THE DINNER PASSED BY IN A BLUR. Aella sat in her chair staring into the mahogany wood for the most part, enslaved by the conflicting feelings she was subjected to. She struggled to control the constant tremor of her right hand as she fought between anger and fear over and over again. The war raged on inside her mind and she couldn't escape it. The dark clouds had consumed the sky that was her twisted mind and thunder clapped in a deafening roar. Lightning pounded through—warning of an oncoming storm.

She hardly touched her food. She couldn't indulge in the delights the Capitol had to offer. The roast venison on her plate went cold, she sight of her favourite honey roasted carrots and parsnips made her feel sick. Her back was ramrod straight in her chair and her eyes barely left the plate in front of her. She didn't participate in conversation, didn't try to pretend she okay.

Drew's presence within the room was enough to make her feel threatened. The Goddess remained by her side, ready to protect her no matter the cost but even then it wasn't enough. Aella did not feel safe. The Career's eyes bore into her skull the entire night, watching her every move with murderous intent and she struggled to keep her head above the clouds. They were waiting for her to break like a fragile glass—like the girl she was and not the woman she had become.

Even that woman was still ruled by fear. She was as fragile as ever but physically had never been stronger. The state of mind she teetered in was dangerous. It was the kind of hazy cloud that would get her killed within seconds. She was both terrified and vengeful... unfocused and distracted.

The day was too much for her to process and all she wanted to do was shut down for the night, locked away in the safety of her bedroom. She couldn't, however, there was one hurdle standing between her and another painful nights slumber... her alliance with the rebellion.

She had been too distracted to hear the hushed whispers and after the dinner had officially drawn to succession Johanna Mason guided her to the seventh floor and out of the elevators towards her and Blight's living quarters. There was nothing in the rule book that stated tributes couldn't visit other tributes living quarters. To anyone watching it looked like a gathering in the District Seven apartment—even if they did all go in at different times.

Aella was shocked when she entered Johanna's living quarters to see the Victors—because that's what they were, not tributes—standing around. She never expected the rebellion to be as big as it was, especially as she stood among twelve others.

Shock took her prisoner for some few minutes and she stood in awe of the people around her. The sight ignited a fire inside her stomach. The rebellion was far greater than what she realised. There were thirteen—including her—of twenty-four. Not including the two leaders of said rebellion. Katniss and Peeta weren't included in their numbers but even so, over half of the Victors had signed up to the cause and it spoke volumes in itself.

Aella never expected there to be so many willing participants. She thought she, Johanna and Finnick would be the only ones to put themselves forward but as her eyes danced across the likes of the Morphling duo and Wiress and Beetee her expectations had been exceeded. She wasn't surprised to see Seeder and Chaff after the riots that had occurred within District Eleven. They were both eternally grateful to Katniss for what she had done to protect Rue last year.

Haymitch had done well.

Even so, Aella's participation within the rebellion was just as crucial as everyone else's and everything had changed since she agreed to join. Her conditions had to be tightened and they had to be upheld. The mess of her individual assessment weighed heavy over her shoulders and the reminder of what she had showcased mere hours ago replayed in the forefront of her mind. It forced her legs to move over toward to the bar where she swiped up a bottle of whiskey and took the lid from it, drinking straight from the bottle.

The Victors involved within the rebellion stood around the apartment awkwardly while Aella walked to the large floor to ceiling windows silently. She raised her hand above her, leaning to the wall as she stared at the Presidential Palace with fiery intent and with her other hand she drank from the bottle again.

Across the room, Johanna met Finnick's gaze and she shook her head at him. It was a message only he would ever understand and it forced dread to pull at the deepest parts of his stomach. His eyes shifted to the barely put together woman standing by the window and he excused himself from Mags with a loving smile. The older woman patted his shoulder once, settling on the sofa and she watched Finnick walk slowly to Aella.

He didn't know what had happened in the corridor before the dinner started and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. There was always something about Drew Lopez and Aella that did not sit right with him. He hated when they were forced to stand by one another, forced to share the same living quarters. He knew what Drew had been capable of and it enticed the fiery monster within him and drew him to the surface. Drew Lopez was just as much of a trigger for Finnick as he was for Aella.

He treaded slowly, hands tucked deeply into the pockets of his trousers. The suit he wore was constricting. He was never one for tight clothing, baggy white dress shirts and pants suited him better with him being from District Four. They wore clothes that were breathable, trousers that were
loose at the ankles and shirts that were easy to fish in.

The suit trapped him. It was beautiful in design and in colour, a deep navy blue with a stiff collar. Aella hadn't had the chance to admire him in it but if she had, butterflies would no doubt of pulled at every orifice of her body. He looked like a God—beautiful and crafted by the Heavens himself.

He didn't say anything when he arrived at her side. She sensed him ten steps ago and he knew it by the way her shoulders tensed lightly. They never tensed in his presence, they only ever relaxed and he knew something was clearly not right. He held silent, his eyes danced over the dark sky and the way the streets of Panem were lit up before them. He reflected on how many times he'd stood and watched the night sky from strangers windows wishing to be standing by someone different. Now he had her, however, she didn't break her silence and he knew it was him who would have to push first.

"Ella," He called quietly. He knew they were in a safe space, the first time they'd been safe since they arrived to the Capitol. Nothing would ever leave that room. They were all allies with no need to hide from one another. They wouldn't use their weaknesses to their advantage, they wouldn't kill one another. They all formed a bond around a mutual agreement and it was strong. It would remain strong and that was what Finnick relied on when he stepped closer to her. His body turned directly to her and he leaned against the glass window, his large frame almost curling around her as he leaned against his palm that was raised.

They would never have been caught in such a compromising position before, not with the eyes of greedy Capitol patrons and cameras watching their every move. In a room full of allies they were free and Finnick enjoyed not having to hide in the shadows with her anymore.

She didn't respond to his call. Her eyes didn't even shift and it made him wonder if he even heard her under all the noise in her head. His fingers reached out and clasped her jaw within his strong grip and he guided her face toward him, leaning ever so close while repeating himself.

Finally her eyes tore away from the Presidential Palace and her breath hitched in her throat when she saw just how close he was to her. Fear extinguished the flame of fire in her eyes and they instead widened. The feel of Finnick's calloused hands against her skin left a tingling sensation to dance across every place he touched.

She tried to draw away as every voice in her mind warned her of the eyes around. Her heart however begged her to stay but she didn't. She had to move. She couldn't risk them being spotted together.

To her surprise, Finnick didn't let her pull away. He only tightened his grip on her jaw. It didn't hurt, if anything it was painfully pleasurable. It was intimate and new. They'd never been allowed to do anything like that before—not even had the chance to steal a kiss.

"Ella," He whispered her name again and his hot breath fanned over her face. All she could manage was a mixture between a hum and a grunt and it enticed him to continue, "We're safe here, okay? Tell me what's wrong."

His words pulled her under and he saw it. Her eyes clouded, a hazy film covering them in protection. Her entire persona curled in, drawing back from him yet her body didn't move. It was barely noticeable but he knew her far too well. He had memorised her every tell and beside popping her fingers this was her main one. It drew him to his next question.

"What did you do?"

Her eyes locked on his, wild and fearful, and he knew he'd hit the nail on the head. It was never a matter of what was wrong, it was what she had done. The superstitious voice in his mind screamed her perfect score of twelve. She'd had many interactions with Drew before that had led to violence and he hadn't seen her this rattled following them.

There was something not right with her—mentally and physically. He could see the gears turning in her head, the wicked voices feeding her poison and dragging her down and he needed to save her. He needed to drag her back to the surface, even if she did kick and scream the entire way and this was how he had to start.

He saw her start to shutdown. He saw the same fright in her eyes her thirteen year old self wore when he met her the first time. He hadn't seen that fright in years and it scared him. For while she still felt fear and panic he hadn't seen fright in her eyes like it since she had been forced into the Games. Whatever this was it was far worse than what he'd anticipated.

His eyes hardened somewhat as fear gnawed at his stomach, "Ella, what did you do?"

The sound of a door slamming echoed through the room and they both turned to see Haymitch Abernathy walking in. The organiser of this part of the rebellion stared at each individual Victor before he nodded to himself and said, "We have much to discuss."

He poured himself a drink before anything and walked to the large mahogany dining table, settling down at the head. The Victors followed him, some sitting while others chose to stand until it was just Aella and Finnick left by window. She didn't look back as she walked away from Finnick, leaving him to drop his head and curse under his breath. He had no choice but to follow her and he pulled out the chair next to Mags to sit while she stood at the end of the table opposite Haymitch. The bottle of whiskey was placed on the table in front of her and she leaned forward on her hands, the muscles in her shoulders flexing.

"As you know a rebellion is forming and with it a war is on the horizon," Haymitch told them all, "Plutarch Heavenbee has been planning this for years and when riots sparked in the Districts following Katniss and Peeta's win he knew it was time. He volunteered as Head Gamemaker and he's been putting his plan into motion ever since. You all have a crucial involvement in this war. You inspire the Districts with your rebellion, some of you more than others," He said and he glanced at Aella fleetingly.

It didn't go unnoticed however and she swallowed deeply as others looked at her.

"Unfortunately that puts a target on your back, the rebellions back," He said, "In a manner of speaking they are threatened by you. The Captiol is threatened by you. President Snow is threatened by you."

Johanna scoffed loudly and she shook her head while an annoyed smile rose to her features, "Hence the recall of the previous Victors."

"Precisely," Haymitch nodded, raising his glass to Johanna, "It's his perfect way to eliminate the Queens on his chess board.... It doesn't go without a hitch however. The rebellion is dangerous and a spanner has been thrown and lodged deeply within our plan."

Finnick hummed, his curious eyes shone under the light and he asked, "Which is?"

"Three perfect scores of twelve."

Aella's jaw clenched as eyes cast to her. She knew. She knew it was all a ploy, a target stabbed deeply in her back, a bounty put on her head. It was her death sentence.

"One twelve? Expected. It's the Quarter Quell after all. Previous Victors with unparalleled strength and skills. Three?" Haymitch shook his head as a smile curved across his lips, "They're targets and Plutarch said it himself."

The pride that Finnick felt when he heard Aella's score had long disappeared. He thought it was because she deserved it, because she did, but clearly he was wrong. Instead, dread had replaced it and he looked at her with almost painful eyes and asked again, "What did you do?"

Haymitch grinned at Aella, "Plutarch commemorates you deeply, Aella, but word got to Snow of what you did before the assessments even finished."

Aella eyed Haymitch and said, "So he told you then? What I did."

Haymitch merely shook his head in response. It surprised her.

Aella swiped the liquor up from the table and took a long gulp. Her face twisted in small displeasure as it burned her throat on the way down. She exhaled deeply and placed the bottle back on the table, "I made a vow to myself that if I was going down I would drag President Snow down with me," She said somewhat vaguely and it brought a frown to drag on both Johanna and Finnick's lips. Things had changed since they were reaped, they had this card to play now and if it all worked out and they were lucky enough they would walk about of that arena into safety.

Aella couldn't put all her eggs into one basket however. She couldn't rely on the possibility of Plutarch pulling this rebellion and their rescue off. Even if he did manage it and she was granted safety in District Thirteen she would be untouchable and she could sit back and enjoy the havoc she had created. If it would do anything, it would turn the Districts against Snow. She had to show him that she wasn't just a piece on his board he could eliminate, she was a competitor and one he should be fearful of.

She pursed her lips as her eyes focused on the smooth wood beneath her hands, "In some essence I fucked up," She admitted, "I knew the twelve would be a bounty, if not a death sentence."

Haymitch nodded once in understanding. He was more than curious to hear what it was she had done within the ten minutes of her individual assessment. If it was anything like what Katniss had displayed she was in for a great deal of trouble—he had no idea it was much, much, worse however. He only knew of what Heavensbee had told him and even then it wasn't much, just that while he commemorated what she had done no one else within the Capitol did. Her score was purely a bounty—decided by President Snow himself.

"I can't change what I did," She almost whispered, "But my conditions change...they need protection, Haymitch." She said to him with stern eyes, "From the very second that cannon sounds and no later. The second I'm in that arena they are all as good as dead, as am I."

Haymitch nodded his head in understanding. It was a difficult ask but one he knew he must uphold. The last thing he wanted on his back was her if and when she made it out of the Games alive to be told the closest thing she has to a family had been killed.

"It can't be that bad," Johanna said, her brow quirking curiously as she looked at Aella. When she saw her protective stance however and her guarded eyes her brows furrowed, "Can it?"

Aella closed her eyes for a moment and dropped her head. She couldn't compose herself no matter how hard she tried. She had dug her grave too deep and now she couldn't climb back out. There was only one way to go and that was deeper. She may as well. What else could happen to her? Until the Games started she was protected. Snow had no jurisdiction over her while she resided in the Capitol awaiting the sound of that starting cannon. The sudden death of a Victor with just over thirty-odd hours to go would be too suspicious. Snow couldn't have it on his hands and Aella knew it. That's why she continued to play him.

She straightened up and delivered the final blow while looking across the table through her lashes, "Let's just say I'd be six feet under right now if I weren't headed for the Games."

Her words were blunt and her tone was harsh. The severity of what she had done laid heavy among the other Victors in the room. No one knew what to say. They were all too busy imagining what it was she had done that was so bad. They all drew a blank however and in his chair, Finnick dropped his head and cradled it in his hand with a heavy, stress induced sigh. Mags placed her hand over his in comfort but it did nothing to aid him.

Unease gripped at his heart as he registered her words. I'd be six feet under by now if I weren't headed for the Games. He knew she was impulsive and rash but he never truly thought she would ever step over the line that would ultimately hand her her life sentence. He thought she had better control than that and he came to quickly realise that he did not know her in that sense as well as he thought he did.

There was always someone by her side as her voice of reason. They were who pulled her back when the Goddess of War took over. Once she saw red she couldn't claw her way back out of hell—there was always someone by her side who dragged her out kicking and screaming. He'd done it countless times before, as had Johanna, Daniel and Clio.

Why he thought she could drag herself back he never knew. He knew her every trigger and he recalled the room the individual assessments took place in earlier that day. He searched every inch of his memories for something that could've set the trigger off in her mind for the gates of Hell to open and suck her in.

He stood by the open doors, eyes lingering over the panel of Gamemakers, socialites and governors alike. He greeted them with a deep curve of his lips, a smug smirk, and amused eyes as Heavensbee welcomed him, informing him of the ten minutes he was allocated to impress them. He knew it would only take ten seconds before they were enthralled, perching on the edge of their seats desperate for more. 

He pursed his lips and nodded, running his tongue across the inside of his cheek and his bottom lip. His hands were clasped loosely behind him and his charming aura shone bright. He readied himself to impress, moving to take a step forward as he inhaled deeply. The distinct stench of white roses pierced his nose and he turned his head to the left to admire the vase of the pristine flowers that decorated the door.

He shook his head to himself as he pushed forward. Even in their individual assessments President Snow had found a way to make it known to them that he was always watching. It was the constant reminder and it fuelled his fire that was concealed by the grin that pulled on his lips.

He released a small sigh. She hated the sight of white roses and the stench even more so. He remembered the way she dissociated so deeply he thought she would never come back when she finally told him of the day she found her family lying dead within her home. The white rose petals began at the closed door and they led her to her mother, father and brother like a taunting game of hide and seek. It had been Snow's way of destroying her every last resolve, her punishment for the refusal of his offer.

Finnick had never been so eternally grateful when she told him she refused but his heart couldn't take her pain when Snow punished her for it. It made his pain somewhat easier knowing that when he couldn't sleep on a night—stuck in some strangers bed—she wasn't in the same position a few blocks away. He was content knowing she was safe within her own home and not suffering the same fate he was. For while he was thankful she was protected from the feasting eyes and hungry souls of the Capitol he hated that she had lost her family in the process.

"If anything it means your allies within the Games have to be even tighter than before." Haymitch instructed them all before he said, "I trust you all know who your allies are?"

Silence seeped across the table and the Victors...tributes—whatever you wanted to call them—all shared fleeting glances with one another. They'd been watching each other closely all week but ultimately it led to this alliance.

"Seeder and I will work together." Chaff said, hinting to the rest of them that they weren't fond of broadening their horizons. Aella couldn't blame them, if all they knew was one another why change it?

"Blight and I are allying," Johanna was the next to say and disdain pulled her face into a deep scowl as she added, "with Beetee and Wiress."

Haymitch nodded and he looked at Beetee head on, "We need you for this rebellion. Heavensbee requested your specific skill set."

Beetee forced a smile to his face and he spoke for the first time since he arrived, "Well then he should've deterred the idea of the re-reaping."

All the Victors in the room could was nod their heads in agreement. The rebellion had been made harder by them all being thrown back into a torturous arena and forced to kill to survive.

The man glanced over at Johanna afterward and he offered her an appreciative nod, "We do thank you, however."

Johanna didn't seem to respond but Blight nodded in mutual understanding.

"Cecelia and I will team." Woof said, he and his District partner also staying close to one another, "If we make it through the first night we will be waiting for you by the Cornucopia."

They all nodded and it left the Morphling duo, Finnick, Mags and Aella. It was an easy equation to figure out though Aella wasn't happy that Johanna would not be a part of their group.

"Mags and I will team with Aella." Finnick said after he read the Morphlings quickly. They seemed to agree to separate and do their own thing though everyone knew if they didn't run in the opposite direction the second the starting cannon sounded they'd both die in the bloodbath.

Aella didn't get a choice on who she allied with but she couldn't complain about it. Her choice would've always been Finnick and now that he knew her score of twelve was a target on her back he felt the need to protect her even more so than ever.

"Is that wise?" Haymitch asked hesitantly, looking between Finnick and Aella, "You'll be the one to ally with Katniss and Peeta after all."

I want her where I can see her, he wanted to respond, where I know she's safe with me. He bit his tongue for a minute but then he remembered he was in a safe space and that he was allowed to show how deeply he cared for Aella. He couldn't say much without actually giving himself away to her though, because he hadn't ever told her verbally but he was sure she knew.

"It's wise." Finnick said with gritted teeth and Aella could feel butterflies flapping lightly in her stomach at his protective nature toward her. In any other circumstance she'd be offended but she knew it wasn't because he didn't think she couldn't handle herself. Finnick knew she had one of the best odds at winning. He wasn't worried about her physical ability to produce. He was worried about the Careers targeting her and Snow ordering every hit possible on her from pods and whatnot. He needed her by his side so he could protect her in the way he knew best.

Aella nodded, "I want him."

Haymitch couldn't fight their decision. After all, if anything it was more protection for Katniss and Peeta. They had agreed to put them first and they formed a strong group between Aella's skills with a knife, Finnick's physical strength and Katniss' bow and arrow skills. They definitely outranked the four Careers.

Haymitch looked at Aella with an unreadable expression when he said, "And Drew?"

Everyone in the room tensed, everyone except Aella.

She stood up tall and crossed her arms over her chest. His name should've done something to her—should've made her feel some kind of fear or anger but for once it didn't. Perhaps it was the words she was about to speak that changed it all.

They all watched as she shrugged with indifference and said, "I'll have killed him long before any of us can find our allies."

And she didn't expect it but Chaff stepped forward gently and said, "We'll make sure the Careers any everyone not involved stay off your back."

Woof and Cecilia nodded in agreement, "As will we."

A glance around the room saw everyone nodding and agreeing.

"I'll be at your back." Johanna said honestly, sick malice shining in her eyes, "I'll even fight for whatever weapon you want to use on him."

Blight nodded, "We'll fight for whatever time you need."

Their words—honest words—choked her. Her throat bobbed as she looked across her fellow Victors who had gathered to fight for this better world they believed in. She hoped each and every one of them could see the pure gratitude and thanks in her eyes.

The Morphling duo nodded in agreement and when Mags placed her hand over her heart and smiled at Aella her bottom lip wobbled. She leashed her tears before they could even surface to her eyes and looked finally at Finnick.

He'd been watching her the entire time. He saw how much it meant to her that these people were willing to fight for her—that they believed her.

He hoped she could see in his eyes what he could not say. Hoped she saw the love he felt for her when he said, "I'll hold the bastard down myself while you do it."

Just the notion that he'd be by her side when she did it... even if he didn't make it, it was more than enough.

Finally Haymitch nodded, "I'll warn Katniss to stay away. Peeta won't be an issue."

She was truly speechless as she looked around the room and they all knew it. She placed her hand over her heart and nodded at them, with them and finally cleared the lump in her throat to say, "Thank you. Truly."

They all saw how genuine her words were, all nodded in response.

"Okay." Haymitch hummed as the moment passed, "I don't know what the arena is going to be like. All Plutarch said was that it was smaller than usual and rainforest based. Expect lots of water, thick dense trees and a lot of humidity."

Aella couldn't help the groan that slipped through her lips. Her disdain was as evident on everyone else's. She'd already been forced to endure a scorching hot desert and now she had a humid rainforest to contest with.

"The arena will be smaller...much smaller," He warned, "They're planning on these Games being quick. It's all strategy. Once you're inside we'll try to keep you as informed as we can with the progress going on outside. We'll send packages with clues but only at times when you actually need them. We won't send anything unnecessary incase it raises suspicion."

Everyone nodded, everything Haymitch said made sense to them. It was smart to play it as safe as they could even if the thought of sitting around and waiting made them all anxious. They'd basically just be fighting to stay alive long enough to see their rescue.

"On the second morning make your way to the Cornucopia," Haymitch told them, "Make it believable when you 'decide' to ally," He said, enforcing air quotes over the word 'decide'.

Johanna crossed her arms over her chest and rose her brow, "Believable?"

He nodded, "Try to kill one another, have some fun. Be creative." He said casually, "Eventually come to an understanding. That you will work together to take out the Careers for instance."

Aella pursed her lips and dared to ask the question everyone was wondering but wouldn't mention, "And what if they're dead?"

Haymitch shrugged his shoulders and it wasn't reassuring to see, "Use your imagination. You're all fantastic actors."

She scoffed under her breath and snatched the whiskey back up off the table, taking one long gulp. The room had started to spin.

"Great." Finnick muttered under his breath.

Haymitch grinned at him before he finished his drink and leaned forward to place the empty glass on the table. He stayed there, resting his forearms on the wood and engaged with them deeply, "Now this is where it get's important, so I suggest you all listen in,"

Aella did what he said, focusing on every word he spoke. It was the only instruction they would receive before they were forced into the arena together and it was all massively helpful. It calmed her nerves slightly knowing that they would have the upper hand, that she only had to stay alive for a certain amount of days. It was child's play, really, she tried to tell herself but she couldn't convince herself of it.

She had no idea what would be thrown at them when the Games began. She had no idea that they had been designed to be the most torturous Games yet—the hardest ever known. She didn't know it would take everything she knew and had and then more to survive.

She thought she was prepared when in reality she was very far from it...

•  •  •

A/N; Next update is Friday!