FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

5.7 yes

"I'm sorry... What?"

President Coin's voice was full of equal disbelief and confusion, and it sounded as though she wanted to laugh. Calypso was glad not to be facing her alone, at least. Haymitch and Effie of all people had joined her in the room, stood on either side with such commanding presences that she was glad for considering she did not feel very powerful in that moment.

"I believe she made herself clear, Madam President," Haymitch mused, waving his hands around like he did when he was drunk. Even sober, he acted like he was three bottles deep. A coping mechanism, she speculated. Every word was dragged out and borderline sarcastic, but it worked for what he was doing. "For some reason, she came to me looking for approval, but I'm inclined to think it's a good idea. The girl wants a wedding. Why not give it to her? Doesn't she deserve it?"

"Don't we all deserve it?" Effie sighed whimsically with a hand to her heart. "This place is dismal. There are more soldiers than there are smiles. Perhaps an event to inspire people - to inspire love - is exactly what we need!"

Coin's narrowed eyes darted between the older man and woman, but they eventually settled on Calypso between them, who had a strained smile on her lips. It had taken her a whole night to decide what to do. She hadn't returned to her and Finnick's room, and at the first opportunity in the morning had gone to find Haymitch. Effie invited herself along after overhearing talk of a proposal.

"It's not a bad idea," Plutarch voiced. He had such a quiet presence in the room, yet Calypso could tell he had the president's ear, because her eyes were on him next. "We could make a spectacle of it. Victors from two different districts, one of which was recently liberated from the Capitol and one of the driving forces behind the rebellion. This could be good for us, for the districts."

Coin's gaze returned to Calypso, who had yet to say a word beyond 'I want to get married'. The older woman's gaze was cold, questioning and calculating. She was considering it, if only for herself and her cause. In truth, it was not about seeing two people in love be happy. The effect it could have on morale for the rebels in Thirteen and beyond was tremendous. They respected Calypso, if nothing else. She had no reason to aggravate the frankly dangerous young woman now, not when she had to keep her assets in check, her and the Mockingjay alike.

"Fine," the woman said simply. "We'll hold a ceremony here in a week's time. Effie, Haymitch, I'm sure you can handle preparations amongst you. Plutarch, figure out a way to turn this into a worthwhile propo. Is that all, Miss Silva?"

Miss Silva. Calypso swallowed down the feral growl she wanted to release. Next to her, Effie began to squeal and ramble on about things she could do for the wedding, but she was far too busy staring Coin down to acknowledge it. She hated her. For whatever reason, she well and truly hated her. It was something in those eyes, something in that cold stare that showed off the same dangerous ego as Snow. Something about the way she said her name. Miss Silva.

"No, it's not," she said. "I want Peeta to get a new room. He-"

"Excuse me?"

"He deserves better than what you're giving him," Calypso continued despite Coin's interruption. Everyone else in the room had gone quiet, even Effie. "Was it not Peeta that saved you all by warning you of the bombing at his own expense? You're torturing him in that room, having those bright lights on him all the time and keeping him tied down."

"It was him," she agreed. "But we can't just let him out. He's dangerous."

"So was I," she pointed out. "I killed one of your soldiers, attacked one of your doctors, but you let me out. Hell, you're giving me a wedding."