With thanks to Glassgift and akuhilangditelanbumi for your reviews of the last chapter.
There was blood on her hands, and it felt tacky and disgustingly warm. Glace did not want to think about it. Glace had trained herself not to think about it.
"Our female tribute- Glace Gratton!" The Capitolian called to the District 1 crowd, expertly playing the audience in front of them. The crowd cheered, baying for the blood she had spilt, the terror she had wrought.
Her parents stood at the side, unable to tear their eyes from the action but horrified at its course. She did not focus her gaze on them.
She had to keep cold under the gaze of the Capitol. She had to remain impassionate.
Sometimes she felt as if her cool gaze was not enough; that somebody would see through her and would see why she stood on the stage, that the camera's gaze could kill her if she did not move correctly.
And why wouldn't it? It killed Rhys.
The Capitolian kickstarted the male volunteers, and the crowd howled in triumph and bloodlust as the crimson substance splattered the ground.
Glace did not care who succeeded in volunteering. She truly didn't. She had a plan for the Games, and the backstabbing, bloodthirsty men that would follow her to the Capitol were not her interest. She was slight, and while she had speed, efficiency and considerable aim on her side she did not have the sheer strength or intimidation that was typically required in a Career alliance. She had a different plan.
And her plan did not involve Sheen Astara, his face coated in blood from having wrestled with one of his bleeding fellow volunteers. He appeared jubilant, bathed in blood but not sated of his own bloodlust. The Capitolian smiled graciously and congratulated him, but was careful not to get any on himself.
The Peacekeepers escorted them into the Justice building, and the crowd's yells faded into muted cries behind them.
Sheen stretched out, despite his height and strength as lithe as a cat. He clapped Glace on the shoulder; Glace tried to maintain her ground but ended up swayed by the large and bloodied hand that connected with her. She retaliated with an icy stare, carefully ignoring the feeling of warm liquid seeping into her best sequinned shirt.
She had enough of it staining her hands to cover it everywhere else.
The hall of the Justice Building that Glace was escorted into was decorated with muted colours, purples fading into blues. Glace stood for a moment; legs placed slightly apart to ground her stance. She stood and stared at the gradient of paint on the wall. She took deep breaths, calm and long. She had learnt to do this when Rhys died. She had learnt that she had only two options- grief or control.
This was her control.
She felt blood trickling from her hands, off her back, and her concentration was broken. The door opened behind her, and Glace felt two shaking arms embrace her.
She couldn't bring herself to love them.
They or she would die, soon enough- the loss would break either or both of them. Glace could not permit that. But she could try to help them understand.
She carefully loosened her mother's grasp, turned to face them both. They were weary, upset; this was not what they had wanted of their child, but Glace could not be anything more.
"Oh, Glace," her mother said, voice cracking from the effort to keep it steady. "We know you're upset, we know, but- what good will following him do?"
"There is no use in crying now. I will either die or win, and you can cry then." Glace could not permit herself to be upset, so she pushed it down into herself and remained impassive as she tried to console her parents. "And I intend to come back."
Bodies were generally returned to their families after the Games, so Glace was not lying.
Her father spoke next; he seemed drained of all he had, as unable to feel as her. Yet, despite that, his voice was laden with emotion.
"Glace, darling." He gathered her into her arms, and both parents hugged her tightly. Glace should not permit herself to do so, but she hugged back, briefly and tightly.
As she pulled back and the warmth left her and the blood trickled down her back, it felt like she had been ripped in half all over again, and it was all she could do to keep her mask on.
"I'll be back," she said, voice wavering despite her best efforts. She could not tell them everything of what she was doing, because she did not entirely know herself; but she knew she would either absolve herself of her sins or purge the Capitol's in trying. She could, however, tell them this.
"And I'll bring Rhys home with me." She promised, her heart ripping in two at saying his name, a name she never said because the pain broke past everything she had built to repress it. Her parents looked overwhelmingly confused- likely because his body was returned three years ago with the rest of them. But Glace knew what she meant.
And soon enough, they would too.
And with that, the Reapings are over.
Thank. God.
I love setting up characters, and introducing them is fun, but the time must come when I need to just smoosh them together and let actual plot happen rather than setup and emotion.
But soon. Not in the next chapters.
I'm actually quite excited about the next three, because they're really going to be the last big setups, and then we can all watch the dominos fall into place.
I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am, because your submissions are all divine to work with. Thank you, as ever, for reading- from here on in, I'll try to keep a more minimal presence as the plot begins.