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ענפים
a⬩na⬩fim
branches
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Late October, 119
Hestia Fiore fiddles with the strap of her training bag as she waits, alone, in the entryway of Vesta Academy. Even though she just turned eight, she's not allowed to dismiss herself yet; that won't happen until after the Games, when she graduates to the nine-year-old class. Hestia thinks this is silly, especially because her fathers work in the building next door.
Vesta and Vulcan are partner Academies, formed when One's largest conglomerate Academy grew too big and had to be split in half. Trainees begin their career at Vesta, then graduate to Vulcan when drafted by one of its specialty trainers. But even though the Academies share a history, they're still separate buildings with separate protocols, which means Hestia can't go from one to the other by herself. Instead, she has to wait until one of her fathers can find a spare minute to bring her over, meaning she's often one of the last trainees to be picked up.
This is the first time she's ever been the last kid waiting.
Hestia wouldn't mind being the last one left if it meant she could practice more in one of the gyms. But the trainers had all gone home already, so there was nobody to watch her. So instead, she begins pacing back and forth, nothing else to do but to think. And Hestia doesn't really want to think right now, because if she does, she'll think about last night, and she'll get all upset again, and…
Her thoughts about thinking are interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Papa!" she exclaims, bursting through the entryway towards her father.
"Hi, honey," Papa says, reaching out for his daughter's hand. "How was training?"
"Good! We've been doing a lot of… conditioning? Running and pushups and stuff. Not a lot with weapons yet."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Papa's brow furrows. "We'd already been sparring with wooden weapons for at least a year by the time I was your age," he mutters.
Hestia shrugged. "That's what my group is doing at least."
"These Academies have all gone soft now that Snow's eyes are closed more than they're open. If you trained with us…"
Hestia sighs. She's heard her fathers complain so many times that their jobs don't allow them the time to train their own daughter. It's a relief when they reach the entryway to Vulcan Academy; once they go inside, Papa can't say anything bad about his job.
But they don't turn into Vulcan Academy. Instead, Papa leads Hestia straight past the entryway.
"Papa? Where are we going?"
"Straight home."
"Why?"
"Your father and I have some news to share."
Hestia's eyes flutter open. For a moment, she thinks about getting out of bed, until she realizes that the sun isn't peeking through her curtains. She glances at the clock – 12:15AM.
Ugh.
Her fathers always say that when she wakes up in the middle of the night, the best thing to do is to close her eyes really tight and breathe deep until she falls asleep again. So she buries herself under her covers, forces her eyes closed, and takes slow, deep breaths. When she finally opens her eyes again, she swears it's been hours.
She looks at the clock again – 12:18AM.
Dang it.
Maybe I need a drink of water, she thinks, slipping out of bed. But as she opens her door, she hears a pair of voices floating up from downstairs.
"…finally feel like we're settling in," Papa's voice filters up to her.
"We said when we took this job that, even though it's not ideal for us, we could use it as a stepping stone towards something bigger and better. This is bigger and better," follows Father's. "It's an honor."
"Sure, assuming we don't lose all of our standing here in the process. And you can't tell me there's a clear way to get it back."
"Unless we can get a Victor there, Adonis."
"What are the odds of that, Hermes?"
"She'll count there."
"That's still ten years away. And she'll lose all of the resources here."
"We always wanted to be the ones to train her. This is our best chance, our only guaranteed chance."
Hestia's stomach drops. Her fathers can't know that she knows what they're going to tell her, especially because she doesn't like it. The last thing Hestia wants to do is to move! 'Cuz she's not sure where they could be talking about moving to, but she has a feeling they're not talking about a cool district.
And Hestia doesn't want to leave one of the cool districts.
But she knows that it's not up to her. Her fathers know what's best for her – what's best for their family – and if they think that moving is best, they're going to move. So all Hestia can do is sit tall at the dining room table, the biggest smile she can manage plastered on her face, as she waits to learn her fate.
"So Hestia. Papa and I have some big news to share," Father begins. "Do you remember last month when Papa went on a business trip to another district?"
"Yes," Hestia replies tentatively.
"Do you remember where we went?"
"District Seven, right?"
"Correct. Good memory. And do you remember what happened to District Seven in this past year's Games?"
"Didn't they win?"
"That they did. Part of why Papa went on a business trip to Seven is to figure out how they won."
"Well, it was with an ax, wasn't it?"
"Yes. But based on how adept their newest Victor fought with one, we thought there might be something more – and we were right. District Seven has been slowly and quietly beginning its own training program for the Games. And when we visited District Seven, the leader of the program, Ivey Hunterson, was so impressed that we noticed their plan just from watching one Games that she invited us to Seven to be her program's cornerstone trainers.
"I know this is a big change. It is for us, too. We both grew up here just like you did. But out in Seven, we'll be able to put more energy into training you ourselves, so that you can be the best tribute you can be. And then, when you're old enough, there should barely be any competition for you to volunteer! Even more than that, we have the ability to build this new Academy into a true force to be reckoned with. We could make history and be known as the people who changed the Games forever."
"And," Papa chimes in, "if things really go south, there's still a chance we could get you a bid in One when the time comes."
Her fathers look at her expectantly. Hestia knows exactly what they want her to say: that she's excited to make her mark on Panem, even though it could easily make everyone she's ever known hate her. That she knows this is an opportunity that would be foolish to pass up, even though it will mean leaving everyone she's ever known.
That she's grateful to her fathers for giving her this opportunity – even though she knows she doesn't have a choice.
(When has she ever had a choice?)
Hestia takes a deep breath, then opens her eyes wide, forcing them to sparkle as brightly as they can. "I'm excited! It's truly an honor to both represent District One and forge a new legacy for District Seven," she insists.
(Insists to them or insists to herself, Hestia isn't sure. But maybe if she says it enough times, she'll believe it herself.)
Lotte Everest throws her backpack over her shoulder, then takes her spot as the caboose of her class's line. It's still fall, which means that the classes in her age group, the youngest in their school, have to be escorted out to their parents by their teachers. The adults explained that it's to make sure that the parents can find their kids – and that the younger kids don't get trampled by the older ones.
Generally, Lotte thinks this policy is silly. For one thing, she and her peers are not that much smaller than the oldest kids in the school; for another, they all run around together during recess and after school anyway. But today, she actually doesn't mind; in fact, she's thrilled to be in the first class to leave the building. Getting out of school first means that she can find her dad quicker, and then they can go right to the first day of orchestra! Lotte's been looking forward to the first day for weeks.
Problem is, Lotte's not really sure what it means to be in an orchestra.
She knows it has to do with music because she's seen orchestras a few times on TV, on the Capitol channels her dad can pay for since he was born there. Also because she had to pick an instrument to play. But other than that, she doesn't know anything; it's not like there was any way before this to learn about music in Seven.
Maybe that's why her dad insisted that she could pick any instrument she wanted. He says all the time just how guilty he feels that she couldn't be born in the Capitol. Lotte doesn't really understand what he means by that, but she does sort of know that her father gave up a lot to move to Seven to marry her mother. And besides, if he'll give her anything she wants because he feels so guilty, who is Lotte to complain?
So she picked the harp.
But as she rushes through the main doors of the school, directly towards her father, she notices that no instrument case rests by his feet.
"Hi, Daddy!" she exclaims.
"Hi, Lotte bug," replies her father, opening his arms for a hug. "What's that look on your face?"
"I thought we were going right to orchestra rehearsal. Where's my harp?"
His face grows serious, but Lotte swears she sees the corners of his mouth tweak up into a smile. "Your mother and I have something we need to talk to you about."
"But Daaaaad," Lotte whines, magically turning the one syllable into five. "I've been looking forward to this for so looooong!"
"I know, sweet pea." Kavyn takes hold of his daughter's hand and sets off for home. "Your mother and I have been working on what we're going to talk about for a long time, too. We didn't expect anything to happen quite so fast."
"Whyyyyyy? Can't it waiiiiit?"
"It can't, honey. Or we might lose this chance."
Lotte pouts, trudging along begrudgingly a few steps behind her father. This isn't fair! She's supposed to go to orchestra and show off her harp and she's gonna be the coolest because none of the other kids are gonna be able to get a harp and it's the prettiest harp because it's from the Capitol and… and…
It just isn't fair.
Lotte walks so slowly and so petulantly that it takes twice as long as it should for her and her father to make it home. Once they get there, Lotte parks herself in the doorway; of course, being six, it's all too easy for her father to lift her up and carry her to their dining room table. She keeps her body stiff as a board as she's deposited in her seat, a frown on her face and her arms crossed angrily over her chest.
She might have to sit at the table for this family meeting. But Lotte Everest does not have to like it.
"So, Lotte. Your father and I have some big news to share," her mother begins. "We've been working – well, hoping for this, really, for a while. And we know it might be a big change but we think it's going to be what's best for our family."
Lotte can't help but lean a little bit closer to the table as her father continues. "You know that I'm from the Capitol, and your mother was born here, in District Seven. When we decided to get married, the only choice we had was for me to move here from the Capitol. But we always hoped to move to the Capitol, because it's a safer place for you and Garrett to live.
"Well, some time ago, the government made a change that gave people from the Districts permission to move to the Capitol if they could get a visa and if they were sponsored by a citizen already living in the Capitol."
"Like Grandma and Grandpa!"
"Yes, exactly. So your mother and I put in an application as soon as we could. We went through rounds and rounds of interviews and background checks, and this morning, we finally got approved to move to the Capitol."
Lotte's eyes bulge out of their sockets. She can hardly believe her ears. Every night in her six-and-three-quarters years on this earth, her father has put her to bed with a story about the Capitol, painting a picture in Lotte's mind of a glittering, shimmering paradise. It's the kind of place, he repeats every night, where you can be anyone and do anything. "The world is at your fingertips in the Capitol," he's insisted time and time again; "if only you lived there, you could do so much more." And now…
"Are we really gonna live there?" Lotte breathes.
"Yes, really. I know it might be hard to leave-"
Before another word can leave his mouth, Lotte cuts off her father by flinging herself into her lap. "This is the best day ever! When do we go?"
"We're hoping to leave early next week. As long as we can get our stuff packed up on time."
"So let's start now! What are we waiting for?"
Lotte tries to scramble off of her father's lap, but she doesn't make it far before his arms pull her into the tightest hug. "What do you think? Was this worth missing orchestra for?" he asks, planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Absolutely. This is the best day of my life."
Early August, 129
"Got any plans for tonight, Hestia?"
"Not sure," Hestia announces, sliding her knife belt off with one hand as she picks up a washcloth with the other. "I think my fathers wanted to work one one-on-one with me, but I'm not sure if they want to do that right now or once it gets dark."
"They really like the nighttime stuff," Frankie replies.
"Father says it's invaluable to get experience in natural environments. And Papa says that having the forest around us, a 'natural environment in which to train,' is the biggest advantage we get by being in Seven."
"Works really well if the Arena is indoors," scoffs Carmen from across the locker room.
"Well, we do train indoors most of the time," Frankie rebuffs.
"Fair point."
"Anyway, what are your plans, Frankie?" Hestia asks, brightening her tone as she turns her whole body to face her peers.
"Carmen and I have to go pick up our tesserae," Frankie explains, pulling a change of clothes out of her training bag. "After, we might go out to the pond with Maple and Hadas. You're welcome to come if you'd like!"
"I'd be happy to come! If my fathers let me."
She has no interest in going. Hestia sees no reason to waste time she could spend training frolicking around in whatever gross waterhole they like to spend time at; it's times like these where she misses the gorgeous blue pools at One's Academies the most. The fact that she can use her fathers' reputation to camouflage her distaste just makes Hestia's life that much easier.
There is a part of Hestia that misses when her fathers were willing to let her spend time with her peers. For the first few months she spent in Seven, Hestia was given free rein of the training center despite being at least a year younger than those in the youngest class of trainees. "We want you to feel comfortable in Seven," they had explained, "and comfortable with your future training partners. It'll help you train better once you're nine."
And comfortable Hestia became. It didn't take long for her to leverage her status as the newest, prettiest gem in town. She might have traded marble and stone for dirt and trees, but she also traded mediocrity and obscurity for excellence and notoriety. Now, there is nobody in the Academy who does not know the name Hestia Fiore, no trainee who isn't sure that she'll be Seven's first Career Victor.
(What they don't know is that Hestia has no intention of representing District Seven. Her Papa promised that he would do what he could to get her a bid back in One. Not only has her Papa never lied to her, but she knows – somehow – that he was always more connected with the other trainers in One than Father was. It's only a matter of time before Hestia is back where she belongs.)
(Besides. Why put a district on the map that barely even deserves to be there?)
The rest of the time in the locker room passes by in a sickly-sweet haze. Hestia keeps a smile plastered on her face as the other girls babble on about whatever banal gossip is making the rounds, making sure to say goodbye to each of her peers individually as they leave. Once she's alone – finally – she takes a moment to massage her cheeks before leaving the locker room.
God, it hurts so much to pretend to be nice.
Whenever she has to stay after school for training – so, every day nowadays – she meets one of her fathers in the main gym, while the other joins as soon as he can. Today, it's Papa who stands before her, waiting in front of the doors of the training room.
In front of the closed doors of the training room.
"What's going on, Papa?"
"Let's go for a walk," Papa replies, a somber undertone to his voice. "I have something to tell you."
Hestia nods, expecting her father to lead her out the main doors of the Academy, as he usually does when they go for walks. But today, he takes her out a side door instead, the one they use to reach the outdoor training grounds. Hestia follows her father as he leads her to a spot deep in the forest, one that she doubts Father even knows exists.
The girl's heart begins to flutter. If Papa is taking her out, alone, into the forest, she has to imagine they're talking about something that needs to be kept a secret from the rest of the district. And the only thing that she can think of that Papa has ever insisted she keep secret is the prospect of Hestia getting a bid.
Hestia's brow furrows. She thought that both of her fathers would have wanted to be there to see her reaction to receiving a bid. After all the work Father has put into training her, all of the long hours and late nights, he would surely want to celebrate alongside his prodigal daughter. So why did Papa bring her here alone? Did he keep it a secret from Father to surprise him later?
(Or, nags a voice, is she the one from whom Papa is keeping something?)
"So," Papa says with a sigh. "I have some news for you. I just got word back from the committee in One about the prospect of a bid. I told them all about all the hard work and training you've done here in Seven, and about the bar you've set for every other trainee here. I argued that someone who has been the cornerstone of Seven's training program should be more than deserving of a spot back in One."
All true. "And?"
Papa sighs again. "The committee responded that they cannot give an unaffiliated trainee a bid 'on spec,' i.e., without a three-man jury seeing them train. And they don't feel like it's a valid use of resources to send out a full jury to Seven. When I argued that some potential jurors live closer to Seven than One, they rebutted that crossing district borders is not something they could do with any sort of regularity, not without betraying the presence of our program here. They also mentioned that part of the trainee selection process is longitudinal; trainers factor in the growth of each trainee over their time in the system when determining how bids are distributed within their respective conglomerates. Not only that, but to be processed at Central, you'd need to be in One for Reaping Day, and you legally have to be in your district of Residence, i.e., Seven, for the entirety of that day."
Neither of her fathers made any mention of this before Reaping Day happened. "That's a lot of excuses," Hestia scoffs.
"I know," replies Papa. "And it's all bureaucratic stuff, nothing that actually takes into consideration the skills of the trainees that are eligible by birthright to take their rightful place among One's elite. Which got me thinking."
"Yeah?"
"I think they're feeling threatened by a system in Seven that can produce trainees just as strong as those in One. And I think that – even though Father and I were encouraged to take this job – the higher-ups in One could be trying to penalize us for the system we were hand-picked to build."
"And why are you telling me this?" Hestia spits before she can think twice. There's something about her father's tone she can't quite place, an ulterior motive behind his words that Hestia can't come close to discerning. Is he trying to talk her into something? To talk her out of something? To save his own ass?
The scariest part is that Hestia doesn't know which of those options is worst.
"Both because I don't want you to think I didn't try to get you that bid. I did. And because when you go into the Games next year, I don't want you to feel blindsided if there's any animosity from the District One team. We will do everything in our power to prepare you for that, too. Because remember, staying here guarantees you your shot at glory and honor. District One could never promise you that the way we can."
Hestia nods absently, trying to sort through the storm of thoughts raging in her mind. There's anger in there for sure; Hestia can't help but feel a bit set up for her fathers, like her needs were less important than their wants. She never asked to move to this shithole of a district, never wanted to represent a people who are more interested in their trees' appearance than their own. Hestia would still rather be the brightest diamond than the tallest redwood.
But as frustrated as Hestia is, she has to admit that Papa made one good point: she has far better odds of making it into the Arena here than she did in One. Yet believing that her fathers moved her here so that her path to the Arena would be straighter is harder for Hestia than she expected. It's also harder to swallow; she doesn't like the nagging insistence that her fathers chose this path because they never believed she could make it in One.
She knows her Father expects some sort of composed response. Instead, all Hestia can offer is a gentle nod and a look that she's sure betrays her disappointment. Her Papa simply places a hand on her shoulder – one that's not nearly as comforting as he might want it to be – and escorts her back into the training center. As she steps through the doorway, consigned to a fate she never signed up for, a realization cuts through Hestia's thoughts, one fueled by a fire she hasn't felt before.
One way or another, Hestia is going to get out of Seven. She will be a Victor, or she will die trying.
And if that isn't damn good motivation, Hestia Fiore doesn't know what is.
"Got any plans for the weekend, Lotte?"
"Nothing in particular," Lotte admits, shutting her locker. "I'll probably hang out with Erin and Vivian like usual."
"Well, if you want," Lance suggests, "we just got a copy of that new Chainsaw Massacre movie that came out a couple months ago. I'd be happy to have you over tonight!"
Lotte flings her locker door back open, nearly slamming it into Lance's face. "I have to ask my parents but that seems lovely I'll let you know tonight talk to you then!"
"Awesome. Hopefully I'll see you!"
Lotte waits until she can no longer see Lance's feet before closing her locker again. She groans; one of these days she's going to have to tell that boy how she really feels. But that day is not today. And tomorrow probably won't be, either.
She lingers for a moment on Lance's shrinking frame before turning around and walking the other way.
Her father picks Lotte up from school about half the time. If he doesn't, she takes the Everest Studios bus. It was Lotte's idea to buy buses to take kids directly from the middle and high schools in her neighborhood to Everest Studios for free. Not only were they safer than public transportation, making parents feel more comfortable sending their kids alone, but they were also cheaper, freeing up more money for the kids to spend at the park.
When she proposed the idea to her father, he'd marveled at how economically his daughter was thinking, and how committed the teen was to making sure Everest Studios stayed profitable. But why wouldn't she be? The theme park was her birthday present, after all.
"Shock" is nowhere near strong enough a word to describe the emotion Lotte felt the first time she laid eyes on Everest Studios. As her father led her around the park, sharing all the things that he was planning to do with the property, Lotte couldn't help but wonder if she was in a dream. To think he'd been working on this project since before they moved to the Capitol. To think he kept the secret from Lotte for five whole years.
And to think that this place will be hers forever!
It didn't take long for Lotte to start thinking of what else they could add to the park. She quickly realized that, while there were plenty of stands to buy popcorn or pretzels or cotton candy, there was nowhere to get an actual meal. That problem was quickly solved by the addition of a number of cafes and restaurants, one of which quickly became Lotte's favorite: Sweet Treats Street Café.
She pushes the door open, stepping into the cheerful atmosphere of the café, with its cheerful pastel tables and chairs and pretty pink floor. Its walls are decorated to look like a picturesque Capitol street, and lining the whole left side of the restaurant is a bookshelf packed tightly with all sorts of board games.
Or at least, it's usually packed tightly with board games. For some reason, all of the boxes have been removed, and now sit in towering stacks on every surface in the restaurant – including the ordering counter.
"Erin? Vivian?"
"Oh, hi, Lotte!" calls Erin's voice from behind the counter. "How's it going? How was school?"
"Good, good. What's going on in here?"
"We're taking inventory," Vivian chimes in, poking her head around a stack of boxes. "Making sure we have all the pieces to all of our games, numbering them, categorizing them, all that stuff. Organizing it so that we can-"
Sharply, Vivian cuts herself off. Lotte notices a flash of something – perhaps sadness, perhaps knowingness – cross Vivian's face. Concern immediately blooms in her chest, but she does her best to tamp it down. "Sounds… fun?"
"It's what we gotta do," Vivian concedes, her voice wavering just slightly. "Wanna help? We're gonna break to eat in a few minutes anyway."
Admittedly, Lotte would rather play games than count their pieces; having to go through all of her favorite games one by one feels a bit like putting candy in front of a baby and telling them not to eat. She knows helping her friends would be the nice thing to do, but…
"I don't know. Math is not exactly my area of expertise."
Vivian chuckles gently. "I feel that. Well, if you do feel inclined-"
But she's cut off – and Lotte is saved – by another jingling at the door.
"Oh, Lotte! There you are."
"Dad!" Lotte exclaims, whipping around. She rushes to her father and gives him a tight hug, just as she always does. But this time, as she pulls back, she notices new worry lines on his forehead and deep, dark circles under his eyes.
"Hi, gumdrop. Can we take a walk?"
"Sure," Lotte replies, her trepidation finally peeking through. There's clearly something big happening that she doesn't know about, something that's affecting everyone in her park. And Lotte doesn't know if she wants to learn what it is.
Since she moved to the Capitol, her life has been a dream. There's nothing she wants to do less than wake up.
(No matter the cost.)
Lotte and her father say their goodbyes to Vivian and Erin. They walk together in silence until they reach the centerpiece of the park, a large sculpture of an evergreen tree atop a snowy mountain. Lotte sits on a bench directly beneath it, folding her hands onto her lap; her father carefully sits down beside her.
There's a beat. Two. Three. Then her father takes a deep breath.
"Just tell me," Lotte snaps, a little harsher than she means to. "Something's happening, I know it. rip the bandaid off."
Kavyn sighs again. "We have to move back to Seven."
"What?"
"There was an issue with our visa. For some reason, it didn't get renewed, even though I was all but promised that it would be."
"Why? What do you mean?"
Kavyn pauses. His eyes flick back and forth, landing seemingly everywhere except for Lotte's. "It's nothing I can explain," he says finally. "Bureaucracy. Politics. Stuff you don't need to know about."
"But you were born here! Why can't we stay?"
"Because you and your brother and your mom were not." He sighs. "I've been trying to petition because of the success of Everest Studios. But I've gotten no response."
Tears well up in Lotte's eyes. "What's gonna happen to Everest Studios?"
"There's no way to know. I'm hoping to sell it somehow until things are more stable and I can buy it back for you. At least it'll stay open that way. But if not…"
"And there's nothing you can do?"
"I'm sorry, love," Kavyn says sadly. Lotte looks up, expecting to see tears dotting his eyes too – but they're somehow bone dry. And his voice is all too steady as he places a hand on Lotte's back and murmurs, "There's nothing I can do."
Lotte opens her mouth to speak, but no words come. This place was supposed to be hers forever, her beloved birthday present that she put her heart and soul into. How can the very same life that gifted her this place on a silver platter even think to take it away so brutally? It's just not fair! They can't make her leave!
She's no stranger to the fire that ignites inside of her, but this is the strongest she's ever felt it. Nobody is going to separate her from Everest Studios. Nobody can take from her the place that she has poured her all into, that's given her unprecedented fame and popularity amongst her peers. And absolutely nothing is going to stop her from finding a way to get back what she has always deserved.
One way or another, Lotte is going to get out of Seven. She will return to the Capitol, or she will die trying.
And if that isn't damn good motivation, Lotte Everest doesn't know what is.
well I really have no excuse for this one. This chapter has been done for so long and I just haven't managed to get it up. But better late than never, am I right?
Anyway, big thank yous are in order to rising-balloons for Hestia and Platrium for Lottie! This intro will read as familiar to those of you who read the original NGDGU, but it's not quite the same - there's a few changes in both of them to better fit into the larger plot of this new version of my verse! You can treat it like a spot the difference game!
In terms of other updates - I participated once again in Verses' VE this year and got to write my beloved little Vestan! You can check that fic out on my profile now! I also have another project I've been working on that I'm really hoping to have up soon - keep an eye on my profile for that! Once I'm done we're going full throttle into the d6 intros so that we can finally make some progress!
As many of you know, I'm the admin for the SYOT Verses Discord server! We're a large server of OC writers and submitters who like to chat about THG! I've had some links in my previous chapters but we unfortunately had to deactivate them because of some spammers. If you're interested in joining, feel free to DM me here or on Discord at goldie031 for a link! We'd love to have you.
I'll see y'all hopefully sooner rather than later with D6!
xoxo, xxxi