A/N: Luke's POV

Ligeia and I went down for training on the first day, listening to the talk of the Capitol woman about what we should do, what stations we ought to pay attention to, and the rules everybody was aware of. Some of the younger kids, some of the kids from outlying Districts, were absolutely shaking with terror already. It didn't bode well for their chances in the Games if they were so easily intimidated by the skill of six teenagers with swords, knives, and spears.

Sebastien was impressive. And Ligeia and Sebastien quickly established a close bond over their knives. It was also quickly established that I would be the weak link in the Career pack, but they kept me, whether for Ligeia's sake or for my mentor, who was widely regarded as one of the more promising mentors.

By lunch Ligeia suggested to Sebastien, as Mags had told her, that we invite Blake from District Six into our fold, and so they courted him at lunch, and the fourteen-year-old, who had proven himself to be incredible with a sword and a bow joined us willingly, eagerly even. Maybe he thought this would increase his chances of staying alive.

I had had a similar thought about myself, but being a weak link amongst the Careers could ensure that I was the first killed. Similarly, being the greatest among the Careers could make Sebastien the first target, someone the other Careers would rally to get rid of before divvying off and doing away with each other.

I tried to push the thought out of my mind that afternoon as I tried to gain some camaraderie with Finley, the eighteen-year-old from District Two.

"Spears," he said. "Spears, javelins… anything I can throw. I'm not stupid or arrogant enough to think I could kill all twenty-three in close range."

We were watching Sebastien oil up to wrestle a Capitol sparring partner. I nodded.

"Knives for me," I said. "Throwing or in close quarters, it doesn't really matter. But I like knives. Who do you think you'll target for your first kill?"

Finley's lips curled into a smile and he pointed at the boy from District Twelve, who was attempting to determine which berries the edible plants instructor was holding out to him were poisonous.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"No idea," Finley said, attempting to tie the knot we had just been shown.

"What's his name?"

"No idea."

"Well, why do you want to kill him?"

Finley shrugged a bit, still focusing on the knot.

"He looks more scared than I am. It'll make it easier to put him out of his element, once I figure out what that is. Besides, Twelve doesn't usually last very long. Should be nice and easy to pick off. Who do you have in mind?"

I looked around the training center.

"You know, I hadn't really thought about it," I admitted, finishing the simple knot and moving on to the next one. "I guess I'll know when the time comes, whoever stumbles across my path first."

He laughed a little and then looked over at my knot and frowned, realizing I was already three knots ahead of him and nearly onto my fourth.

"Why are you even at this station?" he said with a bit of a pout. "You already know how to do every knot at the station."

"Probably," I conceded with a laugh. "I needed a bit of a break from all of the strenuous activity. I don't know how Sebastien can just go from one combat station to another like he's trying on clothes."

Finley shook his head again, snorting.

"Did Finnick tell you to follow Sebastien's lead too? Brutus made it sound like I'd die without him, as if I were some sort of weakling. I'm almost his size, I'm almost his age, and hitting one edge or the other of the bull's-eye when throwing knives doesn't make a difference. But Lyme gave the same speech to Catriona. Do you know if Mags said the same thing to Ligeia?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I sighed. "It wouldn't surprise me if they didn't work out between them who the leader would be and make the others aware of it, but Ligeia's tough. It also wouldn't surprise me if Mags was grooming her to take over when Sebastien bites it. If he bites it," I added quickly, noticing the pondering expression on Finley's face as he turned to consider Ligeia, who was throwing knives like they were pebbles.

"What, not one for rooting with the odds?" he said sourly after a long silence.

I shrugged.

"It's hard to say that when there aren't even odds yet," I reasoned. "We don't have training scores. We haven't done interviews. For all we know Sebastien could come up with a six and flop his interview, and then he'd be as likely to win as that primary target of yours from Twelve."

Finley snorted.

"That's a bit of a stretch. But I get your point. Until we know the scores he's as likely to win as any other Career or some of the stronger guys," he said, considering. "Like Blake, or that boy from Ten… What's his name?"

"Draven," I said, recalling Finnick's advice about trying to pull him into the alliance. "Finnick thinks he's going to be good. Said to try to convince him to join the alliance."

Finley frowned.

"Hmm, Brutus didn't mention him, but I could ask. Maybe he just didn't think about it." He fumbled with the knot he was working on a bit for a moment before saying, "Sometimes I think the ones like Brutus and Lyme have been mentoring too long, too stuck in the way things have been to think outside of the box. It's why there haven't been as many Career wins in the recent past as there used to be."

I hadn't thought about it, the numbers or the odds or the methods. Things had been done the way they were for so long that I hadn't thought to question that they might be done in some better way. Finnick was the young, fresh blood in the Career mentoring area, and he seemed to make his friends outside of the Careers, apart from Mags. It made sense that he might look at things a little differently.

"Looks like Catriona's making friends with him too," Finley said, nodding to where Catriona and Draven were talking in low tones, making a show of looking at edible and poisonous plants but really just talking rapidly about something, looking around at the others. We frowned.

"Are you sure Brutus didn't mention him to you?" I said.

"Positive," Finley muttered. "Look, now he's talking to Charlotte… and Maggie… and Daisy… I think they're talking to him because they think he's attractive. I don't think all of those girls' mentors would have specified to chat him up."

It seemed a reasonable assumption. I could recognize that Draven was quite good-looking.

After training I took a shower and washed all of the sweat from the day off my body. Some of what I did, like making knots with Finley, was more of a breather to discuss with my allies, but I had gotten in plenty of physical activity as well.

Once I had thrown on fresh clothes I headed out for dinner, but paused, hearing voices speaking in low, secretive tones. I strained my ears to hear Mags and Finnick whispering in the main area.

" – telling you, something is really wrong with her. I know she's not the most pleasant person on earth, but she's been a lot more irritable than normal, and Lyme seems to know something but she wouldn't tell me. I don't understand what's wrong. I've been wracking my brains since I realized something was off, but nothing is coming to me."

"Don't worry about it too much, Finnick. Don't forget that victors are often paranoid. Haven't you thought maybe you're reading more into this than is actually there?"

"Of course I've thought that, Mags, I've heard about Haymitch taking knives to sleep. I mean, I've almost done it myself a few times. But I don't think this is what's going on here. I think she's keeping something from me. I think something is wrong and Scarlett's not telling me what it is and that bothers me."

"But should it? I mean, you barely know the girl."

"Well, true, but–"

"Tell me something, Finnick, would you be bothered if Chaff or Haymitch didn't tell you something going on in their lives?"

"Of course not."

"So what makes Scarlett any different?"

"I – I don't know, Mags, it's just that we seemed like we were in so much the same place, like we were kindred spirits and–"

"You're buying into Capitol gossip, Finnick. Contrary to what it may seem, even victors aren't all instantly closer than family. We have to build our friendships just like anybody else. Sure, we have an intensely bonding experience, but Blight and I didn't instantly start sharing secrets the moment he became a mentor."

"I guess you're right, but I'm worried about her, Mags."

"You'd be a bad person if you weren't," Mags said with a small chuckle. "We're all just shells of what we could have been if our lives had gone differently. Some of us brought this on ourselves, but you and Scarlett, you didn't have a choice in the matter and I think that probably affects you both even more."

I walked back down the hall a ways, hearing more than enough, and walked back out in a much louder fashion so that they were aware someone was coming. As I expected, their voices fell silent as I drew closer and they looked up at me.

"I hope you're not going to be that loud in the arena," Finnick joked, a smile I was sure hadn't been there moments ago lighting up his handsome features. "How are you feeling? Ready for more training yet?"

I simply shrugged. Training had been a part of my life so long that even knowing the pressure of the score and the Games was coming I couldn't bring myself to get nervous about it.

I didn't know much about what I had overheard, but I could tell that Finnick was concerned about Scarlett's behavior. I could tell that he was very, very concerned about her, actually, even though Mags told him there was nothing to worry about. I hadn't seen very much of her since I was taken to the Capitol, so I wouldn't know if Mags was right or wrong, but something Mags had said really hit me: We're all just shells of what we could have been.

For some reason, I had never really thought about what happened after the arena, and how the arena affected that. What had Mags seen? How had that changed her? I knew about Finnick, about his Games and killing Stella, killing Alana, watching Lila die as her blood literally boiled in her body. Apparently several victors even slept with knives… Did Mags? Would I, if I won? Knives were certainly my preferred weapon, but would I have the types of experiences that would cause such behavior?

For the first time I began to think about who I really might have to kill, who might try to kill me. I didn't think Finley would go for me, at least not right away. He liked easy targets, and as a Career, I was already a more difficult target than many of the other tributes. However it didn't escape my mind that if he and I were still alive when it came time for the Careers to splinter off, I would likely be his first choice for a victim within the Careers.

And Ligeia… would Ligeia kill me? I wouldn't put it past her. I hadn't forgotten her cousin, driven to murdering her fellow Careers in their sleep by her paranoia and determination.

The second day of training, the confident tributes were more confident and the scared tributes were even more scared. I was starting to get more and more suspicious of Draven, who had talked to literally every female tribute in the room, and not a single male. He was certainly attractive, and I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but it was clear there was an agenda in there. I decided to try to talk to him.

"Hey," I said, joining him at traps. "My name's Luke."

"Hey," he said, not really looking at me. "Draven."

"District Ten, right?" I asked, knowing perfectly well where he was from.

"Yeah," he said. I tried to figure out what sort of a trap he was making with his rope. Perhaps something that would catch the prey by an ankle when hung from a tree? I eyed the rope with curiosity and he seemed to notice this when he finished tying the rope because he looked at me and smiled a little.

"This is called a lasso," he said with confidence. "We use them with the cattle in Ten. I can control a much larger animal than myself with this thing. I'll show you."

He took the rope, spinning it so that the round, open part spun over his head in a graceful way, then flicking his wrist so that the top of the rope headed out toward the dummies we used for target practice, allowing it to get around the neck of the dummy, down around its arms and torso before pulling the rope tight. I looked over at Draven again, taking in his impressive size, muscles, and the confidence and precision with which he had executed this demonstration. I had no doubt that he could bring down any one of us with that method, and have us at his mercy.

If I were a sponsor, I'd be supporting him with all the money I possessed and betting on him besides.

Ligeia came up to me later, which was surprising in and of itself, and she said "Come on, let's practice painting each other."

I raised my eyebrows, but I quickly deduced that she wanted us to be alone, where we couldn't be overheard.

"I saw you talking with Draven earlier," she said. "Did he try to recruit you, too?"

With a frown, I shook my head.

"Recruit me for what?"

"It's a… well, not an alliance, exactly. I think he's building up a network of supporters amongst the other tributes, people willing to carry out his dirty work for him in the other alliances and whatnot… He gave up on me pretty quickly, but some of the others… Daisy, for one, seemed completely charmed by him."

"And you think Daisy's dangerous?" I said, trying not to be amused. Maybe Ligeia was already paranoid, if this was how she was reacting to people like Daisy being charmed by someone who was clearly an attractive, charming sort of person.

"Don't underestimate anyone, Luke," she said coldly. "Scarlett Delannoy was certainly not favored to win. Forgetting that anyone can be dangerous under the right circumstances is a good way to get yourself killed."

I raised my eyebrows again, but we spent the rest of time until lunch practicing our camouflage skills in silence.

Lunch was typical, delicious food, Careers being rowdy in an attempt to scare some of the weaker, more timid competitors. Draven, I noticed, was having a quiet sort of discussion with Charlotte from District Seven, and she was giggling every five seconds.

There was something about him, Ligeia seemed to sense it too, that made me very wary, very suspicious, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. I shook my head, grabbing another roll and trying to push Draven out of my mind. I was starting to get paranoid already, as was Ligeia, and we weren't even in the arena yet. It wouldn't do to start playing the Games before they'd really begun. Or perhaps… perhaps that was a mindset of a loser. Perhaps the victors weren't paranoid because of what happened in the arena… Perhaps they were alive because they were paranoid. I wondered vaguely if my sister would have even survived, had she managed to be chosen.

My guess was no. In fact, my guess was that I wouldn't survive, either, but if I was going to, I realized, I would have to start being a little bit more paranoid. Perhaps Ligeia was right. Perhaps I needed to start looking at every single tribute as the one who might put the knife in my back, if I gave them the opportunity. Even Daisy. Even Finley. Even Ligeia.

Especially Ligeia.

So I would have to not give them the opportunity to do so. It was that simple.

The whole afternoon spent training, I was sizing up my competition, looking for how they might exploit my weaknesses, knowing it was what Ligeia was doing, what Draven was doing, what Finley was doing, what Sebastien was doing… I should have started sooner, as I only had the following morning to actually figure out what the biggest dangers would be, and I also knew that I couldn't account for people hiding skills or even the arena itself. The non-Careers could make alliances that could tear my understandings of the group at large to pieces. I could only guess and hope my guesses weren't far off from reality.

Even if my calculations and assumptions were dead on, there were some disconcerting facts to grapple with. Ligeia, for one, would not only get more sponsors than I could ever dare hope for, but she would also be more than capable of killing me, knowing and being able to exploit my every weakness. And should Sebastien or Blake set their sights on killing me, I didn't think I would have a prayer of making it. And Draven… if Draven could trap me in one of those lassos he showed me that morning, I knew I would be finished.

The question became how to overcome those particular obstacles, knowing they would not be the only ones.