Hey everyone! I have enough tributes now that I'm comfortable starting the story in earnest. Still missing a few, so if anyone knows anyone who's looking to apply, send them my way.

I write the Reapings two Districts a chapter. As everyone knows, these are pretty big info dumps but I'm trying to trim down on size compared to how I did them in previous stories. Let me know in a review if you feel like it's not enough detail or too long!

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 The Reapings

District 1

Reaping Day

For a district renown for an based upon luxury, it was only fitting that District 1 would have a beautiful sunrise.

Nestled in the mountains – much like the Capitol as many a citizen of District 1 like to brag – the red morning light cut across the mountain tops and spread over the District. Not a cloud could be found in the sky, only shades of red as the sun rose over the horizon.

It was a dawn that signaled a good omen Lana Rose hoped. Not that she believed in that superstitious nonsense. With her past, Lana could only think that the universe was governed by the notion that the strong rule the weak and, failing that, the idea that "shit happens."

But still, such a brilliant dawn on the day of her Reaping could only be a good thing.

From the veranda, Lana heard a knock on her bedroom door. A nervous maid poked her head in and sputtered out that breakfast was ready and quickly removed herself. Lana gave a glance at the clock. Not even 7am and her Aunt had the staff jumpy. Not that such a thing was terribly unusual. Her Aunt loved to torment as Lana know all too well, and staff that was hired from the Salt Bed, the poorest section of District 1, was the best way to insure an obedient staff with a high tolerance for insults who wouldn't squeal or spread rumors of cruelty in the Roes home.

Why Lana, eighteen years old and a trained Tribute put up with it, well… she didn't like to dwell on that. The phantom pain flared up when she did, and in that moment she had to stop herself from touching her jaw and what remained of an ear.

'I'll be done with her soon enough.' Lana thought hopefully. It was her day, she reminded herself, so Lana went to breakfast dressed in her pajamas of a white silk night gown with frills on the edges. She left her bedroom and moved through the halls of her Aunt's manse, feeling light footed with glee and anticipation as she moved, the hem of her night gown swishing side to side above her ankles as she walked. She passed through hallways filled with golden framed photos of her Aunt with the District elite, a peacock's display of wealth and influence she wielded.

But the plum feather of her display she kept in the main foyer; her Aunt pictured with President Snow at his inaugural tour of the Districts. Lana glanced at it, as she and everyone else did, though her eyes rested on the President of Panem instead of her Aunt. He stood next to her, barely gripping her own hand and glaring at the camera with steely, golden eyes. Lana respected the President, and envied his authority.

'I'll have that soon enough. Or at least as slice of it. Something to call my own.'

Her Aunt and sister were already at the breakfast room, located on the outdoor patio. Her Aunt was at the front of the table, while her sister, Amelia, sat near with her back to her. As Lana entered, Amelia turned, a warm smile on her face.

"There you are! I was worried you'd sleep through it!" Amelia teased, rising from her sweet to embrace her sister tightly. At nineteen, her sister was the perfect District 1 girl. Straight blonde hair, blue eyed, with a lithe body and porcelain white skin, Amelia stood in sharp contrast to Lana's curly brown, green eyes, and toned body. Amelia seemed to excel at every thing put before, never a hair out of place. Even at breakfast, Amelia was made up and dressed in the finest for the Reaping as though it was her own.

No wonder her Aunt loved her so much, she demanded perfection and Amelia, by all accounts, was that.

"Not a chance in the world, sister." Lana laughed, before turning to her Aunt. Her greeting to her was cooler. "Good morning, Aunt Katie."

Her aunt didn't bother looking up for her telepad, brand new from District 3 and colored purple with black, obsidian edges. "A night gown for breakfast? I do hope you'll wear something more sensible for the Reaping."

"I will, Aunt Katie." She replied meekly, taking her seat. Her aunt still hadn't bothered to look at her.

"Perhaps the gown I just bought you. If you feel like it isn't beneath you."

"Yes."

"I paid Glamor more than District 12 is worth for your Reaping Dress. You could show some appreciation. Where is it now?"

"My room."

"Your room?"

Lana held back a sigh. "Your guest room."

"Why is it there and not on you?"

Amelia interjected, voice soothing. "I imagine that Lana doesn't want to dirty them now, Aunt Katie."

"Hmm… it's a good point, my dear. Lana is messy." Her aunt remarked, taking a small sip of her orange juice. Thankfully, breakfast came next. Three plates of porcelain, embroidered with swans, were laid before them, each of their contents the same as the next plate: poached egg, two slivers of bacon, a bowl of watermelon and cantelope, and a decorative strawberry, sliced like a flower, surrounded by some sauce Lana couldn't remember the name of.

Lana tensed when she saw the beautiful but light breakfast. This as not her usual breakfast. Her aunt and Amelia always ate little, but as a trained Career, Lana's diet required far more calories than what was before her for her. Allowance couldn't be made ever, even on the day of her Reaping.

And her Aunt knew that.

Yet Lana didn't say anything. Instead, she took her fork and knife and pierced the poached egg, yolk spill out out over her plate and she began to eat her meager breakfast. Out of the corner of her eye, Lana noticed her aunt smirk in victory.

"Is Evelyn joint us for the walk to Victory Square?" Amelia asked, oblivious to the silent battle that was just waged between Aunt and niece.

"She'll meet us at the Training Center. The Mayor wants to walk with Reko and I to the Square." Lana replied.

"That's never happened before, has it?"

Lana shrugged, tearing into a slice of bacon and ignoring the rumble in her stomach. "Mayor's new. He probably just wants to look good for the Capitolites watching."

"Or he feels a patriotic duty." Aunt Katie snapped, "We should all aspire to emulate such behavior."

"I'd saying volunteering is a good way to do that." Lana muttered.

"What was that?"

The air went cold as Lana's aunt tossed down her silverware, the clatter of them against the glass table and cloth the only sound. Lana, feeling herself sweat despite the cool summer morning, looked down at her plate. "Nothing." She said.

"What did you say, girl?" Her Aunt insisted.

"Nothing!"

"Tell me right now!"

Lana's lips were pursed together tightly, but relented. "I said…"

"Oh, so you did say something then? Why were you just lying to me then?"

"I don't think she meant-" Amelia tired, but their Aunt was having none of it.

"She can speak for herself, or she can certainly try." Aunt Katie responded, her critical eyes bearing into Lana. The silence endured, only infuriating her Aunt more. "No? Have nothing to say? Are you a mouse? You're suppose to be our Tribute, Lana, what use is a mouse to District 1? Honestly, they were all fools. Every single one of those idiots at the Training Center. I tried to tell them, but no, they chose you over Amelia. She would have made a far superior tribute than you!"

"That's not true, Aunt Katie." Amelia stated, frowning in disappointment.

Their Aunt didn't hear or, or rather, didn't care to listen. "But for whatever reason, the Academy chose you. A cosmic joke if any. The weakest of our family! Both your parents die in that crash but the universe keeps you! Everyone knows you're only good enough for a life of bending and kneeling. An Outlier at heart! A true disgrace to the Rose name. I swear, as soon as that first canon sounds you'll be on your knees, begging like an Avox to come home."

Perhaps it was the hunger, or her mood from the day, but Lana felt a surge of boldness in her as she responded. "Or, when I'm Victor, I can buy some Avoxes to show you how to properly bow to me."

Even with her training, Lana didn't even have a chance to stop the slap from her Aunt.

Reko Dunas hadn't intended for a procession of well wisher to accompany and parade with him to the Training Center.

Or at least… that's what he had everyone thinking.

The sun was high when Reko set out from his home in the Dye Quarter, dressed in finery provided by the Training Center. The trainers had been cautious when Reko originally presented them with his clothing options, and, "generously", opted to purchase him a higher class of clothing to best represent the wealth of their District. Reko, ever humble and willing to play the part of grateful trainee, could only agree.

As for the crowd that now followed him, cheering his name and wishing him well, well… that was just a matter of a few words into certain ears, pretending at humility, and exploiting the District's willingness to bend over backwards for Tributes and BAM! Reko had a parade to accompany him on his way to the Reaping Ceremony.

Friends, family friends, peers from school and the training center, and other hanger on's – quite a few already drunk in celebration of the day – followed him down the well paved, marble streets of District 1. As they passed, more joined or looked outside to see what the commotion. What they saw was a massed group of men and women of all ages, shouting one name.

Reko!

Reko!

Reko!

And in response Reko would turn, give them a bashful look and a smile, his dark brown eyes gleaming in the morning light of the District. That always got another cheer. As they passed by the Fountain of Victory, a monument to District 1's prior Victors before the 50th Hunger Games, an especially loud cheer went up from the crowd, making Reko laugh with delight.

"Careful, Reko, wouldn't want all this to go to your head, do we?"

Reko flashed the boy next to him a brilliant smile. "And why shouldn't I have a little fun before hand?" He laughed. "Calli! Tell Calix to have some fun!"

Calliope, a classmate, leaned past Reko and gave Calix a smirk. "Calix, don't be a downer."

Calix laughed and gave Reko a playful punch on the arm. "I promise. I'm having fun. Tonight's going to be a party! Wine, women and song as everyone says! Woo!"

Calli and Reko exchanged a bemused look. Someone had been downing drinks a bit too soon. But why not? Calix had been the District's top choice for Tribute this year until Reko beat him out of it. That had been a hell of a fight. Calix was a nice guy but he packed a mean punch and used a war hammer of all weapons that nearly shattered every bone in Reko's body a couple times. Fortunately, Reko had been Calix's friend and sparring buddy for a while and knew exactly where to strike him. Reko put on a bit of a show, but at the end of the day, Calix had fallen and Reko was off to the Hunger Games.

Briefly, Reko wondered if Calix was truly mad about losing the spot. He insisted over and over he wasn't, but Reko couldn't understand why he wouldn't be. Both of them had spent the last eight years training to be a Tribute and eventually a Victor, forcing themselves to become perfect and the best of the District. To suddenly have all that snatched away and find out, after all that, you weren't that special? Reko thought he'd go insane.

He waved away those thoughts though. He had been victorious, and now he was on his way to becoming Victor.

The procession continued and they soon came across a group of drunk men, red faced and laughing and cheering for him.

"Give them, hell, kid!" One shouted.

"Kiss a pretty Capitolite for us, huh, boy!" Another shouted, much to the amusement of the other drunks. Reko, calm as always, gave them a laugh and kept walking.

"Is this really the best that the Training Center can give you?" Calliope wailed, looking his suit over.

"It's more than adequate, Calli." Reko replied, giving her a reproving look.

"Adequate shouldn't be used in any way to describe our District's tributes." She insisted. "I heard that Lana is wearing one of Glamour's best! Of course, when you have Katie Rose as your aunt you can afford those things I guess." There was a hint of sympathy in Calli's voice for Reko and his "poor" family, which Reko pointedly ignored. His family was hardly poor, but certainly weren't as wealthy as Calli's family or, truly, the other families who sent their children to the Training Center. Sure, Reko's mom came from money, but that was before she got pregnant with him by a mysterious suitor she refused to speak about and her family kicked her out. Instead, Reko had to rely on his his good looks, charms, and considerable skill of arms to make it through the Training.

"I'm grateful for anything the District can provide for me." Reko replied, nonchalantly. "Besides, I'll be paying back the debt soon enough. And I'll be able to buy everything in Glamour's shop twice over once I'm Victor."

Calli laughed. "May ten times over! Can you imagine the shopping spree's well go on once you're back? Art, clothes, wine! Oooo, I can't wait!" She squeezed his arm happily, which only warranted an eye roll from Calix.

"It'll be his money, Calli. You know that right?" He asked sharply. Calli pretended not to hear him. The two of them had never gotten on. "Is your mother joining us later?"

For a moment, the confident veneer of Reko slipped, but he quickly regained it. "Yes, she wanted to be here but she's stuck trying to find me a good token to bring into the Games."

"You'd have thought she'd figure that out sooner." Calli said, eyebrows raised.

"It's a family heirloom." Reko laughed, "She's insistent I bring it and is practically demolishing our house to find it." It was an absolutely lie, but both Calix and Calli bought it. And why shouldn't they? They had never met Reko's mother, who very throughly disapproved of her son entering the Games.

But again, Reko wasn't going to think about negative, ugly things right now. It was his day, a culmination of years of training and making himself the best. He wasn't going to let anyone ruin this for him. Instead, he tuned out all the thoughts about his mother and let the cheers of his adoring fans calm him down as they shouted his name.

'And soon, all of Panem will be shouting it too.' He thought with a smile.

District 1's new mayor was fat.

So fat Lana thought darkly it appeared he'd swallowed a cow or two. But he was jovial and red face, most definitely drunk, when Lana arrived for the Reaping parade. A few other higher ups in the government milled about, as did the trainers from the Academy, but the focus would otherwise be on her and her soon to be partner, Reko Dunas. She had a moment of fear as she hoped the red spot from her Aunt's slap wasn't visible, but reminded herself that the mark was covered by a substantial amount of foundation.

'No one can tell.' She thought. 'Not even Evelyn.'

Where was her girlfriend? Lana had hoped to catch her before hand, but Evelyn was taking the tram in from the Diamond Bend, and who knew how backed up that would be today for the Reaping? Every eligible kid from age twelve to eighteen was descending on the Reaping field soon. The Reaping of course would just be a formality. The Mayor would read the Treaty of Trason, the escort would pull the names, her and Reko would volunteer, and by nightfall they'd be in the Capitol for the Tribute Parade.

To her surprise, her soon to be partner arrived with a fanfare. A huge group of people accompanied him, everyone seemingly eager to be near him and let people know they were connected to him somehow. A pang of jealously hit Lana as she thought on that. She had never really mastered the whole "friends" thing, which she knew was incredibly sad. Reko broke off from the group, hugging a friend of his and Calix before joining the Mayor and her. After shaking hands with the Mayor, who's own hand was so large it swallowed Reko's, he approached her.

"Lana." Reko said, smiling as he came up and hugged her. "You look amazing."

"As do you." She replied. He really did, the black suit with rubies encrusted in the shoulder pads complimenting his brown skin and hair nicely. She had always liked Reko and like everyone in the District didn't have a bad thing to say about him. They had sparred together intermittently over the past few years and Lana knew that he'd be a strong contender in the arena.

'You are as well.' She thought.

They set out to the sound of trumpets, the Mayor in front and Reko and Lana on his flanks. Due to his size, they stood a fair distance apart. It was a short walk from the Training Center and the Mayor was eager to milk every moment of it. A crowd of adults waited for them on each side of the street, clapping and celebrating them as they passed. A few even through flower petals at them as Reko waved happily to them and Lana, less comfortably, did so as well. Suddenly, as they grew closer to the Reaping Field, Lana felt herself grow more nervous. Could she really do this? What if her aunt was right and she would fold upon entering the arena? Would anyone actually be rooting for her?!

"WOO! Go Lana, Go!"

It took a moment for Lana to find the voice, though she new it instantly. With Raven black hair, she stood out immediately from the traditional blonde hair crowd of District 1.

"Evelyn!" Lana cried, breaking off from the parade to meet her. She didn't make it though as Evelyn was waving her back towards the parade.

"It's your day, Lana! I'll meet you at the Field!" She cried, smile bright and eyes beaming with love and pride. "Enjoy your parade! And go kick some Outlier ass!"

A few gasps from the scandalized upper elite as such language had Lana laughing and she rejoined the Mayor and Reko, blowing her girlfriend a kiss as they kept moving. A confidence bubbled up in her, and suddenly the world seemed brighter. Perhaps the dawn was a positive sign after all?

'Perhaps I really am meant to win the Games.' She thought brightly. 'Wouldn't that really show Aunt Katie?'

DISTRICT 2

A hapless training dummy stood before him, it's leather hide well worn from use and abuse over many months. The dummy wasn't the first, or even the twelfth, to inhabit the small dojo next to the Devorane family home, but it would be the last one that Valdez Devorane used during his time in District 2.

Hand to hand was his bread and butter of combat, his preferred method of fighting, and today he would need it more than ever. He jabbed at the dummy, his firm and calloused hands smacking at its weak points, his body barely registering the slight pain from bare skin on worn, cracked leather.

Pain will be your friend. Unwelcome, but familiar. You will not fear it.

Valdez picked up the pace, the lessons of the Training Academy worn into his head. He could recite all their mantras, knew all their techniques, he was the perfect tribute, albeit a year short in age of the Academy's preference for volunteers.

He wasn't going to let that stop him today.

An uppercut, followed by a kick sent the dummy reeling back, before popping back up on the weight it balanced on. Valdez dodged and struck again, hard enough to make it fall back and pop up again in a different fashion. He repeated the dodge, but adjusted his area of attack. It was solid practice fighting a dummy, but the enemy tributes in the arena wouldn't be this predictable or defenseless.

Fear will be your servant. Use it against other, never against yourself.

There was plenty to fear, Valdez thought, but he would make sure that the arena and it's Tributes weren't one of them.

He continued his dance, making his body remember over a decade of hand to hand training. Both from the Academy, and from his family's dojo. Though these days, like most would be Tributes, he got most of his training and practice at the Academy. But in his heart, he knew his passion, character, and his very being had been defined by his family's dojo.

Before the Academy, and before the Dojo had begun to decline.

Fear will be your servant… never use it against yourself.

He wouldn't linger on that. His mind was made up. He was volunteering from the Hunger Games. He would fight his way through the other would be hopefuls, boys a year older than him, and claim his spot as Tribute for District 2.

"Wanna fight someone who will fight back?"

Valdez smiled and gave the dummy one last punch. He hit the thing square in the jaw, knocking it back to the ground and off it's weight, preventing it from getting up. A good knock out. Exactly what he hoped for later that day. "You sure you wanna be running your mouth like that, squirt?" Valdez teased.

"You think you can beat me?" The voice said, entering the dojo space. The boy had a joking smile, and soft green eyes that made Valdez's heart melt.

"We both know I can."

"Maybe I brought a knife to a fist…"

"Eeeeh… Maybe if you brought a gun. But it probably still wouldn't matter."

Kaven looked at him in shock. "Why do you say stuff like that?! You can't beat a gun!"

Valdez took a step closer to him. At 6'4" he towered over most people, but especially his 5'9" boyfriend. "Maybe not a gun. But nobody's going to have one of those in the arena."

"You never know. These Gamemakers are tricky. And everyone's saying this new Head Gamemaker is out to prove himself." Kevan said, pulling out a towel. The sweat had drenched his body, and Kaven, gently, wiped him down, enjoying taking care of his boyfriend's muscled body, especially his muscled back. Taking care of Valdez was what he did most days at the Dojo now, along with helping with the upkeep. He'd once been a Tribute hopefully – or at least his Peacekeeper parents wanted him to be and paid Valdez's father a lot of money to make that happen. Kevan never loved it, but he did end up loving his original sparring partner.

Suddenly, Kaven stopped toweling him off and went for a kiss, needing to get on his toes to reach Valdez's lips. Valdez, ever the honorable and considerate guy, leaned down with a smile and met him half way. They shared a deep kiss and broke apart, hearts aflutter.

"You don't have to volunteer." Kevan whispered. "You're seventeen. You're not expected to for a year anyways."

"The Dojo won't make it a year. Neither will my father if he keeps up dealing with those… people." Valdez said.

"My father can help out. All your father has to do is ask. Father made tons of money in District 9 when he was the Head Peacekeeper there!

Valdez shook his head, deeply offended. "No. It wouldn't be right."

Kevan frowned, disappointed but not surprised. This was an old argument now between them. Kevan was the only one in the District who knew the true state of the Dojo's finances besides Valdez and his father. Actually, his father hadn't even bothered to tell him how bad things were. Valdez had found out after coming home from the Academy late and spying members of the Carta, a local gang, dropping money off. It hadn't taken long for Valdez to realize it was the only way his father was keeping his and his late mother's life's work open. But how else could they compete with the Training Academy? Smaller Tribute training operations just couldn't compete, especially after the Mayor and District government had given their full throated approval to the Academy just before the Second Quarter Quell.

Now, the Dojo remained open only through unsavory, criminal means that Valdez couldn't accept. But if the Dojo closed, it would break his father and most likely leave them with nothing. No, less than nothing. Valdez shuddered to even think how much debt his father had put them in with the Carta.

There was only one way to save face, pay off their debts, and protect his father.

And it was to do what he had trained the last seven years for.

"GLORY TO PANEM!"

"GLORY TO PANEM!"

"GLORY!"

"GLORY!"

It was a hot summer day in District 2, the air so thick that heat could be seen simmering off the marble and white concrete roads of its capitol city. But smack dab in the center of it all, amongst the government buildings and squares dedicated to fabled citizens of District 2 gathered a crowd of enraptured citizens, eager for some celebration before the Reapings began. A crowd of about four hundred stood before the steps of the Justice Building, where mere hours later the Reapings would be held, hanging on every word of their Mayor. He stood at the top of the steps, voice resonant enough to be heard even in the back of the crowd, shouting celebrations and triumphs for the Capitol, whipping the crowd into a patriotic frenzy.

And near the front, stood the most reverent of Capitol lovers, which is where Estelle Jackson stood.

"Glory to District 2!" The Mayor shouted, his face red from the heat and the exertion, though his voice didn't falter.

"Glory to District 2!" The crowd screamed back, Estelle among them. A smile formed on her face, her heart racing as she stood with her friends and two younger siblings. Anaya, the older one at fifteen, stood to her right, while Jazmin, thirteen, sat on her shoulders, eager for a view. A few people behind them had complained about losing their view, but one look from Estelle had silenced their complaints, but not their whispers.

That's Estelle Jackson!

Bet she's going to win us the Games this year. My uncle said she's the best the Academy's had in years.

Didn't her mom get the rope?

It was her dad.

He's still alive! They just have him doing hard labor.

Their family always were trouble makers.

Shush! She'll hear!

Estelle heard it all, but it was nothing she hadn't heard hundreds of times over the years. Quite a few of her peers at the Academy and school had tried to make it a point of embarrassment, but Estelle had charmed all of them into being her friends. Those she couldn't left the encounter with quite a few bruises. Thankfully, that sort of behavior was limited to her. Anaya and Jazmin were too young to really remember what happened – or even really remember their parents – but Estelle still remembered when their mother had tried to lie to them and say their father's Peacekeeper duties had him "assigned" to District 6. His duties were so important and so secretive, she had told them, he hadn't even been allowed to say goodbye.

A year or so later, their mother was gone too. Locked up for betraying her fellow Peacekeepers.

'But who knows what really happened?' Estelle thought to herself. It was easier to think about the Capitol, it's glory, and of her own coming bright future.

The Mayor pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his sweaty forehead, raising a heavy bound book in his other hand as he did so. "We all know our histories!" He shouted, extending the hefty tome of Panem's history to the skies. "We all know the Dark Days. There are still many who live in this District who experienced them. They who experienced the horror first hand. Brother against sister! Child against parent! District against District! District against the Capitol!"

A cheer of boos erupted from the crowd. Estelle could feel the vibrations from Jazmin's tiny body as she stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry at the idea of the Dark Days, causing Estelle to giggle and pinch her sister playfully.

"Ten Districts rose up against the Capitol, led by the traitors to the East, District 13! Each of them threw the gifts the Capitol has provided to us in the face! Endangered the very fabric of our society! For years they waged war against the Capitol, claiming freedom from the so called tyranny of the Capitol! But they were all deceived were they not?"

"They were!" Many shouted.

"That's right! They would shackle themselves to the true tyrants! Villains who wished to rule over us and offered nothing in return! Who was it they would enslave themselves too!?"

"District 13!" Estelle shouted, enjoying the visceral hate that erupted in her as she spoke the words.

"District 13!" The Mayor thundered. "They would have led us all into darkness! But not us! Not District 2! Because when the other Districts turned against the Capitol, what did we do? We stood loyal!"

Another cheer as the citizens of District 2 congratulated themselves on their loyalty and character, a character likened to the strength and sturdiness of the mountains that made up District 2,, each of them red and brown in color. As the Mayor spoke those words, the wind blew off them and into the courtyard, causing the flags of Panem hanging from the Justice Building to flap proudly against it. Every so often, the sunlight caught the golden sigil of Panem on them and flashed gold across the courtyard.

The Mayor wasn't done though. "And when the inevitable occurred, when the Capitol stood victorious and District 13 and its rats were scourged from our nation, they turned to rebuild our shattered country! Every brick mended, every belly filled, every need was restored! But remember, the Capitol could not let such an affront go unpunished. Any parent will tell you that sometimes a belt can do more than words of admonishment! So the Capitol, firmly on the side of righteousness, designed the Hunger Games, this yearly event to teach the rebellious Districts a justly and richly deserved lesson! And while Districts have chaffe d beneath it, what has District 2 done? We have risen even higher! Our loyalty to the Capitol has been rewarded time and time over! What District has more Victors then us? What District can claim greater pride and glory in the Games? What District can claim to have more honor than us?!"

"NONE!" The jubilant crowd shouted.

"Just so! For to the Victor goes the spoils! And this year, I have no doubt that once more, District 2 will remain on top, highest amongst the District and highest in the eyes of the Capitol! Glory!"

"Glory!"

"Panem Today! Panem Tomorrow! Panem FOREVER!"

A final, ecstatic cheer from the crowd as the reveled in their District glory. Estelle stood amongst them, completely taken by it all. She had always felt such joy for being part of her District, and knew that joining the Games would mean she'd be a part of something bigger than herself. She would be honoring one of Panem's greatest traditions! Even if she died in the arena, Estelle knew she had done her duty to the Capitola and her District.

'There can be no greater honor!' She thought.

The rally came to an end and the citizens, disciplined by nature as most District 2 was, dispersed in an orderly fashion to allow the crews to come in and set up quickly for the Reaping. Estelle left with her siblings, Jazmin still on her shoulders, though _ stood close by. Both of them had seemed particularly needed this morning. Perhaps they were nervous. On her shoulders, Jazmin began to play with Estelle's hair.

"Don't mess up my hair." Estelle laughed. "Who knows if the stylist in the Capitol can get it as good as Anaya does it."

"I'm sure they can do better." Anaya blushed, ever humble. Estelle, leaned over and hugged her sister, enjoying her last hours for a while with her sisters.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" Jazmin asked.

"Some Games take weeks, some days." Estelle replied. "Do you guys wanna bet?"

Anaya smiled, "I saw three weeks."

"Three weeks?!" Estelle laughed. "I was hoping more for a week."

"What? You think the Games will be that fast?"

"They will be with me in the arena." Estelle said, a wink to her sister.

They continued their walk, the crowd mostly dispersed now. A few stalls had already been set up for the Reaping festival and Anaya, incurable as always, was eager to try out some of the treats they sold. Estelle was eager to indulge her, but they were interrupted by a friend.

"Hey! I didn't expect to see you until the goodbyes!" Estelle said.

Yannis, her mentor and Trainer, gave her a rueful smile. "You should know to expect surprises, my dear. I thought I trained you for that?"

"You trained me for a lot, and all of it's going to help me be Victor."

"I hope so." He said, a hint of sadness in his voice that surprised Estelle. He looked to her siblings with a kind smile and addressed them directly. "Girls, can I have a moment with your sister? I promise it won't be long."

Both girls nodded and Jazmin, now off Estelle's shoulders, went with Anaya to get a pretzel while Yannis pulled his student aside.

"Are you ready?" He asked, tone serious.

"Of course. You know I am."

"I know you are ready for combat. Are you truly ready for the Games though?"

"The Games is combat."

"No, the true Games is pleasing the Capitol."

Estelle frowned. "I don't think anyone doubts my love of the Capitol. I am loyal."

"I'm not talking about loyalty. I'm talking about the showmanship. Making yourself a known quantity and making people like you."

"They'll like my fighting style, you made sure of that."

"The Tributes who win don't just win based on combat. They win because they Capitol loves them. Wants them to win. You need to make sure they love you. Do you understand me? Otherwise, they'll throw you to the mutts."

Estelle smiled. Yannis was old and nearing the end of his life, and after the disappearance of her father and incarceration of mother, had become somewhat a parental figure to her. Not that she needed one. She had been raising her younger siblings for years now and could take care of herself. Clearly, this was one of those moment she needed to remind him.

"The Capitol won't be my concern. It's the other Tributes I'll need to look out for. And I'm more than ready to deal with them." She comforted.

Yannis shook his head sadly. "Oh my dear. Why can't you learn what your parents knew?"

"And what's that?"

"That the Capitol is most dangerous enemy, and the only one that matters."

As the pride of the Capitol and filled with loyal citizens, The Reaping were a solemn, noble occasion for District 2.

Until they weren't.

Estelle had claimed her spot as Tribute without contest. No other girl from the Academy would dare cross her and she had volunteered without incident, receiving the jubilant cheers of the crowd as she ascended the stage and announced herself as District 2's female tribute.

Clearly the boys were set on being more dramatic because as soon as the name was pulled from the Reaping bowl, a chorus of masculine voices shouting "I volunteer!"erupted and then descended into displays weren't terribly unusual, and could be quite fun, but Estelle felt a bit of a edge about her as she watched. Whoever won this brawl would be her partner.

'What if they're an absolute bore?' she thought.

To her absolute shock, the older boys were getting a walloping from a seventeen year old. Valar? Veldar? No, Valdez! Valdez Devorane.

Estelle squinted at him, 'What in the world is he doing?'

Beating the ever living crap out of the older boys, she realized. It was rather shocking to watch her peers get beaten down by someone a year younger than them, but Valdez was clearly the dominant one. A sudden realization hit her when she remembered that his father, Laverne Devorane, ran what had previously been the foremost martial arts studio in District 2. For a while, anyone who wanted to be a serious contender for Tribute had to study there.

'Guess that's why he's so good. And.. that's right! Why he only fights with his fists!'

It was shocking realization, but Estelle knew that at least about Valdez. Personally, she thought it was a stupid idea. Sure, hand to hand against Outliers without training would be fine, but hand to hand against trained and armed Careers? Right now, against trained Careers, he was doing just fine. But give even one of them a weapon? He'd be as dead as an Outlier at the Bloodbath.

Still, it was exciting to watch, and Estelle couldn't help but get excited watching the ferocious she should have let at least one girl try and fight her.

Valdez was only down to one now, the other boys lay around him in a pile of blood and bruises, all moaning in pain. The last boy, nose broken, was still willing to fight, but as he moved into position he tripped over the splayed out leg of a downed would be tribute and fell on his back. To Estelle's surprise, Valdez didn't take advantage of it.

"Get up!" He shouted, loud enough so all could hear. "I want to beat you fair and square."

There were some murmurs of approval from the audience. Estelle kept her face a careful blank. She knew from reputation that Valdez had a thing about "honor" or, more accurate, what he and his father considered honor to be. That was something to keep in mind when dealing with him, especially when they would eventually have to go their separate ways.

That, and the fact that he only ever fought with his fists.

The fight didn't last much longer. Valdez easily dodged the last remaking boy's rather lazy punch and brought him into a chokehold. With a triumphant shout, Valdez bent back and took the boy with him, slamming the last remaining obstacle into the ground and out cold.

A brief silence fell over the crowd.

And then a loud rush of applause and shouts.

District 2 had their male tribute, and Estelle had her partner.

'May the Odds be ever in our favor.'

Next up: Districts 3 & 4

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