A/N: You might want to grab some tissues for this chapter. This is your fair warning.

Tales knocked on the door of Tyler Ranthon's office. She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand and smiled.

"Come in," Tyler called from inside.

Tales breezed in and sat down in one of the mahogany chairs without waiting for an invitation. "I would like to propose a twist to the Games that will make it far more interesting for both the audience and the tributes." She presented him with the piece of paper.

Tyler looked it over and stroked his chin. "I don't know…"

"Everyone expects this alteration, in every single installment of the Hunger Games," Tales protested. "It's part of what makes rooting for their favorite characters so fun! It gives them a little more hope."

The part about hope was what finally convinced Tyler Ranthon.

The boom of a cannon startled Esmeralda and Pierre from their activities. "Who is it this time?" Esmeralda wondered. Then the snow that had covered the ground for the last five days began to rapidly dissolve. The chill went out of the air, and the sun broke through the clouds. "It can't be!" she exclaimed. "It must have been Elsa! Why else would the deep freeze end so suddenly?"

"I guess we'll know for sure when we see the fallen tributes in the sky tonight," Pierre said. The low rumble of an approaching hovercraft was almost a welcome sound after the constant shrieking of the winter wind.

After putting on their clothes, Esmeralda and Pierre sat together admiring their changed surroundings. "It's beautiful!" Pierre said. "The grass, the trees, the flowers! I never thought I'd miss seeing the color green so much!"

Esmeralda leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's like seeing a rebirth of nature. Isn't it fitting that the return of summer came at the same time as when we finally grew to love each other?" She turned her eyes to meet his. "I love you, Pierre. I know I must have made you suffer all that time since our marriage, not letting you be a proper husband to me. But since we were thrown into these Games, my outlook has changed. We used to barely even be friends, but now I'm proud to be your wife. I love you. I just want to keep saying that, like it will make up for all the times I didn't."

Pierre tucked a raven lock behind her ear. "I love you too, Esme." Placing a hand behind her head, he kissed her. Esmeralda returned it with all the passion she could muster, eyes closed, arms tightly around him. In that one moment, everything was perfect.

Until Esmeralda suddenly opened her eyes wide and fell forward, Pierre going down with her. As his back hit the ground, he tightened his hold on Esmeralda to steady her, and his hand found the handle of a knife stuck in her back. He looked over her head to see a petite brunette girl running towards them, another knife in hand.

Pierre scrambled to his feet as fast as he could, taking Esmeralda in his arms. She tried to resist. "Leave me," she muttered.

"No!" Pierre shook his head vehemently as he ran with all his speed, carrying her. "I won't desert you now!"

But it was too painful for Esmeralda to be carried like that. She tried to keep down her moans of pain, but to no avail. Pierre stopped to hide her in a bush. He laid her gently on her side and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Esmeralda! I'm so sorry!"

She tenderly touched his cheek. "Run," she whispered. Then her eyes closed, and a cannon fired.

Tears filled Pierre's eyes. He kissed her one last time and then ran, as she had asked, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to stay with her. But the hovercraft needed to collect her body, and it wouldn't come if he was near.

Eventually it hovered over the bush and extended its claw to retrieve Esmeralda's body. As a final desperate show of his love for his wife, Pierre took his flat right hand with his fingers spread out and rubbed it in an upward motion against his chest. He turned around and walked away as the hovercraft flew out of sight.

He had left their backpack and sleeping bag at the campsite. He couldn't go back there. It was too soon after Esmeralda's death, and besides, Clove might still be hunting for him. He went without food, but he didn't mind. He was grieving too much to be hungry.

That night, he made a bed out of pine needles. There was a lump in his throat as he was reminded of the first day in the arena, when he and Esmeralda made beds out of branches and covered them with soft pine needles.

Trumpets blared, and Pierre looked up. "Attention tributes," came the voice of Claudius Templesmith. "The regulations requiring a single victor have been suspended. From now on, two tributes may be crowned the winners if they originate from the same fandom. This will be the only announcement. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Pierre sat as if frozen. Then he screamed. He punched the ground over and over until his knuckles were bruised and bloodied. Anguish overtook him. This was bad timing if he ever heard of it. Losing Esmeralda had been heartbreaking; this announcement was rubbing salt in his wounds.

Steel-faced, he got up off the ground and started walking in the direction of his previous campsite. He knew Clove would be somewhere nearby; he would find her and take his revenge.

Pierre waited until Cato and Clove's fire had died down. When it was a mere pile of smoldering ashes, he closed in. He surmised that it was past midnight already. Despite the darkness, a full moon was shining, and he could clearly see Cato and Clove sleeping next to each other. He didn't know if he could attack Clove without waking Cato up.

Then Clove rolled away from Cato a little bit. She was no longer touching him. Here was Pierre's chance. He crept towards the sleeping girl, making no noise. He got down on the ground next to her, positioned himself so that he had one knee on either side of her body, and wrapped both his hands around her throat. He squeezed with all his strength, his facial expression growing more insidious with each passing second. Clove's eyes flew open, and she tried to fight him off, but as her air was being cut off, it was ineffective. Her face was turning blue. Her lips formed Cato's name, but Pierre clenched even harder. "Oeil pour oeil," he hissed.

Cato stirred in his sleep, and his arm moved around in search of Clove. When he only found empty space next to him, he sat up in a flash. He saw Clove imperiled, and kicked Pierre in the chest, throwing him back so hard that he hit the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. Cato grabbed his spear and drove it through Pierre's chest with such force that the spearhead was embedded in the earth underneath the poet. A cannon went off immediately.

The blond boy took one look at Clove, who was still lying on the ground gasping for breath, knelt down, and scooped her up in his arms. "Clove! Are you okay?"

"I'll be…alright," she managed.

Cato let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Thank God! I thought I'd lost you again!" He thought about another time Clove had been lying on the ground, close to death, but that time he had been too late. "I'm sorry I almost let this happen again." He unconsciously started rubbing Clove's back. "We'll reach the end together this time. I promise."

Flashback

As Claudius Templesmith's voice faded away, Clove launched herself at Cato—-not in anger this time, but in elation. "Are you getting some serious déjà vu right now? Because I am! We have a second chance to be champions together!"

Once again, Cato didn't mind that Clove was on top of him. "I'll always be there for you, Clove!"

Clove scoffed. "Dude, that sounds romantic!"

"I just mean I'm not going to mess up like last time," Cato amended. "No splitting up this time, no matter what." If he was honest with himself, he really did like Clove. He didn't know what he would do without her. He would have nobody to bicker with if she was gone.

A/N: It would have ruined the mood to include Cato and Clove's talking about the rule change while Pierre was still grieving, so I made it a flashback instead.

translations

Oeil pour oeil: An eye for an eye.

Game notes

Day 11: Elsa dies of infection. The deep freeze ends. Esmeralda tells Pierre that she loves him. Clove finds them and throws a knife at Esmeralda. Esmeralda tells Pierre to run. That night, the rule change is announced.

Midnight on Day 12: Pierre sneaks into Clove and Cato's camp and tries to strangle Clove in her sleep. Cato wakes up in time and kills Pierre.