The Sterling Nightingale ⟷ Finnick Odair/OC

To the undercurrent of your smile

Chapter Fifty Two | To the undercurrent of your smile

"Her heart seemed all at once to be in complete peace, and, though it still ached with undefined longing, a vague and delicious hope soothed it as with a balm." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel

To anyone who did not know Silver Lamprey Cornelius – which is the majority of Panem – she appears to have an almost lazy, unhurried presence as she leans against the wooden railing of the second floor outlook. Her hands lay upon the polished wood idly, and there is a bored countenance to her face as she scans the rose gardens by the perimeter of the grounds. But, to the trained eye, she is tense and not so lazy after all. Her shoulders are set just so, and her chin is stubbornly lifted as her eyes peer down with subtle calculation, thoughts whirling and reeling with both possibilities and uncertainties.

When her PAAD lets off a gentle beep, she raises it to her face immediately, with a thirst that speaks very little of the boredom she outwardly maintains. And, upon seeing Tommy's name flash across the screen, Sil devours the communication with all the eagerness of a riled, wary animal.

"Where are you?" she asks upon opening the line of communication between them. She doesn't pause to share pleasantries. Her mind is far too tempestuous to bother with doling out such remarks.

Tommy's voice crackles into existence with a, "I've just arrived at Dorsey's shop. Is something wrong?"

Normally she might humor him with a simpered response dredged up from the recesses of her alter ego – the sort of inane flowery speech that she has spent seven years spewing left and right for the benefit of her own secrets – but today, she merely replies, "I believe there might be something very wrong. When is the soonest you can arrive at the manor?"

The question makes Tommy pause, no doubt surprised at the serious tone in which she murmurs the words. She can almost hear his worried frown.

"Give me a few hours," he tells her, knowing it won't be easy to make the trip. Through Dorsey's shop is not so very far from the manor, there's the issue of getting through the rebel soldiers who guard the grounds with undying determination. He'll have to prove to them that he is a part of their cause, which may take some convincing.

Sil expects this, naturally, and says, "Come as soon as you can. And bring some supplies with you."

The sudden request has Tommy immediately asking, "Supplies? What for?"

It is not such an odd question, really. They've won this great war that they have set out to do. There is little need for Sil to smuggle herself across borders or disguise herself from any wavering eyes. She expects this, too, but is unwilling to explain it to him in such an open place, where anyone could be listening in.

Instead, she just murmurs, "You'll know when you arrive. Bring the Factory uniform – and one for yourself. You'll be coming with me, if you're willing."

He is surely confused about this strange turn of events, and the reasons behind Sil wanting their borrowed uniforms worn by the Factory workers in District 1, but Tommy does not argue or ask further questions. He's accustomed to the way Sil operates, and he knows that he will understand everything once he reaches the manor.

"Two Factory uniforms coming right up," is all he returns with, and wonders, "Anything else?"

Sil's mouth twists into a subtle smirk as she peers down at the rose gardens.

"Only one thing," she murmurs, eyes flashing. "...Make sure you come armed. You and I, Tommy – we're about to witness something we've never seen before. You're going to want to be prepared."