Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the eyes of District Two’s upper echelons, eightieth decade of Hunger Games had been one of many unworthy Victors. From a conniving, disgraceful archer to a frail drug addict, from a Reaped great-grandchild of a Victor to a bully from the cloth slums, from a lowly field worker to a silent ranch boy. The latest, a loudmouthed teen from District Seven, had heaped insult upon injury with his vocal scorn towards the Career pack of the Eight-Ninth Games.

The last properly trained, truly loyal Victor had been from District Four and had won the Eighty-Second Games; Two’s last Victor had won the year before that.

“Unacceptable,” the Academy board members, all former Victors, would proclaim in the hearing of anyone and everyone. “Disgraceful!”

Clytemnestra Cairn, Victor of the Thirty-Fourth and headmaster of Steelcliff Academy, said little compared to the others. For decades, she had always had the last say on Two’s volunteer tributes, and as the Ninetieth Hunger Games approached, she had a perfect specimen in mind for the female slot.

Crete Clayson would serve his purpose and have a reasonable chance; Brutus was partial to the boy, after all. But it was Eve Charades that Clytemnestra had her eyes on. She had been watching that girl for years.

Beautiful, with her dark hair and stone-gray eyes. Tall and swift and strong. Smart, charming, obedient. Loyal.

Clytemnestra saw gambling as a waste of time, but privately thought that if she ever could bet on one of her tributes, it would be Eve.

District Two children going to the district’s training academy was normal. Rich parents paid the entry fees with no hesitation. Children of poor parents could earn themselves a place free of charge if they were gifted enough. An Academy education, provided the student receiving it didn’t get expelled or accidentally killed, all but guaranteed respect and employment opportunities after graduation. For example, a considerable portion of the Capitol’s top Peacekeepers were graduates of Steelcliff.

Of course, all that paled in next to the honor of being chosen to compete in the Games.

The Charades family owned a shoe store and were far from rich but not quite poor. Clem and Pyra always could have afforded to send a child to Steelcliff if they wanted, but for a long time they didn’t truly consider the possibility.

Their son Elias was born with a badly malformed hip they could not afford to have fixed. Their daughter Eve, born not quite two years later, became their hope for helping Elias and gaining a better life.

They scraped together the entry fee and sent her to the Academy when she was ten. From the start, she excelled. She was intelligent, observant, both level-headed and fierce as needed. She also turned out to be naturally ambidextrous, giving her an advantage when it came to using many weapons.

She did talk back to instructors a few times in her first year. Headmaster Cairn personally oversaw her punishments, and after a few months, she never misbehaved again.

For Eve, passing the “final test” to be approved as Two’s first-choice volunteer seemed easy.

To everyone else.

Her twin swords, her favorite weapons, had never felt so heavy. 

The Ninetieth Reaping went smoothly in District Two. The fourteen-year-old girl whose name was called didn’t even have to take a step before Eve called out the near-sacred words. She mounted the stage in a pretty floral dress that had been her mother’s, her head held high and a smile on her face. She did finger the silver four-leafed clover pendant hanging around her neck while the escort moved onto the boys, but otherwise showed no signs of nervousness. Crete Clayson soon joined Eve on the stage, looking very handsome and strong, and Clytemnestra was pleased.

Eve and her brother didn’t cry during the family goodbyes. Their parents did.

Watching the recap on the train later confirmed that the Reaping had gone smoothly in every district. Nobody volunteered in any districts besides One, Two, and Four. No disturbances occurred, and the only real standouts among the outliers were the powerful-looking boys from Ten and Eleven.

The girl from One stood out most of all, though. She all but danced onto the stage after calling out “I volunteer!” in her high, melodious voice. Her elegant, shimmery white-and-silver dress helped set off her shining green eyes and unusual-for-One dark hair. She bantered easily with the escort, smiled brightly for the cameras, waved happily to the crowd. Next to her, her gorgeous, muscular district partner seemed somewhat average at best. 

“Allura is the one to watch,” Clytemnestra told Eve. “The Capitol will love her charisma. But I doubt she is as strong as you.”

“So what do I do?”

“In training, in the Arena...Keep her close, watch your back. In front of the Capitolites…Do not let her outshine you.”

That last instruction proved to be difficult to follow.

District One had been lucky enough to get the famous duo of Cinna and Portia as stylists that year, and it was impossible to beat the magnificent, ancient-Egyptian-inspired costumes Prince Debonair and Allura Zircon wore for the parade. District Two’s sleek, blue-accented black armor was excellent, but not enough to outshine the Ones.

Afterwards, on the ground floor of the Training Center, Eve bumped into the boy from Eleven and had a moment of almost-fright as he silently glowered down at her from his formidable height. Then he stepped around her and walked to the nearest elevator.

During training, when she wasn’t subtly vying with Allura for control of the Career pack, she watched that boy and the male from Ten as they often displayed their strength without even trying to show off.

“They’re important to take out early,” she told the other Careers. “Especially the Eleven boy.”

Tide and Siren from Four agreed immediately, but Allura said, “I think the Ten boy is more dangerous. He’s quicker.” Her district partner and Crete all but clamored to back her up.

Eve let it slide, along with multiple similar incidents over the course of those three training days, but only because she didn’t want to wake up with a knife in her back too early into the Games.

She and Allura both got tens in their scoring sessions. The only other person to get a score so high was the boy from Eleven.

“Remember to be charming,” Clytemnestra told her during interview prep. “Use that toothy smile of yours.”

“I won’t be as charming as Allura.”

“Bah. She’s faking it most of the time. You don’t have to.”

Eve just nodded.

Her prep team were most of the way through getting her interview-ready when her stylist stormed in, wailing about being upstaged. “I had the perfect red dress for you, perfect ! But I just learned that that One girl will be wearing red! Unacceptable ! I will not be accused of copying Cinna like everyone else! We need a backup plan!”

Eve went to the interviews wearing a black dress studded with diamonds and onyx beads. It was stunning.

Allura’s strapless scarlet gown with gold embroidery and matching opera gloves was much more so.

The girl from One always had the very first interview, and Caesar Flickerman brought up Eve almost right away. “You two tied for the highest training score...Clearly you are both very skilled, so what was that dynamic like in training?”

Smile looking wide enough to break her face, Allura said, “Well, it’s been a bit uneasy, but we’re committed to work together at the start of the Games. Still, she’ll surely be a formidable opponent in the end…” She trailed off into giggles, and Caesar and the audience laughed along with her.

Eve kept her expression unreadable as the cameras turned on her, and as she went through her interview with as many smiles but fewer laughs than Allura, she said of her temporary ally, “I’ve always been happy to admit when others are as skilled or even more so than me, and Allura has been very impressive in training.” She let her smile become a smirk. “But training and the Hunger Games are two different things.”

“And you believe you’re prepared for the Games?”

“I know I am.”

Not that she’d ever had a choice in the matter.

Chapter Text

This year’s Cornucopia sat upon a broad dais of cracked stone amid a massive circle of crumbling ruins reminiscent of those from ancient Rome or Greece. Beyond the half-missing walls, a rugged, windswept landscape stretched to towering gray cliffs that marked the edge of the Arena.

During the Bloodbath, Haymitch Abernathy was the first mentor to leave his station in the Mentor Room, his tribute being the first to fall. He didn’t leave the room entirely, however; he only moved over the next station to join Katniss Everdeen, pulling out a flask as he went.

Both of Three’s tributes fell next, Beetee and Wiress leaving together without a word. Colt Tanner of Ten punched the nearest wall and stormed out as his tribute fell, soon followed by twenty-year-old Lee Anders as both Sixes went down. District Six’s other two living Victors, Linus and Axela, were nowhere to be found that morning. The last mentor to leave that day was Percy Jules from Five.

As the death recaps finished playing and the bodies were finally collected, Clytemnestra and Brutus exchanged pleased smiles. Crete had killed both Threes with little more than one blow, and Eve had not only had the first kill of the Games, but had taken down the potential threat of the District Ten boy and two more besides.

The Ones had only taken down one tribute each, something Clytemnestra was happy to remind arrogant Gloss Beaumont and his pet Elegance Devereaux of. “Allura must not be that motivated...a single twelve-year-old outlier before she moved on to the supplies? How bold .” She chuckled to see Elegance clenching her jaw.

She didn’t bother to gloat to Four’s mentors; their tributes had almost managed to take down the boy from Eleven before he fled, after all. If the girl hadn’t taken that blow from the Eleven and the boy hadn’t gotten distracted by the Sevens…

While the Careers patched up their few injuries and began sorting their supplies, Clytemnestra allowed herself another smile. Seven dead. Not a terrible Bloodbath. And Eve proved herself today. I was right.

With the support of Crete and Prince, Allura convinced the pack to start the hunt northward first.

Eve wanted to go south after the trail of the District Eleven boy, but relented in order to prevent a fight, despite the implicit backing of Tide and Siren.

The Capitol commentators had a so-called "field day" with that situation.

A few hours into Day Two, Katniss got up from her mentoring station and walked out, stone-faced, as her thirteen-year-old tribute gasped out her last tortured breath.

“Allura got to take out another helpless child without a fight,” Clytemnestra muttered, just loud enough for Elegance to hear. She got an icy glare in response.

Eve did get a good, bloody, brutal fight from the District Eight boy the Careers found the next morning. Her district partner got the girl from Five a few hours later, before the pack circled back to the Cornucopia for supplies and rest.

Day Four saw the death of both Sevens, both ripped to shreds by twisted, gray-skinned “demon” mutts near the western edge of the Arena. Meanwhile, the Careers finally went south, crossing a crumbling bridge over a shallow river than ran more or less west to east across the Arena’s diameter. On Day Five, Eve easily took down the girl from Ten along that river’s bank; hours later, after Siren had gone ahead alone to scout, the male tribute from Nine took them by surprise and managed to stab Crete before Prince took his head off with a swing of his sword.

Eve was helping Crete with his injury while the others set up camp under a twisted pine tree when another cannon went off. A short while later, the anthem played and Siren’s face was in the sky.

District Four’s mentors were not happy. Siren had volunteered to go scouting, and had managed to cross path with Ruta Acres from Eleven, who had been working his way north along the Arena’s eastern edge, easily killing a few demon mutts along the way. He quickly finished the job he had been unable to at the Bloodbath.

Despite being displeased at her tributes losing an ally so early, Clytemnestra couldn’t help but feel a bit smug as well. Eve was right: They should have gone after the Eleven boy first.

Day Six was a day of no casualties; the Careers spent it returning to the Cornucopia and regrouping. Early on Day Nine, as they headed west, a cannon fired for the girl from Eight, killed by mutts. Later, Eve and Prince took down the allied girls from the Nine and Eleven, respectively.

They camped in a grove of pines further north that night, but none of them slept well.

No one left in the Mentoring Room slept, either.

Allura got up first the next morning and stabbed Crete in the back.

The choking noises he made as he died woke the others up in seconds, all reaching for their weapons. Panicked, Tide attacked Prince, injuring him before falling himself. Eve slashed the suffering One boy’s throat before turning to Allura.

It was a longer fight than Two’s Victors would have wanted, and a shorter fight than One’s Victors would have liked.

The “core rivalry of the Games”, as the Capitol commentators had taken to calling it, ended prematurely as Eve walked away from the fight, mostly uninjured, wiping her twin swords clean of Allura’s blood as another cannon fired.

Day Nine dawned with only two Victors left in the Mentoring Room: Clytemnestra Cairn and Chaff Fallow. The Gamemakers turned the skies gray with clouds, only allowing the sun to shine down on a single cluster of boulders and trees between the remaining tributes’ positions, marking a clear spot for the finale.

“May the best tribute win,” Clytemnestra said graciously to Chaff as both Eve and that Eleven boy approached the boulders.

The one-armed Victor just snorted and took a swig of alcohol from the bottle he held. Ruta was well-armed from the Cornucopia and still going strong; thanks to several sponsors, including a particularly generous and anonymous one, he had not wanted for food or other supplies during the Games. He had a better chance than many of Eleven’s Reaped children.

But Eve had years of training behind her, and she was slightly more agile. She did take several blows.

Yet Ruta took more.

The voice of Claudius Templesmith’s daughter rang through Panem. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the Victor of the Ninetieth Hunger Games! I give you...Eve Charades of District Two!”

Back in the Capitol, watching her battered tribute being helping into a hovercraft, Clytemnestra laughed out loud. Finally! We have another worthy Victor.

Chapter Text

For the Games recap and Victory Ceremony, Eve’s stylist put her in the beautiful crimson gown with black accents that had been intended for her pre-Games interview. Her Victor’s crown ended up sitting atop dark hair braided up intricately, interwoven with red ribbons studded with tiny rubies. Her makeup, though kept simple, emphasized her large eyes and pretty lips.

She wished they had let her wear her four-leafed clover pendant, her token from home, but her outfit came with a much more ornate ruby and diamond necklace.

“It’s a cute token, but it’s so plain!” her stylist said. “It’s hardly fitting for a Victor at her Victory Ceremony!”

Having it got me through the worst nights in the Arena. Especially the last one. “My brother gave it to me,” was all she said aloud. When I went away to the Academy, he gave it to me for luck.

She did get to wear it during her final interview; it went well with her periwinkle-gray dress, or so her prep team said.

Afterward, on the train home, Eve realized that she didn’t actually remember much of the Games recap, or the coronation, or the party after, or her interview.

All she could remember clearly was right after she got out of her recovery room, when Clytemnestra gave her a perfunctory hug and said, “You did well. I knew I chose a good one.”

Similarly, when the train pulled into the station in District Two and Eve prepared to face the crowd, Clytemnestra came up to her and said, “Your entire district is proud of you. As am I.”

I don’t know my entire district.

Her parents did seem proud despite their tears. Again, like with the farewells, she and her brother didn’t cry. But their hug was extra long nonetheless.

Elias doesn’t seem proud, though.

She, her parents, and her brother all moved into a house in Victor’s Village. Because she now had more money than she knew what to do with, her parents were able to hire more help for their shoe store and take more time off. Her mother spent quite a bit of that time helping Eve with with her Victor’s talent: growing and “training” miniature trees.

Elias’s malformed hip was operated on by a Capitol-trained doctor while Eve was on her Victory Tour. When she returned, trying to hold on to memories of warm welcomes in One, Four, and the Capitol instead of the cold silence of the other districts, the first thing she noticed was that her recovering brother didn’t seem happy.

Wasn’t this what he always wanted? What we all wanted?

A few weeks later, she came home from a party at another Victor’s house to find her parents gone to a friends house for the night and her brother packing.

“What is going on?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Why? I was hoping…” I was hoping we could spend time together like when we were young, before the Academy. I hoped we could be close r. I hoped I could get to know you better. “Where will you go?”

“I have a friend I’ll stay with until I can get my own place. Don’t offer me your money. I don’t want it.”

“Why? I have more than I need, you could…”

He cut her off. “Eve, you’re my sister and I love you. I’m glad you’re alive. But I don’t approve of how you got that money.”

As he met her gaze with eyes so much like her own, she found that she couldn’t form an answer.

I don’t know you at all.

After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again. “I’ll pay you back for my surgery when I can.”

She managed a response to that. “That will take you years.”

“Doesn’t matter. I have to do it, for my conscience.”

“So...you don’t...approve of the Games.”

He looked almost sad. “No, Eve, I do not.”

Isn't that treason? “...I don’t understand.”

“I know.” Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of my things. Also, I left a note for Mom and Dad, so don’t worry about that.”

As he reached the doorway of his bedroom, she said, helplessly, “But Elias…”

He paused and faced her again. “How much are the children of Panem worth to the Capitol, Eve? How much are they worth?”

She didn’t have an answer, and he knew it.

He turned and walked out with less of a limp than he’d ever had before.

Other than sporadic family gatherings, Eve didn’t see him much after that.

Eventually, as she grew older and wanted more privacy, she would buy her parents a house and would have the Victor’s home to herself. She had a lot to do in the Capitol during every Games season, and in Two she still found things to occupy her time. She lived the life of a Victor well.

Yet, in quiet moments, often just as she drifted off to sleep at night, a tiny voice in the back of her mind would say, How much are the children of Panem worth?

It would be about nine years after her victory before an answer emerged that she...and the rest of Panem...could not ignore.