The banquet // part 2 (Reader!Snow x Finnick Odair)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22, @merlieve, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23, @melsunshine , @venomsvl, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @slythetic, @bitchybananaflower, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @sweetheartlizzie07
Summary: Now that the surprise is out in the open. You are expected to join a banquet. Knowing either favours or curses will be thrown at you for your father's choices. Will you be able to tell the reality? [series]
Your muscles tensed upon hearing the footsteps. Able to recognize them out of a thousand. The way his weight pressed down onto the heel. The pace always the same, never quicker or slower. Closing your eyes briefly, you awaited the impact. Doors opening made you flash your gaze open once more.
Supressing a shuddering breath as you sensed him near from behind. Not batting an eye when his figure came in sight, appearing in front of you. – “My daughter.” – Snow said. Voice husky and low. Staring at the brooch stuck to his clothing, you knew well enough to avoid eye contact with him.
He shifted the weight on his feet, tilting his head slightly to the side. His gaze stern on your clothing. The one’s you had changed for the wedding dress. Nothing that shouted capital at all. – “It was quite the spectacle, my dear.” – he spoke moving his hands to your shoulders.
Plucking at the fabric by your shoulders so it detached from your skin. – “You had the people at their throats.” – he went on, settling his hands on your shoulders. Allowing them to slowly go down your arms. He chuckled shortly. – “You’ve really outdone yourself.” – the faintest of compliment slipping out from him.
Still staring at his brooch, you had a burning question on your tongue. Knowing you might not receive the answer you wanted from him, you still needed it to be outed. – “What is your true purpose for this?” – you asked, gaze still settling low.
Snow let out a chuckling breath, batting his gaze briefly to the chandelier. His gloved fingers grabbed for your chin. Firm and with an entire grip. Forcing your gaze upwards. Staring back into his cold eyes. – “Do you doubt me daughter of mine?” – he asked calm yet a hint of a warning clear in his voice.
“I do not.” – you responded like the obedient girl you were taught to be. Snow hummed curiously, moving you closer to his chest. His beard against your cheek. His lips close to your ear. – “Then obey.” – he whispered as a final warning. Moving you back from the awkward embrace, he chuckled with a good pat against your arm.
“Come, you must prepare for the banquet, I am holding in your honour.” – he informed you, making you briefly widen your eyes with surprise. – “I’ve laid something out for you, I expect you to wear it, my daughter.” - giving your arm a soft squeeze it was clear he didn’t want any rebellion against it.
“Yes father.” – you responded with a small curtsy. He nodded once with a smile before leaving the room. Once he was out of sight, you exhaled loud. Clutching for your chest as you thought your heart might have dropped out of it.
Fingers settling deep into the armchair before you to maintain your balance. Whatever scheme your father had hidden away, he wasn’t going to reveal it to you. The only thing you could do was follow obediently. For he had been so generous towards you. Needing to be relieved you were born in this family and not another.
For you might have had a short life then. Calming yourself and coming back to your senses, you walked over to the changing room. Eyes widening at the pompous dress on the hanger. Ruffles everywhere. Here and there a feather.
You immediately hated it. It was so capital coded. Making you fit right in with the rest of the lot. The bigger and more expressive the better. Sighing loud, you knew you couldn’t disobey your father. Taking the dress of the hanger, you held it in front of you. Checking yourself in the mirror.
Needing to blink rapidly to keep any tears at bay. – “This is going to be the most awkward and shameful diner ever.” – you said knowing you would be the laughing stock amongst the others. A silly thought crossed your mind. What if you needed to dine with any of the victors?
Groaning from embarrassment, you didn’t think you could handle it if it were true. Despite protesting much about it, you slipped into the dress. Readying yourself for the ridicules. It didn’t only look uncomfortable, it also was. The fabric was itchy and too bombastic for you to move around smoothly.
Another restriction on his behalf. Plastering on your over-used smile, you took your leave. Escorted by one of the guards through the halls. They didn’t say anything because they were used to the frivolities from the capital.
He took a halt by the doors. Opening them with both his hands. Shoving both sides of the double door open. Gaze growing wider in shock at the room filled with victors. Each already sitting down. Already feeling the embarrassment creep up, you turned your face away. To avoid their staring eyes.
A waiter approached, coming at your side. – “Allow me to escort you to your seat, miss Snow.” – he whispered to you. You nodded without a word. Letting him guide you to the end of the table. Snippets of chuckles and snickers following like whispers. Slightly lifting your head up, you saw they had positioned the boy from district 4 and 12 at each side. Great. Your chair got pulled back as you took a seat. They all stared in your direction.
You gestured at them to begin feasting so that they paid little attention to you. You sensed that Peeta kept gawking at you whilst Finnick at your right hand couldn’t stop snickering. – “Might I say you look exquisite, Y/n. Like a dazzling bird.” – he joked. Peeta’s head immediately turned in his direction with a glare. – “Stop laughing.” – you bit at him under a composed expression.
Finnick shuddered out a cry of pain whilst still harbouring his laughter. Moving his hand down under the table to his leg. Shooting Peeta a glare for the kick he had felt. – “I was merely teasing.” – Finnick responded as a settlement. – “I am already embarrassed enough, no need to fuel it more.” – you replied with an ashamed look.
Seeing how the other victors at the table were clearly mocking you. Mocking you for being the pompous, naïve girl that didn’t have to fight for anything in her life. – “I just want this diner to be over.” – you whispered to yourself, lowering your gaze to your plate. – “Hey Snow girl!” – you got called out from somewhere at the table.
Lifting your head up, you saw a fierce girl lean more to the centre to have a good look of you. – “The deal was riches for us and our district, right?” – she asked making herself loud. – “Privileges.” – you corrected her, keeping your gaze low. – “but yes, both victors and your districts will receive privileges upon the marriage.” – you explained to them.
“Then take a good look at this idiot here.” – She grabbed the boy beside her by the shirt. Shoving him in view. – “Joanna!” – he hissed at her with annoyance. – “He’s good enough isn’t he?” – she squeezed his cheeks together with her hand. – “Joanna!” – the boy repeated pushing her hands down. Joanna let go of him. – “Are you not even going to look at him?” – she called out that you hadn’t batted an eye their way.
She scoffed loud. – “This is all rigged isn’t it! Trickery for I assume your husband is already chosen. It’s that idiot over there isn’t it?” – Joanna pointed firm at Gloss from district 1. – “Me?” – Gloss repeated, pointing confused at himself. – “Is it? Am I?” – he turned to you with eagerness. – “It is not.” – you responded. Gloss fell back in his chair with a grumpy expression as Joanna laughed mockingly at him.
“It’s not even fair game. Like she would marry that old man.” – Joanna pointed at Beetee. – “No offense.” – she added. – “None taken.” – he responded. – “I’m just saying this is all a stupid cover up, why would Snow even let his daughter marry a lowlife.”
You got startled when Peeta’s chair got pushed back. Scraping over the floor hard. – “That’s enough!” – he warned her. Joanna puffed loud, settling herself back in her chair. A silence fell upon the room once Peeta sat down again. Acting as if nothing had just occurred.
With your hands on your lap, you kept staring downwards. Not wanting anyone to see how much you were struggling to keep your tears at bay. – “Hey.” – a sudden whisper caught your ears. Making you lift your head in the direction of the voice. At your right, Finnick moved in closer so only you could hear.
“You haven’t touched your food yet…” – he motioned with his gaze at your untouched plate. – “Not hungry.” – you responded, pushing your plate slightly further away from you. Finnick shifted his gaze briefly before settling back on you. – “Look I’m sorry about before. This must feel as uncomfortable for you as it is to us.” – he spoke in a low voice.
“I didn’t expected this kind of drama even after being forced to join the games again.” – he went on. Looking back at your lap, you felt sorry. He was right. – “I am sorry you are forced to join the games once more. I am sorry that the games even exist in the first place.” – apologizing to him for you knew no one else would.
“It’s not your fault, Y/n.” – he responded with a smile. – “Yet that doesn’t take away the feeling that it appears so.” – was your answer. – “I just wish these ruffles were big enough so I can hide away.” – you whispered, surprised that Finnick suddenly busted out in laughter. Half of the table looking his way to see what the fuss was about.
“You're practically already drowning in them Y/n, I don’t think they need to be any bigger.” – he replied with a chuckle. You gave him a playful shove against his shoulder to stop being this ridiculous. The table got cleared up as everyone took their leave. You wanted to leave, but orders came that you needed to follow them. So you did joining them to the lounge room.
A place for the victors to relax till the upcoming date of the games came closer. You went to sit down by the window, sitting in a lounge sofa that curved along the circular part of the room. The victors all keeping a grand distance from you.
Some left to go training others left to catch up on some sleep. Few victors were left in the room. You quirked your head up upon hearing footsteps approach. Finnick approached you, holding a plate in his hand. – “You haven’t eaten yet, Y/n.” – he said offering you the plate. – “Like I said I’m not hungry.” – you lied.
Your stomach making that drastic sound afterwards. Making him chuckle of course. Finnick sighed soft, coming to sit in front of you. – “Just eat so I feel less guilty.” – he spoke offering you the plate again. – “So that was your true motive then. Only caring for your own guilt.” – you responded with a sly smile. Teasing him.
Finnick chuckled as you took the plate from him. Eating from his offerings. He moved his elbow on the railing, letting his knuckles rest against his cheek. You paused your eating, glancing up to his visible stare at you. – “Go ahead ask.” – you responded, sensing he had a burning question on his lips.
For a moment he kept staring at you with a certain expression. Then it shifted into a smile as he lowered his gaze shyly. You blinked confused at his sudden silliness. – “I was just wondering…” – he began. His fingers brushing through the ruffles of your skirt. Your gaze resting on him. Interested into knowing what he thought.
“how you got into this dress.” – he finished showing you a piece of the ruffles. Knowing he was teasing you, you rolled your eyes at him. Not before giving him a punch in his shoulder for being so ridiculous. – “I’m serious.” – he called out trying to make it believable. – “Ha. Ha. Odair.” – you responded dryly.
“Just to be clear I didn’t pick this.” – you wanted it out. Not wanting him to think you were as simple minded as the rest of the capital. – “I figured.” – he answered, still feeling the fabric of your dress between his fingers. Letting his fingers rub against it, lost in the pile of ruffles for you to see.
Not even half aware for himself that he was doing it. Your gaze was at the ground beside you. Suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion of loneliness. – “Look you don’t have to pretend to be in my favour. If you want my father to pick you, I’ll do so.” – you responded. Not clear whether this was sincere or not.
You knew very well people would do anything for their own good. Why would he be any different. You moved from your position, the ruffles rippling over his leg as he felt it slip further through his fingers. – “I wasn’t…” – he breathed out as you had gotten up. – “Y/n that wasn’t…” – he went on, getting up as well.
You gasped soft, stopped in your pace by a grip around your wrist. Tugging you slowly back to them. – “Look I wasn’t talking for favours.” – he spoke. His gaze briefly shifted to somewhere beside you. It made you turn your head as well, seeing Peeta stand afar with crossed arms.
You pulled your hand away so it slipped out of his grip. – “I thank you for your concern, but I shall return to my quarters now.” – you told him, turning your posture away. – “Shall I…” – he began as you stopped him from going any further. – “I can find my own way.” – you spoke, hand up so he couldn’t take it.
Picking up the annoying ruffles on your skirt, you took your leave. Entering your room, you slid down against the door. Pulling your knees up to your chest. Body shuddering with sobs. For you finally dared to out your upholding tears. Unsure if you could separate reality from favouring.
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