Author's Note: Back to District Two we go for a big event in their Quarter Quell preparations.

….

Selection

The four of them stood equidistant from the podium in order of their victory. Brutus at the leftmost edge with Remus to the very right. Petran started the audio recording from the opening of each Hunger Games, and they waited. The gong sounded and Brutus, Marcus, Malachite and Remus began the selection tests which would see one of them emerge as the volunteer for the Quarter Quell.

The first test simulated the run to the Cornucopia over the one-hundred-metre distance to what would be its innermost point. The sprint would be repeated three times and presided over by Petran as the most senior male victor. This was a formality, as many of the tests would be. Remus was the best sprinter and won each of the three races.

It was a strange victory; unlike the selection tests each had taken part in previously. Nobody was really sure if they wanted to win, and this was particularly true for the three younger victors. Brutus did not like the circumstances of the testing but had agreed this was the fairest possible approach which gave the four of them some agency and the outcome legitimacy.

Malachite narrowly won over Marcus in the traditional long-distance race and the climb to the top of the victors' mountain beyond the Village. The reverse happened in the standard fitness testing.

Brutus knew those were tests he would not win. But he did not need to. No matter his time to the Cornucopia or how fast he scaled the mountain, he would still be able to best the other three in the strength tests, hand-to-hand combat and with most weapons.

True to form, he proved himself by far the strongest of the four and found himself up against Malachite to win the hand-to-hand combat testing. He had taught Marcus and Remus so knew their tactics. They fought how Brutus told them to and they could not beat him at his own game. But Malachite had been Lyme's boy and so he fought more similarly to his own mentor and Brutus always enjoyed his most challenging fights against Lyme.

Still, Brutus won out and turned his attention to the weaponry testing which would be the real determiner. This was where Marcus would overtake his peers in Malachite and Remus. He was the all-rounder when it came to weaponry, being one of the best, if not the best that Brutus had ever mentored.

Marcus came to the Institute with an enviable skillset that the instructors and victors developed. He adapted what he knew and quickly learnt what he did not. Now he would compete directly with Brutus in terms of their skills.

But Marcus was Brutus' boy, his first victor, and Brutus remained his mentor. Mentoring is what Brutus did best. He always knew what his charges needed, when they needed to be pushed and when to hold back. He remained a source of guidance and support even long after the Games. Ultimately, Brutus knew that Marcus did not want to return to the arena.

It was not that Brutus wanted another go at the Hunger Games either. He wanted to do his duty, his best by his district, his home and its victors. He believed, as difficult as it would be, that he would be the best chance District Two had. They wanted to win a Quarter Quell after all.

So, when he fought Marcus, he fought. Marcus was faster but Brutus hit harder, swung harder, more so than he usually would when sparring with Marcus. But the stakes were higher, the nature of an all-victors arena demanded it. So, Brutus left Marcus flat on his back, pinned to the floor with a knife at his throat or clutching at his sides, gasping for breath more than may have been strictly necessary. He proved his point. Brutus would return to the arena. He would keep his own and Lyme's victors safe. He trusted himself to set his friendships with the other victors aside and to get the job done.

Petran and Cleo presided over the very final selection fights despite being sure of the outcome. Brutus would win, but they were impressed with the showing the others had put in. District Two still had strong, capable victors, fitting of the title and if the worst were to happen, the Institute would continue in safe hands.

They had abandoned the field tests traditionally carried out as part of selection. Even though Two was insulated from the events they were hearing of across Panem, it would not do to send Brutus and Marcus off into the mountains, near the borderlands, weapons in hand. Lyme had heard reports of trigger-happy peacekeepers and bandits roaming the borderlands and they needed to avoid disaster.

Besides, a field test would teach them nothing and would not prove a point. Both had already survived an arena, they could think on their feet and with knowledge of decades of Games as a victor, they would be resourceful. Mentoring required a study of the Games and Brutus knew all there was to know and was imparting his knowledge to Marcus. Neither would gain anything from fighting in the mountains and sleeping rough.

It was Brutus' superior knowledge that became the final straw. With Marcus physically defeated, he admitted to his mentor that Brutus would be the better volunteer. It was a strange moment. Marcus had lost a fight but one he did not want to win. But at the same time, he did not want Brutus to win either. He did not want to send his own mentor back into the arena.

Petran did not want to send his victor back either. Brutus was the pinnacle of District Two, and they could lose him. Whilst he would defeat most of the other victors in a fight, his opponents were still victors and neither they nor the arena could be underestimated.

….

The decision was painful for Cleo. Lyme and Enobaria were both her girls. Lyme was Cleo's first victor, her pride. Enobaria was her final chance, her final choice and a source of joy in her life as Cleo aged and sought after retirement.

In many ways, their selection mirrored Brutus'. The results were often predictable. Enobaria was faster and Lyme was stronger. However, their different fighting styles meant that combat was a more even match. Cleo had needed to set definitive rules with Enobaria prohibited from using her teeth as a weapon. They would discuss the teeth should she become the chosen volunteer.

They tested their accuracy with knives and spears. Enobaria proved superior with knife throwing whilst Lyme had always excelled with a spear. Enobaria came out on top with using knives in combat and it would come down to evenly matched fights with swords and a final weapon of choice.

Despite their shared connection with Cleo, Lyme and Enobaria did not share a close relationship. Lyme spent her days at the Institute with Brutus whilst Enobaria spent time with Cleo or feigning interest in one of the classes taken by the younger recruits. Lyme was a keen and dedicated mentor, Enobaria had had enough.

They goaded each other whilst fighting, mind games and tactics part of their process.

"Could you go back?" Lyme asked between blows.

"That's what we're deciding isn't it?" Enobaria replied.

"Back into the cold?"

"It won't be like that."

"How do you know that? It's a Quarter Quell. All victors."

"Well, if I won't handle it, why don't you go back?"

"We need to do what's best for Two. The winner returns. Shit prize for us, but it's what we need to do."

"You didn't say you'd go back, did you? If you think I can't handle it, why don't you just volunteer?"

"That's not how Two works and you know it."

"It's because you can't. You don't want to return," Enobaria snapped.

"That's not true and you know it."

"Brutus," Enobaria said.

"What about him?"

"You can't kill him. You couldn't do it."

"Could you?" Lyme asked.

"Avoiding the truth, Lyme?"

In reply, Lyme hit harder. Knocking Enobaria back and taking her by surprise. But true to form, Enobaria recovered and began to match Lyme's increased pace.

"You can't kill him. What would you do if it was the two of you in the finale?"

"We'd play it fair. Two rules. Set up the parameters, shake hands and let the best of us win."

"You don't believe that."

"I do. We fight all the time."

"But this would be final. No blunted weapons. No recruits to impress. One of you would kill the other. Could you look at him, Brutus, and kill him?"

"If it were what I had to do I would do it. If we were the final two, there would be no choice, for either of us."

"You'd only go for him at the end?"

"It would be a waste earlier. We work well together. No need to break the alliance. The Ones will be strong, Odair, the Twelves, may well need both of us."

"I could do it."

Lyme smirked, "Then volunteer."

"But I could. I'd sort it myself. Cashmere or Gloss shouldn't be a problem. I'm faster, more accurate. If it's Topaz, well she annoys me so all the more reason. Johanna, I'd enjoy it. The Twelve girl, bring it on. This is her fault."

"She's sixteen."

"Still her fault. Wouldn't be enough of us if it wasn't for her."

"Not her decision."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know. It's just not exactly her fault. But what about the others? Halley? Poppy? You like them."

"Halley would understand. And she'd blow me up if I didn't get to her first. Poppy, what is it you've said about people like her? The untrained ones with natural talent and nothing to lose. Only now, you've been training her!"

Lyme laughed, "You'd become an enemy."

"You would too," Enobaria retorted.

They fought each other. Mason, Malachite and Remus offered their sparring services so Lyme and Enobaria fought them too. Cleo presided over the whole event, remaining impartial and fair. It was already causing her pain and it was only going to get worse.

Ultimately, Enobaria won. She was that bit faster, more accurate with a knife and managed to best Lyme with a sword. She looked the better performer in close combat and against victors favouring long-range weapons, her ability to draw people in would be vital to District Two's chances.

It was a strange feeling for Lyme. She did not want to return to the arena. She did not want Enobaria back there either. The pain it would cause Cleo, their shared mentor, was a huge worry. Lyme had promised Cleo in private that whoever returned home, she would do all she could. Brutus was her closest friend, and she would know what he needed. But her friendship with Brutus did not mean Lyme did not want Enobaria to come home. She was conflicted.

But Lyme was torn in another direction too. She was District Two's sole rebel victor. The Quarter Quell had put her in a terrible position. Whilst she knew that at some point her loyalties would come into conflict and that she would have to choose a side, she did not think it could put her into such violent opposition to those whose side she was truly on.

It was better for the rebels that she would be able to remain outside of the arena but that did not mean she deliberately let Enobaria win the selection testing. That was not the District Two way. It was not the Institute way and would be the most dishonourable thing she could do to her fellow victors. So, she gave the testing her best and would deal with the consequences.

If she had ended up in the arena, Lyme had come to terms with what she would have to do. The rebel alliance would need an opposition, the Games would need a story, and rival alliances for however long they lasted. She would have pulled rank over Brutus to lead the career pack and kept them from the rebels as long as she could under the guise of drawing out the inevitable, anticipated confrontation.

But that was not to be. She would go to the Capitol to support Cleo and Petran in their mentoring and to keep pulling the wool over their eyes as to the actions of the rebel victors. She would offer her quiet support where possible and hopefully return to Two in one piece, ready to deal with the aftermath of the Games and bring rebellion home.

Hers was not an enviable position, but Enobaria's was worse. It would take Lyme all she had to keep her identity clear for a little while longer. She hated deceiving Cleo, but after the loss of Tiber, the older victor was simply not ready to hear Lyme out. Lyme would work with Enobaria as she prepared for the Games and hopefully plant a seed, the woman could be pushed. Her boys would do as she asked, and it would put them in conflict with their closest friends, but they were hers first and foremost.

For now, she would continue to be the lone rebel victor and juggle both sides of her identity. Two would be ready for the arena and keeping Enobaria and Brutus alive to whatever the end may be, was Lyme's hope for the Games. She would deal with the aftermath when it happened. Her colleagues across the districts were about to bring in open rebellion and she would have to open the door in Two. But so much would have to turn in her favour before she could reveal her allegiances. So, she would remain split, leading a double life and trying to balance all she could in the hope that she, nor two, nor the rebels would lose out.