Chapter 1:

The willow tree outside Hebe's window shielded her from the morning light that threatened to rouse her from the peaceful doze she found herself indulging in. The dappled glow that managed to penetrate the leaves of her protector and fall across her tan skin warmed her face and caused a sleepy smile to spread across it. In her state of semi-consciousness she could vaguely register the soothing rustle of a light breeze through the willow tree and the scent of the sea wafting its way in through her window. Hebe felt herself finally wake fully, basking in the bliss of the spring sun and the promise of a new day. Then the crash of realisation, the waves of nausea as she understood what kind of promise this new day held.

She groaned before grabbing her alarm clock and checking the time, 6:29. She had to get up, no more time could be wasted on her dozing. Deciding to just get it over with, she ripped the duvet off her body and stood up, shivering now that she had left the warm cocoon of her bed. Hebe padded over to her desk, switching on her lamp and grabbing a bundle of her clothes before departing to the bathroom.

She emerged only twenty minutes later, fully decked out in the old joggers and t-shirt she wore for her runs and morning workouts, coily hair casually tied in a ponytail. She tiptoed quietly through her home, carefully avoiding the steps that creaked and the floorboards that groaned under the weight of anything heavier than a paper bag. She then reached the front door and tried to open it as quietly as possible, it was not as easy as it used to be, her house was almost as old as Panem itself and her door had swelled with the moisture from the spring monsoon season. Despite all this secrecy Hebe knew that her mother wouldn't be roused by anything short of a riot. Father had always said she could sleep through the dark days and now more than ever that fact seemed to be true. She shook her head to push these thoughts away and embarked on her run.

Running seemed to be the one thing that always cleared Hebe's head, the pounding of her feet against the pavement, the burn of her muscles and harsh intakes of breath created a rhythm that soothed her into a daydream, a melody to distract her from the cacophony of stresses that filled her young life. Her route was a 5 km, weaving its way through the heart of District 4, through the suburbs where she has dwelled all her life, past the justice building and through the market, before looping around the docks and returning her to her home via the beach and past perhaps the most important landmark, Victor's village.

She slowed everytime she passed it, straining to admire the white facades and slated roofs, the statue of a sea god wielding his trident as he raced on his chariot. Hebe had an undeniable amount of respect and admiration for the victors, as did everyone else in District 4. After all, it was a career district, and they were taught from birth what an honour it was to even compete in the games, it was possibly the greatest thing you could do. However Hebe didn't stop to admire her favourite victors, she wasn't waiting by the gate every morning hoping to catch a glimpse of one. She wasn't like one of those Capitol imbeciles that treated victors like zoo animals or possessions to be won. Rather she chose to pass Victor's village on her runs in order to remind her what she was aspiring too. And why it was so important.

A year and a half ago, Hebe's father didn't return from the docks as normal. He had returned from sea as normal, bid goodbye to the other men at the docks and departed home. Somewhere along the way he was attacked by a group of junkies, looking for someone to rob to feed their morphling addiction. He tried to stop them; he had just received his pay and they weren't exactly well off at the time, but they pulled out a knife and killed him. His body was found three days later in a ditch. It destroyed her mother, she had pretty much hid herself in her room ever since.

Fathers pension hadn't lasted long and Hebe was forced to pick up the slack. She took extra shifts at her aunt's cafe and started working at the docks. It kept them afloat but she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. That's when Hebe had the idea. If she won the hunger games, then she could provide for her and her mother for the rest of her life without issue. She had always been good at the academy but nowhere near exceptional. She hadn't seen much reason in putting in the extra effort when she was younger, after all, why would she ever need to volunteer? How things change.

She began training after school as well as at the academy, working out every morning, and soon she had the attention of the rest of the attendees as well as the trainers. She had shot up the rankings in such a short amount it was like she had appeared out of thin air, her natural talent and hard work carrying her above any other student currently in attendance, and now, at age 18, she was going to volunteer. Today, at her final reaping, Hebe was going to cement herself in the history of Panem. She was going to win the 69th hunger games.

She realised with a start that she had been so lost in her thoughts that she had been standing still staring at the wrought iron fence of Victor's village for some time. And she realised with even more alarm that staring right back at her from behind the bars was a victor.

Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th hunger games stood about 20 metres away holding a cerulean mug, his face adorned with a smug smirk.. He had won his games at 14, the youngest ever, and for the last 4 years had become a sort of living legend in not only District 4, but all of Panem. While Hebe may have an undeniable respect for the victors, she was not so keen on Finnick. After all, anyone forced to suffer through 4 years of watching someone gloat and preen on live television may come to find it tiresome after a while. However it was clear this sentiment was not shared in the capitol. They adored him there and seemingly never tired of his charm. Even the girls of District 4 couldn't help but love him, following him through the market in hordes, like moths to a flame.

It occurred to Hebe just then that she had once again been lost in her daydreams, and once again was greeted with the sight of Finnick grinning at her. Just then, he seemed to have realised she had snapped out of whatever daze she was in and decided to have a little fun with her. He raised his hand in a rather coy wave, beaming at her wolfishly, clearly amused. And, before Hebe could even think to process this rather strange course of events, he turned on his heel and left, stalking back into his large white house.

Hebe simply stared in confusion at the spot he had inhabited before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted today, it was simply too important. And with that, she continued with her run, letting her pounding feet and racing heart distract her from the chaos of thoughts that swirled in her head.

The rest of her run back to her house was allowed to go on without incident. As soon as Hebe got inside she flopped down on her couch, to mentally and physically drained to even get breakfast. Instead she reached for her remote to switch on the TV and was immediately greeted with Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith already revelling in the excitement of another year of games.

It wasn't as though they really had anything to talk about yet though, as the reapings hadn't yet begun. But still, it was their jobs to whip up the capitol crowds into a hunger games loving frenzy, and they were undeniably incredibly good at doing just that.

Right now they were reflecting on last year's games, and unsurprisingly it had been one of the Careers, a girl from one named Diamond. "God do they ever tire of giving their kids stupid names", Hebe thought. They really weren't exactly subtle about the whole luxury district thing, always choosing the most pathetic simpering names. Hebe recalled one year where a girl named Gem Amethyst Rose was competing. She was just as weak and bratty as her name suggested, and was killed almost immediately by a boy from twelve wielding only a small knife.

Diamond had been equally as irritating although slightly more savvy, instigating a series of feuds between her allies and letting them kill each other off, allowing her to spear the remaining tributes from the outlying districts like fish in a barrel.

Caesar showed a shot on screen of Diamond spearing the last tribute that stood in her way to be crowned victor and spouted one of his favourite lines.

"This is the moment when a tribute becomes a victor," He remarked, grinning into the camera, his unnervingly sparkling teeth on full display.

"That's absolutely right Caesar," Claudius chimed in, nodding sagely, "And what a savage killing too, I hope we have something equally entertaining this year, though I'm not sure what can top that!"

"It'll take a very special tribute and a very special arena, but our lovely districts never disappoint do they! I can't wait to meet them, and of course we will be airing the reapings in full for all our lovely viewers in just a few hours, so make sure you're ready for that!" Caesar exclaimed.

Hebe smirked to herself, she was going to give them the show of a lifetime. Soon Hebe Cross was going to be crowned victor, and it would be a moment to remember.

She relaxed into the couch allowing herself a few more minutes to rest. She knew that when she got up, she wasn't going to be given more than a moment to herself until she was out of the games and back home again. She sighed, closing her eyes, allowing the darkness to consume her, swallow her whole, until the growl of her stomach interrupted her restful state.

She got up and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread and a glass of orange juice, sitting down at the table and thinking about the reaping. She was still determined to volunteer, still determined to win, but for the first time since concocting her wild plan, Hebe considered the fact that she may not make it out. It was a fleeting thought however because it was immediately interrupted by the sound of her mother descending the stairs.

To be honest, she looked awful, her thinning hair was knotted and wild, she was still wearing the same clothes from the night before, her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her sobs had kept Hebe up most of the night.

Telling her prideful mother about her intentions to volunteer was undoubtedly the most difficult part of it. She had put it off until only a few weeks ago, and had only told her in the first place for fear that the surprise of it may send her spiralling irrevocably. Juno Cross hadn't always been this fragile, but she had never really recovered from her husband's death. Hebe knew that if she didn't make it out of the games that Juno would die with her, but she had no other choice. Her mother had tried to convince her not to do it, begging and pleading with her, but once her mind was set on something, Hebe would follow through even if it was foolhardy.

Her mother had spiralled since she realised that there was nothing she could do to change her mind, however it seemed she had come to terms with it as much as she could, and it was promising that she could haul herself out of bed to accompany Hebe to the reaping.

"Hi mum," Hebe said cautiously, talking to her like a piece of china that might break if she was pushed too hard, "How'd you sleep?"

"I think you're asking me that as more of a courtesy than anything else," Her mother chuckled humorlessly and Hebe joined her.

"Yeah I guess it is."

"Listen, I know you say your deadset on this-"

"I am."

"Yeah well if you don't do it, I'll still be proud of you," Her mother smiled bitterly as she made one last plea for her daughter to stay, despite the fact that she knew it fell on deaf ears. Even though she could be over-protective, Juno Cross was District 4 through and through. It had practically been bred into her to admire the games.

"Thanks mum," Hebe smiled back at her mother, wiping her eyes before they began to water.

"Now, you better get upstairs and get changed. And have a bath, you don't want to be known as the stinkiest tribute in the training centre."

"Ouch, I'm wounded." Hebe replied, already walking to her room.

When she pushed open the door to her room, hair wet from her shower, towel wrapped around her body she was met with the sight of a sea green linen dress. It had a scoop neckline and three quarter length sleeves, cinching at the waist and falling in pleats down to her ankles, thin strips of similarly coloured lace lined the hem of the skirt as well as the neckline and sleeves. Put simply, it was beautiful and tears threatened to fall from Hebe's eyes as she reached out to touch it. She could tell it had been ironed and her chest swelled with love for her mother. She must have been taking up those extra shifts to pay for it. She knew to make her stand out and get sponsors, and with a dress as beautiful as this she was sure to get the Capitol's attention. She practically ripped it off the clothing hanger and pulled it over her body, reaching back to pull up the zip.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror pulling her dark coily hair over her shoulder, convinced that this was the best she could ever look.

She brushed through her hair again before separating it into two sections and plaiting them so she had matching pigtails. She smiled, remembering how she had done the exact same hairstyle for her first reaping when she was just twelve. She remembered spinning for her father as he beamed down at her lovingly.

She stared into her eyes in the mirror. A determined look crossed her face. She was going to win. For her father and her mother. Just then her mother called her down, saying they were about to leave. Hebe strode out of her room, descending the stairs with confidence she hadn't felt in years. Her mother smiled at her in that same bittersweet way she had in the kitchen. Juno Cross' hair no longer looked matted and tousled, instead combed and placed in a bun, her eyes still slightly red but not noticeably so. She wore a blue dress with red florals, the only one she owned. She preferred practical trousers and tops now that she was older and valued comfort over style.

In her hands she held a necklace with a gold ring hanging in the centre, one Hebe immediately recognised as her fathers, her fathers wedding band to be precise.

"For you." Her mother said simply. No more words were needed, and no more pleas left her lips.

Hebe bowed her head and allowed her mother to clasp the cord around her neck. They smiled at one another, recognising that this was the last moment of unadulterated peace they'd have together, silently embracing each other in the hallway of their home in District 4.

They were jolted out of their hug by a knock at their door and Hebe separated from her mother to answer it but not before shooting her one last sad smile.

She pulled open the door with some difficulty, and stood on the steps of her house was Annie Cresta, one of Hebe's oldest (and only) friends. They grinned at each other, Annie was dressed in her reaping clothes as well, a floral blue skirt and frilly white shirt.

Annie was a year younger than Hebe, and the only one at the academy that could compete with her. She was planning to volunteer next year, they were going to be back to back winners. Annie was obvious victor material, pretty face, luscious wavy red hair, curved, muscular frame. She was also fiery (something that had rubbed off on Hebe) and unfailingly kind. She always said she was going to win and Hebe believed her whole-heartedly.

Annie leaned in for a hug, squeezing the older girl tightly, "Well don't you look beautiful! Preparing to make your first public appearance?"

"Yeah I was thinking that I could do a cartwheel walking up there. I wanna make the right impression, y'know?"

Annie chuckled, peering behind Hebe to look at her mother instead.

"Annie Cresta, as I live and breathe," Juno Cross smiled, embracing the younger girl. Annie's parents were emotionally unavailable and frankly assholes, so she spent a lot of time at the Cross household. And although Juno wasn't always a bundle of laughs, she loved Annie like an adoptive daughter and did her best to help her out.

"A pleasure as always Juno," Annie replied coolly, before practically jumping into the older woman's arms leaving Hebe to chuckle at them both.

"Now that you're finally here I guess it's time to go isn't it?" Hebe remarked.

"Hey! I wasn't that late…" Annie said bashfully as they all started walking out the door. While she had many qualities, punctuality wasn't one of them.

Hebe and Annie spent the whole way to the reaping cracking jokes about how Hebe would make her entrance while Mrs Cross smiled sadly at them.

"Ooh maybe I should dance up there and do a big overdramatic curtsey at the top,"

"You should walk up there and give Ambrosia a big kiss on the mouth!" Annie giggled and Hebe joined in with her infectious laughter at the idea of it.

Ambrosia Delatour was the uptight Capitol escort assigned to District 4. Like most of the Capitol escorts you got the feeling that she was less than pleased by the state of the districts and was promised much more glamour when she took the job. At least she had a career district like 4 that actually won fairly frequently. Unlike poor old Effie Trinket, the escort for District 12 who had been forced to endure helpless tributes for the last decade.

Annie and Hebe kept up their ceaseless giggles until they reached the square, the sombre atmosphere dampening the collective mood of the group. Hebe embraced her mother one last time, and Annie did the same. Juno Cross then departed for the crowds of anxious parents, looking even more pale than the rest.

Annie left Hebe to get signed in with the rest of the 17 year olds, giving her another bone crushing hug and pat on the back, promising that she would come say goodbye. Hebe didn't doubt her for a second.

She walked up to the peacekeeper and they roughly grabbed her wrist and pricked her finger, pressing the bloody fingerprint into their record book. She didn't even feel it.

She walked to her section dazedly, staring straight ahead like she was in a trance following the other 18 year olds. She was so out of it that she would have let them lead her off a cliff, and would've followed them to her imminent death. Maybe that's what she was doing now, letting them lead her to the hunger games, to her death.

She only snapped out of her daydreams when she heard Ambrosias grating voice emanate from the tinny speakers. Hebe remembered why she was here and felt another rush of determination go through her, grateful for the adrenaline.

Ambrosia did her usual schtick about the glory of the Capitol and the games, playing the video about the dark days and why the games were founded. At this point Hebe could probably recite it from memory. She looked over and saw Annie roll her eyes, looking bored to death. She could clearly feel the eyes on her and turned to look at Hebe, nodding at her in encouragement just as the video finished.

Hebe felt the familiar knot of anxiety in her stomach, but it was pushed down by a sense of purpose. She was going to volunteer and she was going to win. For her mother and for Annie.

"And now that we've finished that fascinating video straight from the Capitol, we'll get on with the real excitement! The reaping!" Ambrosia practically squealed, seeming all too keen on the idea of sending children off to die.

"As always, ladies first." Ambrosia strolled over to the two large glass bowls filled with hundreds of white paper slips. They may as well have all said Hebe's name on them, the outcome of the reaping would be the same. She reached into the girls bowl, hand hovering over the pieces of paper. Everyone in the square waited with baited breath, Hebe schooled her expression into one of confidence as she waited. Despite her joking with Annie they both knew that the importance of first impressions at the reaping could not be understated. What she did now could mean the difference between life and death.

Ambrosia plucked one of the slips out of the bowl and began to unfold it. She read out the name.

"Angeline Piscis!" she shouted.

Hebe barely let her finish before raising her hand in the air and crying out,

"I volunteer as tribute!"

A mumble went through the crowd as the girls in her section parted to let her through the crowd.

"Well, well, a volunteer! Come up dear, come up." Ambrosia said, sounding slightly taken aback. Maybe the immediacy with which Hebe had volunteered had surprised her, but it wasn't like volunteers were unheard of in 4. It wasn't as widespread as in 1 and 2 but it happened nonetheless.

Hebe lifted her dress as delicately as she could while ascending the steps to the stage, lest she fall and make a fool out of herself in front of the entire nation. She kept the same calm confident expression plastered to her face, despite the mix of nerves and adrenaline wreaking havoc in her stomach.

"So what's your name my dear?" Ambrosia simpered, she was even more irritating up close. Hebe didn't let it show though.

"Hebe Cross."

"Well I have to say, you look beautiful darling. And confident too!" Ambrosia smiled, and Hebe returned the grin politely thanking her.

Hebe's gaze fell onto the 12 year old section where she knew Angeline Piscis to be, and sure enough staring up at her gratefully was Angeline, teary eyed and shaking. Hebe felt like she had been stabbed when she looked at how torn up the girl was. She was glad that her volunteering had done some good.

Next she searched the crowds for her mother, spotting her near the front holding onto the railings, her knuckles white and her face numb. Even though she knew it was coming, seeing her only daughter be shipped off to the hunger games was something Juno Cross could never really prepare herself for. Hebe tore her gaze away from her mother and brought her attention back to the reapings.

Ambrosia was reaching into the boys bowl, choosing to rummage this time for a slip. She finally picked one and pulled it out, shouting the name out into the square.

"Luca Merritt!"

The boys in the thirteen year old section craned their necks, clearly trying to figure out where Luca was. Then a small frail boy with dark curly hair and honey skin stepped out from their ranks. He was abnormally tiny and looked weak, almost to the point of sickness. Hebe felt her heart shatter as she realised he would never make it. He wasn't exactly Finnick Odair.

He still tried though, tilting his chin up and shoulders back as he strode forward to the platform. Ambrosia made her usual meaningless comments before leading him to stand beside Hebe. She turned to the boy and smiled warmly at him before reaching to shake his hand. He smiled back at her, clearly terrified. They shook hands but he didn't let go holding her hand tightly.

Ambrosia then announced them both,

"This year's tributes for District 4, Hebe Cross and Luca Merritt!"

The crowd erupted into a roar of clapping and cheering and Hebe couldn't help but be filled with pride in her district. She was going to win.