I took a very long time. I am both incredibly busy and incredibly lazy. I actually planned this whole chapter before I even wrote the last one. I actually already mapped out the majority of the story, I just have to stop being lazy and write it.

Thank you for the sweet comments! They made me finally sit down and type this up. Also... Bet you didn't see that coming.


- Gold -

She's caught off guard, though honestly she doesn't even know why. The princess, torn and tattered, walking in calm and assured right through one of the main halls.

Every arena ever built has a similar tunnel system. The main area that opens up the ground above for the helicopter to descend in, this drops off the tributes to their respective stylists. From there they are taken through the medium halls that lead to polish rooms. It is here that they receive their final change of clothes for the games and any last minute priming they require. Finally they will be lead through the small halls that take them to the ascending room where, well, they ascend to the arena. Though, what they all fail to see is the large halls. These halls have two purposes. They weave paths all throughout the arena that allow the engineers of the game makers to adjust or fix anything on sight should any catastrophic events take place. They also all lead to essentially what looks like dead ends but really is entrances to the stage. These entrances allow the medics easy access to new victors in need of immediate medical attention. That ensures tributes turned victor do not turn corpses during transport to the capitol.

She remembers hearing about some of the first victors having close calls due to blood loss and fetal injuries not being properly treated in a rush to be presented. This caused concern among capitol electives, what would the new districts do if their new victor died due to capitol neglect. Of course to mitigate any backlash they came up with the new way.

Now once the cannon sounds a final look at the new victor will be projected, to catch the pure unadulterated emotion of course. Footage cuts and the victor will be tranquilized while their guard is down to ensure the safety of everyone involved. It was a district two victor in the first years, adrenaline still pumping from war, who attacked an on-sight healer. Another lesson learned. Brought down to the halls, treated for major injuries, and shipped out once the experts are fully confident they will make it through the trip. Though the process can take up to many days for the victor it is as simple as standing in the arena one second and then laying in the med bed the next.

A niche topic of knowledge as all mentoring victors are stationed back at the capital to encourage sponsorships with the citizens up till the final cannon, and all newly named victors are tranquilized the moment the screens cut. A well oiled machine the system would be called back in the old days.

All of this to say, she was surprised by the sight of her battle worn princess gliding in of her own accord, every bit the regal sight of royalty. The medics opting to heal another. "Gold?" A fresh blindfold. And a fresh bowl of water. Princess Snow bringing the water over her face with both palms cupped. Eyes cleaned, nostrils cleared. The once clear water becomes opaque and the once grotesque skin becomes clean again.

Falling into step was completely natural. Others had warned her that approaching a new victor could be dangerous. They became paranoid and jumpy. But this was no victor, this was royalty. Honestly there was nothing surprising in this moment. No, the surprise had come just minutes earlier. A shock that would go down in history. Something that had never before been considered. Something that would never again be replicated. "Are there any injuries or concerns that should be addressed before we set flight back to the capital?"

"Food."

They loaded into the private aircraft. A silent luxurious travel in comparison to the lazed slow speed of the helicopter generally in use.

Gold thinks back to the end, replays it in her mind. The feeling of watching the screen, being so close to it but separated from it all still. The confusion, the horror, the confusion, the shock. One day she'd ask about it but not today.

As the ship sets to auto pilot and Katniss quietly munches away on her breakfast she's back in the moment of watching her Princess on the monitor. So large that it took the entire wall, so large that she may as well have been watching through a glass window, though she was only a yard away from the action all the same.

The Princess fighting against the mutts, and then against Clove.

The cannon sounds.

Peeta and Rue standing behind the Princess, their nerves clearly displayed across their faces. Princess Snow studies them both for a moment. A moment that feels like it spans the length of a water droplet and the treacherous passing of a calendar month all at once. Her face, her stance, her shallow panting all showing her exhaustion. Soon she will be back home. Floating through the water in her bathing room. Oils and petals sharing her space, fruits and sweets littering the fined tiled edges of her spas. "Rue, go into the tree line."

It's clear to the onlooking world. The lives of the district eleven girl and the district twelve boy rest entirely in the Princesses possession. The lives of all district citizens really. Gold knows, she's far too invested in the girl to ever consider sparing the boy. His life will be over before it ever really begun. "Rue, I promised i'll take care of you."

Startled. Her hands wrapped around the delicate neck of the too sweet girl. A girl so sweet and caring. A girl so trusting as to turn her back in this very moment. This is not how Gold imagined the Princess taking care of her. Though horror was not the right word all the same, not for Gold at least. Shocked would be more astute. She's thought that she's spent enough time with her Princess, thought that she's be best to gage her Princesses true emotions and desires. She would never be able to direct horror to her darling girl and truthfully, she understood. The boy was strong, it was his leg that was injured, he was able to fight in close quarters. It would be a rough fight. Rue was small, with no weapons and a single arm to protect herself with. Rue was far too trusting. If Rue's death brought home her Princess, then so be it.

Cannon.

The game has finished.

The camera, panels around to get the moment of victory. Peeta on hands and knees, vomit covering his mouth. And the Princess... The camera coming to abrupt stop at the sight. She had to do a double take, a triple take, those in the room around her let out confused sounds. This... was a familiar sight, she had seen this once before. Chest compressions.