The Hunger Games – The Sea Aflame
Hey, everyone, thanks for checking out my story! I hope you enjoy it!
This is a story of District Four, wealthier, stronger, but just as rebellious as Twelve. This view of Panem is very different from Katniss's.
In this story there is Odesta (Of course) but there is also so much more. Finnick's parental and friendly relations are just as significant in this story.
Finally, I tried to follow the book more than the movie, but some things I had to take (Johanna's interview for instance.)
Thanks for getting this far, please review, and follow if your interested!
I do not own the Hunger Games. All rights to Suzanne Collins.
William calmly listens to the waves, the gentle lapping of the water on the edge of the canoe. The waters of the Sea of Sacramento are salty and strong, and abundant with aquatic life. There are probably a hundred other boats in the area, but somehow, he and his son feel like they are alone on the sea. He sits in the back of the small canoe, with his pole unmoving in the water. The fishing hasn't been all that good, but he always enjoys spending time with his young son, Finnick, who is clearly quite bored. Even at that young age, he's already handsome, with dirty blond hair and seemingly perfect facial features. He's bobbing his pole in the water, and the moment it appears like anything might have grabbed hold of the hook, he jerks the pole, inevitably losing any fish and probably his bait. Eventually, Finnick gives up, throws his pole down and crosses his arms.
"Oh Finnick, what's wrong?" William says, setting his pole down as well.
"I never catch anything!" Finnick grunts. He looks very angrily at the pole and then continues to pout.
"Finnick…relax. I haven't caught that much either."
"You've caught ten fish!"
"No…more like…five…maybe." William says, pulling up his net to see they've got about fifteen fish, not all that good a haul for the Sea of Sacramento, but not making his son feel any better. He reels in Finnick's pole and puts a new worm on the hook, "Finnick, how old are you, eight? All your teachers at the academy don't talk about anything but how good of a student you are! Let's see you ingenuity. Figure out how to catch some fish…" William says. Finnick glares at his father, then looks at the poll for a while. He then drops it, and pulls a spear out of the boat. He takes a handful of bait and drops it in the water, then holds up the spear. Something splashes near him and he thrusts the spear with incredible speed. Then he hauls up his prize, a large snapper.
"See! I knew you could do it!" William says, applauding his son, who is grinning and holding up the fish, "You're my little champion!" William tickles the boy, then Finnick hugs his father.
"I'm going to win the Hunger Games for you! When I'm all grown up, I'm going to be your champion!" Finnick says. William feels pained as he hears this, but smiles and straightens Finnick's shirt. Before he can respond, he hears a voice calling their names. William turns and sees her, the most beautiful woman he'd ever known, probably the most beautiful woman in the world. With long blond hair, full, luscious lips, soft, sea-green eyes, and a smile that could melt away any feelings of anxiety, that was his wife Iliana; the only woman he really ever loved. He bright calls for her boys ring out wonderfully over the ocean water, then those calls turn to cries, yells of desperation. William is suddenly before the justice building, and he sees his wife, lifted into the air, held by a noose. William is pushing through the crowd, but he can't reach her, she's too far, and then, Finnick screams, calling for his mother, are the only sound he can hear. And then, William opens his eyes.
William, feeling sick and terrible, lifts his upper body up and slowly he becomes aware of his surroundings. First, one of his servants, Mica, is touching his arm, concern visible on her face. She's one of about six servants who clean and maintain his large home, and by William's favorite. She also is from Area Seven of District Four, the same area his wife was from, which made her harshly accented voice often quite soothing to his ears. Once he waves her away, he takes in the rest of his bedroom, which is filled with pictures of his son, Finnick, his wife, Iliana, his parents, and himself. He is in a king bed with a canopy held up by wooden tridents. The bed is covered by numerous pillows, luxury, fancy ones which Finnick used to jump on when he was just a boy. Willam grabs a large white one and feels its fine silk and feather insides. This kind of rich silk is stuff the children of the ruling city of Panem, the Capitol, get. Except that children of the Capitol don't have to fight to the death in a yearly gladiatorial match, like his son did. William gets up slowly and goes to the window. Mica leaves the room with another pat on the back; at this moment, she isn't enough to get the nightmares about his wife and son away. Nothing really is.
William eventually comes downstairs and gets a cup of coffee. As he feels the liquid filling his stomach and making him more alive and alert, he just watches the ocean beyond his home's windows, ignoring the television in the room which really should be on. Since the Hunger Games, that yearly gladiatorial match, are being broadcast for the next week, William is supposed to be watching them, not working, so he takes it slow, just relaxing and allowing Mica to start on breakfast. Just then, William sees a familiar face approaching the home on the beach from the neighboring Victor's Village, where the winners of the gladiatorial games got to live.
"Ron Stafford!" William says with a smile as the young winner of the 66th Hunger Games approaches him. Ron is 27, with slightly tan skin and slanted eyes, a long, tough chin and sharp cheeks, dark black hair, and small, pursed lips; he is handsome. Not as handsome as William's son Finnick, but handsome nonetheless. In Ron's hand is a bucket full of fish.
"Mr. Odair, good to see you." Ron says, setting it down in front of the house, "I come bearing gifts. Caught them on an all-night fishing trip yesterday," William whistles to another servant, who comes out of the door and takes the fish away.
"Come in, Ron, get some lemonade. And for the last time, you aren't a little kid playing with Finnick anymore. William is fine."
"It just doesn't feel right, Mr. Odair," Ron responds, going into the house. William leads him to a table and bids him sit down, then takes his seat across from him.
"You stopped watching the Hunger Games too I see," Ron says, noticing the off TV.
"Both tributes from Four killed before the top 8 again. What's that now, four years in a row?" William says, shaking his head.
"I think the problem's their mentor, Jarrock. I'm not sure he even cares anymore. You know they took his name off the plaque in the Capitol? Everyone outside of Four thinks he's dead," Ron says, discussing the old District Four tribute who was a teacher at the Tribute Academy. For whatever reason, Jarrock had much less difficultly watching the tributes he trained and assisted through the games die, which made him hated in the district, but that hatred didn't seem to bother him either.
"He might as well be. He's nearly 67, isn't he? I remember when he won the games, let me tell you, it takes a lot to shock old Mags." William says, recalling how Jarrock won by yanking on a fishing pole and ambushing the last remaining tribute as he was hauled to the beach like a fish. Both men laugh in response, then William sighs.
"How's Annie doing Ron?" William says, bringing up another District Four Victor. This was their most recent victor, and she was a little more unstable than the others, though no one who survives the Hunger Games was really stable.
"She misses Finnick. She just spent the whole day sobbing, even as Mags fed her porridge."
"Poor girl."
"Yeah…" Ron says, shaking his head.
"Her games were some of the most dramatic, that I'll give them. Exploding fireflies, tracker jackers, jabberjays, and then the sudden flood of water… Cheap tactics to entertain a stupid crowd!" William says, mocking the response of Claudius Templesmith, the well-known host of the Hunger Games. Even he was unhappy with the event that year. Ron smiles, then shakes his head.
"All the Hunger Games are gruesome. But that was beyond reason," Ron says. That was the truth of the Hunger Games; they were a meaninglessly violent battle the Capitol forced on the twelve Districts of Panem. However, the Capitol made sure that everyone pretends it's a fantastic and amazing spectacle, in fact, the greatest part of living in Panem. What's worse, there in District Four, a very wealthy district where the Victors were revered, many of the people actually believed them. In this wealthy District, Ron, Annie, Finnick, even Jarrok had been what is known as a Career, a child trained to fight in the games from a young age. As William is lost in his thoughts, a door bell sounds through the room.
"I'll get it!" William yells to his servants, going quickly to the door and opening it to reveal Mags, the eighty year old Victor, bent over, leaning heavily on a cane, and smiling widely. Her white hair is pooled on her shoulders, and her smile is nearly toothless, but William remembers when she was a looker, getting nearly any man, District Four or Capitol, she wanted. He puts his arm out for her to steady herself on.
"Mags, what a pleasure to see you. What brings you to my humble home?" William asks. Mags replies quietly, something which would be indecipherable if William hadn't been listening to her for years.
"I wanted to see Finnick's father for day. I was tired sitting alone at home and Annie is finally asleep."
"Well, it's always a pleasure when you visit, Mags. Come have a drink." William says, taking the woman into his living room. Mags, instinctively, goes to an armchair as a servant brings two lemonades.
"Did you see what happened Mags?" The woman shakes her head sadly in response.
"Bad luck. Porick was strong, but no match for Thresh."
"Finnick won't be happy."
"I think Librae will be sadder. She'd been working with Liana for almost two years now."
"Tough...the 74th hunger games, and still only 7 winners."
"It's amazing we had that…" Ron says.
"Finnick and you earned it. Not like me and Jarrock. We just got lucky," Mags says, looking to the sea and sipping the lemonade slowly. Her words hang in the air, and all three just remained quiet, drinking the luxury drink and listening to the waves. This goes on probably an hour before the fish breakfast is ready, and the three have a nice, meal, trading mostly subtleties and bad jokes. After his second plate, Ron stands and wipes his hands.
"Well, I have some gardening to do. And I've got to finished it before the sun sets." Mags pulls herself up too.
"Yes, I'll have to check my poles. See if I caught anything."
"Alright. I'll give Finnick a call, and see how he's doing. Though, knowing his promiscuity, it may be some time before he can get back to me," William mutters. Ron remains silent as Mags laughs heartily, then both leave. William waves, and then goes back into his home, which suddenly reminds him of his painful past, watching Finnick survive and kill in the 65th Hunger Games.
Finnick loves her, with all his heart. He wants to be with her, to mix his body and limbs up with hers until they become one. But he knows he can't. No, instead, he has to be with this woman, this ugly, excitable Capitol woman with horribly smudged makeup. That's what it costs to be the one of the most attractive Victors.
When he won his games, as a small, slender, handsome young man, he did so against all odds. Another man, Ron Stafford, who was seventeen at the time, should have gone in his place; instead, Finnick overcame him in the Exhibition Games; prequel games that Districts One, Two and Four held to decide who they'd send as Tribute. Once he won, he went to the real event, the Hunger Games, a huge, terrible gladiatorial event meant to put the Districts in their place by sacrificing their children to the entertainment of the ruling Capitol. There, he was a small, fourteen year old boy, no match for the other children, who were as old as eighteen and some twice his size. And yet he survived that, killed or outdid ever other child, and emerged as a Victor, one of the rare few who survived those torturous Hunger Games. And then...he was enslaved.
"Finnick, darling, come here..." the woman says, running a disgustingly white finger down his back, "Come and show me that lovely body you've become famous for..." Finnick turns around and puts his hands behind his back, allowing her look him over. This was his final challenge, one that nearly killed him every time he was in the Captiol. She put her hands on his body and slid them up and down, and there was nothing he could do to get this woman off him. Not without risking the lives of everyone he loved. This is his slavery, he's a prostitute, sold by the President of Panem, Cornelius Snow, and his allies to the highest bidder, and if he failed to listen to them, as he did once, those near to him die.
"Perfect...so perfect...Come, come to the back room..." she says, grabbing his hand and pulling. Finnick doesn't budge at first though. Because even in the terrible situation of being sold like a piece of meat, he has one act of vengeance he knows he can take against the Capitol. One small act of rebellion.
"You know my price, ma'am. One secret for every hour. And it had better be...juicy..." Finnick says, leaning down toward her. He is a gatherer of secrets. He keeps them in a special book, and he knows he'll use them one day to bring down the Capitol and President Snow. The woman smiles and puts a hand on his face. Finnick can really see up close how ugly this woman is as she whispers into his ear.
"I've just heard a particularly juicy one. Seneca Crane, the current Head-Gamemaker of the Hunger Games, is going to announce that two victors can win this year..."
"What? Why?" Finnick shoots. He coughs awaya his surprise and smiles seductively again, "Why in the world would he do that?"
"He's hedging his bets, he thinks that Katniss and Peeta, and Cato and Clove will be opposing love stories and break everyone's heart when one of each of them dies."
"But...Katniss and Peeta weren't even together...never mind...where, per chance, might you have learned this secret?"
"Well, a member of Seneca's staff and I are quite close. His name...is Plutarch Heavensbee."
"Plutarch Heavensbee...that name doesn't ring a bell."
"He's a pretty private man. He generally keeps to himself though he has a few close confidants..." she says with a wink. The Capitol woman takes Finnick's hand again.
"I did my part. Now do yours..."
"As you wish..." Finnick says, sweeping up the woman in his arms. Behind his smile, however, is depression and disgust. But he knows, deep down in his heart, that he had to do this for her. He whispers to himself the same phrase he repeats every time he has the "work."
"For you, Annie...I'd do anything."
William takes in a deep breath of the salty air, listening to one of his hotel managers explain their current situation.
"We'll have the Grand Vista completed by next April, though, several of the rooms are open now if you would like us to to open them."
"No, no, keep on our current schedule..." William said, taking the schedule from his manager's hand. He was glad there was plenty of work to do. He prefers his work to watching children kill each other on television. And with his wealth and the companies he owns, there is always plenty of work to do. William is the manager of three fleets of fishing vessels, a pearl production company, and finally a hotel chain on ship-wrecker bay. While those in the Districts not involved in the Hunger Games weren't allowed to leave their Districts, even the poorest citizens of the Capitol could see any part of Panem they wished. This excluded District Thirteen of course, which was destroyed after the great rebellion 74 years ago, but any of the other 12 districts were open to visits. However, very few capital residents wanted to see District Nine, Ten, Eleven, or Twelve, instead, most capital residents went to the great textile factories of Eight, the majestic stone quarries of Two, the rich luxury shops of One, and the sea ports and beaches of of Four. And someone had to maintain and provide residence for those visitors when they arrived.
William turns to look up at the new hotel he's constructing, the Grand Vista, and smiles in admiration. The new hotel would be an enormous addition to the collection of big blue and green towers against the coast. His gaze drops to a man coming toward him from the front entrance of the new hotel. The strange man is wearing a bright purple suit and has bright purple hair to match it. The man also has golden lines along the sides of his head and golden eyelashes. He blinks those golden eyelashes a few times in the summer sun, then looks back to William, who nods slightly.
"Hello…"
"William Odair? Scipio Mellark! Good to meet you!" he says, flashing a silly smile. His pure white teeth and obnoxious hair mark him as a man of the Capitol; there is no need to hear his accent, which makes him sound as ridiculous as he looks.
"The pleasure is all mine…" William says, trying to keep from laughing at the man, "Is there some reason you've called on me in particular? I'm sure many of these hotel rooms will satisfy your…"
"Nope, nope, I decided I was going to meet Finnick Odair's family. Everyone can't help but talk about the family of victors, and let me tell you, the Odair family is the most famous. A man nearly as rich as President Snow, allowing his son to volunteer in the games. Fantastic. Now, tell me about this wonderful hotel you are building!" Scipio says, going up an octave on the last word. William deals with Capital visitors regularly at the hotel, but Scipio's accent is really strong, and he has to take a moment before responding.
"I…uh…this hotel is going to be called the Grand Vista, and its or it will be a ten story canoe tower, shaped like the boat and with an elevator, and fully stocked kitchens and villas for those who want a more immersive experience in Four. The other tower already built is a full service one with chefs and servants who wait on guests hand and foot…" William says, starting to go to another tower. Scipio pulls him back and points him toward the sea.
"Tell me, is it possible to go out on a boat ride?"
"Of course. I'll get a boat cab ready…"
"No, no, no, you surely own a boat yourself, Mr. Odair. Come, treat me personally, I insist."
"Ahem…okay…" William says, a little thrown off the abruptness of this Capitol guest. He goes into the hall of his tower and uses the telephone there to call for his personal boat. After several more minutes of meaningless chit chat about the hotels with Scipio, through which William feels he is talking to a rather high official, the boat arrives. It isn't anything like one of the great fishing or netting barges which operated all along District Four's coast, but it is the largest vehicle William could legally own, and it is completely his. Frankly, the boat's big enough for William; it had two floors, and was armed with a stocked refrigerator and full kitchen. Theoretically, he could live on the boat for several days, however, the Capitol probably wouldn't appreciate him living out of their grasp on the sea. The dark sea green paint on the vessel let it almost blend in with the waves, while also giving it a subtle but gorgeous appearance.
"Ah, excellent, come, come let us go out and experience the wonders on the Pacific Sea, shall we?" Scipio says, grabbing William by the hand somewhat forcefully and dragging him to his boat. William at that moment notices two peacekeepers he doesn't know. Most of these men in dreary grey suits were quite respectful toward William, not attempting to do anything which could threaten an invitation to the large festivals of District Four and the rich seafood dishes served during these events. However, these men seemed about at interested in seafood as William imagined a fish would be. For a moment, William thinks they are going to execute him on his boat, and tries to get the attention of some of his lieutenants at the hotel.
"Don't worry, Mr. Odair. Your life is not at risk. I just want to talk. Besides, Finnick has done everything we asked him. You don't have anything to worry about. Not yet anyway…" Scipio says, boarding William's boat with the peacekeepers. They dismiss William's crew, then with guidance from its owner, are able to launch the boat and let it float a small distant from shore. William notices the sun starting to dip into the horizon and remains cautious as Scipio takes a seat in one of the fancy leather chairs in the rear of the vessel and looks back at the coast of District Four, lighting up in the twilight.
"Fantastic. Just amazing. I can't believe how beautiful this Districts is. Even District One is really quite ugly, when you really think about it; up in the mountains with factories dotting the hills. District Three, Seven, Ten, and Eleven are on the coast, but they are nothing like this."
"I get the impression you've been through a lot of the districts," William carefully says, sitting down next to Scipio. The peacekeepers stay to attention behind them, making William quite uncomfortable, but he knows he can't do anything, and tries his best to ignore them.
"Oh, quite a few indeed. I've tried to meet each and every victor personally. You know, District Twelve is the most disgusting of the Districts, and the winner from there, Haymitch Abernathy, I think, is the most disgusting man I've ever meet. Not like you all in District Four."
"I'm sure. Is there some reason you wanted some distance from my friends and guards to talk to me?"
"Ah not afraid to tackle the elephant in the room, I like that Odair. Tell me, you know a bit about the Hunger Games don't you?" Scipio asks. William is becoming quite suspicious of this line of questioning, but nods.
"Yes, I've watched all of them at one time or another."
"That's not what I meant. I was referring to your participation in them. Your son, Finnick, was such an excellent Victor...you know, despite the pain it may have caused you, you're quite lucky. There are a lot of other parents in District Four and all around Panem who wish they could have your problems, being too wealthy, too handsome, having their only child survive the Games," Scipio says. William knows its true; in the games, twenty-four tributes had to compete, and there could only ever be one Victor. Finnick, his boy, had been that one in twenty-four.
"It hadn't been cheap, monetarily or emotionally, I hear. In addition to paying the large tuition costs of sending Finnick to 'Tribute Academy,' as you call it here in Four, you were also Finnick's main sponser in the Games. Most people think he was gifted with all that money because of his pretty face and underdog status, but it was you, wasn't it? You shouldered most of the burden during the games, sending him all those gifts? What was that number...eight million? I bet the trident you sent him cost a million by itself," Scipio says. He was referring to the sponsor system of the Hunger Games, where during the event, patrons of either the Capitol or the Districts had the opportunity to sponsor tributes by sending them gifts, food, supplies, even weapons as William had found out. He had dumped nearly eight million dollars into getting his son whatever he needed. There were other sponsors, of course, but what William did was by far the most one sponsor had ever paid for a games.
"Do you have a point?" William shoots, frustrated at this Capitol man picking him apart. Scipio smiles in response.
"Well, your experiences make you a bit of an expert in this field, I believe. What do you think of this year's Hunger Games?" Scipio asks. William looks down, knowing that by not watching the games all day, he's been breaking the law. Most peacekeepers know how he'd much rather be doing work and leave him alone, but technically, all citizens of Panem have to stop and watch the games at least part of the day.
"I…they've been alright."
"Alright? They've been wonderful! Just splendid! Come, take a look at this, replay!" He waves to one of his peacekeepers who sets a small black circular machine on the ground in front of the two. After pressing a few buttons, it projects a floating image of a girl running. The crazy fire girl of District Twelve, as William remembers her. She's screaming something, the name of a flower maybe.
"What is this…"
"Wait, wait, it's just getting good…" He says, pointing as the girl, who is apparently named Katniss based on the word on the screen, bursting through a mass of brush and finding a small, sickly dark skinned girl, Rue as the screen says, trapped in a net. Katniss frees her, but then the small girl is suddenly hit with a spear through her heart. Katniss turns around and fires an arrow into the boy who threw the spear, and he falls to the ground. William turns away, not ever handling gore very well.
"No, no, surely this is worth watching!" Scipio says, laughing at the brutality. That was what really made William sick, how much the Capitol enjoyed watching these sad District kids kill each other with nothing but glee. William looks back, and sees that Katniss is not moving on to kill another enemy, but instead holding Rue, caressing her. Then, most amazingly, when Rue finally dies and the cannon fires, Katniss doesn't leave her. She goes to a nearby pond, gets masses of wildflowers and grasses, and makes Rue a bed, making it look less like the Hunger Games and more like a funeral.
"This is…" William starts, but Katniss kisses her fingers and holds them in the air. William moves to give this ancient signal of unity back, when he remember where he is and feigns wiping his mouth.
"That's one upstart little girl, isn't it..." William finally says.
"You aren't kidding…" Scipio says, nodding to one of his peacekeepers who takes the machine away, "Makes for a truly wonderful show. The reason why I'm here, is to make sure that it remains just that, a show."
"Of course…" William says. Scipio holds his hand out then smiles, a dark smile which makes William's stomach curl up into a ball.
"District Four has tendencies. You are rich, you are strong, and you are far away. Unlike One and Two, District Four is famously disgruntled with how the Capitol manages you. Rich and rebellious is not a good mix, William." The word causes a pang in his heart. Rebellious.
"No, we aren't rebellious. We serve the Capitol happily. We'll increase our construction and fishing efforts, raise more support…"
"Stop. Don't worry, Mr. Odair. I promised you your life is not at risk, and it isn't. But you must understand, District Four's loyalty is…sometimes a concern for the Capitol."
"No, never…"
"Let me make myself clear, Mr. Odair. Katniss will die in these games, no matter what happens next. And no matter what she does, it should be remembered that she is nothing but a foolish upstart, and not a martyr. When she does die, I expect you to make sure there this District remains nothing but loyal." Scipio stands up and directs the boat back toward shore, "Thank you for that short trip. I do so appreciate when those from the Districts are so…accommodating." Scipio shakes William's hand. William gives him a smile, a wide, very scripted smile, then allows Scipio to exit the boat with his peacekeepers. William watches him go, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and quite dizzy. Scipio was right, District Four was rebellious, and now, it was William's job to bring it back under control. William had studied a great deal of the history of Panem, and the countries which preceded it. Every full rebellion he'd ever seen, from the ancient American Civil War to the Rebellion of Panem, was started by a rich upper class leading the rest of the country to revolt. The Capitol knew, and rightly so, that District Four could easily be that rebellious, rich, upper class. And if Katniss's act was enough to send an official out to make sure this District remained under control, the situation had to be getting bad. Rebellion is the last thing William wants to think about. In fact, William wants absolutely nothing with any rebellious plot. The last time rebellion was mentioned in his home; death followed.
William returns to his house rather tense, knowing the others at his work will cover for him as he leaves early. When William gets home, he sits on his porch watching the sea until late at night, at which time he goes straight to bed, and lies there, feeling his hopelessness rob him of sleep. Even Mica's soothing songs and pats of support aren't sufficient to calm him down. He rolls over constantly, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"How," William mutters after about two hours, "…Mica…how can I stop the District from rebelling? I'm not in control of District Four. How can I stop the people from revolting because of that girl? If she dies, she is going to become a martyr, there is no question."
"You won't be able to think clearly about any of this, if you don't get some sleep…" Mica says, touching his hair. Her accented speech makes him a little calmer, but not much. Area Seven, her place of birth, was the poorest of the seven Areas, or subsections, of District Four, though their poverty was paradise compared to the other Districts, at least, this was the impression William got from the many Capitol residents who came to his hotels. William finally gives up trying to sleep and goes to take a shower. As he washes quietly in that, another symbol of luxury, William bangs his head against the wall in frustration. In fact, he barely notices his doing it until Mica knocks on the door to see if he's alright.
"I'm…I'm alive, for now…" William says, trying to run over his options. He can't make a public announcement, that will be too staged, and the people would just rebel against him too. He can't just ignore the games, then the rebellion will start for sure. And he couldn't turn his allies and friends into his own army of peacekeepers. That would be taking power from the Capitol, and beside it would end in bloodshed and rebellion anyway. In fact, if Katniss was significant enough that her death would concern the Capitol about rebellion, District Four would likely collapse into chaos no matter what William did.
"If she dies…Scipio didn't say anything about if she lives…" William murmurs, then returns to his bed, and sleeps soundly, with purpose on his mind. Tomorrow, he will go to the justice building, and sign himself up as a sponsor, and put his vast wealth into protecting Katniss, and by extension, District Four.