sonata undine
Finnick. OFC.
620 words. Set pre-series, during Finnick's Games.
Summary: Finnick killed the other tribute from Four.
Originally posted here.
Finnick killed the other tribute from Four. Her name is Ondine and she's sixteen years old. Her name was Ondine. It was an accident, honestly. It was an accident; he hadn't meant to kill her, not then anyway, and maybe not ever if only someone else could get to her first. Finnick didn't have a death wish, he was hardwired for survival, but he didn't want to be the one to do it. He didn't think he would be.
Her name was Ondine and she was sixteen years old. Finnick knew her his entire life. They would train together sometimes; all the Careers would train together sometimes. Ondine was a volunteer. A twelve-year-old girl had been repeated, a sweet-faced little girl whose name Finnick doesn't remember because during the entirety of the reaping ceremony he'd heard a rushing in his ears like the sound of the ocean. Ondine was prepared for this to be her year. She was poised. And then Finnick was chosen and the bated breath of the entire country of Panem marked her as a goner.
It happened in the mess of the first twenty minutes, the bloodbath at the Cornucopia that happened every year. It was an accident. Finnick was sharp-eyed, scanning for usable materials, and he sensed someone behind him. Without thinking twice he turned and slashed with the small knife in his hand, caught her right across the throat. Ondine was surprised and Finnick was surprised, realizing she was probably coming to team up like they'd planned, like the Career pack always did until low numbers split them apart. She was coming to be his ally and Finnick cut her throat.
He reached out and puts his hands on the seeping wound as though that would keep the blood in, as though that would save her. He clasped the wound with both hands but her blood bubbled through his fingers, violently red. It spilled out of her mouth. She was already gone. When she fell to the ground Finnick caught her, a futile gesture, sinking to the ground with her body in his arms. He trained for this, prepared for this, lived all his life up until now for the Games but he never expected his first kill to be Ondine. Ondine who was always kind to the younger kids in Four and had a laugh like foam on a wave. For the opening ceremony they'd dyed Ondine's ice-blonde hair blue and it was still dyed, cascading over his arm, pale summer sky blue deepening to sapphire at the ends. She was a mermaid for the opening ceremony. She had been covered in jewels, all of her blue like sparkling water to Finnick's gold like glittering sands. She did not look like herself then and she didn't look like herself dead in Finnick's arms, not with that alien blue hair.
Ondine's blood was the first to stain his hands. Ondine's, of all people. It might as well have been his blood, Four's blood, fish blood, blood with saltwater in it.
The moment of her death lasted an eternity when it happened and remained especially prolonged in his memory. Later, during the replay, after it was all over, he saw it was a matter of seconds. The knife didn't leave his grip the entire time and in seconds he was up again, ready. He killed two more that day. Finnick sat beside Caesar Flickerman and saw the tears on his own face blown up to astronomical size on the giant screen but he didn't remember crying.
Finnick received his very first parachute on the very first day, sponsors so charmed by his shock and regret. People are so charmed by Finnick. They are so sympathetic.
Finnick. OFC.
620 words. Set pre-series, during Finnick's Games.
Summary: Finnick killed the other tribute from Four.
Originally posted here.
Finnick killed the other tribute from Four. Her name is Ondine and she's sixteen years old. Her name was Ondine. It was an accident, honestly. It was an accident; he hadn't meant to kill her, not then anyway, and maybe not ever if only someone else could get to her first. Finnick didn't have a death wish, he was hardwired for survival, but he didn't want to be the one to do it. He didn't think he would be.
Her name was Ondine and she was sixteen years old. Finnick knew her his entire life. They would train together sometimes; all the Careers would train together sometimes. Ondine was a volunteer. A twelve-year-old girl had been repeated, a sweet-faced little girl whose name Finnick doesn't remember because during the entirety of the reaping ceremony he'd heard a rushing in his ears like the sound of the ocean. Ondine was prepared for this to be her year. She was poised. And then Finnick was chosen and the bated breath of the entire country of Panem marked her as a goner.
It happened in the mess of the first twenty minutes, the bloodbath at the Cornucopia that happened every year. It was an accident. Finnick was sharp-eyed, scanning for usable materials, and he sensed someone behind him. Without thinking twice he turned and slashed with the small knife in his hand, caught her right across the throat. Ondine was surprised and Finnick was surprised, realizing she was probably coming to team up like they'd planned, like the Career pack always did until low numbers split them apart. She was coming to be his ally and Finnick cut her throat.
He reached out and puts his hands on the seeping wound as though that would keep the blood in, as though that would save her. He clasped the wound with both hands but her blood bubbled through his fingers, violently red. It spilled out of her mouth. She was already gone. When she fell to the ground Finnick caught her, a futile gesture, sinking to the ground with her body in his arms. He trained for this, prepared for this, lived all his life up until now for the Games but he never expected his first kill to be Ondine. Ondine who was always kind to the younger kids in Four and had a laugh like foam on a wave. For the opening ceremony they'd dyed Ondine's ice-blonde hair blue and it was still dyed, cascading over his arm, pale summer sky blue deepening to sapphire at the ends. She was a mermaid for the opening ceremony. She had been covered in jewels, all of her blue like sparkling water to Finnick's gold like glittering sands. She did not look like herself then and she didn't look like herself dead in Finnick's arms, not with that alien blue hair.
Ondine's blood was the first to stain his hands. Ondine's, of all people. It might as well have been his blood, Four's blood, fish blood, blood with saltwater in it.
The moment of her death lasted an eternity when it happened and remained especially prolonged in his memory. Later, during the replay, after it was all over, he saw it was a matter of seconds. The knife didn't leave his grip the entire time and in seconds he was up again, ready. He killed two more that day. Finnick sat beside Caesar Flickerman and saw the tears on his own face blown up to astronomical size on the giant screen but he didn't remember crying.
Finnick received his very first parachute on the very first day, sponsors so charmed by his shock and regret. People are so charmed by Finnick. They are so sympathetic.