A/N: I don't own anyone but my OC's….though I wished I owned the rest…*sighs*

The night before Ailith heads to the Arena….

Ailith attempted to sleep but her eyes refused to shut. Instead the incident with her mystery admirer played in a continuous loop in her mind. She found it sweet in the manner he averted the Gamemakers and other Tributes just to spend a few minutes in her company. But why her? Surely there were other more attractive girls in the Capitol and besides she was to enter the Arena tomorrow morning. 24 of them would enter and only one would come back. But he was so certain she would be the Victor he even asked to share not one but two dances with her at the party held at President Snow's mansion. It would be nice to harbor the same feelings as he but doubt lingered about her chances. Of course she was a Career but that didn't guarantee victory! Other Tributes from the less fortunate districts have won previous Games including that slovenly drunk Haymitch Abernathy.

She didn't dare to glance at the clock as it would only heighten her anxieties and instead got up and walked towards the balcony. The door was left open to allow the cool night air in. It was something Ailith did back home with the first hints of Spring chased away the bone chilling dampness of winter. The stars would play out across the skies creating the constellations her brother loved to trace with his finger as they stretched out on the ground. But here in the Capitol the bright gaudy lighting of building and vehicle drowned the weaker stars out leaving the strongest in their wakes. Ailith slipped from bed and padded across the thick carpeting towards the beckoning rush of air.

Ailith stood at the balcony's edge with fingers linked together on the railing. Below her the cars whizzed by as the nightly establishments were in full operation. At this time of night everyone in her town had been fast asleep for several hours already as they rose before the sun to harvest the quarries. The people in the Capitol were blissfully oblivious to the hardships she and the other Tributes faced. Survival was a daily reality where here she deduced the worst crisis any citizen faced was what to wear when going down the street towards the nearest café. But the boy who visited her didn't seem to pay heed to her status as a Tribute.

The boy! Ailith lightly laughed at herself for forgetting to ask his name. He knew hers from the parade the interview and the training. But she frowned and sensed a streak of dejection as perhaps it really didn't matter what his name was. The Arena loomed over her like a dark shadow, slowly sucking away their humanity with each passing day. Sure she felt beautiful in the costume and in the dress during the interview but it was all a charade; a façade that was meant to show them off for the pleasurable consumption of the citizens. They had no say in what they wore and even Caesar had subtly coached them during their time on stage.

Ailith slowly turned and retreated inside away from the cold bright towers and walkways. She closed the doors then pulled the pendant out from beneath her shirt and pressed it between her hands. It was the one connection that kept her tied to home and the life she knew. All she could hope for was a stroke of luck in the Arena that would put her on the path home.

Seneca tried focusing on the book in his lap but found it futile to even continue staring down at it. The words seemed to run together at every attempt which he took as a sign to put it up and go to bed. Tomorrow was the start of the Hunger Games and no one could really sleep. His uncle and the Gamemakers were still at it making the final touches on the Arena and would be there until the Victor was declared. It was always chaos during this week in the Crane household but Seneca had grown used to it. He started up the stairs then proceeded down the hall towards his room and away from the ongoing commotion downstairs. The darkness behind the grand door was a welcomed sight for the boy. Darkness meant silence and silence meant serenity. He peeled away the pants and shirt trading for the loose pants and shirt that brought a breath of fresh air compared to the heavier garments he wore in the waking hours.

His father had finally agreed to be a sponsor for Ailith after the training scores were announced.

"Ailith Brennan: 9!" Claudius's voice boomed through the TV. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Seneca had felt his mouth drop to the floor at the score she received. Whatever she did it was thoroughly impressive to the Gamemakers. He leapt of the couch almost tripping over the low table that was across from it. He bit back the throbbing pain in his shin as his father and mother both stared at him.

"Seneca you need to calm down." His mother chided.

"Father, please, we need to sponsor her! I have seen how she handles herself in the Training Center! I think she stands a chance at winning."

His father sat there staring up with an unreadable expression. "Seneca why do you continue to insist we sponsor this girl? Ever since you saw her at the parade you have asked me to sponsor her."

Seneca had to choose his words wisely as his father wouldn't take the real reason for Seneca's insistence.

"I watched the manner she held herself during the interview and parade. She held no fear though she is a stranger here. She is strong and confident. She's a Career, Father. You as well as I know her odds of surviving are better than those from the poorer districts. You're a betting man so why not show it?"

His father quietly weighed his son's words knowing Seneca was right. He loved a good wager during the Games and everyone knew it. The seconds ticked like hours for Seneca as his father sat with fingers pressing against one another.

"Alright," his father conceded. "I shall be a sponsor for her."

His mother simply nodded in concession. She wasn't a huge fan of wagering but this time shared her husband's sentiment.

"If she is to survive, then she will need something that is as deadly as she. What is it that she is skilled with my son?"

"She was proficient with hand to hand combat weapons."

"Then it shall be a gift to match her ability."

Seneca couldn't stop grinning as he hugged his mother then his father. "Thank you so much!"

He took off to the study leaving his parents alone in the room.

"Why do you think he wants us to sponsor her?" His father looked over to his wife.

"Isn't it obvious my dear? Our son is enamored with this Tribute. Did you not see the way his eyes brightened when he described her talents in the Training Center? He has never been so intent on sitting in watching the open trainings before this. And did you not see how he went rigid and held his breath when they started to announce her score then how he reacted when she received a nine? Are you oblivious?"

His father ducked her questions but presented his own.

"If he is enamored with her and say she wins, what if she shares a similar fate to other strong attractive Tributes? You and I both are aware of what has happened to some of the Victors in the past."

"We will not discuss this." His wife answered tightly.

"We have to my dear. If this turns out to be more than a simple infatuation, Seneca will seek her out. Soon he will be training to be a Gamemaker and many of the young girls in the Capitol have expressed interest in him."

"We will worry about that in the future. But for now let us focus on finding Ailith a suitable gift."

Seneca wasn't aware of the brisk hushed conversation between his parents as he nestled between the sheets. He secretly wished he wasn't alone in the large bed which easily swallowed him whole. He knew Ailith would be up before the sun and wondered if she was having trouble sleeping. He easily imagined her lying in the spacious bed with those rich cerulean orbs fixed on the ceiling. She probably missed her home and family. He couldn't blame her if she couldn't seek slumber. Seneca found himself wishing he was there to hold her and tell her don't be upset. She needed to be strong and survive the Arena; for her family; for her home; and for him.

"May the odds ever be in your favor my Isis," he whispered before closing his eyes.

His mother isn't blind! She knows her son has it bad! :P Next up the Games begin...Just to warn everyone Ailith won't be kind to her foes...