Chapter 3.3

AN: Sorry for the wait – finally understand why people do flash backs, writing in the 'past perfect' is not fun. Anyway hope you enjoy!!!!

The week of training had raced by. Each tribute feeling time, so unexpectedly precious, running frantically towards the doom that awaited them. Yet Finnick felt each second had dragged by, each grasping at him, with nails painfully raking over him in a hopeless attempt to hold on to him and keep him safe.

They all knew the risk they took with their whisperings, yet with every step it became more and more apparent how precariously the scales balanced in their favour, and with every passing hour the hope that they might live to see the dawn of a new world rapidly dwindled. The weight of failing pressing on them not only in the loss of their own life but condemning others to their life.

Tomorrow they went in to the arena. Tomorrow, for better or worse, it was the beginning of the end.

Finnick had managed to get hold of the interview of Katniss in the previous games. He imagined everyone there when Haymicth let slip on that little tit bit did.

The back drop for the interview was like everything else in 12, dark, dreary and coved in dusty ash. Katniss was wearing the same blue dress she wore to the reaping and her eyes shone with the raging intensity they did then.

The interviewer's gaudy outfit and unnatural skin and hair tone were a surreal splash of colour in the bleak landscape. Their high pitched Capitol accent also stuck a discordant note.

"In his interviews Peeta Mallark, this years male tribute from District 12, claimed he would win this years hunger games for you, are you confident in him winning?"

Katniss managed to appear both extremely uncomfortable and like a coiled snake ready to strike - furious that they would dare to spoil her peace.

Finnick had been prepared to bet that the reporter was about to get the same treatment he did, when Katniss glanced off camera. She seemed to take a deep fortifying breath, before her whole demeanour softened.

If Finnick had been attracted to the fiery goodness before, he was humbled and completely overwhelmed by the gentle caring glow that surrounded her in that moment.

"Yes" was the only response given. It would seem her change in demeanour had not made her any more verbose.

The interviewer was visibly upset with the lack of response, especially since by that point in the games the boy had injured his leg, was pretending to be a rock and was about as interesting as a slug. Really the only thing that could make him interesting to the Capitol would be the exquisite emotions of pain they could wring from a love-stuck couple being parted for ever.

"What about the severe leg injury he is suffering, surely that has ruined his chances?"

"Peeta is strong and proven himself to be cunning. He can still win"

Whether it was some desperate belief or an amazing ability to lie, Katniss managed to deliver the short line with complete conviction. The interviewer started to show their frustration, for not only had he been assigned to district 12, but the savage citizens weren't even working with him to create good footage. He practically growled out his last attempt to engage what the Capitol wished was grief stricken girl, emotionally unstable at seeing her beau fatally injured.

"What will you do if he doesn't get his miracle and make it through the games?"

The unrestrained burning fury that Katniss had managed to tame near the start of the interview flared and molten silver eyes glared with rage, before she turned to the camera with a sickly sweet smile.

"Peeta won't die while the wonderful citizens of the Capitol sponsor him. With their magnanimous support, I know the odds will be in his favour"

Finnick had been amazed that Katniss had managed to speak with so much sarcasm that the sentence had come out sincere.

That was it in terms of previous footage on Katniss. Three short measly questions. The rest of the interviews were with Peeta's close friends, who were equal parts proud he had made it so far and sad that his ultimate demise was so near, and a bizarre one with his mother, who seemed to fully support the male tribute from two over her own son.

The Capitol had certainly had the sense to not attempt interviewing Katniss again and give a platform to the righteous indignation she was likely to show, instead of the crushed broken soul it wanted.

The interview honestly didn't reveal much, probably why Haymitch let it slip. Finnick had watched it several times now, and all he could divine from it was the she had clearly always been a fighter, a survivor.

It was actually a gem of an interview with a girl named Deli Cartwright that was most revealing. The bubbly blonde, while sniffly with red rimmed eyes, was happy to ramble on whatever topic the Capitolite introduced. Fortunately for Finnick the interviewer remembered his fiery girl.

"Were you jealous when Peeta declared his love for a girl other than his best friend?"

"oh no .. (sniffle) .. Peeta's always been smitten with Katniss, ever since he was five and heard her sing at the school assembly he has declared himself in love. .. (sniffle) .. I think his heart broke the day her father died in that mine explosion and she stopped singing. .. (sniffle) .. of course Katniss has always been the most beautiful in our year, in that untouchable sort of way you know, a lot of boys notice that, always made Peeta quite mad, not that Katniss has ever noticed any of them .. (sniffle) .. well other than that …

"Yes, yes … but tell me how many more days do you think Peeta will live?"

The interview had continued with more unattractive sniffling and useless information, not that Finnick cared.

Now Finnick could say with confidence that Katniss was not in love with the Peeta guy though she clearly cared enough to do the interview for him, there might be some other guy she does love, and she sings.

Finnick wasn't surprised to find that he did not feel a jot of jealously towards this other possible suitor. After all he could hardly claim he loved her, when it has only been a week since he had learned of her existence and knows not that much more about her than what he was able to gleam from some old videos.

It was not quite lust either that defined Finnick's attraction to his fire goddess, he wasn't blind to her beauty, but he had been with the most beautiful women that existed. There was something more that drew him in, an indomitable hope that seemed flicker around her - a burning desire to survive.

It was clear to most that she had a tough life, and yet through it all she had somehow maintain some sort of innocence that shone round her. That's what lured Finnick to her: a need to possess her; protect her; lean on her when his own ability to hope died entirely. So he could hardly envy another bloke who thought to do the same.

During training, any attempt he had made at reaching out to her, from offering to teach her some complicated knots to offering being allies during the games and every offer in between, including another attempt or two at sharing his much beloved sugar cubes, was promptly rebuffed. Not by any word or even look a look his direction, but by simply moving away, any time he got too close.

The first day he had been fairly prompt to join her at the knotting station she had headed to after the official speech from the Capitol. He had learned enough from the Haymitch and Capitol footage to give her space, as he had eased into position against the station, his entire body turned to face her, happily ignoring the trainer.

It was only after several opening statements, questions, and obvious attempts to start a conversation, had been completely ignored by her, if not the trainer, who kept glancing at him as he was teaching and had once even opened his mouth to address him, only to be silenced by a glare from both himself and Katniss, that he had moved a hand into her personal space. As it happened the glare at the trainer was the closest he would get to acknowledgement in their brief second encounter together.

For the second his fingers entered her line of vision, she simply turned and marched away to the next station over. The ropes she had been working with dropped, and the instruction from the trainer ignored as much as him.

Still, no one would claim Finnick was a quitter. So with a huff he had pushed himself of the knotting station and followed her doggedly to the next, the camouflage station. He had positioned him self closer this time, offered different salutations and possible topics of conversation (let it not be said the Finnick was a dull and repetative conversationalist, no he was universally charming) and when once again bored of her indifference, he had moved quickly to imprison her with his arms against the station. Yet before he could move in and position his mouth against her ear, she had dropped to the ground, ducked under his arms and was storming away to another station.

Finnick hadn't been able to stop his jaw from dropping as his neck snapped round to follow her departure. It was sniggers from fellow Victors that pulled him from his trance and with gritted teeth stalked after her.

She had made her way across to the survival station and was crouched down to start a fire, the trainer had started to make his way towards her, and Finnick had picked up his step to make it there first. Making little effort to respect personal spaces, he had all but thrown himself at her, with an arm out to drape across her shoulder, only to find his arm encircling thin air, while his other arm rushed to find his balance before he went splat head first into the fire pit. Somehow she had managed a perfectly timed backward roll of sorts to evade him, and once again he was staring at her retreating form.

He couldn't help the joyous smile that had crossed his face, as he had found in that moment he rather liked their game of cat and mouse and had started to enjoy the challenge. So he gracefully sprung to his feet and leapt after his quarry.

This time she had chosen the technology station, and was looking at some night vision goggles. Finnick had decided to trap her against the station while positioning his legs in a way that prevented her from ducking out. It had seemed like an excellent plan, as he had after all seen how she escaped the first time and now had a pre-prepared plan to head it off.

For a sweet second he had even thought his plan had worked, as she had pressed her back to his front, only to find that the movement had been to allow her to jump onto the display table. Even as he had reached out to catch her leg, she had nimbly hopped over the various pieces of technology and out of his grasp, eventually jumping down to sweep past the astonished trainer.

Finnick had laughed then, and with a mirth he hadn't felt in who knew how long, had jumped on the the table to follow after her.

The useful items station had been her next stop, which had brought Finnick up short. Having been a mentor he also new the other nickname this station had, the pathetic station, the tributes who stopped at this station were ensured bloodbaths - as the stations aim was to help point out the various uses of objects that may be, but most likely won't be, available in the arena, it was a station for the hopeless.

Seeing his fire girl there had hit home the dire circumstances of their situation, circumstances he had almost put out of mind as he had focussed on the chase. As such it had been a much more sombre Finnick who approached the training station: he didn't want his fire girl to be a bloodbath, besides it had seemed like a change of tactic was required anyway.

Settling down at a reasonable distance from his fire girl, Finnick had decided to simply act as trainer as the official one had yet to arrive, and began an improvised lecture on the various items on display with his most charming grin firmly in place. Not that the magnificent smile, that many had paid a high price to be the recipient of was appreciated, as Katniss seemed just as determined as ever to ignore his presence.

Yet despite that determination, he had been rather delighted to note when he mentioned an item she was obviously examining, she was quick to drop it and move on to another with a huff. He was gratified to see their cat and mouse game continue. Eventually, she turned slightly toward him and defiantly continued to study a water container even after he had mentioned. Finnick had done little to stop the thrilled grin that spread across his face and had simply taken that as an invitation to move closer.

Of course, that had sent her scurrying off. But this time he had been ready and instead of waiting for her to reach he next station, had quickly hurried after her so he could fall in step and casually throw an arm over her shoulder as he continued making up shit about water containers. Or so he had thought he had been ready, as it turned out she was still one step ahead of him, ducking under his arm and doubling back on herself before he could get a firm grasp on her shoulders.

Finnick had huffed in exasperation, before snorting with laughter as he turned on his heal to continue the chase.

He had been curious, as he had watched her simply pick up a book from the edible plant station and continue on. He had been confused when she had stopped at a pillar that held up one of the various beams that provides the lighting for the training center. He had been amazed when she had proceeded to shimmy up said pillar, before lying down on top of the beam and begin to read her book. It had pulled a fully belly laugh from him, before he had gone over to the same pillar to continue his pursuit.

It was on reaching the pillar that Finnick had realised he had lost their game, for while the pillars may withstand his fire girls slight frame, it certainly wasn't going to support his. He had looked around for another way up, but she had chosen her spot well, far enough away from the climbigwall and the abseiling station as to make it impossible for him to reach her.

The other victors who had been watching the chase were all staring to see what he would do next, so he had given a nonchalant shrug and made his way over to where several shiny tridents hung. She will have to come down for lunch he had thought.

Except when the lunch bell had tolled and his fire girl's head had poked over the side of the beam, she had simply huffed and returned to reading her book on spotting him waiting at the bottom of the pillar.

Finnick had immediately felt bad that he was denying her a meal that should not be missed, not with what was coming, just because she wished to avoid his company, and had shouted up that he would leave her alone, turning immediately toward the dinning hall to prove the truth of his words.

Yet she had not showed up in the dining hall, nor had she been seen the rest of the training session.

That night he chose not to go to the district seven tribute lounge, he was in no mood for their teasing. Not that he could completely avoid it, Orion and Saphire, the Victors from district four who would be acting as mentors for him and Mags, certainly made sure to take their shots. He had accepted it gracefully before heading to their pool, where he knew he would spend most of the night doing laps.

The rest of the week he would approach her in the morning and after lunch, but when she moved away he let her be – the shame of denying her a meal, still weighting heavily on him. While this seemed to amuse many of his fellow Victors to no end, it had also meant other victors started interacting with her. While waiting for a death sentence, in a room that they all were intimately familiar with, she was quite literally the only new toy they had to distract themselves with.

Some tried to intimidate her, others tried to challenge her, some were friendly, some were cruel: it didn't matter, she treated them all the same, as if they weren't there. She ignored them or dodge round them as if they were not more than a pesky branch in her way. In fact her ability to gracefully dodge objects was probably now considered her greatest skill. Not that it would matter in the arena, others whispered, can't hurt her here, can't kill her with the peacekeepers keeping watch.

It wasn't until the last day in the training centre that her mask of indifference finally broke. Finnick, even when keeping his distance, had never let her out of his sight, watching each victors attempt to engage her, as much as they had watched him - and he felt a small amount of pride at being the only one to chase her up a pillar. So when it happened, he had been witness to it all.

The morning had started out as usual, with his offer of a sugar cube rebuffed, he had gone to his tridents, she to her knotting station and most of the other victors had gone to work their nervous frustrations out with their weapon of choice. When Cato had stormed from the sword station to the lances, while brutally shoving Wiress out of way, no one thought much of it. One or two heads had turned towards Beetee to see if he noticed and in doing so missed the mask of his fire girl break.

Finnick had analysed the moment over and over, and he was still not entirely sure what caused her firey righteous rage to break free. Until that point it was as if her rage had been her shield, wrapped closely around her, keeping her distant from everyone else, letting their words and actions slide passed her, like water on a ducks feathery down. Yet in that moment something cause it to break free, and the glare she sent after Cato left no one in doubt that she had what it took to be a killer.

Finnick had always thought as much, she had the stance of a predator, but that look had confirmed it. Yet it the same moment that she proved herself a potential killer, she also proved herself to be compassionate and selfless. For the second after her eyes had sent death towards Cato's retreating back, they had sent a warm encompassing kindness towards Wiress crumpled form on the floor. He had seen a hint of that look near the beginning the Capitol footage of her, but seeing in person was something else.

There was no pity in her gaze either. People often looked at Wiress with pity, even Beetee couldn't help cast a sad resigned look in her direction every now and then. Finnick knew it wasn't because the games broke her, but because she had been broken before she went in. Before the games everyone just thought she was stupid, perhaps even a bit mad, the games had proved she was brilliant, she just didn't know how to communicate it. Now she was just mostly ignored, an unpopular victor that no one really bothered to think of, and the few times Finnick did bother to spare her a thought, it was only to think it must be lonely when no one understands you.

Of course Katniss wouldn't know this, but it only took a few words from Wiress to know something wasn't right, even if you didn't know the cause. Yet his fire girl's gaze never once wavered towards pity as she knelt by Wiress' side and listen to her words. No they simply shone with fierce protectiveness, as they had when she volunteered.

Finnick had watched as his fire girl had listen to Wiress, listen and actually pause to consider the words before she murmured a reply. Whatever was said was enough to let her gently lead Wiress back to her knotting station, which was a miracle in its self, as from what little he knew of Wiress it was that she didn't easily follow anyone willingly.

Finnick was certain that only he and Beetee, had seen the whole encounter, but slowly the other Victors caught on and soon most had eyes on the knotting station. They had all watched as Katniss and Wiress tied knots together: Katniss as quiet as ever, but always considering any words Wiress thought to share and occasionally offering a few quiet words of her own.

As the lunch bell had tolled, they had all watched in anticipation to see what would happen next. Finnick knew he had been surprised to see Katniss accept Wiress' hand and let her lead her to the dining hall. His hope had flared: this could be his chance to win her trust. But just as quickly his hope had been shot down by a warning glance from Beetee.

Finnick knew he wasn't the only one who hoped she could be kept alive long enough for the rescue, or at least in an alliance that could keep her from going on a killing spree - as such actions on her part certainly wouldn't help them. Not that Finnick thought she was the type, but with everyone being stuck in the Capitol and under constant surveillance, there was little to be said on the matter. Whether Beetee was of the keep her out of the way camp or the lets try and save her camp, or somewhere in the middle, what his glance had communicated was clear - 'keep out the way, you've already burnt too many bridges'.

Finnick knew on some level Beetee had been right in his assesment, hell he had witnessed how close his fire girl had been to leaving when Beetee had joined their table, and he knew Wiress' gentle hand on her arm would not have been enough to keep her seated had it been him.

Still it rankled him that he was not the victor to win her over. He had been the first to approach her, he had been the most constant in his attentions to her, he was the one who truly saw her, he should be the one to win her trust. What frustrated him more was Beetee was not particularly forthcoming in sharing any of what had been discussed with his fire girl.

As to the results last night, his fire girl had been the only score that was of any interest to anyone, and hadn't it surprised them all. The rest of the scores had read so predictably it was a dull affair, with everyone, but a few of the less well known Victor's who had lost themselves to morphling, scoring between 9 and 10, and even then no one had scored below a 7. Then there was Katniss' score : 11. Finnick could not remember anyone scoring an 11 before. Even with all the current tributes being previous victors, not one of them had managed to score an 11. The whole thing screamed of a Capitol set-up, so much so, that probably only Cato wondered what skill she could have that would outscored him: the beast of district 2.

Still it complicated matters.

Now he was sitting here, in front of all of Pamen, watching as each interview passed, waiting for the interview that would set fire to the kindling that would start this revolution. Finnick had tried, but his interview was too early and his Capitol mask too ingrained. With every interview that passed, his fear that all they would have is a pile of dry wood, seemed to solidify.

Only district 12 to go. An innocent oblivious to what is at stake and a drunk who knew as much about being charming as he he did about being sobre. Could they do it? Fear gripped him tighter that hope.

Finnick knew that the rescue would still go ahead, that it was the ultimate key to kickstarting their revolution, but having the flames already stoked before they entered the game would be a great comfort to Finnick. A comfort it seemed more and more likely he was going to have to do without.

Katniss took to the stage. It was clear her stylist had stuck with her flame motif, and who could blame him – it fit her well. Over the last week that they had spent together, she had become synonymous in his mind with her fiery entry.

She stumbled as she made her way to the chair, and Ceasar covered for her with his usual flamboyant bluster. As they took their seats, she seemed shaken, like a an autumn leaf caught in turbulent wind. Finnick wondered where her fire had gone, had it already been lost to the Capitol's gaudy vision.

"Now my dear, it has been a pleasure to have you join us here in the Capitol, have you enjoyed your stay?"

Katniss seemed lost, his fire goddess gone, only at the last minute did she manage to catch herself.

"I liked the lamb stew"

Weak, Finnick thought.

" Yes, we do have the most delightful lamb stew. In fact it is so good, I do believe I have had a few bowls to many! What do you think Pamen, am I getting fat?

Caesar drew the crowds attention, revealing in the catcalls that echoed from the crowd, all pleased to finally have an interview that followed the usual pattern expected of the hunger games.

"Well my dear, we are ever so glad you enjoyed the stew. Now I must mention the results last night, what a score! Not even our seasoned veterans could out do you, that must give you hope in the games ahead."

" I certainly think it proves you shouldn't count me out"

Her fire was returning, Finnick smiled to himself, maybe she could do it.

"Certainly not, my dear, certainly not! Now I don't suppose you could tell us how you got such high score?

Her face paled dramatically, before she finally put together an answer, making Finnick wonder what exactly happened during her time with the judges.

"I'm sorry Ceasar, but a girl's got to have some secrets"

Her fire was fading again, and her voice shook at the delivery of the line. 'Come on' Finnick inwardly cheered 'Come on, firegirl, hold it together'

"And I promise, we all promise, we can keep a secret, can we not?"

He paused for the crowds cheer.

"Won't you tell us?"

A giggle escaped her lips, and her flame flared a little bit brighter.

"I wish I could, Ceasar, but I think I'll leave a surprise for the games"

"And how shall I bear the anticipation, hnmm? Very well, I shall leave you your secrets for now, my dear girl on fire. Now, I can't let you leave with out commenting on that moment when you all captured our hearts, when you bravely volunteered to take the place of you sister. Now tell me did you see her before you left? "

Finnick's hope sored, Ceasar could not have asked a better question to set his fire girl alight, her eyes once more fiercely glowed.

"Yes"

'Come on fire girl, we need more that, bring it home, set us a blaze ' Finnick silently coached from his chair on the sideline.

"And what did she say to you?"

"She asked me to promise I would come home, I told her I would do everything I could to see her again"

"And I am sure you will, my dear. I wish the best of luck ... Katniss Everdeen ... The girl on fire"

Finnick's hope deflated, it was good, but not enough. Finnick swallowed a sigh as he turned back to the stage to watch Haymitch 's attempt, only to see something he didn't expect.

His girl on fire once again on fire, except the fire was turning into smoke and rising. He watched in astonishment, with the rest of Panem, as his girl on fire continued to spin and burn. With the amount of smoke that was being created Finnick was almost certain there had been a malfunction with the costume, but before he could do anything to save her, the last of the dress burnt away, and what it left behind, he could only stare at in awe.

Where once stood a sacrificial victim mockingly trussed up in finery, before being offered to death, now stood a mockjay - symbol of survival against all odds, a soldier ready to fight.

All of a sudden Finnick felt the odds swing in their favour. Strange giddiness floated through him as he watched his fire goddess stalk towards her seat. Maybe they could do this, just maybe they could make it.

"I don't think I'll be making it this time Ceasar"

Haymitch's gruff voice pulling his attention back to the stage. 'Don't you dare mess this up' Finnick's thoughts silently pleaded.

'Surely you can't be giving up yet Haymitch, of all the victors you are the only one to survive a quarter quell before, surely this weights the odds in your favour?'

Caesar's overly wide grin inviting the audience to cheer at his words, his arms encouraging the enthusiasm shown for the old Victor, while his giddy laugh had them quieting again, announcing they had done their part. Finnick couldn't help think that Ceasar truly was a master of ceremonies that had finely honed his art. While the rest of his brain screamed at Haymitch's to keep to the script, point out the injustices of the system, as they all had, add his voice, his weight, to their argument and then go stand beside his mockingjay. 'Just don't screw it up ' his mind chanted.

Haymitch's just leaned back in his seat and waited for the crowd to quiet, when he was certain he had their attention, and Ceasar looked like he was about to speak just to fill the silence, Haymitch smiled and turned to him.

"I remember the day I first met Primrose Everdeen well, even though I was drunk as a skunk at the time"

Haymitch's snort at this was copied by a rippling titter through the crowd, though he didn't pause in his speech to acknowledge it, just continuing on with his tale.

"There I was propped up against a fence, sittin' in muck and smellin' more vile than rott'n eggs, and this little nip o' a thing dressed in rags and holdin' a bunch o'snowdrops skips o'er to me, and tells me everyone should have something to smile for, and presents me with a snowdrop, saying 'here, mister, now you have something to smile for.'

A whole district would ignore me, despise me even, but this little slip of a thing want me to have something to smile for. From that day on she was my little snowdrop, not that she ever knew. There ain't no-one in the district to lowly for her smiles, ain't anyone to high and mighty for them either. She's the gem of district twelve, and wherever my little snowdrop went her big sister followed with a gay song on her lips and a shy smile as she shuffled her sister along, so I named her sweetheart.

Never did nothing for my little snowdrop when their father died, though I thought it would crush them, and in someway in did, sweethearts song withered and her sweet smile ain't ever been seen again, but she protect my little snowdrop, kept her kind smile pure, and for that she has my respect."

Haymitch's voice trailed of, and his gaze seemed vacant as if he'd forgotten in his reminiscing exactly where he was, Ceasar was only to happy to jump in.

"Aaah, so you plan to form an alliance with Miss Katniss Everdeen, our very own girl on fire, so you can re-unite her with your little snowdrop? A noble cause! "

Haymitch's harsh bark of laughter resounded before he bothered to answer.

"Ceasar, I'm an old drunk, and I lost sweetheart respect long ago, she'd sooner stab me in the back than form an alliance with me. No she'll do what she can, and I wish her well"

Haymitch's sat back with a shit eating grin on his face, forcing Ceased to ask the question on everyone's lips.

"So you're fighting for ...?"

Haymitch's grin doubled in size.

" That's just it Ceasar, I ain't fighting to be Victor, don't want to live in a world where snowdrops can't thrive"

Before Ceasar could answer, Haymitch's got to his feet forcing Ceasar to follow suit as he stuck his hand out for Ceasar to shake.

"Well it's been nice knowing you old friend"

With a hard hand clapped to the back of a very shocked Ceasar, Haymitch's made his way over to the rest of the Victor smugness radiating from his very being.

Finnick had forgotten just how cunning Haymitch is, forgotten how he had won his games, forgotten that he had been a rebel for so long it was the essence that defined him: everyone so convinced by the drunken fool act that it seemed absurd to think he was smart. Yet he had just now outwitted them all.

'ain't fighting to be a victor'

The statement rolled round Finnick's head, impressing him with it brilliance. They had all tried to slyly speak of rebellion, while still toeing the capital line – his own speech attempting to appeal to the discontented capitolites rather than the districts – but even then his references had been obscured by his fear of pushing forward to fast and his words fell short. All of their words fell short, until Haymitch triumphed, proving himself the most cunning of them all.

As Katniss' stunt had imprinted an unforgettable image in every mind that screamed we must first burn if we are to survive: and swelled Finnick's heart with a pride he had not yet felt at being a soldier in this rebellion. Haymitch stated loud and clear why they must burn, why they must rebel: for the simple reason it is a fight, a cause worthy of sacrifice.

They had done it – and the surprise and joy that Finnick felt at that thought was marred only by Haymitch's smug face. Even then, the knowledge of how insufferable the man would be could not truly diminish Finnick's spirit.

Yet there was little time to think on it.

Haymitch reached his seat, and in what had to be a pre-arranged move with Chaff, each moved to grab hands of the Victor's closest to them and raise them above there heads in Victory. Every Victor quick to join their stunt. The crowd cheered loudly, though for what Finnick could barely guess.

The lights went out above them and still the crowds cheered. This was it.

Tomorrow they went into the arena. Tomorrow, for better or for worse, it was the beginning of the end.

AN: Thank you all for reading – back to Katniss' POV next time. Also thank you for all the reviews and suggestions. Have a HP fanfiction I am putting up, so please check it out if you follow that fandom, Ta!!!!