The Princess Of Panem

Chapter Four: Royal Euphoria

By BluebirdBrigade


Aurora


.

.

.

I slept a grand total of 5 hours. It wasn't much but it wasn't bad in the sense that I was sleeping in an unfamiliar environment. Effie didn't go mental when she saw us, like I had originally thought. I guess she saw so many tributes so through the same, it was such a regular occurrence that it didn't faze her.

Chris and I got along pretty well, we spoke together at the breakfast to the bemusement of Haymitch and Effie. Tributes never got along unless they were careers. Or if they formed allies. But it was fine, because in my mind me and Chris already were and he seemed to think so too. I would have been worried that Chris was trying to pull the wool over my eyes, string me along and then kill me in the arena but he had a heart of gold. He was mature for his age but at the same time he had the young boyishness in his face that my brother in his early twenties lacked.

The food was utter heaven and I was beginning to believe that maybe that was what I would miss when I died. But at least I managed to get myself a decent meal before I died. Naturally, I wanted to live but if I had the option I would want to die on the first day. Those deaths were usually quick and painless. As the days carried on and the tributes decreased, the deaths became more painful and torturous. Some were not even committed by the tributes themselves, but by the game makers. Or as I liked to put it: the types of people who didn't seem to have a soul.

Haymitch finally put down his liquor and turned squarely towards us, his mouth setting in a grim line. "We'll be arriving in 20 minutes." He had just been informed by one of the capitol servers on deck.

"That soon?" I questioned nervously. He nodded and then purposely turned his back towards us and made his way towards the window. I watched him in confusion but dismissed the thought from my mind. My stomach had begun to clench and tighten at the thought of seeing the Capitol people.

For one bizarre moment all I could think of was, "Will they like me?" and then I realised it didn't matter if they did. I'd be dead in less than a week. Haymitch seemed adamant that we collect as many sponsors as we could, and Haymitch knew more about these games than I did. It must have been painful and mind-numbingly horrific to watch the tributes you got to know and mentor die before your eyes. Liquor had a hold of him now, gripping him to the point that he lost sanity and edged his way further into the darkness. I couldn't remember the last time he had been…happy. Like really happy.

Effie was squeaking about and clicking her heels against the floor in impatience which I found quite distracting. Christian and I spoke quietly with one another, voicing our worries and looking as if we were about to be sick all over the hallway floor.

Finally, Haymitch gave a roar of a laugh and his shoulders shook. We walked over to him curiously only to see millions of Capitol people all straining themselves to see us. Christian shrank back, shy and I just stood there mesmerised by the unbelievable mass of colour. They all seemed to blur into one like a rainbow.

The train screeched to a halt yet we felt nothing but the noise that let us know the train had stopped moving. A woman dressed in red handed me a small bag that when I opened it was filled with products from the train. Capitol-esque gels and creams.

"Thankyou." I smiled at her and she nodded, bowing her head so low I was sure she had fallen asleep. "Are you sure?" They looked pricey.

She didn't answer but instead nodded again. I was confused but when I turned to Haymitch he just answered solemnly, "She's an Avox."

"An Avox?" asked Christian and I simultaneously. I had never heard of an Avox.

"As punishment for the crimes they've committed, they have their tongues cut out." He asked simply as if this was an everyday occurance question. But as he said this, the hair on the back of my neck stood on edge. Tongues cut out? I felt sicker than I had been before.

Haymitch watched my expression and mumbled something unintelligible but before I had time to ask him to repeat what he had just said, the door to the train opened. Capitol people surged forwards like an army of colour, thrashing against the white soldiers who kept them back. Cameras flashed and questions were hurled at us like knives but we never had time to answer them even if we had wanted to. My vision felt distorted and there was sparsely any room to breathe as we hurried away from the crowds of people.

The rest of the journey felt as if it didn't happen. One minute we were on the platform and being scratched alive by a thousand screaming Capitol people and the next we were separated from each other. I ended up in a large metal room with a thin, blue gown wrapped around my figure which made me feel naked and exposed.

5 minutes passed by as I sat by myself in silence and thought about the past few days. Everything was happening far too fast. It was unbelievable and shocking how much had happened in so little time. I missed my brother too much. I missed him like I was missing a piece of my body. My hands felt numb and my legs trembled when I thought about him. He was the last part of me. He was the best part of me. He was the right part of me.

The door banged open, the sound ricocheting of the walls and deafening my ears for a couple of seconds. I stared in horror and curiosity at the faces of whom I supposed where my stylists. Each were different in their own way. One had piercings in her cheeks, leaf like tattoos around her eyebrows with startlingly long pink eyelashes. Another was covered from head to toe in a green dye, which suited her emerald green eyes but made her look even less human. The last had chocolate coloured hair which seemed to glitter and seemed to wear a permanent pout on her face. Her lips were purple, and her eyes were silver. I was fascinated by what I saw but in all honesty I was terrified at the thought of them touching me.

"LOOK AT HER HAIR!" One of them shrieked, immediately flocking towards me and scooping up a strand into her manicured fingers. She smiled wildly like an animal and turned to the others who were looking equally gleeful. "Just like they said it would be!"

I just sat there, resisting the urge to pull away and bolt. Haymitch said listen to them and do what they say. That's what I'm doing. This better be good.

"Isn't she just adorable! Like a doll!" Mortified, I hugged my knees to my chest and looked up at them in fear. They laughed like hyeena's and commanded me to lie flat on my back while they worked their 'magic'.

Everything on my body was primped to perfection. The hairs on my legs had been ripped away in a very painful experience, as were the stray hairs on my eyebrows. My nails were cleaned, filed and manicured and to my utter embarrassment, my body was revealed and rubbed down in a shiny lotion that smelt like jasmine but felt heavy against my skin.

All the while they made comments that sent blushes to my cheeks, and made me want to scream. My heart hammered everytime they opened their mouths.

"Look at her, so slim. No doubt her stomach will tone up during training. They work them so hard."

"Regal chin, just like Lucinda May of the darlington committee…"

"Her skin is slightly tanned. Ladies should stay out of the sun young lady! Freckling is bad for the complexion." One of them, I couldn't be bothered to figure out which one, tittered.

After a while of this 'magic' they sat me up and began to put different colours onto my skin. No doubt they were beautifying me for slaughter. Making me feel like I was worth something before I died. At least, more than a slab of meat. My eyelashes were elongated by some sort of liquid and some shimmer powder was dabbed across my eyelids. My skin felt heavy from all this foreign 'make-up'.

"Is this for all for the ceremony?" I asked tentatively. They seemed delighted that I had finally addressed them. After hearing the witter on about this, that and the other and gossiping, I got used to them being around me. They still didn't feel human, but it was due to this that I no longer felt self-conscious of my body.

"Yes! But it will be Cinna who gets to play about with your hair." She pouted at this but shrugged it off. "He and Portia have your costume."

Oh.

"Right." I said, closing my eyes for a moment. I hoped that they wouldn't give me something that was exposing or worse. I was quite frightened about what they would do. "We're still coal miners and everything."

They all looked at eachother and grinned excitedly. I frowned bemusedly, and quickly asked them why they were acting like that.

"Well, actually this year's Hunger games is going to be different!" Cried one of them, the one who was dyed blue. Her teeth gleamed oddly against the tint of her skin.

"What do you mean, different?"

"Last week, President snow's grandson was born!" Exclaimed the same one, looking ecstatic. They all clapped in enthusiasm. I frowned.

"And?"

"Well, to honour his birth, they decided to change some aspects of the games!"

"Shh, Marya! You're not meant to be telling her everything." Hissed the pouty one, glaring at the woman slightly. "You'll get in trouble."

So they were changing things about this year. No doubt to their advantage. They were going to kill us more gruesomely for their entertainment. To honour a child. I felt like I was going to vomit on the floor from distress but instead I just sat their, in my sweaty skin.

"Sorry." She didn't look it because she gave me a smile. "But to clarify, you won't be coal related this year."

What? But that was our theme! What was the Capitol doing? Everyone longed to see the designs that the stylists came up with every year but apparently such a thing would not happen this time around. It seemed impossible to my ear but I guess that I'd have to just wait and see.

They left me alone after what felt like hours of fiddling with me and making me feel like a fragmented puppet within their deformed palms. But almost as soon as they had left, the door opened and in stepped a man of dark colouring and beautiful eyes. He was young and seemed pretty human to me so I relaxed. The only alteration to his human physique was a line of gold on his eyelid, but that seemed to enhance his eyes further. He gave me a kind smile and stepped towards me slowly. I backed away on my weird bed that lay in the centre of the room.

He didn't frighten me but I was apprehensive to what he was here for. He ducked his head in a bow which not only shocked me but angered me.

"What are you doing?" I said gruffly to him.

"Bowing to royalty." He straightened and gave me a gleaming smile. I gave a short laugh-like gasp and shook my head.

"I'm not royalty."

"Your appearance begs to differ." He stated quite flatly. I reached up self-consciously to my hair and tugged on a strand. "How did a girl from District 12, end up with hair as silver as yours?"

"None of your business." I replied quite rudely. But I didn't care. I felt exposed and upset by everything. Couldn't they just leave me alone. Who was this person anyway?

"I'm sorry for offending you and scaring you." Said the man. I looked up as him in confusion because no one had spoken to me like such. Everyone had been saying how 'lucky' I was. How excited I should be. No one had apologised in any sense. "I'm sorry for everything that's happened." My eyes popped out of my head. Had he really just said that? Defied the Capitol, most likely. But he didn't seem fazed.

I began to trust him slightly. "It's okay. I'm sorry for being rude."

"Rude?" He scoffed. "If anyone is rude, it's…" But he stopped for a second as he ran his hands through my hair.

"You're Cinna?" I suddenly blurted out, realising who the man before me was. He nodded slightly and asked me to take of my robe. I blushed red and felt my palms shake. It was a lot different exposing myself to the other garish capitol stylist because I could pretend they were like animals. But Cinna was definitely human. And male.

"It's okay." He murmured gently. "It's just you and me."

I nodded and released the robe from around my figure and lay down on the bed, looking determinedly up as the ceiling. Cinna circled me a couple of times and then asked me to sit up. He pulled me over to a chair, and lay out tools on a desk.

"You have no doubt heard of the change in plans from my gossiping stylists." When I nodded, he sighed. "There will be district theme this year. They want to change things up to make this year special. More…entertaining." I let out a snort at this and Cinna smiled at me.

"So what is going to happen?"

Cinna looked me dead in the eye and let his mouth tug gently at the corners. "This year, the stylists get to choose what you wear. It's a fashion contest. President Snow is picking the winner."

"So…what does the winner get?"

Cinna gave a short laugh, almost bitter but amused. "Nothing. It's the hunger games. But it's what you inadvertently get…"

"Sponsors."

"Exactly." He suddenly surveyed me and I had forgotten I was completely naked. I turned my face away from his gaze and pretended to find something interesting on the floor. "Have you even looked at yourself in the mirror?"

"What?" The question had startled me. I looked over at the glass in the corner of the room. I didn't want to look. Cinna pursed his lips for a moment and then called to someone who was presumably outside. He walked over to the door and reached around and brought in a dress that was veiled by black material.

"What's that…?"

But I already knew even before he removed the cloth and showed me that it was my costume. But I never imagined that in my life I would see something so beautifully constructed and delicate. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I gazed at the fabric and then as Cinna in absolute euphoria.

"Tonight, Aurora, you are the Princess of Panem."

.

.

.


I love writing this story! Thank you for the beautiful reviews! Sorry for leaving you on a cliff-hanger (sort of) but it had to be done ;)

Lex