A Hollow Victory, a hunger games fanfic

Disclaimer: Hunger Games does not in any way belong to me, it's the property of Suzanne Collins, etc.

I dunno, I'm kind of on a Career tribute roll, or something. First that story about Gloss, and now this. My interpretation of Enobaria, so she might be a bit OOC. I think that she has so little page time that my interpretation stays pretty true to her character though.

a (hollow?) victory

Enobaria is five in her first real memory of the Games. She watches as Brutus Clout beheads her older sister, Angioa, with a slash of his sword during the dissolution of the Career Alliance. He goes on to win, of course, and returns victorious to District Two.

(She decides that she is going to kill him.)

Enobaria is seven when she finally convinces Lyme to train her. Lyme teaches her how to throw a knife, how to kill a person with her bare hands, how to be strong. Lyme teaches her etiquette, how to lie flawlessly, how to act like someone she's not.

If you win the Games, you'll definitely need to know that, Lyme snaps one day, frustrated at the apathy she displays towards anything not related to killing, specifically in how to act like a 'lady'.

Then I'll learn, since I'm definitely going to win, Enobaria declares, and she does.

(She has always believed that she can do anything, if she puts her mind to it.)

Enobaria is ten when she officially enters 'Career Training'. There is a Training Center funded by the District's government, where any eligible children in District Two may go to receive training. Ostensibly it is for those who wish to become Peacekeepers when they are old enough, but everyone knows it is really for training the so-called 'Career Tributes'.

She has a considerable advantage, since she has already been trained by Lyme for the last three years, but there are others who have convinced past victors to train them too.

So Enobaria keeps to herself, displays some proficiency at the skills the instructors teach them – enough to earn praise like you're a natural! or you've got a lot of promise – but not enough to be the best, because the best are the ones that everyone loves to hate, and she knows better than to fall into that trap.

The rest of the girls in her year are as civil as can be expected, considering they are all being trained to murder twenty-three other children. Enobaria doesn't make any friends; Lyme is the closest thing she has to a friend, really. She spends all of her time with the victor anyway.

She learns how to track, how to start a fire, how to climb... Knives remain her best weapon, though she makes sure that she is at least competent with the other main weapons; swords, spears, etc.

(She doesn't make the top-ranked trainee, but she makes sure that she is in the top five.)

Enobaria is fourteen the first time she kills another person. She has been training for it for almost half of her life, and her body reacts instinctively, the long knife merely an extension of her arm. There is some resistance – though not as much as there would be if this was a practice dummy – and then the girl, one of her year mates, is staggering back.

The girl clutches vainly at her neck, hands slipping in the blood, as if that will somehow stem the bleeding gash. Panic is obvious in the girl's hazel eyes, obvious in the way choking sounds escape blood-stained lips, obvious in the way those hazel eyes dart about desperately, hopelessly.

She watches as the girl sinks to the gymnasium floor, watches the girl's hazel eyes go blank. After the girl finally stops trying to breathe, the room is silent. All of the trainees, the instructors, are silent; a stark contrast to the usual clamour of training.

And that, a boy two years younger than her says sarcastically, is how you kill another person.

Enobaria glances at the speaker. Her eyes narrow; he looks so familiar. Marcus Clout, she thinks. Brutus' younger – and only – brother.

She smiles, little more than a baring of her teeth, at him. She will kill him too, when she gets the chance.

(She kills her year mate because the girl said her sister was a failure; Angioa was not – is not – a failure.)

Enobaria is sixteen when she wins the right to volunteer for the Sixty-Second Hunger Games. Every year, the volunteers are decided upon beforehand, through a series of tournament-style, one-on-one matches. The final is a free-for-all between the five remaining trainees, to simulate a situation comparable to the inevitable split of the Career Alliance in the real Games.

Ever since Enobaria killed that girl two years ago, the other trainees have avoided her, but this suits her just fine. If she'd known killing someone would be all it took to get others to avoid her entirely, she would have committed murder long before that.

The downside to this isolation from her peers is that three of the other girls in the final decide to gang up on her to eliminate her first; she is the biggest threat, after all. There was really no point in maintaining the facade of anything less than the best, after she killed that hazel-eyed girl.

What the trio fails to consider is the fifth participant, who incapacitates one of their number. While the other two are distracted, Enobaria viciously hamstrings one of them. The third, caught between her and the remaining girl, wisely forfeits; there is still another year of eligibility for her yet, and there's no need to waste it by fighting a lost battle.

She and the other girl – blonde, an unusual characteristic in District Two – circle each other warily. Enobaria has a pair of long knives in her hands, and several more in sheathes on her belt; the other girl wields a spear.

(She has always been a dead aim when it comes to throwing knives.)

Enobaria is sixteen when she volunteers for the Hunger Games. Her male counterpart was mysteriously injured the day before and thus will be unable to volunteer. It's not exactly an unusual occurrence, jealous rival have made a practice of eliminating the selected trainee for a certain year, but she honestly has no idea who will step up to take his place this time; the other four finalists were seriously injured, and she idly wonders if the reaped male tribute will actually have to attend the Games this year.

She can't remember such a thing ever happening, in District Two.

I volunteer, Enobaria says coolly, the perfect mixture of haughtiness and deadly. Enobaria Rigid, she introduces herself when she stands on the stage. She gives the cameras a short nod, then turns her gaze to the crowd of assembled children.

The escort reads out the name of the male tribute.

I volunteer! a boy shouts, shoving his way out of the fifteen year old group.

Enobaria's gaze flicks to the speaker. Of course it's Marcus Clout.

Attaboy! Brutus says approvingly, somewhere behind her with the rest of the victors.

She grits her teeth, has to work not to clench her hands into fists; it won't do to make a scene, in front of all of Panem – then again, rivalries are often popular, among the Capitol.

(She smiles coldly, her hand completely limp in his grasp as Marcus stupidly tries to crush her hand in his grip.)

So, Enobaria. You got a ten in training – that's quite impressive. Better than your sister's eight, for sure, Flickerman says, starting the ball rolling on her interview.

She stares at him, it's almost a glare, but Lyme has told her that Flickerman always tries to help the tributes out.

I don't intend to follow in her footsteps, if that's what you're asking, she replies, shrugging slightly. Even that small motion is restricted by the ridiculously tight dress her stylist put her in, but Lyme insists that he knows what he is doing, so Enobaria goes along with it.

You're going to win? Flickerman asks, one lime green eyebrow arching up.

Of course. And I'm going to get my revenge too.

Your revenge?

In that moment, Enobaria hates the Capitol; but why would anyone in the opulent, indulgent city pay attention to the losers?

Clout killed my sister in the Forty-Ninth Hunger Games. I figure it's only fair to return the favour, she clarifies coolly.

Ah... Any strategies that you want to share? Flickerman asks, skirting effortlessly around the issue.

Why explain, when I can show you all in a few days? she asks in a return, a genuine smirk settling on her features.

So what will you do once you win the Games?

Find a way to kill Brutus, she thinks. She doesn't say that. Instead, Enobaria shrugs and says, The same thing every victor does, I guess... Celebrate my birthday; it's only eighteen days away.

The buzzer rings, signalling that her interview is over. Enobaria passes beside Marcus as she returns to her seat.

(She meets his eyes, but he looks away after a second; and is that the slightest bit of fear that she detects in his gaze?)

Enobaria turns seventeen the day she wins the Sixty-Second Hunger Games.

(She rips out a fifteen year old boy's throat with her teeth, and relishes the look of absolute hatred that Brutus sends her way when she returns to the Capitol.)

Enobaria is nineteen when she gets her teeth surgically altered; sharpened to deadly points and plated with gold.

She thought that it would deter the disgusting men who continually paid to fuck her – and it did, for a time. Then the ones with even more depraved, sickening tastes set their sights on her.

(She no longer believes she can do anything, if she sets her mind to it; altering her teeth was only the last in a long line of attempts to escape her slavery, and when that only makes the situation worse, she stops trying – and Snow doesn't let her return them to normal, either.)

Enobaria is twenty-two the first time Brutus dares to buy her for a night. He isn't even the most brutal of her lovers, but his identity renders the whole experience that much more degrading and unbearable. If she hadn't been tied up, spread wide for him, she would have killed him, but she is, so she doesn't.

Brutus leaves before she does, and she has to entertain two other 'clients' before she is allowed to return to District Two.

When she gets back, Brutus' arm is in a sling, there are twelve stitches across his forehead and he is walking with a pronounced limp. Lyme and a few others of their fellow victors have minor injuries, black eyes and split lips, but nothing major.

He doesn't so much as lay a finger on her again.

(She almost regrets it, because she loses that excuse to kill him – but it's only almost though; and the next year, Cashmere of District One wins the Games, and she is mercifully forgotten by the Capitol.)

Enobaria is twenty-eight when she mentors Clove; the girl is similar to herself – deadly with knives, smart – though she doubts that Clove would ever rip out her District partner's throat. If anything, it seems that Cato and Clove are in love, or at least attracted to each other.

She isn't sure if it's an act or not, but between them and the pair from District Twelve, the rules are changed for the first time in history.

She watches as Katniss Everdeen kills Marvel, then covers Rue's body in flowers. Then she watches as the little nobody from District Twelve is saved by Thresh, watches as her tribute dies, killed by a rock, of all things.

Without any further obligation to remain in the mentors' room, Enobaria leaves to return to the more comfortable television room on the second floor. It's not that she wants to watch the Games, she can't really care either way, but not watching could be taken the wrong way by the Capitol government, and she doesn't want to draw any unwanted attention to herself.

Enobaria watches Katniss put Cato out of his misery, eyes widening slightly when the pair of tributes from District Twelve pull out the nightlock berries – they must have no idea what they're doing, but then most tributes don't quite understand what the Games really are.

(She thinks that Katniss is dangerous; not because she killed four Careers, but because the way she won will definitely be interpreted as a threat by President Snow – and she wonders how long it will take Snow to get rid of her, how he will accomplish it.)

Enobaria is twenty-nine when she gets the answer to her question, when she gets reaped for the first time. She strides up to the stage, reminded of the cynical girl who was idealistic yet so convinced that she was jaded, and stands rigidly behind the escort. She knows that no one is going to volunteer this year, for either herself or the male victor that is about to be picked.

The escort reads his name; it's one of the first victors District Two ever had, a decrepit old man who seems resigned as he begins to ascend to the stage –

I volunteer!

And it's like Enobaria's back before the Sixty-Second Games, shocked – but not so much as batting an eyelash outwardly – as a Clout arrogantly makes his way to the stage to stand beside her.

Brutus snarls at her as he tries to crush her hand when they shake. She bares her teeth back, viciously digging her nails into his hand.

(She won't hesitate to rip his throat out too if she gets the chance.)

Enobaria is thirty when the rebels leave her behind. She was standing beside Finnick, but they still leave her behind. They fucking leave her for the Capitol to take.

The Peacekeepers sedate her, Johanna and Peeta – the boy who robbed her of her revenge, who killed Brutus.

(She doesn't kill Brutus because Katniss and Peeta and the rest of them need to be eliminated before she can focus on her grudge with Brutus; perhaps if she had killed him, the rebels would have taken her too, and she can't stop bitterly returning to this thought.)

Enobaria has lost all sense of time when Snow enters her cell to tell her the news: Johanna and Peeta and Annie have been rescued by the rebels.

They left her behind, again.

She has not been tortured like Johanna and Peeta have been – Snow made her watch a few sessions to remind Enobaria of her tenuous position – because she was not a rebel. But the fact remains that she stood by while Finnick, Katniss and Beetee escaped; and for that, she was – and still is being – punished.

The only torture that has been inflicted upon her is the selling of her body, and her isolation in this featureless cell of a room. Sometimes she is left alone for so long that she feels like she is going to go insane, and it tears her apart that, when another client walks in casually, she actually feels relieved because she knows that she isn't alone, hasn't been forgotten to die alone and unremembered.

Apparently satisfied by the way Enobaria's already inexpressive face blanks completely as despair fills her, Snow leaves her alone. A client enters a few minutes later.

(She hates how absurdly, disgustingly grateful she feels when she realizes that her own punishment will not be increased because of Peeta and Johanna's defiance and escape.)

Enobaria learns that she is thirty-one when Lyme and a squad of rebels from District Two break her out; Lyme tells her the date, and she realizes that her birthday has already passed. It feels like it should have been longer, between the eternities of isolation and the seemingly endless stream of clients, but it has only been little over a year since she entered that damned tropical arena.

The group is disguised as Peacekeepers, and Enobaria is completely surprised when it turns out that they are rebels, led by Lyme. She had assumed that the rebels were more confident – they rescued Peeta and Johanna and Annie, after all – but she had no idea that they were strong enough to invade the Capitol itself, with the intent to capture it.

Happy belated birthday, Lyme says dryly, handing her a rifle.

Enobaria smiles for what feel like the first time in forever. What took you so long? she asks, trying to mimic the way the other rebels are clutching their weapons. Strangely, she wishes for the familiar comfort of a knife.

Lyme chuckles, then they all fall silent as they escape the confines of the prison and travel cautiously through the seemingly-deserted streets of the Capitol.

It might have been a combination of being out in the fresh air, of smelling smoke and blood, and seeing the grayish-blue sky, and being in the company of one of the few people she trusts – perhaps even loves – but Enobaria foolishly thinks that she is safe.

Then they round a corner, Lyme in the lead, and a squad of rebels opens fire.

Lyme goes down, along with a few other insignificant people that she hardly notices, before they can convince the others that they are allies.

(She doesn't get left behind again, but she feels like she leaves a large part of herself behind with Lyme's corpse.)

Enobaria is still thirty-one when she helps get the Hunger Games continued for one last year. She has a feeling that Peeta will want to discontinue them; personally, she has no opinion either way, but she votes against him because he robbed her of her revenge, and she has always held grudges.

Katniss also votes in favour of one final Hunger Games; Enobaria wonders if the girl knows what she is doing. The Mockingjay is supposed to be the symbol of the people, is supposed to represent everything that is good about the rebellion, but the truth is that everyone, even Capitol examples gone wrong, are imperfect and selfish.

Still, Enobaria knows Snow almost better than she knows herself; she knows that Snow would have escaped if he'd had a hovercraft to spare, knows that he would not have alienated his already second-guessing soldiers, so she knows that Coin must have been behind the bombing that killed Katniss' younger sister. And she knows that Coin is exactly the same as Snow.

Enobaria has never felt any loyalty to Snow or the Capitol, but after the rebels left her behind, twice, and killed Lyme, she feels nothing close to loyalty for that cause either, so she honestly does not care what the new order will resemble so long as she is left alone and in a position to kill Coin. She will avenge Lyme's death, even if it kills her; death does not scare Enobaria.

But someone as smart as Katniss and so much more invested in the development of a new, free country than Enobaria should recognize this, and she should care about what happens. She shouldn't support someone who intends to carry on with the old order.

Katniss seems oblivious, though, and Enobaria wonders if she is more naive than the older victor first took her for.

(She gets her answer when Katniss shoots Coin rather than Snow; and she smiles, for once not begrudging someone for stealing her chance for revenge.)

Enobaria is thirty-three when Gale Hawthorne and Johanna Mason move into the house next to hers in District Two's still-intact Victor's Village. They move into Brutus' old house, but she doesn't tell them that. She barely notices, actually.

(She's living in Lyme's house now anyway, chasing the now-faded presence of her mentor and mother figure and the only person she ever loved, too involved with her own ghosts to care about what former enemies and spurned lovers are doing.)

Enobaria is thirty-four when Johanna knocks on her door, makes her clean up, drags her out who-knows-where with herself and Gale.

She resists, of course, but Johanna is stronger than she looks, and Enobaria's own strength has declined from days spent walking from room to room or sitting on a musty bed and staring blankly out the window.

It becomes a routine, Johanna appearing to drag her off somewhere – the market, a meeting, the doctor's office, a simple outing to the park – and Enobaria resisting but eventually capitulating. She never hits Johanna, even though sometimes she would very much like to.

(She is going out by herself, arranging meetings with Gale and Johanna, even travelling to the Capitol from time to time and appearing on the television for interviews as one of the last remaining victors, before she even realizes what Johanna really did.)

Enobaria is thirty-seven when Johanna shows up on her doorstep. By now, this isn't such a strange occurrence, and she doesn't even mind anymore. She decided that she liked the other victor when Johanna one day said, you know, Enobaria, everyone says you're such a giant bitch, but I don't know what they're talking about.

This time she says, we're leaving for Peeta and Katniss' wedding in two days, and you're coming with.

Enobaria resists, naturally. Go to a wedding, much less the star-crossed lovers' wedding? No. Never. Just because she tolerates Gale, and happens to passively like Johanna, does not mean that she is going to show up in District Twelve for Peeta and Katniss' stupid wedding.

Besides, Enobaria adds triumphantly, I haven't even been invited.

She realizes this is the wrong to say when Johanna smirks and holds up a small piece of white paper.

Says here that I can bring one guest. Gale got one too and his says the same, so that means we can bring a total of four people, Johanna tells her smugly.

Enobaria snatches the invitation out of the other woman's hand, absently snapping, I can do math. She scans the card, and realizes that Johanna's right.

So, you'd better be packed when I come back, Johanna says.

Enobaria snarls, but there isn't really any heat in it, and besides Johanna is used to her anti-social surliness. I'm not dressing up, she says, sounding sulky even to her own ears. Besides, shouldn't you be going with Gale? You two are a... thing, after all, she adds, trying to change the subject.

Johanna shrugs. Apparently they didn't realize that, 'cause they sent each of us an invitation. So you've got no excuse not to go.

Besides the little fact that we used to be enemies? Enobaria points out, as a last resort.

We used to be enemies. Just don't act like such a sulky child, I'm sure it'll be fine, Johanna retorts. Now remember – I'm coming back tomorrow afternoon, and you'd better be ready.

(She grumbles about it, but she does pack and go with Gale and Johanna to District Twelve.)

Enobaria's thirty-eighth birthday also happens to be the day of Katniss and Peeta's wedding. Of course.

She sits uncomfortably beside Johanna in a dress the latter somehow procured for her after they arrived and Johanna realized that Enobaria had been telling the truth and hadn't brought anything suitable for dressing up in.

Katniss and Peeta were visibly surprised by Enobaria's presence, and after seeing the look of confusion on their faces, she very nearly turned around and ran back to the train. Johanna's grip on her upper arm prevented her from doing, unfortunately.

She's my date, do you guys have a problem with that? Gale asked, and Enobaria decided at that moment that maybe she liked him too.

The looks of confusion/horror/utter disbelief on Katniss and Peeta's faces were priceless, but Johanna ruined it by laughing. Gale snickered to himself, and Enobaria even cracked a closed-mouth smile.

You're welcome, of course, Peeta said, but he had always been a good liar from what Enobaria had seen, so she didn't quite believe him. It's just that when Johanna said she was bringing a guest, we were expecting a boyfriend, or something, he explained.

It's true. We just didn't invite you because we thought you wouldn't come, Enobaria, Katniss added, and she was reasonably sure that was a lie, but they didn't make a further issue of it, so Enobaria stayed.

She is sitting beside Annie and her pretty little boy, watching the proceedings with a fair amount of disinterest.

You have sharp teeth, lady, the little boy whispers, apparently as bored as she is with the whole thing.

Annie casts a nervous glance in her direction; she doesn't need to worry though, because Enobaria is more surprised than angry by this observation, and she doesn't really know how to react. People always kept their children away from her, especially after she got her teeth altered like this.

Like a shark's, the boy adds, oblivious to his mother's anxiety and Enobaria's confusion. Except shiny.

I got them altered when I was younger, because I wanted to look like a shark, Enobaria tells him quietly. I regret it, but I don't want to go back to the doctor's to put them back the way they used to be.

The boy nods gravely, his sea-green eyes completely serious. My mom says sharks are dangerous, but only if you bother them first.

Hush, Percy, Annie murmurs. Don't bother her.

It's fine, Enobaria says, surprising herself. I don't mind.

Johanna, seated in the row in front of them, twists around. Quiet, I'm trying to listen! she hisses, though the amused smirk on her face says otherwise.

Enobaria smirks back, but doesn't say anything else. She settles in to watch the rest of the ceremony, to live the rest of her life surrounded by other people as imperfect as she is. She realizes now the she can't do everything herself, but she tells herself that she wouldn't mind relying on other people for help, or to tell her when she's being an idiot, from time to time.

(She finds that she really doesn't mind; despite people invading the private little bubble that she created for herself and forcing her to come out of her 'shell', she finds that getting attached to other people and letting go of old grudges is not as bad as she thought it would be.)

A/N: I kind of have a thing for the Careers. And this kind of got away from me. I started off with the premise 'I wonder what led up to Enobaria's Games?' and ended up with this. I wasn't expecting a happy ending, but before I knew it Enobaria and Johanna were BFFs. Yeah, I have no idea what happened, either.

Thoughts? :D (I promise to reply if you review... Yes, I'm resorting to offering rather weak incentives for reviews.)