A/N: Still no reviews? You guys don't love me? :C

Chapter 4: To See Sense

"I tried to make them see with their hearts rather than their minds."

Riven fell into a chair next to Lyria with a groan. "Alright, Lyr," he said, passing a paper that he'd been pouring over all morning, "if you're sure you want to do this, I will close the deal with Ryanne's mentor today. In the event that either of you die, the other will continue to have the support of your sponsors, unless they choose to pull their money." Riven gave the soon-to-be 11 year old a meaningful glance.

Lyria returned the look before taking another piece of fruit from a little bowl in front of her and tossing it in the air. She leaned back a little and the melon ball landed softly in her little mouth. Lyria made a sound of contentment and waved him off, saying, "Close the deal."

Riven nodded. "Alright." He couldn't help thinking maybe he should be trying to talk her out of it or maybe make more of an effort to see just how sure about this whole alliance thing she was. After all, she'd approached him last night with the idea of teaming of with the District 7 girl and had only given a very short, rather unfeeling account of how she'd come to the conclusion that Ryanne Valour was her best choice for surivival. What was worse was that when he pressed for details, she shut down and said something about talking about it over training - which she'd also refused to talk about. Riven didn't know how to handle her moods and the way they changed. One moment, she could be a happy child and the next she was a wise young woman. "So what's your plan in training with Ryanne today?" he asked, hoping to get something out of her.

Lyria popped another melon ball into her mouth and shrugged. "Well, I spent a lot of time in survival, fire building and identifying edible plants yesterday so Ryanne suggested I get at least a little weapons training in beforehand. We're thinking knives."

That was more than he could have hoped for, based on how tight-lipped she'd been the night before. Riven nodded, secretly pleased that she was taking all of this seriously, but without panic. "Alright. That'd probably be your best bet, considering how slight you are. And it's always good to have a good offense to add to a defensive strategy. I suggest learning how to throw them because letting yourself within arm's length of any of your competitors would probably be unwise."

Lyria took this into consideration briefly, mulling it over in her head for a moment before nodded her consent. "That's true. If I'm close enough to strike with a little knife, they're close enough to break my little neck." She pushed back from her chair, and hopped off the slightly too high chair. "Thanks, Riven. See you after practice." She waved as she left the room and the only thing he could do was watch her leave with a sick feeling in his stomach.

~Sacrificed With Love~

Ryanne handed Lyria another knife. They'd been at this for hours, Lyria still couldn't hit the dummy any place vital and she couldn't feel her fingertips where they clasped onto the knife anymore. Nonetheless, she arced her arm back and then quickly flicked it forward, releasing the hilt. It flew threw the air straight, and with a whistling sound, but when it hit the target, the butt of the knife hit it first, so it rebounded and clattered onto the floor with a metallic ringing that reverberated inside Lyria's head, mocking her.

Lyria's thoughts weren't the only things mocking her - other tributes were laughing now. Only a few, more polite tributes seemed unconcerned by her small blunder, but others mocked her openly. 1 and 4 and even Aiden was snickering at her, as if he hadn't been horrified at the very idea of her competing a couple days beforehand. Now, her failure was a source of amusement.

Lyria turned bright red, hiding part of her face in a mass of red hair on instinct. Ryanne glared at their competitors contemptuously, taking note of just who was laughing. It wasn't a surprise to see the careers laughing or see that Tristan was not, but the others she had no clue about. The taller brunette moved with a cat-like grace toward the dummy that Lyria and she'd been practicing on for well over an hour now. She plucked the couple blades Lyria had managed to stick from the mock person and then the assortment of scattered knives that laid haphazardly around its base from her less successful attempts. She brought them back to the young girl who took one and tried again.

The knife clattered to the ground again and Lyria physically winced at the sound, hating it with every inch of her being. The laughter turned up a notch, though now the metallic sound of the knife against the floor overshadowed the inane human voices.

Jewel was sneering, marring her perfectly beautiful face with the ugly expression. "What's the matter?" the blond asked, taunting the younger tribute. "Too stupid to figure out which end of the knife is sharp?" This was met with another round of laughter that had Lyria blushing redder than her hair, making the freckles that flecked her face disappear in the absolute scarlet of her face. Hot tears pricked behind her eyes, but she didn't let them fall - just picked up another knife and made a blind throw. It went over the dummy and another metallic clattering had Lyria ready to quit and just go back to survival.

When she said as much to Ryanne, she was met with stern denial and another knife was pressed into her palm. This went on for a good half hour, her only renewal of hope being when she finally hit the dummy in the head, managing to make the blade stick.

It was right after this that a knife flew right in front of her face, just barely missing her nose, and embedded itself in the wall behind her. Lyria froze for a second, realizing what had just happened, an turned with a certain amount of reluctance toward the wall. The knife stuck solidly, the blade buried a good two inches into the wood. Lyria gulped, knowing that if she'd leaned forward ever so slightly, she could be missing a chunk of her face.

Lyria didn't have to look to know where it came from, but she did anyway. Ryanne was already glaring at the blond who had a mock innocent look on her face. "Oops," Jewel said, her voice dripping with candy-coated venom, "sorry."

She wasn't. Lyria knew it and Ryanne certainly knew it.

Jewel turned away from them, going back to what looked to be whip training. It wasn't surprising - only the most sadistic people used whips in the arena because they don't kill; they're just extremely painful.

Lyria didn't know what set Ryanne off after that - the fact that the girl had clearly been aiming for her or the fact that she continued to make disparaging remarks - but a few moments later, there was a sharp movement in the peripheral of Lyria's vision and she turned just in time to see Ryanne release the blade in the direction of Jewel, though she made it look like a freak accident. The blade flew straight and true, right past the nasty girl's face. She screamed and careened back, though if the knife had actually been meant to hit her, it would have been far too late. Jewel hit a weapons stand, making weapons rain around her, though none - unfortunately - even put a scratch on her.

Bron leaned down and offered Jewel a hand, clearly laughing at her. Jewel slapped his hand away and got up, looking livid. She made the slicing motion across her neck before stomping off.

Ryanne turned back to look at Lyria and winked conspiratorially. "Oops."

Tristan approached the two giggling girl's, though at the sight of him, Lyria quickly shut up and made herself scarce, which made Ryanne snort. Tristan looked at Ryanne, one eyebrow cocked. "That was really stupid and you let your temper get the best of you." Ryanne didn't even look slightly admonished as she shrugged with a cheeky smirk. He sighed and shook his head, but he smiled too. "Good shot," he complimented before going back to whatever station he had been working at before hand.

Lyria seemed to poof back into existence once he was gone, startling Ryanne. "Whose that?" the redhead asked, though she remembered his name. She was really asking about what was the relationship between the two of them.

"My cousin, Tristan Whitlock," Ryanne answered, quickly pulling a knife and pressing it into Lyria's palm, "now back to work, Little Red."

~Sacrificed With Love~

The next day, Lyria's shaky performance with the knife had improved to the point where she could easily stick a knife into the chest of a target, moving or stationary thanks to the help of one very brave trainer, but couldn't have hit someone in the head if her life depended on it. Ryanne pronounced her skill with the knife "good enough" and they went back to the other stations. Turned out, despite the red hair and freckles, Lyria was a master of disappearing.

"So what are you going to show them?" Ryanne asked as they waited to show their abilities. Bron had already gone in and Jewel was waiting to go next, meaning that it would be a very short time before it was Lyria's turn.

Lyria shrugged. "Knife throwing, maybe camouflage. Maybe that really elaborate knot I learned yesterday. I don't know. I was hoping it would come to me." Because Lyria had no idea what would impress them. If she could find a way to make her talent for dishonesty work for her, that would be great, but she wasn't sure if an opportunity for witty falsities would present itself. And if it did, it would probably be her best stroke of luck ever. "What are you going to do?" Lyria asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from her - the more she thought about it, the more she felt like she was going to fail miserably.

Ryanne quirked her lips to the side, as if she were thinking it over. Jewel was called in, though Lyria only noticed because of how close it was to her turn. "I guess I'll toss around an ax or two - try to impress with strength and accuracy."

"Well there goes my plan of copying you," Lyria joked.

Ryanne smiled a bit and jokingly shoved her. Aiden was called in, leaving Lyria to go next. She wasn't made to wait long. A mere couple of moments afterwards, they called her name and she was forced to leave Ryanne, who patted her on the back comfortingly before letting her go. "Make me proud," the older girl said with a grin, making Lyria feel very young and very much like a little sister.

Lyria was led into the gym area which now seemed large, unfeeling and solitary without the trainers and other tributes running about. What was left were the ever-present Gamemakers whose eyes followed her movements with a keenness that they'd lacked during actual training.

Lyria walked over to the weapons stand and picked up a handful of daggers and took her stance, facing the wooden wall that Jewel's knife had embedded itself in the day before. She threw the first knife and it stuck with a solid thunk in the wood which eased her fear of messing up a little and she continued. Lyria had no idea what possessed her to do it, but almost without realizing it, she'd begun to spell something out on the wall with the knives. She had to go back several times in order to grab more knives, but she was rather pleased with her product when she threw the last knife and it stuck.

"I'm too young to die," was spelled out clearly across the wall in glinting knives and Lyria turned to the Gamemakers.

"By a show of hands, how many of you have children?" she asked, though her tone was very adult and very demanding. At first, no one responded. "No, really, I want to know. How many of you have children?"

There was so much authority in her tone, some of the Gamemakers couldn't help but raise their hands. There were a couple parents among them, especially the women. Lyria made a big show of counting them, and when she'd finished, she nodded, looking thoughtful. "So a little less than half of you. Now, how many of you have children between the ages of 12 and 18?" she asked. Several hands went down, though a couple went up. "Uh-huh. Now how many of you have children under the age of 12?" The Gamemakers responded accordingly, some now just curious to see where she was going with this more than anything.

Lyria spotted one man who'd had his hand up for both between the ages of 12 and 18 and the under 12. "You sir," she said, locking eyes with him and pointing to him, just so there was no confusion. "How many children do you have?"

"Three," he answered.

"And what are there names and ages?" Lyria demanded to know. It was shocking, really, how much potency her mere tone contained and how it compelled you to listen.

The man, who was a bit bigger in stature with grey shades to his skin looked taken aback for a moment, not quite sure if he should provide this information or not, but her charm won out and he finally said, "My oldest is Reig; he's 17. My second child is Massia, she's 13. And then my youngest is 9 and his name is Hastings."

Lyria nodded and began pacing back and forth, looking as if she were contemplating the creation of the universe. "I'm going to assume you love all of your children, if I might sir." The man made a move to reply, but she held up a hand, stopping him. "That was rhetorical, sir. Now, how horrified would you be at the prospect of sending Hastings into the Games to fight for his life against 24 other hardened teenagers who are all reaching for the same goal - survival?" Lyria knew, being a Capitol resident, this fear had probably never crossed his mind; she was going to make them think about it.

The man's skin went from grey-toned to pallor white in a couple seconds. "I don't think I could take it."

"Do you feel the same for Massia and Reig who, at their current age, if they lived in one of the Districts would be up for being Reaped this very year?" Lyria asked of him, her voice getting harder and harder. Even other Gamemakers were starting to feel uneasy. "Because, I for one would think just because they're a little older doesn't mean you'd be ready to send them off to their deaths. Unless I'm completely misjudging your love, sir."

The man stood up, now looking a cross between horrified and livid. "Of course not! I love all my children! I wouldn't want to see any of them in the Games - ever!"

"SO WHY THE HELL ARE WE DIFFERENT?"

Lyria's yell rang around the room, sending all the Gamemakers into silence. It was clear she'd made some leeway into their minds - made them think about something outside their silly Capitol lives. Lyria took several deep breaths before saying, "I think I've made my point. I'd like to be excused, please."

One of the Gamemakers gave the go ahead for her to leave - she was gone before the last word had left his mouth.

~Sacrificed With Love~

Aiden felt really uncomfortable, sitting next to a sulking Lyria who looked as if she were ready to kill the nearest thing (ahem, him.) From the moment Lyria had come back to their quarters, she'd been all biting comments and vague answers about what had happened down in the gym with the Gamemakers. The only thing she'd said that Aiden could discern from her snarling was, "I tried to make them see with their hearts rather than their minds." And then she'd gone back to growling - literally growling - at people.

Aiden didn't think he could take being around her much longer, emotionally. She was exhausting! He didn't even want to imagine what it must be like, actually experiencing the emotional roller coaster she seemed to be stuck on at all times.

Lecks sat down next to the foul tempered red-head, handing her a bowl of what looked like something chocolate, which she grudgingly thanked him for and started on immediately. Aiden found himself feeling very sorry for the spoon if the sound of her teeth clanking against it was any indication to how hard she was biting it.

Riven was watching the girl with a mix of annoyance and fascination. She was in such a foul mood, but she refused to speak of what put her in this funk. She hadn't been ill tempered beforehand so he couldn't possibly have guess what had spoiled her mood.

The Capitol's symbol passed over the screen with the same little anthem they always played with official announcements. Lyria watched with a growl building up in her chest as Bron's face appeared on the screen, a broad 9 flashing under it, followed by Jewel, who'd managed only a 6. Lyria was expecting a low score, especially with how she ended her little tirade, but that didn't lessen the severity of her temper. It's true - there is no temper like that of a redhead. Aiden's face flashed up on the screen, displaying his 7 proudly.

Lyria's own smiling face appeared on screen, her hair arranged in ringlets, her teeth gleaming brightly. And underneath her picture flashed a 10, big as life.

Lyria mouth dropped open as Zoros congratulated her and Riven gave her a smug look. Aiden gaped at the young tribute, wondering just how in the hell someone so small had managed to score so high. It wasn't like she could show off her wits. His small advantage had been taken away. He was in her long-stretched shadow again.

They watched the rest of the tributes, Lyria noting some of the other tribute's scores. Ryanne had managed a 9, so perhaps the axes had been kind to her tougher persona. Her cousin, Tristan, had managed a 10, matching Lyria. The girl from 8 that had struck Lyria as intelligent before had only managed a 3.

Others who had managed to pull high scores included Cale, the girl from District 4, who managed to match Bron with a 9, and Marris, the boy from 12, had the highest score of all, managing to earn an 11. Lyria was surprised by how low the scores were for some. For instance, Teira, who Lyria had looked at as a threat right from the beginning had only managed a 5. Of course, these scores weren't a true indication at times - it was merely Gamemakers showing their favorites off to the rest of Panem.

Zoros looked especially pleased at news that Lyria had managed to score so highly. "My dear girl," the man started, looking like the Games had come early for him - all pre-packed and won. "Whatever went on in there to gain you such a high rating?"

Lyria merely smiled. "I appealed to their humanity."

Lecks patted her on the back and said, "Well, the hardest part's over for you." No one missed how he didn't include Aiden in this statement. "The next thing is the interviews and they're all smitten with you. I couldn't imagine how you could possibly mess those up. I think you're in excellent shape for the games." Now he spoke to them both. "Tomorrow, you have training. While I work with Aiden on content, Zoros will work with Lyria on the presentation. Then switch - Lyria will go work with Riven while Aiden works with Zoros." Lecks looked between the two tributes. "Is that clear?"

Both tributes nodded. Riven pulled Lyria aside to talk to her, though he was only able to gather that she'd tried talking to them, which never worked with Capitol people. They were so superfluous and could never understand the hardships that the Districts endured - even highly favored districts like 2.

Lyria was a very gentle soul in a long line of killers, but she still had a spirit - a spirit that inspired and seemed unbreakable, though the girl who housed it was very fragile. Riven couldn't help but see it and he knew Lecks had seen the same - perhaps even that silly man Zoros. He couldn't fathom how he should be the one to make it shine out, above all the other tributes.

The young redhead beckoned for him to lean down and she pecked him on the cheek before skipping off to her room. Again, she surprised him. How quickly her moods changed; how much she cared for others. Lyria was an amazing young girl who shone all by herself.

Lyria entered her room and headed straight toward her panoramic view window to gaze at the nightlife of the city. It never stopped down there, it seemed to her. By this time, people in her District would be settling down to go to bed, or off to go for a drink at the pub. But there were never parties this late at night; there were never massive celebrations that kept people in their homes awake well after a decent hour. She crossed her arms and watched thoughtfully, wondering what must be going through their minds and what life meant to people who had the luxury of taking it for granted.

It was late that night when Riven entered the room to check on her, just like he had the first night on the train and every night since, that he saw her curled up in the fetal position on the windowsill, an overly large shirt hiding her tiny form from the rest of the world. Her head was laid against the glass.

He couldn't bear to leave her there. Slowly, he crept across the room, so as not to rouse her. She didn't stir in the slightest. The strong District 2 tribute, who had at one point been known as a merciless killer, looked at her with gentility, and reached down to pick her up. He slipped one arm under her thin legs, the other cradling her back and lifted her easily - she couldn't have weighed more then seventy pounds. Lyria hummed a little, her head turning in her sleep to land against Riven's strong chest. He smiled and carried her towards the bed.

Riven drew back the covers and gently deposited the tiny form on the bed that could easily fit someone five times her size. Her curls fell in a mass behind her, framing her sweet face in a a fiery red and Riven couldn't help but thinking about this child's future. Die or return to District 2 and be alone again.

Perhaps those Gamemakers shouldn't be the only one's thinking with their hearts.

A/N: Hey guys! So Chapter 4 is finished!

I can't believe how quickly and constantly I've been able to keep updating. Maybe at this rate, I'll finish a story that's more than a one-shot.

Anyhow, please, please, please, please review! I've had virtually none so far and that makes Jassy sad! So please leave some sort of comments on your thoughts on this story. Do you like Lyria? Ryanne? What's been your favorite part so far? Let me know, please!

Happy Hunger Games~

Madly Yours,
Jassabella