argyle // avriel.

[✨ zozo.]

S.L.

"And I swear to God if I hear that y'all got into the Horowitz bull fields again there'll be trouble!"

Against her best judgement Saffron had let Quinn tag along to Avriel's District tour, a duty usually reserved for her brother. Truth be told she had been behaving herself, running about with Alex Pepperwood and the other kids from school with only the odd teenage rebellion here and there. And she'd been begging her for years, "I'm fourteen now Ma, c'mon!"

It was hard to explain to her child that her age was exactly why she had been so against the idea. Fourteen is a lightning-strike. A knife in her chest, a crushed skull, a maze and a forest and a great flood.

And then there was the fear, always the fear, of putting her children in any sort of spotlight in these formative years - but Enzo was an adult now, no ticking time bomb other than his own self-destructive tendencies. He always kept his sister in line, sometimes better than their parents ever could.

Saffron had been trying to be kinder on him - it wasn't that long ago that she was twenty-something and trying to navigate the world post-youth. District Four had been the best and worst thing for her son, and although she was sad to hear of Beck's retreat from Enzo's life she was secretly glad to have him home. Their house had become nothing but a body, and where Mace was the bones and Saffron lungs, Quinn a thinly-spread nervous system, Enzo was the heart. Home is where the heart is, so she was kinder to him. Kinder to them both. Trying to be more forgiving -- they're just kids, Mace would remind her gently. 

So she let them go. Didn't mean she couldn't send her children off in their Sunday best without a warning. 

Lo and behold they came back sans a telephone ringing to alert Saffron of trouble, Avriel Baptiste politely quiet and trailing behind them and their crowd of photographers and Capitol cavalry. Saffron watched from the porch as they trailed up the hill to the Victor's Village, colourful characters peeling off one by one until it was just her children and Avriel. He didn't seem to mind Quinn's babbling or Enzo's celebrity, watching her daughter point out trees and flower-beds they had planted that spring to spruce the village up. Even Ansgar's mailbox got a fresh coat of paint, forest green her daughter's choice. 

"Come on in now, get tidied up - and quickly!" she had called, ushering Quinn upstairs to brush her hair and change into less-muddied shoes. Enzo already knew the deal, muscle memory at this point. 

And then there was just Avriel in the entrance to her home. Solemn and a little broken, as all new victors were. Sad eyes that felt as wide as the ocean, children trying to learn how to live a brand new life with so much death in their head. 

"Welcome to our home Avriel, it's a pleasure to finally meet you" Saffron smiled, gesturing for the new victor to follow her as she treaded deeper into their home. 

"Mace will join us in a little while, please, have a seat" she explained as they reached the dining room, the sounds and smells of dinner crackling through the air. With all victors she felt an innate responsibility, and, in these more frequent years, so acutely aware of how young they are.

Flynn had been a shock to the system. All of the small ones are. But Avriel reminds her of folk from home, far too polite - quiet and tender, like he's just trying to survive this tour without bursting at the seams. Like he's holding himself together with thread for the sake of everyone else. 

And it aches like a bruise or a wound that will never heal when she looks at him. Young, so young. He'd had an alliance of girls, Ariel included - he'd looked after her the best he could until he couldn't look after her any longer. 

"Thank you," Saffron said quietly, under the gentle creaking of her children's footsteps upstairs. "For all that you did for Ariel. I know it can't--" and she stops herself there, words have never been easy. With time, she has learned that sometimes there's no need for words at all.

"Well, I think it goes unsaid."

A caterer pops his head around the corner to break the moment, apron paired with a cowboy hat and all, and nods that dinner will be ready in fifteen. Saffron smiles and nods back, "Thank you Reed, take y'alls time now" -- she's sounding more and more like her mother these days and it startles her how fast the years have gone by. 

She turns her attention back to Avriel and sighs gently. "I know you've probably had all the food in the world on your tour by now, but we like to keep it simple and local when we have y'all for dinner."

Taking a sip from her glass of water, a memory blooms and she smiles into the curve. 

"Flynn mentioned last year that he loves burgers - did he take you to his favourite spot? What was it called -- Dale's?"

She laughs softly and waits for Avriel.

ever since a little girl, i found it sweet
driving past a graveyard on a lonesome street
all the little flowers gave me something to believe in

[gamemaker kelsier]

a v r i e l .

"Up in my head
I'm the only one around
'Cause somehow
Everybody hates me now"

Existing alongside the Emberstatts feels separate, sort of like the way Avriel feels when he knows he's sleeping, like it isn't real.

The sun has started setting by the time they finally turn down the road to the Victor's Village. Cold winter light runs its fingers over the last dredges of the fall harvest in the fields and Avriel's knuckles are pink from the cold. He ambles along quietly just behind Quinn and Lorenzo, gaze sliding over the horizon briefly before looking ahead to the final stop on his District Ten tour.

Nerves run through him, a babbling stream over stone, drowning out the voices of his new friends. Three districts later and he's still not used to meeting Victors, but Saffron and Mace are old, old blood. They'd won their games years before he was born while he's only just turned eighteen.  

Maybe they'll poison his food for losing Ariel.

He stops for a breath and pushes his hands down into his pockets to warm them up a little. The friendship bracelet gets caught and tugs gently at his wrist. He thinks about Ariel sitting there that first night, focused on the weaving.

Then her body laying still, rain running down her cheek and the sound of a cannon over fathomless eyes.

"See that one Avriel? Those are willows!"

Avriel blinks and focuses on Quinn standing in the road pointing excitedly at a row of trees. Their boughs reach up into a high arc and the branches fall to kiss the earth below. "Peaceful," he answers, softly. The foliage makes a natural sort of hiding spot.

They leave Avriel's entourage behind at the entrance to Victor's Village except Scout stays with Avriel this time. The little Kodama's been sleeping in the pocket of his jacket for the last half hour. He reaches a hand in as Lorenzo and Quinn lead him further down the road to their home and Scout grabs onto his finger briefly in support before letting go again.

A house comes into view, warm light glowing in the windows, solitary against the setting sun. As they get closer, Avriel can make out a figure waiting for their arrival on the porch. An uneasy feeling sits heavy in his stomach but he doesn't stop walking because he knows that feeling is separate from reality.

Saffron Lowe's features come into focus as they draw closer. She's a pretty woman, the baby fat on her cheeks from her promotional posters is gone and laughter lines have begun to form. When she turns to usher Quinn and Lorenzo into the house, Avriel sees a gentleness in her movement.

He follows them inside silently, feeling out of place. The layout is pretty much the same as his brand new house in Nine, except for the feel of it. There are scuff marks and scratches on the wooden floors, pictures on the walls.

This is a family home.

"Thanks for having me," he responds automatically to Saffron's greeting, "Your home's real nice." Gloria'd practically written a script for him tonight but Avriel'd already forgotten half the shit she'd told him to say.

He follows Saffron into the dining room and sits where he's told. She tells him that Mace will be around shortly and Avriel tries to relax, really, he does. It'd be easier though if he was at home, sitting in his own dining room with Billie and Duke, pretending that he doesn't notice them watching him.

"Thank you."

Don't.

She brings it up so gently that for a moment, it almost feels like a balm to think of Ariel.

Then Saffron looks at him and her eyes are so damned sad and knowing, she looks at him like he's still dying, like she can see a wound on his skin that the others can't. Avriel looks away sharply, palms flat on his thighs, fingers digging slightly into the fabric of his pants. Ariel on the beach, not breathing, empty gaze trained on the sky, Avriel frozen in shock, Areto silent and Love leaving, bloody.

And for a second, Avriel was relieved because he didn't have to worry about surviving her anymore, Love had taken care of that for him.

Repulsive.

But the grief, the grief, the grief.

"She was a good friend," he says after a long moment, "Kind when she shouldn't have been."

She'd trusted too easily, she'd trusted him. He grimaces slightly and stares down at the empty plate in front of him as Saffron confers with someone called Reed.

'Y'all'

That accent again, so sweet. Avriel shuts his eyes for a second and all he smells is the mud and the stink of sweat and blood. His pocket moves, Scout rummaging for something, probably the peppermint that he'd dropped in there earlier in the day. It's enough to bring Avriel back to catch the tail end of Saffron's words.

"Dale's," he echoes. Avriel can't quite look at her, sometimes he has that. He stares a little past Saffron instead and curls his hands into fists in his lap. "You don't got to worry too much about me, I'm not fancy," Avriel says, "Duke– he's my little brother– says I'm basically a black hole when it comes to food– I'll eat anything."

Avriel goes quiet again and that isn't so bad. He can hear Lorenzo and Quinn walking around upstairs and the muffled sounds from the kitchen in the other room. When Saffron places her glass back down on the table, there's a blunt little noise and all of these things help to ground Avriel the littlest bit.

"You must have done a lot of dinners like these already, right?" he asks finally, "You got a nice life here. Why you got someone like me interrupting it?"