The Princess and The Owl // Johanna Mason x OC

Chapter 2 - I was Never the Most Level-Headed

Being bustled and navigated between throngs of hollering fans and media, she finally makes it to the train: she's homeward bound. The train is quick - only a few hours - and practically throws them out into the swelling party on the platform. Capitol cameras swarm her as she waves at them all impartially.

Parting the crowd, a familiar, hulking 25 year old cleaves through the people with ease. His smile flashes to the camera, then Athena, before embracing her tightly.

"I new you would do it," his typical, potent after-shave makes her stifle a cough, "we're all proud."

Breaking away, he clasps her shoulder and waves back to the camera as he directs her towards the academy. They walk in comfortable silence, before arriving at a set of familiar, large, oak doors. The deep jangle of locks and mechanisms cease before they begin with a floor-juddering clunk. He leads her through the well-walked halls, but takes an unexpected left. She can't be down here without a senior staff member; even her brother barely qualifies.

"Time to join the halls of our successors," the rather plain hallway enters in to a juxtaposing room which is covered with elaborate decoration: gold swirls on the coving; a silver handled arm chair in the corner; trophies and plaques in an array of shimmering metals. On the centre of the back wall, a holo-screen sized plate takes pride of place. Walking nearer, there's a crisp and fresh addition under her cousin's name (Victor of the 64th games).

"I had them do it prior to your arrival, so you'd see it now," he clasps his large hand on her shoulder firmly, breathing in deeply as if inhaling the sheer importance and magnitude of the room, "you're one of us now."

Letting Athena stay in the room to 'soak up the reality of my glory', she drags her eyes from her inscribed name. 'One of us'. One of who? The 'Andres': the golden family, the infamous family. Or another Capitol killer.

Trudging back out into the dusted central courtyard, she notices two young girls - not even 13 - sparring. The punches are direct and meaningful and not the sort used for casual training. One connecting punch sends the other girl stumbling back. Swiftly jerking her knee to her jaw, she's sent sprawling and defenceless on her back. Athena thought they would stop; she thought the fight's victor may offer her a hand up. But she doesn't.

"Hey!" she runs over, getting in between the two, "Stop this."

"I thought you of all people would understand a bit of ruff and tumble," one of the young girls retorts, standing her ground. Athena recognises her: Brutus' daughter, Andra.

"Shall I get your father to sort this out?" the latest Victor raises a testing eyebrow, knowing of how harsh he is on her. She clenches her jaw and simply struts away without a word. She sighs out a breath, nearly forgetting about the other girl.

"Thank you, Miss," she stumbles to her feet. Brushing her clothes down, she stands awkwardly. Her long, blond hair is pulled into two long fish-tale plaits. Her eyes are a deep brown and her features are as petite as her frame. Not the average initiate.

"Don't get into fights you can't win, kid," Athena huffs as she pats her shoulder and begins to walk away.

"I want to win," she calls after Athena, "just like you; I want to be brave, just like you."

She glances back, settling back into her expressionless expression, "Who's kid are you?"

"I'm Valda Heavensbee," as if she's explaining everything. Athena nods, recognising the name from somewhere.