The Rebel Victor | I [THG]

Chapter Thirty-One | The Victor

The prep room looked exactly the same as she remembered it, but it seemed like it had been years since she had been there. She was still in the same clothes, she looked awful-- she could assume that at least. She had been brought here, to wait for her prepteam and mentor. But her stomach was twisting. How was she supposed to act? Was she supposed to be happy? Sad? Was she supposed to act exactly the same? How did they expect her to be? Would they feel sorry for her? Would they be happy?

There were so many questions buzzing around in her head, and she didn't know any of the answers. She needed Finnick or Ciruss to tell her the answers. She couldn't answer them. She could barely think straight! How had she won? She had nearly died multiple times, and she still one? She killed Leanne. Easily-- she got through the games only killing two tributes directly-- how could she win? It should have been Leanne.

"Quinn?"

Quinn turned her head from the metal bed she had been laying on. For a moment, fear flooded her body mixed with anger and confusion because of the Victor Mutts. But in the entry way to the room stood Finnick Odair.

"Finnick!" she exclaimed pushed herself out of the position she had been in. She hurried over to Finnick, clearly with a bad limp because she had nothing to lean on like the trident. She almost couldn't believe it was the real Finnick, she felt like she had been away from years and not only a little over a week. So when she finally hugged him, she felt like it much have been a dream. She'd wake up back in the arena. Or maybe back in District Four-- maybe all of this had only been a dream.

"You did it," he started, "You won." she could hear it in his voice that he was smiling. "Mags wanted to come see you, but they said only I could." he explained.

"What about Damien? Is he alright?" she asked quickly.

Finnick nodded, "Damien's fine. He's already back on the train, waiting." he explained, but there was something else in his tone. Something that she didn't like.

"What's the matter, Finnick?" she asked, taking a step back from him.

Finnick frowned, "I'll tell you after your interview. On the train."

Her heart dropped, the moment of happiness was gone and the thought of the Victors inerview was awful. Especially after her last interview and how awful it had gone. That interview had been most of the reason Snow had tried to kill her so much inside the arena.

"Quinn! You shouldn't be on your leg!" Quinn looked over her shoulder quickly, only in time to see Breea, Kellun, and Yizel entering through the second door in the room. She felt her cheeks begin to flush red. They had done so much to make sure she looked good before the games, and now they had even more to do.

"Come sit down, then we can get you all fixed up." Kellun smiled a bit, tapping the metal bed where she had just been.

"I'll see you after your interview, okay?" Finnick said as Kellun held out his hand to help Quinn to her seat. She didn't want Finnick to leave, but she nodded anyway...

"Quinn," Breea said quietly, "We were so worried about you." she stated, some tears were building up in her eyes. "We thought...you know..."

Yizel nodded in agreement.

Kellun wrapped his arms around her and hugged her gently, "We are so glad we still get to be on your team, Quinn." he told her, "Ciruss is really proud too."

"Where is he?" she asked sharply.

Breea smiled, "Where he always is, getting your outfit together."

* * * * * *

They had put her to sleep for awhile so she could get some rest while a doctor came in to fix her wounds. When she woke up, there wasn't any pain in her leg at all. Kellun explained that they had given her some morphling but even once it worke off it shouldn't hurt all too much. It was ache and if she did too much on it, it may hurt. He explained that they had to actually had to replace part of the bone in her leg with a piece of metal-- when the arrow had shot through her leg, it had chipped off a piece. The cuts on her collarbone were practically sand-down and smooth even though she still had stitches on some of them. The doctor had even had to do a small surgery on the bridge of her nose. But they promised it wouldn't be too noticeable.

Quinn's leg was wrapped tightly with bandages, and she watched as Kellun gently went to work on the skin on her arms and Breea worked on her face. Yizel had done all the cleansing and waxing while she was still asleep, and she was thankful for that. If she had felt the waxing, she may have tried to kill Yizel. But by the time that they were helping her into the next room, where Ciruss was waiting for her, she felt clean but she didn't feel any better. Because she had been so quiet that she hadn't been able to speak to them at all.

Ciruss smiled kindly at her as she sat down in the more comfortable chair. "There she is, the victor of the seventy-third Hunger Games."

Breea giggled a bit.

"How does it feel?"

"Shitty." she replied quickly looking up at Ciruss. The room fell silent for a moment, and Ciruss looked at the others.

"I think I can take over from here," he said nodding a bit. And the three of them turned and slowly left the room. "It can get easier." he said once it was only the two of them left in the room.

"Can?" she echoed.

He nodded, "You can either let it destroy you, or you can find your way of living." he explained, "Every Victor has a different way of getting through the day. Some of them just push everyone away, some of us do our best to not be alone."

"Is that what you do?" she asked.

He nodded, "I found that being alone and doing nothing is the worst thing you could do," he stated as he began to get things together. "That's when the thoughts and dreams are the worst, but if you're doing something productive you won't end up like Twelve or Six." he explained, "That's just thier way of cooping with things...but it can be easier. Just depends what you choose to do."

She sighed, looking back at herself in the mirror. She could see that the bridge of her nose was crooked. "But I don't know what I could do."

"You've got Finnick, Annie Cresta, and Mags back home." he said, "You won't ever have to be left on your own...I mean, unless that's what you wanted." he said. "I'm not saying it'll be easy. But it all depends what you do with things now..."

* * * * * *

The dress that Ciruss had for her was all black, and the skirt of it was flowy so nobody would be able to see the thick bandages on her leg. Instead of having straps, it was all lace that had black threading in it. It was the prettiest dress that she had been put in since she had gotten to the Capitol. Then her hair was pinned up and her nails were painted black with small pearls decorating them. Then her eyes were surrounded with dark makeup to go with it. Ciruss wasn't making her walk in heels either, she physically still wouldn't be able to. So instead she wore a nice pair of black flats. And the final touch was her mockingjay pin.

Ciruss escorted her to the elevators, and from there two Peacekeeper brough her to the crowning ceremony. But Ciruss was sure to assure her that he would see her before her interview with Ceasar Flickerman. Before the games, she had felt strange next to Peacekeepers. Anyone from the Capitol really, but now, she was practically one of them. She was a Victor.

Quinn stood next to the golden podium that Snow stood behind for every Presidentail announcement or anything that had anything to do with the games.

"Smile, wave, and smile some more..." she reminded herself, so she forced a smile onto her face and she would occasionally wave to the people who were watching the ceremony in the crowd. Everything else was a blur, she wasn't paying attention to the speech that Snow was giving, she didn't care about it. So far being a Victor wasn't as glamorous as they had always made it seem. But these people didn't seem to care how awful it was to her, they just cared about her outfit or the fact that they had another Victor to add to the ranks.

She was snapped from her thoughts when President Snow stepped in front of her holding a golden crown in his hands.

"Congratulations, Ms. Maverick." he said looking down at her, but it was clear to see in his eyes that he wasn't truely happy that she had won. "I believe we have some things to discuss in the future." he said simply as he placed the Victors crown on her head.

"I believe we do too, President Snow."