Aurelia Charm, 23, Victor of the 82nd Hunger Games

June 8th, 87 ADD

Another year, another Bloodbath.

Aurelia sat cross-armed behind her desk. The desk beside her was Braun's, and Godric was close by as well. All the way on the opposite side of the room was Sienna Asher, her fingertips tapping anxiously on her desk.

Not that Aurelia was paying attention.

Braun leaned over. "Do you see Paris?"

"He should be on your tablet," she replied. Each Mentor had their own tablet that showed their tributes, exclusively, at all times. It was among many other devices, which showed maps and sponsorships and other boring things.

"Well, of course, but I can't see who he's next to," he said.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she said, although her eyes drifted up to the wall-to-wall screen in front of her. Every wall of the Mentor's office was covered with screens. As the timer counted down- only forty seconds left now- they flipped from tribute to tribute.

"There's Bianca," he mused, noting Aurelia's mentee as she flashed across the screen. "But where… oh!"

"See, he's fine," Aurelia repeated as she spotted the tributes flanking Paris. "The girl from Seven scored a four, and the other kid is twelve."

"Bianca's got competition, though," Braun replied. "I've been keeping my eye on the boy from Three, and he'll definitely put up a fight."

"Still untrained," Aurelia countered. "No problem."

Twenty seconds left.

"Well, here we go," she mumbled. For all of her bravado, she wasn't a huge fan of the opening moments of the Games. She wasn't like Braun with all those mentees under his belt- five years mentoring was still relatively inexperienced. At least she was a Career… although Braun might have disagreed with that.

Not that she cared what he thought.

Braun leaned forward in his chair, poring over the screens. Almost eager for the Games to begin. Aurelia rolled her eyes at how invested he was. He'd always loved the Games a little too much- psychoanalyzing the tributes, making predictions, the general uncertainty of it all. She smirked. Imagine the Games being a personality trait. As quickly as it had come, though, the smirk faded.

Ten seconds left.

Five.

One.

The tributes began to run.

Aurelia looked away, trying to push back the memories.

She was never supposed to Volunteer.

In fact, she was expressly told not to.

She was eighteen, and she was angry and desperate. She'd trained for years to enter the Games, and they went with stupid Opal over her. They told her to her face that she'd lost, that it was all over. It was an outrage. It was entirely unacceptable.

And Aurelia was reckless enough to do something about it.

As soon as the Reaped girl's name had passed the escort's lips, Aurelia had bolted forward like an arrow from a bow. Opal, stupid Opal, was caught off guard. Opal hadn't planned on rushing forward. She felt so secure in her position that she didn't even consider Aurelia would take matters into her own hands.

Aurelia made it onstage first. She won the spot. She'd proven that she was the worthy contender. Now, she just had to win the Games too, and everything would be perfect. After she said her good-byes to her shell-shocked mother and proud father, she made her way onto the train, where her district partner and her Mentor were waiting. To her surprise, her partner was miffed, and her Mentor was downright furious. Even though stupid Opal had never earned the position in the first place- Aurelia had, she'd beaten her to it fair and square- her Mentor despised what she'd done. Braun believed in order, and Aurelia had just stomped all over the precious rulebook he held so dear. Simply put, their first meeting did not go well.

Once in the Capitol, Aurelia had managed to worm her way into the Career alliance, but never into the affections of her partner or Mentor. Alistair wasn't exactly likeable anyway, so Aurelia didn't care about his opinion, but Braun… Braun explicitly ignored her, spending all of his resources on Alistair. He was supposed to be helping her, and he wouldn't. You shouldn't be here, he'd believed, so he pretended she wasn't there at all.

It had only made her fight harder. She was worthy, she had to be. There was no other option. Once or twice she'd wondered if that was the point of his behavior, to motivate her, but she didn't bother with that fantasy anymore. Aurelia knew better now.

The actual Games, once she was in the arena, was difficult (a volcanic wasteland her year), especially alone. But maybe that was mostly her own fault. On the third night, after the Careers had taken out the two biggest outer-district threats, Aurelia was left on watch alone. She'd never been one to let an opportunity slip by, and every Career's throat was slit that night.

From then on, she was by herself. Just the way she liked it…

Or so she'd thought. The stress, the paranoia, the terror- it was close to unbearable. Aurelia Charm had never doubted herself in her life, but as soon as she was alone in the arena, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made the right decision. It was absolute torment, and she had no idea how to cope.

What if Opal wasn't the stupid one?

I want to go home, just let me go home…

What if Braun was right?

Not that she cared what he thought.

After eighteen days, she made it out, but she was shattered. Not so much over the deaths- although with eight kills, five being her own allies, she was among the more deadly Victors- but she didn't know herself anymore. That brazen girl who cowered at nothing had melted away with the lava of the arena. Her prideful shell was still intact- mostly- but inside was only emptiness.

She was a winner, all she'd ever wanted to be. She'd even broken One's fifteen-year losing streak. But it hadn't won Braun's affections, just forced him to tolerate her. It hadn't won her district's, who now disliked her both for killing Alistair as well as taking stupid Opal's place. Being a winner was worth nothing, and it tore her apart.

No matter what she did, she was never worthy to those people.

And then the next year, she didn't even get to Mentor her own district. She was stuck in Twelve, and that was even worse, because she wasn't even good enough to Mentor her own district. She'd been dumb enough to hope they had a chance, but they were slaughtered. And then the next year, same outcome. The third year, both Bloodbath deaths. Her hope, fragile to begin with, was dulled. She stopped caring, but only because she had to. Protecting herself was more important.

That fourth year, though… that spark had come back. That spark's name was Dale, and she wanted him to win so badly. She wanted to escape that hellhole that was Twelve, and she wanted to feel good about herself. She could help him, and that was a victory no one could ruin. He was strong, and good-looking, and-

He died.

He died, and somehow- somehow- his partner, the small fourteen-year-old girl, the one Aurelia hadn't bothered to break her own heart over, was the one who came back. Sienna lived, and that meant that Aurelia was no better than Braun. The idea made her sick.

Not that she would admit that.

On the screens in front of them, the Bloodbath ended.

"That was a strong one," said Braun, barely suppressing a grin. "Nine tributes down. Eight and Twelve are already out of the running, and Five, Six, Ten, and Eleven aren't doing great either."

"Noted," Aurelia replied. But she had turned around in her seat, trying to get a glimpse of someone outside the arena.

Across the room, Sienna- now sixteen- was wiping her eyes with her sleeves. Grover from Eleven was speaking to her in a hushed voice, and Dimitri from Ten was holding out a box of tissues. Sienna's eyes flicked up and caught Aurelia's, and Sienna immediately straightened in her chair. She set her jaw and didn't look away, even when Aurelia turned back around in her seat and back to her partner.

Braun didn't seem to notice, already tapping away on a device as he arranged to meet with potential sponsors. Aurelia watched him for a moment.

Then, with a sigh, she forced herself to do the same.

Sienna Asher, 16, Victor of the 85th Hunger Games

As soon as she spotted Aurelia looking over, she straightened up. Aurelia didn't get to see her cry. She hadn't earned Sienna's tears.

Grover glanced over and noticed who she was looking at. "Ignore her," he said.

Dimitri nodded. "Yeah, she's a stone-cold bitch," he added helpfully.

After a moment, Aurelia swiveled back around and went to work.

It was Sienna's second year Mentoring, and for the second time in a row, both of her tributes were dead in the first ten minutes. Lilla, Owen, Mae-Bell, Josiah- all gone. She looked away from her tablets, which still showed Mae-Bell and Josiah's empty eyes. Sienna wasn't empty, not yet, but she was struggling.

She'd been the one to make it out of the arena, and if she couldn't pull anyone else out, what did this all mean? Had everyone died for nothing? Had they made sacrifices just for her to fail them?

No. It couldn't be. She just had to keep holding on, and this would all make sense. At the very least, she had to try.

"You headed back to your apartment?" Grover asked. "I'll walk you."

"No," Sienna replied, "I'll stay here for a while."

Grover and Dimitri exchanged a glance. The two Mentors had immediately taken Sienna under their wings last year, and had since become good friends to her. It was a unique dynamic- sort of like uncles, but also older brothers- but it was an extremely welcome one in the Capitol. Grover was quieter, softer, more rational, where Dimitri was blunt and sarcastic. Both were well-intentioned, and both looked out for her.

"It's that girl, isn't it," Dimitri said. He didn't bother phrasing it as a question.

"If she wins…" Sienna trailed.

"It's still a big if," Grover said, not unkindly. "How about you spend the rest of the day recovering, and then check back in tomorrow? If anything happens I'll call."

"Okay," Sienna relented.

"Great," he replied. "I'll walk you back. Dimitri…"

"I'll keep an eye on him," he said. "See ya."

Grover led Sienna to the elevators, and the two headed away from the screens.

It was the seventeenth day of the Games, and only two tributes were left standing. The Mentors had gathered together for the finale.

"That girl," as Dimitri had referred to her, was one of them.

Sienna still wasn't sure what to feel. Should she be rooting for her? She'd been following "that girl" since the Reapings, and it was clear Sienna wasn't her favorite person. If she won, she'd confront Sienna, and Sienna had no idea how that interaction would go. Probably not well. But Sienna also wasn't one to wish death on anybody.

"Oh, shit!" Dimitri murmured. Sienna snapped out of it and focused on the screen, where the finalists, the girl from Two and the boy from One, were dueling. It was intense, and Sienna flinched every time the blades struck metal (let alone flesh). It brought back memories…

In front of her, the girl swung her katana and took off a chunk of the boy's hand. The room collectively winced as the boy screamed and stumbled backwards. The girl advanced. Sienna wanted to look away, but she forced herself to watch.

She felt like she owed it to her.

The boy jabbed at her, but the lunge was wild, and the girl easily sidestepped. The boy began to pull his sword back to prepare for another swing, but he was too slow, and the girl struck his abdomen. It had been wounded several days before, and the boy fell back as an old wound reopened. He hit the ground with a gasp.

The girl stood over him, bruised and bloody. Strands of familiar blonde hair hung loose around her face. She wore a solemn expression- she took no enjoyment in this act, but she was resolute. There was no turning back. No mercy was in those pale blue eyes.

The boy didn't give up. He kept struggling on the ground, punching and writhing the best he could.

"Come on, Diana, let me up, let's go at it again…" the boy wheezed onscreen.

"Paris," she murmured, "I'm done."

He coughed weakly, blood staining his hand. The blood was everywhere. He aimed a punch at her knee. She cried out as it landed, but she managed to hold firm. Gritting her teeth, she plunged the katana into the center of his neck. He spluttered for a moment, then went still.

Boom.

The Capitol's typical fanfare began to blast through the speakers. Meanwhile, the announcers were going wild as they literally shouted the girl's name to the audience.

"Now presenting the Victor of the 87th Annual Hunger Games, Diana Van Zandt!" they roared.

Sienna swallowed. It looked like her feelings had been decided for her.

And with that, subs are officially closed for Gilded Cage! Thank you to everyone who subbed: I've got some tough decisions ahead of me, but I'm hoping to get the cast list/blog up tomorrow afternoon before 6 pm EST. Luckily I'm out for the summer already, so I have some time to work on this.

Once again, I'd just like to say thank you for submitting. I know this became a very competitive story, much more so than I was anticipating, and I'm so grateful that you guys were willing to take a chance. I really do appreciate all the work you guys have done. That being said, I know there'll be some disappointment tomorrow, and I want to remind you guys that my choices have nothing to do with you all as people, writers, or submitters.

Anyway, that's all from me. I hope you guys enjoyed this last prologue (lots happening, huh?) and I'll see you tomorrow with the cast list!

-r-b