Chapter 36

She was beautiful. So beautiful. And so strong, and confident, and…

That was as far as Apollo Gossamer got before breaking down into tears. His Artemis…his own Artemis…had just won the Hunger Games. And she had led not only one but eight others out alive with her. Saying that he was proud of her would be an understatement.

In the cell across the hall, he knew that former Vice President Adrian Angelico was also watching the ceremony on his television, though most likely not crying as he was so shamefully doing. And a few cells down, Avitus Lyre, father of Petronius Lyre, was also watching. As was Aelia Bell, mother of Cynthia Bell; Marcus Waters, father of Marius Waters; and Remus Crown, father of the now deceased Romulus and Lystria Crown.

He turned his teary eyes back to the screen in front of him. His daughter, looking so beautiful in her rainbow-shimmering black dress, sat down in the last vacant chair on the stage, which was next to Angelico's son. Apollo frowned. His captors had forced him to watch his daughter's Games, and he had seen the kiss that was exchanged between the two on that one night. He, of course, did not approve in the least. The girl was two years shy of the betrothal age, by Jove! And that boy, well, even if he had been on Apollo's original list of potential husbands for his young Artemis, he wasn't his first choice. Maybe the seventeenth… no, make that nineteenth; even if Caius was the son of a (formerly) very powerful man, the attorney general's two idiot nephews, it mattered not which one, were better choices when weighed in comparison to the unkempt, insomniac, manner-less, impudent –– he could go on and on for years, given the chance –– boy.

Apollo choked back another sob as his mind wandered and found the bitter memory of the film his captors had shown him. It had been his Artemis, chained and blindfolded to a metal table. At first he had thought that the recording wasn't real, but when Artemis began to speak he knew that it was genuine. No one would be able to imitate her voice and word choice in such a way. And through words did she get out, definitely. She would have made a wonderful lawyer. She had spoken to Plutarch Heavensbee, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, and Haymitch Abernathy, who had come to question her, about the so-called "justice" of the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games… pride would be too small of a word to describe the feeling that had swelled inside Apollo's chest when he had heard his daughter, so fiery and strong, utter the words that she did.

The ceremony passed without major incident and somehow they managed to wiggle out of watching the highlights of the Games, which was credited mostly to Artemis and her verbal eloquence. But near the end, Caesar decided to bring up a subject which had been popular in conversation as of late. "I am sure that we all know," he said, addressing not only the victors but the watching crowd in general, "that lately our government has been debating what the name of this new nation should be."

This encouraged a small racket among the watchers, some of whom started to shout out their own opinions. Apollo even heard someone yell, "Cheese!"

Caesar managed to quiet the crowd down, and when he did, he turned to Artemis and said, "After the Games ended, we finally came to a decision."

Artemis raised her eyebrow quizzically. "Oh? And what might this have to do with me, seeing as you are clearly pointing it in my general direction?"

"Well," said Caesar dramatically, "I am sure that you will be interested to learn that the nation of Panem shall furthermore be addressed to as the nation of…" insert dramatic pause "…Liber."

There was a collective exhale from the crowd, augmented with immature shout-outs. The victors on the stage, save Artemis, exchanged glances and murmured. Artemis only nodded. "Liber," she repeated. "Panem et circenses mutare nos pro liberis, videbo?"

"Excuse me?" inquired Caesar, who was obviously not fluent in Latin.

"We are exchanging the bread and the circuses for the free people, I see?"

"Ahh," he exhaled. "Yes, I see now. And yes, we are. That is a good way to put it. Where did you hear that?"

Artemis stared at him. "Rhonda's Pizza Party Place."

"Really?"

"No, that was sarcasm."

Apollo let out a short, dry laugh. Only Artemis, he mused to himself. Only his daughter would say such a thing.

The interview ended after a few more questions, and President Paylor stepped forward with the crowns. They weren't the gaudy things that they had been in previous years, but rather small, thin circlets. And to Apollo, his daughter, standing among her friends, looked more beautiful than she would have if she had been standing alone and with the most precious jewels in the world resting on her head.

The ceremony came to a close. Apollo's head sank, and a tear fell as some of the words that Artemis had uttered in the arena came back to him. "Your parents didn't abandon you, and they are not waiting for execution."

"They're in prison!" the Petronius boy had snapped.

"In prison, yes," retorted Artemis, "but waiting for release and not their execution, and anticipating the moment they will see you face to face… you have your family to look forward to seeing in the future. You want to get out of the arena to see them again. But Caius and Iris and Romulus and I, we only have ourselves. Ourselves and each other."

But I am here! Apollo Gossamer had wanted to yell. Why had she said those things? It was almost as if she had completely ignored him. Why had she said that her parents had abandoned her? Yes, it was true that her mother had left, but Apollo had never left Artemis. At least, he didn't think that he had. Unless…

He remembered that moment when they had first found out about the rebels' assault on the Capitol. He had rushed up to Artemis's room right away to find a battle-ready soldier standing in the doorway. That battle-ready soldier only came up to his shoulders, but the strange fire in her dark eyes was enough to make him wonder where his young, innocent daughter had gone.

"Artemis," he had said to her, "what are you doing?"

She had looked up into his eyes, then down at her bulletproof vest to zip it up. "I'm getting ready."

"Artie," he said, kneeling down and taking the loaded gun from her small hands, "I know you feel so grown up, now that you're almost a teenager, but…"

"Dad," she interrupted, "if they storm the house and get past the guards, you can't fight. Someone has to protect you."

"But who's going to protect you?" he pleaded. "I need to take you down to the safe rooms. I'll stay and defend you."

"Dad, you can't –– " she said, but she was cut off by a beeping noise. "Hang on a sec." She reached down to her belt and slipped a small silver disk out of a pocket. She glanced at it once, then cursed in Latin. "They're coming. They've stormed the gates." Swiftly she manipulated the icons on the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Instantly Apollo heard several loud banging noises from throughout the mansion, and behind Artemis in her room a blast shield slid down over the window.

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"I secured all of the entryways to the doors and windows with a remote that I constructed specifically for a purpose like this," she replied simply. "It'll buy us half an hour, tops. Until then, I have to get you down to the safe room."

"No, I have to get you to the safe room," her father argued. "President Snow has commanded that I meet with him in the vault under his mansion, and I can't bring you."

"So you're just going to leave me at home? By myself? While there's a horde of angry rebels trying to destroy our house?"

"It's all I can do, angel. I'm sorry."

"But Dad, I can –– "

Apollo regretted what he did next. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tranquilizer pen, and jabbed it into Artemis's arm. The look in her eyes as she fell to the ground told him that what he had just done was unforgivable.

He left her, still unconscious, inside the locked safe room. He had left her weapons and armor on her personage, hoping that if it came to it, Artemis would have a fighting chance. Then, trying to ignore the guilt that gnawed at him, he left.

He had been captured by the rebels shortly after, and had not seen his daughter face-to-face ever since. Now it was understandable to him why Artemis had felt like he had abandoned her. He wondered if he would ever see her again, and when, exactly, his execution was supposed to be.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard the opening of a door. "Which one is Apollo Gossamer's cell?" asked a man's voice from the hallway.

"Right there," another said. "Are they –– "

"They are," replied the first man. "Angelico, Lyre, and the others are next. I just thought that Gossamer might like it first, seeing as… well, you know."

"Yeah," said the second. "Go right on in. But careful."

Execution time, thought Apollo grimly as the many footsteps approached his door. Then the door swung open, revealing two guards, and between them, a young woman in a black strapless dress.

"Dad!" she cried, ignoring the guards and rushing forward.

"Artemis!" he responded, catching her in a hug. "My little girl… oh, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Dad," she whispered, tears streaking down her face.

"I'm sorry."

This caused her to retreat and look at him quizzically. "For what? Oh," she sighed as she read the answer in his dark brown eyes. "I forgive you. I'm sorry for saying… what I did."

"Artie, what you said made me realize what I did. I'm glad you said it. I'm so proud of you, angel. For everything."

"Thanks, Dad." She smiled sadly. He looked beyond her to the people waiting in the open door. Angelico's son was there, still in his unkempt suit, and watching Apollo carefully. Their gazes locked for a brief second and he saw in the younger boy's black, shadowed eyes a flicker of emotion… regret? Sadness? Apollo was the only one to see the faint, melancholy smile on Caius's lips before the boy hung his head.

"How long do we have together?" Apollo asked Artemis, turning his eyes back to her.

"As long as you want," replied Artemis.

"But the execution –– "

"What execution? You're being released."

Apollo almost could not believe his ears. "Wh –– what? I mean, I'm glad, but… why?"

"I persuaded President Paylor to sign a treaty known as the Gossamer Deal," explained Artemis. "It pardons all of the surviving tributes and our relatives, along with the relatives of the deceased tributes, of all former crimes and releases us. We'll be under close surveillance for a year or so, but we'll be free."

"Artemis…" exhaled Apollo, gazing into his daughter's eyes. Artemis only smiled faintly, then hugged him again. "I love you, Artemis."

She hesitated, then whispered, "I love you too, Dad."

Aww…father/daughter lovie dovies. Man, I am horrible at these. Tried it with Saige and her dad in Death's Deception and it turned out almost as badly as this one. Sorry for the badly written fluff, but I felt this chapter was really necessary.

Oh! Almost forgot. Cai? Is there something you'd like to say?

Caius: *considers this* Not at the moment, no.

Me: *whacks him upside head*

Caius: Ow! Okay, okay, fine. I'll say it. You're welcome.

Me: No, you were supposed to say thank you!

Caius: We're talking about all of the blueberries I let the reviewers have and didn't disembowel you for, right?

Me: No, we're talking about the blueberries that chocykitty persuaded me to give back to you.

Caius: WHAT? She –– she persuaded YOU to give them back to ME?!

Me: Yeah. And you can thank the other reviewers too, who sympathized with your lack of fruit. But I still ––

Caius: THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! You guys are all awesome! I love you!

Artemis: *clears throat* Ahem…?

Caius: What? Oh, crap.

Artemis: *beats Caius upside the head with Wilbur the stuffed pig* ARE YOU BEING UNFAITHFUL, CAIUS ADRIAN ANGELICO? I WON'T MARRY YOU IF I'M NOT YOUR ONE AND ONLY LOVE!

Caius: Ahhh! Not this AGAIN!

Me: Hahahaha –– hey, wait! Give me back Wilbur! *jumps into fight wielding my favorite blue pillow*

Petronius: PILLOW FIGHT!

Cornelius: Awesome!

Julius: I'm in!

Marius: EPIC!

Caius: No, wait, guys, NO –– ! *gets squished under me, Artemis, Petronius, Wilbur, Cornelius, Julius, Marius, and a lot of pillows* So…not…cool…

Me: That's what ya get for tying me up and not being a grateful character…seriously, how many writers do I know who get held hostage by their own OCs? Plain weird. Just plain weird. Meh.

You guys all out there review, okay? Review and enjoy this pretty mind picture of me, Artemis, and Caius being squished under four monstrous tributes, got it?