Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games.
Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and submitted so far! (though most of you are shady af)
Call To Arms.
Chapter Two: Lust.
Prologue, Part Two.
Everything was falling into place.
Counsellor Lisanna had always been known for her dirty tactics. It was no secret that she blackmailed officials in order to climb the ranks much quicker. Convenient dirt pulled up on her rivals for the role. But this. . .it was almost surreal. She hadn't even planned for it to fall into place so easily.
The dark night above provided the perfect cover for a discreet meeting of minds. Even though it ran smoothly, there was still fear that the truth would be unearthed. Lisanna had to stay vigilant and be smart. One false move would be her untimely downfall.
"I'm still in shock that Valor agreed," Commander Ares walked by her side, shoulder to shoulder. His crimson eyes twinkled devilishly in the dark. "I was expecting to, you know. . .have to fight it out like with Fennix."
"Yes, me too," Lisanna frowned. Why had he agreed to it?
They walked through Belsarion Manor's gardens. Rose bushes lined either side of the garden path, highlighted by the eerie glow of lanterns adorned on sticks. It was beautiful in the light, but seemed creepy at night. Lisanna should've been worried about spies - however, Belsarion had since dismissed most of his staff. The reasons were unknown, but it was pretty clear that Belsarion was coming apart at the seams.
"He's becoming paranoid, you know," Lisanna pointed out.
"Hmm? Belsarion? Yeah, I'm not quite sure either. He's been acting even more weirder than normal. . .do you think he's lost the plot?"
Lisanna pondered that thought for a moment. "Surely not. He just won a war. . ."
". . .I won a war. . ."
". . .But normally, he would never agree to such an idea," Lisanna ignored Ares entirely, "I knew my idea would cause friction. I knew that Fennix would shoot it down because he believes in unity and peace, not power. But then Valor agreed. . .and Belsarion conceded completely. Didn't even answer. Just a pitiful nod."
They came to the pond. A wooden bridge arched over the murky waters. The moonlight reflected on the surface, stirring the restless fish. Ares took Lisanna's hand - and she tried her best not to flinch at his callous fingers on her body - and guided her over it.
"Don't overthink it," Ares reminded her as they stopped in the middle, admiring the peaceful surroundings in privacy.
Lisanna rolled her eyes. Ares didn't see it. "I have to, Ares. Don't be so naive. In order to stay one step ahead, I need to work out what the pair of them are even thinking."
She had planned for this for so long. She needed support - and Ares was just the right amount of violence and stupidity to be manipulated - but her plan could easily come undone if Belsarion or Valor had ulterior motives. She had to find out what their game was. It was crucial.
"Do you still have your spies?"
Ares - who was too busy admiring Lisanna's porcelain features in the dark - stared away, "Of course."
"I need to know what Valor's motive is."
"Sorted," Ares leaned forward, "Does that earn me a kiss?"
Lisanna grimaced as she leaned in, kissing Ares softly on the cheek. He turned, brought his hands up to her face, but she backed away. "Only after I find out what I need to know, Ares. This is important. We can play kissy-kissy after."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll find out the dirt on him. And then what?"
"And then we plot. But for now. . .we watch Belsarion light the torch that will set fire to the districts."
His headache was getting increasingly worse.
The door to the home office was ajar. Noise fluttered through: sharp and piercing, like a machete to his brain. He strained his eyes as he looked up, barely aware of his own surroundings. Dim light crept through the doorway like tendrils, followed by a shadow. The figure made their way across the room, lighting candles on the wall as they went. Soon, the dark was chased away by an orange hue.
"Honey?"
He laughed, "No, that's you. . ."
Honey Belsarion stopped at her husband's desk, smiling fondly at their recurring joke. It was a warm memory. It had helped her cope throughout the war. Whenever she feared for the worse or her husband's sanity, she would only have to say that word, and his response flooded her with hope.
But now. . .her husband was a shell of his former self. No longer handsome with an air of power, but rather sickly and withdrawn.
"Have you taken your medication?" She asked him.
He mumbled an answer, before leaning up. His dark eyes were almost black. "I'm not a baby. . .Honey."
She frowned, "I never said you were. Obviously they're not helping, are they? Shall I call Doctor Courrine again?"
Belsarion's head shot up. He reeled, clutching his throbbing skull. "There's no need. I'm sure it'll pass. . ." But as he said it, he felt a wave of sickness come on. He didn't have time to hold back. Vomit shot from his mouth, splattering as it hit the desk.
"Oh. . .Lex," Honey pulled her husband up from his slumped position, rubbing his back, "I wish I knew how to make you feel better."
The truth was that Honey was scared. Lex Belsarion was everything to her. They never had children. His political career was too demanding, and the spotlight would have been unfair. They had each other. But day by day, it was as if Lex was slipping through her fingers and she couldn't stop it. She could only watch as fragments of her husband fell away.
She leaned him back in his chair, "I wish you'd just rest."
"I can't. . .I have to make the speech for later."
Downstairs, the camera crew was setting up their equipment. In a matter of an hour, a live feed would be broadcast around Panem to the expecting citizens of the districts. Belsarion would have to tell them that he was taking kids - not innocent, but kids all the same - and pitting them in an arena against their will. And not even now. Not for a few months. A deep, seedy part of him hoped that many would hide or escape the oncoming capture.
A knock at the door pulled his focus. Behind Honey, a man walked in: his violet hair was gelled up, a neat matching beard on his face. He held an air of confidence and grace as he kissed Honey on the cheek.
"Lex!" He opened his arms up, a dramatic show, "You're not looking as hot as you use to. . .the new look doesn't wear you well."
Belsarion chuckled breathlessly, "It's nice to see you again, Arase."
Arase Perrault was a man of the media. Every citizen in Panem knew him by his trademark use of violet in everything he wore, but more so for his latest, hard-hitting piece of journalism on District Thirteen's entire annihilation - from their treachery to their demise.
"Can I get you a drink, Arase?" Honey offered with a soft smile.
"No, thank you! We're on the clock!" He clapped his hands, turning to Belsarion, "I need to get you looking less like a corpse and more like a man who has an entire country under his thumb!"
Note: Submissions are still open. The form and any information can be found on my profile. Please do not hesitate to message me if you have any queries. It is open submissions - and when the deadline closes, I will draw my final decisions.
I want to expand on the origin story a lot more, putting the pieces into place. The final two prologues should hopefully help you catch up with this "verse" and the major changes I'm going to be installing.
I hope you are enjoying so far and, as always, please review :)
