one last souvenir from my trip to your shores [stella]
Aug 31, 2024 21:11:10 GMT -5
Post by alex 🐺 on Aug 31, 2024 21:11:10 GMT -5
If someone had told her years ago, as she dragged her battering and bleeding body out of the Arena that she would be sitting on the floor of the dusty home that had been gifted to her nearly twenty years ago with two five years kicking up dusty bunnies in the designer outfits from their other mother, she would have told them to go fuck themselves. Probably not in so many words and certainly not with that coarse of language. But her sentiments would have been that the person speaking those words was deranged, psychotic, or both. Because girls from Twelve don't get the fairytale. They don't get the money, the mansion, the family that Stella had dreamed about for so long.
They don't get much other than a short life and an even longer death.
She had been lucky. She wasn't meant to survive, to wear the crown of thorns that she can still feel nineteen years later (barbs and all). She was damaged goods, was still damaged goods, and as Lux drops into her lap, burrowing her sweaty face into her neck, Stella inhales her daughter's scent and feels a moment of peace. Because Twelve had made her, the Arena had forged her in fire and ice, and the Capitol had claimed her.
Ex was back home, was most likely in some meeting with some source trying to wheedle information about the 98th Games out of them, while Stella sat packing up the last of her things from the Victor's Village. It was still her home, would always be her home (in name only because Twelve stopped feeling like home the moment her lips had touched Ex's), but the Village had grown in the last two years with Marik's victory and she had delayed long enough.
Bringing Lively and Lux was an argument that Stella wasn't sure she had won, but wasn't sure she had lost either. Ex knew that it was provincial, coming back here. That it would bring up a lot - memories and feelings and way too much. That Twelve would always be beneath her and their family, but it had been home to Stella for sixteen years and even a few after everything, and closing this final chapter felt...final. It felt like the end.
Twelve had haunted her and still did. Twelve would always haunt her.
She avoided most events in Capitol that involved the Games now, save for a few that she knew she couldn't get out of. And even with Ex on her arm, they were nearly unbearable. With Marik as an understudy and Nico as the heir apparent, Stella had made his ascension all but final, begging away from the pomp and circumstance with poor excuses that rang false to her ears. But she had done her time. She would be paying for it for the rest of her life.
As it was, she knew she was a traitor to Twelve. People avoided her when the train carrying her from the Capitol rolled into the station. When her foot hit the dirt and two tiny hands fit so well into hers as she tugged them along, telling them quietly about all of the places that she knew so well, eyes darted away from hers and barely lingered on the girls. She was the black sheep, which coming from people literally covered in dirt and grime, it was almost comical. But Twelve was all they knew, all they had ever known. She couldn't blame them.
A sigh escapes her lips as Lux barrels after her sister, running up the stairs to jump on one of the many beds. Stella stands, her knees protesting the motion, dusting off her pants and biting her lips. A team would be by later and boxes would be sealed and that would be that.
There wasn't anything more for her here. She hadn't stopped by her Dad's grave this time. She couldn't yet bring herself to go there. Maybe another time...
Her phone rings and its a wonder that she even gets reception here, but she had one guess as to who was calling. If there was anyone in Panem that could find her - she sees Ex's name on the screen and as she touches it to connect the call, her stomach swoops like it always has when talking to her wife. The butterflies had never truly gone away.
"Hey you, no, we're nearly done here. Yeah, I think I got everything. The shipping company will finish the rest and it will all go into storage. You're right - it's about time. No, they haven- yeah, they're a bit dirty, but they're kids, babe. Nothing a good bath tonight won't fix. Yeah, yeah, we'll be home when you get there." Ex laughs into the phone and tells Stella that it's going to be another late night, and Stella can see it now, her wife striding quietly into their room, shedding her armor and everything that made her impenetrable to all but Stella and the girls, her lips finding the spot under Stella's ear to whisper absolutely sinful things that no one should say to their sleeping wife after midnight.
"I know. I love you too," Stella says, ending the call and slipping the phone back into her pocket. She sighs again, twirling around and watching the dust catch in the light from the window.
"Girls, you ready?" she calls up the stairs, two blonde heads whipping around the corner in unison, streaks of dirt on their cheeks.
"Let's go home."
They don't get much other than a short life and an even longer death.
She had been lucky. She wasn't meant to survive, to wear the crown of thorns that she can still feel nineteen years later (barbs and all). She was damaged goods, was still damaged goods, and as Lux drops into her lap, burrowing her sweaty face into her neck, Stella inhales her daughter's scent and feels a moment of peace. Because Twelve had made her, the Arena had forged her in fire and ice, and the Capitol had claimed her.
Ex was back home, was most likely in some meeting with some source trying to wheedle information about the 98th Games out of them, while Stella sat packing up the last of her things from the Victor's Village. It was still her home, would always be her home (in name only because Twelve stopped feeling like home the moment her lips had touched Ex's), but the Village had grown in the last two years with Marik's victory and she had delayed long enough.
Bringing Lively and Lux was an argument that Stella wasn't sure she had won, but wasn't sure she had lost either. Ex knew that it was provincial, coming back here. That it would bring up a lot - memories and feelings and way too much. That Twelve would always be beneath her and their family, but it had been home to Stella for sixteen years and even a few after everything, and closing this final chapter felt...final. It felt like the end.
Twelve had haunted her and still did. Twelve would always haunt her.
She avoided most events in Capitol that involved the Games now, save for a few that she knew she couldn't get out of. And even with Ex on her arm, they were nearly unbearable. With Marik as an understudy and Nico as the heir apparent, Stella had made his ascension all but final, begging away from the pomp and circumstance with poor excuses that rang false to her ears. But she had done her time. She would be paying for it for the rest of her life.
As it was, she knew she was a traitor to Twelve. People avoided her when the train carrying her from the Capitol rolled into the station. When her foot hit the dirt and two tiny hands fit so well into hers as she tugged them along, telling them quietly about all of the places that she knew so well, eyes darted away from hers and barely lingered on the girls. She was the black sheep, which coming from people literally covered in dirt and grime, it was almost comical. But Twelve was all they knew, all they had ever known. She couldn't blame them.
A sigh escapes her lips as Lux barrels after her sister, running up the stairs to jump on one of the many beds. Stella stands, her knees protesting the motion, dusting off her pants and biting her lips. A team would be by later and boxes would be sealed and that would be that.
There wasn't anything more for her here. She hadn't stopped by her Dad's grave this time. She couldn't yet bring herself to go there. Maybe another time...
Her phone rings and its a wonder that she even gets reception here, but she had one guess as to who was calling. If there was anyone in Panem that could find her - she sees Ex's name on the screen and as she touches it to connect the call, her stomach swoops like it always has when talking to her wife. The butterflies had never truly gone away.
"Hey you, no, we're nearly done here. Yeah, I think I got everything. The shipping company will finish the rest and it will all go into storage. You're right - it's about time. No, they haven- yeah, they're a bit dirty, but they're kids, babe. Nothing a good bath tonight won't fix. Yeah, yeah, we'll be home when you get there." Ex laughs into the phone and tells Stella that it's going to be another late night, and Stella can see it now, her wife striding quietly into their room, shedding her armor and everything that made her impenetrable to all but Stella and the girls, her lips finding the spot under Stella's ear to whisper absolutely sinful things that no one should say to their sleeping wife after midnight.
"I know. I love you too," Stella says, ending the call and slipping the phone back into her pocket. She sighs again, twirling around and watching the dust catch in the light from the window.
"Girls, you ready?" she calls up the stairs, two blonde heads whipping around the corner in unison, streaks of dirt on their cheeks.
"Let's go home."
