Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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For as long as little Neva Van de Aart could remember, she associated the sound of sobbing with Reaping Day.

Each year she got older, and each year she remembered her mother's sobs. near inconsolable, heartbroken by something Neva couldn't understand. She wasn't naive enough to not understand what the Hunger Games were, what they symbolised. But it didn't lessen her worry, her hesitation about asking why her mother found every Fourth of July difficult.

But life wasn't always doom and gloom; in fact, her life was pretty darn good! Neva was homeschooled and loved learning, always asking questions; her curious nature had her constantly seeking answers and trying to understand things. Not just schooling, but the world around her! Who her family was, who came before her, and where they would go when they passed on.

Neva loved listening to her Mam, her Pa, and her grandma, as well as her aunts and uncles if they were around, reminiscing about her aunt Tabitha. Around the table, in the living room, anywhere. They all loved the paintings she created, how she was the funniest yet kindest soul in the family, and that her paintings were better than any in the Capitol.

She loved learning about her aunt. But, sometimes those sessions of reminiscing ended tearfully.

Neva remembered as clear as day, one evening. Eight years old, her dark wavy hair just over her shoulders, eyes brimming with curiosity. Genuine, child-like curiosity. She asked her mother the question:

“Is Aunt Tabitha dead? Is that why you get sad?”

The air in the living room was still and heavy, her mother looking into her daughter’s eyes as tears filled hers. She wanted to tell Neva something, but little Neva could see it in her eyes. But her anguish was too strong, tears falling and sobs wracking her body. Her sister and father rushed to her, kneeling to comfort her, while Neva was quickly ushered out of the living room by Alden.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make her cry, I just wanted to know! Let me say sorry to her, Alden, please!”

Alden looked panicked, though for what reason, Neva didn’t understand. He knelt to her level, holding her by her wrist whilst he spoke in a hushed tone.

“I know Neva, you didn’t do it on purpose, and Mam knows it too. But talking about Aunty Tabitha… It’s hard for her. So hard it makes her cry every time someone asks, so we can’t talk about those kinds of things, okay?”

“But- Alden, is she really dead? Is that why Mam cries? She misses her. I can help, let me talk to her about it!”

“She--” There was movement from the room behind the living room door, stirring worry in Neva’s older brother, “She’s… uh, she’s alive. Aunt Tabitha doesn’t live here anymore. She got brought to the Capitol, you remember those stories, right? But this topic is too stressful and touchy for Mam to handle, so we cannot bring it up with her, okay, Nev?”

A gut-wrenching wail came from the living room, and Alden stood up, making way towards the door before looking at his youngest sister. He could see the thousands of unanswered questions floating behind her eyes. The fear that came with mentioning them, too. But he smiled softly at Neva and gestured to the open front door, her companion, Buddy, waiting for her. And then, he was gone, leaving Neva and their sheepdog alone.

The entire encounter had left her wanting to know more, in need of vital information that was deemed too sensitive to talk about. So, while Neva did go play with Buddy, who was more than happy to go about chasing a toy ball for Neva to throw and make him do tricks for, she felt unsure. A strange feeling lingered over her, one her young mind couldn’t place.

She didn’t let go of this information, not even as years passed. She mulled over it, repeating the conversations, the reminiscing, everything she could to figure out a solution to a problem that only she could see. 

It would take time, plenty of it, before a plan was determined.

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A gentle breeze fanned Neva’s face, blowing wavy strands of hair out of her face, as she sat in the field in front of her house, knees to her chest. It had unintentionally become her sanctuary, finding herself always drawn to the large willow tree in the centre of the large field.

Buddy sat beside her, softly panting as he observed the numerous sheep grazing around them, all happy to co-exist with the newly fourteen-year-old girl. Neva stewed over her thoughts, filled with so many conflicting emotions that she was unsure how to address them. Despite the occasional bleating, everything was quiet. Quietly, Neva unburdened her worries on her closest, black-and-white, furry friend.

“God, Eira is such a bitch sometimes, honestly! Can you believe her, Buddy? Kicking me off some job I am totally old enough to handle! I’m not some little kid anymore; I’m not eight and super fragile. She knows how much I know about horses, I know how to deal with them, more than she does!” Neva just got so annoyed by Eira, she was so bossy!

Following an annoyed huff, Neva let her eyes fall on the woolly animals around her. She just wanted to help! Their closest neighbours had acquired some new horses, and they needed assistance; a number of the horses they had bought were feisty and spirited. Neva knew horses, mostly through her homeschooling, but she had interacted with plenty. She had volunteered to go help their neighbours, with her father, when Eira stepped in, telling Neva how it was too dangerous for someone “her age”. Eira was only three years older than her, for crying out loud!

Ugh! As if she knew even half of the horse facts and methods for working with them, as Neva did! The young girl scooted and turned away from the tree, flopping backwards onto the soft grass. She groaned in frustration and covered her face, thoroughly annoyed by her older sister, before letting her arms fall to her sides. Buddy peered over Neva, his brown eyes curious and empathetic to his master’s issues.

“Buddy, don’t look at me like that. I know, she’s just trying to protect me because I’m her baby sister, and she’s looking out for me. But I want to help more! I love learning; everyone here knows that. But I also want to feel useful! I love Mam, if I could, I’d be attached by the hip to her! But…”

Neva’s voice trailed off, eyes flickering over to the willow tree above her, observing the swaying branches. Alden would like it if he were still here. He’d moved out recently, telling Neva that he wanted to find steady work, and maybe, find someone he could fall in love with.

It stung. Neva wasn’t silly; she knew her brother would eventually move out. He was twenty-two; she’d do the same thing if she were his age. It still didn’t hurt any less that her best friend would be leaving her. He was like her partner-in-crime, and his laugh always sent Neva into a fit of laughter; it was that contagious.

She knew that it meant that if she heard his laughter less, she would see him less often. But she knew her brother needed to live his own life; things could never stay the same forever. It just felt like, no matter how hard they tried, their family wasn’t going to be complete, not fully.

If Alden left, wouldn’t Eira? And then Neva, eventually. Who would be there for her mother, once they all left? She still found reaping day unbearable, each year adding to the sting of the wound it felt on her. Neva had hoped Alden would have finally told her why Mam got so upset every year, if it had anything to do with Aunt Tabitha. He didn’t even hint at anything, leaving her in limbo.

Neva worried for her mother. It wasn’t that their mother was infirm, and that she wouldn’t be able to do anything once they all flew the nest. She was strong and could do almost any job around here. But any mention of her sister, she was distraught for hours, unless she had her good days, when her family would reminisce over her.

Neva wanted to help; she wanted to figure out a solution to it. If she could go to the Capitol, find her aunt and speak to her, surely she could…

“Buddy! I’m a genius! I know what I need to do, I know exactly what needs to happen to bring her home!”

Neva, with stray twigs and blades of grass in her hair, grinned widely, ran into her home, to her room and began to plot. Her plans, what she’d need to do, everything. The price to pay for this would be great; she was risking her life to find her aunt. But if she won, if she came out of that arena alive and a Victor, how could her aunt deny her request? Her mam would have her sister back, there would be no more crying, maybe Alden might come back home for a little bit too, and they could have one big family reunion!

Neva considered these risks and thought of them over a thousand times. But she had already made her decision that day underneath the willow tree. She did her research, going into the city occasionally, usually with Mam or Eira, and casually breaking away to read, looking for previous District Ten Victors, their methods, and their arenas. Absolutely everything, to prepare herself as best she knew how.

Neva would be the one to bear the weight of bringing her aunt home from the Capitol. If Tabitha saw her niece on the Capitol’s national broadcast of the event, she would see her and hear her pleas.

Neva Van de Aart would volunteer for the Hunger Games. 

If she succeeds, she could reunite her family. If she failed… she could face the consequences of that if it came to it. This would be the stepping stone to her family's healing once and for all.

Chapter Text

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Neva could feel her hands tingling as adrenaline coursed through her body, and she watched the Capitol escort approach the large bowl of names. She was going to have to be loud and confident once she called out her volunteering; she couldn’t let the first time the Panem saw her be full of fear and terror.

Neva was brave and smart, and she knew better than anyone that she could do this. It wasn’t ideal that her only way of finding her aunt was through the Hunger Games, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it meant no more heartache from her mother.

(She forced herself not to think about the heartbreak that she would cause by volunteering. The pain that came with a loved one going into the Games. But this was for them, for her mam.)

As the escort drew out a name and returned to the microphone, it felt like there was a ball of electricity in her chest, flowing through her veins. Okay, this was it. The moment whatever poor girl’s name would be spoken, Neva’s fate would be sealed as she put herself forward in her place.

She quickly adjusted her muted lavender blouse, tucking it into her skirt as she straightened it, and tightened her braid, remembering advice Alder had given her when they talked about meeting new people. First impressions mattered, not massively for most, but it was always good to look your best for important moments. It showed the world and the people around you that you cared about what you were a part of.

He was here today, like the rest of the district; it was one of the few days the whole district got an entire day off that wasn’t holiday-based. She always took his words to heart and knew he would understand better than anyone why she was doing this.

“I’ll see you when I get home, Buddy.” She whispered to herself, in hopes the wind would carry the message to him back at the farm.

As the slip unfolded, she reminded herself one last time of her reasons, her purpose for doing this all. For going somewhere that would be less than kind.

For her dad, her sister, and her brother.

For Mam.

For Aunt Tabitha.

“Our female tribute is… Mallory-Grace Heath!”

“I volunteer as tribute!”

Her cry rang out over the Square, her voice bounding off the buildings surrounding the area. There was no doubt that everyone in attendance heard her, and now, Neva needed to show the world who she was.

Then silence. Stunned, horrified, she didn’t matter because Neva had done it; she had volunteered. She yelled the words that would guide her long-lost aunt in the Capitol.  As she began to move out for the fourteen-year-old section, Neva held her head high, back straight, doing her best to radiate the confidence she needed the world to know she had. 

She could feel the entire district’s — no, the entire of Panem’s — eyes on her, watching with horror, curiosity and eagerness. She could feel her hands trembling, so she balled them up to hide her nervousness. As she approached the stage before the Justice Building, the camera found her face, displaying the young volunteer for all to see. Mumblings and whispers spread out across the crowd before they were interrupted by a sound she knew came from her mother.

A mournful scream rang across the Square, one that forced Neva to grit her teeth and continue to ascend the stairs to the stage. She smiled in her friendliest way, forcing the bile at the back of her throat down. Mam would understand. Once she saw her in the Justice Building, she would explain everything, and she would understand why she needed to do this. This needed to happen for her family to be united again.

As Neva ascended to the stage, she briefly glanced towards the Mayor and Ten’s mentors. Zipporah Parnell, Ten’s most recent Victor, seemingly found it hard to contain her horror, watching Neva with her hand to her mouth.

“Well, look at this! A volunteer, and so young too!” The escort chirped, his teal and golden aesthetic an assault to the eyes. “Everyone back home knows never to count out a tribute because they are young! Isn’t that right, Zipporah?”

The escort laughed, as if this wasn’t a serious situation, and found the young Victor’s discomfort. Neva wanted to frown, to knock him down a peg, but knew this wasn’t the time to do it, so she simply smiled.

“Tell us, madam, what’s your name? Did you know the girl you volunteered for?”

“I’m Neva Van de Aart,” She said politely, speaking into the microphone and keeping her hands together in front of her, “And if you want to know why I volunteered, I guess you’ll have to watch the interviews to find out!” She found a camera on the roof of a tall building to achieve the right shot, and she looked into it and smiled brightly.

“Oh, ho, ho! Secrets and intrigue already, Neva here is one to watch, ladies and gentlemen! Wonderful, with that done, let us move on to the boys.”

The buzzing ball of anxiety remained in her chest as the escort went and plucked a name from the boy’s bowl, returning to the microphone as he unfolded the slip.

“Our male tribute is… Sullivan Bates! Come on up!”

There was no movement for a few moments before someone began making their way out into the aisle. He was tall and had tan skin, like many others in Ten. He had long, dark hair that was tied into a little ponytail, and he wore a grave expression on his face. Someone in the crowd of teenagers began sobbing, to which he glanced back and said something before he continued. The sobbing slowly became silent weeping, and Sullivan reached and made his way onto the stage.

“Welcome, Sullivan. Is there anything you’d like to say to your District? Or Panem?”

“I’ll be back, just you wait. I’ll be back for you, Nellie.” He looked into the crowd, likely looking for Nellie.

“With the reaping finished, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the tributes for District Ten in the Two-Hundredth and Thirty-Second Hunger Games, Neva Van de Aart and Sullivan Bates!”

Their escort gestured for the two to shake hands, to which they did. Neva gave him a gentle smile and a squeeze of his hand, and he returned a smile and a small nod of the head. They were not here for the same reasons, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t do her best to make the most of the situation. But with the reaping over, now came the difficult part.

Explaining her reasons to her family. To Alden, to Mam. They would understand, though, they had to.

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“How, Neva, how could you be so… so idiotic!”

“Eira, I--”

“What would make you think this, choose to do this to all of us!”

“I can explain, ple--” Neva attempted to say, before another interruption.

“Why, why on earth would you volunteer for a death match? You’re fourteen! FOURTEEN! ”

For the ten minutes allocated for family and friends, Eira had been roaring at Neva for six of them. Her older sister was upset; she understood why, but if she could let her explain, and tell them all her motives, they would understand completely.

Pulling away from their mother, she stood in front of Eira, looking up at the teenager, and told her what had been bubbling in her chest since the screaming began.

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t get it, Eira. You never understand, not this, not me, not anything! Why do you think we fight so much? You never try to see things from my perspective.”

Neva’s voice began to rise and rise until she was yelling, so infuriatingly angry with her sister.

“You know who does understand me? Mam! Mam gets me, and I get her! She knows me better than anyone else! Even though she’s so, so hurt by whatever happened in the past, she always tries to look out for and understand ME!”

At this point, tears were bubbling up, stinging her eyes. She couldn’t contain her frustration any longer.

“If Mam wasn’t around, at least I had Alden to rely on because at least he cared about me and my feelings! He’s the best brother ever; he’s always been there for me! Even when you picked a fight with me, or I picked a fight with you!” She wiped the stream of tears down her face, hands balled together in frustration.

“And now I’m going to the Capitol! And you still pick a fight, still yell at me, still don’t understand me! What I’m doing for our mam, our family! I’m fixing what’s broken; it’s down to me to do this!”

Her voice was wavering and breaking, but she never broke eye contact with her sister, never let her see her worry, and her fear. She was heaving by the end of her yelling, quickly brushing away her tears with the back of her palm. Her sister was seething, but before she could retaliate, Alden ordered her out of the room.

After an unbearably long silence and a poignant stare from Alden, Eira left the room, slamming the door behind her. She was so angry, Eira didn’t even give her the chance to explain herself. She loved her sister, despite the fighting, but she never tried to understand her.

Alden knelt in front of his youngest sister, hands on her shoulders as he looked into her bright, hopeful, yet hurt, blue eyes. His face was serious, brows furrowed in a way Neva knew meant he was concerned. In the distance outside the room, she could hear footsteps.

“Neva, what do you mean by fixing what’s broken? What is so broken that it’s made you volunteer?”

“I volunteered… I did it for Mam, for all of us. To find Aunt Tabitha in the Capitol. If I go into the Games, I can call out to her during the interviews. And if I win, she couldn’t say no to a Victor, if they are her niece. You told me when I was eight that she was alive, she went to the Capitol.”

Her mother turned away, sobbing into her husband's shoulder, inconsolable at this revelation.

All colour drained from Alden’s face as if he realised something horrifying in his sister’s words. He pulled his sister close, giving her a tight hug, his hand at the back of her head. This worried Neva; she didn’t understand why he would be so freaked out by what he told her back then. Was something wrong?

“You will need to be strong once you get to the Capitol, okay? You have to persevere, every day in the Capitol and every day inside that arena. You cannot let them break your spirit, no matter what. I’m going to tell you something, and your spirit needs to stay as strong as possible when listening. Promise me you won’t let it break.”

Footsteps began approaching the room, loud and heavy.

A pit of dread pooled at the bottom of her stomach, gnawing at her in an unfamiliar sensation. Something wasn’t right; there was something she didn’t know that everyone else did.

“I promise I won’t let it.”

Confusion and worry clouded Neva’s thoughts, dread threatening to rip her stomach apart.

“Aunt Tabitha, she--” Alden began, but was interrupted as the door to the room was flung open, Peacekeepers entering and grabbing her parents and Alden.

“No! Please, just let him finish, please!” Neva begged, placing a hand on a Peacekeeper’s arm before being shoved backwards. She just managed to keep her footing, panic filling every ounce of her at all this.

The Peacekeepers were forcing her family out of the room, practically shoving her parents out of the room. A Peacekeeper forcibly grabbed Alden, yanking him out.

“Neva! Aunt Tabitha, she’s not--”

The door slammed shut. 

Neva was left alone in this room, adorned with so many pointless trinkets, staring at her warped reflection in the dark oak doors. What did Alden want to tell her? What if it was something vital in finding their long-lost aunt?

An indescribable feeling of dread weighed heavily over Neva, but she stood strong. She needed to; she had promised Alden she would not let her spirit break. So she wouldn’t let anything deter her; she would refuse to let it break. No what came to be.

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Neva did not like that memory, no matter how recent. Her final goodbyes to her loved ones before she went to find her aunt were filled with screaming, crying, and total confusion. It left her head swirling with questions, none of which she had answers to yet. It was better to focus on the present, on finding her aunt and surviving the Hunger Games.

One thing she knew about was her mentors and their Games, but found that one of their mentors was only a year older than Neva felt weird. Not in a bad way! Just… unusual. But that was the Hunger Games; nobody could predict who would win. She remembered that very few around Ten had faith in Zipporah until the finale. 

Yet she was the one who prevailed.

“So,” Rasha began, interrupting Neva’s thoughts, “Zippy and I are going to ask questions and get to know you both better. It helps us understand who you both are and what we can do to give you the best chances possible. Alliances, strengths and weaknesses, volunteering reasons, everything. Sound good?”

The tributes nodded, Neva fiddling gently with her skirt as she tried not to let all of this overwhelm her. She knew it would be a big change and crazy from the reaping, but she was also still adjusting to all of this.

“Alliances can be helpful in the arena, keep that in mind. They aren’t for everyone but they can give you someone to have your back in the arena, rely on to help when trouble rears its head.” Zippy chimed in, a bright smile on her face.

“You run the risk of getting attached by allying with others, but they could be the ones who are with you until the end. However, you need to be prepared for what the Games will throw at you. The Gamemakers are ruthless, so you need to be ready for anything and everything to happen. I learned as much in my time there.” Zippy’s smile faltered, as if the talk of the Games brought back unwanted memories.

It was hard to forget Zippy’s Games, given how recent they were. How the scar across her face and nose was earned. Neva stifled a shudder at the memory of watching those Games when researching on Ten’s victors. 

But if she could do it at twelve, Neva could do it after fourteen!

“So, I guess my first question is, do you want allies? Would a district alliance between you be an option?” Rasha asked the pair, eyes flicking between the two for any emotion.

“There’s no judgment if you don’t, just so you know! We are happy to keep everything separate.” Zippy added.

Neva took a moment to process things, trying to ignore the static feeling filling her chest. She could keep her cool; she would be fine. This was just intense. It felt like there was a buzzing in her head as she tried to decide; there were so many ways this could go. She had already met four new people today and was soon to meet the twenty-two tributes, not to mention countless Capitolities. She’d be on live television soon, sending her call-out to her aunt, and just like that, she’d be entering the arena, faced with all that came with it.  It was all so different from her bubble at home, her few neighbours, her family, and Buddy and her sheep. She already missed them, everyone…

She turned her head to face the window to watch the scenery zoom by them as they crept closer to the Capitol. Nature always helped that feeling of being overwhelmed, what she would give to feel the flowers in the bushes or climb all kinds of trees they passed. As the buzzing subsided, she listened silently.

“I’m happy to ally with Neva, if she’s happy to?” Sullivan answered, his voice gentle. Whipping her head around to her district partner, eyes wide, Neva stared at him in shock and disbelief.

“Why?” There was a pause before Neva continued, “Not that I’m saying I don’t want to! I thought you would want someone older to be an ally.”

Sullivan couldn’t hide his laughter, finding the shock on her face amusing. He had a nice laugh, though. Hearty, like Aldens. Once settled, he smiled faintly before looking at her.

“You’re sweet, Neva. Brilliantly and genuinely. I overheard your brother yelling about your aunt, so I’m guessing that’s why you volunteered. It’s easy to see the determination in you. Honestly, I admire that, especially since you’re so young too. So, who better to ally with? Someone who wants to make change happen, you don’t see it often.”

Looking down at his tan hands, his smile shifting into a wistful one. Only now did Neva seem to realise just how tired Sullivan looked.

“Plus,” He continued, “You remind me of my lil’ sister. Same age, same attitude. If you want to ally, that’s great! But no pressure. I get that I’m a damn stranger right now.”

Neva couldn’t contain her smile, knowing someone already had her back. Someone who knew what home was like and had lived it. A tiny part of her wanted to stay hidden, untrusting of those whom she didn’t know. But Sullivan seemed genuine; he hadn’t tried to hide his worry at the reaping, and Neva could see the caring look in his eyes as he talked about his sister. In more ways than his laugh, he was like Alden. Strong and confident, but kind and gentle.

It couldn’t hurt to have someone by her side going into the arena, especially someone from home. There were many things that could happen from this alliance. Targets on their backs from the Careers if they garnered too much attention, and sponsors and life-saving gifts from them if they were deemed popular enough. It was so much to think about, yet her heart pulled her towards the right direction.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Okay, you got yourself an ally. But you gotta promise you’ll share half your supplies with me, and mine with yours.” Neva stuck out her hand to her district partner, her bright eyes alight with hope.

“You got yourself a deal, lil’ lady.”

And like that, a deal was struck. Two tributes who would witness horrors within the arena, cruelty and pain. If they had each other’s backs, they could take on anything.

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“What's life like back in Eleven? Any difference to us?”

Neva picked up and ripped off a chunk of bread, dipping it in her soup as her district partner inquired about Daintha's life. They met her while at the trap-making station, where she had complimented Neva’s knack with tying the incricate knots. It took all of yesterday, training to lunch today, for her to finally open up about her life.

Neva, being so focused on getting her trap finished correctly, only caught Daintha's name as they grabbed their food. Despite Daintha’s cool and cold exterior, Neva could see glimpses of who she was.

Someone cautious but caring. Guarded and protective of her home and herself.

“We don’t have much back there, my family at least. Lots of food and plants, and lots of jobs too. But they pay you next to nothing unless you make yourself invaluable. I was hoping to get promoted at my job soon. I have a pretty damn good memory for food and numbers.”

“You never know, if you win, you might find your way to a university in Three, one of those fancy ones.” Sullivan hummed, chomping down on his chicken.

“Yeah, and the Peacekeepers will make me Sergeant while they’re at it.” Daintha snickered, sarcasm dripping from her every word.

“Still, from what we see during Reapings, it looks like a pretty nice district. Bit rough around the edges, but I think any district is if you look at it hard enough.”

“Damn straight. It can be such a shitshow, especially in the city. Bet you know that, though, city boy?” Daintha chuckled, pointing a carrot at the tip of her fork at the Ten boy.

“How’d you know? I didn’t say squat about being from the city!”

“You can tell if you look hard enough. There are two kinds of people who live life in the city, neither of which is great. You’re either full of hope, a total sweetheart who gets their heart beaten the shit out of, or someone with a heart of steel and a total asshole. You, my friend, are the number one.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter, what can I say? I’d rather hope that the world can change someday than live life hating everyone.”

Silence descended as the three tributes ate before a new topic popped into Neva’s head.

“What’s your family like? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“They’re great, despite the shit hand life dealt us. My ma and da have three kids, and I’m the middle child. Two other sisters, and they’re about as stubborn as can be,” Daintha smiled ever-so-slightly as she played with her food, “Miss ‘em like hell. But I’m sure they’re keeping my parents sane while I’m gone. So if they’re staying strong, then I will too.”

“Did you like where you lived?”

“God no, it was a hellhole. Rough and full of crime, but it taught us how to grow thick skin and fight for ourselves quickly. It’ll probably help me once we hit the arena.”

“I saw you against one of the trainers yesterday, near the start of training. You’re good at fighting, like crazy good! What I know about life, sometimes the smartest or wisest people in the world aren’t the people with buckets full of money. Just because you’re rich, doesn’t mean you’ll learn every life lesson there is. How we have lived, normal people and struggling people, it teaches us more than money ever could.”

“Maybe, if you have some time before training finishes, you could show Neva a couple of moves sometime?” Sullivan chimed in.

The request hung in the air for a moment, the suspense of the proposal of what a possible alliance driving Neva crazy. Daitha looked the fourteen-year-old up and down from where they sat, then Sullivan, inspecting them and analysing all their features before replying.

“You’re a smarter kid than people here probably take you for, Neva. Brainy in the way that keeps you alive. Okay, but only if you show me some of those traps we worked on better. Sound fair?”

“Yeah, of course!” Neva beamed, surprised but happily slurping up some more of her soup as she stewed over their agreement. Daintha continued to play with her food, glancing at the young girl across from her.

“I think we would have been great friends if we had met outside of here. In reality, and not inside this stupid reality show.”

“We can be friends, right now. All three of us can have each other's backs, watch out for one another, everything friends do. Just because we are here, doesn’t mean we can’t help each other.” Sullivan answered instead, radiating kindness.

“And when death rears its head?”

“We’ll deal with that when it arrives. Staying in the present is what can keep us alive, from what I’ve learned at home.”

Daintha poked at her food, contemplating Sullivan’s words. The dark-haired, bright-eyed teen looked to her district partner, raising her eyebrows at him in shock, greeted with his silent reply of ‘It doesn’t hurt to try!’ . They all ate their food in silence for a minute before Daintha set her fork down, visibly annoyed.

“This is ridiculous.”

“What, asking about an alliance?” Sullivan asked, confused at her sudden statement.

“No, the Games. Why should the Districts still be paying for and be punished for what their ancestors did over two hundred and thirty-ish years ago? It’s idiotic, and everyone in Eleven knows they keep these going because the Capitol loves seeing the pain and anguish it causes us. They want us to suffer for their entertainment, and it's fuckin’ sickening.” Daintha glared towards the Gamemakers, who were sitting, eating their own lunch up in their gallery.

“If it wasn’t for them, I’d still be home with my sister, getting us ready to leave our Community Home. Life is twisted, and the Capitol is too.” Sullivan muttered, staring down at his food.

Neva followed Daintha’s gaze, watching the Capitolites as they dined on a large selection of food. She felt uneasy, the conversation treading dangerous territory. She wasn’t loyal to the Capitol, but she was also conscious of how the Gamemakers could easily target anyone they deemed rebellious. As her eyes flicked over the colourful men and women, she locked eyes with someone. Not just someone, the Head Gamemaker. He lowered his sandwich, narrowing his eyes at Neva and her company.

The dread that washed over her was indescribable; it left Neva without an appetite and nauseous. Nothing good ever came from being noticed by the Gamemakers.

Sometimes, it was best to keep your head down. But Neva had her mission; she had her purpose for being here. So if her reason or her allies' opinions got her in hot water, she could deal with it. She needed to reunite her family, and she wouldn’t let anything deter her. Not the arena, not the Gamemakers, not even death.

She would heal her family. 

If she didn’t, what was this all for?

Chapter Text

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How quickly the duo became a trio within three days.

Not that Neva could complain, Daintha was lovely and great for conversation. She loved to talk about Eleven and her family, even if her surroundings hadn’t been the best. It was interesting and exciting; she didn’t know too much about any of the other districts besides the basics, and the Capitol wanted to keep it that way. Hopefully, when this was all over, Neva could learn about the districts, maybe visit a few. She knew that Victors were permitted to travel as they pleased, something that some enjoyed more than others.

Despite her defending herself, saying she was treating Neva like anyone else, it was obvious that Daintha had taken a liking to her, a soft spot she welcomed. She was fun to talk to, and she got Neva’s jokes the same way Sullivan did. She just wished Eira and she could be like this, instead of constantly fighting…

Right now, the Tens reached the weapons station, weighing in their minds which weapons they would focus on for their final day. Sullivan decided on a whip, and Neva on a simple, light dagger. Neva found that she worked best with guidance from the trainers and that the lighter and sharper weapons were most effective for her. When she was able to combine them with her speed, she could be deadly. Clumsy, sure, but she didn’t train as the Careers did.

Speed and nimbleness were the qualities the trainers advised her to use to her advantage in the arena. It turned out, through various jobs he picked up around the district, Sullivan was semi-familiar with a whip, which was a win to Neva!

They both paired up with a trainer, in their separate combat rings and readying themselves to fight. Neva reminded herself to be quick, keep moving and dodge to the best of her ability. Just before the whistle was blown, another tribute approached her trainer, asking them both if she could fight Neva instead to help sharpen her skills, too. She was small and thin, close to Neva in age, too. From the patch on her uniform, she hailed from District Six.

Why not? It couldn’t hurt to learn the fighting styles of her competitors, and she could learn more about fighting through another tribute.

With neither having a problem, the two girls readied themselves, and when the whistle was blown, they charged at each other. Their weapons were dummies to ensure no tribute accidentally killed another before they reached the arena. 

Neva, with her dagger, and Six with her shortsword. Six slashed and swung her sword at Neva, most of which she was able to dodge or parry. Slowly but steadily, the fourteen-year-old landed more and more blows on her opponent, slicing and dodging as her life depended on it. Left, right, fake to the right and go left. She fought impressively well for a girl her age.

They were sweating at this point, both trying their hardest to be the one who came out on top. Unbeknownst to her, Six began to notice a pattern in Neva’s attacks and parries. The same thrusts and dodges, the same footsteps as Neva circled her. And, as her pattern predicted, Neva faked diving to the right, aiming to step left and slice across Six’s stomach, winning her the match. Six expected this, sidestepping to meet the young girl at her deflection and sticking her foot out to trip her over. By the time Neva caught on, it was too late, and she was on the ground, Six kneeling on her chest, the tip of the sword touching her throat.

The trainer blew the whistle, announcing Six as the winner of their spar, to which the girl smiled down at her. It was a little too smug for her liking, like she found joy in this. Six made her feel cautious, but for now, she would push it aside.

Puffing and panting, Neva extended a hand up to the girl as she sat up, a silent question of “Can you help me get up?” . Where a normal, friendly person would do so, and they would exchange congratulations before going their separate ways, Six did none of this. She stared down at Neva, her smirk shifting into a grimace, a hint of disgust held within her eyes. Shoving her weapon into the trainer's hands, she turned her back on Neva and approached Sullivan’s sparring ring.

“Was she raised in a barn? Jeez, didn’t think they had barns to be raised in Six.” Neva grumbled to herself as she pushed herself off the ground. Earning herself a small chuckle, she brushed herself off and returned her weapon. Approaching Sullivan’s ring, she found herself standing next to Daintha, who watched Sullivan intently.

He was doing great, wrapping his whip around the trainer's ankle and yanking back, knocking them to the ground. Knocking the wind out of them, too. A glance at Daintha, it was obvious to her that she was impressed by Sullivan, with a hint of something else Neva couldn’t place.

“Looks like your partner isn’t just all looks. He’s got the brawn to go with it, a deadly combo if you ask me.” Daintha commented, glancing over to her younger ally with a smile. Neva giggled, grinning widely as she looked between Sullivan and her ally.

“Aw, does someone have a crush? I didn’t take you for a sap.” She teased, earning her a playful shove from Daintha, who rolled her eyes.

Sullivan continued to fight his opponent, with very few blows missing the trainer or hitting him. He was strong, a real contender for a Victor, especially if he could repeat the same result in his private session. With a dodge of a trident, Sullivan slipped behind the trainer, and he wrapped the whip around the trainer's neck and tightened it. The two froze for a second before the whistle was blown and Sullivan was announced as the winner. 

His two allies applauded him, and He released the trainer. Shaking their hand and wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned towards Neva and Daintha before abruptly being approached by Six. She shook his hand and spoke to Sullivan, saying things neither of the girls could hear over the noise of the tributes' training. It surprised her district partner, whatever she said. Then, he laughed and glanced at Daintha and Neva before his gaze returned to Six and he spoke some more to her. After another minute, the pair began to approach the two girls, and an uneasy pressure weighed down on her. Maybe Six was just having a bad day; everyone has shitty days!

“Hey guys, this is Iggy! She came up to ask about a potential alliance after that, uh, fun fight. I didn’t want to just assume you guys would agree, so I thought I’d introduce you both to her. This is Daintha, Iggy.” Six, named Iggy, shook Daintha’s hand with a bright smile.

“District Eleven,” Daintha told her, smiling back, though she seemed hesitant. Iggy seemed eager, like she wanted her potential allies to view her in the best light. However, once her gaze turned to Neva, she hesitated for a brief moment before extending her hand and plastering an unconvincing smile on her face.

Neva shook her hand, greeting her back politely because she wasn’t a pompous idiot who just snubbed everyone who was slightly rude to her. She knew her mam and Alden would be proud of her for being the bigger person, for being more mature.

“I’m Neva. Ten.”

“Iggy. Six.”

With that brief, awkward interaction finished, Sullivan continued, “Iggy told me, and proved, that she can be pretty stealthy. It could be pretty damn useful in the arena, and pretty strong for her, considering she’s fourteen. I’m happy for her to join, but I want both of your inputs too.”

Glancing at each other in silence but unable to provide a valid or legitimate reason for Iggy not to join the alliance, the two girls acquiesced. After all, those skills could be useful, and maybe Iggy and Neva had just gotten off on the wrong foot today.

“Welcome to the alliance!” Sullivan clapped Iggy on the back, positively grinning from ear to ear at their newfound friend. Despite his happiness, Neva was weary. It was unspoken between them, but once they hit the arena, Daintha and she would be watching the Six tribute closely, ensuring there was no ulterior motive behind her late addition to the alliance. 

As they all moved onto other stations, Sullivan happily chatting away, Neva was sure she caught Iggy glancing at her with the same smug grin from their combat. It didn’t sit well with her.

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Brushing out the last few strands of her dark hair, Neva’s stylist admired their handiwork, adjusting her bejewelled hairband as she did so. She had to admit, she had done a brilliant job, Neva looked amazing! They had designed a scarlet, off-the-shoulder dress, with a bewjewelled belt to match her hairband. Her makeup was minimal, just enough to enhance features like her eyes, the blue standing out brightly when paired with the red. With the help of a curling iron and a brush, her usually straight her was now wavy, making her feel she could be seventeen, like Eira, with how mature she felt. Even if all her stylist’s comments made her feel the opposite.

“A girl such as yourself needs to look as perfect and innocent as possible, in the Capitol,” They told her, picking off a stray thread from the dress, as Neva tried to ignore her intense dislike for the comment, “at your age, you need everyone to believe you cannot harm. When you do, it’ll shock your competitors and the nation!”

While part of her wanted to combat that statement, Neva decided against it. She did not need to piss off her stylist and end up in front of the nation looking like an absolute mess, not when her aunt would be watching.

“And stand up straight, you look all awkward and shy when you stand like that. Nobody is going to want to sponsor a socially awkward-looking teenager; you need to sell the role if you want the Capitol to believe in you.”

While her face flushed a bright scarlet to match her dress, Rasha entered the room, quickly shooing the Capitolite out to prepare Neva for the questions she may be asked in her interview. She silently thanked the universe for sending one of the two mentors, letting out a sigh of relief once the stylist was gone. Through the mirror, the two made eye contact, which Neva quickly broke. She turned her eyes downwards, looking down at her shoes while she fidgeted with her hands. It felt like a wave had crashed over her, the reality of the interview sinking in and utterly overwhelming her.

“You can relax, Neva. Everything is going to be fine.” She heard Rasha tell her calmly as her footsteps approached her. “You are going to be great. Your call-out to your aunt is going to be brilliant, she’s going to get in touch with us afterwards, and you’ll have the sponsors that come with that moment too.”

Glancing up to inspect her reflection once again, it shocked Neva how truly dressed up and fancy she looked. She had only gotten so dolled up for super special occasions, and even then, they didn’t touch how she looked now. The dress was made with material more expensive than half the stuff in Neva’s room, she’d bet on it. It didn’t lessen the overwhelming and strange feeling that buzzed through her body, seeing herself dolled up to look her most innocent and sweet.

The red was nice, though; it was a pretty colour mixed with her pale skin. She could almost see herself as a pretty little doll, one that a wealthier neighbour near home would have. The emotions that came with that can of worms didn’t feel good, so she shoved them down for the time being.

Rasha brought her out of her head and back to reality, resting her copper-coloured hands on Neva’s shoulders. With dark hair not unlike Neva’s, part of her wondered if she would look like Rasha if she made it out alive. Strong, determined and steadfast. It was almost difficult to imagine a time when she was once Neva’s age.

“How do I make the Capitol love me? I’m just… I’m scared my aunt will see me, and she doesn’t want anything to do with mam or the family. I’m terrified if this is all for nothing.”

Neva's voice was quiet, hesitant and wavering, exposing the intense fear and worry she felt. She wanted to be strong; she wanted to remain as brave as all the Victors she had seen. But in this moment, between one of her mentors and herself, she felt like the terror she felt was going to consume her whole being.

“From what I’ve learned from all these years, it is to stand tall and proud. Hold your head high and act like this world is yours and yours alone. Never let them see your fear because that's what they want. This evening is going to go fine, I promise. You will do your call-out to your aunt, she will be touched to her soul, and I can bet she will reach out to us by tomorrow morning. You’re a good soul, Neva. Anyone can see that, and your aunt will too.”

Her mentor’s words brought Neva some comfort and reassurance. She could do this; she’d follow Rasha’s instructions to a tee, keep trucking onwards. Yet, a tiny bead in her chest nibbled away at her.

“I miss my family,” She admitted, shyly glancing around the room, “I miss my mam the most. I wish I could see her, all of them, one last time. Give them the tightest hugs. It sounds silly since I chose to be here, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss them any less.”

Rasha’s eyes softened, understanding her tribute’s longing. Moving her hand, she gently rubbed Neva’s arm as she smiled at her, an action so motherly it made Neva’s chest hurt.

“I’ll tell you what I told Zippy not long before she went into her Games. This is all for them, your family. When you win and return home, you will be able to give them the biggest hugs and the best present a family could want. Keep them in your mind when in the arena, they will be your drive to survive there.”

The Ten girl smiled widely at Rasha’s inspiring words, nodding and placing on the brave mask she would need to wear for the rest of her time here. If anyone knew how to help her survive, it was Rasha and Zippy. The speaker in her dressing room announced that all tributes were required to be at the stage wings in the next five minutes. Neva turned to look at the exit, feeling that bead of anxiety starting to bubble in her chest, but Rasha took her hand in hers and squeezed it gently.

Such a simple and small action, but one that was all the encouragement Neva needed.

With Rasha close behind, Neva walked confidently to the left wing of the stage, repeating to herself silently that she had this in the bag. Rasha said her goodbyes, required to be at the opposite wing for her tribute interviews. With Sullivan in front and Daintha behind her, they were all the company she needed to keep settled and calm. They both looked amazing, and it wasn’t long before Sullivan was called up to the stage and his interview was underway. His positivity and sincerity always managed to make her smile. With a small admission that he had a crush on one of the tributes, the crowd was alight with curiosity and gossip, and the interviewer, Silvanus, was alight with such a juicy confession. Whether that was genuine or a tactic Rasha concocted, she wasn’t sure.

Soon, Neva was waiting in the wings, the seconds ticking towards her interview, feeling wildly confident and completely out of her depth at the same time. Emotions were complicated and weird; she hoped they got easier to deal with as she grew. Behind her, she could hear running, someone clearly in a rush. She glanced over her shoulder to discover that it was her mentor. Zipporah, in a wonderfully deep navy jumpsuit, rushed towards Neva, holding various folders containing many sheets of paper and looking out of sorts.

“Zippy? What are you doing here? Aren’t you meant to be with Rasha?”

“I have to tell you something, like super important! This… damn, this is going to change everything about your stance, Neva!” Zippy panted, trying not to drop the folders she cradled in her arms.

Concerning swelling inside her, worry began to spread. Nothing good ever was revealed moments before something like this. The same dread that had overwhelmed her in the Justice Building in Ten washed over her now, the situation eerily mirroring the one with Alden.

“Has something happened? Is something wrong?”

“It’s your aunt, Tabitha. Nobody must have told you, stupidly didn’t make it clear before you decided to volunteer, but she--” The buzzer rang through the air as Sullivan’s interview ended, signalling it was time for Neva to get moving. Zippy grabbed her hand, sheer panic and worry flooding her face.

Loud and flamboyant, Silvanus’s voice announced Neva was out of time with Zippy.

“Everyone, I am honoured to welcome our next tribute, small but mighty, Neva Van de Aart!”

She couldn’t delay; if she were even slightly late, it could ruin her chances and the impression she needed to set for the Capitol and her aunt to be behind her. 

Neva pulled her hand away from her mentor’s and walked out onto the stage and in front of a huge audience. The lights shone down on her brightly, and with all the thundering applause, she couldn’t help but freeze for a moment, everything too much to handle. Silvanus looked too eager, the crowd was too loud, the lights were too bright, and the cameras were too close. She couldn’t do this; she needed to run, hide, be anywhere but here. As if a whisper in her ear, she heard Rasha’s words once again.

Hold your head high and act like this world is yours and yours alone. Never let them see your fear because that's what they want.

This is all for them.

Neva pasted on her biggest, most confident smile and waved to the crowd, quickly approaching the interviewer to make up for her moment of terror. She shook his hand before the pair took their seats, and the interview began.

“It is wonderful to meet you, Neva. You’ve surprised us, here in the Capitol. Volunteering, a training score of six, you have proven yourself to be quite the contender at fourteen!” He winked at her, which Neva tried to ignore.

“Hah… yeah, I guess you could say I’m full of them! Keep my parents and siblings on their toes at home.”

“And is there many of you at home? Anyone you hold dear?”

“My family is big enough, but I hold all of them dear. Especially my mam though, I love her more than anything. I’d do anything for her.” Neva was doing her best to keep cool, roll with the punches.

“How sweet! I must say,” The lavender-themed Capitolite said, changing topics, “how wonderful yet surprising it is to see a volunteer as young as yourself! After all, there’s been so much mystery as to why you did it since the reaping, with that little tease of yours!” The crowd laughed, some whooping in hopes of a grand reveal of her volunteering reason.

Neva shrugged, holding herself with as much poise and confidence as she could as she spoke. “I kept it that way for a reason. I couldn’t reveal everything immediately; where would the fun be in that? I wanted to keep it secret so that when we reached this, everyone would be tuning in. I’m hoping this interview will reach someone special. Could I address the cameras for a second?”

Surprised but enjoying this build-up to the secret reveal, the interviewer nodded her approval, his smile a little too wide. Like he knew something Neva didn’t.

“Ten is all I’ve ever known. I love my life there, I love my home, my family, my dog, and my sheep. It’s pretty much out in the sticks of the district, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. But something was never quite right, because something, no, someone has been missing. My aunt Tabitha came here long ago, and my mam has missed her so much. She talks about her all the time; she misses her so much it hurts. I want to say to my aunt, if you’re watching this inter--” Unexpectedly, Silvanus chimed in, cutting Neva off before she could continue her speech towards her aunt.

“That is quite a sweet story, Neva. It’s clear family is quite important to you, which is why we did some research into your family history. As we do with all our tributes, of course. What we discovered revealed some interesting facts. Would you care to know?”

Neva’s heart fell to her stomach, and that sense of dread was so intense she felt like it was suffocating her. The audience cheered, all desperate to know these all-important facts, whereas the fourteen-year-old wanted to run as far away as possible from here. Frozen in fear, Neva could do nothing but wait.

“Your aunt was in the Capitol, at one point in time. You see, Neva’s aunt Tabitha was here in the Capitol thirty-five years ago! Though not under the same surname, I’m sure those diehard fans would recognise Neva’s aunt’s name, Tabitha Varocco. A previous tribute in our Annual Hunger Games!”

Gasps filled the air, and Neva felt like she was suffocating.

She needed to throw up, the world felt like it was spinning. Was this what Alden and Zippy had tried to warn her about?

“Uh, is she a Victor that lives here? I know some do choose to.” She laughed nervously, glancing over the interviewer's shoulders to try and find her mentors.

“Well, she did seem like quite the competitor before the arena, very promising. But, no, she is not a Victor. Far from it, if I’m being honest. She was the first in the arena to die, rather brutally by the hands of a Career, if I remember correctly! I imagine if she’s anywhere, she’s in some graveyard in her district.”

The world began to blur and sound muffled as the interview continued onwards, while Neva’s world silently came crashing down in flames. She nodded and hummed occasionally, but she couldn’t focus, couldn’t make sense of anything Silvanus said, besides those damned words repeating over and over in her mind.

The first to die.

The first to die.

The first to die.

The gut-wretching realisation finally clicked in Neva’s mind that this was the horrible truth to her aunt. Alden and Zippy tried to stop this from happening, yet fate had decided it was best for all of Panem to watch her crumble. It didn’t take much longer for the buzzer to sound, and the interviewer laughed, thanking Neva for such a ‘fun and interesting interview’.

“After all, familial relations in the past or current Games always make for fun in the arena. Even if their demise wasn’t so wonderful!” He cheered, gesturing to Neva one last time before she was sent to the ring wing of the stage, behind the curtains and to her seat where Rasha, Sullivan and Zippy sat quietly, in utter horror.

“Neva, are you okay? That-- he’s a wicked prick for dropping something like that!” Sullivan questioned, concerned for his ally.

He got no response, as Neva continued to stare down at the floor. It felt like her chest and head were about to implode. How could she have been so stupid? So naive to believe her aunt was living happily in the Capitol as someone who was District. Now she paid the price, risking her life for someone who had been dead for decades, who had died in this very event, about to face the worst horrors of this country.

Overcome with despair, anger and shock, Neva could do nothing but let her tears fall silently down her face, unable to stop them from cascading as she wished for one thing.

She wished she could have talked to Mam and Alden one last time, tell them she loved them and would never forget them. She had made her bed coming into these Games, naively hoping her aunt would be there to fix her family, and now she would have to lie in it.

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The timer slowly counted down how long until she entered the arena. Sitting here, alone, silently watching the numbers dwindle, she found it hard to stomach the fact that she was about to face the bloodbath. But she refused to let anyone sense her unease and dread.

The same dread that followed her from the moment she set foot on that stage in District Ten. Followed, lingering over her like a ghost from the past. Maybe it was Aunt Tabitha, desperate to warn her from making this mistake.

Everything would change once they entered the arena. Life wasn’t going to be the same, Neva accepted that. It already wasn’t, in her case. At the back of her mind, so quiet it could barely be heard, a voice told Neva:

You’re going to die in there.

You will die just like your aunt.

First to die, and brutally.

Neva refused to wallow in pain or self-pity; that emotion had long been left behind. What sat in the centre of her chest, burning bright, was anger. She wasn’t going to die first; she wasn’t going to die full stop . She wasn’t going to let people pity her for being foolish or naive; she was going to show the world what she was willing to do to get home.

Yes, nothing would be the same once she left the arena, but all this wasn’t for Tabitha, then it was for Mam.

She was going to see her mam again, see all of her family again.

“Fifteen seconds left until launch. Please enter your tube.”

Standing up, she couldn’t put her finger on the arena’s theme. They had her in a flowy beige shirt, paired with a red knitted cardigan and a shin-length skirt. Standard boots like she’d seen Eira wear back in Ten, doing jobs. Whatever the arena was, at least she had something that might keep her a little warm.

Neva approached the tube, glancing around the bland room one last time and entered the tube, which hissed closed behind her. Fear, horror, and dread bubbled in her stomach, threatening to have her breakfast make its return. 

“It’s all for them.”

She gritted her teeth and swallowed, forcing all of those feelings down, down, down until they were nothing more than a tiny seed of worry. Looking up, Neva could see light, bright but not blinding. That was reassuring, to know there would be day and night cycles. Hopefully, anyway. As her pedestal began to ascend, she took three deep breaths, each one longer than the previous.

Take it day by day, hour by hour.

Sullivan had told her that the night after the interview, in hopes that he and Daintha could comfort her.

“Day by day, hour by hour,” Neva repeated to herself as she crested over the lip of her pedestal. Blocking her eyes from the light, she observed her new surroundings.

They were in a massive, grassy opening, surrounded by trees of all kinds. Trees that looked near alien, with glowing or strangely coloured veins running through them, foliage of all colours. Some had fruit and flowers that looked just as strange. At the centre of the opening was a cornucopia crafted from a purple gem, meticulously carved to resemble all previous cornucopias. Supplies were scattered across the opening, some only a few feet away, others dangerously close to the centre. Weapons were placed there, at least the deadliest kinds, silently calling for the tributes to take them.

A strange arena, otherworldly-like, but human enough to resemble a forest of some kind. Strange-looking fruit, glowing veins in trees and flowers, all kinds of coloured foliage, what did that add up to? Seconds ticked by before it dawned on Neva what their arena was.

They were in a magical forest, possibly enchanted. 

And if the theme was an enchanted forest, all of the tributes were in for a bitch of a ride that would be the Hunger Games. When Gamemakers attempted to imitate magic, it never ended well for the tributes. Neva couldn’t let it tear her down, so she spoke under her breath one last time.

“This is for you, Mam.”

Chapter Text

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Neva could feel herself trembling, feel her hands shaking from a variety of conflicting emotions. But she needed to focus on the plan they had set in place, so she scanned the circle of tributes, desperate to find her allies.

Daintha was quick, almost directly across the opening on her pedestal to the west. She found Sullivan and Iggy with a pedestal between them, positioned to the north, offering a decent view of the weapons and supplies in the Cornucopia. With a scan of the area around Neva, she found that the green plush grass had bags scattered across the opening, all of various colours and holding different supplies. One bag caught her eye in particular, one that was mere feet away from a Career who was four pedestals away from her.

It looked like the Career, District One, if she remembered correctly, was laser-focused on the weapons at the centre of the field. Reading her body language, she seemed ready to go instantly once the gong sounded, meaning if she didn’t trip over the bag or didn’t try to sweep it up, it could be hers. She tore her gaze back towards the hologram, not wanting to make her plan overtly obvious to her competitors, watching as the countdown reached its final round.

Nodding silently to herself, confirming her plan in her head, Neva readied herself to run. Her heartbeat was thumping in her chest, and she could hear it pounding in her ears. Adrenaline was pumping through her, but she forced herself to breathe calmly.

5…

4…

3…

2…

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the Two Hundred and Thirty-Second Annual Hunger Games begin!”

Neva would have found Silvanus’ voice grating, had she not had bigger priorities. She bolted from her pedestal, grinning widely to herself as her assumption about the Career had been correct. The blonde had dashed instantly towards the centre of the bloodbath, leaving Neva to sweep up the bag she had left behind. She swung it over her shoulders and hid behind a pedestal, letting the bloodbath continue as she tried to pick out where her allies were. With no sign of them anywhere near her, Neva skirted around the edge of the opening, around the back of the Cornucopia. She couldn’t see Daintha, Sullivan or Iggy, and her anxiety was beginning to spike, but she shoved it down, continuing to look for allies.

There she was! 

She saw her in combat with another tribute, struggling by the looks of it. Neva wasn’t going to lose her allies this soon. She darted towards them, thinking of nothing but helping Daintha. They were battling for a machete and a bag, and Neva didn’t hesitate before bringing her foot into the back of the tribute’s knee, dislocating it, judging by their cries of pain. A quick slash across the chest, crimson pooled around him, and their enemy went limp. Neva did her best to stifle the vomit rising in her throat.

“You’re a lifesaver, Nev. C’mon, we need to find Sullivan and Iggy and get our asses out of here.” Slinging the bag over her shoulder, the pair prepared to distance themselves when they heard yelling coming from the centre of the cornucopia. Yelling of familiar voices, their allies' voices.

They ran towards the gem-carved cornucopia when Sullivan and Iggy bolted around the corner of it, both signalling to turn around.

“Let’s go, now! We’ll be murdered if we don’t!” Sullivan yelled, taking Neva’s hand in his as he ran so she wouldn’t fall behind.

And so the alliance ran, and ran, and ran. Dashing as fast and for as long as they could, the Careers quickly gave up hope on chasing their targets. They stopped only when Daintha and Neva pleaded for them to stop, unable to catch their breath while running. Sullivan checked on them, giving them water from his bag to help them collect themselves, while Iggy begrudgingly watched. It felt like her lungs were on fire, like she was burning from the inside out, but with time, they both began to catch their breath, and they agreed to some recuperation.

As she began to take in her surroundings, Neva found that the arena remained just as alien-like, the mushrooms and floor covered in a glowing blue dust. Glowing blue veins crawled up the tall, strangely coloured trees, and bushes were filled with flowers she had never seen in her life. She looked through the bag she had snagged, finding a dagger, three packets of beef jerky, and a bag of nuts inside, which made her feel relieved to see, as remaining weaponless left her feeling exposed. Once she turned her gaze back to her party, that was when she registered what her two allies had escaped with.

Sullivan held his bag, which she had seen slung over his shoulder, but he also bore a whip, and Iggy a pocket knife. What was a seed of fear and dread began to shift into frustration and anger as she frowned at the pair.

“That’s why you were running, why you went into the middle of the bloodbath. For weapons.” She pursed her lips, doing her best to soothe her annoyance. “You do realise you could have gotten yourselves killed? Or that we have targets on our backs from the Careers now? I know you meant well, guys, but that was totally reckless, so much could’ve gone--”

“We got the weapons, didn’t we? We need them in a place like this to survive, Neva. So, you should be thanking us; now we all have a way to defend ourselves, instead of taking turns doing so. We have potentially saved our lives in the future because of napping these.” Iggy interrupted her, retaliating with her usual attitude.

“You were both fuckin’ idiots for going into the thick of it. It was reckless and downright stupid to risk your lives for a pair of weapons.” Daintha chimed in, scowling at the pair, particularly glaring at Sullivan. Neva could see the hurt in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it.

“Listen, we’re sorry, guys. Yes, it was stupid, and we probably shouldn’t have done something as risky as that, but it was worth it in the end, right? We made it out alive, we’re still here, that’s what matters.” As ticked as she was, Neva wasn’t in the mood to argue with her ally, rolling her eyes at him but agreeing that that was what mattered. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, just don’t pull that shit again, please. We want you here as long as possible.” She gave Sullivan a side hug, who grinned and pulled her into an even tighter hug, gently patting her back.

“See? No harm done. It worked out in the end.” Iggy said flippantly, fiddling and playing with her pocket knife as Neva pulled away from her district partner.

Daintha approached Sullivan, frowning deeply at him as she looked him dead in the eye. For a moment, Neva thought she was going to swing at him, but instead she grabbed him roughly and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Pull that again, and I’ll whip your ass with that damned whip. I want to talk later, you and me.” She mumbled, the relief evident in her voice.

With grievances out of the way, the party trucked on, walking through this alien-yet-human-like forest. It was full of bright, unusual colours, bearing both fruits and flowers that left Neva unsure of what was and wasn’t edible. Exploring the forest, they listened to the cannons of those fallen in the bloodbath shoot off, eight in total. Neva counted her lucky stars that all of them had survived, doing her best to ignore that death was inevitable. 

Later that night, the group set up camp, not lighting a fire in fear that the Careers might find them. Maybe if they got even further from the cornucopia tomorrow, they could light a fire, enjoy the heat that came with it. With two sleeping bags between the three, Neva and Iggy were given them since they were the youngest, which Neva both felt guilty and thankful for. As three of them slept, rotating between watches, Neva found she was restless. 

It felt weird, lying on the plush floor of this wooded arena. She was proud that they had all survived the first hurdle, but now came the rest of it. So, as she looked up at the stars in the night sky, she watched as they twinkled. She could recognise some of the constellations, even if the stars weren’t all the same colour. Neva knew well they were only imitations of the real thing, but she found some strange comfort in watching them; it brought her a calmness.

Wherever you are, Aunt Tabitha, I hope you’re watching over me.

I hope you’re proud of me.

Her aunt may have perished in this same tournament, but it drove Neva further to survive. She had her family, her pets, everyone she loved back in Ten, but she also wanted to keep her aunt’s memory alive.

Maybe if Neva won, people would remember her, and in turn, remember her aunt. For the amazing, kind person she was. She didn’t know her, had never met her beyond the tales spun about her around her kitchen table. But in this moment, Neva felt close to her aunt. She would do this for everyone at home, but for Tabitha, too. It ignited a flicker of possibility inside her, a spark of hope. All she needed to do was survive; that was all she needed.

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They had been travelling through the arena for the better part of a day, and there seemed to be no end to the forest. Passing all kinds of plants and fungi, it felt slightly uneasy not to have come across any animals. It was too still, too silent in that aspect, but it wasn’t hard to adjust to the silence. They filled it with their quiet chatter, all four talking about their lives back home in their districts, what they thought would be the next thing to face.

By evening, they settled for making camp inside a massive hollow oak tree, finding it would help provide shelter if the weather were to change. They lit a fire outside the tree, ensuring there were no tributes nearby. It was mainly for warmth, to soak it up before the cold of the night soon set in.

Neva sat inside the hollowed oak, observing how, despite being hollow, the veins of blue through the bark made it evident that it was still alive. Growing tired, and with Sullivan and Daintha on watch, she riffled through her bag. She pulled out a packet of beef jerky, taking two strips for herself to chomp on. After all their walking today, it was deserved. It was tough and chewy, but it was food, and that’s what mattered. Sitting in silence, besides the occasional slice through the air from Iggy, the two girls didn’t bother each other.

That is, until Six spoke.

“They value you. Quite a lot, from what I’ve seen. Hah, it’s almost like you're their sister and their kid at the same time.”

Neva ignored her for a moment, putting away the jerky container while Iggy continued to fidget and flick her knife around. Neva would admit she was damn good at it. But that statement had thrown her off guard; she hadn’t expected it. Once her stuff was packed away, she shrugged.

“They’re like an older brother and sister to me. They look out for me, and I do the same. They’ve had my back up until now, so I’ll always have theirs. I’m sure they feel the same about each other.”

“ Suuuure . Look outside the tree and tell me those two see each other as siblings.” Iggy scoffed, continuing with that stupid, smug attitude.

Neva moved over, getting on her knees to peer outside their shelter. Night was approaching, the pinks and oranges in the sky turning to purples and navy. Sat on a log in front of their fire, faced away from them, Sullivan and Daintha sat together. 

They were discussing something intense, judging their expressions. But then Sullivan cupped Daintha’s face, looking into her eyes and stopped speaking. They watched each other, and she smiled at him gently. 

Wow, they either really love spending time together or they have massive crushes on each other.

Neva thought to herself, waiting to see what would happen. Then Daintha leaned in, kissing Sullivan gently.

Neva jumped back, planting her back against the solid surface of the tree, her face bright scarlet at what she had witnessed. That was certainly a private moment that she should not have seen or known. She had intruded on a very romantic situation that definitely did not concern her, and now, she was going to be so awkward around them, oh god… She cringed, still bright red, and Iggy didn’t hide her laughter at Neva’s awkwardness.

“God, are you nine? You’d swear they were screwing right here, right now! Grow up, it’s just a bit of making out!”

“Whatever, they can do what they want, I don’t care.”

Neva rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to flip off her ally and inspecting her dagger with great detail. God, she felt embarrassed that she saw them kissing; it felt like an intrusion. But it reminded her of the dread that haunted her. 

(Would it haunt them to? Would Neva’s haunting ghost of dread be the demise of her entire group?)

She shoved that thought down, deep down, and forced herself not to touch that thought with a ten-foot pole. She couldn’t let herself think them, couldn’t let it chip away and tear down her spirit, she so desperately needed to hold onto to survive. She made a promise to Alden, and she was going to keep it.

So deep in her thoughts, in inspecting her dagger, she realised only now that Iggy had stopped doing tricks with her pocket knife. Neva found her looking out their wooden shelter, frowning.

“Romance of a kind in the Games always leads to hurt. Relationships, friendly or not, always end in pain. Everyone knows that, and if they think they can ignore one or both of them'll be dead by the end of this; they’re idiots.”

“Quit shit-talking them, Iggy. The world’s hard enough to live in without taking away the small loves we treasure. Yeah, it’s the Games, but this could be the only time they will ever share those feelings again. So, try not to be a pessimist. If you make the effort to know people, know us, you might make real friends. It might do you a world of good.”

Iggy fell silent after this, returning to her knife tricks before calling it a night and heading to bed

Neva wasn’t being bitchy or sarcastic; she was telling Iggy the truth. Bluntly, but Iggy was strong enough to take it. She may not always agree with her ally, but Neva wasn’t idiotic enough to not sense the dislike between them. However, she acted that way for a reason, caused by someone from Six. She wouldn’t judge her, but Neva wasn’t fond of her either. But they could make it work; they had been so far.

As the last flames of the fire died out, Neva thought about all that had happened, the cannons that had shot, and tucked herself into her sleeping bag. Three cannons had blew over the day, each a signal that she grew closer to going home. But taking one last glance at her friends, Neva felt anxious. Daintha and Sullivan, taking watch together. The pair looked content with each other’s company. 

She hoped all this would last for a little longer. For their sake.

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“She’s useless, she doesn’t contribute shit to this alliance!”

Roused by the not-so-quiet whispers of Daintha, Neva was groggy and confused. Why were they arguing? Were they not meant to be taking watch? What little of what she could see of the sky showed her it was already past their set time for watch changes. She began to shift, readying to get up, but froze as she heard a chilling voice.

“She’s a danger to the alliance, guys. And, honestly, we’d be better off without her. Why would we need deadweight who could get us killed?”

That was Neva’s voice. Her voice.

The hairs on her neck stood as she took a silent but deep breath, reaching for the dagger that she kept with her while sleeping.

“We should kill her, put her out of her misery and clean our hands of this mess.” Her voice said, leaving Neva feeling sickened. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep calm to figure out what to do next.

She silently removed herself from her sleeping back, hidden behind the large oak tree’s hollow walls. She crept over towards the opening to the shelter, peering around it as minimally as she could and felt like she was going to barf right here, right now. Stood by the snuffed-out fire, three figures stood. 

Daintha, Sullivan and Neva.

This was the arena; they had to be mutts. From her knowledge of what she knew, it wouldn’t be the first time the Gamemakers would trick tributes with false versions of themselves. She immediately knew that, though they looked like her friends, they were far from it. They were trying to cause trouble, seeking to cause issues in their alliance. She peered further, spotting the real Daintha and Sullivan passed out against each other.

Please let them be okay. Not yet, please.

Gripping her weapon tightly, she flicked her gaze back to the mutts, conjuring a plan about how to not get killed. If they were mutts, people at that, then they couldn’t do much damage, right? The thought was interrupted by all three of them and their sudden silence. As if they had sensed her, all three faced Neva’s direction, grinning widely. Their clothes, the hair, the skin, everything began to shift and change until stood before them were three pale grey figures in tight dark grey clothes.

Who had once been her, grinned at Neva, her milky white eyes piercing through her as she raised a finger to her mouth. Without warning, they bolted away, making unnaturally little noise as they did so. Neva ran, moving without thinking, but all three had slunk into the dark, dimly glowing forest. She scanned the area around them, but with no sight of anything else, she shook Sullivan and Daintha awake.

“Guys! Guys, please, wake up! Wake up! “

Groggy and confused, the couple roused and sat up straight, squinting at their young friend.

“Nev, what is it? Why are you here? It’s- fuck, it was our watch.”

“Mutts invaded the camp! They were,”  Neva took a breath, calming her nerves before continuing, “They looked like all of us. No, Iggy, but they were the split image of us all. I think they were trying to imitate us to turn Iggy away from us. She isn’t awake, not last I checked, but… we need to be careful. Especially during our watches.”

She gave them a serious but understanding look, knowing that they were as exhausted as Iggy and she after all their travelling. Sullivan was pale, horrified by the result of their slip-up.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m okay. Just… both of you, go rest. You need it, we can all talk in the morning. I’ll take watch, I don’t think I can sleep anyway after that.”

Sullivan wanted to protest, but obeyed, unable to argue with his friend. Daintha, however, remained with Neva through her watch, silently stewing over the information. Trying to figure out how to bring it up tomorrow as a group.

As she looked out at the dark woods, wildlife full of all colours, Neva felt sick to her stomach. She couldn’t shake it, so she let it sit there until it was time for them to gather up in the morning and carry on.

Whatever the day held for them, Neva didn’t want to know. The Gamemakers liked to cause drama, to haunt and mess with the tributes. She had a feeling those human-like creatures were the spawn of the Head Gamemaker, especially for them. Not the most comforting thought, but she carried on, acting as if all was normal.

Family and home, she told herself repeatedly, replaying her goodbye to Alden in her mind a thousand times.

She would see her brother again, no matter the cost.

Chapter Text

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“They are wonderful companions, once they get to know you. Love scratches too, they’re almost like big woolly cats. Also, you’ll never guess where they have scent glands, Sullivan! Guess!”

Neva was in her element, chatting away happily about animals she loved more than life. This flurry of information had started not too long after they left their previous camp. Sullivan loved listening to her facts, trading a few of his own about cows. The district partners were happy to yap away about all things livestock, to Daintha and Iggy’s dismay.

“Uh, I’d imagine their noses, right?”

“Yes! But not just there, in their hooves too! Crazy, right?”

“That's so cool, damn… I gotta find sheep one of these days. Cute lil’ guys once you get past the rectangle eyes.” Sullivan chuckled, content to bond with his ally over their home.

Silence fell over the group, Neva taking this chance to take in their surroundings more. They had stopped to rest here, a large pond surrounded by willow trees, with the same alien-esque colours as the rest of the arena. The pond was beautiful, a clear and pristine turquoise with the first wildlife they had seen in the arena in the four days since it began. The fish looked like fish, but some were almost metallic or crystal-like in appearance. 

She imagined they were edible and they’d probably catch some to take for dinner. Something that wasn’t beef jerky or nuts was music to Neva’s ears. The sun peeked through the forest canopy, sending streaks of light down onto their party and the pond. Daintha had been listening, quietly watching the pair chat with a hint of a smile on her face. Iggy was sulking close to a wide willow tree, scowling at them. Three cannons had shot over the morning and afternoon, and Neva pushed away her worries as the end drew closer.

“And get this, when they--” Neva started.

“Oh my GOD, nobody fucking cares, Neva! God, nobody here gives two shits about you or your sheep facts, so SHUT UP!” Iggy screamed, face beginning to go red at her sudden outburst.

“Iggy, what are--”

“So you’re trying to pretend like two nights ago didn’t happen? I heard all THREE of you talking shit about me! I was awake the whole fuckin’ time, listening to you all talk about how useless I am!” Iggy was yelling loudly, and she was quickly being overcome with emotion, raging like Neva had never seen her ally before. She would draw attention to them if she weren’t silenced soon.

“I saw from the day I joined who took priority. Neva. It’s all about Neva, how sweet and brave she is, how sad and upset she is over her dead aunt. I have never been enough since I joined because nobody has truly trusted me. Do you know how that makes me feel? Worthless, wasting my potential for some Ten girl who’s desperate to grab everyone’s attention.”

“Iggy, calm down. We can explain, I wasn’t sure when the right moment to bring it up, but you matter just as much as everyone here. That night wasn’t what it seemed.” Sullivan said, approaching her. 

This seemed to wind Iggy up even more.

“LIAR! You are fucking liar , Sullivan!” Iggy screeched, now crying and seething. “You care about them more than me! What’s even worse than loving Neva is you love that bitch more than me! Nobody- nobody has ever loved me, put me first!” 

She pointed to Daintha, who was startled and horrified all in one expression.

“What happens between us is none of your business, Six,” Daintha told her coldly. “But you’ve had your place with us. We accepted you as one of us, Sullivan makes that clear. But it isn’t enough for you. You need everyone’s love towards you, you’re so desperate to be loved, it's terrifying.”

Iggy glared daggers at Daintha, who remained stoic and strong. Neva was like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to say or do. This wasn’t going to end well; she could sense it.

“Honestly, I pity you, Iggy. To think there aren’t people who love you.”

“You pity me ? You should be apologising to me, all of you, for saying such vile things, and maybe I’ll think about letting you all leave alive.” Iggy marched over to Daintha, squaring up with the tall Eleven tribute.

“I am not apologising for shit I didn’t say. If you used your stupid mind and let us explain this, you’d understand that. I’m sure as shit not gonna be able to take on all three of us.” Daintha laughed out of frustration, more than ready to fight the teen.

“It’s funny, really. Daintha, in denial. And Neva, who looks like a deer in headlights. Don’t you got anything to say now, Neva? You sure were talking shit before, ready to kill me. After all, that cuts one less problem out of the perfect world of Neva. ‘Oh, I’m here to find and save my aunt, how brave and noble I am!’, when in reality, you’re just too idiotic to do proper research. You know what, I should--”

“Enough!” Neva yelled, hands balled into fists, “We have been patient and kind since you joined, Iggy. It wasn’t us. Whatever you heard, it is a fucking lie. Shapeshifters who looked just like us appeared, trying to stir the pot like it is now! If you would shut your goddamn mouth, you’d find out that they weren’t us. But instead, you use it to push your narrative that we secretly all hate you and want you dead. “ Neva continued, not yelling, but speaking loud enough to assert herself.

“You didn’t get love back in Six, that sucks. But we have accepted you since training. You need to take accountability for building up this narrative that Daintha and I are somehow the demise and downfall of being loved, because we aren’t! You cannot blame us for whatever happened in your life.”

Iggy looked startled, retreating to the willow tree. Neva had struck a chord somewhere enough to leave her in stunned silence. This silence didn’t last, though. Through all their yelling and fighting, they had failed to pay attention to two tributes silently approaching their resting spot. Who now revealed themselves, blocking their direct route away from this pond.

Neva’s heart dropped to her feet once she recognised them. The very tributes Rasha had advised avoiding. Careers.

Stood, covered in blood, were Felicity and Venus. One and Two, grinning at them wickedly. Neva’s party were guarded and had their weapons drawn instantly, their fight abandoned. Neva did as she had entered the arena, her three deep, long breaths. A glance at each of her allies made Neva realise Iggy had vanished.

You fucking coward, Iggy, she thought to herself, her blade pointed at their enemies. Her blood felt like it was boiling.

Felcity watched Sullivan and Daintha, her expression growing malicious as her eyes met Neva’s. She approached her, and Neva backed away, heart pounding.

“Back off, One. Don’t step one foot closer to her.” Sullivan demanded.

“Or what? You’ll all kill me? I’d like to see your try.” She began to circle the trio, unknowingly drawing their eyes off Venus.

“We all know you both have a soft spot for the girl, Nina, was it? Anyway, if she can capture the hearts of two pretty good contenders, there must be something special about her. After all, we all thought it was her aunt until that bombshell dropped.”

Felicity twirled her trident in her hands, analysing all three of them but leaving Neva for last. She smirked at the fourteen-year-old as she continued.

“It would be a total shame if something were to happen to her. A little, precious gem to this dysfunctional alliance. But your buddies stole what was ours, Nina. So it’s time we repay the favour.”

Neva yelped as a sudden and rough yank from the collar of her shirt, threw her backwards and slammed into the body of Venus. He forced her to hold still, pressing the blade of his scimitar into her neck.

“You must have thought you were so brave and honourable volunteering to find your aunt, huh? Sweet sentiment, I’ll admit, but you should have known this place would never have helped you find her.” Silently, Neva moved her dagger, hiding it from the view of the Careers. ”It would just lead to your death, the same as hers. A Career, brutally killing another member of your family, like history repeating itself. It’s almost poetic.”

The hair on her neck stood, the dread that followed her through all this weighing down on her heavier than ever. She couldn’t die, not just like her aunt had. She couldn’t put her mam through another loss. She refused to.

Sullivan lunged for Venus without warning, fury covering every inch of his face. He yelled, raising his whip, but was cut short with a deep stab to his thigh with Felecity’s trident. He screamed and collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg but looking to Neva with concern and terror. Daintha kneeled to her partner’s side, panic filling her eyes.

They were going to kill them all; they were going to make the trio suffer before they allowed death to take them.

“Please, don’t hurt her, please ! I’ll do anything, we both will!” Sullivan pleaded, his voice breaking in the process.

“Tut tut, not a smart move to make, Ten. After all, it’s not just you who’s paying for your mistakes now.” 

Venus taunted, beginning to draw the scimitar down, leaving cuts along her shoulders, arms and legs until he reached the top of her right knee. He ignored the pleading from Neva and her allies as he did so, but seemed to find great joy in his next action.

“Can’t run away if one of your legs isn’t working, right?”

Panic flooded Neva a second before an immense amount of pain did. Venus sliced deep across her knee, aiming to cause as much damage as possible. Neva screamed in agony, begging for the Career to stop, that she’d give him any of their supplies, anything. What began to scare Neva the most was the loss of feeling that arose, slowly creeping down her leg.

“STOP! If you want someone to kill, it’s me! I told Sullivan and Iggy to steal from you at the bloodbath, okay? I told them it was worth the risk because you wouldn’t catch us afterwards. If there’s anyone who should be paying for their mistakes, it is me.”

Daintha was lying through her teeth, so desperate to save the pair from Ten, she would risk her own life.

“Give me your worst, not them.”

“Daintha, no, what are you doing?!” Sullivan cried, trying to grab her hand to stop her from facing the Careers.

A glint of excitement passed through Felicitiy’s eyes, sizing up Daintha and her fake confession. Sullivan looked distraught, torn between saving the girl he loved and the girl whom he saw as a sister. Silence hung in the air until the Career laughed, grinning as she twirled her trident in her hands yet again.

“Honourable of you to take her place, I’ll give you that. More guts than most outer districts have, too. I’ll make sure it’s quick.” She spoke cockily, like this was all according to her sick plan. Like she was gracious for giving Neva’s ally a quick death.

Neva struggled, but Venus’ grip tightened, her right leg almost giving out from under her. Sullivan tried to stand up to block the attack that Daintha awaited. The District Ten tributes cried out at the same time, their hearts shattering into millions of pieces as they did so.

“NO!”

The trident was lodged deep in Daintha’s stomach, her blood staining her pink caridgan and skirt, deep red spreading across her shirt. She yelped in pain before collapsing once the trident was pulled free, gripping her stomach.

“Please, don’t do this!” Neva begged as she sobbed, but Felicity’s trident was buried in Daintha’s chest by the time she finished. Her cannon shot in the air moments later, ringing in Neva’s ears as a reminder that Daintha was gone forever.

The dread that had haunted her since the reaping lingered over her, but now, it was changing. Morphing and twisting violently until it was nothing but hot, seething fury. Burning her chest, her eyes, her blood. She was furious. At the world, at Iggy for not intervening, at these bastard Careers for Daintha’s death, at all that had led up to this very moment.

She screamed in pure rage, yanking her arms free and slashing down Venus’ midriff with her dagger. Her dagger was buried in his chest, right over his heart, in the blink of an eye. Tears stung her eyes, burned as they rolled down her face, but she did not care, didn’t want to care. All that mattered was saving Sullivan, avenging Daintha.

“You little bitch! I’ll teach you who’s in charge, you brat.” Felicity growled, turning to Sullivan and grinning sadistically as she drove her trident into his back. He didn’t see it coming; he had been weeping over Daintha’s body.

Neva saw red. Her body was moving, her dagger was back in her grasp, and she wasn’t thinking.

She charged at the Career, despite Sullivan’s yells to not, slicing and dodging every way she could. She was moving so fast, striking so brutally, it was making her dizzy. Neva knew she couldn’t keep this up for long with her leg. Felicity saw an opening, however, and grabbed Neva by her throat, cutting off her oxygen as she glared down at the fourteen-year-old.

“I will not die to some outer-district country hick, let alone let you take out two Careers. You die here, you brat. And after you, your little friend.” Felicity raised her trident, holding Neva tight despite her squirming.

Neva froze, terrified, before a whip wrapped around Feliclity’s wrist, preventing her from giving her killing blow. She screeched in fury, and Sullivan locked eyes with Neva’s, blood dripping from his mouth as he shouted.

“NOW!”

Neva didn’t think, didn’t need any more encouragement as she sliced at Felcity’s arm, releasing her. She drove the dagger into her chest, just like Venus, and released it only when she collapsed. Neva could see the rage in her eyes as she died, but paid no attention to it. She rushed over to her partner, holding him up as best she could from where he now lay on the ground.

In his state, Neva knew he was past the point of return. So, she laid his head in her lap and held his hand, ignoring the blood that stuck to them both. Sullivan smiled weakly up at her, squeezing her hand gently. Just like she had done during the reaping. It made her heart ache; it was gut-wrenching.

“Never forget how amazing you are, Neva. Despite everything with your aunt, you persevered. You’ve looked out not only for your family, but for us too, and we will always be thankful. You are strong, and I hope my sister can follow in your footsteps someday. Don’t let this place define you; carry that kindness you’ve always had with you everywhere. It’s what the world needs to make true change.”

Streaks of tears poured down Neva’s face as she held her ally, her closest friend here, as he left this world. She sobbed as his cannon shot, her grief indescribable. She couldn’t stop apologising, wishing things could be different. It startled her when a twig snapped, revealing Iggy as she finished descending from the willow tree, horrified.

Burning hatred filled Neva. Iggy was the reason they were attacked, the reason her friends were corpses. She was shaking in rage, leaving Sullivan and running at Iggy, pummeling her until they were both in the pond. She blamed Iggy for everything, for her hate, for her negativity, everything she could. Iggy’s blood began to swirl and coalesce in the pond, tainting its pristine turquoise to a bright crimson.

Iggy begged for forgiveness, for mercy. Pleading with Neva, she had brothers back home who needed her. Neva held her head under the water, her fury so intense she felt nothing would suffice it. None of it mattered, not until Iggy was nothing more than bruises, blood and silent. Her cannon sounded moments later, and Neva sat in silence, staring at the scene before her until a booming voice echoed around the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Victor of the Two Hundred and Thirty-Second Hunger Games, Neva Van de Aart!”

What? This had been the finale, were they the final tributes? 

Fuck, so much had happened, she hadn’t had time to even think about how many tributes remained. Looking up through the colourful leaves, into the bright, sun-filled sky, Neva let out a shaky sigh. She was covered in blood, hers and others mingled together. Crimson covered almost every part of her, sticking to her for far longer than when it would be washed away. 

She would be haunted for years to come by the horrors of the arena. Of Daintha and Sullivan’s deaths, the sound of flesh being sliced and pierced, the sounds of Iggy’s bones crunching under her fists… It would take work, and help from her family, Rasha and Zippy. The journey felt endless and impossible, Neva at the very beginning of it all.

Despite all this, she thought of home. Her mother and father. Her older brother and sister. The comfort of seeing them, hugging them so tightly they might pop, getting their advice, and so much more.

“I… I made it. I’ll see you soon, Mam.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Dawn in District Ten was breath-taking. 

Watching in the early hours of the morning, light returning to and waking up creatures who slept, it brought a warm and comforting feeling with it. Neva Van de Aart sat on her porch swing, gently swaying back and forth as she soaked in her surroundings. Buddy was with her, sleeping soundly at her feet. Another dog lay asleep on the porch swing, her head resting in Neva’s lap as she absentmindedly stroked it.

Alden suggested adopting her not long after she returned home, hoping she might be able to support her as an emotional support dog. Someone to keep her company and help her if nobody was around. It only felt right to name her Tabby, a little nod to their aunt. Buddy and she had been mistaken as siblings more than once, both being border collies. Neva was hesitant about the idea in the beginning, but once she met Tabby, all hesitation melted away. Buddy and her clicked instantly, playing and jumping about whenever Tabby wasn’t needed for emotional support.

Moments like this, silent and peaceful, were the ones Neva appreciated the most. Especially since moving to the centre of the district, a bustling and thriving city. She was sure it was nothing compared to Three or Six, but it had been a strange change nonetheless. She missed her home out in the country, but her mam told her she could come over as much as she liked. The Capitol was particular with Victors, binding them legally to move from where they once were to the Victor’s Village. She could bring whoever she pleased with her, though.

Eira had been shocked when Neva asked her, as if she hadn’t been the first to hug Neva on her return from the Capitol. Whatever they had before, it changed after her return. They fought sometimes, but Eira understood her more now, and vice versa. Alden had been asked not too long after to help ease his worries about his youngest sister. She had a new reality to adjust to, both the trauma of the Games and her new prosthetic leg. The leg was something Neva was still adjusting to, no matter how high-tech it was. The Capitol told her they ‘give the best to the best’ , and she was grateful for it. It didn’t stop her from missing what had once been there.

It brought comfort having him back home, though Neva was well aware it was temporary. Once Eira turned eighteen, it would be up to her to help look out for her, though Neva could do so pretty damn well.

The porch door creaked open, and Neva jumped, startled by the noise. The Career’s unexpected entrance had left its mark on Neva, but she was learning to live with that. She settled once she saw Alden, holding two mugs of something hot. He handed one to Neva, revealing it to be a hot chocolate with mini marshmallows in it. The warmth of the mug was grounding, helping her nerves settle once more. Moving Tabby’s sleeping butt up, Alden sat down with his little sister, placing Tabby back down so she could sleep on them both.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Neva questioned.

“I made you jump, plus it sounded like a pretty restless night. Thought I’d make some hot chocolates and join you out here, so you won’t have to be alone.” Concern was woven through his tone, his worry evident.

“I’m fine, Alden. Rough nights happen. I just thought watching the sunrise might help calm me down.”

“It’s okay not to be okay, Neva. If things are starting to get--”

“Alden, I talk with mam and Eira, like, twice a day about all this, daily. And you, too, sometimes. I’m working on things, and I’m recovering day by day. Have faith in me.” She looked to her brother, her gaze telling him all he needed to know.

I’m fine and just not sleeping great. Not everyone needs to know my thoughts and feelings.

“The nightmares are back, though, aren’t they?” Alden took a sip from his mug.

“Yeah,” Neva sighed, “It’s nothing new, happens when I’m more stressed. With the Victory Tour next month and all, it’s no surprise.”

“You’re talking with your therapist about it all, right?”

“Yes, Alden, my overly protective big brother, I have.” She mused in a sing-song tone. “I’m adjusting, it takes time and routine. Besides, I have a new friend who’s been super helpful in adjusting; she’s awesome and surprisingly funny.” Neva smiled to herself, feeling the same rush of hope when she thought about her friend, about the future and life.

“Who? Zippy?”

“No. Though Rasha and her have been awesome for support outside the family. I think they both get how brutal and hard life can be during and after the Games. My friend is someone new. Her name’s Clover.” Neva almost burst out laughing at the confession that befell her brother’s face.

“I don’t know a Clover, how’d you meet?” Ever curious, Alden sought details.

“Hey, girl! You ready to go be lil’ shits or what?” 

A female voice called from the fountain by the entrance to the Victor’s Village. A girl with dark hair and dark eyes waved at them, earning a grin from Neva. She took one big gulp of the hot chocolate, then stood up and woke up Tabby to accompany them.

“This is your new friend in question? She looks a bit familiar…”

“Clover is Sullivan’s little sister. We started talking a month back, mainly about him and about their lives and mine. From there, a friendship just… bloomed. We get along great, she’s fun and wild in the best ways.” Neva grinned and placed down her mug on the porch floor, preparing to leave.

“Neva.”

She turned to him, and he pulled her into a tight one-armed hug. She hugged him back, never one to deny a hug from him. When he pulled away, he smiled softly at her.

“I love you, Neva, and I’m so proud of what you’ve dealt with and overcome. Sullivan would be too. Of both of you.” His eyes flickered over her shoulder to her waiting friend before returning to her.

“In the Capitol and the Games, what drove me was family. To find Tabitha, come home to Mam, you, and everyone. It helped me survive and keep fighting, despite everything that happened.” She beamed at her brother, leaving her porch and looking back at him one last time.

“I think now, it’s time to start living for myself. I’m working on growing and accepting, but now, I want to live, not just exist.”

Neva ran to her friend, giving her a tight hug before running off to do who knows what. She was at peace, and that's what matters.