content warning for an adult making romantic advances on a minor

Arawn Giedroyc, 18

District 12 Female

I brushed my sweaty hair out of my eyes, ignoring the smudge of dirt that was streaked across my forehead. I'd just get dirtier and dirtier. There was no point in wiping it off now. The life of a gravedigger was dirty work.

I'd been working in this graveyard since I was twelve years old. It was a monotonous job, but it paid the bills, and that was what I needed. There was no point in striving to be more in life than I was. I was a gravedigger. I was a son. I was a brother. And my duty was to my family first.

It was how I justified my newest way of making money. I was seen as morbid and unapproachable, too closely tied with the concept of death to be trusted or befriended. But just over nine months ago, there was a massive collapse in the mines. Nearly two dozen people died. I was up all night digging. And a week later, the wife of a man who died came to me. She was a spiritual woman, and asked me if her husband was at peace.

I didn't know what to tell her. I spent quite a lot of time around death, but I didn't know where people's souls went once they died. Some people appeared to be in pain. Some were accepting. Some were resigned.

I told the woman her husband was safe and happy. The relief in her eyes was surprising. And it gave me an idea. Now I offered communication services to those who had lost someone.

I wouldn't have done it if my mother wasn't ill. I felt as if I was disturbing something sacred. The dead should be left to rest. But I couldn't let my mother join them yet. I knew we would all die someday. I wasn't afraid of it. But I knew in my heart that it wasn't my mother's time to go. I needed her. Rhonna needed her.

"Excuse me… are you Arawn?" a hesitant voice asked. I set down my shovel and turned to look at the woman behind me. She was tall and had mousy brown hair, and a sad expression on her face.

"I am," I said. "How can I help you?"

"My sister…" she said quietly. "I lost her last year. Tomorrow is Reaping Day, and I'd like to… see… her, if I can."

"I will do my best to help," I told her. "What is her name?"

"Rosalie Jones," the woman said. I nodded and led her through the maze of tombstones to her sister's gravestone.

Deceased tributes had their own special place in the cemetery. Every year, I buried their plain wooden coffins and thought of what it would be like to join them. I remembered Rosalie. She looked small and fragile.

I knelt by her grave and her sister joined me. I touched two fingers to the top of the headstone and closed my eyes.

"She won't lie to you," I said after a moment. "Her death was painful." It was true. Rosalie was tortured by the Careers on the fourth day of the Games. The boy from 1 dealt the killing blow.

"But she is safe now. She is beyond anything that can hurt her. And she loves you."

I opened my eyes and glanced at the girl. There were tears in her eyes, but she nodded in acceptance.

"Thank you," she whispered, wiping her eyes. She opened her small purse and placed several bills in my hand. I thanked her. And as she left, I went back to my digging.

Marjoram Donell, 14

District 12 Female

"Marjoram, Remus would like to see you."

Ms. Cross's words sent a flash of fear through my chest. Lately, my boss had been asking to see me more and more often. He was a strict, temperamental man and I was afraid to disobey him. I was also afraid of his growing interest in me.

Ever since my body began to change, Head Peacekeeper Remus had shown more of an interest in me. He had me clean his room and bring him his breakfast. He asked me about my day and told me I looked nice and was a good worker. It made me feel icky.

But I couldn't afford to lose my job. My grandparents couldn't support me or themselves without the extra money. And Grandpa Buck was reaching the end of his life and then we'd have funeral expenses and less income. My job as a maid was crucial.

"What does he need?" I asked Ms. Cross, fighting to keep the quiver out of my voice. Maybe I was just imagining it. Maybe Head Peacekeeper Remus was rewarding me for my hard work, or thinking about giving me a raise. Or maybe I was just being too sensitive.

"He wants his tea and specifically requested it from you," Ms. Cross, the head maid, said. She gestured to the silver tray on the kitchen table. "I've already prepared it."

"Thank you," I murmured. I carefully picked up the gleaming tray and began to climb the old staircase.

Remus's house was old and grand. It had many nooks and alcoves, big glass windows that looked out into the forest, a big library, and a tangled, wild garden with a pond full of frogs. When I first began to work here, my best friend Rosie and I would go out to catch them. We'd pick flowers and make crowns out of them, and play hand-clapping games until we couldn't think of any more rhymes. I missed it.

The Head Peacekeeper's door was closed, and I shifted the tray in my hands to knock on it.

"Come in," he said, his voice rough. I held back a cough as I awkwardly opened the door and entered. The room was filled with smoke from his polished wooden pipe.

"Ah, Marjoram," he said, setting his pipe down on an ashtray. "It's good to see you. Are you well?"

"Yes sir, I am," I said, setting the tea tray on his desk. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" I bowed my head, desperately avoiding his eyes.

"Stay and talk with me," he said, sitting on the end of his bed.

"I have lots of chores to do…" I said hesitantly, inching towards the door. His hand slammed down on the mattress beside him and I flinched.

"You can spare a few minutes," he said firmly. I nodded.

"Have you been home recently?" he asked. I nodded again. We got two days every two weeks to go home and see our families. It was always nice to spend time with my grandparents. I missed them while I worked. And I could go for walks in the meadow and pick wildflowers and herbs.

"Good," Remus continued. "I called for you today because I wanted to praise you for your exceptional service." He walked over to me and tucked his hand under my chin, forcing my head up. My heart felt like it would pound out of my chest.

Remus's green eyes pierced mine and I shivered.

"Don't be afraid," he cooed. "You're such a good girl. You deserve a reward." Tears pooled in my eyes, but just as they were about to fall, something crashed outside. Dishered shattered and someone let out a muffled yelp.

"Oh!" I gasped, jumping away from Remus. "I'd better go help!" And I fled from the room before he could reply.

At the end of the hall, Rosie was bent over a pile of broken dishes. She was carefully placing them on a tray, but paused when she saw me.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, using the clinking of ceramic to cover her voice. I nodded, ignoring the way my hands were shaking.

I moved to help her, crouching down and beginning to collect the pieces. Rosie put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"I'm here," she murmured.

"I know," I whispered back. "Thank you."

Pomegranate "Meg" Hyssop, 27

District 12 Escort

I huffed as I fiddled with the hem of my large t-shirt. It was too long and I couldn't get to tie up! But I was determined to make it work. I'd worked hard on this shirt and I wanted to show it off. It was a beautiful tye-dye of purples, yellows, and oranges, with a few hints of blue, like a sunset. I could tuck it into my gauzy golden skirt, but I was worried it would look strange. I twirled a strand of my magenta-streaked hair as I thought.

"Hey there," a crackly voice said from behind me, making me jump in surprise. I turned to see District 12's first victor, Echo Lin, standing behind me.

"Oh! Hi!" I squeaked, letting go of my shirt to wave at her. She gave me a crooked smile in return. Echo was in her 70s now, but I'd seen videos of her in her prime. She was still tall and had the same mischievous brown eyes, but her hair was gray and her skin wrinkled. She winked at me as I looked her up and down.

"It's very nice to meet you!" I gasped, suddenly remembering my manners. I extended a hand, which Echo shook firmly. "I'm Meg Hyssop."

"Echo Lin," she responded. "Which you already know." Then she turned to look over her shoulder and shouted.

"Haymitch!"

A scraggly man with shaggy blonde hair staggered through the doorway. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly and his blue eyes were bloodshot. He gave me a drunken smile and waved unsteadily.

"We have a new escort," Echo said. "Say "hello'."

"Hello," Haymitch slurred.

"Hi. Nice to meet you…" I mumbled, scooting closer to Echo.

Haymitch watched me for a moment as I looked everywhere but his eyes.

"Your shirt is colorful," he finally said. I nodded awkwardly and Echo scoffed.

"Incredible observation skills, as always," she said with an eye roll. Then she turned to me. "Don't mind Haymitch. We're glad to have you here."

"Thank you," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to fetch Haymitch some water," Echo said. She turned to her fellow victor. "Don't go anywhere," she instructed. Then she walked off down a different hall. I looked back at the dusty mirror and began to work on my shirt again.

Finally, I had the hem tied up properly. The cropped style really put the ensemble together. I was proud of it. I made my own dyes, and this particular shade of purple was especially tricky. But it turned out wonderfully.

"Alright, come here," Echo called. She waved her arms to pull Haymitch and I into a huddle.

"We're a team," she said quietly. "Whoever is reaped this year are our wards. It's our job to make sure they succeed. Are you ready?"

"Yeah!" I cheered. Haymitch gave an awkward thumbs up.

Mayor Silviac stepped into the room, a worried expression on his worn face.

"Pomegranate!" he called. "It's time!"
"Oh, sorry! I'm coming," I rushed over to him, raising my long skirt so I wouldn't trip. The last thing I heard before stepping outside was a whisper from Haymitch.

"She's a pomegranate?"

After taking a deep breath to dispel the nerves, I stepped out onto the sun-soaked stage. The hot, tired citizens of District 12 stood before me. No one looked excited to be here. I gulped. This would be tougher than I thought.

I marched over to the microphone, my biggest smile on my face. I would make this district love me! I waved with both hands before beginning to speak.

"Hi everyone! I'm Meg Hyssop, your new escort! I'm so happy to be here and to meet all you lovely folks. But first, let's put our hands together for Echo Lin and Haymitch Abernathy!"

The crowd clapped as Echo led Haymitch out onto the stage. Mayor Silviac followed them, a tight smile on his face. He and Echo sat on either side of Haymitch, who was tilting over a little. I forged on.

"So great to see them. And now we have a little video to watch and then we'll get to the actual reaping! Enjoy!" I gestured to the big screens behind me as they came to life, showing the short film depicting our country's history. It was a little dull, and I was certain it got boring after a while, but it was my first time seeing it. But the narrator definitely needed some pep in their step.

When the music ended and the screens turned off, I stepped back up to the microphone podium.

"Let's start with the gentlemen," I said. Then I made my way over to the proper glass bowl, swishing my hips so my skirt would sway and catch the sunlight. It was hand-sewn and I wanted it to be appreciated.

I dipped a deep brown hand into the bowl and swirled it around. One of the slips caught on my magenta nails, so I pulled it out and went back to the podium to unfold it.

"Arawn Giedroyc! Ooh, what a unique name!"

After a moment, a scrawny 18-year-old shuffled out of his roped-off section. His shoulders sagged as he walked and he had a grim but determined expression on his face. His shaggy brown hair was in his eyes and I could see dirt under his fingernails when he brushed it away.

He came to stand silently beside me, looking out at the horizon. I stared at him for a moment before remembering my job and hurrying over to the next bowl. Arawn was the first tribute I ever reaped. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

I selected a slip from the other bowl, still taking my time. But now I was trying to process everything. In about a week, Arawn could be dead. And I knew nothing about him. He could have a family. A partner. A whole life ahead of him. It was a mind-blowing situation to be in. And I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

But the show must go on. I walked back to the podium to read the name aloud.

"Marjoram Donell!"

A small girl with dusky skin and thick black hair came forward. She was dressed in a black blouse and pants and her hair was pinned up. She squeezed her eyes shut but walked determinedly forward, joining Arawn and I on the stage. She held out her hand abruptly, eyes still shut, and Arawn shook it. I took another deep breath before facing the people of District 12.

"District 12, I present to you your tributes: Arawn Giedroyc and Marjoram Donell!"

Hi! Here's our next intro chapter: District 12! I can't believe we're only four more chapters away from being done with the intros! I'm excited to get this story fully underway. Oh, and thank you to TheWatcherofTheVoid for Arawn, LadyCordeliaStuart for Marjoram, and Willuna for Meg. I think Meg will be an interesting escort for this pair. As always, I hope you leave a review and tell me what you thought of these characters!

And it does seem like my updates will fall into the "very quick" category. I'm about halfway done with the District 6 intros. But I'll try to post every other day at a minimum (if it comes to it). I don't want to completely overwhelm people with chapters.

Questions

1) Who did you like better? Arawn or Marjoram?

2) Who will make it farther?

3) If your tribute is going to ally with someone, who would it be? (I'm planning out alliances today and I'm curious)

Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!

- Fiona