"It does." He's not particularly attached to his name, and really, it might be a burden lifted to cut his associations with his public identity. Finnick Odair is for the rich to consume. Finnick Cresta is for her alone.
A family. A family. Not just their little group of Victors, but small humans who would take after them, who they could raise and shape all their own, without the terrible interference of the Games. It's a hope beyond hopes, a pipe dream, and yet when it makes Annie beam like that, he can't possibly deny the dream to either of them.
"A little boy... Or girl... Or both..." Finnick can't even decide what he would want more. He'd teach them to swim, to fish, they could live on the beach, live a simple life.
"Oh, Annie..." Tears fill his eyes as he squeezes her close again. These hopes are foolish and he knows it, but after the horrible few months they've had, he can't help but indulge in some joy.
"Or both!" She tells him, her toes curling in excitement. Marriage, a family, children. She'd always been good with children, helping to teach some of them to swim before her Games. Afterward, people were afraid she'd try to drown the children, or find herself lost in her own head to the detriment of the pupils. But she'd had her little brother, only six years old when he'd been killed, alongside her parents.
Turns out, mad girls didn't make for good Victors, because you couldn't control them any more than they could control themselves. They didn't understand the way others did, what would happen if they stepped out of line. So they had to be taught another way. A visit of a few peacemakers in the middle of the night, the noise of a hovercraft rising above the waves. Careful words aimed at the surviving child by a man who smelled too much like roses, even over the smell of salt.
She'd always wanted children. And to have them with Finnick?
"Happy," she repeats, the idea of happiness a far-off dream. She'd like to be happy. Happy without the backdrop of sorrow that had firmly placed there when her name had been called that fateful day.
"And you!" She tells him, "a father! You'll be so good! So kind and patient." Just like he'd been with her, with Mags, with the trainees.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"It does." He's not particularly attached to his name, and really, it might be a burden lifted to cut his associations with his public identity. Finnick Odair is for the rich to consume. Finnick Cresta is for her alone.
A family. A family. Not just their little group of Victors, but small humans who would take after them, who they could raise and shape all their own, without the terrible interference of the Games. It's a hope beyond hopes, a pipe dream, and yet when it makes Annie beam like that, he can't possibly deny the dream to either of them.
"A little boy... Or girl... Or both..." Finnick can't even decide what he would want more. He'd teach them to swim, to fish, they could live on the beach, live a simple life.
"Oh, Annie..." Tears fill his eyes as he squeezes her close again. These hopes are foolish and he knows it, but after the horrible few months they've had, he can't help but indulge in some joy.
no subject
Turns out, mad girls didn't make for good Victors, because you couldn't control them any more than they could control themselves. They didn't understand the way others did, what would happen if they stepped out of line. So they had to be taught another way. A visit of a few peacemakers in the middle of the night, the noise of a hovercraft rising above the waves. Careful words aimed at the surviving child by a man who smelled too much like roses, even over the smell of salt.
She'd always wanted children. And to have them with Finnick?
She kisses the tip of his nose.
"Our family. No one can take it away. Just ours."
no subject
Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.
"They can grow up without all of that fear. They can be happy."
Not traumatized, not broken, like Finnick and Annie are. But...
"I think you'll be an amazing mother, Annie. Our children will never once question whether they're loved." He kisses her lips again.
one whole-ass novel later...
"And you!" She tells him, "a father! You'll be so good! So kind and patient." Just like he'd been with her, with Mags, with the trainees.
"And they'll never have to fear. Never."