To Gingerfluff: Outtake on young Plutarch and/or Glynn added to the list. Victors from Four will come up very soon (and you're right on double-standards. Angelo is young and Mags' responsibility, so she grants him a second chance more easily. Justice is very subjective in Panem).
Thank you all for the reviews.
Year 14, September, two weeks after the peacekeeper rotation.
The doorbell rang.
Mags jumped to her feet and set down the apple she'd halfway eaten. Receiving news from Glynn always made her jittery. She hoped her mother and Esperanza would be back from the orphanage soon.
Her friendly smile froze in confusion when she opened the door. It wasn't the postman.
Before her stood tall peacekeeper, he was fit but had none of the brute strength Legend exuded and his dark-blonde hair was doubtless longer than Dario would have found appropriate.
He handed her the familiar blue envelope.
"Noti looked ill, I didn't have anything important to do," he said. His face broke into a nervous smile as Mags remained silent. "I promise I didn't read it."
Mags nodded mechanically, taking the letter and putting it safely on the nearby table. She now remembered seeing Noti coughing the day before and hoped it wasn't too serious.
"Thank you."
She wasn't so much surprised at seeing the peacekeeper deliver the mail, both transfers and pups were always eager for an opportunity to meet her during their first few months in Creneis, as the fact the man had said Noti rather than his official title Postmaster Currier. Noti was short for notizia, news, a nickname no-one would find on a register or official document.
Peacekeepers didn't ask for names or mingle. It wasn't just arrogance or rudeness, it was an actual rule. Mags' eyes narrowed. The man looked too old to be a pup, so it should have been ingrained by now.
The man huffed. "You know, I thought I was normal back home, then I joined, and everyone looks at me as if I'm weird. What did I do this time?" He said, looking genuinely put out.
Mags cracked a smile. He didn't look like a peacekeeper. He looked like a nice young man who'd slipped on a uniform.
"It's uncommon for peacekeepers to get familiar with us," she explained.
She was rewarded with a dubitative frown. "I asked for his name. That's hardly a tear-jerking declaration of friendship."
He then chuckled. "I should know better by now, this makes me part of a whole," he said, tugging at his uniform, "Valerian always despaired at my interpretation of regulations."
Valerian? Mags' eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Excuse me, Valerian Fletcher?"
"Yeah, sorry, Sergeant-Major Valerian," he said with a grimace.
Mags' couldn't care less that he'd been too familiar for regulations.
"What has Valerian to do with –"
The peacekeeper froze. A wry smile crossed his lips as if he couldn't believe his own stupidity. He chuckled, not meeting her eyes anymore.
"I'm so sorry, why don't we start over?" he said, running a hand through his dark blonde hair.
Mags could only stare as he gently shut back the door between them.
The doorbell rang.
Torn between confusion and laughter, Mags opened it again.
"Good evening, Mags," the fit peacekeeper said with a half-bow, "Cereus Sphene, honored to meet you at last."
Mags blinked. Cereus?
From confusing it had gotten surreal. Mags could almost feel her brain peter out.
"Constantine's Cereus?" she whispered.
"He did define us all," Cereus muttered, his wistful eyes far away. He then shook himself, remembering he wasn't alone.
Mags swallowed. "Tea?" She said, her smile much too forced and her voice much too strained. She hoped he would not notice that she was almost having a panic attack.
The man stepped back, his arms opening in an explicitly unthreatening manner. "I'm not angry at you or anything," he said, "I just -." Cereus winced.
So much for him not noticing.
"I'm being selfish," he said, straightening, and suddenly the awkward open-faced peacekeeper was a self-assured man who had seen too much. "You do owe me nothing," he stated, his brown eyes revealing a depth, and a warmth, that shook Mags out of her torpor.
Mags stopped him before he could leave.
"It's fine," she said, and she was surprised to mean it. "I was just surprised, please, come in. Mama should be back in half an hour."
Luxury of being a victor, the tea was ready in less than a minute.
"So… what are you going to do here?" Mags said, not sure what he wanted to talk to her about.
Cereus Sphene. The awkwardness was palpable.
"Learn to swim," he replied with a strained smile.
Mags snorted. "That might be a good idea," she said, a chuckle escaping her lips.
"I didn't even think about it before I saw the ocean." His eyes fell to the blue and gold tumultuous mass of crashing waves. They narrowed critically. "Kids manage to do it, it shouldn't be too hard."
"Sergeant Ajax left for Lycorias, there's an opening in my guard," Mags began.
"Yes, Camilla mentioned it. Who tells you I'm good enough?" Cereus said, in honest question rather than distress. "Your safety is quite important and I didn't have Constantine's military upbringing."
"Constantine would have made a terrible peacekeeper," Mags exclaimed, grief, awe and amusement mixing in her as she remembered how while Constantine had generally respected her decisions and deferred to the military officers, it had only been in times of acute crisis. He'd been quite swift to make his opinions known otherwise.
Cereus' rueful assent made Mags want to reach out and squeeze his hand.
She didn't dare him that 'good enough to guard her' meant 'wouldn't rat her out to the Capitol'. She didn't care if Cereus couldn't aim at point blank range. She had Dario and Legend for that.
"Do you know if Teal survived?" Cereus asked, dropping his eyes to his hands.
Something cold and sad settled in Mags' stomach as she thought of the brave rebel woman and Constantine's infatuation with her. "No," she whispered. "I have heard nothing from her, Sylvan, Fix or Chickaree... Is Constantine's mother alright? Valerian said she went to Ten but she's not very young, is she?"
"She'll die on the job," Cereus said. "She's almost seventy but the Aquilas were wealthy enough to buy Capitol rejuvenation treatments. Her body is twenty years younger. Selene knew she would do something stupid if she stayed in power after they took her son from her. She does what matters to her: turning second-rate peacekeepers into elite units. She's alright," Cereus said, and Mags could see he wasn't saying it lightly. The concern in those brown eyes was staggering.
"She's alright," he repeated with a smile. "Tough as nails. She's Constantine without the airs. She never believed in titles or money, ironically."
"But she married –"
"Yeah, and District One belonged to them. And most of it bored Constantine," Cereus said with a minute headshake.
"He was a misunderstood hero," Mags said wryly, memories of the Games that contained neither blood or threats resurfacing. Reading Shakespeare in the Citadel, Constantine vowing to protect them and Teal. "Craving challenges in a world that wished to drown him in trivia."
It didn't hurt. Mags was amazed that it didn't hurt. Maybe it had been long enough, or maybe it was Cereus' wistful, relaxed attitude. Odd that she'd feel safe with a near-stranger, a peacekeeper, sitting across from her.
Cereus crossed his arms, an impressed eyebrow shooting up. "I'm jealous, it took me four years to figure him out."
"You were younger when you met him, and I had Fife," Mags said. She would forever remember those scared black eyes and the ease with which the brunette had woven stories to save their lives. "She was fearsome at dissecting people just by looking at them. I thought they would attack each other at first, they were so different but in the end…"
In the end Constantine had chosen Mags and Fife, still holding the gun she could have used to win the Games, had been led into a trap.
"I've mentored four years," Mags whispered, "and every year I look for them, the Fife and Constantine of the new Games. Maybe the screens of the mentors room dull perceptions, but I haven't found them, tributes as clever, bent on survival and unique… Had I not been there, they… They were stronger than many victors I know."
They could have won. Most tributes deserved to win, almost all of them had something, but Fife and Constantine…
"There's surviving for the survival's sake and surviving to change the world," Cereus said, in a way that made Mags wonder, and fear, how much he knew. "Constantine didn't take needless risks. He granted his esteem to very few. He wasn't in love with you and yet he chose that you would live. I, like Valerian did then, respect him enough to accept that."
And so should you. The words were unspoken, but Mags saw the compassion in those brown eyes. She wondered what she had done to deserve it.
"You must have been so angry at him," she said, feeling the sudden urge to strike something.
"Ha." Cereus clamped his mouth shut, a tight mirthless smile on his lips. "I spent half my life angry at him," he said, "he was insufferable. But in One his life was set in stone and there are things worth dying for," Cereus flashed her a wan smile. His face lost all trace of mirth. "I was so furious." He pushed the cup of tea aside.
"So what did he say about me?" He said after a pause, his voice calmer. "It wasn't important enough to be revealed to the whole of Panem."
Mags let a tense breath out, relieved they didn't go too deep. Maybe this was what she had needed, talking about her allies, who they had been, rather than how they had died. For the first time, she had someone she could talk to.
"How did you learn to pick locks?" She asked. "I heard there was a child involved in that little adventure."
A pleased expression lit up Cereus' face. "Oh I'd hate to show off," he said with a fake apologetic smile.
Her mother and her sister were quite surprised to find her joking with a peacekeeper, their tea cups forgotten, when they came home.
Year 14, September, the next day.
"I think it's finally sorted out," Mags said with a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, I've got more orphans than I anticipated at the Academy and I just don't know how to handle them."
Maris Goby, owner of the orphanage of Creneis Town, grinned. "Mags, since you won, the lost little ones we raise here can have a job and a future. Before, no matter how I tried to make them feel loved and useful, my orphans felt like leftovers in a world that had no place for them. I fix broken children and you give them a future, it's perfect," she said, her eyes sparkling in delight. "I'll always make time for you."
Mags grinned back, wondering if the woman ever slept. Maris looked tired and older than her twenty-two years, but less tired than some who did a third of what she did.
The sun was barely up in the sky was when Mags reached the barracks. The victor huffed. Marquise would hate her if she woke her up so early. She'd probably also get annoyed on principle that Mags had come down alone instead of calling Dario and Camilla. Mags couldn't believe Falx had actually promoted the blonde to Sergeant and official leader of her guard. Her cheeks hurt from grinning so hard every time she thought about it.
Normally, Mags would have gone to the Academy and caught up on some work, but instead, she found herself walking quietly past Cereus' quarters, listening in to see if he was awake.
She was confident she heard movement inside the tiny room.
She knocked.
Definitely movement.
Mags knocked again, harder. "Cereus, what are you doing?"
"Getting dressed," came the diffident reply, "At this very moment, I'm scratching my backside with great class and dignity."
Mags' eyebrows flew up to her hairline, shocked. She chuckled, waiting for Cereus to get ready.
The man blushed scarlet when he stepped out, his dark-blonde hair still wet from a shower.
"I'm sorry for that all too spontaneous answer," he said, his eyes wide in horror, " the door muffles the sound and I…" He shut his eyes briefly, mortified. "I thought you were Camilla. Two years in barracks have damaged my manners beyond repair. The men are...boisterous, and the women are the worst," he said with a wince, "always feeling the need to prove they're not fainting violets."
Mags bit the inside of her cheeks. New rotations brought to Creneis its share of stiff-necked defiant peacekeepers with a strong bullying potential, and before her was this red-faced boy, who –
Mags couldn't help herself. "No matter, I occasionally scratch my backside too," she revealed, struggling to keep a straight face. "Always very dignified and elegant too."
"Always," Cereus said, his tight-lipped mischievous smile digging adorable dimples.
Mags chuckled, surprised at how easy it was to talk to him.
"Where were you assigned before?" She asked. "I'll walk you to the Academy."
She hid her surprise when he offered her his arm, as if it was the most natural thing to do. She took it, not wanting to be cold.
"District Six, work division, overseeing the factories to make sure people don't break the law to squeeze in more production," Cereus said, his head cocked to the side as he reminisced. "It was very instructive, I learned a lot on how things are built. It was a cozy first assignment, but Valerian didn't go through the pain of supervising my accelerated training -"
Mags frowned.
"Two years and a half instead of five," Cereus explained, "I'm diligent, hardworking and gifted," he said with an air of false solemnity, a hand over his heart, "but mostly things go faster when you have an extra twenty hours a week of personalized classes," he said with a wry grin. "Valerian's wife hates me: half of those hours had to be done on his rest day. I bought her affection with chocolate."
His offhand way of complimenting himself while not seeming arrogant reminded her that this man had been Constantine's best friend. Cereus was probably the modest one of the two, but she knew she shouldn't be surprised at all that he would have some of Constantine's airs. It was almost painful how the mix made her feel she knew him and then painfully aware she didn't.
That stranger was a bit of Constantine, and he was friendly enough Mags had to push back the urge to hug him. Constantine had been incredibly handsome, the kind that made you want to stand across the room from him and just gaze. Cereus was a much more open and common kind of good looking, and had something about him that put her at ease.
"As I was saying," Cereus continued, "Valerian didn't want me to get killed in Eleven on my first assignment after all the effort he'd put in me."
Mags' eyes narrowed in worry. "Is it so dangerous there?"
Cereus bowed his head, his features tightening. "It's harsher, they say," he said in careful tones. "And Valerian didn't want me hung as a rebel." He flashed Mags an unabashed grin.
Mags stiffened, the fear much more present than it had been the night before. Cereus had seen the videos, the last moments of Fife and Constantine. This man wasn't wearing the blindfold that Achlys was. Cereus probably knew she still held fast to her rebel ideals and he was laughing about it as if it was nothing.
Considering how self-absorbed Constantine had been –except with Teal, Mags amended - Cereus was also much too perceptive. He seemed to shrink slightly on himself when he caught her discomfort.
Maybe it did take someone with a special sensitivity to warm up to Constantine.
"I make a terrible peacekeeper in terms of attitude," he said with wry smile. "I question orders I don't like... It worked in Six because we were in a position where the decent people's goals and our goals were roughly the same. The only reason I'm here is because Valerian still feels responsible. I'd never have passed the conditioning tests with someone else. I hope I'll never go to Eleven," he said, his face more somber.
Mags frowned again. She hadn't wondered why he'd become a peacekeeper, it had to be a career choice among many in One, but now, it seemed odd. Why would he have committed himself to twenty years of a job he wasn't suited for? Creeping discomfort stirred inside her, and she wasn't sure why.
"Marquise too didn't -"
Cereus grinned. "Now that's a real woman. She's more spoiled than a girl from her background has any right to be, but she doesn't make you afraid of being punched if you hold the door open for her."
"So to be womanly you can't be a good peacekeeper?" Mags challenged, a smile belying her tone. Marquise acted spoiled, there was no way around it.
"No, but if you could cut on the dirty jokes, stay dressed, be reasonably shaved and smell like a human being..." Cereus laughed at Mags' expression.
He leaned back, his eyes turning to the town below. "Back in Six, Ava and Styx were impossible. We were all melting from the heat when we did the railroad check-up," he began, "the water was rationed, so us guys went shirtless, and well, the women couldn't, but they didn't want to have bigger quotas of water, because of some nonsense about it making them look weak, so they were filthy, and they actually shaved their heads..." Cereus shook his head in dismay. His lips twitched into a broad happy smile as he cocked his head to stare at Mags' shoulder-length golden-brown locks.
Her lips quirked. Pure vanity, and yet his frank cheer made her feel warm.
"The only other man from One was a brute," Cereus continued in scandalized tones. "there was this one gal from Seven and the others were all District Two. Different culture. The other guys thought I was a vain pansy. I think they pushed the manly-man ideal a little too far down the hairy and sweaty side." He winked at Mags' scrunched up nose. "Those last two years were insane, but the good kind."
Story of Mags' life. Although 'good' was due to her brain convincing herself of all the things that could have gone wrong since she had become a victor.
"You're saying Constantine would have abandoned after a week?" She said with a small smile.
Cereus' eyebrows flew up to his hairline. "Abandon, Constantine Aquila?" Cereus inhaled deeply, squaring his shoulders. "Death before dishonor!" He exclaimed solemnly, his voice dropping an octave. "If by some facetious twist of fate Constantine had ended up serving in the districts he would have challenged his superiors to duels and conquered authority over the barracks or died trying. He'd then have appointed a lieutenant, tasked him to put some order in everything and went to hide in some quiet melancholic place to ponder the vacuity of existence."
Cereus deflated, his lips twisting into a bittersweet smile. "Gods, I miss that pompous idiot."
Mags found herself squeezing his arm in sympathy. She then blinked, Cereus' earlier words fully registering. Two years and a half of training, two years of assignment in Six. He had started his training after her Games, at eighteen, later than most recruits but earlier than the recruitment laws had been passed.
He'd started training after her victory tour. She finally named the uncomfortable feeling from before. It wasn't just that he spoke too openly for a peacekeeper, he was talking to her as if he knew her, as if they had history.
"You became a peacekeeper to escape." She whispered, suddenly seeing the man before her in a new light.
He'd fled the void Constantine's death had left.
"Yes, and to see you," Cereus said with a tentative smile. "I don't regret it."
Mags dropped her gaze. She was with Constantine's best friend.
Constantine was dead. Cereus shouldn't be laughing with her.
It was too much.
A voice made her start. She blinked tears out of her eyes.
"Do you two know each other?" Marquise said, her eyes falling on the hand Mags still hand around Cereus' arm. "Was he your next door neighbor from before the war or something?"
"You're from One?" Cereus said, pulling away from her and staring at her from head to toe. "That's why you look so different from your mum and sister," he exclaimed. "Not that you don't look alike," he backpedalled, "I mean, you have that same scowl and –"
"I was born Mags Peregrine," Mags said. She frowned slightly. When had she scowled?
Cereus shut his mouth and stared.
"Peregrine? Imperial Square Inferno Peregrine?" Constantine was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. "You were born in District One? You...your father murdered General Alloy."
"Yes, Imperial Inferno Peregrine," she said tightly, not wanting a repeat of that particular scene.
Cereus nodded slowly. "Wow, some solid genes you've got," he said, his brown eyes still wide as saucers.
Mags' shoulders slumped. Would he never get angry at her? She frowned at him. How could he say that if front of Marquise? She could be Achlys' fiercest supporter for all Cereus knew.
"You're friends, everyone says so," Cereus said, his eyes going from her to Marquise as if it was self-evident. "Marquise is has no connections or wealth, being her friend is just trouble in the barracks. She's got too much personality to be a tool. You're her friend because you trust her," he said calmly, his face tightening slightly in anger. "I'm an average peacekeeper but I'm not blind."
"Thank goodness the rest are blind, then," Marquise muttered. "And I'm your Sergeant, Cereus, make an effort." She frowned. "Who are you?"
"Constantine Aquila's best friend," Mags explained.
"Oh," Marquise said, her face clearing up in understanding, "that's why you think like a politician and using people. The others aren't exactly from the same background," she said with a smirk, "half of them think Mags is lesbian."
Mags choked as she swallowed the wrong way. What?
"Well you haven't been dating and the only thing people can grant me is that I'm hot," Marquise said innocently. She clapped Cereus on the shoulder. "Welcome to the guard, and in public try to pretend you don't know Legend's the one actually in charge."
"Yes, Sergeant," Cereus said.
His flawless salute couldn't completely erase the glitter in his eyes.
Year 14, September, a week later.
"The Station-squads are exclusively new guard this year?" Mags asked, worried.
She couldn't afford a team of inexperienced, maybe incompetent, people at export and imports.
She turned her head when no answer came.
Dario had stopped, his ireful gaze of the ocean.
Mags squinted to see. Yes, it was definitely Marquise, with the inflatable security motorboat moored on the reef.
Mags laughed when she, Dario and Camilla reached the shore.
Cereus had a rope around his waist, the water was up to his chin and Marquise was having him tread for his life.
"Anyone can see you," Dario hissed. "you are making us look ridiculous."
"Over half the barracks can't swim and most know pools, not currents and waves," Cereus replied, spitting water out at regular intervals. "Drowning doesn't make anyone look dignified."
"You seem to have the hang of treading," Mags approved. Cereus almost drowned when he tried to lift his arm to salute her.
Dario was much less amused. "Not in plain sight," he ground out, before muttering something about One's peacekeepers and image.
"There's a pool in the reefs," Mags said with a smile, "no current, it'd be easier."
"Come with us," Marquise said, surprisingly more decent in her full-body swimsuit than in her usual uniform. "I learned splashing around in a river during the Dark Days. I don't know how to teach him."
"You're telling me now?" Cereus protested before coughing up more water and struggling to stay afloat.
Mags hesitated. She had so much to do.
Marquise's eyes narrowed. She knew Mags too well. "That was an order Miss Mags. As your guard, we need to function as a single unit. You're a better swimmer than all of us combined."
"There are two adequate new recruits who know how to swim," Dario said, his jaw so tight that Mags was impressed he didn't shout.
"Yes, but they're from Two and ruder than you are," Marquise replied with an insolent smile. "I'm Sergeant now, suck it up."
Mags bit back a grin. Falx had to have been drunk. Marquise was the most unprofessional Sergeant she'd ever seen.
"I'll recommend you when you leave, Dario," Mags said, "you'll be serving in District One in less than a year."
It didn't take more to calm the peacekeeper down. He gave Marquise a resigned nod.
"I'd like to learn too," Camilla unexpectedly said. "I'm one of those pool-not-sea people."
Mags gave a slow nod. A part of her craved nothing more than to slip on a swimsuit and go playing with them, but almost anyone in Four could teach them and -
"We could use those swimming lessons to see if the sea-food has come back," Cereus said, pushing himself up on the reefs, water streaming from his body.
The sea food? Mags frowned. What was he talking about?
"Those shell creatures," Cereus said, irritated at his memory. "You say there are fewer children risking themselves on the reefs because there more jobs available but that they should be back by now."
Mags' eyes lit up.
"Yes, a cartography of the reefs to see where prawns, urchins and octopi have come back to breed," she said. "Divers were so common before the war, now they're all in constructions… It's been almost fifteen years, the herons are back and there are crabs on the reefs once more, the water should be pure enough."
That was actually a brilliant idea. Marquise's boat was more practical than any other they had and once Mags had located the zones, the divers could organize expeditions once more.
"Exactly," Cereus said with a smile. "Now we've got an excuse and Mags doesn't feel guilty for fooling around, let's go. You've all got swimsuits?"
Mags found herself staring. His pale skin seemed to glow and his hair was almost invisible. Four's men, even those of fairer complexion like Marlin, didn't look like that. She blushed and smiled at him, aware she had been caught.
"We've got a load," Marquise said, gesturing at the box with her bare foot.
Dario scowled. "I know how to swim."
"You'll count the crabs then," Marquise replied brightly.
Year 15, February
"So when it's Oliver Blackpool it's not okay, but peacekeeper Cereus can follow you around all day, and that's fine?" Esperanza teased. "Cereus is cuter, mind you. He's also more of a peacekeeper, Achlys might approve. Until she meets him," the teen scrunched her face up. "He needs to learn to lie properly."
Mags stared at her sister, appalled. Was Esperanza being jealous or could she innocently be able to point in so few sentences all the things that had been plaguing Mags?
She liked Cereus and she knew their friendship was a slippery slope that would have to evolve, one way or another.
"Come on," Esperanza whined, "talk to me. I tell you everything."
What would she talk about? "I trust you, it's just that -"
"If you wait until you decide if you want to have his babies to tell me about him," Esperanza cut in, "I'll be waiting a while. Who cares if your opinion changes as time goes by? I'll always have a worse record than you."
That wasn't the point. "It's not a competition."
"Mags, stop being difficult," the seventeen year old said.
Mags sighed. There wasn't anything big to tell, it was the little things.
Back in time: Year 14, late October.
"This is ridiculous," Cereus said, mystified, as he watched a dozen muscled sailors struggle with the huge cart. "The perimeter around the drill grounds has people push the boats an extra half-mile to access the shipwrights when they can't go by water. We should just move the grounds above the barracks rather than below."
Mags chuckled. "You want me to tell peacekeepers they have to give up good grounds with running water and electricity for a rocky waste that will take months to terraform?"
Cereus didn't see the problem. "Well it's not like they're the ones producing," he said. "What does Creneis need fifty peacekeepers for? The number is calculated to stop a riot. There wasn't even a hanging last year. Most of us are sunbathing half the time."
"They're a presence," Mags replied. "It's about surveillance and showing the Capitol is powerful and everywhere. What did Valerian teach you?"
"To think," Cereus said, his intelligent eyes going from the drill grounds to the docks. "It'll take less time if the guys learn to use the machines and build the new grounds themselves."
Mags almost gaped. "Cereus, it would destroy their credibility if they're seen digging in the mud. The fear factor would be crushed."
Children would come to point at the working peacekeepers and jeer at them.
"It would be useful. I'd rather do that than sneer at people all day long and fix my hair in shop windows."
A grin broke Mags' mouth. Cereus was one of the few who kept his hair long enough for it to tangle, and it barely reached his ears. Picturing Dario with a hair brush in front of the mirror made her snigger.
Except Cereus was serious.
Mags shook her head slightly. In times like this she felt like he was the rebel and she the cowed collaborator.
"What do we risk from trying?" Cereus said.
"Nothing," Mags said, a sense of elation filling her. "Absolutely nothing, let's do this."
Year 15, January
Mags winced when she saw a group of drenched ten-year-olds helping the peacekeepers dig trenches.
"They thought they were clever by laughing at us," Dario said with a satisfied smirk. "It'll toughen them up and they're even paid."
"A meal for four hours of backbreaking work," Mags pointed out, scowling slightly at the stupid children.
"That, work-uniforms they can destroy and all the fresh water they want," Dario said. "They don't need more."
"It's a good lesson," Mags agreed. She was astonished that Cereus had managed to convince people to go with his plan. All the peacekeepers had spent a month on deciding how to make the best grounds and Mags had just paid for the materials.
"Now that's power," Cereus said triumphantly when she walked up to him. "Lothar, you're holding the shovel wrong," he called with a boyish grin.
The shaved peacekeeper snapped towards him from behind the fence. "You'll be holding your butt when I shove it up your –"
"There's children here, blockhead," another peacekeeper cut in.
"Blah," the young Lothar protested, before shifting his hold on his shovel and brandishing it for Cereus to see.
The blonde gave him thumbs up, earning himself a finger from the grinning Lothar.
"See, they love it," Cereus said, pride lighting his features as his arm went around her shoulder. "Makes them feel like real men, doing stuff. You won the Games for them as much as for Creneis Town."
Sometimes the warmth in his expression was too intense.
Mags brought her fist down on Cereus' chest. "Stop that. I shouldn't be admired for what I did."
He'd always touched her casually. I hadn't surprised her anymore after the first few weeks, but now she both craved the touch and wondered what it really meant.
Cereus gave her that look, his soulful dark eyes sucking her in. "Is it acceptable to admire you for what you are doing now?"
What they were doing. Nothing was her work alone.
"Merit is such a flawed term," Mags said, pulling away not to be distracted by Cereus' proximity. Whenever she got close, his clinging, subtle scent made her want to nuzzle him. "I was born with the ability to do more, I have a responsibility to –"
"I think we will settle, my flawed perception of merit and I, with telling you you're doing great and, just so you know," Cereus said, his voice gaining an edge, "I'm the guy who couldn't tell his best friend would volunteer."
Mags' face fell. She suddenly felt horrible. It hadn't even occurred to her. She had been so selfish, complaining about -
"I'm the guy who couldn't make him happy enough to want to live. Me, Coraline, Selene, Roy…" Cereus stopped when he noticed Mags' guilt-ridden expression. The anger and grief fled his face. He grasped her arm, that look back in place, as if to tell her he knew.
Mags dropped her gaze. "Glynn's been telling me for years that refusing to share responsibility is like feeling superior to everyone else," she said through weak chuckles. "Ever since that disaster with Kyle -"
She didn't want to talk about Kyle.
"It's okay to feel superior to most people," Cereus said with an unabashed smirk.
Mags laughed, flushing slightly when he grasped her hand.
Back to Year 15, February
"I'm not scared Esperanza. I feel judged but in a good way, I feel he knows to care in a way that doesn't make him a danger to me, and to himself."
She hadn't felt safe with anyone in so long. Just her mother. Esperanza was barely reaching the age where she could understand the choices Mags had made during the Games. Mags still had to be careful about what she told her little sister.
Cereus knew her, he'd come to Four knowing what she was, and it should have terrified her beyond measure. Instead, she felt she could talk, about anything.
"He understands without you having to explain," Esperanza said with a smile.
Mags shook her head. "Not exactly, I have to explain, and he has to explain, otherwise we're just projecting our own experiences or the other."
She had trouble thinking like Cereus. He'd not forgiven her because he'd never held her responsible and yet he was the first who had suffered. It was incredible.
"He doesn't care about what I did, he cares about how it affected me. He cares about now and what we'll do."
We.
He made her feel light and free and supported.
Year 15, April
"Who are you? Shoo,"
Mags started as she heard a familiar and very unexpected voice. She jumped away from Cereus, realizing they'd been talking quite close together. It didn't mean much, it would look like that but he'd been affectionate since the start and -
Her heart began to race as she sought justifications. Why was she seeking justifications?
"You must be Glynn," Cereus said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Cereus," Glynn exclaimed with a smile. "Mentioned just enough Achlys won't find it odd. I don't think anyone made the link with Constantine, you're safe. Now shoo, I don't have much time."
Cereus shooed, shooting the green-haired woman a peculiar glance.
"Does he smell better than Rowan?" Glynn said, an eyebrow raised in question.
Mags whacked her.
"You're getting close to him. You freak out when you're not in control," Glynn said, concern sharpening her gaze. "I just want to make sure you're not in denial because I won't be here to pick you up."
Mags almost whacked her again. "It's always accelerated psych session with you," she grumbled.
"Mags, we hardly see each other, don't make me need hours to get the information out of you."
The victor sighed. "He's kind, Glynn. He goes out of his way to be kind, for little things. In the barracks, everyone seems to owe him a service or two." A smile flitted unbidden over her lips. "He gets things done."
"Wow," Glynn cooed. "A male you, and the universe brought the two of you together." Glynn grinned. "Awesome. Now kiss."
Mags glowered, her hand itching to lash out again. "How's Syrianus?" She said.
Cereus was doing more than enough. Mags didn't want to put him in danger.
"He proposed," Glynn said offhandedly.
WHAT? Mags choked. "You two?" Mags gaped. This couldn't be news! Mags hadn't even known they were officially dating. "You dare tell me to tell you everything when you -," Mags spluttered. "Isn't he old?" She managed.
Glynn laughed. "You know, I thought so too at first, but he doesn't look thirty-one and the Capitol… Life is easier. Sure, there are character building aspects to growing in a town ruled by fashion and the fear of an invasion from the districts, and Syri had to fight to be who he wanted to be, but they're all so immature, Mags," Glynn said, lifting her eyes skywards.
"You wouldn't think they'd lived through a war. I feel so adult when I'm amongst them," she added, pulling Mags down to the beach. "Syrianus doesn't poison his body and has access to the same medicine as those hard partyers. He could live to be a hundred and twenty."
"A Capitolite," Mags repeated, her brain refusing to make sense of it.
She didn't have anything against Syrianus, but… Somehow she'd always wanted to believe that Glynn's time over there would have been temporary.
This accursed censure was making her miss out on so much!
She latched onto Glynn's arm. "How's it going to work, where will you live?"
"I'm allowed back in Four for now," Glynn said, "two days every other month or so, with merchandise convoys. The wedding will have to be in the Capitol. Don't worry, we'll handle it. We couldn't tell anyone until we were sure it wasn't a very stupid idea to be together. Achlys is okay with it."
Mags swallowed. "Have you checked for precedents?"
"District/Capitolite? Of course I checked," Glynn scoffed, as if the question was self-evident. "A fair few during the war actually, and not just with the fifty or so district people who had been allowed to come live in the Capitol in the last decade. Since then, it's been rare, but there have been a dozen granted demands now that the peacekeepers from the Capitol are in the Districts."
Glynn paused, her eyes loosing focus. "Eventually, I think they won't be allowed to marry anymore," she said softly. "It's causing problems… But the children of peacekeepers are taught values that suit the Capitol, not to mention the population is still low, so for now, there's a bit of leeway."
Marquise would have to be told. Mags knew that despite her occasional lighthearted relationships, the blonde wanted a family.
Glynn was trying changing the subject. Mags wouldn't let her.
"Will you alter your body? Socially you'll have to," Mags muttered, unable to conceal her horror at the thought.
Glynn shrugged, a small smile on her face. "Most people don't alter so much, you know. I'm from Four, people expect me to wear 'traditional clothes', whatever than even means," she said. "You know how much I care for other's opinions. I'll do what is necessary not to have my children ostracized."
Glynn having children, in the Capitol. A stone lodged itself in Mags' throat as she realized how real this was. She couldn't help being terrified for her friend.
"What do Capitolites really think of the districts?" She said. Glynn never complained, but was she treated with respect?
Glynn's face fell. "They don't really. It's not among their preoccupations. They're terrified, to grow old, to be alone, to die cast away… They're so odd, so many are unhappy, fearing things they shouldn't. Ugliness is treated as an illness." Glynn's lips twisted. "People crave originality but fear those who aren't like them. Everything has to be perfect. Everything seems to be a right, even being young, beautiful and healthy."
Mags nodded, she'd been around escorts and Myia enough to know it all too well.
A veil crossed Glynn's hazel eyes. "You know, in the early days, human dignity was something you couldn't touch. Even abortion was considered by many like a step taken too far. In the Capitol, the body is something you own and can sell, there's nothing untouchable. Clones,"
"What?" Mags whispered. Glynn was shivering, her face pale. What were clones?
"Clones of Capitol citizen are banned, but clones –genetic copies, in theory it's like making a twin of someone- of avoxes are grown in vats, for medical research," Glynn said. "Only a third survive to their first year."
Mags' stomach lurched. Their first year? What did those monsters do to them?
"They're doing nothing to the babies," Glynn said tightly. "The clones die because technology can't replace a mother's womb. They tried everything to simulate a proper environment, but it's too complex and the babies who survive are off. They're lacking something. They're highly retarded but physically perfect." Glynn shuddered. "They're the lab rats for alterations and treatments that don't involve the brain."
Mags forced her mouth shut. She feared nightmares would assault her if she so much as shut her eyes. How had the conversation turned so grim? Mutts were already an abomination. Mags really wished she could have died without knowing that.
"I –"
"I'm telling you this because there's a bioethics committee," Glynn said, a stiff apologetic smile on her lips. "The committee members are tolerated because I think the authorities want to show that tolerance is a thing. In truth, those who are sincere are gagged. I've been keeping some of them around, building a loose network, making people believe it's because they work in close cooperation with the hospitals. It's slow, but under the surface, the Capitol isn't as docile as we're lead to believe."
That cheered Mags up slightly. Like a hot beverage would after a knife thrust.
"How is it going with the avoxes?" She asked hoarsely.
"It'll take time," Glynn admitted. "Avoxes from Three aren't allowed where there are sensitive electronics; those from Six aren't allowed in medical environments or transports… basically they're sorted to avoid sabotage. Resorting them while covering our tracks is difficult and we need them to be dormant agents, which means talking to them." Glynn sighed at the enormity of the task that awaited her. "It'll take years."
Mags nodded. She had accepted that long ago. The Capitol had to be weakened from the inside first, just as Four and the other Districts had to be strengthened.
Years… Glynn would have children by then.
"How's Syrianus thought of there? She asked. She wished she had spent more time with the man. Someone who wanted to marry Glynn, and who Glynn loved back, had to be quite special. She wished she could have been there to see them grow close.
Glynn laughed. It sounded a little forced but the warmth in her eyes was genuine "An antisocial genius. You're quite antisocial yourself by Capitol standards. He's normal by mine." Her eyes glittered, adding to the happy glow to her cheeks. "He taught me to dance."
Mags' lips quirked. Her eyes widened incredulously. It felt surreal. "You're..."
"The spoiled daughter of two well-off adults in a small sailor town," Gynn said with a smirk, "Here, you can't be frivolous and you can't be erudite, in the Capitol you can be both and choose. Most Capitolites are rotten, because they're raised to be shallow and many are lazy or lack curiosity. Syrianus is neither of those things. And he dances so well," she said, her eyes far away.
Mags had never thought she would see Glynn so ecstatic.
"You're really marrying him," she said, a mix of shock and awe warring on her face.
One of her friends to a Capitolite. Wow.
"He is from the Capitol," Glynn said, her face darkening slightly. "If I wasn't as sure as I can be, I would have stayed well away from him. A bad break up with these people…" Glynn grimaced, "I am no one over there until I am married, and even then… No, I'm certain about Syrianus."
Glynn didn't seem the kind of girl to get trapped in an abusive relationship but Mags couldn't help being afraid. How would other people treat her? What would she become?
"You're sure now," she whispered.
A flash of anger crossed Glynn's face. "At some point, Mags, you have to allow yourself to live."
Year 15 April, two weeks later.
"How could they be so careless," Mags shouted. She was going to go to Lycorias and murder them.
Four months of investigations and arrests destroyed because of one -
"Why is the fact the criminals broke out of the jail such a problem?" Cereus said, shocked by her sudden anger. "Don't you have them traced?"
"We don't use tracers here," Mags said, forcing her voice level. "They're expensive and the Capitol is afraid they'd be stolen and used against peacekeepers."
They had been so close to having that filthy underground network disbanded for good!
"That was then, and tracers once used can't be stolen," Cereus said, standing up. "We'll have them shipped from One. I'll contact South Sector's supply manager."
A lost look flitted into Mags' eyes. "We can do that?" Without asking the Capitol?
Could this have been avoided if she'd thought to mention the lack of tracers to Cereus months before?
"The situation's unacceptable," Cereus said with a wan smile. "We must. I'll make the trip myself if I have to."
"The chain of command -" She began.
Cereus put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Mags, Mags, don't let them fill your mind with that rubbish. Things can be done as long as one person takes responsibility and there's the money. You know that, that's how you got everything done here. Peacekeepers are the same, they've just got a bigger sense of entitlement."
"But Marquise -" They couldn't do that. Rankers and small officers didn't have the power to.
"Marquise comes from lower class background," Cereus said pointedly. "She's a great person but she doesn't have a clue about how things work. She believes what she's been taught. I know who to contact, Valerian didn't waste his time sparring with me. He made sure I was prepared."
"Okay," Mags said, finding herself in the quite unfamiliar situation of watching someone do the work while she just waited.
It was a weird but awesome sensation.
Two days later, Cereus came back with a box.
"What's that?" Mags said, curious.
Cereus ran a hand through his hair. "Maris said she had trouble minding all the orphans and some got lost or ran away. No one will miss one tracer kit and it's not unethical to use it on kids younger than twelve," he said, a glimmer of doubt in his brown eyes.
He really should have been jumping up and down in triumph rather than wondering if ten year olds would be upset at being traced. Mags felt something melt inside her.
Cereus was useful, clever and he cared more than anyone she had met before. He didn't need her to clean up behind him and he'd made it obvious he liked her, even if he knew better than to push.
'At some point, Mags, you have to allow yourself to live.'
It was as if the lighting had subtly changed. Cereus Sphene was in that moment the most beautiful man in the world.
Mags smiled and planted a kiss on his lips. "Brilliant," she said, grasping his hand and leading them both to Maris.
"The things a guy has to do," she heard him mutter.
She laughed and slowed down so he could kiss her properly.
Author's Note:
This isn't a "Mags finding true love after a tension-filled roller-coaster ride and raising her kids story". Some details have to be sacrificed to reach Achlys' fall (sometime between year 42 and year 48) before Christmas. My last attempt at romance (Kyle excluded) involved a brooding, emotionally crippled, intellectual man with a dark past. Mags needs a saner, lighter, man and I hope I did Cereus justice. I designed them both to be together since chapter 4. If you want them to tackle some issues, please ask now. They'll have a few more couple moments though, don't fear.
Reminder: chapter 4 has Constantine's flashback about Cereus and chapter 24 has Cereus' POV chapter.
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