"Ladies and gentleman, the Victor of the 66th Hunger Games. The Black Dahlia!"

That was the introduction she got in every District she visited. They didn't use her real name. They used the one the Capitol had bestowed on her. Snow's orders, apparently. An attempt to solidify the unattainable character she had become. But in Dahlia's eyes, it was a way to dehumanize her. Make her seem like a Career or an extension of the Capitol. To put her in her place. As if Snow was trying to hint that this is who she is now and she can't change that. Everyone in Panem had witnessed her brutal finale and that's all they'll ever associate her with.

She had numbly complied with Magenta's instructions for the outlying districts. Making the speech, offering condolences and praising the Capitol like an obedient puppet on a string. They had no issue with her and she'd had none with them. The only death from their districts she had been responsible for was Jean from Eight, but it was assumed that the girl wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway.

The hardships started when Dahlia arrived in District Four. She knew this would be the most difficult one, both for her and for the District. She had killed Caspian and Cove died in her arms. Dahlia assumed they wouldn't be happy with her for killing off their Careers and denying them another victory.

"Now, chin up. Shoulders back." Magenta orders, ushering Dahlia towards the doors of the Justice Building. "Just read from the card and don't stray from the script."

"Yes, sir." Dahlia replies blandly, defeated and worn out from the constant pressures placed on her shoulders. Glancing back at Alaric as she prepares to go onstage, the man gives her a reassuring nod and a smile to ease her troubled mind. Dahlia doesn't have the energy to even force a smile back as District Four's Mayor starts to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Victor of the 66th Hunger Games. Dahlia Blossom."

The doors are opened immediately, giving no time for Dahlia to process the shock of his words. He said her name. He actually said her real name. Such a tiny detail sparked such joy in her. It felt like a sign from Cove, a small acknowledgement that she was watching over her. With more bounce in her step than she'd had on the entire tour, Dahlia strides out onstage with purpose. This District is usually supportive of the Victors, cheering for them as they appear. But for Dahlia, the crowd stays silent.

"Thank you." She acknowledges the Mayor, gripping tightly onto the prepared speech card. The words sound robotic. They are recited and flawless, but cold. There's no emotion or meaning behind it, but they distract her from the image of Cove's face projected on the screen. "It is an honour to be standing before you today as a Victor. A title I hoped to achieve from the moment I volunteered."

The next lines require her to address the families of the fallen tributes, which forces her to tear her gaze away from the card and look up. Across the silent crowd, the first thing she finds is a familiar pair of eyes staring back at her. Sea-green, like Cove's. For a moment, she could be tricked into thinking her friend had returned from the dead. But flaming red hair is the second thing to catch her eye.

"She's a redhead so the only thing we have in common is our eyes."

Cove's description of her sister is the only thought in her mind. Annie Cresta stands solitary, forced to grieve for her sister alone. Her protector, her family, reduced to a face on the screen behind her. Dahlia's fists clench in anguish, slowly crumpling the card in her hand. This whole ceremony was pointless. Just an illusion to rub salt in the wounds that were just beginning to heal.

The expectant eyes of District Four watch as the formidable girl's face becomes stoic and enraged. She lets the wretched cards slip through her fingers and pulls back her shoulders. Instead of a young girl following orders, there now stood a confident young woman with her own opinions. And the people were ready to listen.

"The privileges of a Victor are unrivalled." She begins, no longer content to bite her tongue when these mutinous thoughts enter her mind. "But it is a privilege that cannot be taken for granted." The Capitol never cared who she was until she became something they could profit from. A product they could market. "I wouldn't be alive right now if it wasn't for Cove. She's the one who deserves to be up here, not me. She was innocent. All of the tributes were. And they didn't need to die." Annie breaks down sobbing at the mention of her sister and Dahlia hangs her head in sorrow. "I am sorry that it is me standing here and not your loved ones. But I stand, not as The Black Dahlia, but as myself. A girl who lost her friend and her heart in that arena. A girl who has realised that no one can escape from the Games. It steals something away from all of us, chipping away until there's nothing left. I am sorry that it has stolen a larger chunk from your lives."

As a gentle applause of appreciation rings out, Caspian's family seems to bow their heads in forgiveness and that's all Dahlia needs to see to know that she has done the right thing. She earned the respect of a district through her own words, not a title she doesn't deserve. Cove's image stares down at her with a proud grin, satisfied with the way Dahlia carries on her legacy.

Dahlia's contentment is ruined when Magenta teeters up to her with a displeased expression. "I specifically told you to stick to the script." He hissed into her ear, covering the microphone with his hand. "That kind of talk could be seen as rebellion."

"Well, your script was uninspiring." Dahlia retorts with a roll of her eyes.

Magenta's normally bubbly face twists into a stiff frown as he harshly whispers his next commands, "Wrap up your inspirational speech without stoking a mutiny. We don't have time for you to play silly games."

As the frazzled escort clicks away on his ridiculous heels, Dahlia feels her body fill with rage. Of course the Capitol citizen would view her words of compassion as little more than a game. This was about people's lives. How many more children must die before the districts decide they've had enough? Snow makes everyone pieces in his own little game and believes he can manipulate them all to his will. But Dahlia has decided that she is going to play his game too.

"You know what..." She scoffs, jaw ticking as her fingers trail to the necklace concealed under her clothing. Dahlia is tired of trying to fight the fire. So why not just add fuel to it? "Fuck this. Fuck the Capitol! Fuck the Hunger Games! And fuck President Snow!"

Roars and outcries spread through the audience. Whether they're outraged or in agreement, Dahlia doesn't know. And she'll never find out because a Peacekeeper snatches her struggling figure from the podium, dragging her away into the Justice Building. He dumps her unceremoniously on the marble floor as the doors are shut behind them.

As Dahlia glares at the retreating Peacekeeper, a newcomer approaches and a male voice comments, "That was quite a speech."

"Everyone knows I like to put on a good show." She grumbles snidely as an immaculately clean pair of shoes stepping into her vision. "I missed you, Finnick."

The blonde boy grins down at her, offering a hand to help her up. "Missed you too, little flower." He responds softly as Dahlia accepts his help and allows him to pull her to her feet.

"Sorry for causing a commotion in your district." Dahlia apologises sheepishly.

"No you're not." Finnick chuckles smoothly with a laugh so contagious, Dahlia can't help but join in. She hasn't laughed this genuinely outside of Alaric's house. "You just said what all of us were thinking. Someone needed to have the guts to say it."

Dahlia's laughter subsides as realisation hits hard. "I'm going to pay for it though, aren't I?" Finnick's silence is the only answer she receives but it says more than words ever will. "I'm so stupid. Why did I do that?"

"Because you were angry." Finnick justifies, gently grasping onto her shoulder as Dahlia tries to turn away. "And rightfully so."

"And my family might suffer the consequences of my anger." Dahlia retaliates, unable to look away from the boy's intense gaze. "I don't want to end up like Annie. Alone on that platform with no one around me."

"You won't." Finnick vows, trailing the tips of his fingers along her arm. Dahlia, usually so opposed to physical touch, finds comfort in Finnick's affection. "I promise you now. You'll always have people around you, no matter what you do."

"Does that include you?" Dahlia questions, unable to subdue the feelings of hope bubbling inside of her.

Finnick bites his bottom lip to conceal the grin that desperately tugs at the corner of his lips. "Do you want it to include me?" Dahlia can do nothing but nod, which causes the boy to give in and smile wholeheartedly. "When you need me, I'll be there."

"I do actually need to ask a favour." Dahlia murmurs, the gold dahlia pendant burning into her skin as a reminder. Finnick quirks a brow in curiosity and nods for Dahlia to continue. "I made a promise to Cove that I would look after her sister. But I can't do that from my district. I need someone in Four who I can trust to watch over her."

"I'll make sure nothing happens to her." Finnick promises, feeling responsible for Annie's wellbeing after failing to mentor Cove to victory.

"Who said I was referring to you?" Dahlia points out, enjoying the way Finnick's face falls and his mouth drops open with no sound escaping. Putting the embarrassed boy out of his misery, her stern face melts away into a taunting grin. "I'm just teasing. It would be a huge weight off my chest if you were the one looking out for her."

Finnick sighs in mock annoyance at her taunts, but the dopey smile remains. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will. I trust you." Dahlia assures him, basking in the golden sunlight streaming through the window. The trust of a Victor is not something that is handed out at random and Finnick feels the warmth of pride fill his chest as she willingly bestows it on him. He must be doing something right if a girl like her can trust the person he's become. Oblivious to the soft look in Finnick's eyes as he watches her gaze around the pristine hall, Dahlia yearns to see more of what lies beyond the doors of this district. With a bittersweet smile on her face, she quietly murmurs, "Cove told me I'd love District Four."

"What do you think of it so far?" Finnick asks, eager to know what she thinks of the district he loves so much.

She hums in thought, eyes never leaving the bronzed boy in front of her. "The people are the best part, but I suppose the district's not too bad. This is the first place I've visited where they introduced me by my own name."

"I noticed." Finnick comments with a sly grin and a knowing gleam in his eye. Dahlia's eyes narrow in suspicion, crossing her arms and stepping back to observe him. "Don't look at me like that."

"What did you do?" Dahlia questions, scrutinising the boy with a perceptive gaze.

Finnick gasps theatrically and places a hand to his chest. "I take great offense to that." Dahlia's eyes sweep down Finnick's body in silent judgement, waiting for the boy to spill the information. Snickering awkwardly, Finnick gives in to the girl's dark gaze. "You said yourself, the privileges of a Victor are unrivalled. Even the Mayor is open to suggestions from a Victor." Stern clearing of a throat sounds behind the boy, making him tense up and turn to find his former Mentor staring pointedly at him. He quickly corrects his statement, "Sorry. Two Victors."

"I see you two are well-acquainted." Alaric states, glancing back and forth between the two young Victors as he and Mags approach the pair. "Flower, I want you to meet Mags. Victor of the 11th Hunger Games. Mags this is my tribute, Dahlia."

The older woman smiles kindly at the young girl, gently cupping her face like a grandmother would greet her grandchild. "It's truly an honour to meet you." Dahlia expresses softly, feeling the waves of compassion radiating off this woman. "Thank you for doing that. Hearing my name meant a great deal to me."

"You were a good ally for Cove." Finnick says mournfully, showing Dahlia how Cove's death had affected him as well. She was the first tribute he'd had to mentor. It must've been hard to see her demise. "It's the least we could do."

"Thank you both, truly." Alaric adds genuinely, strolling to join Dahlia's side. "We'll see you in the Capitol for the celebrations. But for now, we must be heading off."

Just as Alaric begins to guide Dahlia away, she remembers something and rushes back over to Finnick. "Wait." The boy attentively turns at her cry as she halts in front of him. "Can you give this to Annie?"

"Of course." Finnick nods as Dahlia grasps his hand and uncurls his fingers. She deposits the gift into his palm and closes his fist around it.

"Thank you, Finnick." She whispers briefly, leaning up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek in gratitude. His face flushes as she quickly scurries after Alaric and Mags smirks knowingly at him.

"Don't you dare." He warns the older woman, who snickers quietly and walks away. The boy sighs, staring longingly after the girl with his fingers clenched tightly around the gift. "Anything for you, little flower."

Enclosed safely in his hand was the blue dahlia pin that the girl had used as her token. A perfect representation of her and Cove. And now, a perfect symbol to show Annie that she wasn't alone. Her sisters are watching out for her.