Hazel awoke to the unsettling sensation of snow melting into her skin, a feeling that seemed to seep into her very being. She was momentarily lost in a haze of disorientation, her thoughts entangled in the remnants of her dreams. Still chilled from the lingering echoes of her dreamworld, she sought solace in the familiar embrace of her blankets, pulling them up to her nose. The air in the room carried a strange scent, a departure from the usual piney aroma of her home, the forest, and the earth she knew so well.
Instead, it was a cleaner scent reminiscent of freshly laundered linens.
Still groggy from slumber, her mind struggled to make sense of it all. She felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, her memory flickering like a fading candle. In that fleeting moment, a whirlwind of emotions coursed through her, a kaleidoscope of fear, disbelief, and determination. She couldn't ignore that her world had been altered beyond recognition in the past day.
As her disoriented thoughts began to settle, Hazel peeled back the blankets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room was bathed in the gentle morning glow of the sun's rays, casting warm hues across the ornate furnishings. She rose to her feet, bare toes meeting the plush carpet underfoot.
She approached the window and drew back the heavy curtains, revealing a scene that was both breathtaking and bewildering. Beyond the confines of their luxurious prison, a vast garden and manicured lawn unfurled before her. A grand circular fountain, its waters sparkling and leaping in the golden light, stood as a beacon in the center of it all.
The scene beyond the yard was equally surreal. A towering brick wall demarcated the estate's boundaries, beyond which the world unfolded in a series of rolling green hills. The sunrise on the horizon painted the sky with hues of pink and gold.
Hazel stood there, her gaze transfixed on the horizon as she drank in the surreal beauty of the Capitol's landscape. The rolling green hills seemed to stretch on indefinitely, basking in the warm embrace of the early morning sun.
A subtle change in Silus's breathing drew her attention. Turning, she witnessed her brother peeking his eyes open. Disappointment filled his face as he took in their unfamiliar surroundings.
"Morning, sunshine," she greeted him. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've ever gotten up before you."
Silus sat up, his hand moving to rub away the lingering traces of sleep from his face. "It would take a life-and-death experience for you to finally get up on time."
"Touche," she conceded. "How did you sleep?"
Silus, while stretching his stiff muscles, couldn't help but respond with a playful exaggeration,
"Like the dead." They both paused as the words hung in the air.
"You really need to stop saying that," Hazel teased.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He glanced at Hazel, his eyes betraying the anxiety lingering beneath the surface. "How did you sleep?"
Hazel sighed, "Like hell."
Before Silus could respond, a sudden knock on the door echoed through the room, followed by the unmistakable click of a lock disengaging. Hazel's eyes darted to the door.
The familiar faces of Indira Lovegood and their peacekeeper peeked through the door at them. Indira's long, lustrous hair cascaded in intricate braids, shimmering under the soft room lighting. Her caramel-toned arms were adorned with bracelets that jingled as she moved. She donned a deep magenta dress that matched the vibrant shade of lipstick she wore, her signature diamond-encrusted heels reflecting the artificial brilliance of Capitol fashion.
"Good morning, tributes," Indira began, her voice carrying an air of detachment as her eyes darted around the room as though she were trying to remember something. "I've brought you new clothes." In her hands, she held what appeared to be two neatly folded outfits. While different from their usual attire, the fabric bore a semblance to something they might wear during long workdays in the woods. The color palette was earthy, with deep browns for the pants and checkered plaid tops. Relief surged through her at the prospect of shedding her reaping skirt. Their peacekeeper placed two pairs of sturdy leather boots on the floor.
Indira continued, "Feel free to shower and get ready for the day, and then Leo here will bring you down for breakfast when you are ready." Her voice remained detached, but the information she provided was undoubtedly helpful. She set the clothing down on Hazel's bed without a sound before exiting.
Their peacekeeper, apparently named Leo, spoke, making eye contact with them, "You have twenty minutes, and I will be back to collect you both."
The door clicked shut, leaving Hazel and Silus alone once more. Hazel turned to her younger brother, a playful glint in her eye. "You want to arm wrestle over who showers first?" she teased.
Silus shook his head. "Go for it, Sis."
With a grin, she picked up the smaller pile of clothing. "You're right, no need to prove my inevitable victory," she replied.
As she stepped into the searing warmth of the shower, she let out a contented sigh. It was a luxury she seldom enjoyed back home in District Seven, where every drop of water was a precious resource to be conserved, especially in a house with eight people. Here, in the Capitol, water flowed freely. The idea of a long, hot shower at home was a foreign extravagance.
The heat from the showerhead penetrated her chilled skin, working its way into her muscles, and she relished the sensation. The water cascaded over her, a comforting embrace that seemed to wash away the physical grime and some of her emotional weight. It was as though each droplet carried a piece of her unease, allowing her to breathe a little easier.
The scent of the soap filled the steamy air, mingling with the warmth and creating a strangely soothing aroma that enveloped her senses.
She tucked her uncle's necklace under her shirt. Emerging from the bathroom, steam trailing in her wake, Hazel called out to Silus, "Your turn, little brother."
As Silus went to the bathroom, she called out, "Try to keep those stitches dry."
Silus nodded, wiping his drooping lids with the back of his hand as he headed into the bathroom.
Hazel combed through her long red hair with her fingers and styled it as best she could with what she had at her disposal, placing half of it up in some haphazard twists.
Just as Hazel was sitting down to put on the boots, the door to their room opened again, and Leo walked in.
"Sorry, has it been twenty minutes? Silus is still showering; I might have hogged it a little long," Hazel blurted out.
Leo's response was reassuring, "No, you're fine. I was checking to make sure you guys are moving." With that, he turned to walk out of the room.
Hazel called after him, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait," she said, catching his attention. He turned, looking at her with a questioning expression. "I just want to thank you."
Leo's initial response was firm, "No need."
Hazel pressed on, her words tinged with gratitude and a touch of awkwardness, "Well, okay, I want to then. I was surprised, especially after the whole thing with the pat-down yesterday."
She trailed off, her voice hesitant.
"You're welcome. Don't mention it," Leo replied, his eyes betraying a hint of worry before he suppressed it. He glanced towards the bathroom, where the shower had stopped.
"Did I hear Indira call you Leo?" She asked.
"It's Leonidas, but call me Leo."
Hazel nodded in acknowledgment.
Leo paused as they were about to go their separate ways; his eyes met Hazel's. "About that suture kit..." he began in a hushed tone.
Hazel understood immediately. He would need it back. Discovery of the kit by others could spell trouble for them all. "Oh, that. It's in the bathroom. I'll make sure you get it later."
Acknowledging with a nod, Leo added, "I'll wait out here for you both. The door's unlocked." With that, he exited the room.
After a short time, Silus emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his matching outfit. Soon, Silus and Hazel descended the elegant stairs, with Leo trailing them. They entered a large dining room where a table, almost longer than the room itself, was set up family-style for breakfast.
Two Capital chefs, dressed in somewhat odd elaborate outfits that resembled something out of a fantastical carnival, were cooking a large breakfast spread. The room was abuzz with the chatter of the tributes, who were either already enjoying their meals or marveling at the sheer amount of food before them.
As Hazel and Silus approached the table, they spotted little Ruby and her tribute partner, Ethan Black, sitting together. Their plates were piled high with food. Ruby beamed up at Hazel and Silus, her eyes wide with wonder. "Can you believe how much food there is for one meal? It's more than I have seen in a month back home."
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Ethan chimed in between bites, his mouth full of delicious food, "Tastes better than home too." He continued to stuff his face, savoring every bite.
Sitting next to Ruby and Ethan, Hazel and Silus filled their plates with several mouthwatering dishes on the table. The various Capital escorts from the different districts were adorned in outlandishly elaborate outfits that seemed more suited to a theatrical performance than a morning meal. Indira Lovegood sat across the table from them. She was quiet, saying nothing as she observed her meal without looking up.
Hazel knew they were starving in many districts, often more so in Twelve, Eight, and Five. While life in District Seven was far from luxurious, they usually had enough to go around, even during the most challenging times. There had been winters when resources were tight, but the tight-knit community always managed to make do. However, Hazel couldn't shake the chilling rumors she'd heard about people starving to death in District Twelve and other struggling districts.
They continued their conversation and enjoyed their meal, sharing laughter when Ethan had seconds and thirds. Hazel warned him as he returned for a fourth plate, "You know you're going to get sick, right?" She had witnessed the effects of refeeding on patients who had been starving, and it was never a pleasant sight. Ruby and Ethan, with their empty plates, seemed to confirm that they had been definitely starving in District Twelve.
Ethan brushed off her concern with a careless wave of his hand. "I don't even care what happens. I'll enjoy it all over again."
"Gross!" cried Ruby, making a face.
Across the table, Indira gave a slight but genuine smile as she watched them.
"You all seem rather chummy for a bunch on the chopping block," a calm voice from behind them remarked. Turning, Hazel laid eyes on the tributes from Districts One and Two. Each of them carried a distinct air of confidence, no doubt bolstered by their training in their respective districts.
Hazel couldn't resist responding before she could filter her words, "Why not, right? I mean, if we're all toast anyway. Might as well make the most of our pre-toast existence. We all can't be from district two."
Caleb, the male tribute from District Two, raised an eyebrow at her comment. "Feeling brave this morning, huh, Red?" he remarked, his dark eyes assessing. In the arena, bravery and boldness could be assets, but they could also be liabilities, and Caleb seemed eager to test the waters.
"No more than usual, but we can't all be buzzkills like you guys in two," she replied, a note of challenge in her voice. Beside her, Silus shifted but didn't intervene.
Eve Preston, the female tribute from District Two, said, "Well, it's refreshing to see a bit of spirit, even if it's short-lived." Her green eyes glittered with a competitive spark. Clearly, the tributes from the Career districts were sizing up the competition, searching for any potential weaknesses to exploit.
From District One, Julian Bright leaned against the table, his dark blond hair falling over his forehead. He regarded Hazel and Silus with an air of detached amusement. "Enjoy it while it lasts," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Seeing you both go so soon will be a shame."
Elara Luxe, the petite female tribute from District One, chimed in with a smile that didn't quite reach her hazel eyes. "But seriously, enjoy your breakfast. It might be one of your last decent meals."
"Who is chummy now?" She felt a surge of defiance fueled by a cocktail of anxiety and a Capital omelet. "Is this some kind of group project or something? This is like some master class in multi-person bullying. Did you all prepare your speeches beforehand, or was that all improvised?"
Silus gave her side a forceful nudge. Their impending doom had thrown her usual caution to the wind.
Caleb's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. Silus stiffened beside her, his muscles tensing in anticipation of a possible escalation.
Leo's authoritative voice cut through the room as the air between them charged with unspoken tension. "Enough, everyone. Grab some breakfast, and let's stick to the day's agenda," he announced, his tone brooking no argument. Standing near the entrance, flanked by a group of stoic peacekeepers, his stern eyes swept over the group, pausing on Hazel and Silus.
Districts One and Two tributes — Caleb with his brooding intensity, Julian with his casual arrogance, Elara with her deceptive sweetness, and Eve with her competitiveness — shared a moment of silent communication, their eyes darting between Hazel and Silus. After a tense moment, they seemed to collectively decide to disengage, turning their attention towards the lavish buffet spread out across the room.
Hazel shifted her focus back to her plate, biting her lip. Leo's watchful grey stare was still fixed on her. Hazel couldn't help but reflect on her uncharacteristic boldness as she picked at her food, a departure from her usually careful demeanor. The gravity of their situation was sinking in, yet it seemed to ignite a fierce defiance within her that she hadn't fully realized was there.
The rest of the tributes crept into the dining room, each grabbing a plate and filling it with the lavish breakfast spread. However, Ian Threader remained an exception. He sat at the table, back straight, his long black hair re-braided, his eyes distant. Despite the tempting aroma of food wafting through the air, he refused to take anything but water.
His partner, Ava Valoum, sat beside him, looking concerned. She made repeated attempts to persuade Ian to accept even a tiny amount of food, but he continued to shake his head, his refusal adamant and unwavering.
As the tributes settled with their loaded plates, the head peacekeeper, who Hazel learned over breakfast was named Percy, took center stage. He was similar to a drill sergeant, his tone laced with a mock enthusiasm that didn't quite mask the underlying menace. "Good morning, ladies! What a glorious day to be alive, wouldn't you agree?" he said, his smile more predatory than pleasant.
"We've got a busy schedule ahead," Percy announced. "Our esteemed Senator Snow will outline the details. Remember, there are no interruptions. Listen and learn."
The room's energy cooled as Senator Snow and Dr. Gaul entered the dining area. Snow, exuding an air of cold authority, was the picture of refined power. His blonde hair was flawlessly styled, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to scrutinize every tribute. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored deep blue suit, complemented by dark gloves, a flowing coat, and his signature white rose pinned to his lapel.
Dr. Gaul stood in contrast with her deep maroon lab coat. Her naturally curly hair framed her face, adding to her eccentric nature. Her keen eyes swept over the tributes.
Senator Snow stepped forward, his demeanor polished yet undeniably ominous. "Good morning, tributes," he greeted them, his voice smooth and controlled. His piercing blue eyes methodically surveyed the room, pausing on Hazel for a beat. "It seems we've had quite the spirited start to the day," he remarked, a subtle note of warning in his tone.
Ever the silent observer, Dr. Gaul stood just behind him, her intense gaze sweeping across the young tributes.
Snow received a neat stack of papers from Dr. Gaul, each sheet outlining the upcoming events. "I will be personally reviewing your schedule for the next few days," he announced. "It's not often that I take such a direct role, but given the unique nature of this year's Games, I find it necessary."
"Firstly, today you will strategize with your escorts and get fitted for your formal attire for tonight's grand banquet," he began, his eyes skimming the document. "This banquet is more than a social event; it's a showcase. Capitol's elite and VIPs will attend, and they will bid for the privilege of joining you at unveiling the new arena."
The room buzzed with curiosity at the mention of the arena, but Snow's stern look restored silence.
"Tomorrow," he continued, "will be your arena tour with the winning VIPs. It's a chance to assess the environment you'll be competing in. Be observant; it might just save your life."
He then turned the page, "The following day, you'll have your interviews with Lucky Flickerman. Remember, this is your last chance to charm the Capitol audience. Impress them."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Finally, on the eve of the Games, you will enjoy a 'last supper.' It's an opportunity to indulge before the real challenge begins." His eyes swept over them once more. "Remember, tributes, save your antagonism for the arena. There will be plenty of time to tear each other apart." His warning was clear – any misstep now could have dire consequences.
The room fell into a heavy silence as the tributes absorbed the gravity of their upcoming events. After Senator Snow's announcement, the tributes split up into their respective districts and ventured throughout the expansive manor, each searching for a private space in the house where they could be alone with their Capital escort, closely watched by the peacekeepers.
Silus, Hazel, Indira, and Leo eventually converged at the sizeable circular fountain in the mansion's garden. The July sun shone overhead, casting a warm and inviting glow over the manicured garden. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers and the gentle sound of flowing water from the fountain added to the serene ambiance.
The fountain was a work of art, with intricate stone figures that seemed to dance and play in the cascading water. The water sparkled in the sunlight, casting tiny rainbows in all directions.
Leaning against the fountain's edge, Indira's glistening hair caught the sun's rays. Indira spoke with unexpected seriousness: "Out of all the tributes, you two might just have the advantage."
Hazel, momentarily distracted from trailing her fingers through the water's cool surface, looked up, "That's your expert analysis?"
Indira, her expression still detached, shook her head. "I don't kid."
"That seems on brand," Hazel retorted.
"Enough, Hazel," Silus chided, shooting her a disapproving glance. "Let's hear her out, okay? Indira, please continue. My sister's not a morning person.
Raising her hands in mock surrender, earning her another sharp look from Silus. Hazel relented. "Alright, alright. Do go on, Indira. Enlighten us about our 'advantage.'"
In the background, Leo, observing from a distance, struggled to contain his amusement at the exchange, a couple of stifled chuckles breaking through his composed exterior.
Indira's words carried a weight of certainty, "You two have the most compelling story this year. Siblings in The Games – it's unprecedented. It's tragic, and that's exactly what captivates the audience. Play up the bond, the shared history. It's almost as if the narrative writes itself. All you have to do is keep from screwing it up."
Her eyes rested on Hazel; a rising revolution filled her at exploiting their sibling relationship for the Capitol's entertainment right before they were to be murdered on live television. "Holding hands earlier was genius. Continue showing that unity. The more the audience empathizes with your plight, the more sponsor support you will likely receive."
Silus, ever earnest and focused, absorbed her words. "How about our interviews? Should we run through what questions we might be asked and the best answers?"
Indira perked up at his suggestion. "Absolutely, let's strategize how to convey your narratives effectively," she agreed.
Hazel stood up from the fountain's edge. The conversation, planning, and manipulation of their story were all too much. "You two knock yourselves out," she muttered, a tinge of bitterness in her voice. "I need a minute.
As she rose, Leo, ever watchful, straightened and took a few steps in her direction. "Don't worry, Leo. I'm not going anywhere," Hazel said, her voice firm yet tired. "I wouldn't leave him behind." Her words were as much a reassurance to Leo as they were a reminder to herself of the inescapable reality they were trapped in. The manor, surrounded by peacekeepers at every turn, offered no real escape.
Just a moment to breathe. She then turned to wander off towards the extensive gardens, a brief respite from the relentless strategizing and the heavy weight of the morning's events. A short break, she hoped, would help her regain her composure before her impulsive remarks made things worse.
The sprawling grounds seemed to cover about ten acres, and Hazel couldn't help but be overwhelmed by their beauty. The early morning sun bathed the gardens in a warm, golden glow. The soft rustle of leaves and the gentle chirping of birds created a soothing symphony that filled the air.
The scent of blooming flowers enveloped her, a fragrant mix of roses, lavender, and other blossoms she couldn't quite place. A sweet, heady aroma hung in the warm July morning air. It was like she had entered an entirely different world. If she closed her eyes, it was almost like home—except the scent was too heavy with the perfume of flowers.
Hazel lost herself in thought, her fingers brushing the velvety petals of a deep crimson rose. Some of the hues around her seemed too vibrant and unnatural to be found in nature, yet they flourished here in the heart of the Capitol. The garden was a riot of colors, a breathtaking display of nature's beauty intertwined with man's cunning.
As she stood among the vibrant and oddly colored roses, a deep and familiar voice broke through her thoughts. She was suddenly made keenly aware of a presence in her vicinity.
"I just love roses, don't you?"