The Future Isn't What It Used To Be

by Professor R.J Lupin1

"You're dying a legend, darling. Isn't that what you always wanted?" / Or, the world is still waiting for Elara Cygnus to step into the spotlight. (Fic for VE 2023)

There's a knock at the door. Ione looks up from the book she's pretending to read. "Were you expecting anyone?" she says to Theoden, who only shakes his head in response.

It's awfully late for visitors, and it's not as if Theoden and Ione get visitors often in the daytime anyway. Ione looks at him for a moment, and then puts her book down and heads to answer the door.

The porch light is on, casting away the shadows on their street. Ione takes one more look over her shoulder. She can still see Theoden sitting on the couch, illuminated by the dim lamp beside him as he scribbles something in his journal. She shakes her head and answers the door.

It's like looking in the mirror for the first time in a decade. She's aged exactly how Ione has, and it's a stark realization that they truly are not kids anymore. Somehow, still, she looks exactly how Ione remembers her, even though she doesn't. She's really an adult now, a full grown woman, and it seems wrong because Ione wasn't there to see it happen. She saw it happen to herself, every day when she looked in the bathroom mirror, but apparently at some point, they grew up.

"Honey, who is it?" Theoden says, appearing behind Ione and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. She can't see his face, but she can hear the intake of breath at the sight of who stands in the doorway.

It really is like looking in a mirror.

"Elara," Ione says neutrally.

For a long moment, they only stare at each other, like they can't quite believe they're looking at each other after all this time.

"Um," Ione says. "Do you want to come in?"

Elara nods, peering around the house as Ione and Theoden part to let her in.

"This is—" Ione says, looking at Theoden. "My husband. Theoden."

The look on Elara's face tells Ione that she's surprised. After a moment, she takes Theoden's outstretched hand and shakes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Theoden says, grinning like he does. "I've heard a lot about you."

(He hasn't. Ione never talks about her family. The only reason he knows who Elara is is because she and his wife share a face.)

Elara finally lets go of Theoden's hand and says, "I'm…sorry to just drop in on you."

"It's…fine," Ione says. It's not, not really, because it's eleven o'clock at night and Elara and Ione haven't been in the same room in ten years.

They reach the living room, and Theoden offers Elara a drink. He disappears into the kitchen to make her a cup of tea, seemingly knowing that Elara and Ione need time to talk. Ione watches him go and wishes that Theoden was less considerate, less knowing, less of a good man.

She takes a seat in the armchair she was sitting in before, glancing at the book she was never read abandoned on the side table. Elara is sitting on the couch, separating the two of them by a distance of several feet. It feels like so much more.

"So," Ione says, getting right down to business. "What are you doing here?"

Elara shifts uncomfortably from her seat on the very edge of the couch. "Can't I just drop in to say hello to my sister?"

Ione fixes her with a baffled look. "We haven't seen each other in ten years, Elara. There's no such thing as "just dropping in to say hi" when you're estranged."

A tense silence follows, only broken by the distant sounds of Theoden making tea. Elara shifts again, fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater, and Ione wonders how she can stand to wear that in June.

"I just…needed to get away," Elara says.

"Away from what?" Ione says.

Elara is quiet for a moment, as if she is gathering her thoughts. She takes a deep breath—"I needed a change of pace. Sometimes I just can't stand being alone."

Ione's gaze snaps toward her, and any anger she might have still been harboring drains out of her body. "Elara…"

"I'm okay, now," Elara says. "Really. I'm fine. I just…felt like I needed to see you." She takes another deep breath. "It just occurred to me that I didn't know anything about you anymore. I look in the mirror every morning and see your face and—I just see you. And I couldn't stand to look at you anymore without knowing what's going on with you and I thought…"

"You thought?" Ione prompts in a gentle voice.

"I didn't want to be alone anymore."

This silence isn't nearly as tense. This silence is contemplative, as both of them try to process. Or at least, that it what Ione thinks is happening. Elara changes that idea when she stands suddenly and says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I'll get out of your—"

"Are you okay, Elara?" Ione interrupts, reaching out to stop Elara from leaving. Her hand falls short, still several feet away from Elara, and she doesn't get up to cover the distance.

Elara seems startled by the question. "Yes? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Seriously, Elara, I don't get this," Ione says. "You show up unannounced at my house in the middle of the night after ten years of radio silence. I didn't even know if you were alive. So why are you here now? The only reason I can think is that something is really, really wrong."

"I just…I didn't want to be alone anymore."

"You said that. I know that."

Elara slowly sits back down on the edge of the couch. Ione stares at a stain on her shoe.

"I'm tired. I'm scared. I wish I could go back in time," Elara says.

There's a ringing in Ione's ears, then, an echo from a time long past—"I volunteer"—and the anger is creeping up on her again.

She wants Elara to go away. She never wants Elara to leave again. She looks back into the kitchen where Theoden is still making tea, clattering pans loud enough in what she assumes is an attempt to give them privacy. It's sweet. He's sweet. Ione scowls at the floor.

"We have a guest room," Ione says. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

Elara looks, for a moment, like she's going to protest. But she sags against the couch cushions and says, "Thank you. I…missed you."

Ione regards Elara for a moment, trying to decide if she missed her too. They weren't exactly on good terms the last time they saw each other. Or, really, for most of their lives. Ione remembers many long arguments over nothing, where all they did was hurl insults at each other as their parents reminded them to keep it down, please. She remembers when she looked at Elara and felt nothing but hatred and jealousy, and knew that Elara felt the same when she looked at her. She remembers "I love you." and "That's good to know."

(She remembers "Guess the world is only waiting for me." and "I volunteer!".)

Maybe Elara is right. Maybe everything would be better if they could go back in time.

…

When Elara was young, she used to sit on the back porch with her father and her sister, watching the sunset. Her father always looked exhausted from long days of work and unrealized dreams, and he would shake his head and say, "Don't worry, girls. The world is still waiting for you. It's passed me by, but it's still waiting for you. I can't wait for you two to step into the spotlight."

Elara and Ione would hug his arms and giggle, because they didn't get it. They were kids, and they didn't understand what it felt like when the world gives up on you.

"One day, you two are going to make us so proud," he would say, ruffling their identical curls. "You're going to live the lives we never could."

The world came back for their father. He took a chance, grabbed at his dreams, and the world gave him what he wanted. Instead of telling Elara and Ione that they were going to live the life he couldn't, he told them that they were going to be like him. Successful. Financially secure. Happy.

Happy always felt like an afterthought, but Elara knew her father was content with his life. He came home from the shop every day more exhausted than the last, but he was still happy. Elara wanted to be just like him. Elara wanted to be better than him.

Elara was glad her father was happy running an ice cream shop, but she wanted more. The world was waiting for her, and one day, she would step into the spotlight, and she was going to do something no one would ever forget.

"Guess the world is only waiting for me."

Anger. Boiling rage. Fresh, young Victors sitting on the stage. Jealousy, white hot. The world is waiting. The spotlight is blinding.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Well, the world will certainly remember her for this.

…

When Ione wakes up, Theoden has already gotten up for his early morning run. Still, she brushes a hand down his empty side of the bed, cold. She checks the clock. Provided he kept to his schedule, Theoden has been gone for over two hours.

For a few moments, Ione is content to lie in bed and stare at nothing. The sun casts peeking through the curtains casts a beautiful glow on the room. Ione wishes she could stay in bed all day and ignore her problems.

But she can't. She should find Elara and see how she's doing.

It's odd, having Elara in her home. This house she and Theoden own, this life she and Theoden have, has never included Elara. It used to feel weird, but that time has long since passed. As Ione gets ready for the day, she wonders at exactly what point did Elara's absence start to feel natural? At what point did Ione simply move on with her life?

Moving on from Elara hurt at first, but Ione was tired of waiting. If Elara wanted to talk, then she would have to come to Ione. Which is…exactly what ended up happening.

Ione wanders down the hallway, thinking about this life that was never supposed to include Elara. It should have included her—even when she and Elara were at their worst, even when she couldn't even think of her sister without getting mad, Ione always believed they would work it out. She always believed that eventually, they could fix things between them.

There's a photo from Ione and Theoden's wedding on the wall. The two of them are standing in front of her father's ice cream store, where they held a reception. A few of Theoden's friends are in the background, dressed nicely. Ione searches the photo as if she might find Elara hiding behind someone, when she knows she drew up an invitation for her sister that never got delivered. She had even gone so far to track down the other Victors and ask if they knew where she was.

It felt wrong to not have Elara there for such a big step in Ione's life. She had always thought that Elara would be there. That despite everything that happened between them, they would still be there for each other.

She doesn't find Elara anywhere in the photo. She doesn't know why she thought she might.

Ione walks away from the picture, thinking of the blissful grins on her and Theoden's faces. They made a pretty couple. At least, that's what everyone always said.

Elara is in the living room, in the same spot she was the night before. The only difference is that she now actually has a cup of tea.

"Hi," Ione says as she enters, standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Fine," Elara answers, staring into her mug.

Ione turns toward the mirror in the hallway, checking to make sure her hair looks acceptable. "Okay, well, I've got to get to work. I'll see you tonight."

"Where do you work?" Elara asks before Ione can even walk away from the mirror.

"Oh, in research. We're trying to genetically engineer better meat," Ione says absently, messing with a loose curl that won't cooperate.

Suddenly Elara is standing beside her, two clones staring into the same mirror. But they're not clones—Ione could tell them apart in her sleep. There's a faint scar on Elara's neck, weathered with age, and Ione may not know the details but she knows where it came from. Elara's hair is shorter too, and she looks…older.

"Wow," Ione says. "When did we grow up?"

Elara bites her lip and doesn't say anything.

She simply looks like she has been through more. (Because she has.)

"You know when I grew up," Elara says.

"Not like that," Ione says. "When did we…become adults, you know?"

"I suppose." Elara's face scrunches up a bit as she examines the two of them. "The world isn't waiting for us anymore."

"Was it ever?" Ione asks, attempting to add some levity to the conversation. It doesn't land, because the tension between the two of them is still far to thick. "I missed you too, you know. You've missed out on a lot."

"I'll say," Elara says. "The husband? Really?"

"Theoden's…sweet. He loves me, and I…love him."

"You really went for it, huh?" Elara says. "The house. The job. The husband."

"Well, I stepped into the spotlight," Ione says. "What about you? What have you spent the past ten years doing?"

Elara shrugs. "You should probably get going. You don't want to be late for work."

Ione looks at Elara's face in the mirror. There's something else in Elara's eyes. Something she sees that she isn't sharing.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ione asks.

"Like what?"

"Like you're…looking at someone else."

Elara turns to look at Ione, really look at her, and says, "Didn't you watch my Games?"

Ione looks down for a moment. In truth, she couldn't. She was angry with Elara, terrified for Elara, and couldn't bear the thought of watching her sister die. So she just…didn't. She got regular updates on Elara's status from her parents and her friends, and she promised herself that if/when Elara died, she would watch it happen. She would be there in some way.

There was also an element of…bitterness. Vindication. She didn't want to watch Elara suffer when it was all her fault, anyway. There was some tiny part of Ione that she wished didn't exist that wanted Elara to really feel the pain of her impulsiveness.

She did feel that pain. Ione knows that, even if she doesn't know the details.

"Not in a very long time," Ione says in lieu of admitting her fault.

"You look like her," Elara says quietly.

"Who?"

"You're sweet. You'd better be careful out there—I'm down to help."

"Elara! That was amazing—you're gonna be a legend forever!"

"There can only be one winner, and I can't let it be anyone but me."

Elara closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Her name was Zophia—"

…

—and she had Ione's face. That was all Elara could think as she watched the girl from One from across the gymnasium. She had her sister's face. But she didn't look like Elara—only Ione.

In all likelihood, there was a small resemblance between the One girl and the Cygnus twins. But Ione's face was on Elara's mind and that was all she saw.

She couldn't kill that girl. She didn't know if she could kill any of them. Like her little district partner, Griffin. He'd already found the two other little kids in the Games, and they had run off somewhere. Elara wasn't paying attention. Elara was focused on the girl with her sister's face.

There was no way she could talk to Zophia. Zophia was a Career, and all Elara would accomplish would be putting a target on her back. Elara wasn't stupid—just impulsive.

She spent the day watching Zophia train. She was incredibly skilled with a knife and a spear, and didn't seem to get along particularly well with the other Careers. Elara couldn't blame her. From her day of observation, she saw nothing but five kids fighting over who had the largest ego. And Zophia, along for the ride.

When she brought it up at dinner, Rhett called her insane. "Careers are backstabbers, traitors, cowards. Don't trust them."

She tried to remember Rhett's Games, which shouldn't have been hard considering he had only won last year. Nothing Career-related came to mind, but she trusted him. He was kind, although she knew he thought she was crazy.

Celinda, on the other hand, was too drunk to form opinions on anything. As such, she knew Rhett was stretched thin. At thirteen and maybe five feet tall, Griffin was a lost cause, but apparently Rhett refused to write him off. Elara didn't hold that against him, because she didn't want to see the kid die either. He was young, and he didn't choose this, not like Elara did.

Her dreams that night were filled with images of Ione. Ione, doing silly things like riding an elephant or planting tomatoes on the moon. Ione, doing horrifying things like telling Elara she hoped she never came home, or making sure of it herself.

Elara woke up with Ione's visage imprinted on the backs of her eyes. She remembered the last she ever saw of her sister—standing with her back turned in the doorway of the goodbye room, saying, "That's good to know." when Elara told her she loved her.

(She didn't say it back. It didn't mean that Ione didn't love her. It just meant that Ione was mad.)

She had every right to be mad—Elara was the one that got them into this situation, and now she had a duty to get them out. She had to go home for her sister, so she could make things right. And, sure, to satisfy the tiny part of her that still yearned to be better than Ione, to prove once and for all who is the superior twin.

The sun was peeking into the room. Elara bet that Ione didn't care about their exam scores anymore.

Elara decided to use that training day to actually train rather than stalking the Careers. She ended up at the bow station, trying to shoot straight. She wasn't bad at it, actually, which was a surprise. Elara had never had a weapon in her hands before today, but she could hit the target. She was still having trouble notching the arrows, but it was something.

"Hey, let me show you something," a voice said from behind her. Elara turned and found herself face-to-face with Zophia Good, in the flesh. "There's a trick to it."

She watched Zophia notch an arrow several times, and then imitated her. Her trick really did help, but Elara wasn't sure she should thank her.

"Why did you show me that?" she asked instead.

Zophia shrugged. "You were struggling. I wanted to help."

"Well, that's…very nice of you."

"I noticed you watching me yesterday," Zophia said without prompting.

Elara flinched and said, "Did you?"

"Yeah. What was that about? Do you find me irresistibly attractive?" Zophia struck a pose, still holding a bow.

Elara laughed. "No, that was…definitely not it."

"I mean, don't think I didn't notice you," Zophia said. "You've got the look. You and I could be sisters."

Yeah. You have no idea. "Cousins, maybe."

Zophia smiled at her, showing off her incredibly white teeth. "You're sweet. You'd better be careful out there—I'm down to help. Mind if I hang with you for the rest of the day? I don't think I can stand to spend another minute around all of those self-righteous assholes over there." She gestured over her shoulder to where the other five Careers were gathered, evidently arguing over something.

Elara should have taken time to consider it. She should have taken Rhett's advice into account. She should have done anything.

Anything but—

"I'd like that."

Zophia extended a hand to shake, and Elara shook.

…

"She was…a friend," Elara says. "Until she wasn't."

She brings a hand up to press against the faint scar along her collarbone.

"You remember that, don't you?" Elara says, meeting Ione's gaze.

Ione looks away. "Of course I do. How could I ever—forget?"

Elara smiles, like she's glad she's in company that understands her. "It meant a lot to me to me to know you were watching. I thought…I thought I'd get home and we'd sort things out. That would be that and everything would work out."

"I really have to get to work," Ione says. She doesn't want to talk about this right now. She doesn't want to talk about any of this, ever.

"Oh. Right. See you later," Elara says, returning to her spot on the couch.

Ione's gaze lingers on her for a moment, and then she steps out the door and banishes it all from her mind.

…

Elara didn't tell Rhett about Zophia, but she got the sense that he knew. Perhaps Griffin told him. She didn't know what to make of her little district partner. He had spent the last three days running around the training center with Freyja from Five and Auben from Twelve, and apparently Auben's older district partner.

Zophia called them less than a threat. Well, her exact words were "Kids that like just exist to pad kill counts." which was callous, to say the least. Elara didn't know what to make of that either.

"I won't kill little kids," Elara had responded. "I have to draw the line somewhere."

Zophia had only looked at her and said, "Morality doesn't win the Games, El."

And Elara knew that she was right, but Elara also knew there were lines she wouldn't cross. There had always been lines she wouldn't cross. She was nothing if not consistent.

Now she watched Griffin anxiously await his score and wondered if she could kill him. He was just a kid. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't volunteer to be here like Elara did.

She couldn't kill him. She would stick to her guns and she wouldn't kill Griffin, or any of his little allies. That was a line she was drawing in the sand and she would not cross it. It disgusted her that she even considered it. She knew what she believed, and she knew what she stood for, and she would not back down. Even if Zophia was right—that angels don't last in the arena. But it would be fine, because Elara knew who she was and knew what she would do. She would be fine.

Elara got a five. Griffin got a three. Rhett was happy for both of them, and Celinda got up to get another drink.

"What's her deal, anyway?" Griffin asked over the sound of bottles clinking in the kitchen.

Rhett was watching Celinda's back with a sad look in his eyes. "She saw some stuff in the Games and did some stuff in the Games that she can't overcome." He turned to address them, swirling the drink in his hand. "We all saw and did stuff that never leaves us, but Celinda…just copes differently."

"She's okay, though, right?" Griffin asked.

Elara eyed him, remembering that Celinda was only his age when she won.

"She's…still recovering," Rhett said, as if he didn't have any other answer. "She'll be okay one day." He looked them up and down and opened his mouth like he was going to elaborate, but he just took a drink and turned to stare out the window. "You too should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

Elara nodded but stayed on the couch as the rest of them got ready for bed. Celinda stumbled into the elevator shortly after Rhett went to his room, and Elara got the impression she didn't want him to know she left.

She was tired but she didn't want to sleep. As in, she couldn't sleep. Sleeping meant inviting images of Ione back into her mind.

Instead, she turned on the tv and started looking for something to watch. The Capitol produced thousands of mindless movies every year. There had to be something she could watch that would distract her.

Before she could find anything, the elevator opened again. She didn't turn her head at first, figuring that Celinda had chickened out and came back without doing anything.

But it wasn't Celinda. "Elara, hey," Zophia said. "Any chance you'd like to hang out? I think I'm going to lose it if I have to spend five more minutes with Axton tonight."

Elara stood and smiled at Zophia. "I don't have any plans."

Zophia mirrored her grin and took a seat on the couch. She recommended watching a romance movie, because they weren't very good but they were fun.

They had an easy rapport. Zophia liked to comment on the holes in the movie, or the bad acting, and Elara let her. It was endearing, really.

Elara watched Zophia laugh about a cheesy line and remembered she received a ten. It made her glad to have Zophia on her side—with a Career fighting with her, she might actually stand a chance. It was a comforting thought.

(But then came the occasional reminder that Zophia was a Career at heart. She may have forsaken the traditional alliance, but she was still trained to kill. She would still kill Griffin if given the chance. That thought was much less comforting.)

When the movie ended, Zophia turned to Elara and said, "You know, I always planned to not join the Careers. It'd been my strategy since I'd seen how well it worked out for Pyrite Thames. I was kinda thinking I'd go it solo, but I'm glad I'm with you."

"I'm glad I'm with you too," Elara said.

When Zophia smiled, she didn't look anything like Ione. She didn't act like Ione, or think like Ione, or talk like Ione. But Elara couldn't get the thought out of her head.

Zophia raised a hand for a high five. "We're gonna kill together, you know that?"

(Elara knew that she didn't mean it like that. She didn't mean that the two of them would kill people together, just that they would work well together.)

(Or maybe she did. She was a Career, after all.)

…

Dinner that night is an awkward affair, to say the least. Theoden continually attempts to strike up conversation, which Elara and Ione both brush off. Elara keeps giving Ione weird looks from across the table, and Ione keeps giving her weird looks in return.

After enough attempts, Theoden falls silent. Elara and Ione continue to stare each other down from across the table, and Ione is oddly reminded of when they were children. They were close when they were little, before either of them started making lots of friends. They used to play all of the time, and all of their games ended with a winner and a loser. It were, perhaps, an odd precursor to their rivalry as they got older.

"Oh! I know," Theoden says, startling Ione out of her thoughts. "We have some news to share."

Elara looks mildly interested when she says, "What's that?"

"Do you wanna tell her, honey?" Theoden says, seeming to not notice Ione's wooden smile.

"We're trying to have a baby," Ione says.

"Really?" Elara says, sounding surprised and not in a good way. "I thought you didn't want kids."

"I changed my mind," Ione says, because she did. She wants kids. Theoden wants kids, and they're happy together. Everything is great and they're going to have a baby one day. "Isn't that exciting? One day, you might get to be an aunt."

"Nothing's concrete yet, of course," Theoden says. "No babies yet, but…we're trying."

He grabs Ione's free hand and squeezes, grinning at her. Ione manages a smile back.

"That's great," Elara says neutrally. "I'm happy for you." She grabs her glass and takes a long drink.

"Yes, we're very excited," Ione says. "It's a big step."

"I think I'm going to head to bed," Elara says. "You two can…go make babies in peace of whatever."

Theoden waggles his eyebrows at Ione, but she ignores him. "Let us know if you need anything," Ione says. "You came here with…barely anything."

Elara stops in the doorway and says without turning around, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Ione suddenly feels like she should tell her she loves her. Elara walks away before she can get the chance.

…

Zophia looked absolutely ethereal in her interview outfit. They made an interesting pair, standing side by side, Zophia dressed in all white and Elara in all gold. Elara's stylist had dressed her in what could only be described as a golden disco ball turned into a dress, because apparently it "brought out the color of her eyes". Elara was pretty sure her eyes were just as brown as ever, but maybe she didn't know fashion.

They could hear the sounds of the audience filling into the theater. The screens on the wall that Elara assumed would show the interviews now only showed shots of the crowd. She watched the eccentrically dressed Capitolites take their seats for a few moments before she said, "The world is really waiting for me now."

"Huh?" Zophia said.

"Oh," Elara said. "It's just something my dad used to say to me and my…and my sister. That the world is waiting for us."

"He's right," Zophia said. "The world is waiting for us! We're gonna do great! You look great, by the way. Very bright."

Elara smiled. "Thanks. You look great too."

They stood side by side for another few minutes, simply enjoying each other's company, until an attendant told them to get to their places.

Zophia was the first on stage. The stage lights made her glow even more normal.

"Well, aren't you just the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Alistair McKinley said as the crowd quietened down. "Such a different look than we usually see from District One."

"Thank you," Zophia said, giving the audience a lopsided grin. "I like to think I'm pretty unique."

"Now, I've heard tell that you aren't with the normal alliance a girl from One would go for," Alistair said. "Care to tell us why?"

"Well, I met someone I trust a whole hell of a lot more," Zophia said. "Her name's Elara. You'll know her when you see her—in that outfit, you couldn't miss her!"

The audience laughed, and Elara smiled when the camera panned over to her.

They changed topics, running out the clock talking about Zophia's ten and her promises to come home a Victor.

Zophia left to raucous cheers. Elara caught her eye and smiled again. She could do that, couldn't she? Be that confident? She could stand up in front of the whole nation and convince them that she knew what she was doing. If Zophia could do it, then she could too.

Zophia's district partner Axton had a similar angle; self-assured, but far more blood thirsty than Zophia ever was. He made a promise to hunt his "traitorous little district partner", which didn't seem to bother Zophia but bothered Elara a lot. There was a voice in the back of her head that sounded distinctly like Rhett that said associating with Careers does nothing but put a target on your back.

The other Careers all had similar personas. All of them insisted they will be the winner, and at least three of them claimed to be the leader of the Career pack. If there was one thing that made Elara feel a little bit better, it was the knowledge that the Careers were an absolute disaster this year. That didn't stop them from being a threat, but she felt less certain that Axton is going to be able to hunt them down.

Freyja from Five was playing the precocious kid angle. The boy from Seven was a noble killer. The girl from Eight couldn't stop crying. All too soon, it was Elara's turn.

The world is waiting for you. Time to step into the spotlight.

Elara stepped out in the blinding light and thunderous applause, and the whole world fell away.

"Hello, hello, Elara!" Alistair said. "You're looking very bright tonight."

Elara swallowed and smiled. "Thank you."

"Now, Elara," Alistair said. "I think everyone in the nation has been asking only one question: why did Elara Cygnus volunteer?"

Elara swallowed again. There was no good answer to the question. She couldn't tell the truth—she and Rhett had agreed that was going to be a bad look. It wasn't the type of person she wanted Panem to see her as. She couldn't claim to know the girl who got Reaped, or to have pitied her or something, because she volunteered before the whole name had even gotten out of the escort's mouth.

"I…wanted to prove myself," Elara said. "I wanted to be…the best."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Well, a noble cause indeed," Alistair said.

"It's not," Elara replied shortly. Volunteering to kill other kids wasn't noble.

The spotlight was burning hot.

"I'm sorry?"

"It's not noble," Elara said. "I volunteered for a game where I have to kill other people or be killed. That's not noble."

"Do you regret volunteering, then?"

Yes. "No," Elara said. "I just want everyone to know what I'm here to do."

The audience applauded loudly when Elara left, which she figured must be a good thing. She returned to her place and spaced out for the rest of the interviews, barely paying any attention to Griffin or the other four tributes. The audience seemed to love her—that must have meant she came across as confident as Zophia. Right?

She tried to catch Zophia's eye for reassurance, but her ally wasn't looking her way.

The little boy from Twelve left to meager applause and Alistair said goodbye to the audience. The tributes were ushered quickly out the theater and back into the limousines they had come here in. Elara took a seat beside Griffin, who was chatting quietly with the pair from Twelve. Elara watched them for a moment, wondering what would happen come morning.

Eventually she turned away. The pair from Eleven were silent. The windows were tinted black and Elara couldn't see anything but vague silhouettes outside.

Rhett was waiting for them at the Tribute Center, but Celinda was nowhere to be seen. "You two did great," he said as they waited for the elevator.

"Elara! Wait!" Zophia's voice called over her shoulder.

Elara turned and was nearly bowled over by Zophia. She leaned into Elara's ear and said, "Meet me back down in here in an hour."

Before Elara could respond, Zophia was gone, running back to meet the District One crew.

"What did she say to you?" Griffin asked as they piled into the elevator with the group from Six.

"Nothing," Elara lied.

When they got to their floor, Griffin almost immediately disappeared into his bedroom. Their escort left too, ostensibly to go strike up some sponsors.

"You shouldn't trust that girl," Rhett said as he poured himself a drink.

"I don't have to trust her to be her ally," Elara said, as if she didn't trust Zophia already.

"You're going to have to go to sleep while she's awake," Rhett said. "That's a lot of faith to put in a Career."

"Zophia is different," Elara said. "I'm a pretty good judge of character. I think."

Rhett shrugged and took a drink. "Whatever. I'm just trying to stop you from getting burned."

"I'm going to be fine," Elara said, although she didn't quite believe it. "But…thank you, for the concern."

"Sure. I'm just doing my job," Rhett said. "But I like you, Elara. I just think…" He took another drink. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. I just want to help you."

Elara nodded. She understood. This was only Rhett's first year as a mentor, after all, and Celinda had left him high and dry. "Tell you what. I'll go out there, and I'll win, and then you won't ever have to mentor with her again."

Rhett looked annoyed rather reassured. "Don't promises you can't keep, Elara." He pushed past her and disappeared into his bedroom.

Elara didn't intend to break that promise. She and Zophia would go out there tomorrow and they would…they would kill together. And Elara was going to come home, and she and Ione would figure things out. They had to. Elara couldn't live like this anymore.

…

(TW: Discussions of infertility)

When Ione wakes up the next morning, there is no sun shining in through the curtains. When she gets up to inspect the weather, she finds it rainy. It's fairly typical for early June, but that doesn't stop it from annoying her. At least she doesn't have to go to work today.

She finds Elara sitting on the front porch, coffee mug in hand.

"Where'd you get that?" she asks.

"Theoden offered it," Elara says. She blows on it a little bit. "He's nice. Very sweet."

"Do you like him?" Ione asks, and she feels like she needs to know.

"He's nice," Elara repeats. "He's just…not what I expected."

"What does that mean?"

"He's not the kind of the person I expected you to marry, is all," Elara says.

"Aren't you cold out here?" Ione asks at the same time as Elara says,

"Are you really going to have a kid?"

The question startles Ione. "What?"

"I always thought you didn't want to have kids," Elara says. "I thought you were afraid they might get Reaped."

"Well, Theoden and I have enough money that our kids would never have to take tesserae," Ione says, as if that is good enough. "They'd be safe. There's a million kids in this District. It wouldn't be them."

"It could be," Elara says, shrugging. "It has to be somebody, you know."

"We don't need to talk about whether my hypothetical kids might get Reaped one day," Ione says. "Maybe you should stop dodging my questions and tell me where you've been for the past ten years."

Elara swallows visibly. "I've been…around."

"That's not answer."

"Why does it matter?" Elara exclaims. "I did my time. I mentored for the standard two years, what does it matter what I've done since then?"

"I don't care about how much you mentored, Elara," Ione says. "I don't know why you would think I would. What I care about is what your life has been like. Like, what do you do? Where do you live? Are you seeing anyone?"

"I don't have a job, Ione," Elara says. "I don't need one."

"Alright, then where do you live?"

"…out on the edge of the District. Small town. Not many prying eyes," Elara says.

"And…?"

"I'm not seeing anyone."

"See, was that so hard?" Ione says. "Do you ever visit anyone? Like the other Victors?"

"No," Elara says. "And I after I skipped Celinda's funeral…I don't think Rhett ever wants to see me again."

The thought seems to make her sad. Ione puts a hand on her shoulder and says, "Hey, I'm sure he can forgive you."

She's met Rhett Riley once or twice. He seemed nice, and more importantly, endlessly forgiving.

Elara just shrugs and takes a sip of coffee. "Okay, I told you all of my secrets. Now you have to share one too."

It's supposed to be funny, Ione thinks. She's supposed to tell her something non-serious. She's supposed to make a joke.

"I'm infertile," Ione says instead.

"What?" Elara says, choking on her coffee. "You're what?"

"I'm infertile," Ione repeats. "I went to the doctor, a while ago. Found out the chance I could actually get pregnant is miniscule. Basically such a low percentage I shouldn't even entertain the idea."

"Does Theoden know?" Elara asks in a small voice.

"Of course he doesn't know!" Ione exclaims. "He just told you last night that we're trying to have a baby!"

"You should tell him," Elara says. "You shouldn't keep something like this from him—"

"That's rich coming from you!" Ione says. "You've done nothing but keep secrets since you showed up here!"

"I just told you everything—"

"Oh, that was not everything—"

Elara stands up, sloshing a bit of coffee out of her mug, and opens the front door. "We're not kids anymore, Ione. I don't want to fight with you. Grow up and tell your husband that you can't have children."

She slams the door, leaving Ione alone on the porch in the rain. It really is cold out here.

…

Zophia was waiting for her on the steps of the Tribute Center. She had changed and showered, and no longer looked so ethereal.

There was no one around, but Elara knew they were being watched. Whether it be through cameras or actual guards, Elara knew they wouldn't let tributes come out here if they didn't have way to keep an eye on them.

Elara took a seat beside Zophia and said, "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I don't know," Zophia said. "Just wanted to talk."

A cool breeze blew through the street. "You haven't told me much about your home," Elara said, figuring that it should be a relatively safe topic.

Zophia bit her lip. "I have a twin brother."

"I have a twin sister," Elara said, bumping her shoulder against Zophia's. "We're identical. You…look a lot like her."

"But not you?" Zophia joked.

"Guess not," Elara said.

"Wow, ouch," Zophia said. "My brother and I are, obviously, not identical. We don't get along very well."

"Yeah, me too," Elara said. "That's…actually kind of why I volunteered."

"Oh?" Zophia said. "I wasn't sure I was buying the whole "wanted to prove myself" schtick."

"Hey! The audience bought it," Elara said. "But…no, that's not why I volunteered. It's just…my sister and I are so competitive. And she was insulting me because our exam scores were supposed to be released that day, and last year she'd done better than me. And I saw the Victors up there and thought "hey, there's nothing better than a Victor" and I just…volunteered."

Zophia was silent for a moment. "Wow," she said eventually. "It's…actually kind of similar to me and my brother. We've been training since we were eight. Our parents always pitted us against each other. Always had to be the best, the best, the best. And when I was chosen to volunteer and he wasn't…that was kind of it for us. I had finally proven that I was better. There wasn't any coming back from that."

"What would you have done if he was chosen to volunteer alongside you?"

Zophia shrugged. "Probably wouldn't happen. The Academy avoids those kinds of dilemmas. But if it had…I would've killed him. No questions asked."

Elara was, once again, reminded of the difference between her and her ally. She could never kill Ione. Killing Ione would be like killing herself. She couldn't do that.

And it disgusted her that Zophia could.

"You don't really mean that, do you?" Elara asked, giving Zophia an out.

"No, I do," Zophia said. "I would kill him if it came down to it. I think most people would."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's me or him, right? Either he dies or I die, and I'm not going to be the one who dies," Zophia said.

They had a good thing going here. Elara didn't want to ruin it over a hypothetical. But, fuck, how could Zophia be so callous?

(I've been training since I was eight years old)

That's why. Zophia had never been taught any differently.

"I couldn't," Elara said. "I couldn't kill my sister. We may not get along but…we love each other."

(I love you—That's good to know)

Elara stood. "I think I'm going to head upstairs. Big…day tomorrow."

Zophia followed suit. "Yeah. The world is waiting for us, right?"

"Right." Elara patted Zophia on the shoulder and walked back into the Tribute Center. The world was waiting for them. It was time to step into the spotlight.

…

Dinner was silent, and Elara left quickly. Theoden keeps asking what happened, and Ione keeps brushing him off. Elara's words keep playing over and over in her head.

Grow up and tell your husband that you can't have children.

She can't do that. If she tells Theoden, he'll probably leave, and she doesn't want that, right? She doesn't want that. But she can't let him live a lie forever.

Ione sits on the edge of the bed dejectedly, listening to the sound of Theoden puttering around in the bathroom. She should tell him. She should tell him.

Not for the first time, Ione wishes she could go back in time. Things were so much simpler when she was a teenager. All there was to life was good grades, go out with friends, argue with Elara. Everything was okay, even if it didn't feel like it. She didn't have to worry about explaining to her husband that she's known she physically can't have kids and doesn't even want them for eight months now. She didn't have to worry about how much of a relief it was to know she couldn't get pregnant. She didn't have to worry about patching up her broken relationship with her sister.

Ione lays back against the bed and stares at the ceiling. Eventually, Theoden comes in and says, "Honey, are you going to get ready for bed?"

"Give me a minute," Ione says.

She feels Theoden sit down rather than hears him. "Is everything okay?" he asks in the most damned sincere voice ever. "I know that Elara being here has been hard on you."

"It's…not that," Ione says, and she's going to tell him. She's going to tell him. "It's…I'm just stressed about work, is all. Elara being here is just exacerbating the problem."

So, she's a fucking coward. What else is new?

After a while, Ione convinces herself to get up and get ready for bed. She moves slowly, less out of exhaustion and more out of dejection. By the time she's done, Theoden has turned out the light and gone to sleep. She stands in the doorway to the bathroom, bathing the room in yellow light, and simply observes him.

She doesn't love him. She doesn't think she ever loved him. At least…not like that. She cares about him, sure, and values him. But she doesn't love him.

He loves her. She knows that. He says it all the time. He shows it, too. She doesn't deserve him. And he doesn't deserve to be with someone who doesn't love him.

Ione climbs into bed and stares at the ceiling some more. She thinks about her father, and how he always felt the world had been passed him by. She thinks about how rejuvenated he was when he opened the ice cream shop. She thinks about how she wishes she could find passion for something like that.

It's certainly not how she expected her life to turn out. But…it's never too late to change. Ione just has to gather the courage to do it.

…

The outfit Elara was given was a white shirt, overalls, heavy-duty boots, and a helmet with a head lamp. She looked incredibly silly, but it gave her some insight into where she was going. The head lamp told her it would dark. The boots told her rocky terrain. The helmet told her falling debris. All signs pointed to a mine. There were certainly worse arenas. Deserts or tundra or that one time the arena was the ocean. Things could have been worse.

Still, Elara struggled to eat much breakfast. She knew she should, but anxiety was buzzing under her skin and making stomach roll. Her stylist was quiet as she tried to make herself eat something.

All too soon, a tinny voice echoed out from the ceiling to tell Elara to step into the tube. She took one last look at her stylist and turned away to face the wall.

Elara sucked in a deep breath and adjusted the strap on her helmet as the tube sealed and began to rise. She turned the headlamp on as she was plunged into darkness.

The plate clicked into place, and Elara began to look around. She was standing between the girl from Nine and the boy from Three in a large cavern. It wasn't exactly a mine, but it was close enough. The Cornucopia was made of the same rock the cavern was, giving it the look of a freestanding cave rather than a man-made structure. There were dozens of tunnels shooting off of the cavern, dimly lit by hanging lanterns, traveling up at least three winding layers of rock. Elara found Zophia, luckily only a few plates away. They had previously discussed a strategy for the bloodbath, agreeing that they needed to get the hell out of dodge as fast as they could. Zophia was too much of a target for the Careers to hang around.

But there was a bow not too far away, thrown lazily on the ground beside a spear and a backpack. Elara was certain that it was put there just for them. It wasn't that far in. She could get it.

She would just have to keep an eye on Zophia so she wouldn't lose her. They needed weapons and they needed supplies. They would be nothing without those.

The gong rang. Elara launched herself in the direction of the bow, catching sight of Zophia disappearing into one of the tunnels out of the corner of her eye. She snatched up the backpack, swinging it over her shoulder all in one motion as she juggled the bow, quiver, and spear. Someone was screaming. Elara ignored everything, vision tunneling on the passageway Zophia had gone down.

Someone crashed into her, knocking her onto her ass. She scraped her hands on the hard cave floor but was back on her feet before she could even see who hit her. There was more screaming.

Elara made it to the tunnel. There was a rickety minecart track on the ground that made it hard to find good footing for running, but Elara paid it no mind. She had to get to Zophia and show her the spoils of her risk-taking.

There was still screaming, echoing down the tunnels, bouncing off the rock. If Elara's hands weren't full, she would have clamped them over her ears.

The mineshaft came out to another large cavern. There was an incline off to one side, leading up to another set of tunnel entrances. On the far wall, high above the ground, there was a mineshaft blocked off by a piece of wood. The wood was held in place by a rope attached to the ceiling, and it looked like it was straining to stay that way. Elara took a few steps closer, taking a cursory glance over her shoulder to ensure she wasn't followed. Before she could get close enough to examine it, someone harshly whispered her name.

"Elara! Elara, over here." It was, of course, Zophia, crouched behind the incline where there was yet another tunnel entrance. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm alright," Elara said. "Scraped my hands is all."

"Let me take a look," Zophia said.

Elara put down the bow and spear and showed Zophia the palms of her hands.

"It doesn't look too bad to me," Zophia said. "If we can find running water we should wash them out, but other than that I think you'll be okay." She looked to the spear. "Did you really run in there to get weapons?"

"Yeah," Elara said. "We needed them."

Zophia smiled. "Hell yeah we do."

"Come on," Elara said. "We need to put more distance between us and the Cornucopia."

They decided to go up the incline and try one of the tunnels up there. As they were walking through the dimly lit mineshaft, cannons started to ring out. They stopped and counted on their fingers.

"I counted nine," Elara said.

"Yeah," Zophia said. "How do you think the anthem is going to work in here?"

"I dunno," Elara said. "Guess we'll have to live long enough to find out, right?"

Zophia smiled and laughed. She looked confident with the spear in her hand. She was right; they did make a good team.

They walked until they came out to another cavern. This one was significantly smaller than the last two had been, with less exits to escape from.

"Wait—did you see that?" Zophia whispered, putting out a hand to stop Elara from moving.

"See what?" Elara whispered back.

"Light—there was a light down that tunnel there." Zophia pointed it out. "I think it's another tribute."

They crouched behind a rock, waiting to see if there would be another flash of light. Sure enough, two shafts of light came wobbling down the tunnel. Elara could see a pair of silhouettes illuminated by the dim lanterns at the mineshaft's entrance. As soon as the shapes became distinct enough, Zophia was on her feet and lobbing her spear in their direction.

There was a scream and a thud, and Elara could barely make out the terrified face of the boy from Nine frozen in fear. She couldn't see the boy's companion, but she had him caught in her headlamp like a deer caught in headlights.

Elara didn't think. She notched an arrow and fired straight at the Nine boy's heart.

It missed, which was surprising, but buried itself in the boy's shoulder. He screamed, reaching up a hand to try to take it out, and it seemed to shock him out of being frozen. He turned and tried to run, and Elara notched another arrow and shot him in the back.

He hit the ground. A cannon fired.

A few moments later, the other tribute's pained groaning ceased and another cannon fired.

Zophia went to retrieve her spear, and brought Elara her blood covered arrows too. "See that?" she said, grinning from ear-to-ear. "We kill together!"

She raised a hand for a high-five.

Elara didn't move. Her gaze was locked on the boy from Nine's body.

"El? Hey, Elara?" Zophia waved her hand in front of Elara's eyes. "Hey, it's okay. You just did what you had to do, huh?"

Elara nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn't want to look at the boy's body anymore.

"Besides, that guy probably would have killed you if you let him," Zophia said. "It's either you or him, right?"

"Right," Elara said distantly.

Zophia patted her on the shoulder. "You're okay. We're okay." She presented Elara with the blood-tipped arrows. "Here. Put these back in your quiver."

Elara did so, blinking several times to try and bring herself back to the present. "I'm sorry about that," she said, taking the arrows. She inspected them for a few moments, noting the blood dripping off the points.

"You're okay," Zophia said again. "Nice shots, by the way. I would have never guessed you just started firing a bow this week."

"Thank you," Elara said, as if Zophia was complimenting her on her clothes or her penmanship or her hair style and not her ability to shoot and kill people.

"We should get a move on, find somewhere lighter to set up camp for the night," Zophia said. "Then we need to go through our backpacks."

"That's a good idea," Elara said. "Wait, backpacks?"

"Yeah," Zophia said, brandishing an orange backpack. "Got this one off the boy from Three."

"Oh," Elara said. "Nice."

They went off through a different tunnel, skirting around the pair of corpses left behind. Elara was glad once they were out of her field of vision. The day was really starting to weigh on her, and she hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the night before. She guessed she would get even less tonight.

She didn't even know his name. She knew he was from Nine, and he was probably about her age. Was his family at home, cursing her name? Did he have family at all? Elara wasn't sure she wanted to know. She'd taken the boy's life. Maybe she didn't deserve to know that.

They found a small, well lit cave with multiple exits to set up camp in for the night. It was hard to tell how much time had passed since the bloodbath, but both of them were tired enough they figured it was time for bed. First, they went through their supplies. In the green backpack Elara had snatched from the Cornucopia, they found two empty water bottles, several packets of food, a flashlight, a rolled up blanket, and a hatchet. The orange backpack Zophia had taken from the boy from Three contained two filled bottles of water, more packets of food, a small knife, a roll of bandages, another blanket, and a length of rope. They split the supplies between each other, Elara taking the knife and Zophia taking the hatchet. They agreed that there must be a source of fresh water in the arena somewhere, as the two water bottles looked like they had been manually filled up.

Elara volunteered to take first watch, offering Zophia both of the blankets. Before Zophia could get comfortable, however, their headlamps started buzzing. They projected the Seal of Panem on the air in front of their faces for a few seconds before switching the face of the girl from Three. Next was the boy from Three, then the boy from Five and both from Six. Both from Eight and Nine. And both from Eleven.

"No Careers down," Zophia said. "That's not great."

"It'll be okay," Elara said. "You should get some sleep."

Zophia nodded and rolled over. Without the moon, it was hard to tell how much time was passing, but Elara didn't think she'd be able to sleep if she tried. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the face of the boy from Nine frozen in fear.

Did this make her a bad person? She didn't want to kill that boy. It was kill or be killed. In a fight to the death. That she volunteered for.

Elara put her head in her hands for a few moments, knowing she shouldn't let her guard down. The Careers were probably already on the prowl, and she needed to stay alert in case someone showed up. She figured they were pretty safe tucked in their little corner, but she could never be too careful.

Zophia made a small noise in her sleep, and Elara leaned back against the wall, resigned to a long, lonely night.

…

"Hey, Elara, are you alright?" Ione says, peering into the darkened guest room. "I heard a thunk and wanted to…" She realizes that Elara is still asleep, moving around in bed like she can't get comfortable. "Elara?"

She takes a few steps into the room, reaching to flip on the lamp. She places a hand on Elara's shoulder and gently shakes, trying to rouse her.

"What? Ione?" Elara slurs as she comes to. "What are you doing in here?"

"I heard a thunk. I wanted to make sure you were okay." Ione looks around, trying to figure out what might have caused the noise she heard. She notices the candle that is usually on the nightstand on the floor beside the bed. "It must've been this. You probably knocked it off the nightstand while you were…whatever."

Elara's face is off color. She's breathing a little bit hard.

"Are you okay?" Ione says. "Did you…did you have a nightmare?"

"I'm fine," Elara says. "You can go back to bed."

"Will you be okay if I leave?"

"I'm fine," Elara repeats. "Seriously, Ione, I'm alright. It's no big deal."

"Do you get nightmares often?"

"This time of year? Yeah, I guess," Elara says. "They just…start playing reruns, you know, around this time of year."

"I get it," Ione says, as if she has seen Elara's Games and knows what she's talking about. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Okay," Ione says. "Do you still want me to leave?"

Elara looks around for a moment. "Can you stay? Just for a little while."

"Of course," Ione says. She takes a seat on the end of Elara's bed. "I've been thinking about getting a dog."

"What kind?" Elara says, seeming happy to have the distraction.

"I don't know," Ione says. "I don't really want a big dog. Something smaller, like a dachshund, maybe."

"Those are the long dogs, right?"

"Yeah. They're pretty cute," Ione says. "Do you have any pets?"

Elara just shakes her head. The conversation lapses after that, and Ione is about to get up and leave when Elara suddenly says, "His name was Wells Hargreaves."

"What?"

"Wells Hargreaves. He was sixteen. He was from District Nine. He got a four in training." Elara sighed. "That's all I know about him. I don't know what his favorite color was, or whether he liked summer or winter better, or whether he wanted a dog. I just know that I killed him."

Ione's face is off color now too, she imagines, as she watches Elara pick at a loose thread on the comforter.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," Elara says. "You saw it all. You know I killed the boy from Nine."

"I didn't," Ione says quietly.

"What?"

"I didn't…see you kill the boy from Nine."

"What do you mean?"

She can't tell her. She can't tell her she didn't watch any of it. Elara will hate her forever. "I don't remember that," Ione says. "I guess I…must've missed that."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I…saw everything else though," Ione lies, because if she doesn't, Elara will hate her. She got her sister back. She's not letting her go that easily. "Like I said, I haven't watched your Games…since they first aired. And I wasn't there like you were. I didn't actually experience any of it."

"I guess you weren't," Elara says, still picking at the sheets. "You can go back to bed now, if you want."

"I don't think I want to," Ione says. "Do you want…watch a movie or something?"

"Won't we wake up Theoden?"

"That man sleeps like a rock. We'll be fine," Ione says, and she desperately wants this. Wants to feel normal for a little while, like when they were little kids and they would stay up late talking to each other. There used to be so much to talk about. Now everything is tainted by the pain and the bitterness of the Games and the sting of disappointing adulthood.

They go downstairs and settle on the couch. Elara wraps herself in a throw blanket, and Ione wishes she had a camera.

"What do you want to watch?" Ione asks.

"No rom-coms," Elara says.

"Okay," Ione says. "How about an action movie?"

"…sure." Elara's face still looks weird, but maybe it's just the light from the tv screen.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ione asks. "Maybe I could make you some tea?"

"Coffee?"

"It's four in the morning," Ione says. Elara gives her a pleading look. "Alright, coffee. You're lucky I love you."

It just slips out. It feels so easy to just pretend that everything is alright between them, that there isn't a sheet of glass separating the two of them, that Ione just says it. She loves her sister. She hasn't said it since who-knows-how-long, but she loves her sister.

For a few moments, Ione thinks Elara is going to say, "That's good to know." and if she did, Ione would deserve it.

But she doesn't say anything.

Ione rushes out of the living room to make the coffee before she has to confront any of that.

…

Zophia was mad that Elara never woke her up, ranting that they both needed to be on high alert. Elara simply told her that she didn't think it was worth it; she couldn't sleep no matter how much she wanted to. Zophia only dropped the subject after Elara promised to sleep first that night.

They ended up going back the way they came, hoping to find whatever water course the boys from Three and Nine must have discovered. Elara was exhausted, but it was fine. She had pulled all-nighters for school before. It wasn't a big deal.

Coming back to the cavern where she had killed the boy from Nine only exacerbated her problems. The bodies were gone, of course, but the brownish stains on the rock were not.

Really, the stains didn't look much like blood. If Elara didn't know where they had come from, she wouldn't have thought anything of them.

"Yo, Elara, let's keep moving," Zophia said, shaking her out of her trance.

"Sorry," Elara said. "Just…got distracted."

"Yeah, it's because you haven't sleep in twenty-four hours," Zophia said. "That'll fuck anybody up."

"I'm fine," Elara said.

Zophia just shrugged in response as if she didn't believe her.

They walked on in silence for a while longer, winding their way through the maze of mineshafts and caverns. The caves were cold. Elara didn't know why she hadn't noticed the day before.

There were footsteps echoing down the tunnel ahead. Elara shot out an arm to grab Zophia's shoulder and force her to the ground. They crouched behind a boulder, and Elara kept Zophia out of sight as she peered over the top.

"What are you doing?" Zophia whispered. "We need to attack?"

Elara responded by turning off their headlamps.

"Elara!" Zophia whispered urgently. "We need to—"

"We need to—to see who it is first," Elara said. "If it's the Careers or…"

"Lucky break," a voice down the tunnel said. "We would've been sittin' ducks without water."

"They found the water source," Elara whispered to Zophia. "We're gonna just let them pass and then we're going to find the water."

"What? Why?"

"Because we need water more than we need to fight them," Elara said. It felt good to have an occasion she could apply real logic to, although she was a little surprised at her own level-headedness.

Zophia made a face. "Fine."

Elara kept peering over the edge of the boulder, waiting for the footsteps and voices to fade or get louder. After a few moments, the pair from Seven rounded the corner, laden down with axes and bottles of water. Elara was glad she had convinced Zophia not to engage.

The pair walked on by, chatting about water sources and the other remaining tributes. Once they were gone, Elara breathed a sigh of the relief. "Come on," she said, dragging Zophia back to her feet. They started down the tunnel the pair from Seven had come out of.

"I don't get you," Zophia said. "We could've killed those guys."

"Or they could've killed us," Elara said. She didn't want to think about either of those eventualities. "Do you hear running water?"

"Must be a waterfall or something," Zophia said.

They rounded a corner. Zophia was sort of right—there was a stream of water coming out of a trough on the wall, traveling down several more troughs before disappearing into the other wall.

"I would…assume it's safe to drink, right?" Elara said.

"Can't imagine it's not," Zophia said. "It doesn't seem the Cornucopia is too much of a source of water."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Elara said. She slung the green backpack off her shoulder and removed the two empty water bottles. She stuck one under the stream. Once it was filled, she handed it to Zophia, who gulped it down.

They both drank several bottles in silence. Once they were both satisfied, they tucked the four filled bottles away and started to put distance between them and the water. Elara figured it was going to be a high traffic area, which could have been useful, if that was the game she wanted to play.

She didn't want to be a hunter. (She didn't want to be Zophia.)

Eventually they found another place to settle for the night. The Anthem was short, offering no new deaths, and Zophia threw the blankets at Elara and told her to go to sleep.

"Seriously, Elara," she said. "Tired tributes are dead tributes."

Elara shrugged. She was exhausted. Maybe the exhaustion would cancel out the…everything else.

As she took off her headlamp, she thought about what Rhett said. That in order to be allies with someone, you had trust them enough to sleep next to them. She looked at Zophia briefly and smiled. She was glad to have someone to trust by her side.

…

The days start to pass. Sometimes, Elara leaves the house to visit an old friend or just go for a walk, but most days, she is in the guest room. For the most part, Ione's life goes on like usual. She wakes up to an empty bed in the morning, goes to work, has stilted conversations with her husband, and goes to bed hours after he does.

It works. It's normal. They've been doing this for three years. The only difference is that sometimes, she sits up with Elara in the middle of the night, when she doesn't want to be alone. Sometimes, she and Elara sit in silence in the living room, instead of her and Theoden. Sometimes, Elara invites her along on her walks.

Like today. Because "the weather is so nice and you don't have to go to work!"

Ione doesn't mind. She…likes spending time with Elara, when they don't talk about anything too heavy. When they can just chat about the weather, or their neighbors, or a million little inane things. When they can pretend they are a normal pair of twin sisters, who get along like normal siblings do.

People look at them when they walk down the street. People have always looked at Ione—ever since Elara won the Hunger Games, that is. Oftentimes, people think she is Elara. (Sometimes, she doesn't correct them.)

This morning, they walk in the opposite direction that Elara usually takes them. Ione doesn't really notice until they're standing in front of a house.

"What's this?" she says.

"You remember my friend, Adora? From school?" Elara says.

"Vaguely."

"Well, this is…her house," Elara says. "And I've got…a surprise, for you, I guess."

"In your friend's house?"

"That's where I kept it, yeah," Elara says. "Come on."

As it turns out, Adora is not the friend Ione was thinking of. Adora was the one with long red hair, not dark skin. Ione wonders which friend she was thinking of. Elara had several, and at the time, they didn't really associate with each other at school.

Adora is nice, though. Ione can see how she and Elara would work well together.

"So, what is this "surprise"?" Ione says.

Elara and Adora look at each other for a second. "I'll go get it," Adora says. She walks off down the hallway, leaving Ione to eye Elara until she comes back.

"You, uh, you remember how you wanted to get a dog?" Elara says.

"Elara."

"I thought you seemed lonely," Elara says. "You don't do anything accept go to work and read the same book every night. I thought…maybe this would help?"

"Elara. Did you get me a dog?"

"A…a dachshund, yeah," Elara says. "That was what you were thinking about, right?"

Ione smiles softly at her. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," Elara says. "Just…thought maybe it would make you happy."

She really does miss her sister. It's a weird feeling, though, because Ione hardly understands what she's missing. She and Elara haven't gotten along since they were twelve years old. That's not really what she's missing thought. She doesn't miss twelve-year-old Elara. She just misses having her sister in her life. Sure, Elara is here now, but she's not really here.

Adora comes back with a furry dachshund in her arms. It barks excitedly, and Ione just looks at her sister. Maybe things really can be okay between them.

…

Day three passed uneventfully. They made another pilgrimage to the water trough, and luckily did not run into any tributes. Elara was relieved to have a day where nothing happened. Just a day to process and work through everything.

Day four, however, brought a slew of cannons. As Elara and Zophia were walking back to the water trough yet again, a cannon rang out, making both of them jump. It was the first cannon since—since day one. A few minutes later, there was another cannon. A third followed in quick succession.

"What do you think just happened?" Elara asked.

"Dunno," Zophia said. "Maybe the Careers split."

"I guess we'll find out tonight," Elara said. After a moment, she added, "Do you really think it was the Careers?"

"Hope so," Zophia said. "Really, though? It certainly could be. Those guys were a powder keg just waiting to explode. It wasn't really a battle of skill—it was just a battle of ego. I'm glad I got out of there, you know?"

Elara nodded. "So there were…eleven cannons on day one, right?"

"Yeah."

"So another three means we're down to ten," Elara said. "That was fast."

Zophia nodded and they walked on in silence.

As it turned out, it was the Careers. The Anthem that night showed them the faces of the boy from Two and both from Four.

"Good riddance," Zophia said. "Fuck those guys."

Elara nodded half-heartedly, not really thinking about the Careers. They were down to ten, and half the Careers were gone already. There weren't many large threats left in the Games, considering that three of them were under fourteen.

For the first time, Elara considered what would happen if it came down to just her and Zophia.

"What if it's just us?" she said suddenly, causing Zophia to jump a little.

"What?"

"What if it comes down to just the two of us?" Elara said.

"Then we'd fight," Zophia said, not looking up from the food packet she was struggling to open. "You probably don't need to worry about it, though."

"Yeah, I guess," Elara said. It didn't assuage her fears.

"You know," Zophia said. "You haven't told me much about your sister."

"What is there to tell?" Elara said. "We don't get along. End of story."

Zophia raised her eyebrows at her.

Elara sighed and shoved her shoulder lightly. "It's just…we're competitive. I…I wanted to be better than her, you know? I want to prove that I'm better. And she wants the same thing. But Victors are legends, right? Everyone remembers Victors for…for forever. That's better than getting good exam scores. Anyone can get good exam scores. Not everyone can win the Hunger Games."

It all just came out. Elara didn't really mean to basically admitting why she volunteered live on national television. But it was the truth. She wanted to be a legend. She wanted to be better than Ione.

But not like this. Not like this.

"That's what I thought, you know? That nothing is better than being a Victor. And I guess it just…spiraled from there," Elara said. "You said that you think your relationship with your brother is irreparable. Sometimes…sometimes I fear that mine is too."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you think," Zophia said. "You love your sister, right?"

(I love you—that's good to know)

"Yeah."

"Then you've already done better than I have," Zophia said. She said it so off-handedly. She didn't even stop messing with the food packet. She admitted she didn't love her twin brother and she didn't even care.

Elara looked her up and down and wondered if maybe she'd be better off on her own. But she trusted Zophia. They worked well together. They weren't going to have to fight each other. Everything would work out.

…

The dog does make things better. She gives Ione and Theoden something to collaborate on. Elara takes her for walks. Theoden bakes her homemade dog treats. Ione lets her sleep on their bed. It's nice, until Theoden makes a comment about how a dog is great practice for having a kid.

Ione names the dog Sally. Elara calls her uncreative. She responds by saying she could name it after an element on the periodic table if she'd prefer. That shuts her up.

For the first time in a while, Ione feels…content. Not quite happy, but she's content. She can live like this, with her sister down the hall and the dog in the bed.

She can spend her life doing this.

…

Elara and Zophia found themselves back in the cavern with the blocked off minecart track on day six. Zophia wanted to scout out the Cornucopia to see if any of the Careers were still there, or if they had scattered. She told Elara to stay behind, use the incline as a vantage point, and be ready to shoot.

Elara, never really the scheming type, let Zophia make the plans. She was trained for this sort of thing. She knew what she was doing.

Zophia was gone for maybe ten minutes. Elara sat, crouched behind the railing on the incline, bow in hand, waiting. The arena was eerily silent. No footsteps, running water, or even sounds of fighting. Elara hummed quietly to herself as she waited, watching the entrance to the tunnel. Occasionally, she glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure no one had snuck up on her.

It didn't take long for Zophia to return. She came limping into the cavern, which was concerning. Before Elara could go to her, a trio of voices began to argue. Zophia immediately ducked down behind a minecart, out of Elara's sight.

"Did you guys see which way Finola went?"

"She went toward the Cornucopia, it's down that way."

"No, it's not, it's through here."

"It's definitely not through there."

"It's up there, guys, we've gone through there before."

Elara peeked over the railing on the incline and saw the three little kids standing in the center of the cavern. They were directly beneath the blocked off mineshaft.

Suddenly, Elara had an idea. A horrifying idea, but an idea nonetheless.

She tried to spot Zophia, hoping she would do something so Elara wouldn't have to. But it appeared that Zophia was still hidden behind the minecart, not doing anything.

She could just let the kids move on. She should just let the kids move on.

But they were talking up going up the incline…what would happen if they saw her? Would they try to kill her? They were little but there were three of them. Elara might not be able to beat all of them. Especially if Zophia got injured…

If Elara was a different person in a different world, she wouldn't have done it. But Elara was Elara and the world was this world, so she shot the rope and killed the kids.

The noise was immense. At least a dozen minecarts careened out of the mineshaft, crushing the three kids in an instant. There were a few brief screams before they were replaced with cannon shots. Elara didn't look. She stayed crouched behind the railing and listened to all of the noise.

All of a sudden, Zophia was in front of her, saying, "Elara! That was amazing—you're gonna be a legend forever!" She had her hands on Elara's shoulders and a huge grin on her face. "That's going in every reel of best kills for the rest of time!"

"Is your ankle okay?" Elara asked distantly. "You were limping…"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Zophia said. "But you! You're amazing!"

"I'm amazing…" Elara repeated in an empty voice.

"Yeah you are!" Zophia pulled her to her feet. "Come on, we should get a move on. Find somewhere to set up camp for the night."

"Was there anyone at the Cornucopia?" Elara asked.

"Nope. Abandoned," Zophia said. "Not a lot of supplies left, either. Pretty picked over." She stopped, looking Elara over. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Elara said. "I'm just tired."

Zophia patted her on the shoulder. "You're okay. You're amazing."

"I'm just tired," Elara said again. "I want to go to bed."

They found a place to set up camp for the night. Elara shoved her helmet in the green backpack. She couldn't stand to see those kids' faces again today.

"It was pretty legendary, wasn't it?" Elara said.

"Hell yeah it was," Zophia said. "I meant what I said about it being in all those highlight reels. You know, those best kills compilations?"

"No," Elara said. "I've never seen any of those."

"Oh. Well, they're a thing," Zophia said. "You're a legend."

Elara looked down at her lap. This wasn't what she wanted to be remembered for. She wanted to be remembered for inventing something cool, or fixing a problem. She wanted to improve lives, not end them.

"This isn't what I wanted," she whispered.

"But it's what you got," Zophia replied. "You should get some sleep."

…

"I just…don't get what we're doing wrong," Theoden says, leaning against the countertop. "We've been trying for almost a year now."

"I know," Ione says. "We just have to keep trying. We'll get there. I promise."

She smiles at him, trying to inject as much sincerity into it as she can.

She's a coward. She's a liar.

"Have you seen Sally anywhere?" she asks, trying to change the topic.

"Maybe we should see a doctor," Theoden says. "Just to see if there's something wrong. You know, maybe one of us can't."

Ione tightens her grip on the table and says, "I don't think we need to go that far yet. We're fine, Theo. We'll…get there soon."

She walks out of the kitchen, telling Theoden she's going to look for Sally. Elara is standing in the hallway, shaking her head.

"You should tell him," she says.

"I can't," Ione responds.

"You get mad at me for keeping secrets, yet you keep an enormous one from your husband," Elara says. "I thought you didn't like hypocrites."

"This is different," Ione says.

"Is it?"

Ione glares at her. "Why don't you worry about your fucking problems, huh? Go have some more nightmares about the people you volunteered to kill and stop meddling in my life."

She stomps off down the hallway, ignoring the incredibly hurt look on Elara's face.

…

A pair of cannons sounded in quick succession early in the morning as Elara and Zophia set out for yet another trip to the water troughs. They avoided the cavern where Elara had killed the kids two days ago, even though their bodies would be long gone by now. It was out of respect, or maybe fear.

The walk to the water trough was uneventful. Elara and Zophia discussed who was most likely to have died. The hope was that the other two remaining Careers had offed each other, effectively removing the only real threats left in the Games.

But, of course, they couldn't be that lucky.

Zophia was filling up a water bottle at the trough while Elara kept watch. Her bow was in hand, arrow ready in the other, just in case. It proved to be the right choice when—

"Traitor!"

Axton was looking extremely worse for wear. His hair was matted with blood that dripped down his face. He stumbled every step, struggling to keep a hold on his sword, but still he moved forward.

Elara fired an arrow at him, but he was moving so erratically it missed by a mile. She notched another but before she could fire he crashed straight into Zophia. They tumbled over the trough, sending water everywhere. Zophia screamed, although Elara couldn't tell whether it was in pain or anger.

There was another arrow knocked back, ready to fire at Axton's back, as soon as she got a clear shot.

Yet for a split second, Elara had a thought.

She could not do anything. She could Axton kill Zophia, then kill him. Then who would be standing in her way? She killed those kids. She crossed that line. So why couldn't she do this?

If she was going to win, Zophia had to die. That was how it worked. They couldn't both survive. So why not let someone else do it for her?

The Games were no place for morals. Zophia had said it herself.

Morality doesn't win the Games. So she should let Axton kill Zophia.

She could do it. She'd only known Zophia for two weeks.

"Elara! Help me!" Zophia shouted.

But she cared about her. She enjoyed her company.

Zophia was her ally. Zophia was her enemy. Zophia was her friend.

This was one line she could not cross.

Elara fired the arrow.

…

"Why did you do it?"

The sheet of glass between them has shattered.

"I told you. I don't like seeing you live a lie."

The breeze is cold. It's almost July.

"I wasn't living a lie."

"You weren't happy."

"I was content."

The breeze blows harder.

"That's not the same thing! That's never been the same thing! Dad wasn't happy, Dad was content, and is he happy now? No! He's never been happy! He just convinced himself he could live with this! I don't want that to happen to you! And that man in there doesn't make you happy! I just met him last month and even I can tell that!"

"You had no right to meddle in my life!"

"I'll meddle as much as I damn well please! What was your plan, huh? What was going to happen when Theoden finally made you go see a doctor? Were you going to keep lying to him for your entire life?"

"I couldn't tell him! You know that!"

"No, I know that you wouldn't tell him! Because you're a fucking coward, Ione!"

"And you're reckless! You volunteered for the fucking Hunger Games because you were jealous!"

The wind blows through their hair. It's not like looking through a mirror anymore.

"Don't you think I fucking regret it? I regretted it before I even got to the stage!"

"You ruined our fucking lives by being too fucking reckless!"

"You ruined your own life!"

The world is quiet like it has been silenced.

"Why did you come back, Elara? I know it wasn't because you missed me."

There is a field of broken glass between them, and Ione is no longer willing to tear herself to shreds to return to her side.

"I'm leaving. I'm going home. That way we can ruin our lives separately."

"Maybe that's for the best."

Elara stands at the back door, hand on the frame. It's like a mirror again. "I love you."

"It doesn't feel like it."

The door shuts. Ione is alone.

…

"You weren't kidding. Everything really is picked over," Elara said, surveying the rocky terrain surrounding the Cornucopia.

"It's been ten days," Zophia called back from across the cavern. "It's no surprise."

Elara started to move down the incline toward the Cornucopia to deposit her supplies. Zophia had suggested they head to the Cornucopia early in preparation for the finale. There were only four tributes left now, and Elara couldn't deny that having the home advantage seemed like a good plan.

However, she couldn't keep the thought out of her mind that it might come down to her and Zophia. The other two tributes weren't particular threats if she remembered them correctly. The girl from Twelve was young and unremarkable. The girl from Seven was older and knew her way around an ax, but she was going to have to take down both Zophia and Elara.

She turned toward Zophia, smile on her face. She didn't know what she would do without someone to stand with. They were a team, and when the finale came, they might…well…Elara would cross that bridge if she came to it.

Everything was going to be okay.

Elara's shoulder hurt.

Why did her shoulder hurt?

Elara looked down, and there was a knife in her shoulder. Why was there a knife in her shoulder?

"Zophia?" she said.

Zophia was only a few feet away, holding her spear. "I'm sorry, Elara. I did like you. But there can only be one winner, and I can't let it be anyone but me."

"Zophia?" Elara repeated in disbelief.

"Hey, if it's any consolation, you're dying a legend, darling. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

"No!" Elara shouted. "I don't want—"

She grabbed the knife and tore it out of her shoulder. That was a mistake. That made it hurt more.

She fumbled for her bow, struggling to get her right arm to do what she needed it to. Zophia had another knife in her hand, and she kept coming closer as Elara kept backing up.

"You should've let Axton kill me," Zophia said. "But you didn't. So now I have to kill you."

"No—"

"Don't worry. I'll make sure it doesn't hurt. You're my friend."

"Friends don't kill friends," Elara said.

"Wake up, Elara! You're in the fucking Hunger Games! Friends kill friends because friends don't survive! There is only one winner!"

"And it's going to be me," Elara said quietly.

Zophia threw her knife—Elara took off running.

"You're a fucking coward!" Zophia shouted as she chased Elara up the incline to the next rock layer.

She wasn't a coward. She had a plan.

Maybe she really was the scheming type after all.

Using her good arm, Elara dug an arrow out of her quiver. She kept running, forcing Zophia to follow her up to the third rock layer, high above the Cornucopia. Her hands were shaking. Actually, all of her was shaking. But that was okay. She was okay.

Zophia wasn't far behind her. Elara stopped suddenly. In her haste to follow, Zophia tripped over the uneven terrain.

It was the opening Elara needed. She dove, straddling Zophia's legs, arrow in shaking hand.

Zophia's knife dug into Elara's collarbone, but there was enough adrenaline pouring into her veins to keep her moving. Elara drove the arrow straight into Zophia's left eye.

She screamed, digging the knife deeper into Elara's skin. Elara grunted, making choked noises of pain. She tore the arrow back out of Zophia's eye, trying to ignore the gore. She scrambled to her feet, watching Zophia press her hands to the wound.

It barely took Zophia any time to recover. She tackled Elara, swapping their positions. Somewhere along the way, Zophia had lost her knife.

Elara shoved her off, and Zophia rolled right to the edge of the pathway. Before she could get back to her feet, Elara pushed her off the edge.

A scream. A crunch. But not a cannon.

Elara managed to get to her knees and notch an arrow. She fired once, twice, three times before the cannon finally rang.

She leaned back against the rocks, breathing hard.

It was quiet. Elara was alone.

…

Ione sleeps in the guest room that night. And the next. And the next. She and Theoden are in this weird relationship purgatory. Theoden doesn't seem to know whether he wants to salvage the relationship or not. Ione is ready to be out.

And isn't that so awful? Theoden has never done anything to her. He has been nothing but a good, loving husband.

But Ione doesn't love him. She never did. She married him because that's what people are supposed to do—get married, have babies. She thought if she spent enough time with him, maybe she could love him.

On the fifth day after Elara left, Ione takes Sally for a walk. She passes Adora's house and spots a familiar figure digging in the garden.

"Hey," she says.

Elara stands up, brushing off her pants. "Hey."

"I thought you were going home."

"Wasn't ready to be alone yet."

"Sally misses you," Ione says, indicating the dog at her feet.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

The silence isn't suffocating anymore. It's just empty.

"We should talk," Ione says.

…

Elara was woken up by the sounds of fighting. She didn't remember falling asleep. She remembered Zophia and…

Oh. Right. She was stabbed. Twice.

She looked down and saw that her shoulder was soaked with blood. That was definitely not good. She looked around instead of thinking about that and saw two figures locked in battle in front of the Cornucopia.

Elara reached for her bow. It was hard to notch an arrow, and even harder to try and take a shot. Both of the figures were moving a lot, and Elara's vision was slightly blurry. Finally, with enough squinting, she got a clear shot on the taller of the two figures and fired.

A cannon rang out and Elara struggled to her feet.

"YOU!" a voice down in front of the Cornucopia shouted.

Elara started to stumble down toward where the voice came from, using her free hand to put pressure on whichever stab wound was closest.

"You killed my brother," the voice said, and apparently it was right in front of her now.

Elara squinted at it. It actually belonged to a body, which made sense. After a few moments, Elara recognized the body as being the girl from Twelve. She didn't know she had a brother.

"What?" Elara said.

"My brother. Auben. You crushed him with a fucking minecart."

"Oh. I did, yeah," Elara said. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" the girl said. "You killed my fucking brother, and that's all you have to say about it?"

"Well, I didn't know he was your brother," Elara said. "What are the odds of that?"

"Shut up. Just—shut the fuck up," the girl barked. "I'm gonna kill you. Because you killed my brother, and I'm going to go home."

She lunged. Elara dodged with a sincere lack of grace, nearly sending herself tumbling to the ground. Everything felt wrong. There was something really wrong.

Right. Blood loss.

The girl brought an ax down right beside Elara's head, and she wondered when the girl had gotten an ax. She didn't remember seeing one earlier.

She rolled out of the way before the ax could become embedded in her forehead and groaned when she landed on her shoulder.

"Why won't you fucking die?" the girl screamed, slamming the ax down onto the rock again.

Elara staggered to her feet, throwing out a hand to keep herself steady. She still had a few arrows. She was too close to start firing them, but they were sharp. She threw herself forward, arrow in each hand, trying desperately to stab the girl with one of them.

Predicably, she missed. The ax narrowly missed chopping off her hand. Elara reached out and grabbed the handle of the ax, trying to wrench it out of the girl's grip. The girl was small and thin, and it wasn't very hard.

Once Elara had it in her hands, she didn't know what to do with it. How do you stab someone with an ax? Is that a thing you can do?

She stood and pondered for a moment, and suddenly there was an arrow in her back and it fucking hurt.

"Die! Just fucking die!" the girl shouted.

Elara rolled again, throwing the girl away, and swung the ax wildly. There was a shriek and thunk, and Elara opened her eyes. The girl was writhing on the floor, clutching her mangled face with bloodied hands. Elara gagged at the sight of what was left of her face.

Slowly, cautiously, Elara grabbed an arrow and slit the girl's throat. She choked, blood pouring out, and Elara sat back on her knees and just watched.

A cannon fired. Trumpets blared. A voice in the ceiling announced Elara Cygnus as the Victor of the One-Hundredth Forty-Fourth Hunger Games.

"Oh. Cool," Elara said, and then she passed out.

…

They sit on the back porch together, and they cannot see the sunset. Maybe if Ione closes her eyes, she can imagine they are young again, and their father is between them, and the world is still waiting for them.

The world isn't waiting anymore, but maybe it will come back for them.

"I feel like the world has already passed me by," Elara says. "Like I've already run out of time."

"You're only twenty-seven. You've got time."

"I know," Elara says. "But I feel…too late."

The silence is suffocating again.

"So…Theoden and I are getting a divorce," Ione says.

"I figured," Elara says. "I am sorry. I just…didn't like watching you guys live a lie."

"I…understand," Ione says. "It's for the best, really. I was never going to be happy with him."

"I'm glad you realized that," Elara says. "I'm glad we're both going to try and be happy."

"Yeah," Ione says. "What are you going to do now?"

"I talked to Rhett this morning," Elara says. "I told him I want to mentor this year. If he wanted me to. He said he would so much rather spend the time with me than Tierra. So…I'm going back to the Capitol next week."

"Really?" Ione says. "Are you sure you want that?"

"I don't want it," Elara says. "I just have a promise that I need to make good on. So I'm going back."

"Can I give you my phone number?" Ione says. "I don't want to fall out of touch again."

"I'm not leaving," Elara says. "I'm staying right here. If you'll have me."

Ione smiles at her and puts an arm around her, pulling her against her side. "Well, Theoden's taking the house. But I'm keeping the dog. So we'll have to find somewhere dog friendly."

"I do still own a house in the Victors' Village, you know," Elara says. "Legally, I'm supposed to live there."

"Then we can live there," Ione says. "I'm glad you're gonna stay, Elara."

Elara nods, placing her head on Ione's shoulder. "Before we go for this, are there any other big secrets I should know about?"

Ione sits up a bit. She should tell her. Elara deserves to know. "I…never watched your Games."

"What?" Elara says quietly.

"I didn't watch your Games," Ione says. "I couldn't. I was mad, and scared, and bitter, and I didn't. I'm sorry."

"I…kinda figured," Elara says. "You never seemed to know what I was talking about."

"You're not mad?"

"I mean, maybe a little," Elara says. "But it happened ten years ago. And they play reruns all the damn time. You can watch it whenever. Or never, if you'd rather." Elara shifts, lifting her head off of Ione's shoulder. "Really, I think I'd prefer it if you never did."

"What? Why?"

"It's nice to have someone who doesn't know what I did," Elara says. "Someone who can just see me for me, rather than for the people I killed."

The sky is dark now. The sun has set a long ago.

"If that's what you want," Ione says. "then I'll never watch them."

Elara smiles. "Thank you."

"I love you," Ione says.

"I love you too."

When Ione looks at Elara, she doesn't see a mirror. She sees a window.

…

The day after Elara came home from her Victory Tour, the house was empty. Ione came home from school expecting to see Elara on the couch like always. But there was no one there. It was almost as if there never had been anyone at all.

Elara didn't come back that night. Or the next. Or the next.

Eventually, Ione came to the conclusion that she wasn't coming home.

It was probably for the best. There was no fixing that relationship, anyway.

---

A/N: Have you ever seen the movie the Skeleton Twins? Lol.

The lovely Elara Cygnus (and Ione) belong to ! Thank you so much for both of them. I have loved having them live in my head for the past month and I have loved breaking them apart and putting them back together. Sorry for all I put them through :).

Stay tuned for some more Elara in my verse, because she'll be back for There's Blood In The Water.

-Amanda