Prologue II

Devoir

Caroline Snow

~17~

President of Panem

~Three Weeks Later~

I have never wanted to enter a room less. The doors stare at me, taunting me with the horror they hold behind it. Standing as far back as I can, I attempt to urge myself to go inside, breathing deeply as I begin to pace back and forth. I don't think I can do it; I just can't stand the idea of even being in the same room as-

"Madam President?" A concerned voice rings out through the rather silent air, stopping me in my tracks. I glance up, locking eyes with Lillie as she watches me from the corner of the room. Her arms are folded, with a frown locked onto her face.

"Lillie, what did I tell you about calling me that?" I cry out. She twists her mouth, looking down at the ground.

"But Miss Sn-"

"Not that either! It's way too formal, I'm already sick to death of it!" I exclaim, folding my arms in frustration. If I have to hear the name 'Madam President' or 'Miss Snow' again, I'm going to lose my god-forsaken mind. Lillie goes to speak again, before pausing to consider her words.

"Caroline. . ." She utters apprehensively.

"Yes?" I usher in approval. Lillie stops leaning against the wall, taking a few steps towards me. Her vibrant pink hair sways back and forth, lightly grazing the tops of her shoulders.

"You're so close to finishing this transition, soon enough you'll be ready to be President without my guidance," she says softly.

"I'm very much aware of that thank you," I roll my eyes, turning away from her. I swallow my disapproval of her words, biting my lip as my eyes lower away from Lillie's own amethyst tinged gaze.

I don't want to be without your guidance though, I internally pout.

"I just think, you're putting too much pressure on yourself." I scoff at her words, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Lillie, how can you possibly say that to a seventeen year-old, who is being forced to run a country?" I question quietly, trying to hold myself together. I sigh, plonking myself down on a chair as I stare blankly out of the window. I hear Lillie's cautious steps, as she approaches ever so close to my tense body.

"Of course, I understand where you're coming from. Trust me, I don't want this for you any more than you do. . . I just want you to know, you have me, you have your advisors, it's not all bad," she whispers. Pffft, yeah. . . only for now. I turn my head to her, feeling tears beginning to well in my eyes.

"Why me? Did he not understand that I wanted no part in his politics? That there are many more people qualified to run a nation than that of a naive airhead like myself?" I breathe, my voice wavering with emotion. He being of course, the late and great President Snow, my selfish Great Grandfather who never considered my own feelings in his decisions. Lillie glances at me pitifully, before pulling a chair closer and seating herself next to me. Her hand softly meets my back, patting it as you would a pet, or to console someone.

"I can't speak for Coriolanus, that mans mind was an enigma," Lillie chuckles. Her light-hearted laugh is enough to make me crack a smile, as I begrudgingly give her my attention.

"But you Caroline, are certainly no airhead. You're one of the brightest young people I've ever met, and I know you'll do great things, things that your Great Grandfather was incapable of." My gaze softens at her words, the praise doing a little to ease my discombobulated mind.

"I'm not convinced that Coriolanus would have cast this upon you, if he himself didn't deem you capable." I'm not sure if she's just saying it to make me feel better, or because she genuinely believes what she says. I don't know how anyone can confidently preach their belief in someone as young as I am, to do things as well as someone with years of political experience. Lillie has only known me personally for about three weeks; can she honestly judge my character and capabilities off of such little time?

I turn towards Lillie, biting my lower lip out of doubt.

"What makes you think that? What is there about me that suggests that I'm even remotely capable of following up after him?" I question her softly. Lillie smiles, seeming unbothered by such a momentous task.

"Because you're already twice the person he ever was," Lillie responds. I raise my eyebrow, pushing for further explanation to help justify her claims.

"Never in all my years, have I ever met such a fierce, intelligent, dominant young woman. You don't see it Caroline, but you're the better version of Coriolanus in practically every way. A leader needs to be respected, loved, celebrated, all things which he lacked." I snort at her words, amused by her opinion of the late President.

"You're saying everyone hated him?" I mutter, causing Lillie to bite her lip.

"Not exactly. . . more so that they, feared him per say." Lillie kneels down in front of me, putting both her hands on my shoulders and turning me to face her directly.

"What we need, is a benevolent leader, and that's what I see in you," Lillie whispers. Starting to feel elated, I lower my head with a smile. Perhaps, that was what I needed to hear. I know how much people feared President Snow; any mistake from a high-ranking official of the Capitol would result in either imprisonment, or 'suicide' by poison. The common populace of the Capitol would suffer even worse, through torture, or punishments to innocent loved ones, if they were the ones to misbehave. They wouldn't dare to cross President Snow, however it wasn't because they loved him, but because they were terrified of his wrath. I could change that; I could make them see that not all Snows are people t respect out of fear alone, but out of appreciation. A blessing in disguise, one could say.

"You know, a benevolent President would probably stop the Hunger Games," I point out, already knowing Lillie's answer.

"Caroline, benevolent isn't synonymous with stupid," she smirks, crossing her arms. I chuckle, nodding my head in agreement. Of course, as much as I would like to stop the Hunger Games one day, I know that cannot be done. I would be dismantling the close to a century that has passed since the Hunger Games inception, the very foundations that our society stabilizes on, that would all be for nothing if they were to be halted. Panem has lived in peace since they began, but ending them would only fuel another war.

The whole conversation I just had with Lillie, reduced to meaninglessness if I were to stop the Hunger Games. I would become the most hated President, at least by the Capitol. There are ways of being appreciated by all, and keeping most people happy; ending the Hunger Games is certainly not one of those ways.

I suddenly gulp, swallowing my nerves, remembering that even if I wanted to end the Hunger Games, I most likely couldn't. If there are supposedly people keeping watch to make sure that everything President Snow wanted to have happen is falling into place, who's to say they wouldn't step in to prevent me from ending the Hunger Games. I clench my fists, feeling a slight burst of anger as I curse my Great Grandfather. Still controlling me, from beyond the fucking grave.

It certainly doesn't help that I still have to do this rather undesirable task, one that I do question why it is so necessary. Lillie says it has been a major part of the post-game process as of the past few decades, as a way to better acquaint oneself with the Victor.

Essentially, after every Hunger Games, and a few months after the Victory Tour, the Victor has a meeting with the President, to properly meet one another on a more personal level. This used to be President Snow's way of keeping tabs on the Victor's viewpoints, and whether or not they're going to cause trouble. I don't see it like that exactly, I do think it's a good idea, but not for the same reasons.

For one, I don't think it should be mandatory, hence my confusion for why it's so necessary. That isn't to say I don't think it's a good idea, I just believe not every Victor should be required to see the President, especially if they don't want to. Many Victor's in the past have hated President Snow, opposing his views completely and would most certainly have not wanted to see him had they had the option not to. Then in the end, I suppose that's exactly why he wanted it to be mandatory, to see which people would be the Victors that would need an eye kept on them.

However, the other reason I think it's a good idea to have meetings with Victors post-game, is to see how they're doing, how they're coping, and whether or not they're okay. They're my age, and I can sympathize heavily for them, despite my inability to prevent their trauma. I want them to know that I'm not here to make their lives a living hell post-game, I think the best way to show my friendly terms with the District's, is to make an impression by being on good terms with their Victors. They are after all, highly influential figures, which I would rather be in union with rather than the opposition.

That's where the problem starts however, as not all Victors are people I want to even meet, especially the Victor of the 98th Hunger Games, who awaits me behind those damned doors. I shudder, thinking of him and his repulsive attitude. The boy that waits for me is not someone I would ever want to associate myself with. Yet, here I am, as duty calls.

"I think it's best if you begin, the sooner you do so the quicker it can be over with," Lillie speaks up, frowning at the door. I smirk a little at her attitude towards the task at hand, enjoying how it mirrors my own.

"I suppose you're not a fan of him either?" I question. Lillie furrows her brow, arms crossing as if she is repulsed.

"Oh heavens no, don't get me wrong I enjoy a Career Victor like most people, but this one thinks he's gods gift to the world. To think he now gets to handle another tributes life. . ." Lillie shudders, closing her eyes in disgust. She turns to me, looking rather determined.

"Make sure he doesn't think he can walk all over you, show him who you really are," she says darkly, gripping my shoulder with a comforting squeeze.

"Good luck Caroline, I'll see you at a later time." With that, Lillie turns on her heel, exiting the hall through a large set of doors, guarded by two burly Peacekeepers. I take a deep breath, standing up from my chair, and flattening the creases in my midnight green dress. If only this meeting had been done before President Snow had passed.

This meeting is being done much later than usual; in fact it's almost time for the Reaping's of the 99th Hunger Games. It has been pushed back so far due to the declining health of my Great Grandfather, and now I have to resume from where he left off. I hum a laugh as I imagine the terrifying, intimidating President Coriolanus Snow, speaking with this vulgar, resentful Victor. I'm sure the recent Victor wouldn't have very much to say at all, but seeing as I'm perhaps nowhere near as intimidating, I can only imagine what he might have to say to me.

I stand in front of the heavy wooden doors, with an Avox standing on either side of the doorway. I nod at them, signifying that I'm ready to embark on this task, before they scurry to the handles of the doors, and open them wide for me. The room is dimmer than the outside hallway, the curtains being drawn at almost all of the windows. I click my fingers, pointing towards the windows so that the Avoxes know to let a little light into the room. One of them nervously presses a touchpad to the side of the door, causing a slight whirring sound. Following this, the curtains begin to move aside, allowing the sunlight to flood the room.

Once I can see properly, I notice the figure at the long table that centers the room. A boy of eighteen years, leans back against the tall back of the chair, his legs propped up on top of the table, one rested on the other. Crossed arms, arms that rise up and down ever so slightly with each snoozing breath, cover his muscular abdomen. His head rests back against the chair, his tousled hair a chocolate brown that matches the color of the table. His heavily freckled face looks peaceful, his eyes shut to the world, and his slightly crooked nose still bent from a punch he received in the arena.

I roll my eyes in disgust as his snores rock the room, his mouth open wide with a long line of drool escaping onto his chin. Amazing, he doesn't even have the decency to stay awake as he waits for me to arrive.

Romulus Lindell of District 2, this is our Victor for the 98th Hunger Games. Oh god why did it have to be him? Romulus was the most abhorrent tribute there was last year. He was a pig, sexist and misogynistic, unbearably arrogant, and unfortunately a formidable fighter. My mind flashes back to the Reaping's for last year, remembering him throwing fists at people as he rushed to the stage to volunteer. I remember his Chariot Ride, where he stripped naked in an attempt to show how 'well-endowed' he was. I remember his training score, a sickening ten that just made the Capitol women gush. I remember his interview, where he revealed just how disgusting his views of the other tributes were, specifically some of the girls. And of course, I remember his time in the arena. Some of the acts he did in that arena, almost unspeakable.

Of course, he can get away with it because there are no rules in the arena, but it doesn't prevent people from changing their views of the culprit. Many of the things he did in that arena, of course the general Capitol audience ate it up, they love drama, and sometimes I think they forget that everything they see is real, all happening to real people. So after everything this creep has done, I'll be damned if he attempts to walk all over me.

From what I've seen of Romulus, the only way to stamp down authority over him is to make a strong first impression, one that would make him submit. Now is the one chance that I have for that, and I'm going to take full advantage of it.

Walking up to the table, I take a glass and fill it with cool water from the bottle beside it. I sip it as I walk closer to the center of the rectangular table, so that I am essentially directly in front of him. I finish the water from the glass, before I raise it far above my head, dropping it so that it smashes directly on the table.

It's an immediate reaction that comes from Romulus, as his eyes flutter open wildly, almost a scared lunacy held within his gaze. He almost falls off of the chair due to the sound of the smashing glass, desperately searching around him as if he is looking for something. I think back to one of the nights the Careers were ambushed last year, by a pack of ravenous squirrel muttations. He had done the same thing at the sound of the commotion, wildly stumbling up as he searched for his sword. I guess old habits die hard.

"Relax, Mr Lindell, you are no longer partaking in the Hunger Games, rather you're rudely sleeping in my absence, something that doesn't leave a lasting impression on me," I speak up, as I watch the Avox swiftly sweep aside the shards of glass.

Romulus breathes heavily, eyes still widened as he clutches his chest, trying to regain his composure. He glares at me, clearly pissed off by what I have done.

"You crazy bitch, what in the hell-"

"Do you honestly think, that's an acceptable way to address your President?" I interrupt him sternly, glaring at him with cold grey eyes, the very same my Great Grandfather possessed. He appears taken aback, not quite realizing that he was indeed talking to the new President of Panem. I can assume he is still used to Coriolanus as President, perhaps it didn't occur to him that when he was told he would be meeting with President Snow, that it would be I, Caroline Snow. Romulus straightens himself up, coughing to clear his throat as he snidely glances to the side.

"What was it? Caroline or something?" He mutters, not wanting to meet my gaze.

"You will refer to me as Madam President, if you do wish to keep your tongue," I instruct him, setting myself in the chair across from him, as his eyes wander over to the tongue-less Avoxes. I would normally shudder at such a phrase, commanding someone to actually call me Madam President, but this time in particular it's so much fun. This piece of shit human is going to learn that the world isn't his play-pen, there are rules, and he is to abide by them. The first is to give me my respect.

I cross my leg over the other, as I entwine my fingers up on the table. I tilt my head slightly, staring at him with a sense of amusement.

"Perhaps I should have your tongue cut out anyways, considering the things we all had to witness you do with that tongue in the arena," I suggest, leaning back to get comfortable.

"Or maybe a different appendage, one you utilized far more than you should have," I almost hiss. Romulus grits his teeth, glaring at me with malice, his face flushing red with a palpable rage.

"I do wish to keep my tongue. . . and my cock. . . Madam President," he murmurs in defeat. I lighten up at what he says - despite his vulgar choice of words - smiling in satisfaction.

"Excellent, I wouldn't want us to get off on the wrong foot now," I say. Romulus forces himself to meet my smile with one of his own, a rather frightening, sadistic grin. He loosens up slightly, having gone tense from the first few moments of our meeting.

"Now, I know you don't want to be here any longer than I do, so I think it's best that we get through this quickly, agreed?" I question. Romulus eyes me up, folding his arms as he leans back in his chair.

"I couldn't agree more Madame," he replies, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Now, it is customary that each new Victor becomes acquainted with the President, which now happens to be me," I explain. "I am no Coriolanus Snow, Mr Lindell, I'm much different from my Great Grandfather. I'm sure he would have liked you, he always appreciated the graphic and sadistic aspects of the Hunger Games, which we know you brought in plenty."

"You're Great Grandfather had good taste then," Romulus grins. I sneer at him, leering at his giddy face as he glorifies the acts he committed.

"One thing we do share however, is our expectations. To be respected, our rules to be followed, and for our Victors to play nice," I say softly, standing up and arching over the table. My palms meet the cool, oak wood table from District 7, as my deathly gaze locks onto Romulus' own snide one.

"You're going to be taught how to mentor this year, I believe by Cato."

"That old fool? Are you joking?" Romulus complains.

"He's only forty three, and he mentored you! He got you through the games alive!" I exclaim.

"I got myself through the games, what did he do?"

"He managed to make you likeable, somehow, to the sponsors of the Capitol. Do you think you would have gotten anywhere near as far if he didn't have some wealthy people infatuated with you? Because some of the things you did certainly didn't help," I hiss. Romulus scoffs at my words, rolling his eyes.

"Have you seen the way some of these Capitol women have thrown themselves at me? You clearly have no idea how fucked up some of your people are. They love it, and they love me for it," he grins smugly. I squint my eyes at him, smiling dangerously sweetly.

"Oh I'm well aware of how deranged some of those people are. However, I don't think you understand the full extent of those wealthy donors," I smirk at him. Romulus stares back in bemusement, his smug smile beginning to falter.

"What do you mean?"

"Those wealthy women you speak of, some of them are fanatics for the Hunger Games. Trying to convince some of them to sponsor your tribute comes at a cost, and I've heard many of them like to. . . re-enact, some of the more X-rated scenes they see broadcast," I inform him. Romulus' eyes widen, his face beginning to become a little pale.

"A lot of them really like their Careers, and if I remember correctly, you had your fair share of X-rated sce-"

"Okay! I get your damn point," Romulus spits, slouching in his chair and glaring away from me darkly. There we are, just what I was after. Submission.

"Great, now you understand what you're dealing with. As I stated before, Cato will be guiding you, this is his last year before you take his place in the eligible Mentor positions," I inform him. Romulus doesn't respond immediately, waiting a few seconds before grumbling something along the lines of 'anything else?'

"You will be back here in a weeks time alongside all of the other Mentors for this year, we will be having a meeting so that I can become acquainted with them as well." I pause a moment to let it sink into him, before continuing to speak.

"I don't want any bullshit from you during that meeting Romulus, don't test me. I may not be the

President Snow that you knew, but I can end up being so much more," I threaten him, leering at his furious expression. I turn to grab a fresh glass of water, this time to only drink from, before taking a sip of the cool pristine liquid.

"You're excused now, we're done here," I add, causing Romulus to stand up and storm out, but not before muttering a 'thank you Madam President'. I watch him as he exits, feeling satisfied with how that went down.

Originally, I didn't think I had it in me to follow up the mighty Coriolanus Snow, but maybe I'm more like him than I thought. The issue is, I don't know if that scares me. . . or excites me.

Author's Note:

And here we are with our second Prologue chapter! This time we get to see how Caroline has adjusted into her position as President, how she's able to act when trying to be stern (known as the classic Snow Demeanor), but also just how insecure and doubtful she is underneath it all. I've also introduced a new character, that being Romulus Lindell of District 2, last years Victor and considered truly vile by Caroline. I'm not too sure if I'll elaborate on the things he did in the arena, but I think I hinted quite heavily on the actsthat it involves. I'm also not too sure if anyone picked up on it, but I did mention Cato being a Victor, which means in this universe, Cato won the 74th Hunger Games, and there was no rebellion, if that's something anyone was wondering.

How did you enjoy the chapter? Any specific thoughts? I would love to hear them. I still need many submissions as I'm yet to receive any, although there are a few kind people who have said they would, I'm now just waiting on them. I did expect this, starting the first SYOT is always the hardest part. I know many may be uncertain about submitting due to seeing this as a brand new account, but I'm not at all new to this, I've done this many times before. I just hope you take the chance with me :)

Expect Prologue III soon, which is all completed and ready to upload in a few days, with the fourth and (hopefully) final Prologue already being close to completion. I'm hoping after that point I can get a full cast of tributes! Until next time!