A/N: I originally wrote this almost a year ago for a contest on Mockingjaynet, but at the time, I was right up against the deadline so I didn't really have a chance to clean it up to the point where I was satisfied with it. Anyways, the conversation depicted was actually imagined before the movie. I was really pleased that the movie actually incorporated a similar scene that had the spirit of my own.
As always, I own nothing. The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.
The final days of the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games from President Snow's POV
Seneca Crane is a brilliant Head Gamemaker, but all too often brilliance walks hand in hand with arrogance, and flirts with madness. Mr. Crane is a master of manipulating the arena and the audience to provide year after year of exciting Hunger Games. But several times in the past, he has come close to pushing the envelope a little too far. The most recent incident was five years ago when he requisitioned nearly the complete supply of the Capitol's hover-technology to create a floating arena. Breathtaking, yes, but also ridiculously expensive and fraught with so many technical difficulties that it almost wasn't ready in time.
But nothing in the past compares to the dangerous game that he is playing for this year's Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. Eight days ago, he announced a rule change: in reaction to the audience's support of the "Star-Crossed Lovers" act happening in the arena, two tributes from the same District would be allowed to win.
Now, I give Mr. Crane a great deal of autonomy. I know from experience that it takes a great deal of effort to run the Hunger Games, effort that I cannot afford to divert from the far greater task of running Panem. (Or, more accurately, ensuring that I remain firmly in charge of running Panem.) But like the rest of Panem, Mr. Crane is still subject to my authority, and he should have known to consult me before instituting such a drastic change.
The Hunger Games was instituted as a punishment to the Districts for their rebellion in the Dark Days. It is, essentially, the annual execution of twenty-three of their children to remind them of the insurmountable power of the Capitol. But it is also a sporting event, and one of the cardinal rules of sports is that all competitors go in knowing the rules. One does not alter the rules in the middle of a competition. To do so undermines confidence in the fairness of the competition, both for the competitors and for those watching. And with all of Panem watching, this latest twist could prove to be extremely dangerous.
What Mr. Crane fails to realize is that the Hunger Games serves several purposes. First and foremost, of course, it reminds the Districts of their impotency and inability to resist the Capitol. It also creates disunity, both amongst the Districts (how can one not hate the person from the other District who murdered their child?) and within the Districts (the tesserae system makes the poor hate the rich). But the Hunger Games also serves a purpose in controlling the people of the Capitol: by keeping them entertained with this annual slaughter, it prevents them from viewing the citizens of the Districts as fully human, and potentially becoming sympathetic and recognizing the oppression that we conduct. All of this would be jeopardized if people begin to lose "faith" in the Games.
I had Seneca Crane summoned to my office immediately after learning of the rule change. He didn't share any of my concerns. In fact, he was rather proud of what he had done.
"Mr. President! So good to see you! Are you enjoying the latest plot twist in this year's Games?!"
"It certainly has my attention. But why, pray tell, did you feel the need to tamper with the very rules of the Games?"
"Isn't it so exciting?! District Two versus District Twelve! With two wildcards thrown in for extra fun!" (He was, of course, referring to the lone tributes remaining from Districts Five and Eleven.) "We had to do something to spice things up. Now that the Girl on Fire has the bow and arrows, she's far too powerful for anyone else to take her down. But now she'll be handicapped by her injured lover!"
I had to admit, there was a hint of genius in Mr. Crane's explanation. Provided, of course, that one only concerns himself with the Hunger Games and remains completely blind to the bigger picture.
"Mr. Crane, I hope you understand that there must be one – and only one – victor."
"Of course, of course! Don't worry! The boy Peeta is in very poor condition; he probably won't survive for much longer. And the Girl on Fire still has a good chance of eliminating one of the pair from District Two. We won't have to worry about there being two left over from the same District."
"And if it somehow does happen?"
"I have a plan for that! We'll simply announce that the earlier rule change was made in error and have it revoked. Then we will have the ultimate ending: lovers turning on each other and fighting it out to the death!"
"Very well. Continue with your little game. But understand this: if this ends… abnormally, I will hold you personally responsible."
"I understand, sir. But everything will go according to plan. I guarantee it!"
"For your sake, I hope that you are correct. Dismissed."
I had not been paying very much attention to this year's Games; distractions are only useful if someone who is not distracted takes advantage of them. With all eyes fixed on the arena, it was easy to arrange the tragic accidental food-poisoning of two of my most vocal political opponents. After my conversation with Mr. Crane, however, I began to take more interest. I was not pleased with what I saw. Already I had been somewhat annoyed by the audacity of the boy from District Three, who dared to tamper with the land mines whose sole purpose was to keep tributes on their launch platforms for the sixty second countdown. By reactivating them and turning them into weapons for the Career pack to use, he had already made the Gamemakers look foolish. I made a note to punish his family for that stunt, much like I did with the Victor of the Second Quarter Quell, for using the force field as a weapon.
Upon reviewing the events leading up to the rule change, however, I discovered someone else far more aggravating: Katniss Everdeen, the female tribute from District Twelve, one of the "Star-Crossed Lovers" who inspired Mr. Crane's rash rule change. The simpletons of the Capitol look at her and see a girl fighting for love. But I have succeeded in politics by being able to see through false pretenses. And in this girl, I see very little of the supposed love for the boy tribute from her District. Instead, I see something far more dangerous than love: rebellion. The girl is extremely skilled with the bow-and-arrow, far beyond anything she could have acquired in the short week of training. There can only be one explanation for her skill: she's one of those criminals that defy the Capitol's laws and sneak into the woods outside of her District to hunt. And then, the girl spent ten minutes decorating the body of a fallen ally with flowers. The message could not be more clear: "I choose to give my fellow tribute in death the honor that you would not give her while she was alive." All of my instincts tell me that Miss Everdeen is extremely dangerous.
So as the final days of the Games wound down, I found myself rooting more and more for the demise of the tributes of District Twelve. Despite Seneca Crane's attempts to ensure only one winner, however, the pair survived to the final day. Perhaps the Gamemakers could have manipulated things to stack the odds in favor of the boy from District Two, but it is always a delicate matter when so many people have money invested in the other tributes, whether through betting or sponsorship. Anything too obvious could raise questions of whether the results are fixed, and erode confidence in the Games as a competition. The Gamemakers did their best, first arranging a feast to bring District Twelve out of hiding. It almost succeeded, but instead it backfired spectacularly because of the intervention of the boy from District Eleven. Not only did he prevent the girl from District Two from killing Miss Everdeen, but then he committed his own act of defiance by showing mercy and sparing Miss Everdeen's life when he was in a position to eliminate her. That act would later cost him his life, but the problem of District Twelve still remained.
Yesterday, the Gamemakers unleashed wolf muttations to chase the boy named Cato to the Cornucopia for the final confrontation – chasing but not injuring him. They were far less kind to the tributes from District Twelve, but somehow once again both managed to survive a furious and bloody battle. And when Cato, rather than one of the weaker District Twelve tributes, tumbled off of the Cornucopia, it was too late to intervene. The muttations kept him alive all night, but what was left was in no condition to battle District Twelve in the morning. One shot from Katniss Everdeen and we are down to the final two.
So Seneca Crane is forced to play the final card in his hand. Claudius Templesmith announces that the rule change has been rescinded, much to the chagrin of the Capitol audience, who had become enamoured with the idea of having two victors. But I am far more interested in what is unfolding in the arena. The only chance that the Gamemakers have of avoiding catastrophe is if the pair from District Twelve turn on each other and give us a bloody fight to the death.
They don't. I watch in annoyance as the two argue about which one deserves the right to die to allow the other to win. I can see the defiance building in them. They are no longer willing to follow the whims of the Gamemakers. But the boy is badly injured and fading fast. There is still hope that the Games will end properly.
But then the girl pulls out a handful of poisonous berries. They appear willing to commit joint suicide rather than fight each other. Or are they? I see a look of concentration on Miss Everdeen's face as she brings the berries to her mouth and starts to count. She doesn't look like someone who is planning to die, but rather someone with something up her sleeve.
That's when the realization dawns on me. The Gamemakers think that there must be a winner. She is betting that they will not be willing to have no winner. And Seneca Crane may just be foolish enough to fall for it.
"Kill her," I whisper. The Gamemakers could press a button and have her instantly vaporized. "Kill her!" I repeat, now shouting at my television screen.
I reach for the phone to call Gamemaker Headquarters to deliver my instructions directly, but it is already too late. Claudius Templesmith is already making a desperate plea for the "Star-Crossed Lovers" to stop, and announcing them as co-victors.
There are no words for the rage that I feel. Katniss Everdeen has defied the Gamemakers, the Capitol, and by extension, me as the ultimate authority of Panem. And the entire country just witnessed her standing up to Seneca Crane and winning. I think of how tenuous our hold on the Districts is, and I realize that this act could inspire something far greater. Seneca Crane has failed me.
As I witness the Capitol audience's exhilarated reaction to the news that both tributes would be allowed to live, I realize that something must be done about the Capitol populace's unhealthy infatuation with Hunger Games victors. Perhaps, for the Quarter Quell... But first things first. Seneca Crane will suffer the consequences of his failure. Then, I will deal with Miss Everdeen…
~Fin~
One more A/N: The "floating arena" described is from "From Fearful to Fearsome" by the great be-nice-to-nerds. If you would like to read a Johanna story, I highly recommend it, as well as her sequel "Saving Fire".
