Green's a Fine Colour [Chaos]

A small smile laces my lips as I watch the blond girl disappear from view, around the bend and out of sight. Dwyn is one of my few friends, part of the fewer still that haven't yet shunned me or slowly drifted away. Or died. That's always a big one.

For as long as I've known the younger girl, she's always had a certain gravity about her. It pulls me in like a moth to the flame, visible in those ice cold eyes that glint with something forbidden. Even though we haven't done anything sexual after that night in the club we always find each other close, pressing nearer than absolutely necessary when we're in each other's presence. She has somebody and so do I, it's refreshing that we can just... be close, without worrying that we're trying to take the other away from their respective lover. There always has and most probably always will be flirting in our friendship; it's the way we are. Who knows, if Kaya ever lets me off this proverbial leash perhaps I can ask for an encore that I'm sure she'll be more than pleased to deliver.

Yet as my thoughts turn to the feisty redhead, a frown furrows my brow. I'm honestly unsure what to make of her. The behavior she's shown in the past while has been increasingly erratic and irritated, aided by a helping of mood swings. While I love her dearly I'm beginning to grow annoyed by her constant change of pace, being caring one second and strangely distant the next. Such mixed signals that I think my brain is about to explode... I knew being with her would never be easy, but I swear somebody could've warned me. If I didn't know better I'd say she was pregnant; I sincerely doubt she'd go with another person let alone a man, and not even have the decency to tell me.

A flash of crimson out of the corner of my eye and I turn, seeing the foot of a figure disappear around the corner. Sighing, my mind turns to Trig. After the incident with the eating he's both terrified and enraged by my very presence. He doesn't hesitate to voice what he says, and it's often hurtful to my girlfriend and deliberately trying to tick me off. More than once I've had to resist storming out to cool off, only because I refuse to see that glint of triumph in his eyes that remind me too much of his father. I'm honestly not sure what to do about him; he's different and much the same as my own brother, but our way of dealing is much more violent than theirs. I won't stand by and watch him actively try and sabotage our relationship, but I can't make him shut up with some threats he'll no doubt carry to Kaya.

I grind my teeth in irritation as I wander up to her - our - house. The lights are on and footsteps have made the porch wet, no doubt somebody just came home. Trig, by the size of them. Shaking out my hair and shouldering into the hallway, I stop at the bizarre air the room has taken on. Like it became dead quiet as soon as I walked in. Raising an eyebrow I look around, noting that the fireplace is on, brother and sister are in the kitchen, and everything seems in place. But no, that's not right. Something's wrong. Meeting Kaya's eyes, I'm confused and slightly worried at the strong sense of worry, anger, betrayal, and... something else. What the hell is that? But my eyes are drawn from movement at the other end, and they narrow when I see smugness scrawled onto the boy's face. "The hell is going on?"

Then I see the pictures on the floor and stoop to pick them up. Trig lungs towards them but I'm faster, snatching them up and holding them out of reach while behind studied. It's me and... Dwyn? We're smiling and standing close, her with that lopsided smirk that I've grown to remember. Wait a second...

"What... this happened thirty minutes ago!" Realization. I turn to Trig, confusion and annoyance playing for dominance over my features. "You were watching us? I knew I saw something! But another look at Kaya, closer this time, reveals the hidden emotion.

Jealousy. Why should she be jealous?

A sigh and I look at the second picture, raising an eyebrow at the angle it was taken. From here it almost looks like our lips are brushing, and that gleam in Dwyn's eyes could be confused for tenderness; but it's amusement. I've grown to not screw up the mystery girl's moods anymore. We were remembering something that happened not too long ago - it required leaning closer. And let's face it, it's fucking freezing outside. A little human warmth would be nice. Still, this doesn't explain Kaya's emotions. I mean, what could we be doing in a clearing, out in the cold, with nobody else... oh. Oh.

Oh.

She thinks I'm cheating on her? That's fucking stupid! I'd never do that! But... she's been easily swayed these days, and as my eyes set on Trig's radiating satisfaction, it becomes apparent that's just what happened. How the hell am I going to explain this to her, and not sound like I'm trying to save my skin?

When this is all over, I'm going to kill this little fucker.

Angrily I crumple the pictures in my clenched fist, feeling the snarl vibrate through my teeth as I cast them down to the floor. How dare she accuse me of this! I have been nothing but faithful towards her, yet she thinks this of me? Am I really so little in her eyes? The monster surges up but I swallow it with the difficulty of scraping nails down my throat, shaking where I stand. If I go closer I fear she'll either hit me, or I'll hit her. "This girl," I hiss, eyes flashing dangerously in the lowlight. "Is Dwyn. She's a friend. Nothing else."

I decide not to comment on the pretty part because then she'll blow up and twist my words around me until I suffocate. My real name sounds bad and sour coming from her mouth, but I refuse to back down and show that it hurts when she says it. Instead I square my shoulders and stand my ground, glaring daggers at both siblings.

"So is this what you do when I'm not around? Get frisky with other girls?" This time something else entirely crawls up my throat and sits heavy, making it ache. I've been many things recently with Kaya; frustrated, loving, worried, guilty... even angry. But this? This is new, and I find that I can't make it go away and despite the neutral mask I attempt to slap on, it still leaks through the cracks.

Hurt.

It takes alot to hurt me. With my turbulent past, mental problems and general attitude on life, it doesn't make much difference to me what you end up doing. Sure, you can seriously piss me off if you decide to betray me and end up with a sword through your chest, but in the end it doesn't hurt. This, however? It's an entirely new experience for me, and not one I'd like to repeat. But a sinking feeling says that if I can't kill the root source, it will. "I can't believe you!"

I snap.

"Me? Can't believe me?! I can't believe YOU! A single, no, double picture somehow proves that I've been cheating? Tell me, Kaya, because I'd really like to know, when have I ever given you a single reason to suspect that I'm being unfaithful." I glance down at the pictures and grind my teeth, not trying to reign in the blatant fury that's been saturated into my voice.

"You've kept me on a short leash for no fucking reason at all and I'm going with it because I love you and want to be with you. Dwyn is a friend that I've known for a while and I've grown to trust her, nothing more. Am I not allowed to have friends anymore, Kaya?" I snap, crossing my arms over my chest. My frame is shaking but I level a cold gaze at her, not registering the smug glance Trig shoots before disappearing up the stairs. Boy is going to get a wake up call.

Nails dig into the softness of my skin as I struggle to keep it under control, taking deep breaths that whistle in through my closed jaws. Now my voice is softer, but the anger is trembling just under the surface. "Sometimes it's like you don't want me around anymore. I'll go to the ends of the earth for you, but recently I don't know what's happened. Do you really not love me, and try to find ways to kick me out?"

Paper crinkles a moment before I'm able to stuff it deep in my pockets and it slips out, fluttering on the draft and spiralling down to touch gently against the floorboards that would be screaming if they could talk. Against the brown wood the reddened seal looks angry and out of place, a bloodstain against lives that have just begun to mend again. I've read it and firmly re-sealed it, fully intending to burn the cursed thing before anybody else could happen upon the wretched text with the looping letters, but I suppose it's not to be. Kaya bends to pick it up and examines it thoroughly, turning it over and over while her lithe fingers make little trails along the creases like she does on my skin after passion.

Curiosity plays on her features and I can see the wheels turning under that head of almost crimson hair, debating whether or not to give it back to me. Twice she tries but something must tell her not to, so she retracts it and holds it against her. When her nails pop the seal my fingers twitch with the effort not to spring at her and throw it in the fire, just to watch it burn and disappear into nothingness. But regardless if the physical body is destroyed, the words written will remain heavy and much too real.

The text is a strange, harsh language, written with a genuine ink quill that scratches and makes ugly indents through the parchment. Still, the seemingly random placed letters make sense to me and I lick my lips, wondering if I should lie or outright refuse to read what it says. But the memory of a promise rings in my mind and instead I let out a tired sigh, pulling the paper from her fingertips and smoothing out the creases. Taking her by the waist I sit down in a chair by the fire, pulling her into my lap where my cheek rests comfortably against her neck.

For a moment I just stare, tracing the guttural words that still have a certain fluidity with my eyes and feeling her warmth seep into my front. I'm loathe to destroy the moment but I can practically feel the curiosity radiating off her form in waves, so with a deep breath I begin to translate;

You're Invited!

Dear Flight DeRicasho,

We've been watching you for a while. And through many conversations, we've come to the consensus that you are one part of what we need in a machine that will stun the Capitol. People irritate us, you see. Always double-crossing, never doing as their told. We are unable to deal out punishment in the ways we see fit; painful, bloody and lethal, of course, so we are creating a special group of selected residents to do so. While you will receive payment, this invitation is not to be taken lightly. If you refuse, take in mind that we know where you live since you've settled down and become much easier to track. Your redhead might get in the crossfire, if you decide to deny us what we wish. Keep that in your head.

So, you see, what we are asking for is your cunning. Your stealth. Your cruelty. And, with some of you, maybe even your insanity. We're not asking for you to go around murdering everyone who does wrong, but when the time comes, you must do as we say.

You will receive further instructions upon accepting/denying your spot in the group. We know you will make the right decision.

Yours Truly,
The ones you fear


My mouth is dry and my grip has tightened by the time I've stopped translating, the stuttering Icelandic obviously written by somebody other than a proffessional. Still, as my ancestral tongue, it gets the message across.

We're watching you.

"I accepted." I say as an afterthought, shifting so that I can look at her face. "There's no way I can ignore, not when they've made such an obvious threat against you."

Perhaps that was their plan. Put something I love at risk so that there's possible reason for me to deny their request. People are making it so bloody hard to keep promises at this rate; what with all the lies and deceit and murder. "Listen, I know I promised to stop killing. But this is something that I just can't avoid. I have to kill, so that we can be safe."

Fire swirls angrily in the little hollow chiseled from the wall, and I waste no time in balling up the ornate letter and casting it into the fire without a second thought. Almost immediately it catches and burns steadily, flames licking up the sides and erasing the bizarre, confusing language. When the seal ignites it releases a wave of putrid smoke that smells like a mix between a swamp and burnt flesh; the reflex tears that threaten to leak out are surprising in their intensity. I'm so far away that I barely notice as her hands grip my shoulders, shaking furiously. Perhaps in an attempt to make me see reason? Regardless, it's already been done.

"I don't care! I can defend myself!" This snaps me out of my temporary reverie and I fix her with a neutral stare, arching a slim raven eyebrow in protest of that statement. "Against the Capitol and their assassins? I'm not willing to risk it." The desperation in her eyes makes me ache, and I swallow the overpowering urge to go comfort her. "How do you know they won't harm you? How can you be sure of anything? This is crazy! Tell me." Another sigh, and I rake short fingernails through my hair, trailing down my scalp and tangling in the thick mane. "They probably will harm me. They made that pretty clear. But they won't kill me; they need me too much. I know this is crazy, love, but we'll get through it. We always do."

All the cells in my body scream to go to her and for once I don't resist, wearily getting up off the chair to wrap my arms around her. I press my front against her back and loosely link my arms around her waist, pressing a spiderwebbed hand on her shuddering abdomen. My large frame easily covers hers and I close my eyes, searching for the words that will make this all better. But deep down I know, know that there won't be any words to reassure her, because I don't even have words to reassure myself. It's a terrible idea going into this blind, but I have no other options.

"I know I'm being blackmailed." I mumble into her scarlet tresses. Kaya smells of summer and mountain strawberries, and the scent makes my limbs grow heavy at the prospect of leaving her for an unknown amount of time in this house, while the rest of Panem braces for the unwavering snowfall that will soon blanket our world in sheets of ice. It will lure out the hunters in their white parkas and oiled bows, and the metalworkers that are slowly but surely being incorporated into our way of life as their forges ring hot throughout the coldest snowfalls. "But I can't do anything about it. I have to do this, to keep us safe."

Her warmth is comforting in a world that is slowly spinning off its axis and I'm reminded of the glittering ring that I've hidden deep in my affairs, a silver band with dual gems that peer out like tiny eyes; red and green, yellow and black. While I'm not sure what possessed me to blow a huge chunk of my money on this beauty that I spied within the Sewers (the real thing, I've been assured by countless different jewelers), I do know that I'll save it for the right time. Certainly not for if (when...?) I ask her to marry me - I blanch at the mere thought of doing something I've been opposed to my whole life - but a reminder that I belong to her.

"You don't have to do this. Decline, please. Please, Tammy. I don't want to lose you." Despite the obvious message there is an underlaying current that is betrayed by the hidden fear in her voice, only remembered on that day where I first showed myself to her for what I've become.

I don't want you to be the monster I know you have.

In response I draw her as close as I can without crushing her, wiping the tears from her cheeks and feeling the steady thrum of her heartbeat underneath my palm. "Shh, Kaya. Don't worry, the monster will be chained up tight, just for you. I promise." Swallow. Sigh. "But maybe, maybe this is a good thing. It grows... restless."

When she pushes away I let her go off in her anger-fueled rant, visibly upset and bewildered that I refuse to fight this. There are many things that I will fight; the countless assassins in the Sewers, and greedy men seeking to take advantage of my abilities to silently dispatch people without so much of a trace. Bullies and extortionists alike will tremble under my wrath; but some things are better left untouched. The ones that don't even exist, groomed to perfection by bloodthirsty Capitolites wanting their way to exact a brutal revenge against ones who cross them. They are patient and armed with the best equipment and no conscience in the slightest. I've only run into one before, and it nearly cost me my life. There's no way I'm even considering the idea of putting Kaya into the crosshairs of one of those shadows.

My eyes slide over to the dull window as I try hard to ignore the desperation in her words, instead watching the now howling winds batter the unfortunate trees outside. The leaves tug and rip, sailing into the chaotic air where they whip against the faces of passerby. Inside I'm churning with ideas and thoughts, but they all come to the same thing; I have to go. In order to preserve what we have... what we could have. "No," I interrupt her, focusing again on her features. "I don't know for sure. I could snap and ravage everything, but then I have a group of well-trained people like me to help me chain it back in. Sigh. The embers of the once brilliant flame smolder quietly, waiting to be resurrected. "It's what I am, Kaya. I'll do what they say, and they'll leave us alone. If it was anything else I'd fight to the death, but I'm not willing to stand up to the might of the Capitol over one thing that can easily be taken care of."

Wearily I rub my blinded eye with the heel of my palm, savouring the grounding ache that radiates from the point of contact. Things have just gotten so hectic recently; I want nothing more than to just sleep in for a day or to practice my archery. Yet, I made a choice a long time ago, and now I'll always have to glance behind my shoulder. "Trust me, I hate this more than you, if it's possible. But this is something we just can't deny. I'll make my way back to you, I swear."

From the front of the room there is a dull, metallic thunk of an object hitting the floor. Gaze flicking to the front I instinctively drop into a slight crouch, curving my back and letting a hand float up to firmly grasp the wrapped hilt of one of my swords. Feet pad silently on the floor as I make a motion to be quiet, creeping up through the rooms and straining my ears for the slightest movement. But, all is still, and when the door finally comes into view there is a small package that has fallen through the slot in the door. Perhaps a trap? Why would they do that, if they want me well? Coming to rest above it, a blade is cautiously unsheathed, uncertain if it's to be used. The runes flash a brilliant blue in the dull lighting and metal hisses quietly through the air before coming to land against the elegant ribbon holding the package together. Snaking the blade underneath and flicking my wrist, the whole thing collapses outwards and I scramble backwards to avoid anything that could fly out.

Instead, there's simply a folded note and a picture of the clearing I was in with Dwyn just a few hours ago. Upon further inspection there is a blurry figure in the middle, jet black against the green and orange surroundings. Inside the note - parchment dry and cracked with age - a single word, written in swooping Icelandic that conveys a clear message.

Koma.

Even the elegant curves of the letters to a usually harsh languages broadcasts dread and mockery, and I allow my lips to form the words in an entirely different language. "Come."