Author's Note: A trip around the Victors' Villages across Panem as the Games draw closer.

….

Contemplation

Spring was turning into summer and the months before the Quarter Quell had turned into weeks. Weeks would become days and soon enough, they would be on the train to the Capitol for the Games that would change everything.

Not every victor was aware of just how much would change. In One, they were divided. Gem was trying to drop hints, Gloss and Cashmere were awaiting their end and Aria just wanted her life to be different, only not on the terms the Quell promised. She might lose Cashmere, her mentor, one of the few people tying her to the victors' life. Gem had told her to stay close, that she would do all she could to protect them both, but Aria was confused. She did not know why she would need protection when she was not going back to the arena. She knew there was talk about rebellion, but it was District One. She could not believe it would happen there quickly when no matter their troubles, the other districts had it worse.

Satin was bemoaning the talk of rebel groups and voicing her concerns with Gem who simply nodded along and answered appropriately. Satin had always been stuck in resentment. She wasn't one for questioning, so it was no surprise how much she didn't know about what was really happening in One. For her, the Quell was just an unusual twist. Cruel, even by her standards, but she had come to expect nothing less from the Capitol, and the Capitol would always win.

Topaz and Luxor were focused on mentoring. They believed (or were trying to make themselves believe) that it would be Gloss or Cashmere who would come home. They were loyalists, too focused on the Academy and the need for success to think about anything else. The Capitol were the providers, the steadying hand and the reason for One's riches. They were not about to upset that. But their loyalty did not mean they were crying out for another go at the Games. They would rather it be their charges than them. Gem couldn't stand the hypocrisy. But she carried on, focussed their energies on believing in the siblings and disguising the fact that neither would be coming home.

Augustus, Gem could not understand. Gus had been spending far too much time with Luxor that he had distanced himself from Gloss, his own mentor. He did everything the older man said. So, he never questioned, never doubted the Capitol, their strength and apparent love for him all whilst Gem felt sick about what was happening to her victors.

This was never the way it was supposed to be, and something had to give, something was going to give, and she was the only one prepared for it in her Victors' Village. Her victors were never supposed to be Capitol toys, playthings for the rich. They were the finest District One had to offer and should have been treated with respect and the glory they were promised. But Topaz and Luxor were too far gone, and a new expectation of the District One victor was created. Gem knew the pair did not have full control over their fates, but she could not help but resent them slightly. They were oblivious to the strain on Gloss and Cashmere and entirely indifferent to Aria's suffering. Gem had had enough. The system was never going to change and so it needed to break.

….

Two's victors were united in their strength and determination. One of their own was coming home. They would win the Quarter Quell and it would be a deserved victory, fitting of the district's status and cementing them at the top of the career districts.

Only Lyme was keeping a secret. She wanted a Two victory but was not sure how it would work with igniting rebellion. But a sole victor was only going to happen if something went wrong, in which case, she needed it to be Brutus or Enobaria. Finnick, a Twelve or even Johanna Mason would be the best choices from a rebel point of view, but she would work to engineer her desired outcome should only one return.

If all went to plan, Brutus and Enobaria just needed to stay alive until all hell broke loose. Her own position would become difficult but if needed, she could disappear into the night and perhaps have Malachite and Mason go with her.

But for now, she was simply District Two's victor of the Forty-Third Games, a leader at the Institute, an excellent mentor and part of the reason for the pride left in Cleo's eyes.

Cleo. Her mentor. What was she going to do? Lyme knew she was feeling down and tired and this Quell had only made things worse. Tiber's passing was leading to her becoming disillusioned. Cleo was ready to step back from all responsibilities and Lyme was trying to ensure that happened. But what should Lyme tell her? Could Cleo, downcast and fatigued, be swayed by the views of her dear, first victor?

Energised rebel she would not become, but someone who could use her influence to lead the others to question was more likely. Cleo did not like the Quell twist. It broke the Capitol's promises with its victors and District Two's victors were supposed to be the best of the best and they were simply pooled together with the rest. At best only one of their greatest, their district's pride was going to return and even that was no guarantee. Cleo could be about to lose her girl and Lyme could tell that resentment was brewing. There was a chance if she played it right.

….

Across both Three and Four plans were in place and their people were ready to go on the first signal. They were ready to fight on land and at sea. They were prepared, hoping for a swift victory but aware of the prospect of a more drawn-out affair. They would begin simultaneously. Any incoming peacekeepers would be split between both districts and even with further supplies, they would be outgunned and outnumbered. Years of work were about to come to fruition and the victors were keen to ensure it was all worth it.

Pluto had spent years in comfortable isolation, waiting for Beetee to come along. The older man had come from a wealthy family, for District Three standards, and had lost the chance of a normal life. He chose to do something greater with the hand he had been dealt but it exposed him to the suffering of so many. Beetee had lost his nephew to the Games, along with the chance of a full night's sleep and he struggled with guilt. Wiress' sanity had been shaken and Pluto knew it was slipping once more. She and Beetee had lost out on the hope of a normal, healthy relationship and family life. Halley's family rejected her immediately after she stepped off the train a victor and her grandparents were killed for her swift, explosive victory.

Shai's granddaughter and Rowan's son were lost to consecutive Games when Four's victors came under personal attack. Noah and Finnick returned from their arenas alive, but Chloe and Mags knew that their reaping was punishment for activities within the district. The older victors could only watch as Rowan, Song, Noah and Finnick were sold off to Capitol buyers and tried to comfort them on their return. Chloe and Coral had to keep their relationship away from prying eyes and could not live as they wished, and Annie remained hidden from Capitol view. But together, Four's victors had taken care of her and watched as she grew into a capable, smart and promising rebel.

Together, their lives revolved around making the rebellion work and now it was about to begin. They each knew the risks and were prepared to take them. It all had to be worth it.

….

Hal knew he was going to die. There was nothing he could do about it. He counted down the days he had left in Five, tried to fritter away his money and spend his evenings in the company of the bottle.

Luna and Porter were making of it what they could. They tried to help Hal, but he was rejecting their efforts.

….

Poppy had returned from what was likely her final, dangerous trip beyond Six's centre. She had hidden away on a cargo train to the district's second city which remained isolated from the centre and delivered various messages and vital communications technology to her counterparts. Max had covered for her during her absence, with the excuse that she had caught a stomach bug, should anyone ask or the peacekeepers come knocking.

But now Poppy was back to her usual flurry of activity at home, ticking items off her mental checklist of tasks to complete before the Capitol. So far, since her return, she had relayed messages to her peers in Six's central cell, drafted a note for Cecelia in Eight which she would need to run, cleaned her home, cleaned Max's house, had lunch with him to confirm what she had managed on her trip out and ensured Claudia and Levi were safe.

Poppy had not sat still in over twenty years since her survival, and she was not about to now. Being busy, too busy, Max would argue, kept her going and despite her full diary, she had never slipped up. Her tracks were covered, her people trusted her, and she had her closest allies who helped keep her hidden.

She imagined there was some suspicion over her activities from the peacekeepers, but that came with being a victor. She was now certain her activities in Six's centre were being followed but she had managed to leave on a train out, so the peacekeepers assigned to her were clearly not doing a good job. They were easy enough to bribe should anyone catch on too.

Six's morphling dealers were certainly aware of some of her activities but implicating Poppy would mean exposing their own criminality, so they were not going to take the risk. Crossing her had not ended well for those who had tried years earlier and the lengths Poppy was prepared to go to ensure her own survival were well-known.

She had heard Haymitch's motto of 'Stay Alive' for years now and found it fitting. It was what she tried to do with every task she had been assigned, regardless of the risk. She had left the district and travelled into the borderlands on an assigned task before and returned safely. She was smart, she was prepared and had people she could rely on. Those three things were true in Six and in the Capitol when she was surrounded by the other victors.

They had come so far, and they were ready. Poppy was confident in her friends as they were in her. She felt sure everything was going to work.

….

Johanna was angry. She had no choice but to return to the arena. What sort of plan had she got herself into? She was prepared for the prospect of death, no matter how her involvement played out. It was par for the course in helping orchestrate a nationwide rebellion. But another Hunger Games. Having to chaperone either the Twelves or the Threes when she knew she would be ready to take a swing at anyone who irritated her.

If she had to ally with anyone beyond Blight or Linden, she wanted it to be Finnick. But she had received instructions to help the others first. She would wring Heavensbee's neck if she saw him.

Then she overheard Linden and Blight discussing their priorities should all go wrong. They were planning to sacrifice themselves to save her if the plan failed. She did not want to be the sole survivor. She hated the games she was forced to play and did not want to continue with them when others would do a better job of surviving and regrouping.

Finnick should survive if it came down to it. The Fours could protect him. She had angered all the wrong people already. She would get the Twelve girl to shoot her if she needed.

….

It was too late to back down now. Not that Cecelia would ever want to. The whole district was erupting, and she would need to make sure she was in the Capitol before her involvement became clear.

She had prepared her husband to leave their family home in the Victors' Village with their children immediately after the reaping. Cecelia was sure her eldest understood more than he was letting on and hiding so much of what was happening from him hurt.

But the thought of not seeing her children beyond the reaping was always on her mind and in her quietest moments, when nobody needed her, she would imagine their lives beyond the war. They would be lives without her, for she had to be realistic, but she envisaged a better life for them. A life where her husband would not have to exist in the shadows, where their children did not fear the reaping because of who their mother was. An Eight where there was no reaping at all and where people could live safe and happy lives. Her children deserved that life and Cecelia needed the plan to work to make her sacrifice worthwhile.

….

Mona was struggling with Loriana's imminent arrival. Her persona would take over as they got closer to the Capitol, and she was set to lose two of her own. She could not be sure how much of Mona they would take with her.

Barley drank and sank into depression. His wife tried to help but he was getting more difficult to reach. His victor was going into the arena, and he would not be able to save him.

Barric and Maizey had found each other. They tried to make time for Barley and Mona but all they wanted to do was spend their remaining days together, alone. They dare not think too much about what lay ahead.

….

It had been worth it. He told himself every day that he had done the right thing when he told Charo they should join Maria entirely. He was going back to the arena, back to his nightmares and this time Charo would return with him. An even worse prospect than the first Games.

Adan, the boy who scored a three had won. But this time he was not so confident. His victory or even Charo's would not be the desired outcome for anyone beyond Ten. But he understood his role, where he stood in the order.

They had helped when they could, more freely once Abraham was out of the way, but they remained on the outskirts of the core group of rebel victors. They would find the alliance if they could, or perhaps follow them to try to be in the right place at the right time. But he doubted it would be enough.

But it would be worth it. District Ten was worth it. Maria's decades of work were worth it. He had spent almost nine years sharing his life, sharing everything with Charo and they had lived better than most. They had managed to have a good time. But they had managed important work too. The foundations had been laid and their deaths would be for a worthy cause.

….

Seeder had come to terms with her fate. She had no choice after all. She would return to the arena along with some of her closest friends. She had lived for sixty- four years, almost forty-six of them as a victor. By District Eleven standards, she had lived a good life.

She thought of the others in the same position as her. Hal, she did not particularly get along with, but to think of him dying in another arena, to see his spirit crushed, saddened her. Poor Johanna. She had barely had a chance to move on from her Games with everything the Capitol continued to throw at her and now this. Seeder swore to herself to help the younger woman if the occasion allowed for it, losing her would be a waste.

Woof would not even know what was happening and Seeder was not sure if that was a blessing or a curse. She hoped his ending would be quick and painless. She did not want to see the old man, her good friend, frightened.

Abraham's demise left only Adan for the District Ten men. A shame, for if there was anyone Seeder would like to throw back in an arena, it would be Abraham. But he had to go when he did. Maria did the right thing. Nobody could have envisaged the later impact on Adan. He was still the kind, gentle boy who Charo pulled from the arena, one of the most surprising victories Seeder had witnessed. But he had grown into a good, strong, principled young man. She would grieve for her own and Maria's loss.

Katniss Everdeen was the girl they had been waiting for. Unknowingly inspiring, and principled but with a level of naivety and youth that drew people in. She was brave beyond measure in volunteering and showed kindness that no other tribute had shown to one of Seeder's own. For that reason, she deserved her respect. Seeder had decided to do her best to get to know Katniss and to keep her on side. Haymitch would appreciate her efforts. She was aware the girl could be prickly.

But she was the key to everything. The Twelve girl who is unknowingly igniting the fire they had been trying to start for years. Her fire would catch, and Seeder had resolved to do everything in her power to ensure it spread across Panem.

….

He loved Katniss, but she didn't make it easy for him. He would always be patient and would never try to force feelings that she may not have but he had always tried to be kind. Now he was preparing to do all he could to ensure she made it out alive.

She had people who loved her and needed her. The truth was he didn't. His family didn't need him, and they didn't want him around all that much. He spoke to his father, but he would manage without his third son.

Haymitch had made a deal with him. Peeta would return to the arena and Haymitch would take up his usual role as mentor. It was probably for the best. From the hints Haymitch was dropping whilst they were watching the previous Games, he would be horribly out of his depth in the Mentors' Centre alone.

But he got the impression that Haymitch was hiding something. It wouldn't be the first time. But as long as the outcome was Katniss' survival, he would manage. As ever, he just had to hope that his mentor knew what he was doing.