Caesar was true to his word. He stayed by Willow's side until it was time for her to be handed over to Juno, Catia and Cassia for her prep to begin, and she desperately tried not to let her panic show as she watched him walk away. Caesar risked a glance over his shoulder at her, and he immediately wished he hadn't looked when he saw silent tears glinting on her smooth cheeks.

Venetia noticed them too, felt Caesar's barely perceptible stalling, and slipped her arm through his, preventing him from turning on his heel and high-tailing it back to Willow.

"Come on, let's get you ready - it's a big, big night!" she singsonged merrily.

It certainly was, Caesar thought. This evening belonged to Willow, but in his heart of hearts, he knew she didn't want it. That, really, she just wanted to pretend the 49th Hunger Games had never happened. She wanted to be somewhere safe, tucked up in his embrace, and God, he wished he could give her that! He slowed, his mind whirling. Maybe, just maybe, to some small extent, he could...

"Hang on, Vee," he said, abruptly disengaging himself from the stylist's hold.

"You can't go to her!"

"I'm not. I want to go and see Mercer."

Venetia was momentarily nonplussed but she let him go, watching Caesar as he threaded his way through the throng of brightly dressed workers. He smiled at everyone who spoke to him, but after two weeks of effectively being away from the spotlight, he seemed a little dazzled by all the attention, and it was almost with a look of relief that he passed into their producer's plush office.

"Caesar! Where the hell have you been all this time?" Mercer greeted him jovially and slapped him heartily on the back.

"I've been, er, busy," Caesar replied vaguely. "Listen, there's something I want to run past you about tonight..."

And with that, he closed the door on interested ears, hit the switch which blacked out the glass walls to prying eyes, and began to outline his idea so eloquently that it was utterly impossible for Mercer to say no.

Willow had seen Delta a couple of times throughout the previous two weeks, but there had been no sign of Juno, Vinnie or Chilton, so when she emerged from her hospital room for the final time, she was genuinely overjoyed to see them all standing at the end of the corridor waiting for her. Even Antonio was there to give her a hug and congratulate her on her win.

"Come on, time to get ready," Juno said, steering Willow away from the little crowd, and taking her hand reassuringly once they were out of sight of the others.

It was only on the elevator ride back up to the training centre lobby that Willow realised just how far underground the hospital wing actually was. It was way below even the training floor where, just one month ago, she and the other tributes had been practicing tying knots and learning how to kill one another. Nausea welled up into Willow's throat as the faces of all those who wouldn't ever be returning flashed through her mind, and something that resembled a boulder settled itself where her heart should be.

The thin metal cane Doctor Hertz had provided her with echoed even more hollowly in the emptiness than Juno's spiked heels, and Willow was grateful that the windows had been blacked out to prevent anyone tracking her, rather unsteady, progress across the lobby to the tribute elevator.

"Can you walk without that?" Juno asked, her pink head bobbing towards the cane.

"Not very well," Willow replied, "Why, will it be a problem?"

Juno's head tilted one way and then the other as she regarded the victor and the contraption that was keeping her upright.

"No, we can work round it."

They travelled up to floor seven in silence, and when they emerged from the elevator, Willow was immediately enveloped in the ecstatic arms of Catia and Cassia, both of whom were talking so fast that she couldn't understand a word they were saying. The sentiment, though, was clear. They'd missed her and they were delighted to see her. Especially as she was in one piece. And if she was honest, Willow was glad to see them, too.

She was treated to roast chicken for lunch, with a small helping of creamed potatoes and the tiny vegetables she'd first experienced on her arrival in the Capitol. Her portions were still being controlled by the itinerary Doctor Hertz had drawn up, but her meals had been gradually increasing in size over the past few days and she was hopeful that by the time she made it home, she'd be able to eat normally again.

It was horrible, sitting down to a meal like this without Ash. Willow hadn't noticed it whilst she was in the hospital; the combination of being somewhere different and in Caesar's company had given her no cause to think about it, but now, back in the District 7 apartment, with Catia, Cassia and Juno, everything suddenly felt wrong, and Willow pushed her plate away before she was even halfway through.

"Are you okay?" Juno asked, the concern clear on her painted face.

"What? Hmm, just nervous," Willow lied hastily. "I don't want it all coming back up on stage."

Juno didn't look convinced but she let the matter rest, and after lunch, she disappeared whilst Catia and Cassia guided Willow along to her suite to begin on her prep.

"Oh, I'm so jealous! You got a full body polish!" Cassia squealed enviously.

But all Willow could see when she looked in the full length mirror was that her body somehow looked different. Yes, her skin was flawless, and not only had all the scars from the arena been smoothed away, so had all the marks her body had sustained over the past eighteen years of her life, but there was still something not quite normal about her figure.

"Why didn't they remove that whilst they were there?" Cassia said, disdainfully pointing at the tiny mole on Willow's hip bone.

"Because I asked them to leave it," Willow replied. "Caesar had a rather heated discussion with them over it, but they gave in eventually."

The sisters exchanged a look - they had suspected before the Games had started, but now it was very obvious their suspicions had been correct.

"Was Caesar with you the whole time you were in hospital?" Catia asked as she pressed various buttons on the panel for the shower, adjusting the settings until they were how she desired them.

"Yes, he was."

"That would explain why nobody's seen him..."

"So... Are you two official now, or what?"

"Uh, I don't know," Willow hedged. "Unofficially official, I guess."

Catia grinned, and Cassia relieved the victor of her cane.

"In you pop."

The first unexpected wave of nausea hit Willow the moment she stepped under the strawberry-scented waterfall, and she gagged so violently that Catia slammed her palm against the panel to halt the spray, and the twins both shrieked at her as they wondered aloud what was wrong.

"It was the smell of the water, that's all," Willow murmured, straightening up once again, confused at the randomness of the sensory assault.

"Do you want to try something else?"

"I think that would be best."

Catia switched the scent to raspberry, but the sickly sweetness had exactly the same effect. As did the peach, and the mango.

"Try the lemon," Willow muttered, thinking that, really, between all the starting and stopping, she was surely clean enough now, even by Capitol standards!

The subtle citrus tones, though, were absolutely fine, and she finished off her shower with no further bouts of nausea. When she stepped out, dripping wet, Cassia patted her dry with a towel so she didn't have to use the heaters and then they smothered her in a soothing moisturiser. Even though the prep team's ministrations were gentle, Willow couldn't help flinching as their fingers glided over her body, for certain places were definitely more sensitive than others.

Catia and Cassia didn't seem to notice, though, for as soon as they were done, they wrapped Willow in a satin jade-green robe and settled her in the prep chair.

"You have no idea how hard it was for Juno to get hold of this colour," Catia said, as the two preppers carefully brushed the bright red dye onto Willow's roots. "Everyone is using it!"

Willow chuckled. "Caesar mentioned that it had become rather popular."

"Seriously, by the morning after the Games had ended, three of my four neighbours either had a new wig or they'd had their hair done in this exact shade!"

After that, beyond the odd noncommittal response, it wasn't really necessary for Willow to speak again because the pair prattled on continuously about the Games, about where they had been when certain events had taken place, what they had been doing when this or that had happened. Everything was about them, not about the tributes, but whether by design or simply good fortune, neither of them mentioned Ash or Ava or the finale, and by the time they moved onto her nails, Willow had tuned out to what they were saying.

Juno returned then, with something long and dark draped over her arm, and Willow caught a hint of sparkle when Cassia and Catia eased it down over her curves.

"Shoes!" Juno barked as Willow tried to step towards the mirror, and Catia slipped a pair of silver leather sandals onto her feet, lacing them up at just the right tightness, and then finally Juno permitted Willow to view herself in the looking glass.

The silk shimmered with every movement, the faintest ripple gave the illusion that Willow was wearing the ocean as it reflected the night stars back into the inky sky, and it absolutely mesmerised the victor. Narrow diamond clasps secured the dress on her shoulders, and a matching band sat snugly around her waist, but otherwise her outfit was midnight-blue. The front half of her hair had been caught up with another diamond clip, and the curls were more sculpted now than they had been at her previous public appearances. Black polish, inlaid with silver, coated her nails, and her make-up, though still natural, had been applied with a firmer hand than before, her lashes were more defined, her eyes just a shade darker.

What had been Juno's motivation behind this look, Willow wondered... Her other gowns, though elegant, had lacked the sophistication of this dress. This ensemble made her look older, more in control, more ready for whatever the world was going to throw at her...

"I look very... grown up," Willow ventured softly.

"I think it's the right time," Juno answered carefully, and the victor caught the hesitation in her stylist's voice.

Although Willow didn't understand Juno's work, it served as a reminder to her that the Games weren't over just yet, that she still had to be on her guard at all times, in front of just about everybody.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Willow answered, stretching out to retrieve her cane.

"You won't need that tonight."

The victor raised an eyebrow but Juno ignored it and held out an arm. "Let's go."

The lighting was absolutely abysmal down here, Caesar thought, as he watched the hustle and bustle of the studio staff going about their business. It was customary for the victor to rise from beneath the stage, along with his or her support team. First the preppers, then the escort, the stylist, the mentor and finally the victor. This year, though, with a victor who could barely walk unaided, let alone keep herself balanced on the moving metal plate, the whole thing had been rethought.

By now, ordinarily, Caesar would already be on the unlit stage, in his chair, waiting for the music to begin, but this year he had persuaded Mercer to swap the order of the team's appearance so that Willow would take the stage first, with him, and she could greet everyone with him at her side.

His mouth fell open when he caught a glimpse of her on Delta's arm, and suddenly everything around him paled in comparison to the combination of happiness and relief in her green eyes. The mentor passed him Willow's hand wordlessly, and then she stepped away to wait for Chilton, Juno and the preps to join her - they were, Caesar correctly presumed, getting into their own costumes.

As Willow's fingers curled around his, she felt the warm pressure of his reassurance seeping into her veins, and when she studied him, all at once, she understood her stylist's design. In her, Juno had created the image of a perfect mate for Caesar Flickerman, the darling of the Capitol. That was why Juno had made her appear older, that was why her elegance was so important. Tonight, albeit unofficially, she would be shown as Caesar's counterpart.

She pressed back against his hand, grazed a manicured nail lightly along his palm, and smiled a little when he sucked in a sharp breath at the unexpected caress, suddenly realising that she very much wanted to reacquaint herself with him in every way possible.

"Soon." He bent his head low so he could murmur in her ear, and she shivered delicately when she felt his hot breath on her neck. "Tonight, if we can."

"Do you think it'll be okay? My leg, I mean..."

"I promise to be extremely gentle with you," he whispered softly, and it was her turn to inhale when she glanced up and saw the desire in his dark, hooded eyes.

"Mr Flickerman, it's time for you to take your places now."

Caesar hadn't even noticed the stage-hand appear behind him, and he wondered briefly if the younger man had overheard his conversation with Willow. From the openness of the boy's expression, though, Caesar guessed not, and he tucked Willow's arm into the crook of his elbow, slowly but firmly guiding her towards the metal circle.

"Okay?" Caesar questioned, as they took their places on the plate.

"I'm scared," she admitted, in a small voice that really didn't suit the sophistication of her look. "I don't want to watch them die again."

"I'll be right here."

"Don't let go."

"I won't," he vowed, and he dropped a quick kiss on her forehead before the stage-hand switched on their microphones manually, and then she watched in awe as Caesar transformed in front of her very eyes. His shoulders went back, the dazzling smile beamed at her, his eyes took on that expression of impartiality, and then Willow could hear the trumpets that heralded the opening of his show, and she followed his lead, straightening her spine, tilting her chin upwards, just slightly, as the metal plate began to push them upwards onto the stage.

"... so please welcome your host, Caesar Flickerman, and the winner of the 49th Hunger Games, Miss Willow Monroe!"

The lights were blinding, the screams were deafening, the roar of the audience made the metal rattle beneath their feet, and all Willow wanted to do was run away, back to the safety of her hospital room, dragging Caesar with her. She didn't, though, of course. The steadiness of his grip gave her the strength and the mental determination to step off the podium, and although she clung to him, she found the will to smile and wave to the ecstatic crowds.

The audience stood as one the moment they appeared, and the applause still hadn't completely abated when Catia and Cassia were introduced five minutes later. The twins pranced around the stage, taking short, jerky bows, finally stopping in front of Willow, whom they hugged affectionately, and then they each bestowed several air kisses on Caesar, who somehow managed to accept them graciously without breaking his hold on Willow.

Chilton Meadows was introduced next - how long must he have waited for his moment in the spotlight, Willow pondered, for even though he had been the District 7 escort for a while, she had never seen him on the winning show. Juno and then Delta both received standing ovations, of course, they'd performed brilliantly, and each of them pulled Willow into a tight embrace before Caesar steadily, as though the walk wasn't sheer agony for her, supported her as she lowered herself into the chair beside his own.

As the lights dimmed and the seal of Panem appeared on the screen, Willow realised just how unprepared she was. She had known already she hadn't wanted to watch her fellow tributes die, but now she realised she would be watching their stories, too. She would have to see Ash's story. She would have to see how he had died.

Editing eighteen days worth of footage into a three hour programme had to be quite a feat, Willow thought, although whoever put it together had done a remarkable job. The first thirty minutes or so focused on the events before they entered the arena: the reaping, the tribute parade, the reading of the training scores, and they showed both interviews. The audience sighed collectively as they watched the kiss again, and through the gloom, Caesar saw Willow glance back at him and smile gently, and he brushed across her fingers with the pad of his thumb.

Then came detailed coverage of the initial deaths; the mutts, Willow and Ash working out how to get rid of the mutts, Willow sending Ash away to the safety of the forest, her race across the Cornucopia circle, Ash incapacitating her mutt mere seconds before it would have killed her, the moment in which they became allies. After that, though, the filmmaker's alternated between clips of the other tributes' deaths and clips of Willow. Their desperate attempts to stop the infection taking hold, the parachute that had ensured her survival, using the rabbit to ensure the water was free of poison.

Caesar felt Willow start to shake when they were forced to watch Ava torturing Ash, and he gripped her hand tighter as the District 2's knife jammed down into the boy's heart. From that moment on, in the film, if not in real life, Willow was portrayed as a ruthless killer, tracking down and killing Ava, hunting down the remaining two careers and forcing them to split up.

Then came the finale. Willow's and Jewel's showdown. Watching it back, their duel was far more horrific than it had felt at the time. Now she could see the true extent of the injuries they had inflicted on one another, hear the overwhelming pain in their cries as their blades had connected with the other's flesh, and it scared her to remember how easy it had been to use the knife she'd had concealed in her sock. When it had come down to it, she'd been able to commit murder as easily as any of the careers.

Murder... By that point Willow's heart was pounding, and the impulse to flee was almost inescapable. The only thing keeping her in her seat was Caesar. Both of her hands were clinging to one of his as though he were her lifeline, and maybe, at that point, he was.

The programme ended with her hoarsely whispered acknowledgement that she was going home, and then the anthem of Panem was playing as President Snow himself took to the stage to bestow upon her the victor's crown. Caesar helped Willow to her feet, and smiled at her reassuringly as he released her for the first time in almost four hours and stepped back to allow the president to place the golden circlet on her head.

There was a huge applause as the president departed, and Willow was feeling quite faint from the combined exertion of standing and waving by the time Caesar finally bade the country goodnight, reminding them, as though the citizens of Panem had a choice, to tune in for the final interview tomorrow.

Despite their earlier hope of spending the night together, Willow didn't see Caesar again until the following day. As soon as the cameras switched off, she was swept away to the presidential palace for the Victory Banquet. There was very little opportunity to eat, though, as Capitol officials and generous sponsors vied for her attention, scrabbling over one another in order to have their photograph taken with her. She continued to smile and thank them as night turned into early morning, and the last person she had her picture taken with was a sultry woman with cerise pink hair.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Willow" the woman purred. "And I'm glad the medicine did the trick."

The victor glanced up sharply.

"You were my sponsor?"

"My husband..." The woman inclined her head towards a tall dark haired gentleman who raised his glass in their direction. "By proxy, anyway."

"Why by proxy?" Willow quizzed curiously.

"Your real benefactor isn't permitted to sponsor tributes himself."

Suddenly Willow knew who had sent her the medicine for her infection, and she wondered why she'd never considered it before.

"Caesar," she said softly.

The woman smiled. "You've made him happier than I've seen him in years."

"You know him well?"

"I should do. I'm Theodora," she murmured, "his sister."

There was little time for more conversation, for Delta chose that very moment to whisk Willow away from the party, and the mentor had to prod her awake when they arrived back at the training centre.

"Let's get you to bed, you're on air at two."

In spite of Caesar's obvious absence, Willow was simply too tired to stay awake and ponder the events of the day, and she woke the following morning to Catia and Cassia jerking off her bedcovers, and exclaiming that she needed to get up right that second, they had a lot to fit in over the course of the next three hours.

They had the same disastrous issues with the scented water, but this time, Willow wasn't able to hold in the nausea, and she was violently sick onto the floor of the shower cubicle, at which point the twins backed away, and sent in an avox girl to tend to Willow's needs. They were surprised to see the girl emerge from the bathroom a few moments later, and pile a plate with bread rolls and three varieties of melon, and when the sisters ventured back, they found their charge perched in the prep chair, snacking on the bread and the fruit.

"Are you alright?" Catia queried.

"I think I just got too hungry," the victor said brightly. "I'm okay now."

This was to be her final prep for six months, and the two women chatted continuously throughout it. Juno wandered in towards the end, and shooed them away, personally doing Willow's make-up, and then she helped the tribute into the dark green pencil skirt that ended just above her knees, and a matching silk jacket with three quarter length sleeves and wide lapels. The coat was secured with a large silken rose of the same shade. The merest hint of cleavage was on show, the rose quartz pendant snuggled in its usual position, and the outfit clung subtly to every curve. She looked... alluring, sexy, ready to dominant the stage.

Caesar couldn't help but smile to himself when he discovered this final interview would be taking place in the training tower. For fifteen years, the show's producer had been trying to persuade Snow to allow Caesar access to the tributes' Capitol home, and for fifteen years they'd been refused. And now, after goodness knew how many illicit visits on Caesar's part, Snow had finally agreed to let them film the final interview in the training centre.

He was already pottering around the living room when Willow appeared with Juno, and he was at her side immediately, his arms around her, his lips seeking hers as soon as the stylist had departed and they were alone.

"Nearly there, sweetheart," he murmured when they'd taken their seats, and then someone was counting backwards from ten and suddenly they were live on air, broadcasting right across Panem.

The lack of live audience was a relief as far as Willow was concerned, and Caesar, as always, was the perfect host, teasing her, gently coaxing out replies to even the questions that required the fullest of answers, and before she knew it, Caesar was signing off, and it was all over.

It was time for her to go home.

"I'll see you soon," Caesar promised, and he tried to not let the tremor in his voice show. "Really, really soon."

Willow couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face in his shirt. She dreaded letting him go, wanted to plead with him to let her stay, but she knew he needed to talk to the president before she could make her move to the Capitol. It was only the hope of Snow approving their request that persuaded her out of his embrace, and into the car with the blacked out windows that would take her to the tribute train. She didn't allow the idea of Snow refusing what they asked to enter her head.

She stood at the window as the train rolled out of the station, and she saw him there, in the midst of the crowd, his jay blue hair almost lost in the sea of brightly coloured heads. He didn't wave goodbye and neither did she, she simply held his gaze until she could no longer see him, until the blackness of night descended as they entered the tunnel that separated the Capitol from the districts, and then she remained there until Delta and Vinnie pulled her forcibly away.