PRECEDING THE 99TH HUNGER GAMES, 0931 Hours
Nothing could have frightened her more, or prepared her in any way. It wasn't like she could practice a scandal. Not in Panem, she knew too well. The world seemed to be spinning like a top, faltering at its point of her life and reputation. They had begun the pursuit, it didn't matter if she was clad in a cloak of silence now. It wasn't an extra effort to slow her breathing, it was more of a habit really. She knew, that not far behind her, rustling in the bushes, came the Peacekeepers, guns at hand and too austere faces targeting her life-source.
The smaller body, whose step was awkward as it was, being held by force against the larger, was warm, sweating as well, if not heavier. But she understood less than none of what was going through her sister's mind at the moment. She could only help herself enough to wonder if she had finally lost it mentally. It was a disheartening pondering, but unlikely. Her feet were bare, pressing small imprints into the soft, dirt floor of the forest.
The elder one was focused, mind set and planned course completely intact. She just hoped she knew things firmly enough. She swerved a sudden turn to the right, taking cover behind a tree than maneuvering the two of them through a maze of elders and pines and oaks. At the corners of her eyes, everything was blurred, but it didn't matter. Just a little farther...
In the nearby distance, an evidently old and worn willow, lone and sad, came up ahead. Her gait lengthened and she sprinted the last measure as quickly as she could. Sticking out her left arm, she hit the tree with immense force and gripped tightly on it, causing the younger to be thrown out of her grasp. "Run Minnie!" she hissed. "Go! Up a tree past the river!"
Her deep blue eyes, a color that would always remind her of a deep trench in the ocean, lit by a single ray of sunshine, trembled with a mixed bag of emotions. On the verge of tears, she opened her mouth to retort, but no words could sound out. She didn't have the time or the mind to protest the confusing will of her sister. A final brusque nod was exchanged; when the sound of approaching rustling came, she dashed off, at an obviously more comfortable sprint. Her luscious brown hair waved a final goodbye as she faded into the cover of the forest.
The remaining girl's hair was disheveled, resembling vines as they fell down before her face. Two pools of a lighter blue animosity peered through. She hid herself messily in some undergrowth and thistle that surrounded the base of the willow. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around her knees. And she waited. Tears were pushing up, but she refused to release them. Not at a time like this. She buried her face into her thigh and the reason why she came flashed back in a quick moment...
Morning spilled dimly into the midst of the room; of course, the lighting was always poor in here, but it didn't bother the girl much at all. Her bony, skinny hands gripped a serving platter which supported some tea and two mugs which had been older than she was. The worn figure that was hunched over in the lumpy beige couch on the opposing side of the room smiled back at her with a full-toothed grin. It had intrigued her for years, to know the old witch's secret. At the miraculous age of 97, she had all of her teeth, and could sense anyone's presence within the entire house although blindness had altered her years ago. But she never questioned it. She let the essence of the mystery overcome her. It was surprisingly pleasant.
"Don't have to be hasty now, dear. Come, come." she gestured for her to approach. Without further hesitation, she came over, placed the platter on the rickety oakwood table between the chair and the couch and seated herself in the chair she always sat in when she came to Old Ellie's shack at the very end of the road, past the forest, almost to the edge of the territory. It was a pleasant house, and people certainly did not mind walking over once in a while to listen to a story or gain advice, or more accurately, insight.
"Azalea, dear, can you put in some sugar for me?" Lea knew the old hag could manage it herself, but she was also aware that she enjoyed her company. For months now she had visited Old Ellie out of kindness, believing that her age would have faltered her more. But she was obviously misled. She nodded and put in the sugar. With the satisfying plop it made, the elder smiled and brought the cup to her lips. Taking a draught, she replaced the cup perfectly where it had been before.
"Tell me dear, your family has been doing well? Luke out looking for a position from Sir..." she frowned, trying to recall the name.
"Hartsworth, Miss Rillamoan, yes." Still fascinating every time, how well she knew everyone, even if she was considered a stubborn hermit. She remembered when she first came here, frightened by the fact that the old woman already knew her name.
She waved a hand. "Please, please Azalea, I insist you call me Ellie at the least." she took another draught.
"Then I please you insist call me Lea." she said, not unkindly, mimicking her actions. The tea was subtle, much to her pleasure.
Ellie nodded, a smile dawning again. "Yes of course dear, you have everyone call you that." This time she nursed the cup in her palm. "But something tells me you're troubled; you have a doubled reason for coming today."
'Nailed it directly, yet again,' Lea thought. "Yes ma'am." she said, not denying the fact whatsoever. "We're worried about this year's Reaping. Everyone is, Ellie." she said the name a bit awkwardly. "Selene and I were conversing about it not two hours ago." she assumed she already knew the identity of her best friend, Selene Venatra. She had another friend, Hector, but he had been home sick that day. Ellie kept nodding politely as she listened. 'You can always count on her for that.' Lea thought.
"And you wish for me to see who will be reaped this year?"
Too quickly, Azalea shook her head. "Oh no... I couldn't let you release that information..." But that couldn't hide the desire that was burning a hole through her throat.
Ellie smiled, knowingly, and spoke again. "Well, much to your disappointment, I cannot disturb that secret. I would not be able to tell even if it had already been determined..." Her spoon tinked as it was spun around in the cup. "That information is hidden from me..." Keeping her expression stoic, Lea offered a curt nod in return. She had to admit that disappointment hadn't overcome her, it was expected.
"However.." her voice was crackly, like you would expect an old person's to be, but with seemingly even more experience, if that was possible. "I give you the odds of any one of your beloveds getting reaped this year..."
A bright light flashed ambitiously in her eyes. "I couldn't ask you... if it will depreciate your strength..."
Rising up from her seat, she began to hobble to the kitchen. "I think you underestimate me, Miss Lea. I'm not so weak as one would assume. That or you're very intelligent. Quite likely both." She was unsure whether to take that as a compliment or a shun. She let it pass as neither and both. Some noises of plates and bowls being moved came from the kitchen. 'I wonder if she practiced finding things when she became blind...' was a subconscious question that repeatedly appeared in her mind. Barely three minutes later, Ellie returned with several herbs a small china bowl in her hands. She placed them on the table and began to chew up the leaves.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be...releasing this information to me?" she asked tentatively.
Another smile, and an added wink. "I can let this one slide. You're such a good heart, dear. I didn't think I could turn down your plea." Her movements were precise and methodical, almost like art. She had practiced this for no one knew how long. Intrigued, Azalea watched intently. Soon the mixture became a purple substance, odorless to her nose. Slowly, she leaned against the back of the chair and watched Ellie take up the bowl to her face. She scented it, tasted it with her finger, and even but her ear to the bowl. Such strange things indeed.
A frustrated moment spilled on her face. "It's a bit unclear... so many words are muffled..." Her lips moved, trying to make sense of the words only she could hear. Azalea wondered now if she could learn, despite the apparent dislike the higher class of District 9 gave Ellie Rillamoan. "Hunger Games is evident..." she muttered almost inaudibly. Now Lea leaned in, wanting desperately to hear more. "Well isn't that strange? Not even names... just the circumstance... someone must have..." then her words came as inarticulate mumbles.
"What is it Ellie?" she inquired softly.
She shook her head. "I think it's implying that someone fell... off a stage? No, on...in. Someone fell into the stage? That can't be right... fell... in... how strange..." She placed the bowl back down and shook her head with disappointment. "I'm sorry dear, that's all I can really give you."
By now, Azalea's face had gone a ghastly white. Her hands had become clammy and were clenched up. She nodded. "No, no. It's alright, I understand fully." Rising up to her feet she picked up her bag at the doorway and began to open the door. "Thank you, Miss Rillamoan, Ellie!" she replied as enthusiastically as she could manage before leaving for good.
"You're welcome dear!" she heard faintly as she left. Just as the door shut, she heard a grim, ominous, "Take care of yourself." It was not the usual, 'I'll see you tomorrow at the same time, dear.' The entire walk home, her face regained no color, and her eyes faltered several times.
A member of the Fellin family was to be reaped tomorrow.
Now the Peacekeepers, there were three of them, she was sure, were within a five meter radius. It was uncomfortably close. But she knew she couldn't move. Even if they located her, she couldn't move. Not even if they tortured her to the very last possible answer she could give, she could not move. Paralyzed on the spot, she heard them coming closer. This is it... they're going to get me... the thought danced unpleasantly now.
Abruptly, a hand grasped onto her shoulder, another two joined it and pulled her up from hiding. She released a piercing scream, almost banshee like, and struggled to get out of their grasp. She twisted frantically, shouting "Ge'roff! Get off me!" She screamed for the second time as the forced her hands behind her back and carried her like a lamb to the slaughter all the way back to the Town Square of District 9.
The Reaping of the 99th Hunger Games was already in session.
Many watchful, fearful eyes followed her as the Peacekeepers shoved her forwards, although she tripped twice in the aisle-way. It felt like a death-march. She had heard about those in school, they happened a long time ago, to people who were considered lessers, mutiny to society. Azalea thought it suited her quite well now. She didn't miss the shocked, but concerned expression that dwelled on Selene's face as she passed, Hector's being mutual on the opposing side. There were plenty of people she recognized, which was slightly embarrassing; but not as bad as the feeling that pitted into her heart when she saw the dark countenance of the Mayor. She broke the gaze and stared down at her muddy, torn boots. She didn't expect to get a new pair. It took a lot of her energy to lift her legs up the steps. She halted when the Mayor's clean, shiny shoes were a mere foot from hers.
The crowd had gone silent. "The crime, Mister Reginald?" the Mayor inquired of the Peacekeeper to her left.
"The crime is runaway, sir. There were two, we believe, but we only caught this one."
"Cowardice is more of the crime sir." Azalea dared to speak. It wasn't like her words mattered anymore. She was going to be shunned by almost everyone in District 9, if not the Capitol now.
The Mayor probably nodded. "Identity?"
No offer came from any of the Peacekeepers. "Eh-hem." he coughed, implying that it was she who was asked the question. Warily, she looked up and met the cold eyes of her current Mayor. He was roughly in his late fifties, an average height and weight man, with normally very little to say.
For a few moments, she offered him nothing. She didn't feel any oblige to him. But it had to be done.
"Azalea Wren Fellin, Your Honor." she said, almost challengingly. Her eyes were notably like blazing ice.
The Mayor gave a curt nod. "Do you deny this claim, Miss Fellin?"
"No, sir." she nodded briskly in return. "I intentionally ran away from the Reaping Ceremony." she admitted flatly, yet with an inner boldness. Some gasps came from the crowd. Nothing less than expectation.
At the moment, the Mayor seemed to be pondering something. His right foot tapped slightly, she realized as he did so. A foreboding silence hung in the air again.
"Shall we take her into custody, Your Honor?" the Peacekeeper to her right broke the silence. The Mayor glanced his way. For a particularly cloudy, cold day, it certainly seemed warm outside. To Lea at least. "No." he stated simply. A baffled expression came from the Peacekeepers and some in the horde.
He grasped the teen gently by the shoulders, and pulled her from the Peacekeepers. But his presence wasn't so comforting either. Turning her around to face the crowd, she suddenly felt faint. Her eyes wandered to her boots again. He raised up her arm, high in the air, as if she had a mark on her hand for everyone to see. She hadn't even paid any attention to the other tributes standing grimly at the edges of the stage. She felt sorry, and couldn't dare look at their faces, lest she would recognize them.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of my dear District 9; for the first time in Panem history, I offer you a tribute whose name was not picked by the tradition, but by punishment and debt!" Her head jerked up, meeting the thousands of eyes in the group. In her chest, her heart pounded unnaturally.
"I give you Azalea Wren Fellin, Your Fourth Tribute of District 9 for the 99th Hunger Games!"