Summary: No amount of preparing would have been enough for Ari. Faced with the choice to take on the burden of being this years 70th Hunger Games victor or die trying, Ari is determined to make something of herself and save her sister in the process. No matter what has happened in her past, the man with the sea green eyes will not get in her way.
Chapter 1: Two Stars
My ears are first to register the rhythmic, yet soft gurgling of the waves that the ocean so often provides during the mid-summer mornings. Lapping at the sand, almost crawling up the shore and retreating to the vast horizon from which it came, the fresh salty smell of the water reaches my nose instantly. I am immediately filled with a sense of comfort that only home could bring. As my eyes squeeze shut, to just capture one last moment of calm and sleep I am reminded that today is July 4th. Reaping day. I am no longer able to relax, as dread slowly creeps into every part of my body.
Sighing quietly, my eyes open as I focus my gaze around the room. Opposite of me, I notice my typical companion has already left, bed made neatly with a handmade, bright red, crocheted starfish resting neatly in the center of the bed. I prop myself on my side, first with my elbow and then supported with my arm, I swing my legs over the bed to sit up. Plenty of light is streaming through the window, a gentle breeze causes the curtains to flutter as the window is typically left open at this time of year. It doesn't take me long to stand. I turn and carelessly throw my thin blanket back over my bed, tossing my own blue starfish onto my pillow from the floor that it must have fallen onto last night. I walk two steps to the small, shared table in the center of the room. On it lies my outfit, which I laid out last night. The same one I've worn for two years.
Though no holes or signs of obvious wear are present, I know that this will be my last time wearing this dress. I have no intention of keeping this article of clothing that so easily represents the worst day of the year. It is a light shade of yellow, and has an elegant, yet simple, look. It falls just above my knees, and probably is a tad short for comfort but knowing that this is my last year with it, I do not mind. The fabric is quite breathable, perfect for a humid day. I take off my night shirt and pull on some undergarments to slip on my dress. I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. I am met with the same brown eyes, and wavy brown hair, that I have grown used to seeing both in a mirror and in the form of my twin sister for the last 18 years. Speaking of my sister, I know I will find her somewhere in the house, as she never strays far on this day alone. Slowly walking to the door, I slip on my favorite brown sandals.
When I open the door and begin to make my way to the front of the house, down the hallway, I see that most of my family has likely been up for quite some time. Signs of anxiety are apparent from the freshly swept entry way to my left (we never clean the entry way as the grit of sand is always finding its way into the house), to the stack of books on my right, that have been neatly pushed in line and clearly dusted (nobody has the time to read fairytales anymore. The books have not been touched in years). When I enter the kitchen, a small smile finds its way to my face, it doesn't stay long.
"I see you've been busy Annie."
Without even turning, she laughs, a sound as soft and gentle as wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. She finishes applying the strawberry jam to the bread that she was holding.
"Is that for me too?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
Walking across the room, my sandals quietly smacking against the cold, linoleum floor, I am handed my own slice of bread. I have half of it in my mouth before Annie decides to finally speak.
"You know Ari, it's the same script every year. I get up three hours before you, I make you breakfast, and you drag me on a walk down the beach before we meet mom and pa at the shop." She pauses for a second, to take a nibble from her sugary bite of bread. My hands are sticky from the jam, so I quickly walk to the sink to rinse them off. I always finish my food quickly in the morning.
Hands still wet, I grabbed Annie's, and we make our way out the door to the beach front located several yards from our back door.
"It's our last year." I look out at the rising sun reflecting off the blue of water, before continuing.
"How do you feel about it?"
"I think I'd feel a lot more reassured if it was after the reaping, and we were celebrating with ma's delicious seafood boil. I know you can't resist the crab." I know Annie is teasing me for when we were 12 and I was just so thankful that neither of us had been reaped that I ate everything in sight at dinner, specifically the crab. I hadn't eaten much all week due to the anxiety, so the night ended with me being incredibly sick in the bathroom, Annie at my side with a cold wet towel at my forehead. Annie points to the dock's further up ahead, where the workers are likely pushing into overtime to harvest more creatures and work a few more minutes before the docks shut down for the reaping.
"I know but think. We are so close to starting work. I can't wait to see you following in ma's steps at the shop." Our family owns an apothecary in town that supplies the entirety of District 4's medicine. The shop has been in the family since before anybody could remember, long before the Dark Days. It sells vast amounts of goods to the health center and is always busy no matter the time of year. Annie was starting her official training in the nursery, caring for the plants, shortly after the games.
"And you as a teacher at the Center. Are you ready to influence the young minds of District 4's children? I'm surprised they'll let somebody as careless, and impulsive as you handle such impressionable kiddos."
I give a very drawn-out incredulous laugh. We double back and start making our way off of the shore, and up to the path that will lead into town. Once again Annie is poking fun at me, as I am most definitely the most careful of the two of us. But she does bring up a great point. For months I have been working to be accepted into the teacher training program at the Center. The Aloft Center, just known as the Center, was where the district's brightest, and typically strongest were sent to train for the games, or at the very least, to gain the best education and prepare them for successful jobs post graduating from school and aging out of the games. That is, if they aren't killed prematurely.
I was set to start my training after the games as well. Though I had just aged out of the program, I had spent the past 8 years learning everything that there was to know about survival skills, combat, and so much more. I was incredibly nervous to learn how to teach these areas with my former mentors. Before becoming a full-blown teacher, I would have to take 1 year to train privately, and serve as an intern where I will push myself beyond all limits that I may try to set for myself. Annie never went to the Center. Though clearly clever, and one of the brightest in her year, she was more apt to follow in our parents' footsteps to work at the shop. She had decided long ago to attend the public education that was typically provided to the poorest of the district. Though not nearly as rigorous as the Center, the school that she attended was still quite nice as it was still in District 4.
All of this feels so exciting, but unfortunately, I am not able to keep that bubbly feeling as it is quickly replaced with anxiety. My stomach drops, and the familiar churning returns from earlier. Today was still the reaping, and I could still be chosen as tribute. The Center runs completely differently to the other districts that function with similar schooling. Tributes are not determined prematurely to volunteer, as to leave it to chance for the students. It is still the Hunger Games after all. Where children are sent to die.
I don't even realize that we have been walking in silence, lost in our own minds, until we have reached the all too familiar gray door of the apothecary. Several of our parents, employees, and Annie's future coworkers are hurriedly walking out, likely going to meet their families in the square as well. Many of them wish us good luck, with absent minded nodes as they hurry off, worried about their own underaged children. Last out are our parents. Pa stands so tall, towering over us by what feels like stories. His kind and wrinkled blue eyes meet mine and he winks at me before turning to lock the shop door.
"You girls look lovely. Ari you got some jam on your face, come here." Without even waiting, I am pulled into my ma's arms as she licks her fingers and wipes at the corner of my lip and cheek.
Annie chuckles before adding "Sorry, I was on your other side. Didn't notice." I believe her.
Pulling both of us into a hug my mom rests her head on our shoulders, right between us. Behind her our pa joins, as he wraps his arms around us three. For a moment nobody speaks, and I swear all our heartbeats are one. Or maybe mine is just so loud I can hear it in my ears, beating erratically, so fast I wonder if it'll stop at any second.
"All right stars, head into the square for check in. You'll know where to find us afterwards, we love you both so much." Pa always has the most calming tone, but today it doesn't do the nerves much. Star is the nickname he gave us as children, donned from starfishes from when we used to lay out on the beach for hours together. Sprawled out for the waves to tickle our toes as the tide would rise. Sometimes I swear our parents were scared that we would wash away with the sea. Sometimes I wish we had.
Slowly everyone's arms melt away, and we all turn towards the square. Our parents walk ahead of us and are soon lost in the crowd of parents. Annie and I walked side by side until we reach the line of 18-year-old girls. Peacekeepers are standing at attention, though they are not known to be as violent as I have heard other districts have it, I am nervous in their presence.
When Annie reaches the desk, she quickly gives her name, and reaches out. Her finger is pricked, a nearly indistinguishable drop of blood is taken, just as it always is, and when the screen in front of the attendant flashes green she is ushered to the pen of 18-year-olds. I step forward.
"Ariel Cresta." I say loudly as the sound starts to pick up in the square. The lady before me nods and takes my hand. Her hands are warm, and she is quick and efficient with her motions. When the screen flashes green for me too, I am waved on by the peacekeeper before me. I join Annie in seconds as we stand amongst dozens of other girls, some I recognize from the Center and some I'm sure Annie recognizes from her school as well. The cacophony of noise continues to rise until suddenly the Capital Fanfare erupts over the crowd. Loud, abrasive, and full of brass instruments, the fanfare is meant to instill a sense of pride and patriotism in all of those who hear it, but to most in Panem, it brings immediate dread. We all know what comes after it. The square immediately falls into silence, and those around me still.
Seconds later, imagery of the dark days, and the fallen are displayed as the Treaty of the Treason starts. Every year, I wish I could zone out and ignore this announcement, but the mandatory viewing makes my skin crawl, and I'm pretty sure at this point Annie and I can recite the whole thing word for word. There is a pause. Sounding low and almost animalistic, a voice speaks.
"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public "reaping". These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred into a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as "The Hunger Games.""
The screen goes black, and on-stage steps forward the district escort. A man in an emerald suit walks up to the microphone, his hair bright blue clashing completely with his outfit, and teeth so bright white, I'm pretty sure the sun is reflecting off them and right into my eyes nearly to the back of the square. I don't really know his name, but he has been the same capital escort every year, for all the years I can remember. Lean, and always way too excited to celebrate sending children to slaughter. My eyes wander and I see the other victors on stage. Four men, and one very elderly woman sits in a row slightly off center from the stage. I look at them briefly and force myself to push out the horrific thoughts of all that I know of them out of my mind. I had to study them in school, and especially in the case of our most recent victor, I know what they have done in detail. I force myself to not look at him, a slight twinge of anger ebbs up my neck in the form of a hot, scratchy, red blush, but I stifle it and shake my head. Annie glances at me concerned for only a second before quickly squeezing my hand for reassurance. She continues to hold it though, also needing the strength, I am sure. She thinks I'm anxious for the reaping, which I guess I am.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you know I am Nash Osiris, and I am thrilled to be here in the beautiful District 4 to select the tribute for the 70th Annual Hunger Games. A district that I know will bring us much honor regardless of the outcome this year. As always, ladies first." Nash reaches into the bowl to his left, mixing it theatrically, and reaching to the far side, he pulls a slip of paper and begins to unfold it. Smoothing out the paper with his thumbs, he reads the name in a clear and authoritative voice, and for a moment I think it's mine. Regardless my blood runs cold, and my face goes slack as realization hits me. It's Annie Cresta. My Annie, my sister... one of the brightest stars of the family.
Fun Facts/Lore
Annie and Ari (Ariel) are twins, both 18. Annie attended the Center and plans to be a teacher there. Annie attended public school and plans on working at the family apothecary. The girls are known as the "stars" within their family, a nickname from starfish.
The Aloft Center - is where the district's brightest go to train.
Cresta Apothecary: In the family since before the Dark Days. Supplies medicine to the district and health center. Large and has multiple employees.
The Cresta's: Ma and Pa are currently unnamed. Pa is described as very tall, with wrinkled blue eyes. It is assumed Ma has brown eyes as both girls have brown eyes. Ma is a great cook and makes a mean seafood boil.
Something has happened as Ari refuses to look at the district's newest victor. It even brings a sense of anger to her when she thinks of him. What happened?
Author's Note: Hi all! I hope you've enjoyed. This story is continuously developing but I am ever excited to present to you a mostly cannon with some AU elements of The Hunger Games from my original character, Ari Cresta's POV. I never left my Hunger Games Era but it is nuts that the prequel is coming out on film! I remember reading the original trilogy for the first time as a child. All THG related items are obviously attributed to the queen Suzanne Collins. I plan to update once a week, but you get a special two chapters at the same time as I think building hype at the start of a fic is important.
Please leave a review if you like it!