Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
CHAPTER WARNING: Swearing
The day of the Reaping for the Ninety Third Hunger Games.
'The Capitol needs workers,' screamed the billboards. 'Do your duty.'
Pah.
All the Capitol did was demand and demand and demand.
Ilenia shifted her weight from foot to foot and glared at the Capitol workers sat in front of the Town Square, registering teenagers for the reaping. Was this their only job, she wondered? Registering teenagers so they could send them to their death? Or did they go back to the Capitol and do something useful there? They were always screaming about how they needed workers; it was why she had taken up a job at the toystore before she was forced onto the workroll and shoved into working aboard one of the smaller fishing boats or the many small processing factories along the sea edge like most kids her age.
Andoni tugged at her sleeve. "Ilenia?"
"Hm?"
"I'm scared."
He had turned twelve earlier this year, and this was his first reaping. Ilenia tried to remember her own first reaping, but she had been too angry and grieving to be angry back then. Of course, she was still angry and still felt the loss; she was just better at dealing with it these days. She found his hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's fine."
Twenty five years ago, they'd have had nothing to fear. Back then, Four had regularly produced strong Career tributes and had a steady string of Victors.
Then the first small rebellion had started, sabotage to one of the main processing factories. At least no one died in that attempt.
But that rebellion had morphed into one that destroyed several factories, and once it was put down, another one that involved several hundred people trying to vacate the District began. When that one had half-failed, half-succeeded, another had arisen. The rebels never seemed to understand that they were always beaten and the punishment for it was execution.
"Do you know if there's a Volunteer for the boys?"
Ilenia didn't. She was fairly sure there wasn't one for the girls; their top trainee had dropped out several weeks ago. But of course the named tribute was never under any pressure to Volunteer anyway, just given priority, and sometimes kids they simply went for it.
Ilenia wasn't sure why anyone would. The Hunger Games were just one more way the Capitol established and showed off their power and authority. Sure, sometimes kids came back, but they came back with wealth and positions given to them by the Capitol.
"I'm not sure."
Andoni slipped a finger into his mouth to chew. Ilenia smacked it away. "Don't do that."
He tucked his hands under his armpits instead, fidgeting next to her.
At last they were at the front of the line. Ilenia held out her ID and nudged him to do the same. "They'll need to prick your finger and scan your hand too. I'll meet you on the other side."
He nodded wordlessly and followed her lead. She stepped through into the Town Square and waited until he was through, stuffing his ID card back into his jacket. The Square was stuffed with teens, swirling and pushing their way past each other to their own corals. It wasn't big enough for the entire population of their sector, so those not within reaping age would be watching on the big screen outside or the temporary viewing screens set up in the main street. The reaping was mandatory viewing for anyone outside the seriously ill or dying. It would be a good time, Ilenia suddenly thought, for a rebel to make a demonstration. The entire District and the Capitol was watching.
She found Andoni's wrist and held it tight.
She took him up front, to the corral for the twelves, and pushed him under the barricade. "I'll meet you up by the fountain afterwards, okay?"
He nodded nervously.
"Don't worry. It's going to be fine."
Four still had regular volunteers after all, and Andoni was only twelve.
She doubled back to find the corral for the fifteens and ducked under the rope barricade. There were a few girls from her class here already and a handful of others she recognised from the Academy. Ilenia curled her fingers into fists. They were Games fanatics, those girls, Capitol fangirls, in love with the idea of becoming a Victor so they could be handed wealth and status like a good little puppy dog.
At last, teenagers stopped filtering into the Square. Two large, temporarily erected screens either side of the stage displayed the other two District squares and the teenagers gathered there.
Their escort, Luperca St. James stalked out onto stage. She was wearing some poofy blue atrocity, too tight around her ample bosom and puffing out at the waist into a half-lace, half-netting thing. Her face was painted up with silver and blue glitter, which Ilenia presumed was some attempt to make it sparkle like the sea.
"Hello District Four! What a lovely day it is here! It's so good to see you again!"
She was met by a mixture of cheering, stony faces, and boos and jeers, particularly from the screen on the left, the Third Sector. Several of the older, bolder teens even began to throw shit at the cameras and screen. What did they think they were demonstrating, Ilenia wondered? Ways to get yourself killed? The Peacekeepers there fired several shots into the air and more blanks into the crowd. Ilenia wondered how many innocents they hit and injured. Bastards, all of them.
"I'm Luperca St. James, all the way from the Capitol for the reaping for the Ninety Third Hunger Games!"
Ilenia rolled her eyes. Get on with it already.
"But before we can do that, our gracious leaders at the Capitol have sent a special video for you to watch! Isn't that exciting?"
Not really. It was the same video every year, fucking rebels fucking shit up, and then the Hunger Games being established to scare everyone into submission. Bastards, all of them.
"Here we are!"
Luperca scurried off to the side of the stage as the video began to play on the three screens, voiceover booming from the speakers around them. Ilenia narrowed her eyes at the destruction and devastation. What was the Capitol doing in all of this, she wondered? They were meant to be protecting them!
Bastards, all of them.
At last the video was over and Luperca trotted back onto stage. "Wasn't that exciting boys and girls?"
Fuck's sake.
How old did she think they were?
"Now, shall we see who will have the honour of representing District Four in the Ninety Third annual Hunger Games?"
There was a scattered round of applause, and one boy somewhere behind her shouted 'let's do this!'
"We'll start with the boys for this year shall we?"
The boys.
Andoni.
Ilenia couldn't see him in the crowd, but she knew he was there. Her heart thump-thump-thumped in her chest.
He was only twelve.
They weren't the best off in the District, but they weren't as dirt poor as some. They had never needed to sign up for tesserae. He had one slip in that bowl; she had four.
Luperca stalked over to the bowl for the boys and plunged her hand into the slips, swirling it around tauntingly.
Ilenia nudged one of the girls she recognised from the Academy. "Are there chosen Volunteers this year?"
The girl shrugged. "Not for the girls. Want to give it a try?"
Ilenia scowled. She would fuck things up in the Games if she entered. Why should she play their games by their rules?
At last Luperca pulled out a slip, walking back to the microphone before unfolding it. "District Four, your male tribute for the Ninety Third Hunger Games is Andoni Costello!"
No.
No.
No.
Not Andoni.
Not him.
Not him too.
She saw him duck out under the barricade, looking lost and confused.
No.
No.
No.
What did she do?
She couldn't volunteer: he was a boy and she was a girl. She could volunteer to go in with him - that happened sometimes and she could look after him - but she might still have to have him die in her arms and what did she do what did she do what did she do bastards all of them not him too not him too.
Did they have a volunteer?
She couldn't breathe; she couldn't hear.
What did she do?
Did they have a volunteer?
Did she volunteer for the girls when the time came? There wasn't a volunteer for the girls; she'd get the spot.
What did she do?
She pushed her way towards the aisle as though dreaming, reaching for the barricade and thinking twice about it as one of the Peacekeepers in the aisle raised his gun.
Andoni.
No.
No.
No.
There had only been one twelve year old Victor in all Ninety Two years.
"Here we are. Now then, do we have any Volunteers for Andoni's place?"
Did they have a volunteer?
One.
Two.
Three.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
Bastards, all of them.
She'd volunteer; she'd take care of him; she wouldn't let them take him too; not him too-
"I volunteer!"
Ilenia whirled and a tall, lanky boy appeared from the seventeens, raising his hand high. She recognised him, although she didn't know his name. She wished she did. Her knees shook. She wanted to collapse, but she had to stand strong.
The boy jogged over to the stage and up the steps, reaching out to clasp Andoni's arm and shake his hand before sending him off.
They had a volunteer.
They had a volunteer.
They had a volunteer.
He was safe.
He was safe.
He was safe.
She ducked out from under the barricade regardless of the Peacekeeper as Andoni came down the steps and held her arms out. He bolted over to her and she wrapped him up in her arms, burying her face in his hair.
They had a volunteer.
He was safe.
She wasn't losing him too.
Bastards, all of them.
Except Marcelo Starr, who was introducing himself on stage.
That boy was a hero.
Because of him, she wasn't losing Andoni.
She bit back her tears, sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes were stinging and burning, but she was not going to cry. Not here, not now.
On stage, Luperca was calling up the female tribute, one of the fifteen year olds from her own corral, tall and wiry. Ilenia missed her name and didn't really care anyway.
She had Andoni; thanks to Marcelo Starr those bastards weren't taking him away from her.
She wasn't losing him too.
There were no volunteers from the girls (she could have taken the slot, if she'd wanted to, if she'd needed to).
"District Four, your tributes for the Ninety Third Hunger Games! Marcelo Starr and Isla Cerulean!"
The two shook hands and another mixed round of applause and boos went round. One kid at the front lobbed something at Luperca and a Peacekeeper fired a blank round at him point blank. The two tributes were quickly led away into the Town Hall. Someone at the back of the Square shouted 'fuck the Capitol!' as the doors were closed.
Fuck the Capitol.
What had it ever done for them?
"Please leave the Square in an orderly fashion," dithered Mayor Franklin, having taken the microphone.
"Capitol-loving bastard!" shouted that same boy from the back of the square.
Another round was fired off.
Ilenia pulled Andoni along with her down the aisle, half afraid someone might suddenly charge forwards and snatch him away from her, that this might be a mistake, that he might still be sent into the Games-
And then they were out the Square and she was still pulling him forwards, onwards, away. She needed as much distance between them and the bastards as possible. Andoni stumbled and staggered, clutching at her arm to keep himself on his feet as she marched him onwards. Some boy from her class made some attempt to approach her, asking something irrelevant, but she only shook her head and kept moving. They needed to be away; they needed to be away.
"Ilenia?" Andoni asked, struggling to keep up. He was still shaking from the shock of the reaping, his knees trembling. "Ilenia, it's alright."
"It's not alright," she hissed out.
Nothing was alright.
Bastards, all of them.
"Can you at least slow down a little? I can't keep up."
She grunted, but she did slow down, keeping a tight grip on his wrist.
Nothing was alright.
They were going to take him too; they were going to drag him off to play their Games and be butchered in the Games-
It was only when they reached the Old Sea Road that she allowed herself to slow down and breathe. They were away enough; no one was going to take him; no one was going to hurt him.
One day, she was going to make those fuckers pay.
They sat up there, in their ivory towers, and demanded and demanded and demanded, and in return they were meant to be looking after them, but what did they actually do? Let rebellions start, and then shoot anyone and anything that moved.
Bastards, all of them.
She hesitated as they approached the bakery. Sugar was good for shock, or so they taught at the Academy. She tugged Andoni towards the door. "Here; what do you want?"
"I don't-"
He hated chocolate, so that was out. Strawberry then, or treacle, or a box of the sticky sugar buns. That would be good actually, because then they could share.
"Andoni, darling!" exclaimed Ms Harren, the baker's wife. "That was a narrow miss! Are you alright sweetheart?"
"I'm fine," Andoni replied.
Why was it that he was managing to keep it together and she wasn't? She wasn't even the one reaped!
"Oh, but just think! We could have had our very own little local Victor!"
Not likely.
There had only ever been one twelve year old Victor in all the previous ninety two Hunger Games, and there were some that argued even that had been a fluke.
"It's alright."
It wasn't alright.
"I'm happy for Marcelo. I hope he wins."
"Yeah," Ilenia ground out. "Me too."
Nothing was alright.
She jabbed a hand at the sweet sugar buns. "How 'bout these?"
"Sure!"
"We'll get ten."
While Ms Harren counted them out she fumbled for her coin purse, counting out five coins. Her job didn't pay much – most didn't – but she had a little, and a little more saved up. She could afford this. She slid them over the counter, and Ms Harren handed her the box.
"Now, off you go." She smiled down at Andoni. "Just think, in six years, that might be you volunteering up on stage!"
It better not be.
"Thanks," Ilenia muttered, pushing Andoni out the door ahead of her.
Once they were back on the street she pulled the box open and held it out to him. "Here."
"Are you sure?"
"Take as many as you want."
He took two and she took one, awkwardly holding the box against her as she munched on it. There were more Peacekeepers on the street than usual, she noticed, and instinctively reached out to draw Andoni a little closer. They said they were here to protect them but when did they actually do their job? There were even patrols going round the housing estates.
Their house was locked, and she handed the bun box to Andoni to fumble for her keys. He took another bun as he waited for her to slot the keys into the lock.
She could hear their father's voice when she swung the door open, which meant he was home. Why was the door locked then? Who was he talking to?
"Who's that?" Andoni asked through a mouthful of bun, putting the box down on the cluttered hallway table.
"Not sure."
The voices were coming from the sitting room, light creeping out under the door. Ilenia edged a little closer, listening in.
"-children."
"My children are better off without getting involved in this mess of yours."
"They've already lost their mother haven't they? And you came so close to losing your son."
It was the man from down the street, Ilenia figured, the big old guy.
"Don't you want to protect them from that?"
"I am protecting them from that. Please, Mr Tames, just leave."
Oh, was that his name? Ilenia made a note of it, so she knew who to watch and who to hate.
"Think about it Mr Costello. You don't want to lose any more of your family."
Anger burnt in her chest, so hot she wanted to scream. Her shoulders shook. Lose any more of your family, he said, as though it wasn't his fault her mother was dead in the first place!
"Leave, Mr Tames."
"If you like."
Ilenia seized Andoni's arm and shoved him behind her into the kitchen.
"Oof- hey!"
She'd nearly lost him once today; it wasn't going to happen again.
Not on her watch.
The sitting room door clicked open and Mr Tames stepped out. He gave them a half smile – all fake, pretended niceties – and reached for the front door. "Lucky escape you had there lad. Mebe you ought to think about making a stand to make sure it dain't happen again."
Ilenia narrowed her eyes and wondered how much the Peacekeepers would give her if she turned in his name.
Andoni held his chin high. "Please leave our house mister."
Mr Tames gave them another smile, opened the door, and vanished out onto the street.
Bastard.
Ilenia let out a breath, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Their father appeared in the sitting room doorway. "There's my babies! Oh, Andoni…"
"I'm fine. It's fine."
It wasn't fine.
Nothing was fine.
Their father pulled them into a tight hug. "I was so worried about you."
"Then maybe you shouldn't go round having tea parties with rebels!" Ilenia snapped, shoving him away. "They probably did it deliberately, reaped him, because you-"
Her voice shook.
She bit back tears.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"Ilenia-"
"Don't. Just- don't."
She turned and swept upstairs to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. It was only then that she let herself cry, collapsing onto her bed and drawing her arms up over her head. She screamed into her elbows. Her shoulders shook. She drew her knees up to her chest and curled her fingers into her dark hair.
It wasn't fair.
First mom, and now nearly Andoni.
Were they trying to take everything away from her?
Bastards, all of them.
Eventually the tears passed, and she rolled onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. Something clicked deep inside her. She could have taken that slot, if she'd wanted it. She could prove a point or two to those bastards. They were supposed to be protecting them, and what were they doing instead?
Her father called her down for supper a few hours later, after she had spent the past few hours running through workout routines from the Academy. They ate in an uncomfortable silence, watching the reaping recaps play on TV. They even showed a brief shot of the moment Andoni ran down the steps and into her arms, describing it as an 'emotional moment from District Four.' Ilenia shuddered looking at the older, stronger tributes Andoni would have been entering the arena with if it wasn't for Marcelo Starr. The pair from District One tossed their hair and giggled from the camera; the boy from Two flexed his muscles, grinning ominously. Capitol-loving Games fanatic. She hated him, she hated everything about him.
Andoni bumped her with his knee under the table. "You alright?"
"I'm not the one who should be asked that question."
It was him that had been reaped; him who would have been entering the arena with those older, stronger tributes – although she'd have taken the girl's place, in a heartbeat, and there wouldn't have been any competition.
But she had three years yet.
She was going to make those bastards pay.
They finished supper and began to wash their pots. She shot the occasional sideways glance at Andoni as he busied himself, still here where he belonged.
Those bastards were going to take him away.
He was only twelve!
She sent him off to shower first and get the first shot at hot water. Her father sighed. "Ilenia, can we talk?"
"About what?"
"Whatever this is. I don't know what's going on with you-"
"He would have been killed!"
"He's here; he's safe!"
"Would you have said yes? To Mr Tames?"
"You know I don't get involved in rebel activity."
"Then why do they keep coming asking? Why do you tell them things? Let them sit down for drinks?"
"It's more complicated than-"
"They killed her! And we could have lost Andoni too; did you never think about that?"
"Ilenia-!"
She couldn't do this.
She stormed upstairs and waited in her bedroom until Andoni was finished and she could shower. The hot water stung her face and she scrubbed her eyes until they stung. She roughly dried herself off and returned to her room to flop into her bed.
She had a little money saved up from her job, she could afford the Academy for a while.
She was going to make those bastards pay.
There was a knock at her door.
"Fuck off."
"Sorry," Andoni's whisper came.
"Oh, sorry. Thought you were dad. Come in."
He did so, closing the door behind him and taking the three steps across the room to climb into bed next to her. She wrapped her arm around his waist. "What you want?"
He shrugged. "You seemed… angry early."
"I was."
She still was.
"I'm sorry."
"Wasn't anything you did."
"Oh." He wrapped his fingers tight around hers and pressed himself closer to her. She rested her chin on his head and closed her eyes. They lay there like that until she felt him begin to relax. First mom, and now nearly him.
Bastards, all of them.
She was going to show those fucking bastards.
She was going to make them all pay.