Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: Yes, I know, it's a rather quick update. But this chapter pretty much wrote itself from the moment I received these two tributes. And now we're halfway through the reapings. Wow.

Thank you to TheTypeWriter001 for pointing out some missing information from the last chapter: Jai (Brie's brother) is thirteen. I went back and added that to the chapter, but, for the people who read it before that ... yeah. Thirteen. Poor kid.

Thank you to Starry-eyed dreamer86 and bobothebear for Pike and Prius, respectively.

District Six Reaping
To Walk in the Dark

Aron Meldair
Mentor, District Six

It was good to be back.

Aron always felt a bit guilty thinking that, because being back in District Six meant it was time for the Games. Time for more pain and death. But, somehow, none of that could overwhelm the feeling of coming home.

Aron had been born in District Six. Of course, that was eighty-three years ago, when the Capitol's hold on the districts wasn't so tight. Travel between the districts and the Capitol had been more common. His family had moved to the Capitol when he was seventeen, but he had returned to his district every now and then.

And, slowly, as a young man, he had seen things change. The Capitol had grown more oppressive. Travel became more difficult, and the districts grew poorer. Finally, travel between the districts and the Capitol had halted altogether, except for necessary purposes. Aron had resigned himself to living the rest of his life in the Capitol.

Then came the war. By then, he was too old to fight – for which he was grateful. Fighting on either side would have been a nightmare, because he had family and friends both in the districts and in the Capitol. Oh, there was no denying – not in his mind – that the districts had good reason to rebel, but there was also no denying their inevitable defeat. The Capitol was stronger. Wealthier. Better supplied. There was no way the rebels could have won the war.

So he had lain low. Stayed out of the fighting. But when the chance came up to mentor District Six – an opportunity no one particularly wanted – he had taken it in a heartbeat. A chance to see his district again. His people. It was a rough job – becoming attached to two children and then watching them die – but he was an old man. He was used to the idea of death. His. Theirs. It made no difference. And of course he did his best to help his tributes, but, in the end, it seemed, his job was to help them find some peace.

Vanesse Clipper, District Six's escort, forced a smile as she walked to the podium. She was tired, he knew. She was young. She didn't understand death as he did. Eight years of leading children to their doom had taken their toll on her. Still, she smiled for the cameras as she reached into the bowl and drew a name. "Lara Romane!"

The fifteen-year-old section parted, but, as a girl began to walk timidly to the stage, a voice called out, "I volunteer!"

Everyone looked around, shocked, at where the voice had come from – not from any of the children's sections, but from off to the side, from a tall, grinning girl in a shining white dress, standing next to a man in a business suit. A man who tried to grab her before she could rush to the stage.

The girl was obviously not from District Six. Her shining skin, bright red hair, and terrifying yellow eyes marked her as a Capitolite. But she was here. In the district, on reaping day. Aron glanced over at Vanesse, then at the mayor. Was this allowed?

The man – clearly the girl's father – stormed to the stage, arguing that it wasn't. His daughter insisted that it was. The treaty said "a male and female tribute." There was nothing about said tributes being born in the district they were representing. Both looked at the mayor with pleading eyes. Back in the fifteen-year-old section, Lara, the girl who had been chosen, looked on silently, hopeful.

The mayor and Vanesse had a short conversation off to the side. At last, the mayor turned back to father and daughter. "What's your name, child?"

"Prius Gazer," the girl answered.

"And how old are you, Prius?"

"Sixteen."

The mayor nodded, then answered honestly. "I don't know of any rule that would prevent you from volunteering, so—"

The father glared. "Oh, I assure you, there will be soon!" He stormed off the stage and down the street. Aron quietly wondered if it would be soon enough to help his daughter.

Prius was grinning as if she had already won the Games and was about to be showered with riches and attention. Aron shook his head quietly. She had no idea what she had just done.

Vanesse looked back at Aron, shrugging helplessly. There was nothing she could do but go on, so Aron nodded at the boys' bowl. Vanesse regained her composure, reached in, and drew a name. "Pike Carter!"

Everyone looked back toward the twelve-year-old section, where a small boy stood at the very back. The boy took a trembling step forward, but stumbled and nearly fell. Two arms reached out and caught him – a boy behind him, in the adult section, who could only have been his brother. Too old to volunteer in his place, the older boy knelt down and whispered something in his brother's ear. The child nodded, turned, and started towards the stage.

The boy was small and thin, his blue shirt and khaki pants far too big for him. His light blonde hair hung limply over his face, nearly covering his green eyes. He was trembling and holding back tears, and nearly tripped over his own baggy pants as he reached the stage. But he took his place next to Prius and stood as tall as he could.

The girl towered over him, but she reached out her hand, grinning. As he shook it, a hint of a smile came over the little boy's face. But not the same cheery, naïve smile that Prius offered him. A smile of quiet resignation.

Aron knew that smile. He saw it often in the mirror.

It was the smile of someone who knew death, and was ready to face his own.

Prius Gazer
District Six Female

At last, she had done it! She was in the Hunger Games!

She had tried last year, when they had been in District One, but a girl had volunteered before her. Here, there was no risk of that. No other volunteers. No one to get in her way.

Except her father, who sat across from her now, pleading, silently, for her not to do this. Prius' stepmother sat beside her, wordless. She had already accepted what her husband was fighting to deny: there was no way out of this.

The Games! She had dreamed about this nearly all her life. It was supposed to be a punishment for the districts, but what an opportunity! For weeks, the attention of everyone in Panem would be on a group of twenty-four children, and now she was one of them! They would all be watching her.

And then, when she won, they would cheer. They would shout. She would have everything she could wish for. Her family could stop moving around. They could settle down somewhere – maybe in the Capitol, maybe in one of the richer districts. Her father wouldn't have to work any more. She would have him all to herself.

After she won. Prius fiddled with her bright red hair, adjusting the ivory comb that was now her district token. How could she not win? The Capitol would love it – one of their citizens in the Games. They would all love her. And that was the secret. That was how tributes won, in the end. Training didn't matter. Strength didn't matter. All that mattered was how much the audience loved them.

And how could they not love one of their own?

Pike Carter
District Six Male

Cradled safely in his brother Axel's arms, Pike finally let himself cry. "Be strong," Axel had said when he had caught Pike at the reaping. It was what their father had always said, the last thing he had said to them before his execution. Before Pike had seen the life drain from his eyes, right in front of him.

And now the same thing was going to happen to him. Pike buried his face in his brother's shirt. He couldn't deny it. He had no chance. No chance at all. Even if he was older, stronger, he knew, he would never be able to kill. He could never do that to someone else.

"It'll be all right," Axel said quietly, but the words were hollow, and they both knew it. Their sister, Azure, was crying as she removed the blue band she always wore around her neck and handed it to Pike. Their mother slid two rings onto the end – her wedding ring, and her husband's. Axel fastened the band around his little brother's neck.

Pike wiped his eyes. He hated crying. He hated seeing them cry. He didn't want to leave them like this. He didn't want them to be sad. So he said the only happy thing he could think of. "It's okay – I've always wanted to see the Capitol!"

It wasn't true, of course. He had no interest in the Capitol. But Axel picked up on what he was trying to do. "I bet that Capitol man will pay even more for the car we've been fixing once he knows a tribute helped work on it!"

"And the girl – Prius – she's from the Capitol," Pike added. "I bet she can show me around and tell me all sorts of stories. It'll be fun." He smiled – a wide, toothy grin. Axel ruffled his hair, and they all sat there, trying to smile, until the Peacekeepers came.

Only once they were gone did Pike add, quietly, "I'll tell dad you said hello."

"Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."