The sirens of the Capitol stirred from their rest, signaling that today marked the commencement of our training. Reflecting on the events of yesterday with Coriolanus and perceiving a hint of kindness from him had heightened my anticipation. I was eager to delve into the details of his plans for me within the arena. Would the training be a personalized one-on-one session, or would it be part of the opulent yet somewhat ignorant tours that we were accustomed to enduring before the actual training sessions?
Upon rousing from last night's restless sleep – if one could even call it that, given Jacob's incessant snoring – I found myself contending not only with his disruptive sounds but also the relentless whining of a fellow tribute expressing homesickness. Despite my own yearning for home, I endeavored to conceal the negative emotions with thoughts of the good times. Desperately, I sought to recollect my mother's stories and the laughter that echoed around our dinner table. I recalled my aunt's words, affirming how fortunate I was to be in the Capitol. If only she knew the truth...
Observing the various tributes stirring awake under the gentle rays of the sun filtering through Panem's clouds, I couldn't help but notice the contrast to my initial day here. Today unfolded as a gray and rainy day, a stroke of luck for us all since the day's training was scheduled indoors. If our mentors could also manage to avoid their obligations, it seemed that today's weather was favoring everyone, myself included.
While the suggestion was made for us to have breakfast earlier than usual, many of us chose to take up the offer. Surprisingly, it was this proposal that prompted some tributes to rouse from their slumber, transitioning from mild irritation to the realization of their growling stomachs. Not to forget that it was known for some mentors to taunt them with meager amounts of food. Had it not been for Coriolanus's act of kindness the previous day, I might have assumed that a few pairs of envious eyes would be fixated on me for the rest of the evening after my modest feast – a realization for which I was genuinely thankful, given my current position.
"Miss Swan." A voice, sharp and tinged with my own fear, summoned me while I checked on Jacob, reciprocating the concern he had shown for me earlier that morning. A Peacekeeper approached me carrying a tray, its color matching the red hue of the Academy's uniform, prompting me to ponder if red was the Capitol's predominant color. "Yes?" I responded, attempting to quell my apprehension by focusing on the simplicity and formality of the Peacekeeper's uniform in contrast to mine. In all honesty, witnessing the differential treatment meted out to the Peacekeepers in comparison to us stirred a slight sense of envy within me. Yet, observing their adept handling of social interactions, including the unexpected call of my name, hinted that perhaps I was still fortunate to be confined within the Capitol's world.
"Mr. Snow has made it clear that you will be having breakfast today, ensuring you are well-fed before training." Came the unexpected announcement. My eyes widened in shock, finding it almost too good to believe. Attempting to express my gratitude, I found myself speechless. The Peacekeeper, perceptive to my unspoken thanks, understood the genuine desire to express appreciation for yet another kind gesture, one I couldn't let pass unnoticed. Before I could convey my thanks, and just before the Peacekeeper departed, he made a subtle indication, signaling an important detail that Snow had mentioned. "Mr. Snow also specified no sharing this time, not even with Jacob." He pointed out, directing attention to Jacob, who exchanged a knowing look with me, as if he understood the kind of person I truly was. It was as though I was expected to devour the entire buffet practically on my own, especially with no cameras from outside the Zoo to monitor us. Expressing my thanks once again, this time with a clearer nod, I acknowledged, "I'll return the tray once finished."
"No problem." I responded, anticipating the Peacekeeper's departure. As he lingered, I couldn't help but feel a heightened sense of discomfort, aware that my indulgence in proper food was being observed by both him and the tributes, who likely hadn't experienced such meals for days. Breaking the silence, the Peacekeeper reiterated, "Mr. Snow said, no sharing." Placing added emphasis on the directive. Seeking clarification, I asked, "Meaning?" Attempting to downplay the situation, although the Peacekeeper's presence intensified my unease. The realization that my initial plan to share the food with Jacob had slipped my mind only added to the discomfort. The Peacekeeper clarified, "Meaning, I'll be overseeing once you finish eating."
Fuck. I could feel Jacob's muscles tensing beside me in a matter of seconds. "Are you kidding me?" His frustration not only became more apparent but, with an empty stomach and who knows how little sleep, it seemed like he might snap if it weren't for the presence of the Peacekeepers. "What about us, then?" He voiced what the other tributes were likely thinking, and, reluctantly, I had to agree. In the grand scheme of things, it was wise not to rock the boat and be the first to face consequences. All for the well-being of my mentor.
"As I mentioned, your meal will be here shortly." The Peacekeeper maintained the same unwavering tone. Surprisingly, his authoritative voice held even more weight considering the power dynamics at play, with him alone standing between us and any form of defiance. It was evident that he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if challenged, to the detriment of both the tributes from our district and the mentor in charge. Before any rebellious thoughts could form, the Peacekeeper's attention shifted to me, a silent directive to start eating before the food cooled. I complied, spurred on by Jacob's second complaint. "Yes, Y/N. Eat it before it gets cold." Came a motherly admonition, accompanied by the subtle laughter of the tributes, reflecting their shared sentiments about the situation.
Savoring each bite of the delectable Capitol cuisine, I couldn't help but emit a small, involuntary moan of pleasure. Excusing myself from the sumptuous plate provided directly from the Capitol, the Peacekeeper felt compelled to enlighten me. "From the Capitol's chef." He stated matter-of-factly. My eyes widened in astonishment, the prestigious forks and the marbled plate bearing the unmistakable Capitol symbol in a beautiful blend of pink and gold confirming my suspicions. It didn't take long to finish the plate, and I had to gently cradle my stomach, realizing I had indulged more than intended.
Observing the other Peacekeepers distributing plain bread and butter to the fellow tributes, the discrepancy between their meals and mine became apparent. No trays, no elaborate plates – just a daily variation of the basics as a gesture of favor from their mentors. "Thank you." I expressed, shifting my gaze back to the Peacekeeper, wiping the corner of my lip as he nodded and took away my tray. "Snow will be meeting you back at the area for your training session. Another Peacekeeper will escort you this time."
"And when will that be?" I inquired, eager for his response and feeling a renewed energy thanks to the promised proteins and food. However, he offered no reply, merely shrugged, and returned to his duties. "I suppose it will be a surprise." Jacob nudged my arm, a welcome change from his usual grumpy demeanor. He seemed more like the guy I had met the previous day. "I hope it won't be too long." I expressed the shared sentiment, a sense of unease settling in as I contemplated not just the meal I had just enjoyed but also the impending challenge of facing Coriolanus, this time armed with an ax.
x
Coriolanus Snow made it explicit that Y/N Swan would enjoy a breakfast unlike the other tributes. This required him to rise a few hours earlier, sneaking into the Academy's kitchen to request the chef's specialty. The price for this special treatment? A victory for his own tribute, translating into a reward for chef himself – a win at the Capitol's most opulent restaurants once the 11th Hunger Games concluded. Despite securing this arrangement, Coriolanus couldn't shake a twisted and queasy feeling in his stomach. He found himself pondering how well his tribute fared the previous day, whether she had managed to get sufficient rest. Rumors has it that many tributes were struggling when away from their homes. Potentially depriving themselves of nourishment and falling prey to ailments even before the Games commenced.
To prevent any unfavorable outcomes for Y/N, Snow took measures from the very first day of her arrival to ensure her well-being. She was placed under careful watch, provided with proper nourishment, and subjected to prestigious training before even assessing the weaknesses of the other tributes. Snow considered himself fortunate to have perused the files of each tribute before encountering her. Although today marked the special occasion of the first training, he had already taken notice of particular tributes even before being discovered by Dr. Gaul. It wasn't a matter of sneaking into the lab during odd hours but rather a strategy to memorize vital information to enhance his tribute's chances of victory – the least he could do for her.
As the hour passed, signaling the end of breakfast for all mentors and tributes, Snow emphasized that he would meet her at the arena. While he wasn't particularly excited about it, he understood the necessity for both of them. In a life-and-death scenario, staying fully aware of one's surroundings was crucial, even if it meant a simple amphitheater. Snow's luck in surviving the scrutiny of Y/N's file revealed that she had been diligently studying the Games and her home. This knowledge brought a sense of relief, a realization that this game meant more than just power—it was about control.
Earlier this morning, Snow took care to dress impeccably for his time at the Academy. Observant eyes began to notice the subtle alteration in his uniform, a touch perfected by his esteemed cousin Tigris. Unlike the previous Games, this special occasion called for a blouse that complemented his red coat, adorned with a flower symbolizing wealth—the same symbol he had bestowed upon his tribute. Something about Snow seemed different, and his classmates couldn't help but acknowledge his opulence. "Looking good, Coriolanus." Remarked one of his peers, quick to notice. Following suit, many others expressed their admiration in ways that held significance to them. Whether it was a blouse and rose for Coriolanus or a complete uniform change for his classmate, slated to mentor District 1, each gesture reflected their individual priorities. As the wealthiest among them, Coriolanus graciously acknowledged the same compliment he had received before returning to his duties.
In the classroom, Dr. Gaul made a deliberate effort to acknowledge each student's unique fashion preferences, although some deviated from the expected norms with a bit more effort. Swiftly transitioning, she redirected the discussion to the main focus of the day's lesson—training. Emphasizing the significance of comprehending not only the tributes' strengths but also their inherent weaknesses, Dr. Gaul delved into a subject that happened to be Snow's favorite among the lessons taught back at the lab.
"Now I suspect that each and everyone of you will have the ability to meet your tributes before Training today. But remember, training isn't for chit chats. But to actually make it possible to win."
Win.
It had been Snow's primary motivation from the start. Despite experiencing Dr. Gaul's dissatisfaction in the previous Game, he was determined to regain her trust. The moment their eyes locked, he swiftly and resolutely committed himself to making this game worthwhile. His goal extended beyond mere victory; he aimed to have his tribute, his "swan," by his side and secure a place as Panem's ultimate favorite.
Upon reaching the arena, Snow's immediate instinct was to locate her. As anticipated, she was being presented with a proper attire, a new outfit designed to make her conspicuous amidst the crowd. The colors formed a gradient hue reminiscent of one he had seen in a previous dream—a vision now unfolding before his eyes. The desire to reach out, to embrace her, and apologize for the unspoken questions tugged at him. Why had she departed without informing him? Yet, uncertainty lingered—was this reality, or perhaps a hallucination playing tricks on him? Such mysteries would remain forever unknown.
"Hi, Snow." She greeted, her memory retaining his name. This time, her voice held a certain ease in his presence. Recalling the act of kindness during breakfast, she had meant to express her gratitude before the training session commenced. As they neared each other, her appreciation lingered, evident in the softening of his gaze. "Thank you for breakfast. You didn't have to, you know—" Her words were gently interrupted as his fingers brushed against her lips, their softness mirroring hers. It signaled a shift in control, implying that he was taking charge this time. "I ordered them too. It's disgusting to see such human delicacy being left to rot." He asserted.
His confession left her in disbelief, even though she was aware of Snow's penchant for using peculiar expressions. She valued the subtle act of understanding, recognizing that when Snow spoke of taking care, he truly meant every word. The one thing she didn't realize as the Games concluded was that the expectation of returning home would soon become a deceptive narrative. The idea of having her completely to himself remained an illusion. But an illusion he will make a reality.
As he observed his fellow classmates already engaged in their duties, he noticed other tributes discreetly perusing their instructions. He deliberately centered his focus entirely on them, employing a tactic and distraction that he found satisfaction in witnessing reflected in many pairs of eyes. Some displayed fear, while others showed envy or outright hostility. Regardless, it only reinforced his own nature. Just as he was about to redirect his full attention back to her, he offered a genuine smile. "Are you prepared for the training?"
"When am I never?" She mirrored his smile, this time with a hint of cockiness. Snow observed with equal pleasure how delighted she appeared to be participating in the Games, becoming his newfound favorite toy.
"Then show me what you got."