Disclaimer: Hunger Games and the world of Panem do not belong to me, but their rightful owners, I just borrowed it and don't make any money from it.

Epilogue

Capitol - Caesar Flickerman

"Is it that time of year again?" Monica Flickerman asked when she saw her husband don that ridiculous wig and the old yet never-fading suit. Given how fast-lived the fashion industry at the Capitol was, this suit was rare quality work. Still, Monica did not particularly like it and was definitely glad that without it, but more so without the wig, nobody usually recognized her husband as the famous host in the streets. And after all, she had married the man all those years ago, not the host, and it was the man she wanted to go out with to have a nice dinner and not the host who would be mobbed by fans before the waiter had a chance to serve them the starters. Watching him now, she snuggled deeper into her cushions with a resigned mien.

Caesar nodded. "You know very well that it is the first day of the Hunger Games season and that it will be my job to guide the audience through all twelve districts. Much as your job will be to watch the history of Panem one too many times." He gave her a quick peck on the cheeks before picking up a lipstick that matched this year's colour of his wig. He always preferred to do his own makeup.

"Sometimes I wonder if you should not give up the job as host for the Hunger Games and instead focus on the food channel you have been dreaming of for so long," Monica said.

"Maybe next year," Caesar shrugged. "For this season it is too late. The arena is ready, as are the training facilities and the trains with the escorts have been sent out to the districts. If I were to quit now..." Neither needed to finish the sentence that quitting now would be similar to stepping in front of a driving bus. Besides they both knew that Caesar actually believed that within the given limits he was doing something good in trying to make all reaped tributes shine and thus secure them the most balanced chances at gaining sponsors and making it through the games. And he for sure believed that there was nobody who could do this part of the job as well as him. Therefore it would take more than a passing reluctance to make him quit.

A few hours later Caesar shook his shoulders to loosen them, tilted his head this way and that, looking around and preparing for the upcoming hours. The studio looked just the same as it did every year. There was his table, the glass of water and the camera. The guy operating it was someone else than previous year though, as the old one had had a household accident just last week that saw him being admitted to a hospital with several broken bones. It had been a frantic week as Caesar and the replacement had put in many rehearsals to make sure that the quality of the broadcast was just the same. They had practiced angles and lighting and filters on the camera, but in the end, Caesar was confident that they would deliver a good show. And who knew, the new guy might even become the permanent camera man, depending on today and also on the real reason for the previous camera man's accident. Because as always in the Capitol there were rumours that the accident had not been so much a matter of chance and ladder, but some carefully engineered incident.

The signal lamp lighted up and the show was on. Cheerful smile in place, Caesar looked into the camera.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to another season of spectacular bravery, perseverance and skills, welcome to the season of the 74th Hunger Games!"

The words might be the same every year, more or less, yet the games were not, and so Caesar tried his best to reflect this in his comments as he introduced the games, the districts and the escorts. But never had he anticipated that the very words 'spectacular bravery' would find their first echo in District 12.

"I volunteer!" An anguished cry delivered these words, seconds after Effie Trinket had announced the name of the girl tribute.

Back in the Capitol Caesar held his breath. A volunteer from District 12? That was unheard of!

Soon enough it was revealed that the volunteer was the sister of the twelve-year-old who had been originally reaped. All his attention was now fixed on the screens that captured the pictures of the square in District 12. But Caesar was not looking at the stage and the volunteer; he was looking at the crowd, at the young people of Reaping Age. How many of the girls were right now asking themselves if they would have been brave enough to volunteer in their younger sister's place? How many of the boys asked themselves if their older brothers might volunteer for them?

His gaze was arrested by the face of a boy in the sixteen-year-old section. In itself it was an unremarkable face, but Caesar knew the boy. Or at least, he knew who he was. His name was Ehron Franks, younger brother of the former tribute Joseph Franks. Caesar would most likely have forgotten most of the characteristics of that tribute if not for Effie Trinket. He of course remembered the names of all tributes, just in case a sibling was reaped and he had to be prepared for the tragic story that might have to be brought up in his closing remarks on the district or mentioned in the interview if Caesar felt it would help the tribute. But he rarely remembered more about a tribute unless he or she really stood out. And Joseph Franks had been spectacularly unremarkable. Yet Effie Trinket never tired of telling everyone that it had been him and his good manners that had finally convinced her to take a more active role in the quest for sponsors, same as Pancratius Serva did for District 6. She had yet to see the success of this, but she persevered and more years than not got at least a little bit of sponsor money for her tributes. And all this because of a well-mannered but otherwise forgettable boy.

There, on the screen, Ehron had the same comparatively well-fed look Joseph had had, which in a district such as District 12 was indeed outstanding, but his face was much more serious than his older brother's had been. Caesar knew with a single look that Ehron was all too aware that there was nobody to volunteer for him, should the odds see him being reaped, but that he was also equally well aware that by now he had lived a year longer than his brother ever had. He was in no danger though this year as another boy from his section was reaped, without a volunteer exchanging places with him.

As Caesar made the bridge to District 11, most likely still guided by the occurrences during the first Reaping and his observances on siblings, his thoughts moved towards a volunteer that had never been acknowledged as such. Strange enough it had been the same games as those of the forgettable Joseph Franks, where twins had secretly exchanged places. Of course, Caesar had no proof of this, and neither had the rest of the nation, but all signs pointed towards it. The highly pregnant sister during the victory tour and more importantly that year's victor's behaviour upon the sight of her were the strongest clues. To Caesar however there had already been the strangeness of the final fight, in which the twin had died in the arena and the cryptic answers he had gotten from victor Griffin Doyle in the following interviews. And he knew that to this day the winner of the 67th Hunger Games sent letters to District 11 to the sister's child named Ahadi, either by having the mentors on the victory tour pass them on or handing them over himself to the mentors from District 11 when they met for the games in the Capitol. It was a risky thing as interactions with other districts, even for victors of the Hunger Games, outside the season was not allowed, but as he otherwise played his role as victor and mentor perfectly and showed no signs of harbouring any rebellious tendencies, the President had let it slide. Besides, all the intercepted letters showed was outlines of everyday things filled with a myriad of varying patterns. It was an old art called Zentangle that the victor had picked up as hobby.

It had surprised many that during his victory tour Griffin had presented all the families of the fallen tributes with a picture in that style of something he remembered the other boys and girls by. Often it was simple, generic things, like a weapon he had seen that tribute try out during training or something from the outfit worn at the parade, as he had not gotten to know them better. But there had been tears in the eyes of the little girl from District 7 as he presented her with a picture of a patterned squirrel in remembrance of the carved token she had given to his ally Coralee Lume. And she had not been the only one moved by the gesture.

When Caesar had asked about the pictures in the interview following the tour, Griffin had simply said: "I am the only one left, who shared the parade, the training, the interviews and ultimately the arena with them. And I think it helps the families to find closure in knowing that I will not forget my fellow tributes. While it is hard to lose loved ones, it does not do to dwell on the past, lest it becomes suffocating."

Then, for the following games, when Griffin had returned as mentor, aside from bringing one of the Zentagleart pictures to be auctioned away to raise sponsor money for his tributes, he had presented Caesar with a patterned picture of the famous wig. Caesar had been certainly surprised, but also happy to accept the gift and to this day it held a place of honour in his office at home. Even the President had received a picture, a rose, much to the man's delight. And that, maybe more than anything else, had in the end protected all those in the know of the suspected swap, the child included. By some mysterious way, Griffin Doyle had known that treating the President as a man of the people while at the same time singling him out with a special favour, would be playing the powerful man perfectly.

Yet knowing how to play people was a double-edged sword, especially in times of growing unrest and Caesar could clearly see the signs. A rebellion was looming on the horizon and only time would show how it all ended.

A/N: And there you have it: THE END

I hope you enjoyed the story and thanks to all readers for having made it that far with me.