Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
They ate lunch together again and talked strategy. As the strongest fighters, he, Luciente, and Azrayk intended to run for the cornucopia to collect supplies. The others would take what was around their podiums and run in the direction the tail end of the cornucopia was pointing.
On paper it was Shelley's plan. It was convenient that she wouldn't be one of the ones endangering herself, but often enough plans never made it past paper. One or more of them could die in the bloodbath. Hyperion worried for Luciente's precious Nathaniel, and Shelley wasn't a strong fighter either. They could be separated, or unable to get supplies, or-
"I think we should consider the cornucopia being in water," he said bluntly.
Shelley rolled her eyes. "What is it with you two and the water and the swimming?"
"I think we should consider it," he replied with a glance at Luciente. She'd never been wrong yet.
Azrayk shook his head with a grin. "What is this, some sort of 'it has been foretold' thing?"
Luciente frowned slightly. Hyperion kicked his chair back. "Your choice."
Luciente followed him from the canteen.
He could feel everyone watching their backs as they left.
They worked a circle around the Training Centre, watching the other tributes at their stations. Woodland- they could only hope for woodland, but if the arena was water – blood in the water, blood on her hands, in her mouth, trickling down her throat-
If the arena was in water-
And yet the water called to her.
She dreamt of it last night, deep, black depths, ice cold, and it pulled on something deep inside her, and she didn't know what it was, but it was important.
She held Hyperion's hand a little tighter.
The pair from Six were sat at the foraging station with the pair from Three, sorting berries into piles. Luciente leant over Arielle's shoulder, picking up a familiar bunch of red berries. "These are usually inedible."
"Oh. Thank you."
"The guide says they're edible if needs be," her District partner piped up. "And I think competing in the Hunger Games is needs be!"
Hyperion shrugged. "If you want to die while you're shitting your guts out, suit yourself kid."
The boy blanched and tossed the berries aside, sending them skittering away from the station. He wouldn't die of poison berries anyway. Few tributes did these days. He'd die of a blade through his chest.
"How are we ever meant to remember all this?" he whined. "All this fruit is so cool, but there's so much of it!"
Arielle sighed. "We do the best we can. Thank you Luciente."
Luciente gave her a bright smile and tugged Hyperion onwards.
The girl from Twelve was cursing and swearing at a tangle of wires that Luciente supposed was meant to resemble a snare trap, if snare traps resembled a knot of wires wrapped around the girl's hand. Her eye was mottling yellow – it had healed too fast, Capitol medicine.
"Fuck off," she snapped, glaring up at them.
They left her to it.
The girls from Three, Nine, and Eleven were at the insect identification station. Luciente had skimmed it over the day before; Hyperion hadn't bothered. Insects. Click click. Silk and stickiness. Click click. The girl from Nine gave them a funny look; the others were busy. Blood in the water.
They stayed late again, past most other tributes leaving, and again she found Ilenia at the sword station. She'd never be much good at swordfighting, she thought, but Ilenia would be good at being wild.
"Wasn't there anyone to volunteer for you?" Ilenia asked as they finished, unscrewing the cap of her water bottle. "I mean, I understand… him, but surely…"
Luciente smiled and finished her own water. "It was my time."
"Are you sure?" he asked that evening as they stood in the rooftop garden.
"Nothing is ever sure," she replied, light from the dying sun playing across her face.
"But you believe it? The arena will be something to do with water?"
"Blood in the water."
Blood on her hands, in her mouth, running down her throat; blood on white crested water.
"But that could mean anything!"
He was right of course. Nothing was ever sure. Nothing was ever certain. Blood in the water. Click click. Kaboom. But she knew, and he should have more trust in her knowing.
"You changed," she said. "While you were in there."
"I had to."
"I don't like it. Trust me."
"I do trust you. I just need to know that you're sure."
"I'm always sure," Luciente replied, and the light faded from her eyes as the sun vanished beneath the horizon.
