Deja Vu Battle | Hunger Game 3 (Part 1)

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𝔸𝕤 an hour slipped away, and the office room remained bustling with activity, yet the crew enlisted by President Snow remained steadfastly indifferent to their presence. Estella and Iphigenia huddled around the desk of the younger girl, engrossed in the intricate designs for her upcoming appearance. Iphigenia's discontent was palpable as she scrutinized the drawings. "None of this is anything Poppy would dress you in!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing with frustration at the absurd sketches. Estella, catching the mention of the late Poppy, momentarily froze, a flicker of emotion crossing her face. Recovering swiftly, she shifted her seat for comfort and redirected her gaze outside the window, offering respite from the hours spent poring over scattered papers on the table.

"That's because I'm dressing as Peeta's new lover," Estella revealed calmly. Iphigenia's response was nothing short of a shocked exclamation. Estella suppressed the urge to laugh, observing the whispers and stares from the people behind them. Choosing to disregard the scrutiny, she adjusted her tone, feigning a somber demeanor to manipulate those around them, excluding Iphigenia. "Since Aries is... somewhere safe, President Snow believes Peeta would be a great 'replacement.' I agree." Her mentor shook her head, and in that shared moment of silence, their eyes spoke a language known only to them.

Taking a deep breath, Iphigenia carefully selected her words. "I... think that's a great idea. You're young, and there's no point in... mourning spilled milk," she remarked with a measured tone, acknowledging the necessity of the situation while concealing their true sentiments. The air in the room seemed to thicken with unspoken understanding as they navigated the delicate dance of conversation, concealing their true intentions from those who might be listening.

Estella's eyes traced the intricate designs before her, each stroke on the paper prompting a cascade of reflections. At this moment, she couldn't help but notice the profound divergence between her present attire and the kaleidoscopic wardrobe she once adorned. The role thrust upon her as Peeta's feigned lover dictated a shift toward modesty, a departure from the bold and vivacious colors she once wore, now replaced by a palette of subdued beige and brown tones. It was as if her very essence, once expressed through vibrant fabrics, was now confined within the threads of these more reserved garments.

With a soft sigh, Estella reluctantly admitted to herself that this newfound restraint in style likely aligned with Peeta's preferences for a partner's attire. A subtle resignation settled over her, acknowledging the sacrifices one made for the sake of appearances and the intricate dance of political intrigue.

As her fingers delicately traced the lines on the paper, memories of a different time flooded Estella's mind. A time when Aries was a vibrant presence, and Poppy, attuned to Aries's flamboyant persona, transformed Estella into a living canvas of colors that demanded attention. The hues were bold, arresting, and crafted to turn heads. Gold and silver jewelry adorned her neck and shoulders, shimmering with each graceful movement. The dresses, strategically designed to showcase curves and skin, were a deliberate ploy to evoke jealousy and pride in Aries. It was a style that, at first, made Estella uneasy, but with time, she grew to embrace the attention-commanding garments as an extension of her identity.

The stark contrast between these two phases of her life laid bare the complexity of the roles she played. Each outfit, a costume carefully chosen for the stage of her existence, held within it the nuances of her relationships, allegiances, and the ever-shifting currents of the Capitol's intricate social dynamics.

Estella found herself caught between the threads of these contrasting wardrobes, wondering how much of herself was lost or revealed in the choices dictated by the whims of those in power. The office room, bustling with activity, became a silent witness to the unspoken struggles and identity shifts woven into the fabric of Estella's existence.

As the clandestine discussion continued, the atmosphere in the office room seemed to shift subtly, as if the air itself carried the weight of their shared secrets. Estella maintained her facade of a dutiful participant in President Snow's plans, concealing the turmoil beneath her composed exterior. Iphigenia, too, played her part with finesse, masking her disapproval with a diplomatic expression that betrayed nothing.

The whispers behind them persisted, growing more fervent as the onlookers speculated on the peculiar exchange between mentor and mentee. Ignoring the prying eyes, Estella pressed on with the charade, her voice steady as she elaborated on the supposed necessity of her role as Peeta's new companion. The ruse required them to dance on the delicate line between deceit and survival, their every word a carefully crafted step in this intricate performance.

Iphigenia, ever intuitive, seized the opportunity to redirect the conversation subtly. "Estella, my dear," she began, her words laced with a blend of concern and understanding, "this situation is undoubtedly challenging, but we must focus on the greater purpose. What can we do to turn this circumstance to our advantage?"

Estella, appreciating Iphigenia's ability to read between the lines, met her mentor's gaze. "I need a rook," she whispered, the urgency of their situation underscoring every word. "Someone who see through President Snow's facade and are willing to play along."

Iphigenia nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. "There are other victor in captive here," she emphasized, her eyes flicking towards the crew that remained stoically disengaged from their conversation. "Trust is a precious commodity here, Estella. We must tread carefully and discern who among us might be sympathetic to our cause."

As they delved into the complexities of their precarious position, the office room became a clandestine battlefield, each whispered word a strategic move in the high-stakes game they found themselves playing. Unbeknownst to the onlookers, Estella and Iphigenia were forging a quiet rebellion against the oppressive forces that sought to manipulate their lives. The echoes of their whispered plans reverberated through the room, planting the seeds of resistance that would grow quietly, hidden in the shadows of the Capitol's carefully constructed facade.

Iphigenia observed the subtle transformation in Estella's eyes, a fleeting moment where something clicked, and a wicked glint reminiscent of Aries in his most intense moments surfaced. "What's on your mind?" she inquired. In response, Estella's voice held a determined edge as she revealed, "Peeta. I must assume the role of his lover. The least he can do for me is become my new pawn in this intricate chess game."

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