What You Have To Offer

by ElleLDoe

Beth managed to survive the 72nd Hunger Games at 18. Sometimes she wished she hadn't. But deep down she had to admit that her life wasn't all that bad the way it turned out. People were falling over themselves to hand her anything and everything she could ever want, and all she had to do was keep up appearances. After all, her husband had an image to uphold.

1. Chapter 1

Originally posted on AO3.

This story contains dubious consent and an age gap relationship, if you are uncomfortable with this, please prioritize your mental health.

Catching Fire and Mockingjay Snow because they did him dirty in The Hunger Games.

Enjoy!

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Her head was spinning, her vision was blurry. All she saw was red, so much red everywhere, covering the ground and the rocks around her. The pain in her legs and chest told her to stop running while her mind begged her to keep going. Sharp, unnaturally white, teeth seemed to surround her.

Her eyes fluttered open and the teeth morphed into the harsh and sterile lines of a medical room inside the capitol.

Beth barely remembered the last couple hours. But everytime her eyes closed she was back there - surrounded by red and white. The dull pain running down her side, from her neck to her thigh, brought her back to reality while the soft humming and beeping of nearby machines seemed to try and sing her to sleep.

She was alone in the room as far as she could tell but there had to be people nearby. Scraps of conversation were coming from behind big glass doors to her left. The silhouettes of two people were visible through the milky glass.

'...surprising…'

'...this year was certainly an interesting one…'

'...and such a pretty one…'

Beth tried to lean closer to catch more of the conversation when a sharp pain shot through her. She looked down only to see red - her naked body covered in blood and dirt. A whimper barely made it out of her throat before it closed up. Her breathing became shallow while the machines started beeping rapidly and lights began to flash.

The doors swung open and a doctor rushed into the room.

'My, my, poor little thing, seems like we didn't give you a high enough dose.'

His words sounded sympathetic, but his tone seemed bored, and he certainly didn't seem to be in a rush when he pulled a syringe filled with anesthetics from a cabinet.

And the last thing Beth saw, before a feeling of warmth overtook her, was who happened to be behind those doors. One of this year's gamemakers and none other than President Snow. And while the gamemaker's eyes hungrily took in Beth's body, Snow's eyes were firmly focused on hers - staring into her soul.