Hello! Sorry I haven't updated in forever, but I haven't written in a while and I was just itching to!

I have decided I LOVE Fern way too much to stop this story. I'm going to continue all the through Mockingjay so we learn her story. It will include all her fellow victors and the next Hunger Games. It's going to get good so please read!

TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE NIGHT! WOO-HOO! I MAY POST ANOTHER OR TWO! I'm just buzzing with ideas, seriously!

So, please REVIEW, I must hear from everyone! Thanks to my reviewer, you rock!

Thanks for reading!

~Meghan

Chapter X

President Snow

- District 7 -

I stretch my arms over my head, taking my time to roll over and hug my pillow.

No cameras, no reporters, no Capitol. Just home. The thought brings a smile to my face. I snuggle deeper in my warm covers, delighted at the idea of spending all day in bed. For two months, District 7 has been a hub of activity. I knew it was coming, I remember going to the entertainment shows put on by the Capitol after Johanna won. The dinner victors have with high officials from the district. The performers brought in by the Capitol. The delight of getting applesauce and bags of grain during Parcel Day. All the excitement.

It's different being a victor. It means that cameras followed my every move.

There are going to be more celebrations towards the Harvest Festival, when I have to go on the Victory Tour in January. That'll mean more cameras, more interviews, more makeovers, and more smiling for the photos.

Pine has loved the attention, never passing an opportunity to be interviewed. He's always been bubblier than me, drawn to people and crowds.

But today there won't be any crowds. The interviewers have moved elsewhere. For once, I'm grateful for the Capitol's short attention span.

I'm content to fall back asleep until my bedroom door opens.

I crack an eye open, watching as Pine dances in goofily. "Good morning, Fern!" he sings. "Big day today!"

"What?" I croak, rubbing my eyes. I saw the cameras leave on the train yesterday, there aren't any events scheduled. It's only when I see Pine's newly ironed shirt that I remember: September 10th, the first day of school. Summer has come to an end. It would've been my final year of school before working at the paper factory full-time. This was supposed to be my last first day of school.

It seemed like such a boring future at the time. Now it feels like a distant dream meant for another life.

"Nice shirt," I finally say, trying to escape my thoughts.

Pine grins. "Thank you for getting it."

I sit up with a sleepy smile. "You don't need to keep thanking me, I was happy to get it." I have too much money as it is, anyway.

"Will you walk me? Just like always?" Pine asks. His hazel eyes glow with happiness.

I can't say no to his smile, so I make myself get up and brush my teeth. My hair looks like a mess, making me pull on a knit hat, smoothing down the ends. I've just managed to pull on jeans and a plain blouse when Pine yells up the stairs that he'll be late if we don't leave. I hurry down the stairs to find Mama kissing Pine on the forehead, which he makes a fuss over. Behind them, the television is switch on.

Caesar Flickerman is talking over a scene of me dancing back at one of the parties.

"Caesar's been talking about you all morning, Fern," Mama tells me. "Apparently red hair is the current trend in the Capitol."

I scoff, rolling my eyes. Of course it is. "We're off to school."

Mama gives my shoulder a squeeze, telling us to be safe as we head out the door.

Outside, the sun shines hopefully in a cloudless blue sky. I take a deep breath, inhaling the earthy smell the permeates District 7. Soon the trees will turn to their autumnal oranges and purples. The winter is always bitter here, but for the first time I find myself looking forward to it. The arena was hot, desolate under the sweltering sun. I'll take cloudy days with snow for the rest of my life if I can.

"It'll be weird without you there," Pine says solemnly as we walk.

"I'll be there to pick you up if you want," I offer. We usually walked home separately with our own groups. Pine would go with his many friends to do their homework or play games outside. I would go off to Vidar's house, Joan in tow gossiping about this and that, before my work shift. Thinking about Joan and Vidar makes me sigh. I wonder if the desk I usually sat in will be empty now.

Pine smiles over at me. "It's okay. Syran and I were going to go the market. Now that I have an allowance I wanted to get us some snacks to celebrate the start of school."

I nod. "That sounds great."

As we weave our way into town, people start to glance over and smile. Some wave. I try to return their smiles, even though I barely recognize any of them. It's strange how becoming a victor makes everyone stop and stare. Victor here in 7 is synonymous with survivor. I lived through what I wasn't supposed to. I've become one of seven symbols of hope for our district.

Pine notices too, his eyes following them, but he doesn't comment on it. Once we get to the school, he punches my arm jokingly.

"Wish me luck!" he says.

I laugh. "Good luck, Pine."

With that, he turns and dashes towards the other kids walking to their classes. Some watch me and whisper to their friends. A couple stare, slack-jawed. I consider waiting to say hello to Joan and Vidar, but all the people glancing at me, trying to be surreptitious, make me turn and start the trek back to the Victor's Village.

The Victors Village is somewhere I'd seen before but never crossed through the gate of. The whole thing has twelve mansions in a semi-circle, all made of gleaming white marble. In the center is a grassy area with a bubbling fountain. Surrounding it is a thick forest, and an iron fence encircling the area. I'm glad it's so far from the noisy bustle of town but something eerie exists around the Victor's Village.

I realized what is is the third week I was here: the circle of houses around the golden fountain looks too much like the Cornucopia.

"Hey, Fern!"

Broken from my thoughts, I squint to see Rasp waving from his porch. Axel sits next to him, a bottle in his hand.

For a moment I hesitate. Even after the couple months I've been here, I still get nervous to talk to my fellow victors sometimes. Sometimes just being around them makes me think about the Games all over again. They're survivors like me, something I want to take solace in but find myself unable to.

I finally walk towards the two, climbing the stone steps up to Rasp's porch.

He smiles, patting the shepherd dog at his feet. The dog's ears perk up as I approach and Rasp shakes his head. "Ruby, it's just Fern. You've seen her before."

"Hey, Ruby," I say softly, gingerly putting out my hand for her to sniff.

"Out for a walk?" Rasp asks me.

I shake my head, leaning against one of the marble pillars. "I was walking my little brother to school. It's the first day of classes."

"Oh, that's right," Rasp says with a nod. "I definitely don't miss class. So many boring lectures on types of saws and the lifespan of trees."

Silence passes between the three of us for moment. Axel just sits there, sometimes tipping the bottle up to his lips. His gray eyes are focused on something past me, not bothering to acknowledge my being there. Axel and I haven't spoken much. He tends to keep to himself, but usually he's a bit more chatty than this. Maybe this is just how he's dealing with something going on in his head that we can't hear.

Rasp notices me watching and tries to change the conversation. "Do you want a drink, Fern? I can get you something."

I shake my head. "I'm okay. I don't really drink."

Rasp waves his hand. "Me neither. Took two years I barely remember before I stopped."

"They didn't kill us in the arena, but that doesn't mean there aren't things I wouldn't mind not remembering," Axel pipes up.

I wince.

Rasp notices, and shoots Axel a look. "You really don't need to quote Johanna. We all know what she thinks."

"Well," Axel says quietly, not bothering to reply. He sets his bottle down. "I have a train to catch."

"Where are you going?" I ask curiously.

"He has other engagements," Rasp says simply.

"Like what?" I persist, regretting my words when Axel gives me a scowl. I open my mouth to apologize, shocked, but he turns away first.

Axel's face softens. "Don't worry about it." He heads down the marble steps without looking back at either of us. Wherever he's going, he apparently doesn't need to bring luggage, because he heads out of the Victor's Village without a single bag.

"He's going to the Capitol," Rasp finally says once Axel has walked out of view.

I knit my brows together. "Oh." It's normal for the victors to go to the Capitol - but it's by invite only. They'll show them on television attending this party, that dinner, sneaking out of the apartment of this citizen, that sort of stuff. It's all the gossip Joan eats up. "Why didn't he just say so?"

Rasp glances down at Ruby, petting her dark ears. His forehead crinkles for a moment as if he's weighing his words carefully. He's always looked young for being in his fifties, but during this moment he looks even older, likes decades of life is weighing his shoulders down to sag. "Sorry about his attitude," Rasp finally says. "It's just not a good day." When he looks up, he furrows his dark brows and glances towards the fountain.

I follow his line of sight and realize it's not the fountain he's staring at. Beyond it, on the roof of my house, a hovercraft is landing. It's invisibility cloak is shutting off, half of the aircraft still blending in with the treetops behind it.

Without another word I immediately leap off Rasp's porch.

My feet hit the ground as hard as my heart seems to be beating. I thought the Capitol was done with me for now. There can only be one person that they'd bring in by hovercraft unannounced.

I yank my house's front door open, slamming it behind me. "Mama!"

She appears around the corner of the sitting area, confusion written across her face. "Fern? What in the world is-"

"He's here!"

I draw in a breath that tears at my throat. At least Pine is at school, at least my brother's not here when he will be.

"Who-" Mama begins before there's a knock at the door.

I jerk away from it, stumbling back. My heartbeat roars in my ears. "President Snow," I whisper.

Something about the idea of him being here feels violating. This house is supposed to be my home now, it's supposed to be the place I can go when I want to be alone with my family. He isn't supposed to be here. I don't want this house to have any reminder of President Snow and the Games.

Mama squares her shoulders. "I'm sure nothing is wrong." Her voice sounds much more assured than mine, but I don't protest as she steps forward and opens the door, letting sunlight fall into our foyer.

Outside on the porch stands a raven-haired woman in a sleek outfit made of what looks like purple crocodile skin. A single gem is implanted in her cherry-red lips and in her arms is a tablet. Around her stand a squad of Peacekeepers. Each one has a hand placed on the gun in their holsters.

Relief washes over me. I was wrong. President Snow isn't with them. Maybe this is just a normal visit the victors go through that isn't shown on television.

"Hello, Ms. Redwood," the woman says, her voice deep and silky. "Would you mind if we come in?"

Obviously saying no isn't allowed. So Mama opens the door even wider. "Of course."

The woman steps forward, and her heels click on the wooden flooring. "Thank you." Her eyes turn towards me from behind glasses, taking in my plain outfit and messy hair. If she's disappointed in my attire she doesn't show it. "Good morning, Miss Redwood. I take it you're doing well."

I swallow, my throat feeling like paper. "Yes. Good morning."

She surveys our house. "Are you both the only ones home today?"

"Yes," Mama says quickly. "My son is at school."

The woman looks past me, unsmiling. Then she presses something on her tablet, nodding towards one of the Peacekeepers.

There's a noise behind me and I spin around.

Standing at the top of the stairs, a Peacekeeper comes down the steps, standing aside. My heartbeat picks up the pace, and I know that my first assumption about my visitor had been right. Whoever this woman is was just surveying everything. But I was right.

I wish I wasn't.

President Snow stands at the top of the stairs, a smile on his puffy lips. "Hello, Miss Redwood," he says. "Are you enjoying your new home?"

- The Lounge -

"This has always been my favorite room in all the mansions," President Snow says. He peers out the large bay windows, admiring a bluebird that flits past. The president picks up his teacup, taking a sip. "I designed these houses, you know."

I blink from my place in one of the cushioned chairs. "I didn't know that." I squeeze my hands together in my lap.

President Snow turns and smiles. "Well it was a long time ago. Much earlier before you were born, and your mother too. These Games go back many generations now."

I don't say anything. He still hasn't revealed why he's decided to make an appearance. I'm guessing it isn't every day that President Snow takes a joyride out to the districts. But so far, he's just sipped tea here in the lounge with the door closed. Mama is somewhere in the house entertaining the crocodile-clothed woman. Still. I know enough about President Snow to know that he doesn't do anything unless he can get something out of it.

So what is it he wants now?

"I like to visit my victors," President Snow says. He sets his teacup down, going to sit across from me. He leans back, kicking a leg up to cross over the other knee, completely at ease.

I feel like every one of my muscles are taut. It's as if I'm going to run out any second. But we both know that's not an option.

"There's no need to be so quiet, Miss Redwood," he says. "Where's the talkative girl from the arena? The Capitol does love her so."

I bite my tongue. I'm not sure what I'll say if I open my mouth.

"You were quite the underdog," President Snow says in such a thoughtful tone that I look him in the eyes. His are so dark and destructive that they have a trance-like quality to them. Something shinier, as if he knows a joke that I don't. They remind me of bark-beetles, those little insects that gnaw through our trees before we can cut them down. "I don't think most people were expecting you to win. I actually thought you died there at the bloodbath."

I stiffen at the mention of it. "Yes. I was lucky."

President Snow tilts his head curiously. "Luck, is it?"

"I used to chop fire logs for my family," I say softly. "We all know how to do it here." People aren't that much different in the end.

He hums in thought. "Quite fortunate for you. But it was an entertaining turn of events. I know many were disappointed at the betting pools. So many of them had been betting on your two final competitors. I think you surprised most of us when you took the crown. I must admit, I had expected the boy from Four to win."

"Sorry it was me," I blurt before I can stop myself. I freeze, terrified at the bitter tone in my voice. I know he's heard it.

But President Snow just chuckles. "There's that confidence we saw in the arena. The fire that led you to victory. Incredible isn't it, those things that make a difference in who survives and who doesn't?"

I make myself nod. "Yes."

"It doesn't stop with the arena thought, does it?" President Snow asks. He smiles again. "There are so many games we all play in life. We all have a role to play. What do you think yours is?"

I don't look away from his shiny eyes as I think. The answer seems obvious. I'm whatever a victor is. But I know the answer is something even more than that. "My part is whatever it needs to be."

"Perceptive," President Snow says, inclining his head once. "Yes, Miss Redwood. Victors have a special place in our Panem, special responsibilities that others don't have. You're a daughter of the Capitol now."

I dig my nails into my palms. I will never be anything to the Capitol except a girl who won the Hunger Games. I don't want to be anything to them.

"The citizens there need you to play your role well," President Snow goes on.

I pause, glancing down at the ornate rug beneath us. "What role is that?"

"Exactly as you did in the arena."

I glare at the rug. Kill people? Ruin their betting pools on our lives? But his words from before come to me, and I look up at him. "To entertain them."

"Yes." President Snow's eyes crinkle happily as he smiles. "To entertain them. The relationship between the Capitol and the districts is a delicate one. Victors help hold it together."

"How am I supposed to entertain them?" I ask. Wasn't it enough that they tried to kill me?

President Snow smiles a bit wider. "There are so many ways. I know many would love to meet Fern Redwood. So many would pay highly to have the company of such a... successful victor."

I frown despite myself. Meet them? Have their company? "You... you want me to befriend them?"

He chuckles as if there's a punchline I'm not understanding. "Yes. Yes I do. Many victors are desirable, Miss Redwood."

I'm silent for a beat. The Capitol citizens pay to hang out with victors? They consider us desirable to befriend? Why would-

My heart suddenly skips a beat. I clench my fists even tighter, and I feel my fingernails piercing the skin. Company and befriend. They're such innocuous words, but now I understand the implication. The way Axel sat on the porch staring at nothing this morning, how Rasp didn't want to give me an explanation... How could I have been so naïve?

"You want me to be a prostitute," I say, meeting those eyes I've come to hate. My words are blunt but they don't seem to affect him at all.

"Prostitute is such a common word," he responds. "It's not suiting of a victor."

I feel blood rushing up to my face. Whether it's from embarrassment or anger, I'm not sure. "I can't."

President Snow smiles again at me. "No?" He glances towards the bay windows. "Tell me, Miss Redwood, are you familiar with Haymitch Abernathy?"

I frown in confusion at the sudden topic shift. "He's the victor from District Twelve," I finally say, playing along.

"Yes. He won the last Quart Quell, back in the Fiftieth Hunger Games. Quite the spirited young man. Not unlike yourself." By the way he smiles it looks like a compliment, but from his tone I can tell it's anything but. "He figured out a brilliant little trick by bouncing a rock off the arena's force field. It was how he won, and how the final tribute from District One ended up dead. It was a fatal mistake."

I swallow. I'm not sure where he's going with the story, but my stomach begins to knot itself.

President Snow sighs quietly. "It was so sad for Mr. Abernathy when he returned home. You see, his mother and little brother were dead. Even his girlfriend, too. Quite unfortunate for him. An orphan at seventeen."

My blood runs cold.

"You have a little brother, don't you?" President Snow asks, even though we both know the answer is yes. "Almost twelve years old? Ah, so young. Just nearly of age for the reaping."

"He didn't do anything," I spit, hating how desperate my voice has become.

President Snow smiles with his puffy lips. "As I said, it's incredible what little things make a difference in who survives and who doesn't."

It feels like the world is tilting for a moment, turning and turning until we'll all fall over. But when bile rises in my throat I force it back down.

"I'll see you again during your Victory Tour." He sits up. "We'll have time to talk again." Then when he gets up, he pulls a black box the size of my palm from his pocket. "For you, Miss Redwood. I do hope you'll wear it. Take it as my gift for you on your stunning victory."

I take the box in shaking hands, and I can tell he's waiting for me to open it so I do. Inside, sitting on a bed of dark velvet, sits a delicate gold chain. Attached to it is a little golden charm in the shape of an ax. I feel my stomach roil.

"Do take care, Miss Redwood."

With that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

I don't move until I hear the footsteps going up the stairs. Then I launch myself towards the wastebasket and vomit up everything in my stomach.

- Roof of Victor's Mansion -

It's nearly a full moon tonight.

Almost twelve years old? Ah, so young. Just nearly of age for the reaping.

I close my eyes, burying my head between my knees. The image of Pine walking up the steps of the stage to the Justice Building won't stop playing in my head. His name being pulled from a reaping ball of slips - slips of paper that only have his name. My little brother being shipped to the Capitol and to the arena.

Isn't that bad luck? the Capitol would say, a whole family to go into the Hunger Games.

Snow was so obvious with the threat. I guess that's a perk of being the president of Panem. It's his word against mine.

I open my eyes, resting my chin on my knees. My arms are around my legs, sitting curled up in a ball on the porch's roof. When I opened the window above it, I was able to sit just outside on the shingles, still warm from today's sunshine. It has to be past midnight by now, though. I had walked out of the lounge after throwing up and brushed my teeth. Then I smiled for Mama and simply told her that President Snow wanted to wish me well. That is was just a friendly visit. I showed her the necklace.

Leave it to Snow to give me a piece of jewelry with the weapon I used to kill two tributes. Two other kids.

My stomach pitches but there isn't anything more to throw up.

I watch the thin clouds drift overhead, breathing out as a cool breeze sweeps across my neck. I didn't bother to bring a blanket outside. It's still warm enough to just enjoy the night as is. District 7 is asleep, the electricity shut off. We have power all the time here in the Victor's Village but old habits die hard. Mama and Pine are asleep after two hours of Pine talking about his day. He and his friends got pastries afterwards to celebrate. I kept up a smile the whole time.

At least one of us should be able to have a normal life. A good life. One where he doesn't have to worry about nightmares or the Capitol.

But what's my life now? A prostitute for Capitol citizens? The thought makes me want to burst out into tears. Never have I felt so young as right now, not even when I stood on my podium in the arena. I'm only eighteen. I haven't even had a boyfriend yet. And now Snow wants to sell my body.

It makes me have more sympathy for Axel this morning. No wonder he was on edge.

Has Snow demanded this from the other victors, too? Was Striker used like this back in his younger days? What about Blight? The thought of Johanna possibly being sold by Snow makes my heart ache. I know it's not a question I can ask my former mentor. I don't think I want to.

An owl flies past me, close enough so that I can hear its feather rustling, before settling on the top of the golden fountain. It cranes its neck around, hooting softly. In an instant, it takes off, spreading its wide wings and soaring away into the distant trees.

I sigh. I wish I could grow wings and carry Mama and Pine away.

I don't know how long I sit up there on the porch's roof, but soon the black night melts into navy, then blue, purple, and finally a dark rosy gold. The moon vanishes like the owl behind the trees, and the birds start singing. My eyelids finally droop and I start thinking about my bed more than I think about President Snow's shiny, calculating eyes.

It's odd. Snow hasn't always been the president, he hasn't always been so much older than the rest of us. He was eighteen once, too. It's hard to imagine him ever being an innocent child. It's even harder to imagine President Snow existing in a world without the Games. But he did. He even told me himself.

"A world without the Hunger Games," I murmur.

A bird lands on the windowsill further down. It sings a note, as if replying, its little head turning quickly in different directions.

"I said 'a world without the Hunger Games.'" I smile drowsily at the little yellow bird. "It's a nice dream, isn't it?"

The bird hops a few steps before flying away, just as free as the owl.

I give the dawn one final look before turning and crawling back through the window.