*A/N - I'm excited to introduce some canon characters! Hope you ejoy!
—-
Steve sat in the plush chair, his stomach bulging. Maureen sat opposite him, sipping on something that was pink and fizzy.
When he had first arrived at the dining car, he'd been astounded at how much food was just lying about. The middle of the table was laden with bowls and trays and platters of various fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and breads. Then side tables were laden with hot dishes of meats, stews, and soups. Most he'd only heard about from books
He'd waited until he was given permission before he started serving his plate. He loaded it with things that he wanted to try and a few that had familiar origins with food back in District 12.
He was about to take a bite when he stopped. "Um… is any of this food made with nuts?"
The guards who were standing there didn't respond. A servant who was there to replace food as needed stepped forward.
"Only this stew contains pine nuts. And this dish, macadamia." He then stepped back and stood frozen as if he hadn't moved at all.
Steve had only gotten one of the dishes that he'd pointed at so he pushed that one away. He began eating with vigor and Maureen did the same.
"Might as well get some meat on my bones for the arena." Steve laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah," Maureen responded lightly. "Who knows what landscape we'll get, better to be as filled out as possible."
He nodded. This was something many tributes did. The last 7 districts, 5-12 were very poor, and the tributes would eat as much as they could because some arenas had little to no food. Or sometimes they had just one food source that they would have to fight over. So it was better to go into the arena with a full belly and body that was well nourished.
Although he knew that neither he nor Maureen would forget the feeling of hunger anytime soon.
The food was cleared away and they were led by one of the guards to a separate room. It was wood paneled with a beautiful glossy wooden table in the center. The circular nature of the table was accentuated with ornately carved designs on the sides.
They sat down next to each other and waited.
Not five minutes later a door in front of them opened. A guard entered first, behind him, a short man in a white coat entered, pushing up his glasses. On his heels, an even shorter man with jet black hair and a thin mustache, entered. He was wearing a button up shirt rolled up to his elbows and suspenders. These clothes surprised Steve as they were not typical of capitol citizens. The more garish and wild, the better. But these two were dressed almost normally, although Steve could tell by the fabrics and stitches that they were expensive garments all the same.
"Hello gentlemen." The one with the white coat said in an accent Steve didn't recognize. "My name is Dr. Abraham Erskine and this is Mr. Howard Stark." The guy in the suspenders tipped his head towards him.
"I will be your health and body consultant and Howard will be your stylist, trainer, gadget whiz, and prep team in all aspects of the arena. Your mentor should be here any minute. Do you have any questions for us?"
The man seemed kind, and very unlike anything he had expected.
"What kind of questions should we be asking, sir?" Maureen ventured.
Dr. Erskine smiled, a genuine smile that had Steve leaning forward.
"What an excellent question you ask dear. You can ask us anything. What to expect, what you need, what we will be doing for the next few weeks of prep, anything that comes to mind."
"I thought…" Steve started, "I mean, I don't mind and all, but I thought tributes had a whole team of people for all the things you mentioned Mr. Stark does…?" He trailed off in a question, hoping he hadn't caused offense.
"Hey, no worries pal." The man spoke up, in an almost but not quite capitol accent, "I told those capitol game planners that any team I was on, was gunna be just me. I didn't want other hands futzing up my work. So they gave me District 12, as if that was some kinda punishment." He chuckled as if the joke was on them, but this confused Steve even more because from the rumors he'd heard, working with District 12, the last district, was a punishment. Everyone knew the best stylists wanted the 1-4th districts.
"Well, thanks, I think." Steve responded.
"You got it pal, we're gonna make one hell of a team." He paused and smiled at them, then realized something. "I haven't gotten your names yet." He raised an eyebrow in question.
"I'm Steve. Steve Rogers." He stated.
"And I'm Maureen Calvin." She murmured. Howard nodded at that.
"Those are some good names. Strong names. We can work with that." Steve didn't know what he meant, but he just nodded along as Howard kept muttering and making notes in a notepad.
"Any other questions?" Erskine wondered.
"Can you- maybe just walk us through some details?" Steve queried. "I mean we've been required to watch the games since we were kids, but the behind the scenes has always been somewhat of a mystery."
"Of course, Mr. Rogers." He sat down and folded his hands into his lap. "The next two days on this train we will talk strategy, plans, how to approach all the media and attention that is about to come your way. While I haven't had the opportunity to watch the newsreels, your volunteering for your friend is already making a buzz." Steve flushed, but Erskine mollified him. "This is good, attention that will get sponsors is good." Steve knew what he was talking about and Maureen was nodding along as well. Sponsors were an integral part of the arena. Everyone knew about those.
"Once we arrive at the Tribute Center, you will be put through rigorous testing and challenges, to hone your skills and learn what can make you the best tribute you can be. They don't want dull games, they want games with excitement and intrigue that keeps the capitol citizens invested. So they will want to know what you are best at. The arena will be designed around you as they learn about you. Things to help you, and things to harm you. Never forget that the arena can be the greatest challenge."
Steve also knew what he meant by that statement. Usually ⅓ or more of the tributes died by starvation, fire, exhaustion, dehydration, and natural causes. Especially when there hadn't been a killing in a while, the gamemakers would up the stakes by throwing a new wrench into the game.
"What is the lady's name… who brought us on the train?" He asked. He was tired of referring to her as capitol lady.
"Oh that's Tatiana." Howard said, rolling his eyes. "She will be your liaison for a lot of things. Prepping your manners for the interviews, publicity, and any other meet and greets. And generally just keeping us on schedule."
As if the mention of a schedule summoned her, the door behind them opened and Tatiana walked in with a flourish, being followed by their mentor.
Steve recognized him from all his years working with Tributes. Chester Phillips. He was a huge barrel chested man with a deep voice. He was always commanding and stoic on the screens, but Steve knew he cared for the tributes and their districts. Rumors of anonymous donations to people would always have his name circling around.
Not many district 12 tributes had won in the last 73 years. Steve could only think of 2 women, one now dead, and 3 men in total, with Phillips being the last remaining male. The other living female was in her 80's and couldn't move much, she was a winner in the 8th Hydra games, having been only 13 at the time. She'd mentored up until her back gave out and hadn't participated much since then.
Erskine greeted him and so did Howard. Phillips sat down across from them and cut to the chase.
"I have never won a Hydra Games." He stared at them, waiting for them to respond. "It boils my blood that they take kids, who've never eaten enough a day in their life, and been never trained to fight, and throw them into an arena specifically designed to kill them." He leaned forward and his large hands were scarred and knotted, but Steve knew they were strong. "I will do everything in my power to give you both a fighting chance. It's my only option, but I need to know you're committed."
Steve found himself nodding along with Maureen.
He nodded curtly and leaned back. "Okay good. It's hard enough to send kids in there knowing they might not make it out, I need to know I'm sending in fighters.
"I may not look like much," Steve admitted with embarrassment, "but I promised my ma and friend I would try. So I will."
"My dad," Maureen whispered, her voice shaking, "my dad told me that I was the best climber he's ever known, and that I might have a chance if I outlast everyone."
Steve nodded in encouragement. It did no good to know that they couldn't both make it out of the arena, so he would support her for as long as he was able.
Phillips again nodded and Tatiana was oddly quiet in the corner.
"You are going to make excellent Tributes," she finally spoke. "You two have heart and that will be a big help to you for sponsors."
Steve noticed that Erskine and Howard glanced at each other but then quickly went back to their notes.
"It was good to meet you two." Erskine said, standing up. "I look forward to learning more about you and begin getting you ready, however, for the rest of the evening I think you are better off getting some good sleep. You will need all the rest you can get to strengthen your bodies and minds." He nodded at the door and they took their sign to leave.
The door clicked shut behind them and they walked softly back through many cars until they reached their cabins.
"Hey Maureen," Steve said, as she was stepping through her door. She turned and looked at him, questioningly. "You won't… I wouldn't… I-"
She smiled softly. "I know Steve. Me either." She vanished behind her door and he let his door close behind him.
He found a pair of pajama pants in a drawer, and changed into those, not putting on a shirt because it was rather warmer in the cabin then it was in his drafty cabin in District 12.
He climbed into bed and laid there for a while, half enjoying how comfortable the bed was, and half trying to push down the fear of what was to come. He curled himself up into a tight ball, barely taking up a fraction of the bed, and thought of home until he drifted off.
—-
The next day passed with a flurry of activity.
Apparently Tatiana had sent word ahead about Steve's unusual stature and the seamstresses at the capitol wanted to have everything right. Steve had the most unusual experience as Howard and another servant, who never spoke a single word the entire time, circled him like vultures and measured every square inch of his body. They even took pictures of his eyes, and a hair from his head to have the colors sampled.
He knew Maureen was getting a similar treatment and by lunch they were both tired of people poking and prodding their bodies.
He gorged on more food. The meals he was eating were three times the size of his normal meals. He wanted to keep eating but his stomach stretched in protest and he had to stop before he threw it all back up.
After lunch they were brought into the planning room again with Phillips.
"You got all your stuff with Howard finished?" He asked in a gruff voice.
"I think so." Steve replied. "He mumbled a lot so I wasn't exactly sure."
"He tends to do that when his mind is running a million miles a minute. Best to leave him be at those times."
They both nodded and waited for him to continue.
"The interviews are one of the most important aspects of the games. If you do poorly in those, then you will lose sponsorships and you have to understand that sponsors can be the difference of life and death in the arena."
He stared at them, making sure they were taking in what he was saying, but he didn't need to worry, Steve was soaking up any advice or strategy he could. He was going to try his best, and a small glance at Maureen showed her with an actual notepad taking notes. Where had she gotten that? He wanted one.
He asked and within a minute a small pad of paper and a pen fancier than one he'd ever held in his life sat before him.
"What is our best angle to win sponsors?" Maureen asked.
Phillips pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned back and eyed them both.
"Each tribute that I have mentored has had different skills, personalities, and physical attributes that have guided them in their interviews. Whether they were big and strong and acted like a brute, or went the opposite and acted like the picture of innocence. And there's a lot of ground in between. There is no 'wrong answer' but there is 'wrong for you'." They nodded, this made sense.
"While Maureen, I believe we could play up your feminine and innocent side. You're 15 correct?" She nodded and Steve blinked. He hadn't even thought to ask how old she was. It made him sick. A 15 year old, being sent off to die. At least… At least it wasn't the year when he was 10, where by some chance of fate, 17 of the tributes in the arena were under the age of 13. It had been one of the worst years seeing that many young children die and most of them had horrible deaths because their opponents weren't old enough or skilled enough to kill them efficiently. And many died of natural causes without the skills or abilities to survive. He shuddered and then focused on steadying his breathing.
Maureen and Phillips were still talking about what angle she could use. She was nodding eagerly and taking notes. After about an hour it was decided that young, innocent, graceful and "worth saving" were the angles she would play. They would focus on 'beautifying' her physical appearance while she would train hard behind closed doors to hone her weapon and fighting skills.
He sent her off to fill in Howard. Then he turned his full attention to Steve. His gaze made Steve want to shrink even further in his chair, but he knew that wasn't the right response, so he squared his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
"And what about you?" Phillips' queried, "what do you think is the right angle for you?"
Steve took a second to think, he knew what he wanted to say, but he knew that was a lie. Strength or force was not in his arsenal.
"I'm not strong." Steve said calmly. "I have tight lungs, a heart flutter, and I'm allergic to a significant amount in nature." Phillip's eyes widened slightly with his proclamation, but he kept silent, listening. "I don't think angling that I'm strong or quick is the way to go. But…" He really paused and thought. Was this too much like bragging? He looked at Phillips who had one eyebrow arched. "I'm-I'm good at strategy, and I understand math and... trajectory, and lots of factors like that. What I mean is… While I may not be able to punch someone's lights out, I can throw a knife with good accuracy. I can guess opponents' mindsets and what moves they try. Not that I'm strong enough to avoid them." His multiple bullies and beatings came to mind, but he forged on. "But I can usually predict what they'll do. I Iike to think I can read people pretty well." He trailed off unsure if he was being too generous with himself.
When Phillips didn't respond right away he tried to remain calm. "I don't want to sound like I'm bragging sir. I'm not saying I'm a genius or anything. I just think it might be brains over brawns for me. I want to have the best shot that I can, and you can put me to the test if you think I'm exaggerating about anything. I'm willing to learn and do whatever it takes to have the best possible shot at going home."
Something in his last statement made Phillips' eyes soften just a touch. He leaned forward and wrote something in his leather folio.
"I think brains play a large part in the arena. Sometimes more than brawns. I wouldn't count you out." He said, nodding towards Steve. "You just may surprise those idiotic capitol fans yet. And Tatiana was not lying. Your sacrifice, volunteering for your friend? That will stick out in peoples' minds. And we need to remind them of it, often."
"Sir, I don't-"
"Not you. I don't want you bringing it up. Stark, Erskine, Tatiana and I will do that. You only talk about it when asked. It will seem more… reverent to your sacrifice that way."
Steve felt a bit sick, "I'm not sure I-." He whispered.
"You don't know how these games work. You will listen to what I say if you want a chance. Understood?."
"Yes, sir."
They talked for a while more and then he was dismissed.
He walked back towards the dining car and snacked on a few things. There was a servant in the corner who he tried to talk to, but they just smiled at him and remained silent. He asked if anything had apples in it, and the servant pointed to what looked like a pastry. He took a bite and he sighed at the delicious flavor of warm apples, cinnamon, and honey. He'd only ever had an apple once but he'd never forgotten how much he had loved it.
He sat there and sipped on something that was hot and sweet, glancing subtly at the man standing in the corner. There had only been one servant who had spoken to him; the first day about the food. Other than that, he had noticed that none of the others spoke. He wondered if they weren't allowed.
Maureen came by, eating a chicken pot pie and a fruit tart before flipping through the regulated capitol television that was in every car. The capitol was in a tizzy over the coming games. They kept showing the reaping footage over and over. Steve noticed that they played his volunteering almost twice as much as everyone else's reaping footage and he realized that they hadn't been exaggerating. A volunteer from an outlying district was a rare thing.
But the footage kept showing Bucky's reaction, and his ma's as well, and he couldn't stand to look at it anymore. He didn't want his last memories of them to be anger and fear.
They watched the other tributes with interest. The tributes from District 1 and 2 were all volunteers. Huge, muscular, and beautiful in a terrifying way. They could snap Steve in half without effort. He had to remember that career tribute's didn't always win. They mostly did… but not always.
The tributes from District 3 were small and thin but looked healthy and cunning.
District 4's female tribute was over 6 feet tall. She towered over the crowd. Her male counterpart was average sized but looked tiny compared to her.
Nobody in District 5 stood out to him but the female in District 6 made his heart stop.
A girl, probably his age was called.
'Wait, can you rewind?" He said without thinking.
Maureen acquiesced and rewound 30 seconds.
Their version of Tatiana was covered in Giraffe spots. Her neck was surgically elongated and her clothes looked like it was made of fur.
"And the female victor of District 6 is…" She fished in their giant bowl. "Margaret Carter!" The voice came through the screen with a tinny sound.
Steve's eyes were glued to the girl who strode forward in confidence. She had thick brown hair that fell in soft waves, the most beautiful skin he'd ever seen, and was wearing red lipstick, with matching red shoes.
Her face was set in a determined gaze and she didn't show any emotion as her and the boy whose name Steve hadn't paid any attention too, were being walked back into their city hall.
His eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the doors and he sat there still staring.
Maureen giggled and lightly pushed him. "Wow, one look and you got it bad."
He flushed deep scarlet, and closed his mouth that was agape.
"No, I just-" He flustered. She smiled at him and he chuckled in response. "I just have never seen a girl like her before." They spent some time talking about District 12, who they both knew and what they would miss about home. Eventually Maureen admitted to always having had a crush on Bucky and Steve laughed and rolled his eyes.
"You and every girl around his age." He chuckled.
After a bit they decided to get as much rest as possible and they went back to their cabins.
He called up his capitol screen and watched District 6's reaping again. Something about her really drew him in and after a minute he switched it off, laughing at himself.
"Clear your head, Steve." He'd never really had feelings for a girl before, and starting now didn't seem like the best idea.
He changed into his pajamas and slept deeply.
—-
*A/N - I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter we reach the capitol!