Haha, told you that I would be back pretty soonish. And since I've been rather slow on the updating front but I'm determined to return to when I was updating at least twice a week and luckily the chapters are going to be getting a bit longer :D And anyone who has stuck around despite the uber long wait for this chapter...THANK YOU! You will be rewarded...somehow :S

So this chapter will encompass the night after the Chariot Rides. It'll be changing between a number of perspectives. So yeah... Let's get down to the nitty gritty!

Effie Trinket, District 12 Escort.

Livvya and Archie have just departed for bed in preparation for the beginning of their training regime in the morning. It is 10pm on the dot and I will be waking them for their big day tomorrow at 7am, so going on the assumption that it will take one hour for them to shower and to wind down after the hustle and bustle of the Chariot Rides; that will leave them with the eight hours sleep required for them to be well rested and alert in time for training. I sit at the table and begin to run my fingers against my temple in a vain attempt to avert the beginnings of a migraine, on one hand the Chariot Ride went well. The designers 'artistic choices' have definitely brought attention to the District 12 tributes and I am more than confident that I will succeed in securing them sponsorships which will be vital to their survival upon their entry into the arena. On the other hand however the Chariot Rides were nothing short of a complete travesty and I know that both Livvya and Archie will be tremendously disheartened, and this could be detrimental in their success.

I know that tonight my dreams will be haunted by the image of Livvya's doe like green eyes shining with unshed tears of shame, embarrassment and any other negative emotion one can ascribe to a situation. Then there was Archie who stood with his shoulders hunched in defeat, but trying to remain strong with a forced smile upon his handsome features. It is totally horrific as to how District 12 was once again made into the laughing stock of Panem, and it isn't for my own reputation that I am horrified; it is for those two children who have been forced to parade in front of the whole country completely naked with the exception of black body paint. I am well aware that the Capitol is renowned for their bizarre choices regarding fashion but this is too far for my own tastes, neither of these children are of consenting age regarding sex and for them to be presented in a way that is sexualised is simply morally repugnant. Livvya is only 12 years of age; it makes me feel sick to my stomach and then with Archie who is upon the brink of manhood the whole debacle would leave him more thank likely feeling emasculated. The other tributes were probably laughing them; I mean who would want to ally with one of the two tributes who were paraded around the City Circle in the nude. To the other tributes the notion would appear as utterly preposterous; the concept of the Hunger Games may be serious but playground politics remain.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes but I simply sniff, however dire the scenario may seem I need to maintain a sense of cool composure but it just seems wrong, however kind that the government may have been to me as a citizen of Capitol I am appalled at how little compassion is imparted upon the children of Panem's districts. But I am one woman and if I spoke out all it would lead to is me having my tongue cut out and living the remainder of my years as an Avox and what would that achieve. But my own welfare is of little importance as of right now, my main concern is for the welfare of those two children and trying to ensure that one can somehow survive the upcoming devastation of the Hunger Games. It is a steep task seeing as District 12 is a less economically developed district, poverty ridden and cast off as bloodbath victims with the games; they hardly ever get sponsors and if they do it wouldn't be enough for anything that could help them. But as I have said before, once Effie Trinket puts her mind to something then she will stop at nothing to make sure she achieves it. My mind is trying to formulate a feasible way in which I could bring one of my tributes back to their home district alive; I'm so consumed in my thoughts that I barely notice the slight knocking against the door frame.

"Miss Trinket, may we come in?" I turn to the voice and find Archie and Livvya standing in the doorway, having showered and resumed their normal appearance but looking much well cared for after their encounters with the prep teams. They look hesitant so I give them what I hope comes across as encouraging smile and beckon them in. They shuffle in and take the two seats opposite my own, sitting with their backs straight and their ankles crossed. I smile as I remember educating them in terms of their carriage and manners.

"Now what is it you would like to talk about? And do I need to remind you to call me Effie." Relieved smiles blossom onto their faces, as they glimpse at one another before looking back to me. Oh, I think I recognise that look: These two are up to something and I would be lying if I were to say I was not curious about whatever scheme these two may have concocted. I lean forward as Archie clears his throat and Livvya gnaws delicately on her bottom lip, I wonder as to what has caused them to be so anxious.

"Well Miss Trinke- Sorry, Effie. Even though I said that I didn't want to ally with Livvya on the train, we've spoke about it and we both think that it would be for the best if we made an alliance. Well, because the other tributes probably won't want to work with us. Well two of us have a better chance if we stick together. Erm...what do you think?" Livvya is nodding her head wildly in agreement and I do smile, but I think about what he has said regarding the alliance before offering my opinion. It is statistically correct that they have a better chance of survival if they were to stick together, and if one of them is to emerge as the Victor they need to survive as long as possible but then there is the possibility that if they develop a friendship of sorts and then it comes down to those two. Well the whole scenario is devastating, while I've been playing through various scenarios in my head my two tributes have been waiting for my response with bated breath.

"I think that it is a fair idea but tomorrow we will have to discuss the duration of such an alliance. Now I really must enforce that you go to bed for tomorrow will be a big, big day and I wouldn't want you being sleep deprived. Furthermore, we'll be developing training strategies over breakfast; both of which will be especially designed for what we believe will best benefit you. Goodnight." Livvya and Archie both stand from their seats and head towards the doors that lead to the bedrooms, they give me smiles which I return and as soon as they've almost gone little Livvya turns. Her lopsided pout in place and her wide green eyes are burning with curiosity.

"Where is Mister Haymitch, Effie?" Now that Livvya is the million dollar question. All I know is that I cannot give her an accurate answer regarding her mentor's whereabouts, seeing as I am clueless as to where he has disappeared off to. At the conclusion of the tribute parade he was brought a telegram by an Avox and disappeared without telling me a single thing, I really hope though that it is something regarding the welfare of his tributes. If he turns up reeking of alcohol I will be extremely disappointed: 'We' were meant to be devising training schedules, 'we' were meant to be ensuring that Livvya or Archie would survive this but rather than consulting me he has disappeared on a whim. His tributes self esteem was already low after the awful styling of the Chariot Ride, now he appears to abandon them and that will destroy any shred of confidence they possess. I can't let that happen. I turn to Livvya and see that Archie is standing behind her and they are both awaiting an answer, I need to handle this carefully: They need to feel inspired not disheartened so I arrange my features into what I hope is an enigmatic smile.

"Haymitch is currently negotiating sponsorships while I devise your training schedules, even though your chariot outfits were crude they have garnered a lot of attention and a lot of people are interested. Now you know that I want you to go to sleep. We'll talk more in the morning. I hope that our little chat has put your minds at ease. Now off you go or you won't have a schedule to speak of and by now you are both aware of my fondness for schedules." My words have the desired effect, both of them chuckle at my humour and head towards bed with small smiles on their faces upon their realization that maybe not all hope is lost and it warm my heart to see that twinkle in their eyes. Once they've left I return to staring at the table and massaging my temples, I need to give them that hope and seeing as Haymitch has disappeared off the face of the Earth the task falls to me alone but that doesn't concern me right now. All I know is that I have a long night ahead of me, but it will all be worth it in the end. Even if Haymitch has gone back on our vow to work together to bring home a District 12 Victor, I am as determined as ever and the key to success is efficiency and I will strive to surpass even my exorbitant standards of efficiency. I click my fingers and an Avox silently glides to my side.

"Now, I need a notepad and a pen. And bring a selection of highlighters, in various colours of course. And grab my daily planner which you'll find in my bedroom. Also if you could take the time to bring a telephone and my address book, I have a few calls to make. Finally, I'll need coffee. A lot of coffee, and while you're at it I would enjoy some French fancies. Effie Trinket has a lot of work to do." And all this work roots down to the Hunger Games, everything does. The political mess, everything and there is one word that slips from my lips that voices my opinions on the matter perfectly.

"Barbaric."

Galen Agretto, District 5.

However rude it may sound: Thank God that is over. Admittedly the Capitol has been nothing but hospitable since we arrived although the 'make over' process was borderline torture with all those cosmetic treatments and implements. I respected what the way in which they enhanced my appearance, the precision in which they removed bodily hair; To say that I grew up in one of the districts I have always been rather well preened and my appearance has always been something I have prided myself upon although I am glad to say I am not essentially vain. The prep team truly did work miracles though and once I had time to catch my reflection, I am confounded by the alien who stares back at me with his smoky brown hair perfectly coifed and his eyebrows shaped in a way that draws attention to his almond shaped silver eyes which seem to glisten in the artificial lights of the Capitol; it is astounding as to how something as the shape of an eyebrow can change an appearance so starkly, my cheek bones seem higher and sharper and my jaw seems chiselled. It reminds me of the salves and concoctions me and my mother would make back in home in District 5, how the addition of one root or herb could completely alter the purpose of such a remedy or the effect it has on a patient. The nostalgia brings a quirk to my lips which would be a full blown smile if I didn't find myself in the predicament of having to fight in the 62nd Hunger Games, the aroma of boiling roots and herbal salts a phantom lingering in my nostrils makes the homesickness hit me in the gut.

The reflection staring back at me is a man, the man I could one day be. The reflection seems elegant, refined and glamorous; a world apart from the humble and hard working boy I was only days ago. This reflection is one which belongs to a Victor, an esteemed citizen of Panem: Adored, but for this to become my destiny I must go against everything I believe in. Although I am not a fully fledged healer, I stand by the sacred oath that I will never bring deliberate harm to another. To emerge as the Victor I will have to do a lot more than 'deliberately harm' another, I will have to take their life which is a concept which morally repulses me. This moral dilemma has been plaguing me since the fateful moment when Georgiana Hertz called my name at the reaping, in a matter of days I am entering a cesspool of deceit, violence and murder. And I am still clueless as what to do, to stick with what I believe and die knowing that I never compromised the Healers Oath or do I try to survive and become what I despise in the hope that if I somehow win then I will be able to do a little good in a world plagued by poverty, prejudice and disease.

But right now, the biggest thing on my mind is not this moral quandary. The stimulus for my sleepless nights, the constant state of anxiety, the stimulus for my lack of focus. It all comes back to that girl: Autumn Thorn. A girl whose existence I had never noticed in my previous 17 years back home in District 5, she was known to me only as the sweet girl whose father was involved in a tragic power plant incident and however unbelievable the idea is I think that there is something about the girl. Similar to how a bee is drawn to honey, there is something distinctly alluring about the auburn haired girl; she reminds me of a porcelain doll, behind her feminine beauty there are scars. Emotional traumas which lurk beneath the surface, maladies I long to heal and since this whole Hunger Games fiasco begun she appears to be more broken than usual. Since the reaping I haven't seen her smile once, never have I seen the sparkle of joy dance in her eyes and for some unfathomable reason I find myself nursing an irrational desire to be the one who makes that smile light up her face. Under any circumstances I wouldn't be cautious regarding my instant attraction to the girl but in a situation when at least one of us is guaranteed death, our 'budding romance' is nothing short of a tragedy; This isn't love, I know that but what if it could blossom into something like that. Could I watch her die? Would I die in order to protect her? These have been the thoughts that have been playing on loop in every waking thought and manifesting in my dreams.

But then there was the kiss. Why did she have to kiss me? I mean, all it has achieved is to just multiply my previous concerns tenfold. Every second that ticks by means that at least one of us is a second closer to death and maybe I could ignore it, but I can't ignore the way I felt when she kissed me. Over the last couple of years I have kissed a few girls in the district and I wouldn't be lying if I said that they did invoke certain reactions in me as they would in any teenage boy. But with Autumn it was, mind the cliché, different; it was like a page torn from the trashy romance novels Mariella can be seen reading: the butterflies in my stomach, my heartbeat racing at such a speed that I thought that it would burst from my chest like a bird about to take flight. The transformation in her was instantaneous too, no longer was she a fragile girl with tears streaming down her face. She was a woman, standing tall and proud, with a fire burning in her eyes. She radiated power, confidence and in that moment I was mesmerised; it really does sadden me to see a girl who can be shining like a star one moment be reduced to a quivering wreck all because of the Hunger Games. I slam my fist into the oak chest of drawers in frustration although I immediately regret it, my knuckles are throbbing and I am able to ascertain rather quickly that they are neither broken nor dislocated. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt, the throbbing sensation tells me that the area will be swelling pretty soon unless I apply a cold compress and while I'm getting that I may as well see if I could find something to help me sleep since tomorrow training begins. Upon realising this I feel like slapping myself in the face, how am I meant to fully utilise the training period with a hand that I self prescribe needs at least a day of rest; so it is with a sense of self loathing that I shuffle to the kitchen.

"So you can't sleep either Galen?" I jump in surprise as I hear Autumn's voice, melodic and flutelike. A sound so beautiful and so delicate I could listen for days on end, but it is unusual to hear Autumn speaking without her voice being besmirched by sobs, muted by her devastation or tainted by the aura of melancholy she has surrounded herself with since the realisation of her more than likely upcoming death. I just stare at her rather than responding, completely floored by the contrast to the girl I stood alongside during the Tribute Parade. She is no longer crying helplessly or consumed by fear. She looks more mature, a woman not a girl, a woman who stands to her fullest height with her shoulders relaxed and her eyes shine with intelligence. This isn't a girl overwhelmed by her emotions, but rather one whom keeps a tight leash on any emotion. Calm and collected, her full lips are set into a straight line and her arms folded against her chest; earlier I would have said my reflection held the bearings of a Victor but that sentiment seems ridiculous considering the sight before me. The girl standing before me is an avenging goddess bathed in the liquid silver that is moonlight, and in this moment I have no doubt she could win. Autumn just raises her eyebrow and I know that she is expecting an answer.

"Ummm...yes, I have had trouble sleeping lately and I've come to look for something that could help remedy it...I could get something for you too if you would like Autumn as I know that today has been very stressful for you, for both of us..." I internally wince at the awkwardness of my response, I have always been rather proud of my eloquence and efficient bedside manner but today I couldn't seem to find any words. She smiles and nods her head and once again she has changed before my eyes; not a weakling girl drowning in her own tears or the avenging goddess. Right now she appears to be a normal 17 year old girl as they playful smile curls her lips, and I shake my head try and focus. I've heard of afflictions of the mind, examples of people having multiple personalities in one body but I shake my head at that ridiculous idea. Autumn is in the same position as I, on the brink of adulthood and struggling to find who she is with the pressure of the Hunger Games hanging over her head. I quickly fix two cups of hot chocolate before handing one to Autumn who accepts it with a grateful nod and I find myself smiling at her, I shake my head to try and regain some resemblance of focus. We just stand there in silence but it isn't awkward, we're both basking in one another's company: Nobody telling us about training or manners, it's just me and Autumn clinging to these last moments of relative normality. Once we're finished Autumn carries our cups to the kitchen where an Avox will clean them later and then heads towards the doors that lead to the sleeping quarters before turning back.

"Goodnight Galen, I really enjoyed the hot chocolate. Oh and by the way, I'd get some ice on that hand of yours as soon as possible or it'll be too swollen to use tomorrow. See you in the morning bright and early for training." At the mention of training her bright smile dissipates and her eyes widen with trepidation, I feel my own smile slide from my face as I note that tomorrow it really does begin. It is only four days now until we're forced into an arena to murder one another in cold blood. But it isn't too long until I feel a blush warm my cheeks and I know that I'm probably glowing crimson despite my olive complexion, how did Autumn notice my hand? I thought she'd be too consumed by her thoughts to notice something so trivial but it isn't the first that she surprised me, maybe I was too keen to underestimate her seeing as she always seemed to be crying. As soon as she's about to leave I seem to realise I have some control over my vocal chords.

"Autumn, wait. I was wondering if you'd consider forming an alliance?" I don't know why I'm so nervous, Autumn is rarely seen without tears in her eyes and has never struck me as formidable and in all honesty there is a strong likelihood that she would be more of a hindrance than a help. But as she turns back I note the pained expression gracing her delicate features, as if she is torn or more accurately caught between a rock and an equally hard place; I feel as if someone has punched me in the gut. Autumn is able to rearrange her features into a comforting smile but she cannot hide the speculative expression which lingers in the set line of her mouth.

"I'll think about it..."

Seeder Fernwright, District 11 Mentor.

I'm running a little late for the appointment, but whomever was summoning me will have to accept that. My only business until recently was as a Mentor to my tributes and that will always come first, I won't allow anything to get in the way of that. Poor Clo and Nic being dragged through the City Circle all dressed up like prized poodles at a dog show thank the good Lord above that for once their costumes weren't entirely ridiculous , poor children dragged from their homes to compete in some display of 'honour' and 'valour'. Although with Chaff as my partner I have to try and maintain some semblance of objectivity and try to maintain some form of emotional distance but really the whole thing is simply laughable. What does the blasted government think murdering 23 children every year every year will honestly achieve? I swear they may as well send invites out asking for mutiny and bloody open warfare with the districts, but saying that aloud will most definitely get me involved in one of those 'accidents' our twisted President favours. And I know for a fact that my status as Victor won't help me one little bit, I've seen one too many of my fellow Victor's die from so called 'mysterious circumstances' after being too outspoken to believe that they're all simply coincidences. As I bustle towards the room I've been summoned to, I grab the telegram I received after the Chariot Rides from the pocket of my lime green, silk jacket:

Miss Seeder Fernwright,

You are summoned to Warehouse A, found adjacent to the Training Building. Be there at 10.15pm and it is detrimental that you tell nobody of this for it is time for we to stand as one and to bring on the fire that will one day melt the Snow.

Yours Most Sincerely,

The Perfumed Thorn.

Well, whoever sent this isn't really the most learned person when it comes to discretion. I mean naming the meeting place is definitely not the smartest move one could make and then you have the time and a not so subtle insinuation of the meetings agenda; because if I'm right, and women of my age are gifted with infallible intuition, this is about some kind of rebellion: It's been tried before and I've seen them all be squashed before they come to fruition. So why am I going to this little rendezvous? Because I know that Chaff will be there and I need to keep an eye on him, despite his age the boy is so immature that I need to be there to make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid. Call it an old woman's intuition. At least whoever sent the telegram had enough brains to not give their name, I look towards the building I'm meant to be and rehearse the monologue I've got planned for Chaff when I get my hands on that boy but before I can step out towards the road something grabs me from behind. Yes, I'm an old woman but I'm still a Hunger Games Victor and I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve. I sink my elbow into his stomach before stamping down on his foot, the grip on me slackens and I pull away. I turn around ready to sock whoever it is in the face but what I see almost gives me heart attack. An Avox, those little people wouldn't usually hurt a soul and it is that thought that stops me in my tracks. Whoever it is, they're holding their stomach in pain and I've got say I'm more than a little satisfied that I haven't lost my touch. Well at least I know what all the Capitol escorts are on about when they're moaning about the 'poor service', especially if Avoxes are beginning to make a habit of attacking people in the street.

"Young man, why were you trying to attack me? And let me warn you now, try any more funny business and I'll be sure to give you a good slap before I tell the authorities." The dark haired man is shaking his head and pointing at something but I'm no fool, you don't need to have won the Hunger Games to know that you never turn your back on someone who tried to attack you. I fold my arms across my chest and he starts pointing at my chest, oh he didn't mean to try and defile me did he because I'll give him the biggest beating the man has ever known, he'll be in more pain than when they cut out his tongue but before I can finish this train of thought he starts to walk away while gesturing for me to follow him. Humph, I slide my hair pin out and hold it like a dagger in my hand, if I'm following him I'm not going unprepared. I follow at a safe distance but eventually I have to get closer since we're taking so many twists and turns I can truly say that I'm lost, but I definitely know that this is a part of the Capitol I've never seen and I've been here a fair few times. In no time we arrive at a dingy cabin that makes me stop in surprise, this isn't what you expect in the Capitol. You expect tall skyscrapers made from the finest materials, not wooden shacks that look as though they're about to collapse in on themselves. I look towards my Avox guide who points to me then the door and then starts nodding his head, I raise my eyebrows to let him know that if anything happens I will haunt him until the day he dies.

I push open the door which creaks as though it is about to fall from its hinges, and even though I come from District 11 I almost wretch at the repugnant stench emanating from the rooms beyond. Never thought you'd find the smell of rotting flesh and fish guts in the Capitol, if I had any family I'd definitely be writing home about this. I step into the room and I swear I could have died of shock, a large mahogany table fills the room surrounded by mismatched chairs but the biggest surprise is the people who fill the chairs. Well at least I know where bloody Chaff got off to, he flinches when I send a withering glare his way and I nod in approval: At least he knows he deserves the ear bashing he is about to get. He's safe for now as I take in the familiar faces who fill the other chairs: Sheen from district 1 nods her head and I nod back; You've got Beetee who gives me a quick wave and Wiress who gives me one of her smile, then there is Mags, Blight, Cecelia, Woof, Pepper, Austin and Haymitch. I am just about to give them all a stern talking to regarding their blatant negligence of their tributes when I am struck by a sudden thought. What is this, some Mentor meeting? And why are only Because I'm a bit confused as to why we didn't meet in the Training Building, because it is a hell of a lot more sanitary and I grew up in a place where there is no such thing as a sewage system. I just stare before a voice resonates throughout the room and I think it wise for me for me to take a seat.

"Now that you have all arrived it is time to begin, I'm sure you're all wondering why you have been asked here. It is time for there to be a few changes, and the first change needed is the end of Snow and for the abolishment of the Hunger Games. You've all been chosen because I deem you trustworthy, if you're unwilling to take part in this pursuit of change I encourage you to leave now and to never speak of this again or I will personally remove your tongue." I gulp and look around and I can see the exact expression of disbelief mirrored on everybody else's face with the exception of Mags who looks as if she's heard all of this before and is rather bored. Who the hell is this? Nobody stands to leave because deep down we all know that things need to change but what are we meant to do? And who does she, because the voice was definitely female, think she is threatening to cut out our tongues? I'd give her a right piece of my mind. My questions are on the tip of my tongue.

"I am glad you have all remained to stay, thank you. Now the first thing is that we're not alone, but first I think introductions are in order. First let me introduce my accomplice, Plutarch Heavansbee." My hand flies to my mouth in absolute shock; the man who steps to the head of the table is most definitely a Capitolite. I know this because this man is a Gamemaker although he recently missed out on the role as Head Gamemaker to that Seneca Crane who I would give all the gold in the world to give a good slap. Whatever this rebellion business is about it must mean that it's serious seeing as we have a Gamemaker in our midst. We're all speechless but you can still hear the intake of breath as the next person emerges from the shadows: The insanely beautiful blonde bombshell that is Rosalinde Snow. If I weren't sitting down I am certain I would have collapsed in shock. Austin is grinning and looking the young woman up and down and I tut at his behaviour, everyone else seems to be trying to pick their jaws up from the floor. My hand is resting against my chest because something like this could probably give me a heart attack or some other kind of coronary defect at my age, and with that thought my eyes find Old Mags who may have keeled over from the shock of it all. But no Mags is sitting in her chair with her arms crossed and nodding approvingly.

"Aye I'd be' me life tha' this will go a lo' better than las' time." That sly old dog, I'd heard about attempts of rebellion in the past as all of us have but I thought that everyone involved was killed for their 'little indiscretions', seems that Mags is full of secrets and has a few things she could be teaching us so none of us are killed for our involvement in this debacle. Although I know a rebellion is necessary and that it could be all 'Happily Ever After' even if that outcome is unlikely but all I can think is: Whatever on Earth have I gotten myself into? The President's daughter, a Gamemaker and the motley crew of Victors leading a rebellion. I'm too old for this so I haven't a clue as to how Mags and that are feeling. The air is humming with anticipation, excitement and anxiety but silence reigns as Rosalinde opens her mouth once again, I wonder what this young woman has in store for us all...

Haha, don't think you need to anything else about the little meeting... everything will come out eventually! Training is next and it'll be a chapter a day, unless I think it might need more PEZAZZZ and then I'll put little bits in. The tributes are going to be the sole focus until the beginning of the games, we'll still see some Mentors and a bit of Rosa but they will probably keep popping up every now and then...

REVIEW! Let me know what you think and everything.

Thanks for reading my lovelies.