All credit is due to the author of The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins. I have several original characters, but if the name sounds familiar, it likely isn't mine. Enjoy.
Rye Katona was always exhausted these days. He couldn't wait to make it home. His skin still itched from the eczema caused by the tropical arena's fierce humidity, and the angry red patches that had marred his skin had only receded when the Capitol had granted him a perfect complexion upon becoming a victor. Finally, the fanfare was winding to a close, and Rye boarded the train for the short ride home. The makeup still on in anticipation for his arrival back in District 2, he wanted only to forget his time in the arena. His first goal upon returning home would be to convince his parents that Strate should not volunteer. Strate was younger than Rye by less than a year, and was favored to win his Games even faster than than his two older brothers.
"Really good," Enobaria had commented to him, since his official mentor, Brutus, had essentially ignored his duties, preferring to live up his status as an older victor. Lyme had been gracious enough to mentor both him and his now dead peer Septima Yule. She even, rumor had it, overruled some of Brutus's decisions in managing sponsored gifts.
A lanky avox approached him, and switched on the viewing screen before him. Rye sat up straighter, unaware what was about to happen. A surprise interview? He was supposed to be done, aside from the welcoming festival. A white-haired president's face appeared, and Rye stopped breathing.
"President Snow, this is a surprise," Rye spoke cautiously. His older brother Cadfael, a victor from two years previous, had warned him that any contact with Snow outside the public eye was dangerous.
Rye, his mother and father sat in their parlour at Number 7, Victor's Village. The three of them were tense as they watched the eldest Katona son pace the room.
"You need to contact Lyme," Cadfael said at last, fixing Rye with a steely look. "Tell her what happened. She'll get you back into contact with the President and you'll apologize, profusely," he emphasized, "and tell him you'll do it." Cadfael, now twenty, was still conditioned, and had shouldered much of the responsibilities of the household while their father had been ill.
"No, what he's asking is wrong," Rye contradicted his older brother. Their family was close, but there was no way he'd let his brother bully him into obeying Snow's demands.
"He's not asking!" Cadfael thundered, the vein in his forehead showing. "I tried to refuse Snow, and guess what happened? He caused Uncle Tinder's and Aunt Domitia's so-called accident." He expected his father Flint to react more, to rage and for his mother Amber to slap him for his audacity to bring the subject up. Amber and Aunt Domitia had been best friends growing up. Instead, there was silence. Rye's eyes found Cadfael's, and his eyes bored into Cadfael's before shifting to something, someone, behind him. Cadfael turned to find his youngest brother, Strate, and the young cousins Emmer, Copper and Clove standing in the doorway, having returned from school. Strate simply stood, looking at his parents and two older brothers. The cousins, orphans, for the past year, had looks of shock and confusion on their faces. The oldest, Emmer, had figured out the dynamics and had gone pale. Copper's face was as stoic as ever while her twin, Clove's, complexion was becoming flushed at the news, darkening her smattering of freckles. Cadfael felt shame weigh down in his stomach, but he had a duty. He strode over to the door of the parlour and shut it without ceremony.
Strate recovered rather quickly and ushered the young cousins back out the door they came in. He grabbed a pail for each and set off to collect enough blueberries to make a pie that evening. District 2 did not have fences, since the Capitol had determined that the rough wilderness with extreme seasons would keep any discontented shackled to Panem. This wasn't so much a concern, because while some in District 2 were rumored to be rebels, the overall population did quite well. The games would take far fewer children each year than natural events like rock falls. Most ordinary citizens lived in either the main city, or else numbered mining towns. The Victor's Village sat at the edge and faced the main city to the south, with its back to the forested wilderness that hitched upward with the mountains.
Still in the parlour, Cadfael refocused on Rye. "You never stop being a Victor," Cadfael started again. "You might not be called to serve in the same way as Finnick or me." It was an empty maybe, and everyone knew it. But what choice did they have? "Call Lyme this moment. She should be home."
"Why didn't they tell us Mom and Dad were killed?" Copper asked. The four of them sat on a hillside overlooking the Victor's Village in the distance, and the city beyond it. They had collected four full pails of berries had decided to snack on some before returning home.
"Does it matter? Snow killed them." Clove deadpanned, stabbing a passing beatle with her pocketknife.
"You were going to be told," Strate said, though he nor his cousins believed his words. "But you're all young, still, and we decided we would wait."
"What were they arguing about, though?" Emmer asked. This Strate didn't know, and he said so. He rubbed his shirt over the head of his pick-axe. He was a career, but there were two others in the running for being a potential tribute. They all desperately wanted to represent the district next year. In case their trainers chose a particular tribute, the other potential tributes wouldn't have to catch up in either school or experience in the quarries and mines. Strate had just come from his shift at the quarry, and had picked his cousins up from school.
"Let's get back," Strate stood up and took up his pail. The sun was dipping low over the mountains, painting the sky a brilliant blend of oranges which blurred into purples and finally black to the east. It was late summer but the altitude pushed the temperatures down, and this was no place for the twins Copper and Clove, who were still small for their age at twelve, or even Emmer, who had gained almost all of his height at fourteen, but was gangly. Even with his pickax, his cousins wouldn't be a match for the local wolf packs and bears.
Upon entering the house, Strate funneled the younger children through the entrance hall and into the kitchen. Soon, Copper and Emmer had split the dough and were kneading it, spreading it. Clove had been truly gifted with baking, but seemed to be uninterested in it that night. Once the three were sufficiently occupied, Strate returned to the parlour and found his older brothers and parents waiting by the phone, for a return call. A moment later, it rang.
Strate sat, and all eyes bored into Rye as he picked up the phone. Exchanged pleasantries with the President. Apologized to him. Showed every grace he had shown Caesar Flickerman and Panem during his time as a tribute. Brightened and thanked the president with profuse compliments. Everyone sighed with relief, none of them aware that it hadn't mattered. Snow had made his decision hours before, and would not change his orders.
The Katona family was rapidly gaining recognition as one of the most famous families in Panem. They had successfully had Victor after Victor. Their grandfather, Thorburn Katona had been a victor years earlier, and had died the year Cadfael ascended to become a victor. Now the family's prestige was at an all-time high as Panem watched the Katona's third son interview for the Games. Like his brothers, he was the picture of the Katona family. His frame was long, filled with nothing but muscle, and his body consisted of long lines. His hair was dark, teeth straight and white, eyes wild. He was given an almost unheard of eleven for his display of ranged and close combat, coupled with raw force and stamina. He was the full package. While everyone knew anything could happen, they nonetheless staked everything on Strate.
In the 70th Annual Hunger Games, the final eight were left. Strate had fallen to neither the elements nor his peers. He was pitted against two other tributes with family victors, yet everyone knew that unless he contracted some disease, his victory was assured. Back in District Two's capital, the Katona family gathered in the living room, their reactions safely hidden from cameras. There were seven left, and the Katona family continued to exude their trademark confidently stoic presence, even in privacy. The arena flooded, and the arena turned into an endless pool of sorts. Cadfael frowned, slightly. Three left. Strate could, clumsily, swim, and continued to survive. The Katonas maintained their composure. Two left. And then Annie Cresta won the games and became victor.
Flint and Amber Katona grew stiff. Cadfael took another sip of his wine. Strate's young cousins had checked out, and stared through unseeing eyes. Rye scraped his chair back and tried to find something to do. The mail had come that morning, but everyone had ignored it, waiting to watch the end of the games, when the Katonas watched their child drown. There was an envelope with the Capitol seal for Rye. Opening it, he was assaulted with the stench of roses. Rye felt his heart skip a beat.
On behalf of both myself and all of Panem, I would like to offer my condolences to your loss. The contributions the Katona family has made throughout the years pales to the self sacrifices that they have made. All of Panem knows of the Katona family's honor.
Your service has been invaluable this past year, and I look forward to future years of your service to the nation.
Signed, Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem.
The dance hall was crammed with tables of delicacies, and President Snow was seen mingling here and there. Cadfael placed one of his hands on Rye's shoulder. Neither could be present in District Two for their eldest cousin's reaping. Both had been tied to the Capitol with various assignments from Snow, though they would get to see their cousin arrive in the Capitol.
On the screen, the family's last boy, Emmer, had stepped up to the platform. He shared the family's traits, and behind them, Cadfael and Rye heard much swooning and chattering from the Capitol's citizens. Emmer's fellow tribute, Charm, was almost as tall as Emmer, denoting her expansive size and deftness. This year was destined to be like many before it; District Two was a particularly strong contender, judging by the tributes from Three, who were, even for non-careers, mediocre at best. It was good that the reapings were in order. It was still midmorning and Rye had grown tired of the hall. Rye turned to find the blood-breathed President standing just beside him.
"Ah, the incorruptible Katona brothers," President Snow beamed. "I thought I might have a word with you." Mutely, Cadfael and Rye followed him into a side room. "Close the door, if you would," the president spoke calmly. Rye complied and the raucous merrymaking was instantly reduced to a quiet murmur. "Now, how are you two enjoying the reaping party?" The brothers did not need to look at each other. Instead, Cadfael took the lead.
"It's even bigger than last year. I heard Majoris Ballyregan complimenting the spread, and we all know how much he eats before he's satisfied." Snow nodded, a small smile touching his lips.
"Now, I am sure you are both wondering why I have called you away from the festivities. I still have not gotten over the loss of your brother two years ago, such a long and drawn out way to go. I was not aware Strate would be such a strong swimmer." President Snow let his last comment hang in the air. The commentators had pulled up clips from both Cadfael and Rye's games, and even dug back into the archives to their grandfather Thorburn. There wasn't much to be seen in Thorburn's arena, but it had been confirmed in Cadfael's and Rye's clips. Both their arenas had involved some swimming. Though the vast majority of viewers were none the wiser, Snow had seen what all else were blind to. Strate's demise had confirmed a prevalent weakness in the Katona family. "I didn't expect him to last as long as he did." Snow continued, ignoring the discomfort of the brothers, "Tell me, neither of you knew how to swim for your games, so you must have ensured Strate knew how. Who's idea was that?" A beat.
"Mine," Cadfael offered. "We went to a nearby stream and taught him." The president nodded, his eyes never leaving the brothers.
"I'll cut to the chase, shall I?" He took a sip of his tea, a bite of his cake. "I am satisfied that the pair of you are willing to protect your families, correct?" A nod. For the past three, Rye had complied without hesitation. Cadfael would be starting his fifth year. "He's the eldest brother. I hear he's quite protective over his sisters. If I let Emmer play the games without interference, would he do the same?"
"Yes," Rye had no hesitation. Emmer knew the stakes.
"Excellent. Then I'll be fascinated to see what happens." They were ushered out of the room. After another hour of mingling, they retreated to the side of the room. Poor Annie Cresta had been unable to refuse the invitation to the Capitol. Another reminder of Strate's fate, and of Cadfael and Rye's inability to protect him. This was her first public appearance since her victory. She gave them a haunted look.
"You all look so related." Annie's voice was meek, and no one really knew what to say. Annie, lost in her own world, wandered off.
"Think he'll actually sit back and just watch?" Rye asked.
"Doubt it. He's already meddled." Johanna Mason, the previous year's victor, broke in with her characteristically blunt attitude. The brothers rounded on her, and she pointed to the nearest screen, which was settled onto the table, surrounded by food. Caesar Flickerman and Hunger Games analyst Lartius Baxol were deliberating on the breaking news.
"Now, this has yet to be confirmed," Flickerman opened, his face arranged in an officious mask, "but there are reports surfacing that one of the tributes has been rushed to the medical car of their train. Now, only Districts One through Five have had their reapings, and Five's train has only left the station a couple of minutes ago, so it is likely that the reports refer to one of the boys or girls from One through Four. What do you make of this, Lartius?" The man was dressed elegantly, and sported a bright purple and black suit to match his purple and white hair, obtaining a considerable clash of colors.
"It could mean anything, really, Caesar," Lartius responded. "Perhaps it is nerves, likely from tributes from Three, or maybe food poisoning. I did hear reports that one of the water mains in District One showed an unusually high measure of various impurities. Regardless, this report has the potential to greatly alter how sponsors make decisions."
"We'll be right back, after a brief commercial break." Caesar concluded. Which meant that they'd be back in another hour or so, because of all of the commercials they had to get through. Cadfael and Rye stared at each other. What more could they do, neither could think. So Rye set his glass on an Avox's tray and crowded around the screens with the rest of the horde, waiting for new information.