Vetiver Brune, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games
The last time Vetiver was on a train, he thought it would be his last.
He certainly never expected to be returning home a Victor.
From the moment the train doors closed behind him, he could breathe. It may have been the first real breath he's taken since the arena.
(If he's being honest with himself, since before then, even.)
Ellis tells him it will only take a day for him to get home. By tomorrow morning, he'll be with his dad.
He can hardly believe it.
In the meantime, he sits with Ellis in the main compartment of the train. He snacks on fruit and listens to Ellis talk about what he should expect when he gets home. Vetiver pretends to listen, but he struggles. Life in Victor's Village, wealth beyond his imagination, none of it interests him.
As long as his dad is safe. That's all he cares about.
One phrase snaps Vetiver back into reality, the harsh reality that is his new life.
"Victory tour."
Vetiver's face must go pale because Ellis' tone shifts to one Vet is quite used to. A less threatening one, as if the old man can be anything close to threatening.
"Hey, don't overthink it. It's not for many months, and we'll…we'll have time to prepare."
His words do nothing to calm Vet, but he nods and tries to breathe again.
This, he does remember. He remembers being forced to the square as a Victor from not Ten stood on stage and talked about what great fighters the kids from Ten were. It doesn't matter if the kids died in the bloodbath or the final eight. It doesn't matter if the Victor on stage took those lives themselves or not. It was the same every year.
Vetiver never enjoyed seeing the families elevated around the crowd. Their sullen faces, tear stained cheeks were always so hard to look at.
Now he'll have to look at twenty-three families.
He'll have to look at Oswaldo's family.
At Roman's.
At Exa's.
He doesn't even know who Chaffinch had, but they'll find someone.
They'll find someone for Vetiver to stare at and speak to why does he have to give so many speeches-
"You're overthinking it again," Ellis whispers.
"What else am I supposed to think about?" Vetiver asks with a sigh way older than he is.
"Think about your dad. You get to see him soon. Don't you have pets? Think about them." Ellis smiles.
Vetiver tries. He tries to think about home. It does fill him with…joy.
It also reminds him about what he's done. The lives he's taken. He knows…he knows there's nothing that would ever stand in between them.
(But…killing someone…his dad will see him as a murderer.
Is that not all he is? Is that not what he's become?
Hasn't it always been a part of him, killing for the Capitol? Did badger hunting not utterly prepare him for…)
"Stop overthinking," Ellis says, pushing a plate of small desserts in his face.
Vetiver takes one. He eats it slowly, thankful for the distraction.
Thankful for Ellis.
He may, may just get through this with Ellis beside him.
Home is louder than he remembers.
As the train pulls into the station, it's immediately met with cheering and crowds and he definitely doesn't recognize anyone in those crowds.
He sees the cameras though. It's hard to miss the camera people with bright pink hair.
"Ignore them all. Your dad should be close to the train platform." How many times has Ellis reiterated the same sentiment?
Countless. It doesn't matter. It won't calm Vetiver.
He breathes. He's gotten better at that, at least.
As he hears the mechanical whirl of the train doors preparing to open, he once again forgets how to breathe. What a silly thing to forget, but at the moment, nothing is scarier.
(Seeing all those people cheer and rush at him ignites the flight in him.
The fight.
He's left the arena, but the arena hasn't left him.)
Through the cheering and indistinguishable noises, he locks onto one voice.
"Vetiver," he says. It's so quiet Vet doesn't know how he hears it.
He just knows he does hear it and nothing is more important than finding where it came from.
It's not hard to find him. He's near the platform, just like Ellis said he would be.
He looks the same as Vetiver remembers. Barely kept hair and dirty paw prints decorating the bottoms of his pants.
They don't need to exchange words or pleasantries. They've never had to. At that moment, all Vetiver wants is for his dad to hug him, to hold Vet in his arms, and reassure him that everything will be okay.
(The last time he did that, Vetiver was only a child. Despite everything he's been through, despite everything he's done, that's the one thing he craves.)
His father opens his arms for Vet and Vet falls into them. For a moment, just a moment, it makes him numb to everything else.
What Vetiver would give to freeze this feeling.
(Doesn't he deserve it? Hasn't he given enough?)
They finally let Vetiver leave the square. It's a lot later than he hoped, but it's okay. It's okay because he's going home.
The walk to the Brune residence is long. Once the paved road vanishes into dirt, the last of the reporters disperse. Ellis tells him they'll want him moved into Victor's Village before the end of the week, but even he takes his leave.
Ellis understands better than anyone how important this time is. How desperately Vetiver needs a moment of normalcy before it all falls apart again.
If anyone is still following them, the silence would confuse them, if not totally unsettle them. Vetiver and Jonquil don't exchange a single word for most of the walk, and Vetiver doesn't feel a need to. He's okay, he's safe, and he's happy.
(Speaking could shatter everything. Having to explain his actions may kill him faster than a blade. He can't risk that, not when he's this desperate to just be a son again.)
Eventually, it's Jon who breaks that silence.
"Skipper gave birth."
A wave of excitement and guilt wash over the boy. Jon must see the fear in his eyes, because he quickly adds, "She's great. All the puppies are great."
Vetiver takes it in. He's glad - he's ecstatic. The first litter born that won't be forced into a life of work. The first litter to grow up in the house in Victor's Village. He doesn't bother to wonder if dogs are even allowed in those houses.
A life of freedom for his smallest friends.
Vetiver doesn't know what else to say to his dad, so he doesn't say anything. Jonquil doesn't either. The news about Skipper fills them both with enough joy.
When the treeline breaks and Vetiver sees his home, something inside him stirs. The same house that has stood up tall since he was born, that knows him inside and out, that should feel welcoming and normal to him, instead only fills him with a sense of dread.
Sometimes, when he returned after a failed hunt with nothing to show for days worth of efforts, Vetiver would get this same feeling. This time, this time it's worse than ever.
(He's returning as a murderer. He's returning as a failure.)
Seeing his pups frolic around the inside of the fence line pushes away those insecurities, at least for a second. At least until Sherwood notices him, he starts barking. It alerts the rest of the dogs to his presence.
For a few blissful seconds, Vetiver is ecstatic. Elated. He wants to lie down and let them crawl over him. He wants to be surrounded by his family without a care in the world.
He still hasn't quite learned that as Victor, he rarely gets what he wants.
Before he can get closer, he realizes the barking isn't stopping. It gets louder and more aggressive and all the dogs are telling Vetiver to stop approaching. One of them, maybe Maverick, starts growling, and soon enough everyone is growling and barking and spitting and Vetiver can't get closer to the house without feeling worse and worse.
They don't recognize me. I don't recognize me. They know what I've done. I know-
Vetiver looks at his dad and it's rare for Jonquil to look this unsure about their pack. Jonquil gestures for Vetiver to wait and he walks forward, speaking softly to the animals like he's done so many times before.
The barking doesn't stop. The growling only gets worse.
(If he doesn't have his pack, what does he have?
He's lost everything. He's ruined everything. Why did he have to kill? Why did he have to win?)
A movement separated from the barking and the growling catches Vetiver's attention. At this point, he needs something to grab onto to separate himself from…from this.
He gets it. He watches Skipper slowly approach. Sweet Skipper, trots over to Vetiver with a flapping tongue hanging out of her mouth and a wagging tail. She's the only one that closes the distance between the rest of the pups and the fence.
She's the only one inviting Vetiver inside. Jon opens the fence and corrals the still barking dogs away, leaving Skipper and Vetiver alone together. She trots to his ankles, throwing her tiny body against him. Then, she runs towards the house.
He's not sure what she wants until she turns back at him, giving him a tiny bark. When her eyes fall back to the house, he realizes it can only mean one thing.
He's never moved faster.
She leads him inside the house, to the small bedroom the Brunes share with their pups when they aren't forced to sleep outside during their hunt. Vetiver sees the small bed, decorated to the brim with blankets. He sees the blobs of…blob shaped newborn pups. Six in total.
He falls to his knees and cries. He cries harder than he has in the past month. Weeks upon weeks of fighting battle after battle. Blood on his hands, Chaffinch in his arms as he takes his last breath, and everything in between. He took lives and he may never forgive himself, but as he watches Skipper circle the bed and lay on her back and show off the life she created, Vetiver feels some of the weight slide off of his back.
She sees him for him. She wants her babies to see him for him. And that is the greatest gift of it all.
He hears Jonquil enter behind him but the tears keep coming. He feels his father's hand on his back. He hears the pitter-patter of dog claws on the wood. And when Sherwood walks in front of Vetiver, he climbs his little legs up on Vetiver's knees and licks some of the tears away.
The rest of his pups follow soon enough. The barking ceases, replaced only by Vetiver's tears, but he cannot pull his eyes away from the new life in front of him.
They will be the first safe litter of the Brune family. No hunts, no sleepless nights, no ferocious attacks by wild animals. They get to grow up surrounded by their littermates like nothing in the world matters but living in the moment.
Vetiver thinks that would make any Victor cry. At least, that's what he tells himself.
(Was it all worth it? Was the bloodshed and pain and loss worth it, for this? Vetiver might spend the rest of his life trying to answer that question. He has the gift of time, a gift stolen from twenty-three others. That may always haunt him. Days, weeks, and years will pass and the faces of those lost will always be with him.
For now, though, nothing else matters but this.)
~Three months later~
Ellis Winslet, District 10 Mentor
The blistering heat of the summer starts to fade away, and Ellis is glad for it. As he embarks on his daily walk, he reminds himself next time he'll need to bring a jacket.
Autumn sits comfortably between the Games and the Victory Tour, and allows Ellis ample free time as the post-Games festivities have died down, and the Capitol hasn't started hounding him to prepare for the Victory Tour. He has fond memories of this time when his grandkids were running around Victor's Village, playing tag or climbing trees, as carefree as they could be.
Those memories make the present quiet that much more painful.
This fall has been much less solemn than previous ones. Instead of a silent Victor's Village, with nothing for Ellis to do, he's been helping Vetiver and his dad get settled. It turns out that puppy-proofing a house is a full-time job in of itself, and the homes in Victor's Village were not prepared for that. Fortunately, with the support of the Capitol and the three of them, they get it done.
On Ellis' walks, he hears playful yips from the inside of the Brune house. Every time he walks past, he sees more progress on the fence line. By the time the mornings have become brisk enough for a heavier jacket, the pups have free access to the backyard at any time. Sometimes when Ellis walks by, some of the younger dogs run out to greet him, and who is he to deny offering pets through the fence?
Some treats help his cause, of course. Those are his little secret.
Two of them have become particularly fond of him. He's been calling them Sora and Perry. He's not sure if Vetiver will keep the names yet.
In all honesty, it's both a relief and a curse for Ellis to see a house so lively in Victor's Village. Only a few of the homes have ever been occupied, and before Vetiver, it was down to two houses. His and Raven's. Sometimes, Raven's family comes over for dinner and adds a little liveliness to the neighborhood.
Ellis hasn't had liveliness in years. Not since the Capitol made him a bereaved husband, father, and grandfather in a single year. His home is a cold reminder of that fact. Toys collect dust in the corners of abandoned bedrooms he's too afraid to go into. Pictures of smiling faces decorate the walls, reminding Ellis of his failure.
Every year, when he's pulled back in to mentor, he's not sure he'll be strong enough to do it again. Each year, he manages the feat. Despite failure after failure, he comes back.
It finally paid off.
He reaches the front door of his house after his daily walk, wondering how much longer he'll be able to do this before the weather gets too unbearable. He usually struggles in the wintertime. Confined to his house with the Victory Tour playing in the background, he gets antsy with nothing to occupy his mind. Even when the Victory Tour reaches Ten, and he finds himself in the Justice Building, it's nothing thought-provoking. All he has to do is sit there and listen to a pre-written speech by the Victor and eat dinner with their entourage. Most of the time, it's unsubstantial. Sometimes, if the Victor in front of him had a hand in killing whoever Ellis was mentoring that year, it can be upsetting.
This will be the first Victory Tour he embarks on in decades. It will keep him busy for a while. Many preparations will need to be made, but even those won't begin for another few weeks. In the meantime, he'll have to cope with the silence.
He's preparing a cup of coffee when someone knocks at the door. He answers and although he isn't surprised to see Vetiver, he is surprised to see Vetiver with two small dogs at his feet and a bag in his hand.
"Well, hello!" Ellis says, kneeling down to let the puppies climb over him. He recognizes them as his two favorites, Sora and Perry. He looks up at Vetiver. "What's wrong?"
The question itself has more weight than Ellis intends. Vetiver makes him feel like a father again, constantly worrying about the boy.
Instincts are hard to kill.
Vetiver doesn't frown, or look at Ellis with an eye of confusion. Instead, he holds the bag out for Ellis to see its contents.
Dog food, some toys, and cotton pads. Ellis struggles to put it all together until Vetiver spells it out for him.
"I…I wasn't sure if you were a dog guy, um, but I see how Sora and Perry look at you and I see how you, um, you pet them and…you don't have to. They're potty trained!" Vetiver stumbles through his words as Ellis puts it all together.
He pushes himself up to a stand and wraps his arms around the boy. A gesture that used to be so unfamiliar to them both yet has become commonplace these days. Tears well up in Ellis' eyes.
"Thank you," he says through the cracks in his voice. A gesture so simple, so mundane to most, but everything to Ellis.
(He gives and gives and even when he gives it's not enough sometimes. He failed the ones who counted on him the most. How many times did he almost do the same with Vetiver?)
And now Vetiver has given him something he can't put into words how much it means to the old man.
(Maybe they will be okay. Maybe at the end of the day, they will be able to forgive themselves for their shortcomings and their failures.
Maybe when the next year of tributes come through, they'll be able to give them even more.)
Vetiver Brune, Victor of the 110th Hunger Games
"Hey, don't eat that!"
Vetiver chases after Sherwood, who has his eyes set on a pigeon. The dog barks and runs fast and Vetiver struggles to keep up. His leg still has random shots of pain that remind him of his Games injury, slowing him down with the same limp he had immediately post-victory.
Eventually, the bird has enough sense to fly off of the Brune's fence line, leaving Sherwood to bark at the spot the pigeon fled from.
Vetiver scoops up the dog, receiving a displeased yap from Sherwood. He immediately follows it by licking Vetiver's face.
"I love you too," Vetiver says between licks. He feels Sherwood's tail wag as he brings him back to the house and the rest of the pack.
Vetiver's days have been consistent. He wakes up and prepares breakfast for himself, his dad, and his dogs. Then, he and his dad tag team. One takes the dogs for a long walk around Victor's Village and the woods that surround it, and one takes the hawks into the woods for their daily exercise. The one on dog duty usually returns first and prepares lunch for everyone. The rest of the day, well, Vetiver is barely getting used to the concept of free time.
He's making do. Sometimes, he and his father walk around the markets, buying things they once could never dream of affording. Artwork, carvings, paintings, clothing, all things Vetiver once saw as luxury are now his without breaking a sweat. With Ellis' help, he tries to find a hobby the Capitol can awe over. He's tried a few things, and although he excels at none of them, he's found the most joy from knitting.
Only because of the little sweaters and blankets he can knit for his dogs.
His aunt and cousins still have their place in hunting. With Vetiver's support and connections, they've been able to shift into tourism for falconry. Instead of relying on sleepless hunts and the stress of not meeting quota, they're able to show off the ferocity of the hawks to awestruck Capitolites. His younger cousin has a knack for speaking, and Vetiver thinks she even enjoys the attention.
Good. The less that falls on him, the better.
Settling into this life has done little to calm him completely. Nightmares still plague his mind and as much as Ellis and his father try to talk to him, he can never find the right words to make it better. Nothing will change the fact that Chaffinch Canasto will never take another breath, nor the fact the Behrens family lost another child to the cruelty of the Capitol.
And then, of course, the tour. Days upon days of travel, cameras, interviews, seeing the families, looking them in the eyes, and thanking the Capitol for their generosity.
The thought alone makes him nauseous. He briefly wonders if he would be the first Victor to vomit on another District's stage. He doesn't want to ask Ellis.
He still has a few weeks to prepare, but if he's being honest with himself, he's unsure time would help. It could be months, or years later, and Vetiver still expects to stand on the stage and freeze. To feel the overwhelming weight of every eye on him. To stutter through every word and phrase no matter how many times he practices before.
It will suck. If Vetiver can just accept that, he might just be able to cope through it.
That's not a task for today. Today, he's going to take a long walk with the pups and enjoy the peace that comes from the sound of nature. He's going to remember the good times he had with his lost friends. He's going to imagine they're beside him still, supporting him every step of the way.
He thinks he deserves that, at least.
TW: Mild mentions of abuse. Please DM me if you prefer a summary.
Nausicaa Halcyone, Victor of the 89th Hunger Games
There has been a lot in Nausicaa's life that hasn't gone to plan. Ironically, the only thing that did go to plan was winning at 13.
Had she never done that, she wouldn't be in this fucking mess.
Captured, interrogated, and abused, on more than one occasion. That wouldn't have happened had she been a nobody. She could have been just another failed Career, taken up a job in fishing, or training at the Academy. Sure, she would have been miserable, but she'd be safe.
Life could be so peaceful.
She doesn't believe Darrah when she says they're safe. They're never safe. Not while Panem still exists as it does.
Being behind bars isn't what made them unsafe. It merely made it easier for the Capitol to punish them. Punishment will still come, Nausicaa is sure of it.
She leans against one of the many storage crates that line the inside of the train. One of the dozen the Capitol sent out on its weekly schedule to collect goods produced by the Districts to bring back. It's as luxurious as Nausicaa could expect from an escape plan.
(If she's being honest, she never expected to see anything except the bars of her cell. Every time the Peacekeepers entered and dragged her away, she expected those to be her last moments.)
Aleida sits beside her. They haven't talked, not since they first sat down. That was…what...three hours ago?
"You think we're there yet?" she asks. His eyes jump to the location of her voice, but Nausicaa can tell he still can't place her perfectly.
(They both lost a piece of themselves in the Capitol, in those fucking cells. But only one of them got out with their vision intact.)
"I think we'd know if we were," he replies dryly.
"You don't think they forgot us?" Nausicaa asks.
"You wish."
Silence overtakes the pair again, at least as much silence as can be expected on a freight train. It's short-lived though, and as the train slows, Nausicaa can feel her chest tighten.
Aleida must sense her anxieties.
"Whatever you're worried about, it can't be worse than where we just came from. Breathe a little."
Before she can respond, she hears her train car door slide open. She sees Darrah first, then Conrad behind her.
"We're in Five," Darrah says softly. "We have a few minutes before they start unloading."
Nothing else needs to be said.
Nausicaa helps Aleida stand up and the three let Darrah guide them to the last freight car. There they stand silently until a knock on the metal sends Darrah into action. She pulls the door open, revealing a single unarmed Peacekeeper, then looks at Conrad.
"I'll take him from here," he says softly to Nausicaa. Nausicaa doesn't release her grip on Aleida. Her eyes shift from Darrah back to Conrad. She doesn't distrust them, not really. But, well, who can blame her for being a little hesitant?
"Don't you want to go back to Four?" Darrah asks when she realizes Nausicaa isn't moving.
"Don't you want to go back to Six?" Nausicaa redirects the question to Conrad. To her surprise, the mention of home doesn't even receive a jerk from him. Like he's completely written it off as nothing more than a place.
"Not particularly." Conrad waits, and Darrah mutters something again about hurrying up. The Peacekeeper looks behind their shoulder, and Nausicaa knows her time is limited.
She doesn't know what to say. What could she say to someone like Aleida, maybe the only person who understands Nausicaa better than herself?
Silence doesn't feel like enough. She can only hope he knows her well enough to know why in a time of goodbye, she can only find silence.
Nausicaa drops her grip on Aleida, and Conrad takes over. The two jump out of the freight. As the door shuts, Nausicaa thinks she imagines seeing it, but she clings to it, refusing to release it.
(Hope. Relief. Two emotions Conrad and Aleida have been void of for so long.
She grabs ahold of it and refuses to let go. For their sake, and maybe, her own.)
vet my beloved
nell I sincerely hope this one doesn't send you to the er
one more epilogue to go!