague level of amusement, swiftly drawing her hand back towards her body, not quite afraid, but nervous that one of the tributes would notice her hand resting on the handle. They didn't seem to curious about her though, more the room they stood in, because even as Finch pushed Zeus forwards slightly, both of their eyes immediately returned to roaming the contents of her room, probably still attempting to deal with the level of luxury the Capitol lived in and provided for them.

"Umm.. We were-," another glance at Finch, "-We were wondering if you had any extra advice for us?" Rowan smiled more obviously, her dark demeanour retreating a little as she surveyed the tributes. She rarely spoke to people, and people never sought her out. It made something inside of her warm, however distantly.

"Well.."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey. It's been a while. Finally got some time to write. It's short and not that much happens but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

JABBERJAY_011

WORDS [1400]

WRITTEN [16.2.2022]

PUBLISHED [16.2.2022]