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GOLDEN ALLIANCE
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THAT NIGHT, ONTARI heads straight for her bedroom, not bothering to tell her mentors how the opening ceremony went. She's exhausted and isn't in the mood for speaking to anyone.

As soon as she enters her room, she closes the door behind her and leans against it. Her cheeks puff out as she releases a slow breath. Immediately, her posture slumps, calves buckling as they strain to hold her up in her stupid high heels. Ontari yanks them off of her feet and throws them across the room one after the other, feeling a flush of satisfaction after they clang to the shining black floor.

The bedrooms on each floor nod to their respective district's industry. The District Eight one is home to sleek, black floors and grey walls that resemble what is supposed to be a glamorized version of a factory. Patterned covers lay neatly on the beds — each room's is different — and Ontari's is green with small roses stitched into the fabric. She wants to throw herself onto the soft down, but first comes the matter of scrubbing off the layers of makeup covering her skin.

If there's one thing she doesn't mind about the Capitol, it's the bathrooms. Her shower is more complicated than necessary, but the luxury does feel soothing after such a stressful day. The hot water pours down on her like jets as she blindly reaches for the citrus-scented shampoo. Then, remembering she has a specific image to uphold, she presses the button for cherry blossom instead.

Ontari stays in the shower a bit longer than necessary. The high pressure of the water pummels her muscles and turns her skin slightly numb. She looks down, watching the makeup wash down the drain and turning the water dark from the layers of contour that covered her entire body. As the water clears, so does her mind, and she finds herself able to relax after so many hours of pretending.

She feels like regular Ontari again. But the lingering scent of cherry blossoms reminds her that she still has a tight leash clipped on her at all times.

After she climbs out of the shower and uses the drying system, she slips on a pair of black pajamas made of silk. Her hand clenches onto the fabric of her sleeve. Who in her district made these?

Ontari stares at the mirror for a few moments. Her hair has lost its perfect sheen from whatever product her prep team had put in it, the bags under her eyes more prominent now that she doesn't have any concealer to cover them up. She pulls her lips into a line and tears her gaze away.

Opening the bathroom door, she pads into her bedroom and drags her eyes up to the floor. She jumps at the sight of a dark figure sitting on her bed. There aren't any lights on except for the one in the adjacent room behind her, so their face is obscured by shadows.

No weapons are allowed in their bedrooms, so Ontari reaches for the hairbrush she'd just set onto the counter in the bathroom. She launches it in their direction only hard enough for it to hit them. Her heart races, wondering who Snow had managed to sneak into her room this time, until a familiar voice yelps as the object smacks across their face.

Ontari releases a tremendous breath. "What are you doing here?"

"I did tell you I'd talk to you about the Golden Alliance later, didn't I?" Finnick asks in a slightly sour tone, rubbing his sore cheek in the darkness.

Ontari crosses the room and heads toward the entrance, where the system of light switches is placed beside the door. She slaps her hand on the sensor to turn the lights on. Her eyes struggle to adjust, but once they do, she notices Finnick setting her hairbrush on the nightstand beside her bed.

"I didn't expect you to appear in my room," she sighs as she plops onto the mattress beside him. Her eyelids immediately become heavier at the idea of sleep being so close, but she forces herself to stay focused. "Why didn't you turn any of the lights on?"

Finnick deliberately ignores this question and holds out his palm. Two golden objects wink at her in the bright lighting— a pendant and ring, both simple in their design but obviously expensive. Capitol-made treasures.

Ontari narrows her eyes. "What is this?"

"The Golden Alliance," he answers with a pleased grin that shows off his dimples. "The entire Twelve team has these... tokens, if you will. Katniss and Peeta think they're just some mementos to signify their bond, blah, blah, blah. But really, they're more than that."

"Symbols to show an alliance?" she questions. "So Cassian and I wear these, and we become a part of it? There has to be a catch."

Finnick doesn't deny it. He hesitates like he expects she won't like his reply, which makes her heart increase its beating once more.

"Keep Katniss and Peeta alive. At all costs."

At all costs. Ontari drifts her gaze from Finnick, pondering what accepting the tokens would mean. Could she sacrifice Johanna to save two kids she's never met? Cassian? Because there had been certainty in Finnick's voice; he truly means what he says. They'd have to give up everything to protect the star-crossed lovers.

But she also considers what it would mean. Katniss and Peeta surviving the Quarter Quell would fuel them with even more anger, more determination to take down the Capitol. It would mean being one step closer to her family having a better life. And if she has to be a casualty for that to happen, she wouldn't mind it.

Ontari nods, hesitantly at first, then with more vigor. "Okay. Tell me the rest."

-:-

Half of the tributes show up for the first day of training. Ontari feels like this is some sort of joke as she stands among the eleven other victors, tapping her fingers boredly against her biceps. Cassian stands beside her, hands clasped behind his back and head tilted up as if he's heard the trainer's rules a hundred times.

Katniss and Peeta are here, which is pretty much the only reason she came. She's been sparring with Cassian for years and doesn't need more training. But she'd managed to convince her brother to become a part of the Golden Alliance, and so they'll put on a show to attract their attention.

As soon as they're dismissed and training begins, the Nightfall siblings glance at one another and come to a wordless agreement. Ontari uncrosses her arms and walks confidently toward the sparring mats. Usually, tributes aren't allowed to fight each other, but the rules have been tweaked since everyone here is a victor. An assistant stands nearby in case things get too heated.

Ontari recognizes the man who's posted beside the station. His name is Xenon, and his naturally tanned skin stands out against the white shirt he wears. The stubble lining his jaw makes him appear older than he was the last time they saw each other. He's gained more muscle over the years, his arms now huge and appearing even more so when he folds them across his chest. Recognition fills his brown eyes as the siblings approach him.

"Long time no see," he remarks with a sly smirk, examining Ontari from head-to-toe in her designated bodysuit and not bothering to lower his voice.

She ignores him and grabs one of the plastic swords from the box beside his feet. To make the fight fairer, Cassian grabs one as well, and they begin to position themselves on the center mat.

"Oh, come on, Ontari," Xenon drawls, attracting the attention of one of the morphlings from District Six, who quickly looks away. The assistant's perfectly straight teeth flash as he grins. "All that time together and I don't even get a second glance? You know you enjoyed it."

Ontari tosses the sword, sending it spiraling into the air before catching it back in her hand without looking at him. "Don't flatter yourself."

Xenon scowls before clicking the beeper around his neck that signals the start of the match. Ontari immediately charges, raising her weapon and acting as if she's going to bring it down to Cassian's side. He lifts his blade to deflect the blow. But just before she reaches his vicinity, she drops to the floor and kicks out a leg that crashes into his calf. Cassian crumples to the ground and rolls in her direction, forcing her to jump so he doesn't knock her down as well.

Ontari swings her blade down again. This time, her brother effectively blocks the hit with his own sword, his arms straining. His grounded state gives him the disadvantage. Or, at least, it should have, but he twists his arms and expertly drives the point of her sword toward the ground.

She drops the sword before he can use her moment of surprise to stab her. Weaponless and breathing heavily, she backs away toward the edge of the mat. Cassian picks up her discarded blade and twirls both of them around in his hands, showing off more than anything. Ontari rolls her eyes. She'd taught him that.

Cassian whirls toward her with one blade to decapitate her and the other to decapitate her again in case she's foolish enough to duck. But Ontari knows this trick — it had been one of her favorites. She drops to the floor and somersaults past him, popping to her feet as quickly as she can. His momentum nearly carries him over the edge of the mat. With his back exposed, Ontari is able to easily connect her boot to his spine and send him sprawling. He falls with a yelp, landing with his face inches from the hard tile.

Xenon clicks the beeper. Cassian has overstepped the boundaries of the match, meaning Ontari has won.

Sometimes it's not about being stronger than your opponent. You might just have to outsmart them.

Without sparing Xenon a second glance, Ontari reaches down to pick up her brother. His face is flushed with either strain or embarrassment or both, heavy breaths causing both of their chests to heave. Cassian wordlessly tosses both swords back into the bin as their assistant pretends not to be interested.

Ontari tucks a stray strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear as she gazes around the room. The ten other tributes are working at other stations, but all of them were clearly watching them spar. Mags smiles at them from where she stands at the knot station. Finnick gives her a wink. But her attention falls to Katniss, who's at the fire station with Wiress and Beetee. She's clearly impressed and seems angry about it. Peeta is with the morphlings at the painting station. Since they aren't paying him any attention, Ontari decides he's the better option than Katniss. Besides, Beetee knows what he's doing.

She straightens her spine and reminds herself of her duties. Show them you're powerful. Show them that being allies would put them at an advantage.

Judging by what she knows about Katniss, she'll likely choose to be friendly with the more unconventional options. That means she won't give the Nightfalls a second glance unless they give her a reason to.

Ontari crosses the room in the direction of the painting station. She catches sight of Peeta's current project: painting himself to blend into rocks. She recalls how he'd done just that during his Games last year and wonders if he's thinking the same thing.

"You've got a real talent," she comments before stopping about a foot away from him, a small smile tugging up her lips.

Peeta jumps a bit at the sound of her voice. His blond hair is almost the same color as the tokens of the alliance, his eyes as blue as the ocean and widened at the fact she's talking to him. His muscular frame is more clearly pronounced in person. She considers how he could be showing off by throwing spears like Brutus, but instead he's here, practicing his art skills. It's slightly endearing.

"Oh," he says after a moment. Slowly, he blinks like he's expecting her to vanish before his eyes. "Thanks."

"I used to be into art," Ontari says as she trails her fingers over the containers of paint sprawled over the table. "My mother is a seamstress, and I thought I was going to be one, too. She taught me how to embroider designs into fabric. Not quite as messy as paint, though."

She flickers her gaze to the bit of white paint on the tips of his hair. Peeta's cheeks flush and, for a moment, he seems too stunned to say anything back.

"That still takes skill," he eventually responds. "I — uh — I'm sure you would've made a great seamstress."

She wonders if he can detect the sadness lurking behind her eyes. "Thanks."

"Peeta," a familiar voice interrupts from behind. After turning around, she can see that it's Katniss walking toward them with a passive expression that appears forced. "Remember what Haymitch said?"

The Girl on Fire is a pretty good liar, but Ontari has been lying for so long that she's learned how to look for people's tells. Like the way Katniss had swallowed a little too hard after she'd turned around. She just doesn't want to leave Peeta alone with a girl with such a well-known history of taking people to bed.

Ontari smiles benignly. "Don't worry, Katniss. I'm more of a 'one soul at a time' kind of girl."

Her gray eyes widen a fraction as she realizes she's been caught, but the rest of her face remains blank even as Ontari sends her a meaningful look.

The older woman starts to walk back toward the center of the training room. Before she passes Katniss, though, she stops and drops the sultry tone in her voice so it sounds normal again.

"Convince me," she mutters. Katniss immediately tenses, her back stiffening as she turns to look at Ontari. But she keeps her eyes locked forward even as the girl tries in vain to catch her gaze. "You're not the only one."

Ontari's façade flicks back on as soon as she finishes her sentence, leaving a dumbfounded Katniss and confused Peeta behind.

Johanna is talking to Cassian, who is deliberately avoiding looking at her because she's completely naked. Ontari doesn't know what happened to her bodysuit nor does she want to know. From the looks of it, she'd greased herself down for a sparring session.

Ontari approaches them with slight caution. Johanna is very overt and probably doesn't mind her hearing whatever she's saying, but she also fears what it might be. She never gets to find out because Johanna cuts herself off the instant she's within earshot.

"Well, it's about time you acknowledged me," she says sarcastically. "It's not like I've been here the whole time, or anything."

"Aren't you cold?" Ontari questions blankly, raising an eyebrow.

"Actually, I'm quite comfortable," Johanna replies with a smirk as she shifts her weight. Ontari's eyes don't leave her face. Cassian's don't leave the floor. "I really enjoyed your little show. You know, especially the part where Cassian fell face-first to the ground. That was a hoot."

Ontari rolls her eyes with a slight grin as the tips of Cassian's ears turn pink with the reminder. Johanna thrives off of teasing him, but he's clearly not in the mood to snap back.

"I hope you slip and fall," he deadpans.

Maybe she'd been wrong.

Johanna ignores him, still addressing Ontari. "I saw Katniss with Nuts and Volts. Think they did their job?"

"Maybe." The taller girl shrugs. "She seemed to like them, and she probably only left because I was talking to Peeta."

"You were flirting with him," Cassian corrects as he switches his gaze to the ceiling.

"Not intentionally," she fires back. "Besides, he's a kid. It's not my fault I have a reputation to uphold and it involves a certain way of smiling."

Now it's Johanna's turn to roll her eyes at their sibling banter. "I'm tired of this."

She turns and walks away, causing Cassian to puff out his cheeks as he exhales and lowers his gaze back to normal. He seems relieved that she's gone. But Ontari wants to talk to her more about her involvement in the Golden Alliance. Johanna hasn't appeared interested in the new victors whatsoever. Either she's starting to change her mind after seeing them do nothing or she's waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"I'm gonna go throw some knives," Cassian says decidedly before storming off.

Ontari considers her options. She could swordfight again, but she doesn't want to ruin her arm or pull a muscle. Taking it easy for the rest of the day is likely her best bet. Besides, she hasn't greeted Mags yet.

She finds the elderly woman at the fishing station with Finnick. Her silvery hair is nearly turning white now, her naturally hunched back even more bent from working at the table. When Ontari approaches, she receives a toothless smile that warms her heart.

"Hey, Mags," she says with a genuine grin, placing a gentle hand on the older woman's bony shoulder. "Make anything cool?"

That, of course, is a stupid question. Mags is the best crafter of fishhooks she's ever known— even better than Finnick. She steps aside and allows Ontari to view her masterpiece made of copper wire, twine, and a few feathers. It never ceases to amaze her how something so mundane could appear so breathtaking.

"It's beautiful," Ontari tells her, for which Mags gives her another smile and motions for her to start crafting her own. "Oh, no. It's been years, Mags. I forgot everything you told me."

"I'll help you," Finnick offers. He comes up behind her and peers over her shoulder, pointing to a previously bent nail. "That's your hook."

Ontari tries her best to listen to everything he says — she honestly does — but it's almost impossible when they're so close, when she can feel his breath on her neck, when she remembers how he'd touched her hip yesterday. He occasionally takes her hands in his own to guide them. She wonders if, somehow, he knows exactly what he's doing to her, but brushes the thought away. This is all part of their game.

And judging by the slightly disgusted look Xenon gives her, she can tell that it's working.

She swallows thickly as she bends the nail to a curve, finishing the hook. Finnick's lips are so close to her neck that she can feel them brushing her skin as he mumbles, "That's it."

Her heart races, but both of their attention is diverted when Mags points to someone at the archery station.

It's Katniss. That much Ontari can tell right away. The assistant continuously throws fake birds into the air for her to use as target practice, and she hits every one of them. Her movements are precise and almost scarily accurate. She appears to have lost herself in the rush of the hunt, and the assistant soon struggles to keep up with her rapid pace. After she hits five birds at once, she stops, seeming to have noticed that the entire room is silent.

They're not the only ones watching. All of the tributes present stare in awe, envy, or adoration, though she seems uncomfortable under so many eyes.

"We've got a good chance with her," Finnick mutters in her ear. Ontari can't disagree after seeing such a show like that, but they still have a long way to go.

______

i was going to put all of their training into a single chapter, but i realized it'd be extremely long and i didn't want to overwhelm you guys

the next few chapters are going to be more character-driven in the sense that i'll be focusing more on ontari's relationships with other tributes. just out of curiosity, is there anyone you'd like to see her interact with more?

-kristyn