The Lost Tribute ch 14

Woo-hoo! Ladies and gentlemen, Neve here with a message of gratitude for all my lovely readers and reviewers! Thank you sooo much! Last chapter was the longest, with a word count of over 4000. I'm amazed that I wrote that much. Anyway, this chapter covers the tour, the interviews, and then the 'death' of Anyarose. Shorter chapter, and last update for today.

Neve

Anyarose

Apple dresses me in a long, soft dress the color of an evening sunset. He makes sure all my braids are still in place and applies makeup carefully.

"There, princess. You look beautiful," Apple says, and then adds, "Now smile, darling."

I can't smile, though. I have a month, tops, to be with the man I love before my 'death' is scheduled. We're to be torn apart. Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes again. Apple gently wipes them away.

"Hey. Don't cry, princess. I'll keep you safe," he says, and he presses a gentle kiss to my lips. I don't respond, I become a stone statue. Apple pulls away, guilt crossing his face.

"Aw, hell. I'm sorry, princess," he murmurs. I shrug and walk out. It's time.

I hear the music, Caesar Flickerman's voice. Haymitch appears out of the darkness beside me, and grips my hand. We're introduced and we walk on stage together. The crowds cheer and roar their approval. Haymitch and I wave, and I have to smile, pretending to be happy.

xXxXx

Haymitch

Anya seems tense throughout the whole interview. Our tour starts in two days, but she barely speaks of it. She answers Caesar's questions quietly and politely. Her voice falters a little, and when Caesar comments, Anya delicately says she's still shaken from the arena. Caesar pats her hand, and says she was very brave to kill Sissia so brutally. The audience roars its approval.

Anya looks vaguely pale and ill. I wrap an arm around her, and she leans into me. I worry about her.

xXxXx

The Victory Tour is the worst. We stay in Twelve for a couple of days, and Anya packs a few of her favourite things from home into a little bag. I know she never leaves any place without her arena token – the charm necklace. The night before we go to District Eleven, we make love for the first time since we left the arena. I take care to be gentle with her. She sleeps.

xXxXx

Anyarose

District Eleven is the worst place for me. I say condolences to Scarlett's family, lay a rose on her gravestone, repeat a prayer for her. The people of Eleven love me. They cheer for the girl who viewed their youngest tribute as a sister. I loathe the entire day.

We spend the days in the Districts, the evenings at parties, and the dead of night wrapped in each other's arms. Each morning at dawn I am injected with a dose of a Capitol drug that prevents pregnancy. For this, I am both angry and grateful. I am angry because maybe I want children. But I am grateful because I know I cannot raise a child in a world of Games and Reapings.

District One is unpleasant to say the least. Haymitch killed three of their four Tributes. We are not welcome here.

We reach the Capitol and I have to try extra hard not to faint or throw up. I am to 'die' tomorrow.

We spend the day at some fancy party, then a feast in the evening. The President sidles up to me, and murmurs, "when the guards come at dawn, do not panic. It is merely an act."

I nod my agreement and laugh as though he has said something delightful. The day's events conclude and Haymitch and I return to our room. I'm told the room next door is visible through a glass of some sort. Oh well.

We end the day as we have ended each day of this hellish tour – in bed together. My kisses are feverish, my touch burns. I want to be imprinted in his memory forever. When it's over, and we lay together, breathing heavily, I lie and say I'm cold. I dress in the black gown from earlier and feign sleep. I hear Haymitch pulling on his sweatpants and then he sleeps for real.

I am awake at dawn when the guards come. Everything I need – my charm necklace, my hair ribbons – are on my body. I'm ready. I kiss Haymitch until he wakes, and it's then that the guards burst into the room. Two restrain him, two seize me. To Haymitch it looks painful, but their grip on me is not excessively strong. I find I don't have to act when I start screaming.

xXxXx

Haymitch

The guards come and I know this is more penance for my stunt in the arena. They restrain me and grab her. She screams and flails, tears pouring down her face as she screams out to me to help her, and that she loves me, and other things I'll never forget as long as I live. The door slams after them, and the guards restraining me leave, locking the door after them. They're standing guard. Suddenly, the window on the right hand side of the room changes, and I realize it's not a window to the Capitol at all. It's a mirror of sorts, glass looking into the room next door. Anya's standing there, bewildered. The light in the room goes out, I hear a gunshot. A scream. Then I'm pounding on the glass, because even before the light flickers on, I know what I'll see.

Anya's lying face down on the floor, long braids spilling across her face. There's no visible blood, but I dread to think what she'll look like as they turn her over. I yell and scream and punch the walls, the glass, the door, until someone comes in, tells me Anya's dead, and sticks me with a big needle that knocks me out.

xXxXx

Anyarose

They take me to the room next door, tell me about the glass, and that I have to be a real good actress. The mirror-glass flickers to life and I attempt bewildered. The glass shuts off again, but Haymitch will think they've turned the light out in my room. One of the guards fires his pistol into the arm and I flop to the ground. The guards quickly fix my hair, make it look like I've fallen.

The mirror-glass flickers to life again and I hear an agonized shout, the pounding of a fist on glass. This goes on for a few minutes.

For God's sake, I want to say, turn it off. Stop torturing him!

But I can't say it or they'll shoot me for real. And the whole point of this is to torture him. Finally they turn the mirror-glass off and I'm pulled to my feet.

"Come on kiddo," it's Perrie.

"P-Perrie?" I stammer out.

"Come on. You need to get outta here. They're taking you to the Training Centre."

And after that short explanation, that's exactly where I end up. From there, I'm taken to the twelfth floor. The President is waiting for me.

"Good acting, Miss Riverstream. Mr Abernathy is under the impression you have been murdered by the Capitol. Tomorrow it will be put out that you are dead. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mr President."

"I'll be in touch when necessary, Miss Riverstream. For now though, I am here to assign your new name. henceforth and forevermore until you are released, your name shall be Rose, apprentice stylist of the Capitol. Is that clear?"

"Yessir, Mr President."

And so, it began.

xXxXx

Haymitch

I wake the next morning to the television blaring out the news of Anya's death. They say her death is penance for my stunt in the arena. I find some liquor and drink til I'm incoherent.

xXxXx

I'm not quite sure, but I think I'm drunk for her funeral.

They hold it back in District Twelve, two days after I get back.

They let me go to it. Her funeral, I mean. It's closed casket, and the graveyard is packed. Perrie's there, with Apple and Posy. Standing with them is another Capitol woman I don't know. She's young, pale, wearing a long, white wig, and a black dress. Her face is painted white, and she wears black on her eyes and lips. I don't recognize her.

Perrie offers condolences. Posy and Apple copy him. The white haired woman remains silent. Effie Trinket comes through the crowd to offer sympathy, then she chivvies the other Capitol people; Perrie, Posy, Apple and the silent woman – back onto the train.

I didn't see them again for a long time.

I spent the days drunk, either in my house or at Anya's grave. Usually I passed out there, considering my options. I can't even die, because that's giving in to those Capitol bastards. I hate everyone, and drink away the nightmares. Try to numb the pain.

xXxXx

Alright. So, Anya's safe and sound in the Capitol. Haymitch thinks she's dead, and so he's becoming a drunk. Who can guess who the white-haired girl was? :P

Next chapter covers Anya's life in the Capitol, over the span of twenty years. So. Next chapter is set around the time of the 70th Games, but jumps back and forth a bit.

Okay. Please review!

Neve.