I know this has been a long time coming and I doubt many people would have persevered, but I said I'd complete this story and I will. So here's the next chapter. The Games have finally arrived!

The Night Before and The Morning After

'So I hear I have competition,' was the statement Clara was met with when she entered Avalon's dressing room, where the letter had directed her.

'Don't speak to me about competition, please. I've already had enough to last me a lifetime.'

'I'm not going to let you make me uncomfortable. I'm here to say one thing and one thing alone. I snuck out of 2 and straight into the Capitol. Believe me it wasn't easy, so could you please do me a favour, and just stop talking for the next couple of minutes.'

If there was one thing Enjolras could do, it was make people listen to him.

Enjolras walked over to Clara and took her hand.

'I'm so sorry this happened to you, and I wish there was something I could do to stop it.'

'There's no point…'

'Clara, please,' Enjolras wanted to say everything he wanted to before Clara's newfound pessimism got in the way. What happened to the girl who gave the children in the Seam a chance to escape their poverty if only for a short time? What happened to the little girl who Enjolras loved for her fearlessness to say exactly what was on her mind, and not care what anyone thought of her as a consequence?

Of course, Enjolras knew the answer. The Games change everyone; they were just getting an early start on Clara.

'And I can't. Stop it, I mean. I….'

Sometimes even expert rhetoric falls apart when confronted by such an important moment.

'Clara, I'm going to do everything I can to get you out of there. Granted there isn't much, but everything I am capable of, I've probably already done it. This sounds cliché but I believe in you, I honestly think you have a chance of escaping the arena. And then…..'

'Then what?' Clara finally spoke.

'Then we're getting out of here. Out of Panem, out of the Districts where nothing can come between us.'

'You're forgetting your best friend, and everyone in 12 I'd be leaving behind. Not to mention your friends and your mother in 2.'

'They can come too!' Enjolras got caught up in the moment. 'Panem isn't the only place on earth, contrary to what some people might think. There has to be a place where society has no divisions, everyone has equal rights and oppurtunties. And if there isn't, then I plan on making one.'

'Making a country?' Clara couldn't help smiling.

'More like an ideal, the most important aspect of every country is the people. Especially if they suffer injustice or poverty, revolutions happen for a reason.'

'You want to make your own revolution?'

'No, the people make a revolution. The only thing I can do is lead them. Wait a minute, we have gone completely off topic.'

'There's a topic? Seriously Enjolras this is exactly what I need. People are either congratulating me or just hovering around me as if I'll break at a single touch. Just you, talking to me as you always do about your dreams, it's one of the things I love most in the world.'

'And what I love most in the world is about to face a trial no human being should ever have to endure.'

'Enjolras….'

'There is no one in Panem who doesn't despise the hypocrisy and horrors of the Capitol, the Games being a perfect example. They take from the Districts, take and take and take, and we never get anything in return. I know 2 is better off probably than all of the outlying Districts put together, but we still know our place is firmly below that of the Capitol. The looks my father and I get here, it's like we're nothing but the scum on the bottom of their overpriced shoes from 8. They…..'

Clara silenced him with a kiss. Gentle and tender, but with enough passion for Enjolras to know how much it meant to her. It was a long time before they pulled apart.

'I have to go; everyone will wonder where I am. I just had to do that, once, at least.'

'No complaints from me,' Enjolras smiled, still holding her close to him, with their foreheads touching. Neither could wipe that smile from their faces. In that moment, the Capitol meant nothing. They belonged to each other, and that was something the Capitol could not take away from them.

'I can't keep Grantaire waiting any longer,' she concluded.

With a deep breath Clara stepped away from Enjolras but he suddenly took hold of her arm.

'What?' she asked with confusion.

'Are you together? I mean, will you be allies in the arena?'

'I don't know, I don't know anything. All I know is I don't want to play their Games their way.'

'What does that mean?'

'It mean's surviving isn't my end goal; it's remaining who I am to the very end. Wherever that leads me.'

'Clara, alone in that arena there is so much more danger than if you have someone to watch your back. Even Grantaire.'

'What do you mean, even Grantaire? We both got 10s didn't we? He's just as capable as I am, if not more so. He'd be a perfect ally.'

'Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Can I just give you one piece of advice? Please?'

'Fine, just one, mind.'

'Don't associate with the Careers. They are dangerous this year, more so than in any of the Games I can remember.'

'The girl from District 1 is called Sparkle,' Clara pointed out.

'Appearances can be deceiving. We should know that more than most. Benedict has brute strength, but Avalon has all that and a brain. She's the cleverest girl in District 2 by a long shot, and heaven knows what her tactics are going to be. I have a feeling this was all planned. Something big is happening this year with the Careers, and I don't want you getting anywhere near them.'

'Well it's not as if I was going to ally myself to those blood-thirsty cretins, so I guess we're in agreement.'

'I wish that made me feel better.' Enjolras still didn't know what Clara was going to do in that arena, he had no idea what kind of tribute she'd be, but one thing was for sure. The viewers were never going to forget her. She would make sure of that, for whatever reason, she would be one tribute from 12 that everyone remembered.

'Goodbye Enjolras, don't let anyone stand in your way. Never let anyone tell you you're wrong, because you're not. You are everything that's right with this god forsaken world.'

Enjolras was then left alone in Avalon's dressing room, with Clara's last piece of advice to him, advice he would always hold close to his heart.

'So this makes us even?' Avalon returned to pick up the last of her things.

'Completely and entirely.'

'Good. I don't like to be indebted to our district's Golden Boy. Are you going back now?'

'No, I'll be in the Capitol until the end of the Games.'

'I guess I'll see you in a few days then,' she said smugly.

'You seem very certain you're going to win,' Enjorlas said questioningly.

'Believe me darling; there is no doubt about it. I think everyone is really going to enjoy these Games. At my expense of course.'

She winked as Enjolras left the dressing room and went back into the crowds to meet his father.

'Where have you been, my boy? Trying it on with the tributes backstage?'

Enjolras wanted to be physically sick.

'Just having a look around father.'

'Very good, very good. You'll want to be familiar when you start your new job next month. You must be looking forward to managing such a team.'

'Believe me father, I can hardly contain myself.'

'What did your old teacher have to say to you then?' Grantaire pushed himself off the wall to greet Clara as she returned.

'Just wanted to wish me luck, we got on really well in school.'

'Well that was nice of her.'

'Yeah, she's one of the good ones.'

'Ready to go up?' Grantaire pushed the button and they waited for the elevator in silence.

When it arrived Grantaire, like a true gentleman, allowed Clara to go in first.

'So how do you think it's going to pan out tomorrow?'

'Not sure, I think the Careers are going to be pretty formidable this year.' Knowing she had Enjolras behind her, Clara was starting to feel like her old self again. Grantaire too noticed the change but decided it was best not to point it out.

'I wonder who will make their ranks,' Grantaire thought aloud.

'There's too many, I dread to think about it,' Clara replied honestly.

'I never realised how the Games change your priorities, even before you enter the arena,' Grantaire said honestly. 'It puts your own life in perspective.'

'I know what you mean,' Clara smiled weakly at him.

'I understand it now, how you are able to put another person's life before your own.'

'If anyone can protect Jen, it's you. She's got the brains and the sponsors, you have the skills and the will.'

'I do care for Jen it's true,' Grantaire looked down at the floor. 'But she's not the one I'm laying my life on the line for.'

Clara looked at him in confusion.

'What do you mean?'

The elevator opened on their floor and Grantaire was the first to step out of it.

'I know it wasn't your old teacher you went to see tonight.'

'What does that have to do with anything?' Clara asked worriedly.

'My strategy for the arena,' Grantaire locked eyes with Clara. 'Number One, stay alive, we can thank Haymitch for that one. And two, get my district partner to be my ally.'

'What about Jen?'

'I have more loyalty to my district than to some do-gooder I met a matter of days ago.'

'You can't just leave her, she'll be expecting to team up with you.'

'Jen knows where we stand, and we've both got our own tactics. I'll see you in the morning Clara, you can give me your answer then.'

'Grantaire..' Clara began, but he had already disappeared into his sleeping quarters. After a few moments of staring thoughtfully into the darkness, Clara went to hers.

The hovercraft was already getting ready for take off when District 12's tributes arrived on the tarmac.

Haymitch nodded a brief goodbye to his tributes. After 20 years of disappointment and grief, he'd learnt not to get attached to them. He couldn't help but wonder about them though, there was something about the pairing this year that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

'Who knows?' thought Haymitch. 'Let's hope they're dead in the bloodbath.'

He honestly thought that was the best he could hope for. It's a matter of opinion as to whether it was true or not.

Clara was directed to her seat at the end of the row in the hovercraft, on the opposite side to Grantaire. They hadn't spoken since their conversation the previous night, which had made Clara even more nervous for the Games than she would otherwise have been.

The journey was relatively short. When the hovercraft touched land once again each tribute was steered to their assigned rooms where their stylist was waiting for them.

Grantaire arrived to a smiling Esther. She looked carefully at her tribute, nodding slowly.

'So what sort of climate are these clothes designed for?' he asked nervously.

'Hard to say,' Esther mused. Grantaire was wearing green waterproof trousers and a regular dark T-shirt. An equally ordinary jacket completed his outfit, and hard black boots prepared to him to step into the arena.

'Are we all wearing the same thing?' Grantaire questioned.

Esther raised her eyebrows. 'Of course, just like every other year,' she replied.

'Sorry, I'm just a little nervous I guess, not thinking straight.'

Esther's gaze softened. 'Of course. Don't worry, I'm sure everyone is feeling exactly the same.'

'I know a few who definitely won't be,' Grantaire countered grimly.

'I know the Careers' stylists. Everyone has their moment before the arena.'

A booming voice came from the speakers in the small, dank room.

'Will all tributes please get into their starting positions.'

'But no time for that now,' Esther said brightly. 'Let's get you in, you have your token yes?'

Grantaire reached inside his pocket and felt the thin material of one of his mother's old scarfs. He knew he would need a part of her with him if he were to survive any time in the arena.

He swallowed nervously. 'Yes.'

'Fantastic. Now one last thing for all tributes.'

'Excuse me?' Grantaire said in confusion.

'A little twist from the Gamemakers this year,' Esther winked. 'Sorry, but I cannot tell you what it is for.'

Grantaire looked at the small black box in his hand. It would fit into his pocket easily enough, but what was the point of it?

'Thanks….I guess,' he said to Esther.

'Believe me, you'll thank me later.'

'If you say so,' Grantaire shrugged, his voice riddled with doubt.

'60…59…58….57…56…' The countdown had begun, and the glass door closed between Grantaire and Esther.

She gave him one last smile before the ascent began.

'51…50…49…48….' A light blinded Grantaire as his eyes adjusted to his new environment.

'43…42…41…40…' And Grantaire was in the arena.

'Here we go,' he thought.