Chapter Forty-Five - "Restitution"

Who'd thunk snow of all things would make me all warm inside.

In the rearmost car of the train, I find myself staring out the observation window and into the snowstorm that seems to be enveloping the route. We've hit a patch of pines and naturally the snow takes to them like lungs take to air, blanketing them ever so gently for miles on end. Reminds me of home. It might as well be home. I can see it now, coming home after so long, snuggling up to the fireplace with a warm cup of cocoa while enjoying the winter wonderland. But then it strikes me again. The mutt in the room.

With who, though? Who are you going to snuggle up with? Mom, Dad, Paulus…they're all dead.

I recline against the leather upholstery, working the kinks in my neck in an attempt to stave off the stress. I've been thinking about their absence since the day they died, this is nothing new. Ever since they hoisted me out of the arena I've been thinking about them a million times over. Celebrating with friends is one thing, but as they always say, blood is thicker than water.

I stifle my thoughts by mentally repeating the same sentence: "They may not be here physically, but they are out there…they have to be.".

I'm rescued from my brain when the doors hiss open and Viondra sashays into the room with Mars and Juniper. An Avox follows behind, balancing a platter holding glasses and wine. Swiping the bottle of the platter she dismisses him, pouring out two glasses of bubbly spirits and extending one towards me. It's the first time I've been offered an alcoholic beverage by an adult officially.

"Pills an' booze don't mix well, do they?" I ask wearily, giving both Mars and Jupiter chin rubs. The doctors gave me a strict medicine regimen to follow, to 'even my constitution'. Wouldn't want me snapping at the sound of loud noises, I guess.

"It helps me when I take my painkillers?" Viondra replies, shrugging as she breaks into a gentle cackle. "Better me than you, I suppose. Cheers. There'll be plenty more toasts in your near future anyways…"

I gesture in kind by inclining my head, watching her as she downs one glass like nobody's business and begins sipping on the other in my stead. Watch her drink so wantonly makes me wonder what type of student she was during her school days. I conclude she's a Domita type - every time is a good time and she's always down for bending the rules if it means there's fun to be had.

"Speaking of pills, you aren't seeing things are you?" Viondra asks, shooting me a concerned and pointed gaze.

"No…?" I answer shakily. After Emery's party, Viondra showed me unedited footage of my arena exploits and I could only watch silently as I saw myself go about it. What can I say? I was angry. Anger makes people do extraordinary things. "I-I swear I could've sworn he was with me. Mom sometimes as well..."

Viondra shrugs. "Probably. Family is a strong motivator in anything one does," she replies. "Take me for example. When I lost my brother, I went straight to headquarters demanding a more dangerous assignment."

I hum in agreement, quickly remembering the night in Viondra's quarters when I looked over her scrapbook and the images held within. It's no wonder she and I took to each other so easily. We're two girls with a thirst for revenge. Someway, somehow, fate made it so that we got it.

"And what of your pain? You're not hurting too badly, are you?" Viondra shakes her head. "Perhaps I should've thought the constantly supply of painkillers through…"

"I think I'll manage," I reply, quickly recalling what Eldwyn said to me on the morning of the finale. Something about my heart 'exploding'. Looking back, I'm surprised those painkillers didn't do me in. Once I returned to the Capitol, they made sure I'd manage during that weeklong recuperation, purging the drugs from my body.

Viondra throws one slender leg over the other, gesturing lazily with her free hand. "What's next for you, hm? Zenobia, Hero of Panem?"

I hum in thought. "Think I'm gonna continue school. 'Till the twelfth grade."

Viondra seems perplexed by my answer. "You don't have to, you know. In fact, you really don't have to…"

"I know. I just don't wanna be idle, is all," I say. I neglect to mention that Randall and the others are basically all the 'family' I have left. Would do me no good sitting around doing nothing. Speaking of 'Randall', I find myself obviously fidgeting with the promise ring Viondra had so kindly salvaged and tried to repair. "A lot of kids, after they wash out of the reaping pool or finish secondary, get hitched. Probably might forget about officer candidate school and marry Randall."

The more I think about it, the more certain I feel. Before the War, I didn't pay it much mind even with the promise ring. After everything that's happened, though, I can see it as clear as day. Randall being an upcoming officer, perhaps working at the Nut in an attempt to be closer to me while I tend to the children at home. How many? I'm not sure, all I know is that we'll be a family of strong-jawed brunettes and a competitive streak the length of the east coast to the west coast. Now that I'm really thinking about it, raising a child with Randall and I's traits combined would be quite the experience.

Somewhere in those thoughts, A scene plays out in which an indistinct girl breaks through the crowd crying out "I volunteer!". That's right, they'd follow in my footsteps, right? I'd imagine a lot of kids would want to follow in my footsteps.

I quickly abandon my mind, instead choosing to focus on Viondra.

My escort, seemingly going over my answer in her own head, nods approvingly. "I think you deserve that. Our minders back in the Capitol would surely love it, that's for sure."

"Why's that?"

Viondra takes another swig of her wine. "Gives the youth of the nation an example to follow, especially after the two-year debacle we just faced." She fixes me with a smile. "With any hope, the next few victors will be just like you. I'd imagine with you heading up the next generation, we will be alright."

Viondra's words give me one more thing to think about. With most of the previous victors dead or not accounted for, the Seventy-Sixth is like the new First with me leading the charge of, as Viondra says, the 'next generation'. Of course there's Kaiser and Serene. During the various parties in my name, the duo from One seemed excited enough to see me back. I wonder what their place in these times will be.

Outside, the patches of pine trees slowly intermix with familiar dwellings as we receive a message over the PA that we'll be arriving at the Centre. Viondra and I take the time to switch from our civilian wear to military uniforms. Sparse dwellings turn into the uniformed marble buildings of the administrative center I know and love. I feel the train slowing to a crawl and that's when I hear the muffled roars of other people.

Curious, I can't help but peer through one of the windows again and marvel at the billboards that depict my image. We haven't even arrived at the station yet and people are already receiving us on balconies waving banners or pressing up against windows to catch a glimpse of the train rolling in. A call from Viondra kicks me back into gear, putting on the rest of my clothes and throwing on my overcoat.

Viondra, it seems, hasn't stopped grinning since I returned from the arena. She closes the distance between us, looking me over like a doting mother. Smoothing down my beret, she clasps both of my shoulders.

"Did I tell you how proud I am of you?" she croons.

My lips twist into a playful scrounge. "Many, many times."

"You'll get used to it." she replies, rubbing my shoulders. "Ready to face your adoring public? Again?"

I feel flush all of a sudden, recalling the various nights in the dead city of my arena when I would brainstorm the various scenarios of my potential homecoming. Now here I am, about to experience my homecoming.

I nod. "Ready as I'll ever be…"

Smiling, Viondra gestures grandly towards the train's exit. "Welcome home, Zenobia."

I position myself towards the doors. The windows are polarized, further adding to the suspense of it all…as well as my unease. To fend it off, I sigh deeply, giving my neck a twist from side to side. As I do this, I feel the snake link necklaces of my family's ID disks against my skin. I close my eyes briefly and take a split second to recall their faces. Look at me guys… I did it. Y'proud? Betcha are.

The doors hiss open. I bound forward. Through my peripherals I see the usual cameras, the white and black uniforms of fellow Academy cadets with others dotted in. Hells, I even see the beaming faces of Bea, Domita, Ryder and Garrison. They weren't the faces I cared about. At least not right now. My vision is focused entirely on Randall's. As if I were on rails, I began to make my way straight towards him and he towards me. We meet each other halfway and I sigh heavily into his arms while crashing into him. I inhale the scent of him, relishing in the way he squeezes me back, telling me all I need to know about him missing me just as much as I missed him. Through the singular eye that isn't crushed up against Randall's chest I watch as the crowd cheers. You'd think they'd be louder, but maybe that's because Randall's racing heart is pounding through my ears.

"Hey. Look here." with one hand wrapped around my back, he uses his free hand to tilt my chin towards his singular eye. I'd forgotten that the War had taken his other one. Who cares, he's still handsome. One kid, two kids, a dozen? Don't matter, they'll have his jaw. Sons 'specially. "You're one crazy girl, you know that?" I'm surprised to hear him of all people have a tone on the verge of crying. "Crazy crazy crazy girl…"

"Gonna have to live with that." planting one hand on his collarbone, I give him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I made them a promise, Rand. Said I was gonna get 'em back."

"Boy did you…" he replies back, chuckling.

We're torn from our little world now as Bea and Domita envelop me in a group hug. Coupled with the cheering and applause, it's all so much. Bea cries like a mother would, Domita sings my praises about how much of a 'badass' I am and Forge, the awkward thing he is, gives me a handshake of all things.

"Congratulations of the highest order…are in order," he says over the booming crowd.

Not caring about his awkwardness, I pull him into the group hug as well. Laughing, I tell him, "So much for your 'gray man' strat, eh Garri?!"

Adjusting his glasses he guffaws. "You sure burned that bridge."

A distracting flash takes us out the moment. It's Callista of course, getting her snapshots for the yearbook, no doubt.

"I do so love happy endings," she drawls, her eyes lingering on me as she sends a wink my way.

I grin back. "Nice to see you too, Ryder."

With the gang back together, I turn my attention back to the crowd. It's like having extended family, really. I never had much of an issue with any of my fellow cadets. I take the time to do the customary handshakes and hugs with each one I come into contact with. I spot Dr. Rhoades and Sgt. Floris among the students. Even Commandant Rudiger and Academy Sergeant-Major Hayes were there, sporting proud grins where disappointed frowns once were.

"Did I represent well, Ma'am?" I ask the Commandant over the crowd.

The Commandant's grin holds as she gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "We have a lot to, discuss, Rivendell. Speak soon."

I nod in kind as I release from her, feeling a sense of elation at the fact that what started as a suicide mission turned out into all this. Having the admiration of the Commandant, my fellow cadets, the District and he Capitol as a victor heading up the…what did Viondra call it? The 'next generation'?

Paulus and my parents are no longer living but they can most definitely rest easy knowing that I will be o-k.

The cheers are reaching fever pitch now as some senior boys I quickly recognize as Paulus's buddies grab me by the waist and hoist me into the air. I can only hang on as everyone chants my name. I spare a glance at a grinning Viondra who hangs back, seemingly enjoying the show.

Ever since I first glimpsed them on holovision, I've always wondered what it'd be like to live in Victors Village. Paulus was the Rivendell 'standard bearer' for victor so when he passed Advanced Career Training the 'what if' was becoming more and more of a reality.

"When I win the Seventy-Sixth, we're gonna have one big party at mines." Paulus would boast. "The other victors'll love your cookin', Ma. Love it so much they'd hire you right then an' there."

I come back to the here and now, focusing my attention on a sizeable chunk of rubble near my feet. Nudging it, I lift my head up towards its probable owner - the ruins of what was a mansion here in Two's Victors Village. It isn't just this one. All of them are in varying states of destruction from burned out to a pile of rocks. I'm surprised they let us past the newly-erected barrier that surrounds the neighborhood.

"What happened?" I ask Viondra. At the Academy, alongside a hundred or so fallen cadets, they'd also told us that none of our victors survived the War. Domita's cousin, Wade Rankine of the Seventy-Third, fell in battle. That's the extent of my knowledge.

My escort glares pointedly at the rest of the gang, who were allowed to join me by virtue of being an accessory to my survival. "None of this leaves here."

"Our collective lips are sealed," says Ryder.

"It was an organized raid. Just like how they attacked your Academy," Viondra explains while slowly striding forward. Like eager students, we follow her. "Two's victors - barring the obvious - are naturally loyal. Just as we took note of the troublesome victors, The Thirteens took note of loyal victors." Viondra scoops up an empty shell casing, holding it up for us to see. "And so Two's victors, their families - at least those who were present at the time - are all gone."

We stop at the central fountain, all dried up and blanketed by snow. Doesn't bother Domita none as she sits down on it. She doesn't look too good, constantly massaging her temples and widening her eyes.

"You okay, Domita?" I ask.

She nods. "Just a migraine."

"Perhaps you should cover up, Wilson," says Viondra. "I imagine exposing yourself to the cold isn't helping…"

"Can't help that I'm so damn warm no matter what I do…"

"Speaking of 'raids', I heard they did the same in District 1 also," says Garrison. "Raiding the higher-ranking families, killing the loyalists, victors included."

"That's right," Viondra affirms with a nod. "They were even more cloak and dagger in One than they were here. I'm impressed two of their victors, Serene and Kaiser, managed to live." she turns to me now. "Guess who had a hand in Two's raid?"

Through closed lips I clench my teeth. His name didn't even need to be spoken. Randall catches onto my mood, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb. We all watch Domita as she rises to her feet and moves slightly ahead of the pack.

"Look on the bright side," she chimes, stopping in front of the nearest mansion. "We have Zenobia, right? I'd say that's worth it's weight in gold, no?"

I find myself looking to Viondra, all of us do, watching as she breaks out into a full-blown smile.

"I couldn't agree more."

I might be out of a mansion, but given my plan to at least finish secondary school - which has room and board anyway - its best that I stick close to the gang and my fellow students. Chances are the mansion would sit empty for the better part of a year given that I would have to attend the Academy. And despite Domita's insistence of sleeping over, my friends have their lives to live too.

With the brief walkaround of the Village over with, we turn our attention to tonight where apparently a banquet is being thrown in my honor. No district official had truly met or spoken with me since I left the station, I guess the banquet is why. The Academy uniform is formal enough for mess wear so when we arrive it's just a matter of freshening up and tossing on a new set. With the addition of the recent 'add-ons' in the form of the gold laurel crown, Hero of Panem medal as well as the medal I got before volunteering just by virtue of being a cadet during the Rebellion, one would think I was a full-fledged veteran.

Randall seems disappointed when the girls and I join him and Garrison on their floor. "What's the matter?"

Amused, I watch his cheeks run hot. He compensates by folding his arms, shrugging. "I was kinda hopin' for that interview dress. You looked perfect in it."

I ignore the giggles of Domita and the others behind me. "Being in the Capitol has made me appreciate civvie clothes, that's for sure," I reply.

Viondra whisks me away from Randall and the gang as they join the three thousand strong student body and faculty in the central dining facility. The newly-christened Rankine Hall. I'm still getting used to the fact that I'm the one being announced to audiences. Like the flurry of parties I attend back in the Capitol after my victory, Viondra walks me in to wild applause and seats me at the head of a table with the likes of the Commandant and the Capitol-appointed 'provisional governor'. Even with the designated times to eat, I don't do much of it as I'm constantly chatting one official or another.

Of all the faces that pass me by, the newly-appointed Defense Minister, General Romulus Thread, is the one that garners my interest above the others. I'm used to seeing him on holovision, 'leading from the front' as many like to say, spearheading the Capitol's 'renewed offensive' against rebel forces. With his tall figure and hard black eyes, my heart can't help but flutter as he takes my dainty hand in his thick one.

"Rommie Thread, in the flesh," I breathe. "It's an honor, sir…"

He pumps my hand as if he were drawing water, using his free hand to clap me on the shoulder. "Damn good showing out there, Rivendell. Damn good showing."

Like any military mess dinner, members of the faculty bob and weave through the tables with pitchers of posca, sharing it out liberally to senior students and other guests. It's now that I find out I'm not only a hero to the entire nation, but a 'District Hero' as well, earning another medal to that effect. There are awards given to students as wartime dispatches are verified, as well as the run-of-the-mill academic awards.

I join the packed dining hall in a standing ovation for Beatrix, who was also made a 'District Hero' for marshalling Two's resources to aid in my survival. Her feat is easily more deserving than my 'District Hero' status simply by virtue of being a victor.

Then comes the customary toasts. We toast to District, Capitol, president and country and naturally as the guest of honor, I have to make one too.

It rolls off my tongue seamlessly. Standing before the rows of tables before me, I gesture my cup to the memorial wall on the other side of the campus, as well as to the far end of the room where a table stands. That table, and all it's chairs, remain empty. To serve as a reminder of the faculty and cadets we've lost. Typically on occasions like these, one small table is set aside. This isn't a typical occasion, though.

"To our fallen friends and family!" I say. "I hope their sacrifices bring on a better Panem for everyone."

Because that's all anyone ever wanted right? A 'better Panem'. Better to have it under the Capitol than the likes of a Thirteen or a lower-districtman. Audible remarks of agreement can be heard as the room joins me in downing our glasses.

After the formalities, many of us move to the dance floor to shake the calories off. Despite being a self-described 'jack-of-all-trades', dancing is one domain I'm lacking experience in. It takes Bea to pull me to the dancefloor and participate in a series of easy-to-do line dances.

I can't help but notice that Domita is off the dance floor as quick as she is on it. In all my years of knowing her, Domita Wilson has never been the wallflower type. I leave her be when she returns my cautionary thumbs up.

And of course, there are some slow music numbers to dance to. Academy rules against open fraternization seems to be lax this evening as multiple couples take to the floor. It doesn't take long for Randall to find me, as I receive a telltale tap on the shoulder as soon as the band transitions.

"One-eyed dancing," he deadpans, sighing while extending a hand towards me. "Wonder how this is gonna work…"

Grinning, I take his hand in mine, tugging him deeper into the crowd. "Let's find out together."

It's slightly awkward, compounded with the fact that I - and by extension him - are the stars of the evening. I lead us off at first and Randy, never the quitter, gains his bearings and takes my place. There we go, easy enough. I grin to myself, thinking of this dance as 'practice' for when the real deal comes - which is coming very soon I reckon. Laying my head on Randy's shoulder, I give Ryder a subtle finger as she does her camera work along with the other reporters. Saving the evening for posterity, I guess.

"Penny for your thoughts?" asks Randall.

"They're all over the place," I reply. "One thing I know for sure is I'm glad I'm here with you."

He gently nuzzles the crown of my head with his jaw. "I don't have words. Just know I was talking with my ma and pop while you were gone. You have nothing t'worry about as far as family goes. We're here for you."

I respond by burrowing myself deeper into his chest. There are other thoughts in mind. Thoughts such as the chronic shortages happening outside the confines of the Academy. I can't help but wonder to myself how Bea managed to get so many Twos to part with their much-needed money over something as risky as sponsoring me. It's beyond me. So, I don't think about any of it. Instead I think up of ways to give back to Two as best I can and conclude that I will, soon.

At that moment, a singular face flashes through my mind and the startling realization hits me like a bolt of lightning. "Damn it!"

Thankfully the crowd applauding the band stifles my outburst. Randy hears it, though. "What's the matter, Zen?"

"Nothin'," I reply, clapping along aimlessly with the others. The epiphany took me out of the present entirely. "Just somethin' I gotta do…"

It's funny.

At first Eldwyn was just another dirty reb who was going to die like the rest of them. And then we shared a brief moment on the hovercraft and I figured him slightly less worse than the rest of them. When Lilith and I were hanging over a pack of flesh-hungry mutts, I thought it would end with me falling to my death while the two of them mocked me from above. Instead, the night ended with both of us learning something about the other. He was no longer 'just a reb' to me just as I was no longer 'brainwashed' to him.

Point being, if Emery were any less brave, it'd be him here with me.

A bump in the road brings me back to the present. In the passenger cabin of a SJ-7 Assault Transport, I'm squished between two burly Peacekeepers, all armed and dressed for battle. Even Viondra across the way has taken to wearing armor over the issued cold weather suit, her sidearm strapped to her thigh.

"S'all this necessary?" I ask her aloud. I couldn't help but notice as soon as I woke up from recovery that we were almost always tailed by people in suits or Peacekeepers. This is the most overt showing I've seen.

Viondra leans forward. "While we were away, some stupid rebel was drunk enough to storm the gates of the Academy by himself." I quirk a brow as she continues. "We received word that despite damn near everyone loving you, some are 'less than amused'. We're a month off a war ending too, so, security stays until further notice!"

Fair enough. I rest against my seating, returning a friendly nod from the squad leader on my right. I'd want to kill me too, considering all I've done. Those people brought it on themselves and because of that, they have no one else to blame.

"How come he didn't attend Overwhill?" Viondra asks. "Eldwyn. He looked the sort, at least in my eyes."

"Not everyone wants t'be a PK," I reply. "Somebody's gotta man the quarries, factories, so forth."

"No, I mean, why rebel at all?" Viondra continues. "Twos are supposed to be loyal to a tee. The Guardians of the Capitol."

"Resentment." the deep voice of the squad leader startles me a tad. "Some villages have historically been a thorn in the Capitol's side. The Academy and the youth groups only have so much reach."

From the Squad Leader I look at Viondra who seems satisfied by the answer. I agree wholeheartedly. I've lost count of the many instances of going on trips around Two as a cadre and encountering other groups of sneering students. The squad leader is right. Resentment and ungratefulness is widespread in some villages. It's because of Overwhill cadets that their pathetic asses aren't cannon fodder.

The Bishop Family don't live far from the Center, living in a hilly village about an hour away. Eldwyn's house sits on the crest of one, a dark-roofed, two story, baby blue place that would go well on a postcard. I make sure to make the trudge up the snow-covered driveway without the extra muscle.

Viondra isn't having any of it. "I'll be damned if anything happens to you."

I give her a tired, pointed look as I gesture to her and the squad of PKs. Not to mention her muttated puppies. "You're only going to make it worse…"

"However so?" Viondra replies. "And if it does, what will they do about it?"

To emphasize my tiredness, I droop my shoulders. Ms. Bishop lost her son and husband and if her pain is as bad as mine was and is, she'd probably wish for one of the PKs would put a bullet in her. There's no need to rub it in.

Realizing that I'm not moving, Viondra rolls her eyes and turns to the nearest PK, silently motioning for the squad to 'fan out'. I continue my trudge up onto the verandah, make my way towards the door and knock, focusing on the impromptu 'growth chart' on one of the painted posts. I notice Eldwyn's name a few times.

The door opens part way, part way enough to take in the pale face of Mrs. Bishop. With her unkempt shoulder bob, fastened robe and tear-stained face, she looks like she hasn't left the house in a number of days. I'm immediately drawn back to the days following my…attack. Every time I stumbled into the bathroom, I'd have the same clumpy hair and tear-ridden face - the result of my mourning for my destroyed family. While I'm at a loss of words at the resemblance, Mrs. Bishop seems at a loss that I am standing on her porch.

She blinks away the shock, replacing it with a deep frown as she moves to shut the door. "Don't have anything to say to you-"

My foot seconds as a wedge, keeping the door open. "Yeah? Well I do." I exhale through the nose in an attempt to check myself. "Listen, Mrs. Bishop, I'm sor-"

"I don't care for your fuckin' 'sorry'!" the older woman shrieks, flinging the door open. "Just when I thought my boy, my sweet sweet Eldy would come home where he belongs, I lose everything! Does a 'sorry' do anything to fix what's been destroyed?! Does it!?"

Before I can fume back in response, I spy Eldwyn's younger sisters beyond their mother, all wide-eyed. They're the only reason I don't clap back.

"No, ma'am, it doesn't," I reply evenly, keeping my hands firmly to my sides "Don't know if you've been followin' along, but I've experienced loss as well. I'm the last branch of a dead family tree. Heard plenty of 'sorries' myself, didn't make the situation any better though. I prefer tangibles. Actions. So I took it myself."

There's an awkward pause in the air. Mrs. Bishop huffs out a 'humph' in response. In her mind, I'm probably a 'murderer' for the actions I took when in reality I was only taking the eye I was owed. Ignoring her fiery glare, I quickly present the envelope of ration cards to her.

"What I mean t'say is, I'm takin' action to do what's right in regards to Eldwyn." I present the package to her again. "Take it. S'enough to last you the next little while."

She glares indignantly at the package. "Don't want your charity."

"It ain't 'charity', it's a 'thank you'," I press. "You saw it yourself, Eldwyn could've left me to tumble to my death but he opted to save me. Despite everyone's sayin' so, I ain't a superhero. No victor is, really. Y'know, 'helping hands' and all that? He helped me, so I am helping him. Take it."

I can see it in her face, the way the resistance ebbs away. She knows I'm right, yet she still plays ignorant.

"You know damn well, Miss, that the Capitol are consolidating their win," I continue. "There will be more retributions. Eldwyn might not be an outright reb, but others in your family were and who knows how that'll effect you. Food, cut wages….Don't be a fool. Take. It."

The older woman remains frozen, her eyes glossy with tears as she still makes no move to take the envelope from me. What I'm saying might be striking a chord but it's true. She should be grateful I even bothered to remember Eldwyn in the first place. I have half a mind to toss it into the home and be on my way, and I almost do, before one of Eldwyn's sibs, about Emery's age, moves to the side of her mother and claims the envelope from my hands. Opening it, she marvels at the contents.

"You gave us so many…" she mumbles, glancing at me with her dull blue eyes.

"Didn't hear it from me, but it's gonna be a while 'fore more shipments start comin' in," I explain. "They might even further expand our industry beyond rocks an' guns so we don't need to rely on one place for food no more. Change is comin', but you need to last till it comes, kay?"

On the verge of tears, she nods. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"So…the judge isn't as wholly unforgiving as I thought she was…" muses Viondra, watching me now as I trudge past her towards the SJ-7.

As a Peacekeeper moves to open the door, I twist my head towards my escort. "Just payin' it forward. Nothing more, nothing less."

New faces take the place of Eldwyn's during the ride back into the Center. The always optimistic face of Syndra, the mock-serious one of Cicero, Daphne and Max as well. The more I think about it, the more I realize how brazen this whole ordeal was. Me literally throwing myself into the mutt trap that was the Seventy-Sixth Hunger Games. If not for them admiring me and opting to join me, then what?

I give my head a shake, resting it against the seating behind me. Maybe it's for the best to just not think beyond the box on that one.

With New Year's around the corner, the bulk of the cadets at Overwhill return back to their various homes, leaving me with an empty house to return to, oh so I thought. First off, the front of our foursquare home is now shrouded by tall hedges where hedges weren't before. Glaring down a grinning Viondra, I open the door to see The Boys - Fletcher, Wyatt and Amir in what is now my kitchen.

"Zenobia!" they cry out, each of them gently enveloping me into a hug.

I'm taken aback from multiple angles. Part of me is happy they've surprised me yet the other half is confused about why my home seems so different. "Hey guys…What'd you do?"

As District 2 unraveled over a year ago, the house that I left was a classic home, a generational hand-me-down from Mother's side of the family. The most notable feature of the Rivendell home was the dove gray wall paint with white accents, cream carpeting and vintage-but-functional furniture. This had all been seemingly rehauled by the trio, with the dove gray now a royal blue, the carpeting replaced with hardwood flooring and all the furniture looking like something out of a Capitol catalogue.

"We thought we would help you spruce up the place!" gushes Fletcher.

"Especially with the Victors' Village being out of commission unfortunately," adds Wyatt lamely. "And from what we hear, it will be for the next little bit."

Amir offers Wyatt a shoulder pat. "Gods would I have loved to add my touch to that place…ugh."

My space fills with the heavy scent of vanilla as Viondra places a manicured hand on my shoulder. "What do you think?"

I play mindlessly with one of the 'Lazy Susans' in the cupboards. Mom, being a lover of home improvement, would've approved for sure. Still, I can't help but feel a tad curious about how this all came to be. "You guys couldn't've pulled this together in a few days time, so you're tellin' me this was done while I was in the arena?" All eyes turn to Viondra, who still wears a grin on her lips as she shrugs casually.

I snort. "You were that confident, huh?"

"Part of me wondered if I was too confident," she replies. "I for one am glad it all worked out."

"I'm glad it worked out too," I reply evenly, wondering to myself about what would happen to this place if things didn't work out. The district would probably repurpose it for another family. Shrugging, I open the overflowing pantry. These foodstuffs weren't here before, that's for sure. "How about some dinner, my treat?"

We spend the evening dining on pasta and meat sauce made by yours truly. Judging from the asking of seconds from the rather slim-looking Capitolites, I seem to have done a good job. Mars and Juniper really like the sauce. If they weren't animals, I would put the dishes they ate out of back into the cupboard the way they licked them clean. Soon, night turned to morning and it was time to say goodbye to the team that saw me through the Capitol and back. The Boys constrict me in another one of their group hugs.

Fletcher nuzzles my forehead. "We might not be able to style you in civilian wear just yet, but we'll make sure your victory tour uniforms are nothing but choice!"

The Academy-issued uniforms were nice looking and could get tailored to get a even nicer cut but in the hands of my preps. I give Fletcher's hand a firm pump. "I look forward to what you guys cook up."

It's Viondra's turn to say goodbye. "See you in due time. The details will be forthcoming but I think you're smart enough a cookie understand the assignment."

I nod halfheartedly. Unlike most tours, I imagine there'll be a lot more shaking hands and kissing of babies. Part of me wonders if its truly safe to venture away from the confines of the Capitol and 2. Then again, if they have me surrounded by a squad of hulking PKs right now, I'd imagine they'd have a whole company of them protecting me in a place like District 11.

Viondra notices my sloppy attitude, folding her arms as she softly-yet-playfully asks, "What's the matter, missing us already?"

"Yes and no," I reply. Ever since I've gotten off the train, I've been thinking more and more about what I truly want. Now that I'm here, alive, after everything I've gone through to return here, I might as well get on with what I have in mind. I deserve it. We deserve it. I fiddle with my promise ring. "...I know its the holidays and you have family and what not, but do you mind holdin' off for just a day or two?"

"Given the circumstances and all, I must say, this makes for a quirky discussion," says Mr. Pilsner, grinning. "But I'm here for it every step of the way."

"I just wish Brigitta and Marcus were here," Mrs. Pilsner sighs. "That would make it all the more wonderful."

Mr. Pilsner puffs from his pipe. "They're here in spirit Helga. I'd reckon they'd want this." he eyes his son now. "What say you, Randy? Ready to 'get right into it'?"

From the retired major, I turn my around the table back to Randall, who still caresses my hand in his. Mrs. Pilsner sits on the other side of him, eyes full of yearning. It's what every mother wants for their children, a good wife and some grandchildren to go along with it. Unlike our parents , marrying older after their enlistment, some general orders came down a few weeks ago allowing full marriage for all ranks not just Capitol officers. All the more better to give us time to establish ourselves before Randall pursues his training.

Randall chuckles softly. "Yeah. Yeah I am. I just wish that I uh…had more to show for it? You know, like our own home. Not yours."

Silently, I agree. As far as I've been taught, its the husband that heads the home. My status as a victor - let alone a national hero - makes the pairing somewhat awkward. I think we'll power through regardless.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Pilsner says with a wave of her hand. "Life made it so that this is the way the leaves fall."

"When the two of you graduate, you'd already have a ready-made address. Less headache on your end," adds Mr. Pilsner.

"Is that really plausible?" Viondra leans against the kitchen island. "I forget that district marry younger, but in while in school?"

"School has rules against 'fraternization'. They only clock you if you flaunt your relationship openly." I continue caressing Randall's hand. "Technically with this promise ring, he proposed to me already. I've been wearing it for months, yet our relationship didn't change much. Doubt marriage will."

"She had her things to do and I had mine," Randall finishes, smiling. I smile back. That's right. We're our own people. It's the perfect time.

Viondra seems to agree, huffing, "Looking at you guys, I guess I should be getting a move on in regards to the marriage part. My mother thinks twenty-one is the sweetspot, anything over twenty-five is 'spoiled'..."

Amused, Mrs. Pilsner shakes her head. "How old are you, dear?"

"Twenty-three, ma'am. Twenty-four in August."

"A happy medium then." Randall and I politely grin as the three adults laugh.

Mr. Pilsner nods, exhaling excess smoke from his pipe. "I guess that settles it, then."

Viondra raises the question of using my popularity as a of morale boost by having a public wedding. It makes sense, two decorated 'soldiers' - conscripted cadets, but soldiers all the same - during a time when being a soldier is popular. Getting married would serve, as Viondra describes it; "Multiple purposes". We decide we'll go public the summer of the year we graduate classes.

As for the present, all our closest friends and their parents are more than happy to attend. Callista, having the privilege of moving back and forth, returns back from the Capitol immediately, alongside the cadre of staff Viondra requested to help cater. She and The Boys even managed to get my interview dress shipped down with Callista. A treat for Randy.

"What about Emery?" I ask Viondra.

The escort shrugs, sparking up a cigarette. "What about her? You've seen her, do you really want that around?"

I don't reply. I'm sure Emery would've been happy enough to come along, as she was pretty curious about the ring. Maybe it's for the best she have all the time in the world to recuperate from the arena.

On the twenty-first of December, like everyone else, we attend the Justice Building to make it official. People traffic is low due to the restricted area, weather, holiday season and the solemn promise of the provisional governor - who happens to be Domita's aunt who is invited anyway - to keep others away. The 'perfect storm' if you ask me. Even the ballroom, with it's velvet and gold upholstery, doesn't need to be decorated, as we just came off a war and it'd be poor taste.

Mr. Pilsner is right when he says we're 'getting right into it'. It hasn't even been forty-eight hours since we decided yet here I am, being put together for my 'big day'. For inspiration sake, I made sure to bring an old photo of Mom and Dad's wedding day portrait. Besides a nice compare and contrast, it being here doesn't bode well for my confidence. She probably felt the same way I do now, extremely nervous.

"I'm a victor for crying out loud-" I pause, quickly flushing with embarrassment. Did I say that out loud? I guess, because Wyatt and Amir are giggling softly to themselves while Fletcher clucks his tongue.

"I'm no marriage advisor, but you'll be fiine," he coos, smoothing down my shoulders. "Remember, this is natural. You deserve this."

He's right. Randall promised me something better as soon as I returned to him. Of course he meant in a year's time but what difference does it make.

"Are you ready?" asks Fletcher. Wyatt and Amir have since left to find their seats. He's the one I've chosen to walk me down. "They're ready for you."

I nod. "Yes, I'm ready."

"Repeat it in your head," he says. "You deserve this. After everything that's happened, you deserve this."

I recite it as advised. I deserve this, I deserve this. It was meant to be. I do this all the way down the aisle, smiling from cheek to cheek, ignoring the dozens of eyes that follow my every move until Fletcher hands me off to Randall who I lock hands with. The Boys did some work on his suit, too. A charcoal, three-piece number that contrast well with my dress.

"Your favorite dress," I tease quietly.

He reveals a lively smile. "You look perfect," he says back, chuckling as he adds, "You look perfect as per usual, yeah, but even moreso now."

I gently run a thumb over his eyepatch. "Right back atcha."

Randall gently tucks a stray hair back into place, prompting both our smiles to widen even more.

An 'awwh' causes me to spare a glance towards the right most front row seat, where a select of our most trusted schoolmates sit. Among them are the usual suspects. Callista can't help but capture the moment on her camera, Bea is beside herself, drying away tears while Domita grips onto Garrison's hand for dear life.

After exchanging some vows, we move onto the traditional District 2 custom. We watch as Garrison, Wyatt and Amir wheel out a suspended marble slab. We have Randall's parents present the ornate sledgehammer that he and I will use to overcome our 'first obstacle' as husband and wife.

I wanted to make a dark joke about the Games. "Volunteering and surviving the Hunger Games is more than enough, no?!" but I hold my tongue. The Games were just something I had to do. Instead, I unite with Randall as we take hold of the handle and slam it down onto the slab, shattering it. The pieces can be molded into heirlooms and gifts to select guests when the time comes. Not to mention our respective rings.

With that, the famous words are said. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." we both blush. In our two or so years of courting, the kisses we shared have varied in intensity. The moments were few and far and I've been holding back. Seemingly conscious of my condition regarding intimacy, Randall embraces me with a hug before kissing me. It reminds me of our reuniting after my getting off the train but a lot more intense.

We part and turn toward the applauding audience. A number of people are teary-eyed with joy. The Boys most notably, with Mrs. Pilsner being an honorable mention. Viondra, with that all knowing grin, claps along. Despite all the joy, there's a Mom, Dad and Paulus-shaped hole in my heart that despite the upsides in contrast to the loss of them, cannot be filled. I don't think it ever can be. I caress Randall's knuckles. He replies with a subtle nod, craning down to kiss my temple. My smile renews.

I deserve this.

[!] - For your viewing pleasure, there's an art piece of the two girls chatting on the train. It's too big to upload to the main site. So if you have the time, here is the link; imgur dot com/a/S12ItYg

In regards to the remainder of the story? I think I can genuinely say that this week is the last week of updates before everything is finished. I can also *genuinely say* that you can expect rapid updates every other day...I suppose.