Trainrides Part 3:

Hidden Worthiness:

Margery Kelta – District 8 Female

She was going to stay hidden until dinner, Margery decided. The best way to do that was undoubtedly to stay in her quarters, but she couldn't bring herself to do that, not when that would be the first place anyone would look for her and she needed time. She'd darted into her quarters almost as soon as the Escort had left them alone, giving the impression that she was planning on staying there. Now, only about five minutes later, she bolted, emerging from the quarters.

The corridors of the train didn't possess the jerky motion she'd been expecting. Rather, she could scarcely feel the motion beneath her feet. So much the better. She strode forward, past what was probably Leoric's quarters and then onward past other quarters. She didn't understand why these trains needed to be so large. It was probably a lavish expense of the Capitol. Maybe it was so the Mentors, the Capitol's little lap dogs, could escape their tributes and their responsibilities at their leisure.

She strode swiftly through the uninhabited dining room and past another series of quarters. Then entered a large room, unlike any in which she had ever stepped foot before. From floor to ceiling it was covered in mirrors. Her face looked back at her from every which way. There weren't even any windows to escape it.

Margery stared at the floor, uncomfortably averting her gaze, but even there her reflection met her, a maddening, furious image.

"What do you see?" a voice came from behind her and she turned, half expecting to be met by her own face, thinking she may have gone mad, or fallen asleep only to awake in her own bed in a nightmare.

But the face before her was scarcely familiar and certainly not her own. Framed between her face on either side of him a silver-haired man had slunk in the room. He was slender, skeletal even, his frame taller than hers by nearly a foot.

"Do you know me?" the man's voice questioned, returning Margery to her senses.

"Of course," she spat, her fury raging at him. "Where were you earlier? At the Reapings? It's your job to be there, your responsibility. Where were you?"

"The least you could do is say my name before you begin your barrage of insults, Margery."

"Don't act as though you know me," she spat back, her faces all enraged, circling Cassius's singular face, outnumbering him in sheer force. She knew his name, of course, all of District Eight knew the name, the face of their unworthy first Victor. "You know nothing."

"You're wrong," Cassius simply stated, his tone vexingly even. "I was at the Reaping this morning."

"Where? Are you a phantom lurking in the shadows? Do you think you're going to be any use to me there?"

"Yes. Now, what do you see?"

"No, don't change the subject. I want an answer, a real answer. Tell me how you're going to help me!"

"I'll help you see."

"I'm not blind! What makes your ludicrous mind think that I need help seeing?! I can see better than you can, old man. You with your silver hair and your mangled ideas tell me how you're going to help me get out of this alive."

"Margery, you see what you want to see now. A mirror can help you to see what really is."

"What was I supposed to see this morning? A coward who can't even be bothered to show up at the Reapings now that he's got his successor?"

"Correction, someone you didn't see at the Reapings."

" That's your only defense? That I didn't see you? NO ONE saw you! You were supposed to be beside Wolfgang onstage and you were nowhere to be found. You abandoned me and your entire district!"

"As you said, I did not know you. How, then, could I have abandoned you if we'd not yet forged a relationship? As for my district, I was there."

Margery stared at him, dumbfounded at his madness. How had Wolfgang survived his mentorship without going utterly mad, she wondered? More importantly, how would she?

"I want Wolfgang to mentor me," she demanded, her response as simple as his 'yes' had been. Without another word, she stormed from the room, only to run directly into Leoric.

"Don't go in there. He's a madman," she declared by means of a warning. She heard the door open and close behind her, but Margery simply turned her back and set off to find Wolfgang.

Her task didn't require much effort. Wolfgang was seated in the dining car, as though he was waiting for her.

"Cassius found you?" he asked before she could say anything.

"He's a lunatic. You're mentoring me," she declared, taking a seat beside him.

"Very well. You're sure that's what you want?"

"On the condition that it doesn't involve staring at mirrors and circular conversations. If that's the case, I'll go mentorless."

"Not at all," Wolfgang replied. "Out of curiosity, what did you see in the mirrors?"

"Someone who needed to get out of my way. No more mirrors," Margery demanded. Wolfgang nodded.

"No more mirrors," he agreed, his voice unreadable.

Gloria Leeper – District Twelve

"What's the Capitol like?" Tanner asked as they continued dinner. Gloria could barely focus on the conversation, barely felt she could handle anything beyond the simple act of shoveling food into her mouth and chewing it. Everything was more savory than anything she had ever tasted, than any food she had even dared to imagine. It almost made the thought of the Games seem distant, as though they weren't on a train bringing them faster and faster to the end of the line, to the Capitol that Tanner spoke of so lightly.

"It's everything you could imagine," Aphrodite said soothingly. Her voice was honeyed with pity, Gloria realized as she watched their mentor bite her lower lip, looking off into the distance, doing everything in her power not to look into the eyes of the two children in front of her. She'd never done this before and it showed.

She'd probably never had much experience with hardship, she thought, never had someone she cared about suffer before.

"You're allowed to have more," Aphrodite said, changing the subject. She must have noticed that Gloria had stopped eating.

"I was just enjoying the taste of it," Gloria said honestly. "Does everything the Capitol makes taste like this."

"Some of it's even better. I'll make sure you get to try it all before . . ." she trailed off again and there was that look. It was the same look that had flashed across Cindy's face the first moment she had seen the older boys picking on Gloria in the school yard. That look had quickly been followed by fury, though, rage, a rage that had protected Gloria. The girl kept waiting for that change to happen now, hoping that this Capitol woman would somehow come through for her just as Cindy had.

"Will we be working as a team, since you're our only mentor?" Tanner asked, politely. To Gloria's disappointment it seemed as though he'd dropped the small talk and they were now getting down to business, actually planning for the Games. Gloria would have rather waited, would rather have focused on anything besides what was to come, but now that Tanner had breached the subject she had no choice.

"We can explore our options," Aphrodite said evasively. "I don't see where either of you has a strong advantage over the other, so we can explore your options as a team. Since you know each other and are from the same district . . ."

"We don't know each other," Tanner corrected her, holding his hand up to stop her. "Do you just assume that everyone in District Twelve knows everyone else? I've seen her around, yes, but we didn't know each others' names until we stepped onto that stage."

"I'm sorry, my mistake," Aphrodite apologized, clearly taken aback.

"And, you'll forgive me, but as far as the Games are considered, no offense Gloria, but I think I have some advantage over a twelve year old."

"That may be," Aphrodite granted, her words fumbling. Gloria awaited the mumbled defense that she assumed was coming. She wouldn't even look up at Tanner, but forced a smile, like she always did when the bullies spat biting words at her, when the children in the middle of the room would point at her and whisper. When they called her names like "duckbill" she tried to keep a smile on. She could do that now to.

"There's a hidden talent in everyone, Tanner," Aphrodite declared, her voice suddenly stronger. "That is one of my firmest beliefs and no talent should be underestimated, especially in a contest where to be defeated is to die and there is only one victor."

"I thoroughly agree," Tanner smirked, leaning back in his chair. Gloria perked up. Was he really accepting what their mentor was saying? Would he work with her? She brought her gaze back to the ground again, wondering if she wanted to ally with him, if she trusted him.

She hesitated, thought, and looked out the window.

"I don't think we should be allies," she found herself saying, almost without even realizing it.

"Okay," Aphrodite nodded. "I agree that your talents may lie in separate directions. Remember, though, nothing is set in stone. If the two of you do somehow come together, I think you could be a great team."

"Let's not be tentative about this," Tanner said, politely, but firmly. "These are our lives that are on the line. I know you're from the Capitol and it's your first year, but we need you on our side because one of us," Tanner paused, the room waiting for him to continue. "One of us," he repeated for effect as Gloria turned her gaze back to the window. "One of us is going home."

"Yes you are," Aphrodite readily agreed and Gloria shuttered, wondering if there was anyone in the room who she could really trust, even herself.

Raivel Aukins District Three Male Tribute:

"We should watch the Reapings, size up the competition!" Leunam suggested almost as soon as they'd gotten on the train.

And so they had. They had just seen themselves on the screen, but so far, Raivel had noted, their mentor didn't seem to have his entire attention on the screen. Raivel was almost certain their mentors, or at least Leunam, were already sizing them up, already evaluating their strengths and weaknesses based on their responses.

Ailis had sat attentively, her eyes fixed on the screen. She grew more and more anxious with each passing district, playing with the place on her finger where her ring should have been, the ring he had stolen back at the Reapings.

"I don't look as frightened as I felt," Ailis broke the silence, as the camera zoomed out on their district. Raivel smirked to himself. The girl had looked terrified, especially after the reactions of District One and Two. He didn't care how he looked though; being young and seeming innocent would work in his advantage no doubt. Everyone would overlook him, ignore him until it came to the point where he would tip the scales in his favor.

"How do you feel about your performance at the Reapings, Raivel?" Iris pried. That took Raivel off guard. Didn't Leunam want them focused on the screen, watching their future opponents march to the stage instead of engaged in self-evaluation? Leunam was still engaged with the screen and seemed to have no interest in Iris's questioning.

Raivel decided it would be more prudent to pay attention to the screen, especially when a shiny diamond made an appearance in the District Four male's hand as they boarded their train.

"Raivel, I asked you a question," Iris prodded as the screen began to transition to District Five.

"Aren't we supposed to be analyzing our opponents, not ourselves?" he responded respectfully, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"They're both equally important. You're not just stuck in the arena with 23 other tributes, you know. You're stuck in there with yourself, making decisions for yourself. Even if you're with a group of allies, ultimately, the person you need to know the best in the Games is the one whose life you're fighting to save," Iris commented.

"Iris, District Five's up," Leunam reprimanded. "You can psychoanalyze the tributes later."

'The tributes', Raivel thought as girl from five, obviously a product of the streets, took the stage. To Leunam obviously they were just names, part of a calculation. Well, his mentor wouldn't be able to calculate Raivel's victory. He'd probably already written him off, and maybe it was better that way. Like Iris had said, once they were in the games, it was every tribute for himself. Raivel had the advantage there, he thought, smirking as a people-pleasing goner joined the girl on District Five's stage. He might not have Leunam's brilliance or Iris's outright cunning, skills that had been earned them endless praise in District Three, but he had his own skills, abilities that had kept him alive his entire life.

"I don't want to watch the rest of this!" Ailis said suddenly. Leunam turned to her, interested, but said nothing.

"Ailis, it's strategically advantageous to assess the competition," Iris reprimanded her. "The Reapings are the only time you really get a glimpse of the person they are, before they know the cameras are on them. Especially that first second. Look, right there. Watch that girl, in the eighteen year old section. They're about to call her name."

Iris was pointing to a dark haired girl, one who would surely be the tribute from District Six. There wouldn't be a volunteer, Raivel knew. In the first four districts, it was a possibility, maybe even a probability in one and two, but not once you passed district Five.

"I don't want to," Ailis commanded, just as the name was called. She rose, not in hysterics, not in tears, simply in a matter of fact manner that could only be brought on by exposure to power. Raivel sat there smirking at the television, twirling Ailis's ring hidden in his pocket. She thought she was so powerful, so in charge, but it had left her just as powerless as those tributes whose names were just now being called, just as powerless as he himself was in the face of the Reapings, in the face of the Capitol's vengeance.

The only difference was he knew how to unleash the power of powerfulness, he knew his own hidden worthiness.

District Six – Jayanti Hoek

"What do you think of the Careers?" the question jarred Jayanti even though it wasn't directed at him. This girl had to be insane. they had just finished watching the last of the Career districts' tributes pick a fight with each other and, while Jayanti had next to no other opinion about who he might ally with, he knew it would never be the Careers.

"That is not what you want to do," Joran declared emphatically, jumping up from his restful place on the couch.

"But they could be helpful," Tavia started to argue. "Didn't you just say we should look for strong allies?"

"There's strength, brute force and stupidity. Stay clear of the careers and keep your eyes fixed on the screen." Joran was getting impatient, his voice quickly rising.

Ava sighed beside Jayanti as their district came and went in the blink of an eye. She missed it. "There we are," Tavia reflected, nothing more than a passing comment.

It flattened Jayanti how quick she was to say "we". She'd been including him subconsciously in every word she'd said though they had yet to speak directly to each other. She may have tried if he'd been more approachable, but he was simply ready for her to do whatever she needed, ready to be whatever she needed, or whatever Ava told him to be.

So far, however, Ava hadn't instructed him at all. He was just assuming she would be mentoring him since Joran seemed to be taking Tavia under his wing, at least as much as he could take anyone under his wing. Their younger mentor had all of the potential energy of a ball at it's climax, unpredictable and apt to bounce in any direction. Even now Joran's foot was ceaseless in keeping the tempo as the pair in seven appeared before them, the little girl terrified and the boy seeming to know too much for his own good.

"Watch her!" Joran exclaimed, bouncing up again as the girl from eight took the stage.

"Joran, settle down," Ava reprimanded him. "It's bad enough that we have to watch these, do you really have to be poking at every single one of them?"

"Yes, Ava, it's my job," he snapped impatiently. "The boy looks promising too."

"The girl's only fifteen," Tavia argued.

"Don't be too quick to judge on that," Joran corrected her.

"I could say the same to you," Ava remarked back and Joran threw up his hands in frustration.

"What do you want from me, Ava? This is what I do, what we're supposed to do to buy time, buy fate, whatever you have until it's actually in our hands."

"You mean out of our hands," Ava corrected, staring him down. Joran sighed and made an effort to sit still. Jayanti could tell this was an argument that they'd had over and over for the past five years. Familiar, like dance steps, like the routines he and his friends had, except different somehow.

"I'm not going to tell you what I think of him," Joran commented as a District 9 boy swaggered onto the stage. As districts 10, 11 and 12 came and went a pin could have dropped in the room and echoed to eternity. As the Capitol anthem flashed across the screen Joran turned his back and Ava rose from where she was sitting beside Jayanti.

"Jori," she whispered something in his ear and they exchanged hushed words for a moment and Joran nodded, shook his head.

"Tavia, let's go," he said, ushering her to one of the other cars without another word.

Once they were gone Ava returned to her seat beside Jayanti, her face serious.

"What did you think?" she let the question trail off, open for whatever he could say, but Jayanti only looked at his feet. What did he think? He was going to be in the Hunger Games, thinking shouldn't be permitted. Thinking got people killed. No, he thought, thinking for themselves was how the Victor emerged. But he could never do that.

"They're pretty scary, aren't they?" Ava pried when he didn't respond. She was still wearing the same pink dress she had worn at the Reaping, giving him a look that made it impossible to believe the same woman who sat beside him had actually won the second Hunger Games, had commanded an alliance that dominated the arena until it was decimated by a meteor and then had turned on her district partner to claim the crown. Everyone in the district knew of Ava's victory and prided in sharing the tail, but he couldn't believe that woman sat beside him, encouraging him. She surely had better things to be doing. By the way this conversation was going she would declare him a lost cause within the next five minutes.

"I'm not giving up on you," she declared. Jayanti was taken aback; it was as though she had read his thoughts.

"You don't care, I can see that, but I won't accept it."

"Why do you say that?" Jayanti finally asked, lifting his eyes from the floor, but refusing to meet hers.

"You haven't cared for a very long time. You let people use you, walk all over you because you think that's all you're good at. That's not going to happen here. I chose you, Jayanti. I think you're worth bringing back alive and I will bring you back alive. I haven't said that to a single tribute yet, but I will bring you back."

"Why?" Jayanti scooted away from her, surprised by her passion. She'd known him for a handful of hours. "Why do you care?"

"Because you are my last tribute," she said, determinedly. "Think of who you want for allies and we'll approach them in the training area. And don't come back telling me you don't want any" There was no room for arguing in her voice, so he let it go, but Jayanti knew deep down no one in the arena would deem him worthy to be their ally. The only one who saw any worthiness in him was sitting beside him on this train.