Day Seventeen: Everyone Casts a Shadow

"Victor!" The cry goes up from near a thousand throats, and Skate gives a smile. Four's foundered without their training. Many could say the Reapings had been rigged, that the upper-class school children and the slum rats had been picked intentionally. To show Four that nobody was safe, to prove to the District that no pretences to status above the other outer Districts could erase what they were. Four had stayed loyal enough in the rebellion that they'd been allowed the privilege of training their boys and girls under the pretences of 'learning for their job'.

Now they're no better. Now they know that, and now the most Four can hope for is a Victor once every fifteen, twenty years. Because they, at the least, weren't quite as doomed as the others. Their mentors were still competent, for one thing. They had still some semblance of a loyal sponsor base in a way Eight, Eleven, tides forbid Twelve didn't have. They may not have had One's infinite cash-flow, but that was One.

And, most importantly, they had their children. Children who were deemed pretty, bronzed by the sun and oh so popular for a district without Volunteers. Children who knew what old Four was like, who were promised that maybe were they to do well and prove loyalty to the Capitol then they'd actually be able to reclaim that position, displace the usurpers in Five and Ten. But that never quite came to pass.

And now he's a Victor - the prize Four won for loyalty. The trophy that Four could bring home and claim that now they were favoured, now they were trusted and prove that they were the best, the most popular District. That surely their return to Squad status was just around the corner.

But it isn't. Is it?

Five's catching up, now, three Victors to their One since the 75th. Ten's likely going to charge in as well, even thought they'd previously lagged with only three Victors. And Skate's the consolation prize, the last Victor they've pulled back. The last chance they've had, maybe, for a good many years.

And it isn't like he's blameless. It isn't like he's done no injury, because he's done all kinds of injury and has no way to keep it from the damage it has done.

Mola's Family

Mola had a family. Of course she did, even the worst among them had family and even the worst among them had family who loved, cared about them. They were waiting at the station, batted that way by the Capitol in order the Capitol could show off their benevolence. Hollow-eyed and lank haired, it was clear the grief was taking them hard. As it should be, she was the only daughter and both older and younger brothers looked like they'd been carved from stone in how staunch their expressions were. Showing strength.

Parents were in a far worse state. Her mother had a bite in her eyes, brown and oh so angry. Maybe they were once a glossy chocolate brown, but now they're dull, like the chocolate has now stood too long in the sun, gone matte and the brown of age. Father has a long tangled beard, the kind of beard that hasn't been tamed or cared for. The kind of beard that shows a lack of respect, a lack of hope, a general disappointment in what she has done and in what he will continue to do.

A beard that shows he's given up.

They don't spit white hot hate at him, don't yell or complain or do anything that could give Skate reason to hate them back. And if he's honest, he wishes they would give him that casus belli, because then it would be so much easier.

The other Victors

Oh, they're pleasant enough. Iliamna, Polybotes, Circe. Leah especially. They're all there to help him get situated, to help Skate move into his new house. Polybotes may be old, but he's still hale enough to get new furniture put up in no more than a few heartbeats. Iliamna was his mentor, as it is they got along well enough he doesn't feel too bad inviting her into his home to get help on the interior decorating front, because all the stars that guide know he's useless at that. Circe's not the best at helping, but she helps stock cupboards with alcohol and spices and all the things that you can't quite remember when you're 16 and stocking up your house.

Leah is the best helper, though. She doesn't offer the same physical help as the rest, she doesn't need to. What they don't offer the Capitol provides, and so her help is more... personal. Pointing Skate in the direction of the best places to sit at the nice dinners he has to attend by mandate of Snow so he can get to know Sponsors and his fellows. Making sure he's well, even when night terrors chase after him. Keeping him involved.

But there's always that stain of disappointment. The eyeing and consideration of him as less than the rest. The disappointed glances because he wasn't a perfectly prepared Victor in the way they all were. And he can never shake that, standing as he was in the shadow of dead Finnick Odair.

His own family.

The shadow is spotted with light. Light that is glad that he was able to return home. There's almost a smile on his family's faces, because he's a Victor and he survived. It was more than any had ever hoped for, because now he's very rich and has more luxury than most know what to do with. He can share it with them, make sure his family can set up in Liltja and get nice jobs in the future. That's Victory. The freedom to keep your family educated, smart, ready.

And that shadow he casts is going to fall for a very long time.