The Reaping for the Fourth Annual Hunger Games will forever go down as an oddity.

On the orders of President Marrow, the reaping was help as normal. The Games, however, were postponed a year with little information shared to the public. The only reason given was 'reformation.' On that ominous note, Junius Prince, 16, was reaped to be the next year's District Two male. The dark boy stepped up to the stage, deep brown eyes boring out into the crowd as he fought to hide any sign of fear from his face. His little sister, Thea, cried from the side of his parents, who were both stony faced as they watched their son's death sentence take place. Many would give up in this situation. Resolve themselves to their fate. Spend their last year alive with their family. Their friends. Experiment with life, have some fun before it all came to an abrupt halt.

Junius Prince was not among this majority.

At 5'8 and just over 135 pounds, Junius wasn't built for the arena. And that fact was completely apparent to him, which is why he sought out Marcus Hunt, victor of the 2nd Annual Hunger games. Now 20 years old, the second victor was quickly growing displeased. Despite all the tears and the promises, not one of the slum rats he'd brought to his new home above the Ridge - Two's largest populated area - had proven promising yet. Junius didn't look all that interesting either - small stature, no muscle and loose dreadlocks hanging limply over his face. But alas, he was a guaranteed tribute with a free year. Marcus couldn't quite turn the offer away.

...

Fuck, they really outdid themselves.

Junius rose into the arena. An actual arena, damnit. It wasn't a gladiatorial coliseum at all. It was a fucking pine forest, and there were no other tributes in sight. He was fuming in anger, a drone camera zooming in on his face. Throughout the pregames process, two pictures were repeatedly compared.

The solemn gaze of a defeated teenager when he'd been reaped...

And the 6'2 mountain of muscle that had stepped up when the tributes were collected.

Fans demanded to know how this had happened. The Capitol public craved an answer. They begged the Council of Entertainment - or as they were more colloquially known, the Game Makers - to interview the boy. The head of the council claimed it wouldn't be fair to interview just one tribute. So, they'd interview them all. Capitol film star Rhea Vance was quick to assume the position, much to the public's pleasure. And it was in this interview that Junius had detailed his training. The grueling regiment that Marcus had put him through to get him ready for the fight of his life.

The fight that was beginning right now. Fuck.

Snapping back to reality, Junius realized the countdown had long ended. The massive male from Two cursed at himself. He could have been dead, right then and there. Leaping from his podium onto the soft, springy floor of dirt and moss, he began his search.

He didn't have to look far, as he stumbled across the boy from Ten inexpertly wielding a bastard sword with both hands. Junius sighed. He dwarfed the boy in terms of size, and yet that didn't stop the other tribute from charging when they locked eyes. Twenty feet, then ten, and then the boy from Ten was on the ground, his chest and ribs caving into his heart thanks to one of Junius's massive fists.

The male from Two stared down at his opponent. It hadn't been pretty, but it had been quick. Now, in death, the boy from Ten's features seemed different. The once hardened brown eyes now staring endlessly. The sneering mouth an expression of vague surprise. It hit Junius that this boy was likely no older than 15, and despite his intentions he let out a guttural cry, cleaving his sword into a nearby pine tree.

This moment of weakness was quickly quelled. Junius closed his opponents eyes, whispered a prayer, and moved on with his sword in tow.

Despite the illusion, the arena this year was actually quite small. Only about double the size of the arena for the first three games. Capitol bettors had seen Junius's display of strength. He was a favorite. Which is why they were so surprised when the 14 year old from Eight nearly ends his games early.

As he's walking, Junius hears a noise. It could have been a mouse, and he originally dismissed it as such. Until... no, that wasn't right. Head Gamemaker Braccio had explicitly stated that there would be no animals until the Fifth. Whirling around, Junius saw the little girl from Eight with a knife in her hand. Letting out a shriek of rage, the youth lunged at the much larger Junius. Unprepared, the male from Two managed to dodge the death blow, the knife catching him in the shoulder instead. With a quick step forward and a flex of the arm, the girl fell dead at Junius's feet. He was now bleeding from the shoulder. Ripping the knife out and gritting his teeth, the boy took his uniform shirt off - earning some crude comments about taking off more clothes back in the Capitol - and tied it in a tourniquet around his shoulder.

From there, he sat and nursed the wound. Two kills were more than enough for Junius, and he was content to let the others do the rest. He'd be saving his energy for the final showdown.

This year, it was the boy from Seven who'd made it. Almost as big and as muscled as Junius himself, the lumber male had the good fortune of finding a battleaxe. The rest had been history, the muscled youth from Seven wielding the weapon like an extension of his body.

"Damn. Couldn't have sent me anybody easier for the final battle? Just had to be you, huh big Two?" The blonde male from Seven quipped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Sorry about that, Seven." Despite himself, Junius broke into a grin. "Had to be this way. I've got people I need to make it home to."

"Same here. Which is why I want to apologize. For what I'm going to have to do here. You got a name, Two?"

"Junius."

"Damn. Tough name. I'm Rowan. It was nice to meet you, Junius. Feel like in another life, we could have been weight lifting mates. Hit the tavern, picked up some girls. Whaddya say we ditch the arena and head out on the town, huh?"

Junius shook his head, a deep laugh emanating from the tribute. "That we could have. To what could have been." Junius raised his sword in a mock toast, and Rowan did the same with his battleaxe.

The battle was unlike anything the Capitol had ever seen. It wasn't one fight decided in moments like the First. It wasn't Marcus all over again, butchering helpless children without a second thought. And it certainly wasn't like the Third in any way. They were experienced. They were big. They each gave it their all, and more than anything...

These tributes held respect for eachother. They were more than just numbers or kill tallies. Junius Prince and Rowan Alderrman could have been friends.

Which is why when Rowan's battleaxe finally shatters under a blow from Junius's massive sword, it isn't Rowan who gives the cry of grief.

It isn't Rowan sobbing as his weapon cuts down the boy who could have been something to him. Sheens of sweat reflecting off of his dark skin, Junius falls to his knees as Rowan falls back, a small sigh of surprise escaping the lumber boy's mouth.

"Damn..." Rowan coughs, blood spurting from his mouth as Junius kneels above him. "Got me.. good. Fitting. Died... to... wooden handle.. breaking. Stupid... fucking.. trees." Rowan laughs once more, and then closes his eyes. Junius is so, so close to screaming out in pain yet again, but he can't even muster the emotion at this point.

As Junius Prince is announced the victor of the Fourth Annual Hunger Games, he solemnly picks up Rowan's body. Whoever comes to collect him will have to take the both of them, and he'll make damn sure that Rowan Alderrman is treated like a hero.

Despite all his training, Junius hadn't changed anything besides his physical appearance. As he was airlifted out of the arena, his face looked just the same as it had a year ago on Reaping Day.


Okay... so it was KIND OF an in arena POV. I wanted to start building some traditions up like interviews and mutts, but I had promised that this would be an in arena POV. So... you get some unholy combination of the Two. If you liked this chapter or any previous, feel free to leave a review! All constructive criticism is very much welcome and I'm always looking to improve my writing. Until next time!