Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Ad Aeternum
Prologue: Part of the story
Viggo Helden – District 4 victor of the 24th annual Hunger Games.
– Victory Tour for 24th Hunger Games.
Location – District One.
District one. The last district. Viggo was tired of the attention, of the thunderous crowds, some of whom hated him, but would never say it others that loved him and were exuberant with their affections. He was tired of it all. He wanted nothing more than to have a simple afternoon to himself beside the water, but he couldn't say that, not to anyone.
Excelcia was standing beside him, beaming. She was proud of him, more proud than his mother would ever be. She grasped his hand, urging him onto the stage again. She wouldn't understand, clearly wasn't thinking twice about the significance of this district.
Viggo sighed and then put on his brave face. Ephemora was dead; there was nothing he could do to change that, really nothing he could ever have done to prevent it, since it had been at her own hand that her life had ended. So he might as well forget it.
He breathed and gave his speech to cheering fans. District one was a career district, much like his own and, though they were rivals, their pride that a Career had won, especially with the shame she had brought them.
On the stage beside him stood District One's victors, Fedelmid Cheyenne, the most recent victor who won the 19th games, Khalani Averick and Blake Mahner. He glanced over at them, only briefly as he spoke of Ephemora.
"Though I only knew her for a few short days, Ephemora was brave. She created the alliance that bonded Kalvin and I and her memory kept us going through the difficult days in the psych ward. I owe my presence here to her and Kalvin, who stayed with me until the final moments of the Games. Let their memory burn ever bright as we are united in their sacrifice. Panem today, Panem forever," he concluded in the traditional way Excelcia had taught him. As he turned, his gaze fell upon his fellow victors. Fedelmid seemed to be struggling. Ephemora had been his tribute, after all. Khalani stood beside him, squeezing his hand tightly, so tightly it was turning white. Blake, though, Blake simply glared.
"This isn't going to be good," Blake whispered to Khalani in an accusatory tone as Viggo left the stage. "Mark my words, this is the year we pay dearly. And the worst part is it's our own fault."
Iris Corolin – District 3
"Is everything prepared?" Iris asked, fluttering about the room. It wasn't easy to plan a surprise when all eyes in Panem were focused on you, but somehow she, Leunam and Riker had managed to do it.
"Stop fretting. I promise it'll work," the younger victor assured her. Iris took a step back as Riker took her hands in her own. "You and Leunam are going to give the Capitol something to rejoice in and they'll forget everything. It's for all of our good."
Iris knew it was. She didn't want to step on Viggo's toes and upstage him, but the nation didn't need to remember the stigma of the last games, the suicide of district one's tribute after she had volunteered, how so many tributes had been broken in the psych ward. Above all, Brutus Laertes and President Gaius Emmanuel didn't need to be reminded. With the first quarter quell coming up, it would help to sooth their memories, seeing the first marriage of two victors.
It had always been what she wanted, of course, but with Riker's victory two years ago it had given them the opportunity. She wouldn't have left mentoring in order to have a family, not until one of them had a replacement. Now Riker, with her brilliant attitude and a year of mentoring under her belt was ready. Despite all odds, she had triumphed in her Games and had been an exceptional mentor last year. Yes, it was time.
Brutus Leartes – Head Gamemaker
How could he make people forget? Viggo was leaving District One, quickly bound for the Capitol and still the people saw him as the boy who had allied with the girl who had commit suicide. He was a victor, yes, a strong victor in his own right when all of the events of the Games were taken into consideration, but his alliance was all that people seemed to remember.
Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if it didn't bring back memories of just seven years before, memories of propaganda that only a select few knew to be false. With three supposed suicides and one suicide attempt connected with the Games victors or competitors. He didn't want the Games to be connected with despair, not when they were supposed to be a symbol of what bound the nation together, a spectacle of hope.
"Brutus," Puck's voice summoned him. She was quite the punctual assistant. "We have instructions for the quarter quell."
"Already?" Brutus questioned. "I didn't think we were announcing those until –"
"At the victory feast," Puck corrected him. Brutus straightened up, but then saw the envelope bore the presidential seal. He opened it gingerly. "I suppose we have to give them time to prepare."
"Your part of the story will go on."
Tribute submissions for Ad Aeternum are now open. This is not a first come first serve. Submissions will remain open until 12/31 or until otherwise notified. For tribute form please see my profile page. I need 48 tributes total, 24 females 24 males. 24 voted in by their districts and 24 reaped.