District Five
3 Days Before Reaping
.Pippa, 17
The kids are singing. It's a happy song, one that every child knows the lyrics to from a young age - it spreads by word of mouth, has for as long as Pippa can remember. She can't even remember who taught it to her, but she knows it. She hums along, a gentle smile on her face.
They're so young. There's so much life ahead of them.
(If they're lucky.)
The thought causes her smile to waver and she turns around so that they can't see, busying herself with organizing some of the finger painting that they'd done that morning. They're mostly dry, but she's still careful about letting anything touch the paint. The papers are bright with streaks of red and blue and yellow, cartoonish suns with smiling faces and crudely drawn stick-people holding hands. She lays them out one by one on the makeshift drying rack, admiring them each in turn.
One in particular strikes her, wipes the remaining smile right off her face. A cluster of red and a murky brown, like all the colors mixed together in one. There's a sad looking face in the center of it all, surrounded by strange, dark figures. It's not like the other paintings, there's something unsettling about it. And something familiar. She checks the corner of the page for a name.
Abel.
Realization hits her like a ton of bricks, and a chill goes down her spine as the song dissolves into giggles behind her. She turns and looks around the room for Adira, who she finds sitting at her small desk near the corner of the room. She's clearly amused by what she sees watching the children play, only half focused on whatever she's supposed to be doing. Pippa hesitates, not wanting to ruin the good mood, but approaches.
"Mom?" She says softly when she's just in front of the desk. Adira looks up, and Pippa places the painting in front of her. A few seconds pass as Adira examines it.
While she does, Pippa looks over the room again, this time for Abel. She finds him alone in the opposite corner, reading a book on the rug. He hadn't participated in the song. He doesn't look very happy, but then, that's the same as most days.
Adira looks up at her daughter, concerned, but slightly confused.
"His sister," Pippa answers the silent question. "In the Games last year. The mutts, they…"
The two of them look down at the painting.
"I remember," Adira cuts her off, voice barely above a whisper. "This time of year must be bringing up bad memories for him, I'll...I'll have a word with his parents when they pick him up today. To let them know. Thank you for bringing this to me."
Pippa turns, ready to head back to the paintings, when her mother speaks again.
"In the meantime," she says, "Would you maybe...talk to him? You know he trusts you, all the kids do. It could help."
She doubts that, but she would never say it out loud. Instead she nods and heads towards the carpet area, kneeling down beside the young boy. He doesn't react.
"Hi, Abel." Still, she gets no response. She keeps her tone soft, not that it's usually any different. "You're awfully quiet today."
Abel shrugs, not taking his eyes off the book.
There's a hundred things she could say. That she's sorry, that she's worried, that she wants to know what's on his mind. She could tell him not to do that again, to keep his paintings more cheerful. She could encourage him to continue expressing his thoughts through art. The thing is, though, he's seven - seven years old, and he watched his sister die on live television. How can she make that any better? Where can she even begin?
Her own siblings come to mind. The nightmares Lucas used to have, especially back when she was first old enough for the Reaping. They aren't quite this young anymore, but she knows what she might have done then.
She gives him a gentle smile. "Would you like me to read to you?"
This catches his attention. He looks up at her and just stares for a moment before nodding slowly, unsure. He hands her the book and scoots over on the floor to give her space to sit. She takes the book and leans back against the wall, lifting her arm to allow Abel to curl up against her as she begins to read.
.
.Lucas, 15
A train sounds in the distance, drowning out Dylan's laughter as it draws closer. That's their cue - back on their feet, polite smiles on their faces. Lucas scarfs down the last bite of a sweet roll and licks the honey off his fingers, no eating on the job. The two of them look at each other, still snickering, as Dylan dusts off his pants and gets in position. The booth that they're assigned to is small, just barely big enough that they can both fit in it comfortably, but they make it work. Not like there's actually much to do other than wait around for the train to come in. Dylan wedges himself behind a small counter, and Lucas approaches the switch to open the gate.
The train gets closer and closer until it finally pulls to a stop just in front of the booth that they're in. It's small, not meant for traveling too far - not like the big tracks, the ones that go all the way out to the Capitol. It's for the workers at the power plants, the ones that are too far out to walk, and of course the Peacekeepers that accompany them. The doors open and people start filing out. They look tired, squinting in the sunlight and walking with hunched backs. It's not the same kind of backbreaking work as, say, the miners in Twelve or the farmers in Nine, but shit. The days are still long, and the work is still demanding. Providing power across the country is no small feat.
But with that comes a sense of pride, Lucas can see it in a lot of their walks. He's seen the same thing in his father for as long as he can remember.
The crowd of workers pauses at the gates, and just as Lucas reaches to open them, a nearby Peacekeeper holds up a hand to stop him.
"Headcounts," he says. The only explanation he gives.
"You didn't do that before they left?" Most people probably wouldn't even ask, but Lucas can't help himself. It's going to take forever, and he's got school tomorrow, work to finish up at home. He doesn't have time to stand around waiting.
The Peacekeeper looks at him. A mask covers his face, but Lucas can tell he's annoyed. "Protocol. One isn't always enough."
"I don't think you lost anybody in the five feet between here and the train." His words are sharp, not hiding his own irritation either. Bad move.
"I don't think you have any place to-"
"Kidding!" Dylan interjects with an apologetic smile. "He's just kidding around, sorry about him." He shoots Lucas a warning look, and Lucas resists the urge to roll his eyes.
"Right," he says in the most convincing voice he can muster. It isn't very convincing at all. "Just kidding. Carry on, good sir." His voice is laced with sarcasm, but thankfully the Peacekeeper just turns sharply away.
"Why do you have to be like that, man?" Dylan mutters. Exasperated as he looks, he can't hide his amusement.
Lucas shrugs. "Why do they?"
"I'm serious," he says, watching the Peacekeepers roam around the crowd of workers. "You're asking for trouble, and your sister would kick my ass if I let you get arrested or something."
He's not wrong there. Lucas stays quiet for the remainder of the headcount, taking great pleasure in watching Dylan stifle laughter as they make faces at each other. Time flies surprisingly fast, as it often does with Dylan around. The Peacekeeper gives Lucas the okay to open the gates, and the crowd begins filing in.
x
Lucas is first greeted with the scent of freshly cooked bread when he opens the door, followed by whatever combination of vegetables and seasonings his mother, Adira, has on the stove. The house always smells like heaven in the evenings, and Lucas is just glad he isn't too late. He pushes the door shut behind him with his foot as he steps forward. He's ready to head towards his bedroom when she speaks up.
"Lucas," she greets him with a smile. "Could you start setting the table for me?"
He nods, rerouting to sling his messenger bag over the back of a chair. His younger sister Lena is sitting at the table with a notebook open in front of her, and he taps her on the top of the head as he passes by.
"Hard at work, I see," he says as she reaches up like she's fixing her hair. So dramatic. Nothing even messed it up. She doesn't respond. "Aw, a little grumpy today?"
"I have a lot of things on my mind, Lucas," she says very seriously, and he turns towards the cabinets just in time to avoid her catching him holding back a laugh. He can't help it, there's just something funny about that coming from someone so young. "I don't expect you to understand."
"Six plates tonight," Adira says as she glances over to see him balancing five.
Lena's attempt at a serious demeanor changes in an instant, replaced by pure mirth as she informs him, "Ashton is here tonight."
Lucas chuckles a bit. "Oh, no surprise there."
"Cheeky, cheeky," someone says behind him, and he turns to see Ashton himself walking into the kitchen. Pippa, of course, isn't far behind - hard to stray when they won't let go of each other's hands. There's a pinkish hue to her cheeks and she's grinning ear to ear.
"Hey, I'm not complaining," Lucas says. "Without you, there's no proper balance around here. It's Dad and I against the women of the house."
"What's that?" Adira asks, looking over her shoulder to raise an eyebrow at him. She's teasing, only pretending to be mad.
He plays along acting scared and trying to cover it up with a "Nothing!" and a laugh as he starts setting plates down on the table. When he's finished, he sits next to Lena, and Pippa and Ashton sit next to each other on the side across from them.
"Did work go well?" Pippa asks. "No unnecessary antagonizing of the Peacekeepers?" She keeps a light, playful tone to her voice, but there's an underlying seriousness to it.
Lucas grins. "No more than usual. All good on your end? You didn't lose any kids?"
"A few made a run for it, but we caught them in time," Adira interrupts, grinning back as she comes over to set a platter of bread on the table. Four hands reach out instantly, and she slaps them all away. "Ah! Not yet. Your father is running late, and this is a family dinner."
"Ooooh, Ashton is faaamily now?" Lena snickers devilishly.
"Well, he's here enough," Adira says, reaching over Ashton's head to place a fresh bowl on the table.
"It's an honor to be included," he says, placing a hand over his heart. He's laying it on a little thick and it's entirely intentional, prompting a giggle from Pippa and another playful eye roll from Lucas.
There's comfort in the familiarity of it all, but the end of the week is hanging over everyone's head like a dark cloud. They joke, they laugh, they do their best to cover it up, but it's a hard time of year for everyone. Every year they get older, every year it's another slip in the bowl. Lucas is just grateful they don't have to take any extra tesserae.
As his mother continues cooking, he can see the way she takes every opportunity to look back at them. She looks almost afraid.
Like maybe eventually she's going to turn around, and all of them will be gone.
District Five
Reaping Day
.Pippa, 17
They walk towards the Reaping together, and splitting up is always the hardest part.
Ashton doesn't let go of Pippa's hand the entire way, and she doesn't let Lena or Lucas out of her sight. She doesn't like getting her finger pricked, even after all these years. She tries not to look, instead offering Ashton an attempt at a smile that comes off more as a grimace. Once they've had their fingerprints taken, he sends her off with a quick kiss. And then they separate - Lucas and Ashton off to the boy's section, Lena scurrying off to find her friends among the younger girls. Thankfully Pippa isn't entirely alone, Gracelynn catches her by the arm and actually manages a comforting smile as they head towards their designated area.
"Feeling alright?" She asks, leaning in close to whisper.
Pippa lets out a nervous little giggle. "Today? Never. But I'll manage."
"We've survived plenty of Reapings before this one," Gracelynn reminds her. "All of us have. Today won't be any different."
As good a friend as Gracelynn is, her attempt at reassurance falls flat. There is no guarantee of safety on Reaping day.
District Five's escort is an unnaturally peppy young man called Blaize who sounds excited regardless of what he's saying and does a lot of clapping and laughing and sing-songy voices. He practically skips up on stage, seeming eager to get to the drawings as he rushes through all the formalities.
The time to draw comes far too soon. Blaize can barely contain his excitement, rummaging around deep in the bowl, reaching for the slips at the very bottom to bring one up.
"Oh!" He chirps. "This one feels about right!"
He pulls a slip out.
"Ladies and gentlemen! For District Five's first tribute, we have…"
.
.Lucas, 15
For a moment, Lucas manages to feel like he's only dreaming.
Only for a moment, though.
It passes quickly. He searches for his sister on the other side of the crowd, finds her wide-eyed and staring ahead at the stage. She's keeping it together but he can see the tension in her shoulders and she realizes how many eyes are on her, the way she's jolted into moving by her friend tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She walks up calm, as far as anyone can tell, but Lucas can read her better than that. He can see what her neutral expression is hiding.
Fuck. Already, he's trying to find ways to reassure himself that everything will be fine, that she can win this, she has to. She has to. Losing Pippa isn't an option here.
In the moments that follow, he hates Blaize more than he's ever hated anyone in his life. The escort claps, helping Pippa up to the stage with both hands and motioning for the crowd to cheer louder than they are. The applause is never particularly enthusiastic, but he tries. Same as every other year.
"Pippa Mason!" He repeats, finishing off his own applause and heading towards the boy's bowl.
"And now," he says, "For your second tribute…"
The slip comes out. Lucas is so busy being afraid for Pippa that he forgets to hold his breath.
"Ashton Hale!"
...Somehow, things just keep getting worse.
He watches Pippa's composure nearly break, hands flying up to cover her mouth. There's a shift in the boy's side of the crowd, people turning, looking for Ashton. Lucas keeps trying to rationalize, maybe this is good. Maybe they can make this work. It wouldn't be the first time something like this happened, the tragic lovers approach nearly worked out for the pair from Twelve a few years ago. Sure, the guy died, but the girl made it out, and that's really what mattered to Lucas. They'll keep each other alive, Ashton will keep her alive long enough that -
Ashton gets up on the stage and rather than engaging in a handshake with the escort, he runs straight for Pippa. The two of them embrace in the center of the stage, clutching each other like a lifeline. Sometimes young love is fleeting, impulsive. It lacks substance and it withers way by the time they reach adulthood.
Not Pippa and Ashton. He can see it in their faces when they pull away from each other, the looks in their eyes. It might work for Lucas if Ashton gives his life for Pippa in the arena, but for Pippa herself? It would destroy her. He's not sure she could come back from that.
He has to protect her from that. He has to protect her from this.
The two of them are holding hands on the stage, and Blaize looks even more delighted than before.
"Excellent, excellent! Now, moving on...any volunteers from the girls?"
Nothing from the crowd, as expected. The Games aren't exactly Five's favorite thing in the world.
Lucas knows what he has to do here.
"Volunteers from the boys?"
He's going to protect his sister from it all - from the cruelty of the arena, from death. From heartbreak. He's going to protect her the way that she's always protected him.
Even if it kills him.
District Five
Goodbyes
.Pippa, 17
When all is said and done, when their crying parents and nervous sister have reluctantly left them, when Pippa has nothing left of Ashton but the faintest memory of his lips touching hers, they're allowed to see each other.
Lucas walks into the room with a sheepish smile on his face, like he's just been scolded for some kind of prank rather than sentencing himself to death alongside her.
"What did you do?" She asks.
"I did it for-"
Pippa doesn't let him finish. "Don't say you did this for me!"
"Well, I did!" He's at least more serious now, crossing his arms defensively. "What was I supposed to do? Even if I wasn't already going to do this for your survival's sake, I couldn't let you lose Ashton like that."
"How is losing you any better?"
She raises her voice just slightly, not a yell by any other person's standards, but coming from her it certainly gives Lucas reason to pause. The gears are turning in his head, processing her words, and he looks as though he's started to realize the flaw in his thinking. Still, he remains outwardly confident as he meets Pippa's eyes.
"I'm going to keep you safe," he says. "I'm going to make sure you get out. You can't do anything to stop me."
"You idiot," Pippa whispers, finally grabbing Lucas and wrapping him in a hug. "I'll just have to save you first."
Lucas can't help it, he laughs. There are tears in his eyes and it's getting hard to breathe in his sister's grasp, but he laughs. "I'd like to see you try."
And so you will, Pippa thinks.
Another chapter down! I'm still trying to get the hang of these intro chapters, so all of them are probably going to end up looking a little different. I try to include as much information about each character as I can, but some things are hard to fit in naturally, so I'm sorry if certain things feel like they're coming out of nowhere? Oof. It's hard for me to tell, since I have the forms. As I've said before, tell me your thoughts, constructive criticism, etc! Especially if it's your characters in the chapter - which, in this case, both of these characters belong to theflowercrowns!
Even if they aren't your characters, reviews are very, very helpful. Let me know you're out there and you're reading! Up next will I think be District 12, but after that I don't have any more pairs! So more characters are super welcome. Either way, as you can see, I don't really care about keeping Reapings in order.
Yeah, I don't really have much more to say here. Let me know of any typos I missed in proofreading, same as before. A question, though - it seems like a lot of SYOTs use reader-driven sponsor systems, and I wasn't going to do that at first, but now I'm wondering if I should? Let me know what you think! I'm not even really sure how they work, but I'll figure out something if you're all interested.
Anyways! Goodbye for now, folks! Time to get working on that next chapter.
