Full Summary:

Laurel Drake was born in District Eight as the illegitimate daughter of a Peacekeeper. She spends her days earning money to help her overworked mother work a little less, playing oblivious to her father's pining, and training in martial arts with her little sister Sara under their Uncle Ted at the local gym. Having learned at a young age to keep her mouth shut like everyone else in Panem, she does her best to ignore the implications.

Oliver Queen is the son of Robert Queen and Moira Queen, two of District One's most famous Victors. Born and bred to be a Victor in his own right, Oliver is great at putting on a fake smile while ignoring the churning in his gut whenever he thinks about entering the arena. His path has been chosen, and much like everyone else in Panem, he knows better than to question it.

Then, the Seventieth Hunger Games rolls around. They're both eighteen years old.

Laurel is reaped. Oliver volunteers.

And Panem will never be the same.

(Or, where Laurel and Oliver are like Katniss and Peeta - except when they aren't.)


Panem: The setting of The Hunger Games, a totalitarian country that sprung up from the ashes of what was once the United States of America. It's divided into twelve (previously thirteen) districts and the Capitol, the capital of the nation where the elites of the country live.

The Capitol: The capital of Panem, where the country's elite reside. Also the location of most of the festivities for the Hunger Games.

Districts: The different areas of the country where the rest of Panem's citizens reside. Each district is dedicated to a different industry which contributes to Panem's overall infrastructure and wealth, most of which go to the Capitol to support the citizens' extravagant lifestyles.

Inner District: Districts 1, 2, and 4. Those districts that are closest to the Capitol, who also receive most of their support and favor as a result. Also where the Career Tributes for the Games are produced.

Outer District: Districts 5-12, plus 3. Districts furthest from the Capitol and their influence and/or have yet to fully and truly submit to their authority. Tend to be the poorest areas in Panem.

The Dark Days: A civil war that erupted between the Districts and the Capitol several decades before the prologue that devastated Panem. It ended after the bombing and destruction of District 13, leading the rest of the Districts to surrender and resubmit to the authority of the Capitol. The Capitol established the Hunger Games as punishment in retaliation for their rebellion.

Treaty of Treason: The official legal document written by the Capitol that established the Hunger Games. It is read out every year at the beginning of the Reaping Ceremony for each district.

The Hunger Games: A gladiatorial death match held annually, where one girl and one boy between the ages of 12 and 18 are chosen to enter the arena and fight to the death, with the winner being granted riches beyond their wildest dreams.

Tribute: A child that is chosen to enter the Hunger Games.

Volunteer: A child who volunteers to be a tribute for the Hunger Games. Volunteers are called for after the initial tribute for the Games is chosen.

Career Tribute: Often shortened to "Career". A tribute that has trained all their life at a specialized academy to enter the arena and fight in the Games. Careers come from the Inner Districts, and they usually form a pack at the beginning of the Games to hunt down the other tributes before splintering and turning on each other to try and win.

Outlier Tribute: Often shortened to "Outlier". A tribute who originates from one of the outer districts and is not a part of the Career Pack.

District Token: A small item that a tribute can carry into the arena for sentimental reasons. Cannot have the capacity to be used as a weapon.

Cornucopia: A large, golden horn-like structure present in the center of the arena of every Hunger Games. It contains weapons and supplies that tributes can use during the Games, with the best items being closer to the mouth of the Cornucopia itself. The tributes are launched into the arena in a circle surrounding the Cornucopia, equidistant to the structure. At the beginning of every Hunger Games, there is a "Cornucopia Bloodbath" where the tributes run to grab as many supplies as they can before separating, fighting over the best ones. Most of the deaths during the Games occur during the Bloodbath.

Muttation(s): Usually called "mutt" for short. Genetically modified animals created by the Capitol and used during the Dark Days for war purposes. Now used as Gamemaker traps in the arena, to hunt down, fight, and occasionally kill tributes.

Gamemakers: The people who plan, facilitate, and manage the Hunger Games. They are led by the Head Gamemaker, who is in charge of the overall vision of each year's Games.

Victor: A former tribute who won their Hunger Games.

Quarter Quell: A version of the Hunger Games that takes place every twenty-five years, where a special "twist" is added to the selection of the tributes. For example, the First Quarter Quell had the tributes voted into the Games by their district, while the Second Quarter Quell had double the number of tributes selected from each district.

The Reaping: The ceremony where the tributes for that year's Hunger Games are chosen. A child chosen during this ceremony is said to be "Reaped".

The Reaping Bowl: A bowl of names where tributes are selected. The number of slips a child has in the bowl is dependent on their age and the amount of tesserae they take out. For example, a twelve-year-old is required to enter their name at least once as the bare minimum, while a sixteen-year-old is required to enter their name at least five times.

Tessera (plural: Tesserae): A year's worth of grain and oil rations that can be obtained in exchange for extra slips into the Reaping Bowl. A prospective tribute is allowed to take out Tesserae for all their direct family members, including themselves, and for each year they do this, the amount of slips is cumulative according to the minimum for their age. For example, a sixteen-year-old from a family of five (including themself) is only required to enter their name five times. However, if they take out tesserae for their family, then they need to enter their name five more times for each family member they take out tesserae for, for a maximum of thirty times. A general formula to calculate tesserae is Tesserae = (Age - 11) * (FamilyMembers + 1).

Mandatory Viewing: A period of time (typically at night, after the workday), where all of the Districts are required to watch the Hunger Games. Typically, recaps of any major moments in the Games that people might've missed while working or attending school are shown during this period.

Peacekeepers: The police force of Panem. Most of the recruits come from the Capitol and District 2.

Victor's Village: A neighborhood of twelve, luxurious mansions, one for each district. The residence of the Victors and their immediate families.


Laurel

"Someone you know might be called up the stage."

Laurel Drake nodded dutifully as her mother brushed down the creases of her dress. The older woman had gotten it for only a coin down at the market; one of the old sewists was retiring, her once-nimble fingers too worn down to the bone to continue weaving any thread, and had been trying to sell as much as her family's old wares as she could to stave off the upcoming hunger. With Sara growing by leaps and bounds daily, Laurel's old things had to be passed down to her, so Dinah Drake jumped at the opportunity to get something new for her eldest child.

"If that happens, try not to react," Dinah instructed carefully. "Don't draw any attention to yourself, no matter what. Don't wave when your Uncle Ted, Miss Sandra, and Mister Alan walk up the stage. If you see your father, don't go to him or try to speak to him. Just keep to yourself. Okay?"

"I understand, Mom."

Dinah smiled, a small, tired thing that always hurt Laurel's heart for some reason. She leaned forward to kiss her daughter's forehead and pull her into a hug. "Be brave," she whispered. "The first one is always the worst, but it'll be over soon. I promise."

The young girl embraced her mother, breathing in the smoky, oily scent that always seemed to stick to Dinah no matter how much she tried to scrape it away. It was a familiar smell that did little to calm Laurel's nerves. Her mother was the most stalwart, stable presence in her life, but Laurel was old enough to know that if her name was picked out of that bowl, there was nothing in the world that Dinah could do to stop it. That was just how the world worked.

She pulled away and went to their couch to put on her shoes, and was quickly joined by Sara. Her little sister had been inconsolable for the past week as Reaping Day closed in, sticking to Laurel's side like glue and acting as if she left for even a second, her older sister would disappear. Despite Laurel's assurances that she was unlikely to be picked, Sara still woke up screaming from nightmares of her entering the Games. "Did you really have to take out tesserae?" she would ask after Laurel managed to get her to calm down. "That makes you more likely to be picked!"

"They only entered my name four times this year, Sara," Laurel assured her. "Some kids in my year alone have two or even three times as many entries."

"But what about next year? The number will double!"

Laurel winced at the reminder but kept the shaky smile she was wearing. "So will theirs, remember? There are a lot of slips in there, Sara-Bear. Chances are I'll never be picked. Mom wasn't, was she?"

Sara sniffed and nodded but was hardly comforted. So Laurel would hold her and sing lullabies until she went back to sleep and tried to ignore her gut churning. Everything she told Sara, objectively, was true. She was only twelve, so her name was only required to be in the Reaping Bowl once. The three extra entries were just for the tesserae, one slip for a single year of grain and oil for each member of her family: herself, Sara, and Mom. Four slips in tens of thousands. The odds were in her favor.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't be chosen. Some kids had never taken out any tesserae, who never needed to, and were still selected as tribute. And then there were the kids who were never chosen, no matter how much the Capitol claimed otherwise. They were rigged into the Games, either because they or someone they knew and cared about had pissed off the Capitol and needed to be taught a lesson. Laurel never intended to do something so stupid, but she couldn't account for the future. All it would take was one little thing, and it would be her head on the chopping block. Either hers or Sara's when she was old enough.

Once they were all dressed, Dinah took both of her daughters' hands and exited their small family home to join the rest of District Eight in the Town Square. Every year, at the beginning of July, the city officials brought out what meager decorations they had to dress the place up for the annual Reaping Ceremony, or "The Reaping," for short. This being District Eight, the textile district, theirs was a little more colorful and elaborate than most of the other outer districts, though still dreadfully drab and boring compared to the Career districts. It perfectly reflected how much they hated this day, much like everyone else.

Laurel hugged her mother and Sara one last time before joining the line at the station for twelve-year-old girls. It was about ten minutes or so before she made it to the table, where the Peacekeeper stationed there, a sour man named Daily, took her blood and made her fingerprint a square next to her name in some book. Once she was registered, he pointed to the side where a line of arrows directed her to the pens where the kids were being gathered. This being her first Reaping, Laurel got to be up in front, something that she, much like everyone in her age group, did not view anywhere close to being the "privilege" that the Capitol made it out to be.

When she got to the pen designated for the twelve-year-old girls, she found several classmates clustered near the side. While Laurel wasn't particularly close with any of them, they all knew each other and would feel sad if one was reaped, making them the closest she had to friends today. She joined them, and a few even told her, "Good luck," a sentiment she returned.

It was another half-hour of waiting for the rest of the district to gather together in the Town Square before the Peacekeepers started instructing them to line up in rows so the Capitol cameras could better view them all. Laurel tried to get as far back as she could in her pen, but since it was in the front, it was far closer to the stage than she'd like. Trying to get her mind off what was to come, Laurel looked around, trying to spot her family. She couldn't see her mom or Sara, so they were likely far off in the crowd, unable to get past the rest of the families who were scared they might be seeing their children for the last time.

Instead, she caught her father's eye, to her surprise. Quentin Lance, dressed in his full Peacekeeper uniform, had managed to snag a position close to the pens for the girls, acting as a barrier between the crowd and their children — the ones that were at risk of being reaped today. He had his back to her, but she'd recognize him anywhere, and when they saw each other, he very briefly lifted his visor. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, probably from drinking, but he managed a small smile for Laurel and mouthed "I love you" to her. Despite herself, Laurel returned the gesture and smiled back, mouthing her love to him as well.

They couldn't risk doing more. And even if they could, the Anthem began playing, which meant it was showtime. Laurel immediately snapped her head forward, trying to put on her most neutral and placid expression possible as she watched the stage. Her mother's instructions were clear — she couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. If she did, it wouldn't end well.

District Eight's mayor, John Altman, exited the Justice Building with four others. Laurel knew three of them very well: District Eight's Victors. Her mother's best friend, Theodore "Ted" Grant, Victor of the Second Quarter Quell — the Hunger Games where there were double the number of tributes. Following him was his protege, the only tribute he ever brought home alive: Sandra Wu-san, Victor of the 54th Hunger Games. And the last in the line, rounding out the group, was their oldest Victor and Ted's mentor, Alan Scott, Victor of the 30th Hunger Games. There had been a fourth Victor, Wesley Dodds, Victor of the 17th Hunger Games, but he had died just last year from natural causes.

The fourth member of the group Laurel only knew of. She was the Capitol Escort for District Eight, Susan Williams. Susan was dressed garishly in some bright yellow-orange getup that hurt Laurel's eyes. Even in District Eight, where the clothing was a little more varied thanks to the number of materials they produced and were allowed to work with, Capitol fashion always turned a few heads, and not for the best. Why couldn't they dress like ordinary people when they showed up here?

As Mayor Altman walked up to the microphone to begin reciting the Treaty of Treason, Laurel chanced another look at her father and was unsurprised to see him glaring toward Uncle Ted. She already knew what was running through his mind, the drunken, angry rants that he constantly spewed whenever he had a little too much to drink, and someone made the mistake of bringing up Laurel's uncle around him. If it hadn't been for him, your Mom and I would've been married, he would snarl. If it hadn't been for him, you'd be living in the Capitol with me—you, your sister, and your mother.

If it hadn't been for him, you wouldn't be at the risk of being reaped.


Unlike most of the district, who only knew the barebones of Ted Grant's story, Laurel had a more intimate look into the district's most prominent Victor. Uncle Ted and her mother had been best friends since childhood, growing up in one of District Eight's poorest neighborhoods. He had been born into a large family who were tangentially involved in some of the seedier parts of the district, mainly those that involved gambling, betting rings, and cock fighting. After his father was crippled in a car accident, Ted, the oldest of all his siblings, entered the ring himself to help support him and his younger siblings.

That served him well when he was reaped for the Second Quarter Quell, only seventeen, with fifty-four slips in the Reaping Bowl. Laurel's mother had described it as one of the worst days of her life, and Dinah had been sure that she'd never see him again. Between forty-seven other tributes, twelve of whom were Careers who had trained all their lives to be in the Games, she was sure Ted would be killed in that arena. He was handsome and robust, but that would only take you so far when you were an outer district tribute with what seemed like the entire world against you.

But against all the odds, the odds that were never in his favor, Ted won. A natural at hand-to-hand combat, particularly boxing, he had used the brief three-day training period that Tributes were allotted to refine his skills. He became popular enough with the Capitol crowd to be given a pair of spiked gloves for a sponsorship gift about three days into the Games. And with those gloves alone, he ripped through the rest of the tributes, including over half of that year's Career Pack, for a kill list eleven names long, the highest since the legendary run of Ra's al Ghul during the last Quarter Quell. He left the arena alive as District Eight's third Victor, the first in over twenty years.

Above all else, Ted came home to District Eight as a hero. Victors (with some exceptions) were always revered by their home districts, but his performance had been particularly inspirational. Accompanied by an entire year of food, treats, and supplies, the prizes the winning district was always gifted with a victory in the Games, and the vast fortune he used to endow his friends and neighbors, he soon became the most popular man in District Eight. Much of that generosity he extended to Dinah and her family, which her mother used to get the more advanced weaving classes that would allow her to claim the position of Head Seamstress of the Gamma Textile Mill many years later.

But more than that, it gave Dinah hope when, against all the advice of her parents and those around her, she met and fell in love with the recently stationed Quentin Lance. It had been a whirlwind romance that saw Dinah pregnant with Laurel within the year before the couple could even think of marriage. The decision made for him, Quentin sought to extend his Capitol citizenship to his burgeoning family, and Ted, thinking his influence would help, endorsed the marriage application himself.

Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case.

The application's acceptance was delayed for several years due to numerous plausible but ultimately meaningless excuses. Laurel had been born without the Capitol citizenship that Quentin so desperately wanted for her, and he hadn't been able to claim her due to preexisting laws limiting the extent of fraternization between the Peacekeepers and District citizens. And then, two years later, Laurel's parents hadn't been careful enough, and her mother was pregnant with Sara when the news came down: the application had been rejected.

Laurel didn't remember much of that time, too young to understand any of it. There had been an argument about "defying the Capitol" and Ted "ruining everything." For a little bit, Uncle Ted hadn't been allowed into their home, but that changed after his family died in a factory accident that Laurel secretly suspected had been no accident at all. Mom and he patched things up very quickly after that. Laurel's father, however, never forgave him for whatever happened, blaming him for the ruination of their family, for making sure that the possibility that Laurel or Sara would be reaped existed.

That was why they lived the way they did. Separate, not a family for all that Quentin Lance was indeed their father. As far as the records showed, Laurel and Sara's father was unknown, so they went by their mother's last name, Drake. The only other way around it would've been for Quentin to give up his Capitol citizenship and Peacekeeper position to become an official District Eight citizen and marry Dinah that way. And while he had been willing to do that initially, any idea of that was killed when the news about Uncle Ted's family (who had been Dinah's family, in their own way) had nearly caused her to miscarry Sara. Combined with new restrictions on the expenditure of a Victor's wealth — if it hadn't been for her father's relatively sizeable paycheck, Laurel wouldn't have a little sister right now. Or a mother, for that matter.

They needed that money to survive, which came before any happiness they might have living together, an acknowledged family. So Quentin Lance stayed away, fulfilling his duties as one of Panem's finest to the best of his ability while spending his free time drinking himself stupid and staring longingly at the happiness he couldn't have, sharing what little stolen moments with them he could. Something made even more difficult by their lack of money. There was only so much he could give them without raising eyebrows, and Uncle Ted wasn't allowed to support them beyond the occasional, extremely extravagant gift.

Dinah's salary as a head seamstress was barely enough to make ends meet, to say nothing of the fact that she came home late every night, bone-dead tired and scarcely aware, not nearly enough to give any greetings to her daughters. Even when she woke up in the morning, she hardly had the energy or time to make them breakfast. Laurel had to learn how to cook at a young age to ensure Sara and her were fed, and even that became more difficult the older they got and the more food they needed. It had been almost a blessing when she reached Reaping age and was old enough to take out tesserae. They wouldn't have been able to survive otherwise.

It wasn't an easy life. There were days when she and Sara had to give up most of their food to their exhausted mother to make sure she'd make it through her next shift because if she died, it was the Community Home for them, and there was nothing Quentin would've been able to do to stop it. Sometimes, they had to work odd jobs to earn enough money to get by. They went to bed tired and half-hungry, wearing threadbare clothes that went weeks without being washed because they had to boil most of the water to drink and prevent dehydration. And on those days, Laurel could understand why her father hated Uncle Ted so much.

But she wasn't stupid, either. Or ungrateful. Uncle Ted was the one who employed them at his gym whenever they needed extra coins. He was the one who visited their house every day, brought them food, and cooked for them when their mother was in the hospital with tuberculosis. When Laurel was five and was being bullied by those mean boys in her Kindergarten class because of her dad, he was the one who started teaching her how to fight. The punch she threw the following day landed her a time-out, but it had been worth it. They left her alone after that.

He might've been the one who prevented her family from being a family, and he might've been why she dreaded having her name pulled out of that bowl, but that didn't mean he didn't care. Uncle Ted repeatedly proved how much he cared for every single day of her life. And for Laurel, where this was the only sort of life she had ever known, that was enough.

It wasn't an easy life. But it was easier than most, at least.


After Mayor Altman finished reading the Treaty of Treason, he gave the floor to Susan. The older woman bounced around the stage for a bit, trying to make a show out of the Reaping for the Capitol people watching at home, and Laurel had to resist the urge to glare at her. Every year, every single year, she was like this, and it was one of the parts that Laurel hated most about the Games. Acting like the annual gladiatorial death match for children was a happy, joyous time, and maybe it was for the Capitol. But for those who lived in the Districts, even the inner ones, it was by far and away the worst time of the year. When it came to the Hunger Games, it was all about just getting through it and getting by until next year. Only the winning district got any respite when it was over.

"And now, let's begin!" Susan chirped after giving her usual prattle. "Ladies first."

She went to the Reaping Bowl for the girls, and Laurel could feel herself tense, an action mirrored by everyone else on her side of the crowd. In a few seconds, one of them would be mounting the stage, only a few hours away from being whisked away to the Capitol and her death. And despite all the odds being in her favor, for that one brief moment, Laurel dreaded the possibility that girl would be her.

Then Susan finally picked out a name from the bowl and announced, "Kate Spencer," in a loud, clear voice, and all the tension left Laurel all at once. She sighed in relief before sadly turning her head with the rest of her pen towards where the fifteen-year-olds stood. One of the older girls with dirty blonde hair tearfully shuffled her way out of the cordoned-off area and was escorted up the stage. Over to the side, Laurel could see Kate's family had already devolved into sobs, devastated.

Susan tried to get Kate to introduce herself to the crowd and make her stand out as a tribute early, but the girl was too broken and afraid to speak. Their escort was disappointed, though she did her best to hide it, and Laurel had to resist the urge to go up there herself and scream at her. Couldn't she see how terrified Kate was? Or maybe she did and didn't care because scared tributes were useless tributes. You didn't get a Victor with a coward, after all.

After she was done with Kate, Susan went to the Reaping Bowl for the boys and jabbed her hand inside, searching for a name. Laurel waited patiently, and sure enough, "Adam Donner" echoed throughout the square, quickly followed by some very loud swearing towards the back of the crowd as a tall, dark-haired eighteen-year-old stomped his way to the Peacekeepers.

Laurel instantly recognized him as one of the older merchant kids who never had to take out tesserae. No wonder he'd been angry — his name couldn't have been in there more than seven times. All the odds were in his favor, but it didn't matter. His name had been picked just before he was going to age out of the Reaping and get to live out the rest of his life. She'd be bitter, too.

The ceremony finally ended after Adam climbed the stage and made his introduction, barely managing to conceal his fury and fear of being Reaped. Susan said some last words, thanking District Eight for providing two fine tributes for this year's Hunger Games and presenting them one last time to the crowd. The two shook hands, then the screens cut out, and the lights dimmed, indicating that the broadcast had ended. Kate and Adam quickly let go and were herded into the Justice Building while everyone else was dismissed.

The crowd dispersed, with the children spared from the Reaping going to join their families. Just before Laurel reunited with hers, she returned to the stage and saw the Victors about to leave. She caught Uncle Ted and Miss Sandra's gaze, Mister Alan having already gone inside with this year's tributes. Looking around, she lifted her hand and chanced a small wave. Uncle Ted smiled at her, tired and worn, while Miss Sandra nodded before following Mister Alan into the Justice Building.

And just like that, Laurel made it through her first Reaping Day.


It wasn't long after the ceremony that Laurel was reunited with her family. Sara sobbed into the skirt of her sister's dress with so much relief that it broke Laurel's heart to see it. Even though the chances of Laurel being picked during her first year at the Reaping were minuscule, that didn't seem to matter to Sara in the end. Laurel imagined she'd feel the same when it was Sara's time to stand with her in that crowd of children. Part of her shuddered at the very thought of it.

Suddenly, their mother touched both their shoulders. The girls looked up and saw Dinah gesturing for them to follow her and a nearby Peacekeeper who was watching them. Quickly recognizing the Peacekeeper as their father, the girls hurried after them, sneaking into a nearby alley that was largely bereft of any bystanders. Once the coast was clear, Quentin all but ripped off his helmet and pulled Laurel into a hug, which the rest of their ramshackle family soon joined.

"One down, six more to go," Quentin grimly announced. Laurel nodded and tried not to think about next year, where there would be eight slips with her name in the bowl. Eight among thousands, but that didn't make it easier.

"Can you visit?" Dinah quietly asked her lover.

"Only for tonight since it's the first day. They're only showing Reaping recaps for Mandatory Viewing, so Nudocerdo is being lax with security," Quentin answered, running a hand through his shorn hair. "After that, I don't know. I might be able to visit for the parade and everything, but once the fighting starts… I guess it depends on how well this year's tributes do in the arena."

Laurel winced at that statement. While technically, all of Panem's districts were required to watch the Games during Mandatory Viewing hours, the mandate was selectively enforced — Panem didn't have enough Peacekeepers to make sure every citizen watched the Games during that brief period. Considering they were supposed to be a perpetual punishment, Laurel was pretty sure they only cared about ensuring the districts watched the bloody bits. That was the only part of the Games that really hit home.

Even so, Laurel couldn't help but brighten at the idea of being able to spend almost a week with her dad at home. One of the few silver linings of the Hunger Games was that Sara and she had their parents around for once. Quentin, due to the pretext of "patrolling" their section of town to ensure things didn't get too rowdy since the more rebellious elements of the district always tended to act up during this time, and Dinah, due to having shorter and less stringent working hours thanks to Mandatory Viewing. Experience had taught the factory overseers that trying to show the Games while people were working only led to accidents that ruined productivity. So that meant the workers were required to be let go by a particular time to watch the "festivities." It also meant they couldn't be worked to death trying to meet insane quotas, so Laurel's mother could actually spend time with them instead of trying to sleep off her exhaustion.

So, despite the occasion, Laurel and Sara had an extra bounce in their step as the family of four crowded into their small living room, surrounding the old, battered holo-projector that their mother inherited from the late Grants after Uncle Ted won the Games and had them moved into Victor's Village with him. Dad had a small beer in hand while Mom set up a platter of tesserae bread and a pitcher of just-boiled water for them to drink on their rickety coffee table. The sisters sat on the floor, braiding each other's hair and nibbling on some day-old crackers they had gotten from one of the bakers. He had passed them out for free to the kids who had survived the Reaping.

Dinah picked up the remote and turned on the holo-projector, quickly changing to the government channel where the Games and everything related to them were broadcasted. They were already showing the recap for the Reaping Ceremony at District One, the escort going through the requisite speech before pulling out the names for District One's "tributes." Unlike District Eight, District One's crowd of children was thrumming with excitement despite the Reaping Bowls being filled to the brim with tens of thousands of slips. Then again, it's not like District One residents had to worry about their children being reaped — there was no reason not to take out tesserae, even for its wealthiest members.

The name for the female tribute was drawn first, and she came up to the stage, visibly excited. She was probably happy to be the talk of her school for the next couple of days. Then the escort called for volunteers, and just like that, there was a mad dash of eighteen-year-old girls scrambling to climb up the stairs and be the first to touch the Reaping Bowl. One of the girls was thrown off the stage and broke her leg, while another tripped over her feet and cracked her jaw on the wood paneling. The race winner, a tall girl with dark brunette hair and lightly tanned skin, had her arm triumphantly raised by the escort and announced herself as Taiana Venediktov, telling everyone to remember it.

As the crowd in the projection cheered, Laurel found herself frowning at the scene along with Sara while Quentin clicked his teeth. "You know, as a kid growing up in the Capitol, I always wondered why only some of the districts cheered for their tributes," he grunted in a sour tone.

His lover glanced at him, mindlessly picking at a biscuit of tesserae bread. "And now?"

The Peacekeeper didn't bother answering. Instead, he shook his head and took a long swig of his beer. Laurel and Sara exchanged looks before turning back to the projector to watch as the male tribute for District One this year, Konstantin Kovar, posed for the crowd. As Taiana and he basked in the roaring applause, the morbid part of Laurel couldn't help but wonder if Kate or Adam would be dying at one of their hands.


Oliver

BRIIIIING!

Oliver Queen, along with several of his classmates, audibly groaned as the warning bell to return to class rang throughout the cafeteria. One of the teachers on duty went to turn off the holo-projector, clapping her hands to get their attention. "Calm down, calm down! You can watch the rest of it during Mandatory Viewing tonight. For now, get to class!"

Grumbling, the students of the Academy of Gems went ahead and did just that. Oliver followed the flow of the crowd and exited the cafeteria to the hall. He tried to wipe away the taste of disappointment of having to miss the beginning of this year's bloodbath by reminding himself of his next class: Combat 101. As an elective that taught students introductory combat skills as part of their physical education requirement in place of a regular gym class, they were sure to show at least some footage of the bloodbath. How else would the students be able to defend themselves if they, theoretically, were to one day have to fight in the Games? That was the entire point of the class, after all.

The Academy of Gems was the premier educational institution of District One, where the district's best, brightest, and (unsurprisingly) wealthiest children attended. But more than that, it was one of the infamous academies that trained its students to be tributes for the Games, the so-called "Murder Highs," as the outer districts liked to call them. Those students on the "Hunger Games track" were given alternative classes for specific requirements in Panem's national curriculum that would allow them to train for the Games during school hours in addition to their regular classes and whatever additional training they decided to undertake in preparation for being a tribute.

Oliver was one of those students, twelve years old and in the youngest year of the track. It was only expected of him — he was the son of Robert Queen, Victor of the 41st Hunger Games, and Moira Dearden, Victor of the 48th Hunger Games. Bred from birth to be a tribute, Oliver's enrollment into the Academy had been guaranteed before he could walk, and it hadn't even been a question of what track he would join. All for one purpose: to stand beside his parents as a Victor one day.

And for all of Oliver's faults, he was never one to disappoint.


During Oliver's last class of the day, Honors English, the teacher issued the assignment that most students had dreaded all year: "The After-Action Report." It was an annual essay given to all students in the Hunger Games track that they were to present one week after the end of that year's Hunger Games. The students were required to pay close attention to the Games as they played out from beginning to end and take as many notes as they could over the performances of the tributes — particularly their own. Then, regardless of who the Victor was, they were to compile a report on everything they believed the District One tributes did correctly, and everything they thought they did wrong and allowed that year's Victor to win. Because the reality was, with twenty-two other tributes in the arena, District One could not win every year as much as they tried to. And even when they did, they still lost because only one tribute could win.

The report's length increased with every year as a student grew older. Oliver and the rest of the twelve-year-olds got the easy end of the stick with a three-page, double-spaced essay. Compared to the full presentation and twelve-point type, single-spaced research papers the eighteen-year-olds had to do, it was practically a vacation. Even so, some of Oliver had been annoyed that he'd have to work during the Games instead of enjoying them like usual. His mother, upon hearing his complaints, told him it was necessary. "Intelligence matters just as much as fighting ability," she sniffed. "We're not those brutes from Two, after all."

And then his father had taken him aside right before his parents' annual trip to the Capitol with the rest of the Victors and this year's tributes and gestured to the train with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. "One day, this will be you," Robert declared. "You'll leave on this train a tribute and come home a Victor. But only if you take your classes seriously and work hard, Oliver."

It was a show of faith that made Oliver puff up with pride. They were both right, of course. Oliver needed to be serious about his training if he wanted his own home in Victor's Village. His name wouldn't win him the Games — his skills and smarts would. So he pushed all his complaints aside and decided he was going to write the best report in his class this year, next year, and the year after that, so everyone knew who District One's next Victor would be.


That was, if only Raisa would let him.

Raisa Federov was their family maid and nanny, who had been with them for as long as Oliver could remember. With their parents being popular and busy Victors, Oliver and his younger sister Thea were often left alone back in District One while Robert and Moira had to attend functions in the Capitol. That was where Raisa came in.

She cooked and cleaned for them without complaint, always waiting for them at their home with a ready batch of cookies. Raisa kissed away all their hurts, helped them with their homework, and more-or-less raised them as if they were her own children. She was the best person ever, and Oliver loved her like a second mother.

But if there was one thing he didn't like about Raisa, it was that she didn't like the Hunger Games. She refused to watch the Games and tried to convince Oliver and Thea not to watch them, too. It was strange, considering who she worked for. As the children of Robert and Moira Queen, the power couple of District One, their entire lives were the Games. But for whatever reason, she couldn't find it in herself to accept it.

"Mr. Oliver, are you sure you do not want to join Miss Thea and me in making cookies?" Raisa pleaded, displaying the mixing bowl where the dough was sitting. "It's chocolate chip!"

"Can't, Raisa," Oliver quickly waved her off, lifting his notebook and pencil for good measure. "Mandatory Viewing is about to start — I need to take notes for my report!"

Raisa cringed upon hearing that, but the doorbell rang before she could do anything. Oliver, being closer, went to answer, and his expression lit up when he saw who it was. "Shado!"

Shado Gulong, the daughter of the Victor of the 45th Hunger Games, Yao Fei Gulong, smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "Hey, Oliver. Mei went out to watch the Games with her boyfriend, so I figured I'd come over. Mind if I watch Mandatory Viewing with you? I figured it'd be more fun with a friend." She lifted her notebook and a bag of pens and pencils for good measure.

Oliver nodded vigorously. "Sure thing. Is it alright, Raisa?" he asked, turning to his nanny eagerly. Raisa stared at them both with a strange look in her eye but then sighed and gave a single nod. Oliver cheered as Shado chuckled and made her way into the house.

They both settled onto the couch in front of the family's state-of-the-art holo-projector, and Oliver couldn't help but glance at Shado, trying not to blush. At seventeen years old and at the top of her class, she was in line to be the female tribute for District One next year. A total ace in all departments, be it combat, interviews, or looks, she was sure to be next year's Victor. Oliver would bet his family's entire fortune on it.

More than that, she was someone he had grown up with practically all his life. Their parents being fellow Victors, they were relatively close friends and lived in the same neighborhood, so Shado and her twin sister Mei were frequently brought over for play dates. As they got older, Shado even babysat him and Thea a few times when Raisa was unavailable for one reason or another. She was so pretty, smart, and cool, and Oliver always loved spending time with her.

As the recaps were about to begin, Raisa set down a plate of fresh cookies on the coffee table, then took Thea by the hand and led her to her room. "Ah, but Raisa!" the three-year-old complained. "I want to watch too!"

"You are too young to stay up this late, Miss Thea," Raisa insisted. "Time to go to bed."

The young girl pouted but didn't argue. Oliver kissed her goodnight and promised to tell her if anything important happened while she was asleep, which seemed to mollify his sister. With that, the two were gone, and Oliver and Shado could focus on watching the projector.

As the screen pulled up an aerial view of the arena (a picturesque valley with a large dam), Oliver couldn't help but frown a little. Shado noticed. "What's wrong?"

"I can't help but wonder how much they're going to cut out for the recaps," he grumbled. "You know how it is — they always cut stuff out."

"Yeah, but they also add stuff in that the initial feeds didn't catch the first time," Shado pointed out. "Honestly, Oliver, the best time to take notes is during Mandatory Viewing. They always show the bloodbath in full, but they edit it so everyone can see all the best moments."

Oliver sighed, conceding to the wisdom of his elders. They watched as the countdown started, only to cringe when an unexpected explosion filled the screen. The girl from Eight had dropped her token, and it had landed on the ground outside it, accidentally triggering the bombs that were planted outside the pedestals to prevent anyone from jumping the gun. The cameras had only gotten a brief look at her horrified face before she literally erupted into pieces and left nothing but a few chunks and a fine red mist. Oliver felt something in his stomach churn, and Shado winced.

"An ignoble death, but at least it was quick," she commented. He couldn't help but agree — as his mother said, a quick death was always the kindest end for most tributes. Ignoring his sudden discomfort, he quickly jotted down a note: Don't bring a district token that can be easily lost.

With that done, he put the death out of his mind as much as possible and tried refocusing on the rest of the Games. The gong sounded, and just like that, it was a rush of violent chaos. Oliver did his best to numb that strange, persistent, uncomfortable feeling as he wrote down his observations, from the boy from Two bashing in the head of the boy from Eleven or the girl from Four spearing two tributes at once. This is just how the Games are played, he reminded himself. Every single person who entered the arena was marked for death, one way or the other — all but one. And this was just the tributes' way of deciding who that would be.

Finally, the bloodbath came to an end. Oliver was just about to set his pen down and close his notebook for a break when he heard sudden shouts from the screen. He blinked as he watched this year's Career Pack pull a small boy — one of the tributes from Three — out of the Cornucopia. He had been hiding among the supplies, likely trying to remain undiscovered or something, until the pack went hunting before taking some of the better supplies and making a run for it. It was an incredibly stupid plan for a tribute from the smartest district, something Oliver quickly jotted down in his notebook.

"Wait, wait," Konstantin announced onscreen before one of his allies could stab the boy. "The rest of the tributes are gone already. Since we are all here, why not have some fun?"

The Careers exchanged looks before grinning as one, and then Taiana brought out her sword. Realizing what was about to happen, Oliver ground his teeth and prepared himself. While the Games were fun for the most part, there were some aspects about them that he didn't enjoy. This was one of them.

He managed to make it through the first few minutes, but when they started flaying the poor boy's stomach, he clenched his eyes closed and looked away, instinctively tucking his face into Shado's side. Thankfully, she didn't call him out on it or anything like that; instead, she patted him on the back in a comforting manner. Oliver kept himself there, using his hands to muffle the sounds of the boy's screams of pain until they finally fell silent. "It's over, Oliver," Shado told him softly. "You can look now."

Trusting her, Oliver pulled away, only catching a single glimpse of the boy's mutilated body before the hovercraft carried it away. Once it was gone, the Careers finally started sorting the supplies they had secured from the Cornucopia. Seeing it caused Oliver to sigh and slump into the couch's cushions while Shado slung an arm around his shoulders.

"I know it was a bit much, but if you intend on becoming a tribute and a Victor, you need to get used to it," she warned him gently. "This is how the Games are played. The Capitol wants blood, so we give them blood."

Oliver swallowed. "Right," he agreed. Part of him nearly blurted out that he didn't want to be a tribute if it involved stuff like that, but he clamped it down immediately. That was just the hysteria talking. It'd get easier when he got older, he was sure.

Shado hummed and quickly picked up one of the cookies, biting into it. "Want to compare notes?"

"Sure," the younger student agreed, grateful for the subject change.

His friend smiled and picked up her notebook, opening the first page. "Alright, so here's what I have…"


The 64th Annual Hunger Games lasted three weeks, one of the longest Hunger Games in the last couple of decades. Neither Taiana nor Konstantin ended up being the Victor, having drowned after the Gamemakers blew up the dam and caused it to collapse—the immense amount of water it was holding back rushed throughout the valley and flooded the area. Having never faced such a scenario in their training, they had never stood a chance.

Ironically, the fisher boy from District Four, the only surviving Career, didn't win either. He was attacked and held underwater until he lost all the oxygen in his lungs by the eventual Victor, Lori Lemaris — the female tribute from District Ten. Oliver already compiled the notes of the errors made there: not learning how to swim in rapid waters or learning any water-based combat techniques. All of which would probably be added to next year's curriculum.

Plotting out and writing his essay was easy with how many notes he managed to take. He had to pare down some stuff so it wouldn't be too long. Once Oliver was done, he had Shado proofread it and then gave it to his father for a final review. Robert hemmed and hawed as he read through the paper before giving it back to his son with an approving nod. "It's spectacular for what's required of you," he judged.

Oliver blinked. "For what's required?" he asked, surprised and a bit hesitant.

"There are a few more things they did wrong that you didn't notice," his father explained before launching into a lecture that Oliver only understood a quarter of. Upon seeing this, Robert stopped himself and sighed. "You'll understand when you're older."

"Okay." He wasn't exactly sure about that.

Robert smiled at him, though it wasn't as joyful as usual. Oliver knew why — Dad was always like this whenever he came home from the Games without a Victor. "I'm sorry about Taiana and Konstantin," he said carefully.

That got him another sigh. "They were promising, but I guess it just wasn't our year," his father lamented. "Maybe next year will be different."

"Especially since Shado will be a tribute next year," Oliver added lightly, though his heart did a weird twist when he thought of Shado entering the Games, along with a strange, dark feeling that he didn't like.

"Indeed!" Robert laughed. "She'll win the race for sure, and before we know it, the Gulongs will have another house for them to live in."

That brightened the mood immediately. Oliver felt all his doubts instantly disappear at the idea of Shado's impending victory. The death of District One's tributes and the torture of that boy from Three all gone in an instant. That was just how the Games were played, after all. Twenty-three died so one could live and enjoy the peace that the Games maintained throughout Panem. It was a small price compared to the alternative, as the Treaty of Treason said.

"By the way, where's Mom?" Oliver asked, frowning. The lack of his mother's presence had been at the back of his mind, but now that he had calmed down a bit, he could focus on it. "Is she still in the Capitol?"

His father froze for a brief moment before giving him a shaky grin. "Yes. Your mother had some business with Head Gamemaker Merlyn that couldn't be avoided. She'll return next week."

If anything, that only caused Oliver's frown to deepen. His mother worked with Head Gamemaker Merlyn a lot, but no matter how often he asked, his parents never told him what they were working on. They said it was some top-secret thing they couldn't talk about.

It's probably some secret Hunger Games thing, he thought, giving a mental shrug. They'll probably tell me when I'm a Victor.


Laurel

Laurel and Sara watched the tracks quietly while waiting patiently for their Uncle Ted. As District Eight had not won the Games this year, barely anyone awaited the returning Victors and the two caskets that carried this year's tributes. The only people here alongside them were Kate and Adam's families and some Peacekeepers to keep guard and act as an escort. One of those Peacekeepers was their father, working in the capacity of his job while secretly keeping an eye on them. Not like anything would happen, though — nobody in the District was dumb enough to try something in one of the few places the Capitol kept a token presence in.

A few minutes later, the train from the Capitol pulled into the station. Once it stopped, the doors to one of the cabins slid open, where a half-dozen or so of Peacekeepers began unloading the caskets. Laurel's expression fell when she saw them. The two funerals had already been scheduled, staggered so any mutual friends between Kate and Adam could attend both. Both were closed-casket ceremonies.

Kate had been the lucky one in the end. Sure, she had been blown to bits, but at least she hadn't suffered for long. Meanwhile, Adam looked like he stood a chance at winning. He scored well enough to impress the Careers and land a spot in this year's pack. He had even reached the Top 8 — before a nasty Gamemaker trap saw him eaten alive by some crocodile mutt. It was not pretty and, unlike Kate's death, was not quick.

Uncle Ted, Miss Sandra, and Mister Alan exited after the caskets, a solemn air hanging around them. They glanced at Laurel and Sara before speaking with the families first. While Kate's family was largely forgiving, waving off their apologies and inviting all three Victors to the funeral, Adam's family was not so gracious. "He could have won!" the dead boy's mother screamed, slapping Uncle Ted across the face. "Why didn't you do more?"

She was about to slap him again, but Miss Sandra caught her arm before she could. There was another heated exchange, and then the family marched off without another word, their son's casket following them along the way. Once they were gone, the sisters approached their uncle and took each of his hands. Despite his red eyes, Ted tried his best to smile for them. "Hey, girls. How've you been?"

Laurel dutifully ignored the question, instead gripping his large hand firmly. "It's okay, Uncle Ted. They might not understand, but we know you did your best."

"Laurel's right, Uncle Ted," Sara added. "It wasn't your fault."

Ted swallowed and nodded, seemingly not sure whether or not to believe them. But Laurel knew it was the truth. She knew all of the Victors would've done everything they could to bring their tributes home. They always did. But in the end, there was only so much they could do since they couldn't be in the arena with those kids. Beyond giving the tributes advice before they entered the arena and sending the occasional sponsorship gift, it was all up to Adam to win. Adam, and the will of the Gamemakers.

After watching the Hunger Games for over a decade, Laurel understood how they worked. And the most essential thing about the Games was that often, more than not, it wasn't the smartest, strongest, or even luckiest tribute that won. It was the most interesting one, the one that caught the attention of the Capitol and made the people who lived there fall in love with them. Because the most exciting tribute was the one they wanted to keep around and keep entertaining them even long after their time in the Games was over. They had to show some capability to maintain that interest, but in the end, if the Capitol wanted them to win, they'd ensure it.

This year's Victor was proof enough of that. Lori Lemaris had been a pretty little thing, with an extremely flattering costume for an outlying district and a decent training score of eight. Combined with her wit and easygoing charm, she'd be an instant hit with the Capitol, a real favorite. After that, she was almost guaranteed to make it to at least the Top 4 if she passed the bloodbath. That was just how these things worked.

By comparison, Adam had been dull. His attempt at charm had come off as smarmy instead, and the boys from Two and Four had completely overshadowed his passable good looks. Other than his high training score of nine, he hadn't been anything to write home about, so Laurel couldn't bring herself to be too surprised when he'd been the first of the Top 8 to die. For all they knew, the Gamemakers might've even deliberately set that mutt on Adam to make sure he couldn't be a threat to Lori and the other favorites and to give another entertaining death to the Capitol audiences. She wouldn't have put it past them, not after all the veiled comments she'd heard from Uncle Ted and Miss Sandra and even Dad over the years.

In the end, that was just how the Games worked. They shouldn't expect anything less.


Mister Alan had to stay behind to finish some last-minute business involving the Games, and Dad couldn't follow because he was on duty. So it ended up being only Laurel and Sara who joined Uncle Ted and Miss Sandra on their return trip to Uncle Ted's gym. They used Miss Sandra's car to go there, as she made sure to have it parked near the station and watched by the Peacekeepers to ensure no vandals got to it while she was in the Capitol. Unlike the usual way he conducted business, Captain Nudocerdo complied with her wishes. Everyone knew it was a dumb thing to make Miss Sandra angry.

Uncle Ted's gym was located on the edge between one of the nicer parts of the district and the poor neighborhood where Laurel and Sara lived. While many restrictions had been made on how a Victor spent their fortune, the one freedom they kept was the ability to establish a business. Uncle Ted opened his gym not long after Sara had been born as his way of giving back to the community and keeping his mind off the recent loss of his family. It was a place where the Peacekeepers and the better-off residents of the district could go to be active and keep in shape, a luxury that those not in perpetual poverty could afford.

The Drake sisters were the exception to that rule. As far as they could remember, they had been going to the Wildcat Gym after school to stay with Uncle Ted while they dutifully waited for their mother to return from her ever-growing shifts at the textile mill to pick them up. Eventually, they had grown so long that Uncle Ted had taken to taking them home himself when it got too dark outside.

Wildcat Gym was like a second home to them. On top of the occasional work they did for Uncle Ted to earn some coin, it was there that Uncle Ted trained them in self-defense. He started with Laurel after encountering those bullies in Kindergarten and later included Sara after she started attending school so she wouldn't feel left out. While neither of the girls was particularly violent, they enjoyed the lessons immensely and considered it their favorite pastime. The only caveat was that they had to keep most of their training a secret, for whatever reason, so the lessons were usually conducted outside of the view of others.

"So," Uncle Ted said with a clap of his hands once they were inside. The gym was still publicly closed and would remain so for the rest of the week, so the Victors had time to emotionally recover from the fallout of the Games. That meant only the sisters, Ted and Miss Sandra, were inside. "Did you practice your katas like I told you to?"

Both sisters nodded.

"Alright. Show me. Sara, you go first."

Sara stepped forward, took a deep breath, and started showing the moves she had been painstakingly practicing for the past three weeks. Ted oversaw her the entire time and nodded appreciatively when she was done. "Well done. Laurel?"

As her sister stepped back, Laurel stepped forward and inhaled deeply. Being older and more experienced, her katas were more advanced than Sara's, and consequently, she had spent a lot of time practicing them to make sure they were perfect. But it had been worth it in the end when she saw that proud smile on Uncle Ted's face.

"Good, good," he said before directing his attention towards Laurel. "Laurel, honey, you've just about finished everything I can teach you. So from now on, you're going to train with Miss Sandra. I'll just be focusing on Sara from now on."

Laurel blinked and glanced at the other Victor, who had been standing beside her former mentor, watching both girls quietly. It wasn't like this was the first time she or Sara had trained with Miss Sandra. The older woman often partook in their training and showed them some moves or helped improve their technique whenever she visited the gym. The thing was, Miss Sandra didn't visit the gym often. She was one of the few Victors who took advantage of their privilege of being allowed to travel all of Panem freely.

But if Uncle Ted was delegating Laurel's training to her, then… "Please take care of me," the young girl said, bowing respectfully to her new teacher. It was a gesture that Uncle Ted had taught her when she was younger to honor and greet older people who were about to take you into their care.

Miss Sandra arched an eyebrow. "I shall do my best," she replied, "but know I will not be an easy master."

Laurel raised her head and looked at her straight in the eye. "Then I'll do my best to be an attentive and dedicated student," was her answer. It was the truth. If there was anything Laurel knew, it was that you needed every advantage you could get to survive in Panem. She didn't know why Uncle Ted insisted Sara, and she learned all these advanced fighting skills, but if he felt they needed it, she would do her best to learn them — no matter what it took.

That caused Miss Sandra to smirk. "Well met, Little Bird." She turned, heading towards one of the private training rooms. "Come. We'll begin now."

The young girl nodded and followed.


Well, here it is — the monster I spent most of NaNoWriMo working on. A Hunger Games crossover with DC/Arrowverse, with Laurel and Oliver starring as Katniss and Peeta. Many thanks to Kylia for betaing this.

Please note that this will stay grounded, trying to stay true to the spirit of the Hunger Games franchise while simultaneously trying to recontextualize several DC/Arrowverse characters and elements in its setting. So don't expect aliens, Atlanteans, metahuman abilities, or anything of that sort.

For example, please look at the characters of Laurel and Oliver and their families and how different they are from canon. Laurel's family lives in relative poverty and isn't living as a family, but they are closer to each other and more well-adjusted as a result. And, of course, Laurel still has a strong sense of justice.

By contrast, Oliver's family is as wealthy as ever and seemingly perfect. However, Oliver is still suffering under the weight of his parents' expectations, and they still have plenty of dark secrets being kept. Secrets that are going to haunt Oliver when he's older.

For those unfamiliar with the Hunger Games, I've included a glossary at the beginning of this chapter of the most common terms used. Please tell me if you want any more terms defined, and I will edit the glossary periodically to add them.

This story will be updated weekly, likely around Sunday/Monday. A TV Tropes page will published soon for those of you who enjoy working on those.

Next Chapter: The 70th Hunger Games