CHAPTER 13
LOYALTY

SHE couldn't stop herself from getting up at the crack of dawn. It was like a switch had turned on her head and suddenly, Bex was on her feet, ready to start the day. The birds were chirping as she pulled on a fresh pair of leggings, a long-sleeve tee, and her special leather boots. As she finished tugging back her hair into a ponytail, Bex looked over her shoulder to see that Finnick hadn't stirred at all while she was changing. He was still snoring away, face pressed into the pillow.

She could feel his hand on her cheek all over again. The soft caress of his thumb. The way his breath fanned her face and a fire ignited in her stomach at just the thought of it.

Promise me you'll never allow Snow to rob you from love again.

Bex rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and shut the door, allowing the memory to fade into the back of her mind once again.

After having a quick breakfast, Bex retreated outside and watched the clouds begin to gather in the sky. Another spring shower would be on its way soon. It was probably a good thing she got an early start today. She found the large log Keaton had brought in yesterday from the woods. It was waiting in the valley on the side of her estate, right next to the chopping block. Bex got to work, smashing her father's axe into the dense wood. The axe got lodged in the trunk a few times, requiring some heavy pulling on Bex's part, but it took her under an hour to separate the log into to tinier chunks, ready for the chopping block.

Bex wiped away the thick coat of sweat covering her brow, tucking strands of flyaway hair behind her ear, as she chopped the timber one by one. She never had this much energy in the morning before. It was invigorating. The mockingbirds' song only made her work faster. She threw the chopped wood into Keaton's wheel barrel, and then started another pile for her neighbors.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been out there when Keaton found her, stalking through the tall grass. Her axe went through another piece, splitting it by her feet, as he approached. Keaton waved his arms in the air and won her attention. Bex spun around and squinted as the bright sun invaded her eyes. She covered them with one gloved hand and chuckled in his direction, "Looks like you got up a little late –"

"Bex," he exhaled, standing in front of her with worried eyes, "we have a problem."

She stepped back, confusion rattling her brain. Leaning her axe against the chopping block, Bex crossed her arms. Realization quickly dawned on her. "Why are Phoenix and Iliana here? We'll have to figure a way to get Finnick home if they want me to travel –"

"They're not," Keaton replied gravely. His hands formed into tight fists. "It's the President."

And suddenly, her eyes were growing wide. Bex shoved her brother out of the way and trudged through the grass. Uncontrollable tears welled up in her eyes. She was already sweaty, but this news just made her perspire more. Her breathing was heavy and ragged and brutal. She felt a hand latch around her arm, pulling her back to face them.

Snow didn't make house calls unless something was wrong. He'd never once been to her house. This was bad. This was so bad –

Finnick. Finnick was inside. What would the President do if he saw him?

Bex whirled towards her brother and grabbed his other arm. "Snow can't see Finnick. If he finds us together, he'll kill someone. He'll take someone. Oh, my gods, Keaton, I'm gonna be sick –"

Keaton placed his hands on her cheeks. "Breathe, sis. Breathe." She did her best to follow his orders, but her nose was running and the tears wouldn't stop. He brushed them away. "I saw his entourage pull up. I had enough time to lock Finnick in your room. He's still sleeping."

Bex nodded quickly. "Okay, um – okay."

She was off again, sprinting towards her house. Bex spotted Nico and Johanna sitting on their front stoops, watching attentively as the chaos unfolded. Keaton wasn't that far behind as she jumped up the stairs to the front door, but the guard waiting outside forcefully shoved her brother aside. She turned to see him on the front lawn, arguing with the guard as he said, "No one else is allowed inside." A second later, the door was shut in her face and she could only hear her own breathing.

Fear crept up her throat. She had never been so terrified to be in her own house. Bex carefully took a step forward, studying the collection of guards spread throughout the bottom floor of her house. Her eyes flickered to the stairs, and then she quickly looked away. The scent of roses led her to the dining room, where the President sat at the head of the table, waiting for her with a small cup of tea.

He was using her mother's china set. Her hands clenched and she debated on showing him all she learned in that arena eight years ago.

"Good morning, my dear," he smiled sinisterly, gesturing to the chair on his left. "Please, sit."

"I think I'd rather stand."

"Sit," he ordered before his tone changed, "please."

Bex looked over her shoulder to see the guard standing in the threshold of where she entered. Her only escape route vanished. She turned back to the President and gave him a tight smile. Rubbing away the sweat still coating her neck, Bex walked over to the chair and slid into it. She fixed the hair covering her eyes and inhaled the steaming cup of tea – cinnamon spice.

"What do I owe the honor, President Snow?" She asked politely, though her teeth were clenched.

"Well, for one, I thought I might finally see the Victors' Village in Seven. It's been a while since I visited this District, so I'm glad I popped in." He brought the cup to his lips and sipped. "Gods, it feels like we've seen each other so much, hasn't it?"

Bex's brow shot up when he wasn't looking. "Considering I spoke to you pretty recently, I'd say yes."

Snow released a chuckle, but anyone could tell it was fake. Bex tried to keep her breathing even as he beheld her with those beady eyes. "It's only because I value you so much, Miss Nassar. More than you may know. I trust you," he spoke evenly, "and trust is a very hard thing to come by."

She didn't answer, only kept her hands laced together on top of the table. Her father used to sit where he was sitting right now. It was taking everything in her to not grab that hot tea and splash it in his face, to pummel his head into the ground.

But her parents wouldn't have wanted that. So she continued that cheeky smile.

"And because I trust you, I wanted to discuss some important information that has been brought to my attention." He lifted his chin, watching her intensely. She didn't move. "Have you sensed any tension in your District? Any secret talks of a revolution?"

Bex stiffened. She could only shake her head.

The guards around the room scrutinized her.

"I've noticed it. In fact, I found it very hard not to. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's Victory Tour was a disaster and has resulted in some very ugly circumstances. Districts are rising up, talking of rebelling against the Capitol, and I fear it might be sooner than we think."

Bex remembered the mockingjay pin on Mrs. Yance's shirt. She remembered the way it shined in the golden sun, the way it flashed against the light. The Peacekeepers enveloping the market. And then, Mrs. Yance was staring at Bex, fixated on her presence, as if she could see into her soul.

"You're shivering, dear."

Bex swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around her. The sweat on her neck traveled down her spine. "Well, this isn't exactly the most comfortable of subjects –"

"Why?" His voice cut through every bone in her body. He was leaning in, analyzing her every move. "Why is it uncomfortable?"

She felt something click in her head. All of a sudden, her mask was sliding off and she couldn't stop it. Her frown was revealed; her brows crossed. "Better question," Bex replied, a snarl threatening to release, "why are you here, President Snow?"

"Alright, I'll get to the point then." He took another heaping sip of tea. "I need to know from you, my Flower Girl, what the future holds for us. If it comes down to a revolution, would you be loyal to the Capitol – the people who have given you so much – or your own District?"

Her heartbeat quickened. How could he possibly ask that of her? He knew the answer he wanted to hear, and he knew she would say it. I would align myself with the Capitol, she'd say, just to save her family, District, Johanna, Nico, even Finnick. The thought of an uprising was a dream, but at what cost? The fact that it was becoming a reality was her very own nightmare.

But at the same time ... she couldn't agree to his terms. Bex was exhausted. She was tired of agreeing and playing nice and hiding the cold-blooded killer he made her into. She wasn't being taken advantage of anymore. Enough was enough.

"The Capitol has taken everything from me," she seethed. "District Seven is all I have left."

Snow arched a brow, almost not believing her. "I have given you wealth and jewels and a monster of a home. I have kept your family safe –"

Bex smacked a hand on the table, leaning into him. The guards drew their weapons, but Snow waved them off. Bex didn't cower and searched his eyes. "You took my parents," she whispered viciously. "I have not seen them for eight years. The Capitol takes and takes. You wonder why people have started riots, President Snow? The answer has been in front of you all along."

"You have a debt to pay me and the Capitol. Part of that agreement is loyalty, and if you don't choose us when it comes down to it ... I hope you hug your brother tight every night."

She settled back in her chair. Panic washed over her face. "Stop that. Stop holding his life over my –"

"Let me paint you a picture of what an uprising looks like," he interrupted, finishing the last of his tea. "Thousands upon thousands of your people dead. This town reduced to ashes. Imagine it gone. Made radioactive. Buried under dirt, as if it had never existed like District Thirteen."

She remembered hearing the stories of District Thirteen in school, but it never seemed real enough to believe. A District reduced to nothing. Absolutely nothing. They were taught as children that those people paid the price, but Thirteen's legacy would soon be their existence.

Snow laid a wrinkly hand on hers, and Bex was too scared to move it. "You fought very hard in the 67th Games, Miss Nassar. But they were just that: Games. Would you like to be in a real war?"

Bex didn't answer. She continued to stare at him, her eyes glazed over.

The President tapped her hand twice and finally removed his own. He cleared his throat, a signal for his guards to leave, and pushed his chair out. Looking down at her, Snow said, "Choose wisely."

He crossed the dining room, heading for the hall that led to the front door, when Bex found her mouth opening. Her voice was trembling as she asked, "When does the debt end, President Snow? When will I reach the limit?"

Snow turned, his mouth curling slightly. "You don't. The debt is your life. Your price for survival."

Her head was spinning. She looked down at her hands, imagining ash running through them. The ashes of her District, the people she'd grown up with. Tears slid down her cheeks as they filed out of her home and the front door clicked shut. She didn't want the burden of knowing that thousands of people perished for an uprising she supported. She'd rather die than having that hang over her head. However, this wasn't something she could ignore anymore. The end was coming.

She didn't want to be in a real war. But a spark was running within the Districts, and it would soon ignite a fire. The kind of fire that couldn't be contained.

Finnick.

Bex stood and sprinted for the stairs. Keaton rushed through the front door and locked it, spotting his sister on the fourth step. He called her name, but she ignored it and continued to run, practically shoving her body against her bedroom door. She fumbled with the lock, but the door eventually swung open.

And there was Finnick, still sleeping peacefully in her bed.

She released a breath of relief and closed the door softly behind her. Bex rubbed at her nose. The tears on her cheeks were drying. She paced around her room until her feet were numb, until her whole body was numb. It had been that way for a long time, but this was different. A different kind of numb, one that couldn't be shaken off by walking around for a few minutes.

Thousands upon thousands of your people dead.

Would you like to be in a real war?

Your price for survival.

Bex stuck her fingers in her ears, anything to drown out his voice in her head. Fresh tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not anymore, not for him.

Her bed creaked.

She swung her head around, freezing in place as Finnick stirred, sitting up against the pillows. Rubbing at his eyes, he asked groggily, "Damn, how long have I been out?"

"It's ten AM," she said, looking to her clock. Bex didn't expect her voice to sound so hoarse, and even with sleep still tugging at his eyes, Finnick noticed it. His sea-green stare flickered to hers.

"What's wrong?" He asked, one brow arched.

Bex wiped away the new tears and rubbed at her runny nose. She hated crying – absolutely despised it. Crying was a sign of weakness and she was not weak. But after keeping everything bottled inside for what seemed like a millennium, she needed a release. And sometimes, it would just come out, without any warning. She liked to cry in private. It was better that way. She felt herself cowering away as Finnick stared at the streaks of tears on her face.

She looked to the Victor crown that still sat idly on the windowsill at the other end of her room. She wanted to break it, split it in two with her axe.

"I was just visited by President Snow."

The words came tumbling out before she could stop them. Finnick's stare was locked with hers for a long time, so long that she wondered if he even heard her.

He finally replied, "While I was asleep? The whole time?"

She nodded. "My brother locked you in here. So he wouldn't find you."

Finnick slid to the edge of the bed in front of her, running a hand through his messy hair. "What did he want?"

"A promise of loyalty," she whispered, looking off into the window above her bed. After a beat of silence, she shook her head. "The Districts are actually rising up against the Capitol, and Snow's clearly threatened if he's doing house calls now."

They were both quiet. Finnick didn't take his eyes off her, while she simply swam in his sea-green irises. She thought about plunging herself into them, as if his stare was really made of the ocean itself. She swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"He threatened to take my brother, too, if I don't stay loyal to the Capitol." Her jaw clenched. "He's not taking my brother. I won't let him –"

"I know, I know."

Finnick got to his feet, and after a moment of hesitation, he walked over and hugged her tightly, like Keaton did. But this felt different – different in the way that her heart was thrumming against her ribcage and her palms were getting sweaty. Bex rested her head on Finnick shoulders, and it took almost a full minute for her to finally wrap her arms around his torso, fingertips brushing over his shoulder blades.

She breathed in his scent again, and the image of saltwater was the only thing that made her tears fade.

━━━━━━

A/N: okay I knoooooow this chapter is kind of depressing, but it was actually one of my faves to write 🤭 tbh one of my favorite scenes from the catching fire movie is when snow visits katniss at the start of the movie. the line where he says, "would you like to be in a real war?" is just SO GOOD when you think of the implicationsssss. (and obviously, I did use some lines in this chapter from that scene in the movie. just wanted to make that clear!)