A/N
Well I'm still not quite over last week's chapter and despite the conclusion to the Games, we still have things to wrap up before this story reaches it's end! As mentioned, this is the first of two final post-games chapters, which will focus on our subplot characters in the aftermath of the finale. You can expect a whole lot of chaos here, as well as a POV from a character we have not yet had before! Enjoy!
Cascade Nepeta, District One Mentor
For the first time, the mentor suite was silent.
Twenty four sets of eyes (the escorts had come to join the finale celebrations too) gazed upon the empty space of air where the holographic screen had been streaming the Games merely seconds ago before it had promptly shut itself down.
Cascade didn't notice that her hands were trembling in her lap until Aella placed her warm hands over them.
What the fuck had just happened?
"The President is dead!" the sound of the shrill voice of the escort from Eight, stating the obvious, pierced the silence painfully.
At once the room erupted into noise again; the chatterings and gasps of horror being exchanged at high speed, forming layer upon layer of sound that drilled through Cascade's ears. She sat still, her body no longer under her control, as a feeling of nausea gathered in the pit of her stomach.
The stream may have stopped, but the scenes in Cascade's mind had not. She could see, as clearly as a photograph in her mind, the elaborate design in her head. The beautiful sculpture of the golden rose with its large petals peeled back; a centrepiece blooming like the fresh blossoms of spring. The intricate path of the stems as they wove a careful path between the delicate layers of porcelain skin. The fragile blooms of snow-white roses laying gracefully against their muse. Cascade could recall it all in perfect detail, even though the scene had only been broadcast for a few moments. She could even remember the peaceful look on Aurelia's face as death placed her in a lasting slumber; her dark eyelashes tickling the pale tops of her cheeks and a gentle dew on her closed, plump lips.
"Cascade?" Aella squeezed her hand gently. "Are you alright?"
Reality refocused itself in front of Cascade's eyes as she blinked a few times in quick succession. Almost at once, the chaos of the room around her returned; causing her temples to pulsate. Her mouth felt dry as she tried to swallow.
I heard that she was sleeping with the Head Gamemaker.
Do you think Cascade had her killed off?
Maybe it was a rebel group from the Districts?
What about the last two tributes?
Who won the Games?
Questions and accusations bounced from wall to wall.
"I…" Cascade could barely form a word as she tried to separate her own thoughts from the spoken thoughts that filled the suite.
She didn't know what to think, nor did she have time to think before the double doors of the mentor suite were flung open and a handful of armed Peacekeepers forced their way in.
"We are here for Cascade Nepeta," the Peacekeeper who was standing a little further forward than his other three cohorts announced.
"What for?" asked the escort from Twelve, who Cascade believed was called Tula. "Do you think she was involved with the President's death?"
"That is privileged information," replied the Peacekeeper, taking a few further strides into the room. "Now, would Miss Nepeta come with us immediately."
Cascade slowly rose to her feet.
"I'm here," she said with enough volume for the Peacekeeper to hear her from halfway across the room.
As Cascade began to walk across the marbled floor, her heels scratching against its smooth surface, she was suddenly stopped by Aella, who flung herself in front of Cascade's path, her back facing her as Aella turned her attention to the small group of Peacekeepers.
"She's not coming with you," Aella firmly told the first Peacekeeper. "Without the President, you have no authority here."
"I have all the authority I need," insisted the Peacekeeper, taking a large step closer towards Aella. He straightened his posture to emphasise that he was broader and taller than the dark haired Victor from Four.
"Authority from whom?" Aella challenged, standing her ground.
"That is none of your concern," retorted the Peacekeeper impatiently. "Step aside, or else I will be forced to move you myself."
"Go ahead," hissed Aella. "Move me."
Standing a little further behind, Cascade looked towards her friend with concern.
"Aella, it's ok," said Cascade in a subdued tone. "I'll go with them."
Cascade had no doubt that the Peacekeepers were here to arrest her, assuming that she had some involvement with the death of the President. Secrets had a short expiration in the Capitol; it was sensible to assume that her recent break-up with Ivo was public knowledge now, and therefore likely the affair between him and the late President with it.
A jealous ex; that would be the story the Capitol would write. Cascade had killed before, albeit under very different circumstances and certainly far less elaborately, but the people believed any scandal that was put before them –the more sensational the better.
What could be more sensational than a scorned, betrayed ex murdering the object of her previous lover's desire?
Aella looked over her shoulder at Cascade; her dark eyes gleaming. She shook her head, then turned back to the Peacekeepers.
"I repeat," Aella spoke loudly. "Move me."
The Peacekeeper reached for his holster, drawing his pistol and raising it towards Aella. He clicked off the safety.
Cascade's heart missed a beat.
But as Cascade's feet twitched, about to run over to hand herself in despite her innocence, someone else trotted forward, placing themselves directly between the barrel of the gun and Aella.
"There is no need for all this nonsense," tutted Eudora Delambre, clearly not bothered by the fact that the gun was now directed at her. "I'm sure we can all come to a friendly agreement here, can't we?"
The Peacekeeper huffed. "We're not here for friendly agreements. I suggest you also get out of my way before I send this bullet through your brain, as well as through the bitch behind you."
Eudora gasped dramatically. "That bitch is Aella Castro, Victor of the Eighty-Second Hunger Games!"
"Do I look like I give a fuck who she is?" responded the Peacekeeper, his voice getting more and more irritated as each second passed.
"I can't say you look like anything, to be honest," said Eudora, tapping on the helmet of the Peacekeeper with a long and pointed false nail. "You see, you have this thing covering your face at the moment. It's very hard to tell what you look like at all –you could have a distasteful moustache for all I know!"
"That's it," threatened the Peacekeeper, pushing the gun against Eudora's forehead. "One more word from you and I'll—"
"Shoot me?" suggested Eudora. "I doubt you are authorised to do that, and I would highly recommend against such an action."
Throughout Eudora's interception, Aella had cautiously made her way a few steps back. She was now standing beside Cascade, resting a protective hand on her exposed milky white shoulder.
"Now, Mr Peacekeeper," said Eudora. "As your name suggests, you are a keeper of the peace. So how about we come to that friendly agreement I suggested?"
"How about I put this bullet in your stupid little head and carry on doing my fucking job?!"
"There, there, Mr Peacekeeper," Eudora raised her hands to calm him. "Would a little champagne help to calm your anger? You know, anger isn't good for your heart."
The Capitolite-turned-mentor beckoned for someone to pass her a glass of champagne, which she held out towards the man.
"Here, take a nice drink of this," she instructed. "Then you can calmly explain to us all what the bloody hell is going on here, including what has happened to my Scott. I would very much like to know whether there is a trident through his chest right now, or whether I have my first Victor."
"It's a ranseur," Aella whispered under her breath beside Cascade, although Cascade could tell that Aella was also concerned about the status of her tribute, who had last been seen hobbling across a balcony in the arena, shortly before Aurelia's body was displayed and the stream abruptly brought to an end.
The Peacekeeper, clearly fed up with Eudora's attempt to de-escalate the situation used his free hand to direct the other three bodies towards Cascade.
Eudora was helpless to move as the first Peacekeeper kept his gun to her forehead. She simply stood with her hands raised, one still holding the champagne glass, as the other three walked past her and towards Cascade.
Cascade felt herself stepping backwards.
Aella pushed herself in front of Cascade once more.
As the Peacekeepers approached, two of them went for Aella, grabbing her arms as she tried to fight back. She managed to kick one of them squarely in the chest, causing him to stumble back a few paces, but the other one grabbed her from behind, holding his arm around her neck tightly. Aella squirmed beneath his grasp, digging her elbows backwards, but with his white armour protecting him, her attempts were hopeless.
Cascade gasped as gloved hands landed heavily on her shoulders.
"It wasn't me," she told the Peacekeeper, though she knew that made no difference. "I swear, I had nothing to do with anything."
"You can explain that in your trial," he replied firmly.
Trial.
So this was an arrest.
A sudden wave of panic crashed through Cascade. She had heard about trials in the Capitol; how the truth was merely brushed to the side in favour of the narrative the President desired to play. There may be no President now, but whomever was controlling these Peacekeepers would likely be the script writer for 'justice', and by all accounts, Cascade had a fair idea that her guilt was already decided.
There would be no justice for Cascade Nepeta.
Her reactions quick, with her training still relatively fresh in her mind, Cascade ducked out of the Peacekeeper's grip. As she ran from him, she noticed Aella taking advantage of the now distracted Peacekeepers, slipping out of their hold. With nimble fingers, Aella swiped one of their guns, pointing it in their direction as she backed up towards Cascade.
The two Peacekeepers who still retained their weapons drew them instantly, pointing them towards the two women.
Stalemate.
A gunshot rang through the room, almost deafening Cascade.
The room fell silent as the first Peacekeeper kept his arm in the air, his pistol having sent a bullet into the ceiling above.
"Drop the gun now," he demanded, turning to Aella. "Or I swear I will shoot this fucking woman dead!"
Aella didn't stir. Holding the gun with one hand, she used her other free arm to nudge Cascade gently backwards, towards the back exit of the suite.
"There need not be bloodshed tonight," the sound of Daphne LeFay's wise voice came from beside Cascade. She hadn't even noticed the mentor's presence; Daphne had slipped away earlier on without a word as to her destination. It mattered little now, Cascade supposed.
"It would be very unwise to start shooting in here," continued Daphne, stepping further into the centre of the room. "May I advise you that Miss Nepeta is pregnant. Should she be hit by a stray bullet then you may not only kill a prized Victor, but also an unborn child."
The two other Peacekeepers with guns seemed to hesitate at Daphne's words, their arms lowering a little. Aella kept her arm extended straight in front of her, keeping her gun pointed towards the men in white armour.
The first Peacekeeper, unlike his colleagues, seemed to care very little.
"You are all clearly not grasping how serious I am," he said with a straight, monotonous tone.
A second gunshot fired.
A shriek followed immediately afterwards.
Cascade's eyes grew wide as she watched Eudora Delambre collapse onto the marbled floor in a crumpled heap of colour; her skull landing with a crack against the solid surface. A hole in her forehead leaked dark, thick blood that ran down the side of her face, gathering in a small pool on the floor beside her.
Chaos ensued.
Cascade had been in a bloodbath before, but this time she felt at an utter loss. Aella clasped hold of her wrist firmly, dragging her across the room as she fired shots out behind them. The mentors and escorts scattered, screaming and rushing for the two exits on either side of the room. Some of the mentors seemed panicked; the chaos reminding them harshly of the trauma of the Games. Charron Macnair ducked behind a chair, his head in his hands as he hid from the violence. Peyton Tolwood stood in shock, his face emotionless, until a bullet struck him in the arm and he cried out in pain. Dagmar Drysdell seemed to thrive on the turmoil, taking hold of two champagne bottles and smashing them against the bar, then running into the fray and swiping the broken glass at anyone in her path. Cascade stifled a gasp as the Victor from Eight slashed the glass across the neck of Queenie, the escort from One who had guided Cascade through her Victory the previous year and had stood by her side during this year's Games.
"Cascade, quick!" it was Daphne, who had somehow managed to reach the back door and was holding it open as escorts and mentors stumbled out in a panic. She waved frantically at the two of them as they ran towards the exit, ducking from flying bullets and stepping over knocked pieces of furniture and smashed glasses.
The exit drew nearer. Cascade's heart was thumping, perhaps even louder than it had during her time in the arena. As she reached the door, she felt Aella fall beside her, almost pulling her down to the floor too.
"Aella!" Cascade cried out, coming to a skidding halt.
"Go Cascade!" Aella screamed, waving her free arm to gesture for Cascade to keep running. Cascade shook her head, reaching down to help her friend.
Aella shook her head, looking down desperately at her leg, which had been hit by a bullet. It seemed to have missed a major artery, but Aella was struggling to stand.
"Cascade, you have to go," Daphne had rushed up beside her, encouraging her. "Aella will be fine, but you won't be if you stay here."
Cascade glanced at Aella, and then at the Peacekeeper who was charging towards them.
"Daphne," Cascade looked at the older Victor with fear. "Wh-where do I even go? They'll find me."
"You come with me."
Cascade gasped as a male voice answered her question. Farley Mir, the Victor from Two who reeked of arrogance and who had regularly taunted Cascade for the failure of her two tributes, stood in front of her, loitering in the doorway.
He held out a hand.
"It's now or never, princess."
With a final look at Aella, who nodded her head frantically at Cascade, she placed her hand into Farley's rough palm.
Feeling herself being swept out of the suite, Cascade tried not to look behind her as she fled the sounds of screams and gunshots. She kept her eyes forwards, entrusting her safety to the hands of the person she had least expected to offer it.
Together, they ran.
Muriel, Apprentice Gamemaker
Running was not an option.
As the Gamemakers swarmed around the Hub in a frenzied panic, pressing buttons and exchanging concerned looks, Muriel felt his eyes lingering on the Head Gamemaker's office.
Ivo had always been a private Head Gamemaker, often choosing to spend his days cooped up inside his quarters. He wandered the Hub frequently enough to maintain order and ensure that the Games were running smoothly, but he always appeared to have something else occupying his thoughts. Ivo had actually been in the centre of the Hub when the chaos had erupted. At the sight of Aurelia inside the arena, the Head Gamemaker had rushed off, leaving the Gamemakers in a state of confusion, not knowing what to do as the arena was shut down. Knowing that Ivo had been in love with the President, Muriel couldn't begin to imagine the emotions he was feeling.
As the Hub continued in its hysterical disarray, Muriel managed to slip from his station, rushing up the stairs towards Ivo's office. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door once, and then for a second time as his knuckles had barely grazed the door the first time.
There was no response.
"Mr Castellanos, Sir?" Muriel called through the door. The walls and door were made of glass, though Ivo frequently had them turned to their opaque setting to maintain the privacy he fought so hard to protect.
Still no response.
"Muriel?" he turned around to see another of the apprentices, a girl named Reyna. Fear filled her eyes as she looked at her colleague. "What do we do?"
Muriel wasn't sure what he could offer the girl other than some fairly obvious advice, but he supposed he ought to at least try to offer some words of use.
"Just return to your station and keep quiet," Muriel advised her. "Some people here must have been in on the plot –there's no way the President's body could have been placed in the arena without someone here creating an opening and keeping attention away from it. We don't know who we can trust."
Reyna nodded. She flashed a small smile to Muriel, the dimples in her dark cheeks prominent. "I trust you, Muriel. Thank you."
Muriel could only manage a small nod as Reyna made her way back to her station –lighting –and settled down on her seat, looking uncomfortably down at her lap where she began fiddling with the small ring around her finger.
I trust you, Muriel.
Muriel sighed to himself. If only she could.
Muriel didn't consider himself to be a bad person, he'd never had an evil thought in his life. He admitted that he'd always enjoyed the Hunger Games and had wished since he was a young child to be a part of the Gamemakers, which had led him into applying for the apprenticeship scheme last year. But it wasn't that he enjoyed the idea of murdering for entertainment; he was simply fascinated by the mechanics of the arenas and had an overactive imagination that needed to be fed. Muriel had performed well at school, been kind to his family and his peers, said please and thank you, and always bought his mother a bouquet of fresh flowers each Sunday. He was good.
And yet, Muriel had done bad things.
An informant for the corrupt politicians of the Capitol, Muriel had fed them information about Ivo Castellanos and about the Games. He had scouted out those Gamemakers who could be persuaded, either by bribery or threats, to do their bidding. He had even convinced the Head Gamemaker to pursue his romance with the President to ensure that the narrative flowed.
Despite all those secrets and lies, Muriel didn't consider himself to be a bad person. He was simply a pawn in a game he would never be allowed to play.
There were no prizes to be won, not for Muriel. The greatest he could achieve in his exploits was the life of his sister. If he did as he was told, no harm would come to his loving Celeste. And so, Muriel did what he was told.
He hadn't known that his actions were assisting an assassination plot, however. Muriel had been led to believe that a legitimate challenge would be made against the President's rule; a vote of no confidence, as it were. He had been puzzled when they had mentioned the arena, though Muriel had known better than to question their methods. But now, he cursed himself for his naivety.
Muriel wanted to run; he wanted to escape the Hub, escape the mess he had been a part of and hide from his guilt. But he couldn't. Even if he managed to run, there was nowhere he could hide. They would find him, they always did.
Accepting that he would receive no response from Ivo, Muriel backed away from the door, turning back to face the rest of the Hub. His dark eyes scanned the room; he could pick out the faces of those who had corrupted themselves, sat anonymously between those who were oblivious in their innocence. The compromised Gamemakers blended in well; they had no choice but to do so. Even in the Capitol; the self-proclaimed 'free' city of Panem, no one had a choice.
Then, the moment Muriel had been waiting for finally arrived.
The doors of the Hub slid open and a small army of Peacekeepers swarmed in. Muriel stood at the side of the room, watching as the armoured men filled the room, surrounding each Gamemaker, their guns poised and awaiting command.
Attention shifted to their commander.
Large and dressed in a fashionable purple suit, Mr Fabian made his presence known. A shiver passed down Muriel's spine as he stared at the man who had threatened his sister's life on more than a handful of occasions. The detestable minister was thriving off the power he had forcefully claimed; a smug grin on his plump face and his arms folded neatly in front of his oversized stomach where one of the buttons looked fit to pop off.
He looked around, addressing the Hub. "There has been a breach in this very room. I intend to find the culprits behind this act of treason in both the name of our dearly departed President, and in the name of Panem and the justice it deserves."
Mr Fabian nodded. In unison, each Peacekeeper holstered their weapon, reaching for handcuffs instead which they then began to place around the wrists of every Gamemaker in the Hub –including Muriel.
Muriel flinched as the cold cuffs clicked around his wrists. He said nothing as he stood beside a Peacekeeper, watching as Mr Fabian walked further into the room.
"Place yourselves into lines, in accordance with your rankings," he ordered, snapping his fingers. "You will individually be questioned –until you have been cleared, you will not leave this room. Do I make myself clear?"
There was a wave of nodding heads.
Something moved to the side of Muriel; he stifled a gasp as the doors to the Head Gamemaker's office slid open and Ivo Castellanos emerged.
His face was expressionless as he walked out of his room and into the centre of the Hub. He had taken off his blazer and his shirtsleeves were rolled up messily to his elbows. He stank of whiskey and smoke as he passed by Muriel.
"Mr Castellanos," Mr Fabian greeted him with a smirk. "How nice of you to join us."
Ivo narrowed his eyes at the minister. "Get out of my Hub, Fabian."
"I'm afraid I can't do that without taking what I came here for," he replied.
"And what did you come for?" Ivo asked bitterly.
"You, of course," said Mr Fabian with dark satisfaction. "Ivo Castellanos, you are under arrest for the murder of President Aurelia Snow."
At once two Peacekeepers turned to take hold of the Head Gamemaker.
"Don't you dare fucking touch me!" Ivo yelled, swinging a punch towards one of the armoured men. There was a harsh crack as his knuckles collided with the helmet of the Peacekeeper.
In a struggle, the Peacekeepers managed to restrain Ivo, pulling his arms harshly behind his back where they secured his wrists with cuffs. Red flushed Ivo's neck and cheeks as he spat at the feet of Mr Fabian, who simply laughed and gestured for the Peacekeepers to take Ivo out of the Hub.
Muriel watched, still frozen to the spot, as Ivo was escorted out of the room. As the large doors slid shut behind them, Mr Fabian looked to the rest of the Gamemakers.
"I have some further matters to attend to," he informed them. "In the meantime, you will each be taken in for questioning by my associates. I advise you all to be honest from the start –the truth has a funny little way of making itself known in the end."
Muriel swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat.
With a small wave of his hand, Mr Fabian then promptly exited the Hub, with a handful of Peacekeepers surrounding him like a protective bubble.
The remaining Peacekeepers then began shuffling Gamemakers around the room, placing them into groups according to their rankings. The Peacekeeper who had cuffed Muriel appeared to be their superior as he removed his helmet and began barking orders.
He pointed at Muriel.
"You first."
Muriel was guided into the Head Gamemaker's room, which he assumed was intended to be used as the interrogation room. Two further Peacekeepers entered the room behind him, shuffling furniture around the room so that the desk was positioned in the centre, with a chair on either side.
Muriel took the seat that was held out for him as the higher ranking Peacekeeper sat in the chair opposite.
"I believe you are Muriel, yes?" asked the Peacekeeper, slouching back on his chair and lifting a foot to rest on the table. He kicked away a glass of whiskey that was half full with lip marks staining the rim.
Muriel nodded.
"Congratulations, Muriel," said the Peacekeeper with a patronising tone. "Not only have you saved your sister, but you have also saved Panem."
Muriel swallowed. "Th-thank you, Sir."
"That is all for now, Muriel. You have carried out your duties well," he said. "We will be in touch at a later time, but for now, enjoy your freedom and look forward to a better future."
Muriel nodded, rising from his seat. One of the other Peacekeepers approached him, removing his handcuffs.
"Thank you again, Sir," Muriel said, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he rubbed his wrists. He wanted to appear calm, but inside he was terrified.
"No, thank you, Muriel," the Peacekeeper responded with a smirk. "Do give your sister a squeeze from me."
With a gulp, Muriel nodded and hastily left the room as the door slid open for him. Avoiding eye contact with any of the other Gamemakers, he made his way across the Hub, slipping out of the large sliding doors.
He kept his head bowed as he made his way to the elevator, selecting the ground floor with trembling fingers. As he stepped out, hurrying across the lobby towards the dark streets outside, he could feel his eyes burning as tears pricked them.
The cool night air was blissful as Muriel stepped into the streets of the Capitol. He closed his eyes as he drank a few mouthfuls of fresh air, trying to steady his nerves.
Muriel knew he needed to get home. He hoped Celeste was there, but being the personal assistant to the President, she could have been caught up in anything.
No, Muriel reminded himself. Mr Fabian had promised that no harm would come to Celeste. She would be home, safe. She had to be.
Home was just a few blocks away. Muriel kept his eyes focused on the ground as he walked with a fast pace down the streets he knew better than the back of his own hand. Around him, he could hear the screams of Capitolites as they processed what they had seen on television, and demanded to know what had happened to the rest of the Games. Muriel hoped that no one would recognise his Gamemaking uniform as he slipped down the streets; luckily no one seemed to as he turned the final corner onto the block where his home was.
Muriel breathed a sigh of relief as he saw a dim light in Celeste's window –she must be home. His heart, filled with a little more hope than it had done before, fluttered as he hurried forwards. He knew his sister would be devastated about the President's death; she had been so fond of her. As had Muriel been, and he was certain that a large proportion of the Districts felt the same way. Yet whilst Muriel knew that he had played a part in the kind President's assassination, he knew he would do everything again over and over.
Between the life of Aurelia Snow and the life of his sister, Celeste would always come first.
As Muriel reached the door to their home, reaching his finger out to the scanner to unlock it, he heard a shuffle behind him.
Muriel couldn't turn around in time before something was pulled over his head and the world went dark around him.
Ivo Castellanos, Head Gamemaker
It was too bright.
The smooth white walls of the small square room Ivo found himself in were blinding. He was used to white; the Gamemaker uniform was white, as was the armour worn by the Peacekeepers. Yet in that moment, having nothing to look at other than the blank cage he was trapped inside was torturous. He could close his eyes, but each time he did he saw nothing but Aurelia. She was consuming him, even after her death.
Aurelia was dead.
Ivo still couldn't process that reality. He was no stranger to death; he had seen countless dead bodies before, and had taken more lives than he cared to admit, though this was the second time in the ocean of blood he swam through every day that he felt as though he was drowning.
Aurelia was everywhere. He could see her beautiful face in his mind; he could hear her soft voice whispering sweet nothings in his ear; he could feel the gentle touch of her warm skin against his and could taste her sweetness like roses and summer berries. And yet, she was nowhere.
How could he have let this happen?
Ivo pressed his forehead against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. His fists were formed tightly, one resting upon the wall beside his head, the other down by his side. He threw one of his fists into the wall hard, swearing as he felt his knuckles split –it now matched the other hand that was bruised from hitting the Peacekeeper during his arrest.
In the end, humanity will always resort to violence.
It was something that had always stuck with Ivo; something that his father had told him as a boy and something he realised was true the older he became. Ivo had lived his life around violence, having started training for the Games as a young boy only to be rejected by the academy and directed towards the army instead. Rising through the ranks, Ivo received praise and reward as his hands became bloodier and bloodier. Accepting the job as the Head of the Rebel Division, Ivo had thought that an office-based role would have placed a safe distance between himself and the violent man he had been, though he found that working on the ground wasn't the problem: he was the problem. That had then driven him to the open role of Head Gamemaker; knowing he couldn't escape his violent tendencies, Ivo attempted to funnel them into something less harmful, or at least something he saw as less harmful. But as always, death followed him and this time the victim had been Aurelia Snow.
Ivo cursed himself for allowing himself to get close to her. He knew that he would only bring her suffering, and yet he fell prey to his desires again. He had already torn apart Cascade's happiness; what had made him think that things with Aurelia would be any different?
He was a fool who had realised the truth too late.
The sound of sliding bolts caught Ivo's attention and he turned around sharply, looking to see a Peacekeeper entering with a jug of water and an empty glass.
"How long am I going to be kept in here for?" he demanded, walking briskly over to the Peacekeeper, who placed the jug and the glass on the shelf to the side of the door before quickly reaching for their baton.
"I'm just bringing you some water, Mr Castellanos," the Peacekeeper replied simply. "You will be dealt with in due course."
"Dealt with?" Ivo raised his voice. "Due course?!"
"That is all I can tell you, Sir," spoke the Peacekeeper, retreating back through the door and hastily shutting it behind him.
Slamming his fists onto the door, which was entirely opaque so Ivo had no idea what was going on outside the four walls, Ivo bellowed for someone to release him. No one came.
In a fit of rage and frustration, Ivo flung his arm out, sending the jug and the glass both skidding off the edge of the shelf where they shattered spectacularly on the floor. Water from the jug immediately spread across the smooth surface of the tiled floors, creating a puddle at Ivo's feet.
As Ivo stared down at the mess in front of him, he caught his reflection in one of the shards of broken glass.
He saw the face of the man he had so desperately tried to run from.
Sinking to his knees, Ivo cried out as he felt an overwhelming downpour of emotions drench him. He was not usually a man of emotion; he tended to keep the worries of the heart and mind kept hidden away. What use was crying when a few tears couldn't change reality?
Ivo hadn't even shed a tear over his brother. It would have been wrong to do so when he had been the cause of Ander's death. Though in the stream of tears that fell from his eyes as he sat, helpless in his white cage, Ivo knew that at least a single tear belonged to the memory of his brother.
Ander had been the better of Vasil Castellanos' sons, and though he wanted to, Ivo could never hate him for it. He didn't deserve to be torn to shreds by the storm of bullets Ivo had instructed to rain down on the building he was inside. Ivo of course hadn't known that his little brother was still within the abandoned warehouse until he stepped over his punctured body.
Like his brother, Aurelia hadn't deserved her death either. She had been the better part of Panem, and now Panem was worse without her.
Dammit. He should never have left her that morning. They had spent the night together, watching the stars and sharing their hopes for the future. When the sun had risen, Ivo had returned to the Hub to oversee the finale of the Games. He had invited Aurelia to join him, but she hadn't wanted to be seen publically with him so soon for the sake of Cascade's heartbreak. Ivo had respected her reasoning and left, hoping to steal a kiss or two when the finale was over. A kiss he never claimed.
Ivo circled endless what ifs in his mind, conjuring up all the ways he could have kept her alive, although he knew they were simply thoughts, and none of them could become a tangible reality.
As he fell further into his own thoughts, creeping ever closer to madness, the door suddenly opened.
"Ivo Castellanos," the pompous sound of Fabian's voice bounced from wall to wall, echoing in Ivo's ears. "How I have longed to see this day."
It took all of Ivo's strength not to rush over to try to strangle the air out of the minister's lungs, though he suspected he wouldn't get far as two stocky Peacekeepers stood either side of the rounded man, their batons crackling with electrical energy.
"You killed her," Ivo snarled at Fabian, rage tickling the tip of his tongue.
Fabian opened his mouth in false surprise. "I killed her? What a completely unjustified accusation."
Ivo's eyes followed Fabian as he paced around the room.
"I won't lie and say that I'm upset about Aurelia's death," said Fabian frankly. "Her visions for Panem were…dangerous, to say the least. It was only a matter of time before someone did what needed to be done."
What needed to be done. Ivo sucked in a long breath.
"She didn't deserve to be killed for wanting to help the Districts," said Ivo, pain seizing at his heart as he remembered her words to him as they lay beside the rock pool.
"It's a delicate system, Mr Castellanos," Fabian told him. "I suppose you wouldn't understand the politics behind it. You are just a soldier; you only know how to kill people, not how to rule them."
"And you do?"
"I do, as a matter of fact," replied the minister. "As a senior ranking minister of the inner circle, I have been voted in by the other ministers to act as temporary President in this state of emergency. It is my priority as acting President to ensure that justice is served for those involved in treason."
"Then we'd better swap places, you treacherous bastard," Ivo spat, causing the two Peacekeepers to step towards him before Fabian told them to hold back.
"The only treason I have committed is not rescuing Panem from the poisonous ideas of Aurelia Snow sooner," Fabian spoke bitterly. "That bitch could have brought Panem to its knees if she hadn't been stopped."
Ivo's fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms.
"Don't you dare speak about Aurelia like that," he threatened, his body shaking with anger.
Fabian laughed. "Or you'll do what, Mr Castellanos? If I do so rightly point out –it is you who is the one in the cage."
"Not for long," Ivo warned.
Fabian shook his head, smirking as he headed towards the door. "Oh, Mr Castellanos, by the time you leave this cell you will be walking towards your own execution."
Ivo said nothing.
"Now, I bid you goodnight, Mr Castellanos," said Fabian, pausing in the narrow doorway that he could barely fit his wide body between. "I have a public appearance to get to. But I am sure our paths will cross again very soon."
The door shut behind the minister, once again locking Ivo inside.
After an immeasurable amount of time screaming and slamming his bruised fists into the wall, Ivo eventually sank back down to the floor, leaning his head against the wall in defeat. As his eyelids fluttered shut, the sound of the Capitol anthem drew them back open again as he stared at the opposite wall, which had become a screen.
The Capitol symbol filled the wall as the anthem played, with a more sombre tone to it than the usual uplifting patriotic feel. As the music drew to its end, the screen changed to show Caesar Flickerman, holding a gold embroidered handkerchief to the corner of his eye.
"People of Panem, it is with great sorrow that I can confirm that our dearly beloved President Aurelia Snow is dead," he spoke with excellent conviction to the point where even Ivo was almost convinced of his act. "We turn now to Mr Fabian, the Minister for Trade, who has some further information to share with us all on this truly devastating night."
On cue, the screen then focused on Fabian, who was stood on the infamous balcony of the Presidential Palace where Aurelia had once captured the hearts of Panem, including Ivo's.
He felt his gut tighten as he tried to brush away the memory of watching her speech with Cascade tucked neatly against him.
"Panem, I address you now with a heavy heart," started Fabian. "What you witnessed in the Games tonight was an act of terror, committed by cowards who worked in the shadows to tear down the hopeful future our beloved President had dreamt of."
Ivo gritted his teeth as he listened to the lies that left the minister's mouth.
"These cowards, we believe, were led by Ivo Castellanos, whom you may know as the Head Gamemaker for this year's Games," an image of Ivo displayed behind Fabian. Ivo's fists clenched together harder. "It has come to our attention that Mr Castellanos was having an illicit affair with President Snow as a way to gain her trust before he arranged for her most brutal murder."
Ivo's heart shuddered as a photograph of his and Aurelia's first kiss the night of the party they had run away from filled the screen.
"We believe that Mr Castellanos' partner, Cascade Nepeta, the Victor of last year's Games, was also involved," said Fabian. "As of this moment we have Mr Castellanos held in custody, though we are yet to locate Miss Nepeta after she fled guiltily from the mentor suite in the central Games building. Arrests of her assumed associates, Aella Castro and Daphne LeFay, have also been made, and there is a further warrant for the arrest of Farley Mir, who was seen fleeing with Miss Nepeta."
Images of each of the four Victor's victory posters replaced the photograph of the kiss.
"Peacekeepers have been deployed to bring them in, though we ask each of you to report any sightings, or potential sightings, of these fugitives to the authorities immediately. Any significant information shall of course be rewarded appropriately."
Cascade.
Relief passed through Ivo knowing that she was free, but that relief was soon replaced with a growing concern for how likely things would remain that way. Despite all that had happened, Ivo still loved Cascade, and with her carrying his unborn child, her safety was even more of a priority. He hoped and prayed to whatever fucking God existed, if any, that Farley Mir could be trusted. If not, Ivo would kill the lad himself.
"I am sure you all have many questions, which will be answered in due course," Fabian continued speaking. "As elected acting President, I shall endeavour to maintain transparency in our pursuit of justice. In the meantime, I also assume that many of you will be wondering about the conclusion of this year's Hunger Games. I am pleased to inform you that after the broadcasting of the arena ended, the final kill was made, and it is with honour that I present to you Risa Delmare of District Four, the Victor of the Eighty-Sixth Hunger Games!"
The Capitol anthem struck up again as the camera turned to focus on Risa, who walked out onto the balcony to join Fabian. There was a smile on her naturally beautiful face as she allowed Fabian to plant a kiss on the back of her gloved hand. It was a smile Ivo had seen before; the smile of someone who couldn't show the world what she was really experiencing.
Risa Delmare was as much in a cage as Ivo was, only her bars were crafted of gold and Ivo's of iron.
Ivo wasn't sure which was worse.
A/N
Well that didn't really tie up loose ends, did it? Whilst many epilogues aim to tidy plotlines up, this chapter was mainly about setting up some matters which MoS will delve further into.
Chaos erupted in the mentor suite, which saw the death of the district One escort, Queenie, as well as the Capitol mentor for district Twelve, Eudora Delambre. Further casualties may have occured, which will be revealed in time, though we know from Ivo's POV that Aella and Daphne are being held in custody (if we trust the words of Fabian, that is). Cascade found an unexpected ally in Farley Mir -do you think she can trust him? And where will she go to now? What is next for last year's Victor?
Muriel was a brand new POV, with his character popping up more and more prominently throughout the story. He is a lot less innocent than he appears, but he believes himself to still be a good person. Having done all he has done to save his sister, do you think he is guilty? Fabian may not be finished with him yet and as he almost reached home, someone took him -any thoughts on who was behind that? And what will happen to Muriel now, and to Celeste, wherever she may be?
We had a bit more backstory for Ivo here; finding out about his violent past, including the death of his younger brother, Ander. Ivo is convinced that he is the problem and that violence is part of his inescapable nature -do you think this is true, or do you see redemption in him? The death of Aurelia has hit him hard -will her memory help him to a better path, or will he fall prey to his demons forever? And with him in prison, being framed for Aurelia's murder, what does the future have in store for Ivo? Will he be convicted? Will Fabian continue to rule Panem, or who may take his place?
The fate of Panem seems very much in turmoil at the moment, and we have one final chapter left. This final chapter will end our story with an insight into aftermath of the Games for our Victor, Risa, and for our survivor, Scout. What will become of these two?
We are getting closer and closer to Mask of Shadows and I am getting increasingly excited. After the final chapter I will release the final question of the tribute form for submissions, and then submissions for tributes will be open! I have also started preparing a new blog for MoS, which will have some further information setting the scene for the sequel, which I hope to have up in the coming weeks! If you have any questions, feel free to message me!
Thank you everyone for your incredible support, last week's finale was INSANE. I loved hearing your thoughts (some of which were live, which was just so much fun) and I am so overwhelmed by all the positive feedback I received. I wasn't sure what you would all make of the finale so it means the absolute world to me that you all enjoyed it so much. I would love to hear your final thoughts on these two post-games chapters, as things aren't over just because the Games are!
As a final note, this update coincides with another incredible update by my dearest friend, My-Mental-Mind! He is into the pre-games Capitol chapters of Borrowed Time, and if you haven't already, I would highly recommend checking it out! He has such a big brain!
Until next time!
~Firefly