Disclaimer: Despite my valiant, nonexistent attempts at acquiring the rights to this stuff over break, I still own nothing. Even the clothes on my back were bought as a Christmas present.

Chapter XXIX: Into the Night

Thorin

His lover's hair is in his face as he wakes up, and he lets out a soft sigh as he inhales the lovely scent. Her hair smells like the forest, he thinks. He nestles in a little deeper and gives her a light squeeze, and she wriggles about just slightly.

"You snore, you know," she whispers lightly. "I always thought someone was just forging late into the night in the mountain, but it was your snoring all along."

He chuckles, and she curls closer into him. "Good morning to you, too," he says simply.

"It would be better if we weren't going back into the Games," she says. "I doubt they'll let us pull it off a second time, especially now that Crane's dead."

He grimaces. This isn't something he wanted to think about, but it is an undeniable future. "I know."

She turns over and faces him. "I'm not letting you die for me."

He smiles back at her; it's a sad smile, one that nobody wants to see on their loved one's face. "I know," he repeats.

Katniss looks into her beloved's eyes, and he looks back. It's like looking in a mirror, he decides. Their eyes are so similar; same colour and shape, he wonders if she has any Mountain-blood in her.

He remembers seeing them, tear-filled, after Rue's death. How her cheeks glistened as she and he sang to the dying girl, and how she broke down after Rue's eyes finally closed. He never saw how she sobbed after he went his own way until the recap of the Games.

In that moment he felt a pang of guilt, and gave her a quick, passionate kiss. "I love you," he said after a moment.

"I know," she said with a grin, rolling him onto his back and straddling him.

Skald

Haymitch had bid him to go wake his liege lord, for they had finally reached the Capitol. It is already rather late in the day and Thorin and Katniss have already missed breakfast; though Skald has not spent much time with Thorin, he knows that it is unlike his lord to miss a meal. As he strolls down the housing car and toward Thorin's room, he hears the unmistakable sounds of passion beyond that door. A grin comes across Blackfyre's pale face.

Should he disturb his lord and friend in the throes of passion, or should he let the Capitol wait? As if that's a hard decision, he thinks. Fuck the Capitol, fuck the president. Let them wait.

Skald Blackfyre shoves his hands in his pockets and walks back to the dining car, to find Haymitch waiting for him with a wicked grin on his face. The purple-haired escort, Glisten, is nowhere to be seen.

"Where are the kids, Blackfyre?" Haymitch teases, taking a swig from a flask.

"You knew they were fucking," states Skald matter-of-factly.

"Of course I did, I was the first one to go check on them," replies District 12's only other Victor.

Skald rolls his eyes. "That was over a half hour ago. I've never known a man to be able to get it back up that quickly," he says.

Haymitch starts chuckling; Skald resists the urge to punch him. "The way your liege lord is, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't stopped yet." He drinks deeply this time. "Quite charismatic, he is. And I thought Sigurd was a grandmaster at that." He grins.

"So where'd Glisten go?" asks Skald, snatching a bowl and filling it with orange juice. The wine provided by the Capitol was undrinkable to him; a little too sweet, actually, and there was nothing to warm it up with—the Capitol wouldn't provide anything that could harm the tributes. If he couldn't have hot wine, then there was no point to the wine, he had told himself long ago.

"Damned if I know. I told her to get outta my sight… and there's the lovebirds!" Haymitch says. Skald turns his head and sees that Katniss and Thorin have entered the dining car, both looking quite bedraggled. The elder Victor and the Blackfyre grin at them.

"Don't say a word." Thorin says dangerously, but Skald can tell from the look in his eyes that he's actually joking.

Blackfyre grins at his lord. "Well, milord, I hope this doesn't become a habit in the Arena. Don't want to be caught with your… pants down?"

"Your mother is a hamster and your father smells of elderberries. Take a seat, Blackfyre," Thorin teases.

Blackfyre grins back. "Well pardon me, milord, but I believe I'm the one that smells of elderberries," he says, laughing.

Thorin

If there is one thing in the Capitol that he is excited for, it is seeing his aunt once more.

However, the price of meeting with his aunt was a fierce scrub-down by the prep team. Plucked from the clutches of his lover and paraded through the Capitol only to be dropped back into the jaws of Capitol vultures bent on tearing away the facial hair he'd spent months attempting to regrow after the last Games, this is not something that he enjoys.

It is the same group as last year, though their hairstyles have changed greatly, but he can still recognise their faces. They are a bit wary of him, no doubt remembering last year when he bit them for trying to shave him; this is good, he decides. Fear is a powerful tool.

He is, however, rather surprised to find that they have not tried to inject him with anything. Remembering last year, he would have thought they would have attempted to put him out quickly; perhaps they have been put under orders by his aunt.

After they're finished, they release him to go speak with his aunt. As soon as he is in the room, he is embraced in a bone-crushing hug. His aunt's smiling face is a beacon in the dark, shitty night that is the Capitol. He returns the smile. "Aunt," he says after a moment.

"Nephew," she replies just as happily. "It is wonderful to see you. I would say that I am sad, but this is something I knew would be happening. You would not let your mate go in with Haymitch."

"I would not," he agrees.

"It is not in our nature," Arwen nods. "I am afraid we cannot speak much here. The Capitol is like the night," she trails off.

"Dark and full of terrors," finishes her nephew.

Arwen smiles. "That is the last thing your father said to me, you know." There's a sadness in her eyes, Thorin notices. Does she see Josurr when she looks at him? How much does she miss his father?

Deciding to change the subject, Thorin takes a quick look around the room; austere with white walls and little decoration—it could have been the same room as last year for all he knows. "Things don't change much here, do they?"

"No," his aunt agrees, motioning for him to sit. "Nothing except the ideas. And even then that is quite rare."

"Until you and Cinna came along."

"Correct. And this year we're not changing it—too much," she adds. "We're basing it off the same idea of fire, but I think he and I have worked out something that Snow will certainly enjoy."

Her grin makes Thorin slightly uneasy; it reminds him too much of Lord Aurelius. Remembering that man's smile, his voice, Thorin has to suppress a shudder as he recalls what he said when they first met, My men are everywhere; perhaps… no, no kin of his would be so depraved as to ally themselves with the Old Lion, he was certain of it. He stares at the white wall for a moment, letting his thoughts run their course; should he have accepted Lord Aurelius's offer of a non-aggression pact—should he have at least told his family about this? That was a grave err; he should have mentioned it, certainly.

But he would not make it out of this Game, he decided; that pact with House Bjalfi was the least of his worries.

"What are these plans, dear aunt?"

She grins wider and he loses any doubts about her; that grin of hers is not one that would belong to a lion.

She is a wolf, through and through.

YAHOOOOO hey everybody, Jordan here. It's been awhile, yeah? I'm real sorry about that, but there's been some… family issues as of late. I'm not going to go into specifics but know that this story is not abandoned! I know I said I wanted to be at the Interviews by Christmas but that obviously isn't going to happen. Anyways I don't really have too much to say here besides the fact that I'm going to be posting a sort of character appendix soon—similar to what George R. R. Martin does at the end of his books, where he lists who is related to who, what House they belong to, etc.

Anyways as always, thank you so much for reading, everyone. Feel free to leave a review/follow/favourite, and until we meet again, have a wonderful time!

~Jordan