The First Annual Hunger Games
Chapter 6: Reaping Eve (Both)
by TheAngryTaco

A/N: All right, we're back! And it's almost Game time.

In this chapter, both Sotiris and Embla get to have a moment in the spotlight. I hope that doesn't throw you off too much.

Enjoy as usual.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. However, this story and all of the characters within are mine.

Sotiris tiredly knocked on the door of Fox's mansion, pulling his coat closer as the chilly night air bit at him. An Avox opened the door a moment later and peered out. "I'm here for dinner with the President," he told her.

She opened the door for him, then reached out for his coat. He barely nodded at her as he adjusted his clothes, making sure everything was just so. Then he followed the woman through the grand maze of halls and rooms. A pleasant aroma reached his nose, suggesting of spiced meats and fresh fruit. It almost brought a smile to his lips.

Almost.

Fox and Lucretia were already seated at the banquet table when he entered the dining hall. The president smiled at him and raised her silver goblet. "Good evening, Sotiris," she said.

"Good evening," he replied.

Lucretia nodded at the chair across from her. "You can sit there," she said.

Sotiris did as instructed, then waited patiently as the women filled their plates. "This looks wonderful," he managed. "Thank you for inviting me."

"My pleasure," Fox commented. "But also, it wouldn't be right to celebrate tonight without you here. You are the reason we have anything to celebrate."

He sighed. "I'm not in any mood to celebrate just yet," he replied.

Fox studied him for a moment. "If you're concerned about backlash in the Districts, rest assured that I've personally sent orders to the Peacekeepers to be on high alert tomorrow," she told him. "If there is any hint of unrest, they will quell it."

Sotiris nodded, not interested in correcting her. "That's good. Do you have any word on our escorts?"

"Yes," Fox replied. "The mayors have all confirmed that they arrived safely. We're completely set for tomorrow."

"That's a good start, at least," Sotiris replied, taking a bite of chicken. Then he remembered how hungry he was and began to devour the food in front of him.

Fox gave him an approving look. "Much better," she commented before returning to her own meal.

The three finished their feast in relative silence. Occasionally, they would make a comment about which Districts were likely to provide strong Tributes or what they could add to the training at the last minute, but mostly they stayed quiet. Sotiris managed to maintain a pleasant facade, though he truthfully could not wait to go home. Lucretia, as usual, saw right through it. "Are you feeling all right, Sotiris?"

"As well as could be expected, I suppose," he replied after a moment.

Fox put her fork down. "You're thinking of Tasia, aren't you?"

Sotiris nodded. "You say it's because of me we have a reason to celebrate," he said softly. "But we all know that's not true. These Games were her idea, and I wish she had lived long enough to see them."

The president met his gaze. "I'm sure we all would have liked to have her join us for dinner tonight," she returned. "But she cannot. And I don't think the best way to honor her memory is to mope around."

Lucretia gently laid her hand on Fox's shoulder. Her expression softened. "The best way you can remember Tasia is by making sure that the Games are the greatest thing that ever happened to this country. Just remember that as we move out from here and you'll be fine."

He nodded. "Do you think anyone in the Capitol will be awake for the first Reapings?" he asked.

"Probably," Fox replied. "I know they start early, but I'm certain that everyone would want to see the Tributes as they're picked."

Lucretia shrugged. "I'm more interested in seeing which District will provide the Victor," she commented.

"That will all depend on who gets picked at the Reapings," Sotiris pointed out. "Though I think Districts 11 and 9 initially stand a better chance, since they're used to being outside and dealing with edible plants."

"I would expand that to the Districts that are used to being outside in general," Fox put in. "For example, District 7 or 10."

"Not so much 10," Lucretia said. "There aren't going to be any cows in the Arena. 4 would be the better bet."

"Well, I think we can all agree on one thing, at least," Sotiris went on. "Districts 8 and 5 will be lucky to survive the first day."

Both women nodded. "Such a pity," Fox said, though there was no real remorse in her voice. "Some Districts will forever be at a disadvantage."

"Will that be a problem, do you think?" Sotiris asked.

"Not at all," Fox answered. "It'll just make their eventual Victors even bigger heroes in the District, though they'll still pose no threat to us."

"Still, best to keep an eye on them," Lucretia suggested.

Fox nodded, then resumed cutting into her meat. "Eat, eat," she insisted. "Let's eat as much as we can before tonight's address. Then afterwards, we can have dessert. I had a special cake commissioned, just for us."

Lucretia and Sotiris nodded, then obediently resumed their meal as the trio fell once more into silence.

Meanwhile, Embla busied herself setting out dishes. She counted and recounted the number of plates again, hoping she had gotten it right. "I keep feeling like I missed somebody," she said fretfully.

"Well, if you did, we'll just get another set of dishes out," Grove remarked from his spot in the kitchen. "It's not like we'd chop your head off just for being one off!"

She rolled her eyes. "You're a big help," she returned. "Do you need anything in there?"

"No, I've got it, thanks. What time are they supposed to be here?"

Embla looked over at the old clock on the wall that someone still functioned. "Any minute now," she replied.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Embla scurried to the door and threw it open. Standing outside was Ash and his family. "Evening, Hatchling," Ash said with a smirk. "I hope you don't mind if I brought these troublemakers along for dinner."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on in. Dinner's just about ready," she said, stepping back to let them in.

"Thank you, Embla," Ash's father, Elias, said graciously. "Boys, what do we say to nice young ladies who hold doors for us?"

"Thank you," said five-year-old Olive, bowing slightly.

"Yeah, thanks," added eight-year old Mathias.

Elias shook his head with exasperation before going to greet Embla's mother. "Good evening, Clara," he said kindly. "How lovely to see you."

"Likewise," she replied, smiling. "Thank you for joining us tonight."

He laughed. "You should be thanking Ash," he replied, nodding at the boy.

Ash shrugged. "I figured we don't really have any reason to celebrate anymore, so we might as well take the closest thing we can get."

"I'd say having enough to for seven to eat under one roof is reason enough," Embla commented, bringing out some of the food. "And it's very good food at that."

The boys' mouths fell open when they saw what she was carrying. "Is that a real turkey?" Olive gasped.

"And fruit?" Ash asked. "Real, honest fruit?"

"Hey now, don't forget the salad and the bread," Grove teased, carrying the rest.

Ash's family continued to stare in shock as the siblings carefully laid the food on the table. "We had to save our wages for a few weeks to get these, but it was worth it," Embla said with a smile.

"I'll drink to that," Elias said.

"Unfortunately, we couldn't get anything fancy to drink," Embla said. "We have a choice of water or more water."

Ash shrugged. "I guess I'll have water then."

Moments later, the families were gorging themselves. An occasional word or two was passed between them, but for the most part, they remained focused on the food. Little Olive was near tears for most of the meal, unable to believe that this wasn't a dream. Embla ate as slowly as she dared, taking her time and savoring each bite. Ash was trying to do something similar, but he sped up with every new serving of turkey. Mathias tried not to appear impressed, but his love of fresh fruit overruled his desire to remain cool. Grove followed Embla's example and ate slowly, his expression one of pure bliss. Clara and Elias ate as if this were any other meal, though both knew the importance of it. It was easily the best meal that any of them had had in several years.

All too soon, the time came for the president's announcement. There was still some food left, so the families grabbed what they could and brought it into the living room so they could keep eating. The anthem blared almost as soon as Embla flipped on the television, the Capitol seal displayed proudly across the screen. Then it cut away to President Fox, happily sitting in a chair somewhere far away.

"Good evening again, citizens of Panem," she started. "As you know, tomorrow is Reaping Day for all of the Districts. Now, this will not take long, but I wish to refresh your memory on the procedure for tomorrow - and of course, the expectation of your conduct."

She proceeded to give a long, droning list of things that Embla had already heard in speeches past. Attendance was mandatory. The Reapings themselves were at staggered times, with District 7's at 11:30 am. All children between 12 and 18 would be entered. The Tributes would then be taken to the Capitol to prepare for the Games.

Beside Embla, Ash was fidgeting. When she glanced his way, he shook his head. "We already know all of this," he said. "What else does she have to tell us? It would be a waste of money to hold this without offering any new information."

Fox didn't fail to disappoint. "We have heard some disturbing rumors that people wish to stir up trouble during the Reapings," she commented. "While I'd like to think we can conduct these ceremonies in a peaceful manner -"

"Peaceful?" Grove hissed. "She doesn't know the meaning of the word!"

"-I also am not a fool," Fox said, oblivious to any anger. "Thus, there will be extra Peacekeepers on duty. If anyone is seen causing trouble, they will be shot on sight."

Embla shivered as she looked at Grove, who was still bristling. She returned her gaze to the TV as Fox continued on. "Now, as a final reminder, the Tributes will be taken immediately from their Districts. Thus, make sure you say any good-byes that you have before you come to the Reapings."

She paused for a moment, clearly savoring the shock and anger she knew the country was feeling. Then the president picked up her glass of water and held it up to the camera. "I will see you again tomorrow evening when we showcase the selected Tributes," she added. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

The seal returned with a flourish. Embla immediately turned to her brother. "You can't say or do anything out of line tomorrow," she said. "Do you hear me, Grove?"

He let out a frustrated grunt. "I make no promises," he replied. "If your name is the one picked, then I will cause trouble."

"Even if it is me, you can't cause trouble," Embla shot back. "We've been over this already. We need you here and alive."

"You know, I hate to say it, but she's right," Ash said. "You really ought to rethink your strategy about dealing with people who will shoot you for breathing funny."

"Yeah, you should listen to Miss Embla," Olive pipped up, standing as tall as a five-year-old could. "She's smart."

Grove folded his arms and sat back in his seat, resembling an angry toddler. Embla sighed, then began gathering the dishes. Without a word, Ash began to do the same, helping cart the various scratched plates and chipped glasses to the kitchen. "Thanks for the help in there," she said quietly.

"Anytime, Hatchling," he said, purposely putting emphasis on her nickname. "So, what are you going to do if your name is called tomorrow?"

"Probably wake up in a cold sweat, since that would be a nightmare and all."

He laughed. "I am serious, though," he said. "I've been thinking about it ever since they announced the Games. Will I try to run? Will I panic? Will I at least try to win?"

"And?" Embla asked as she washed a cut. "What did you figure out?"

"I would try to win at any cost," he answered. "The prize for winning is food for a year for your District, as well as a life of luxury for you and your family. If I won, my little brothers would be able to eat properly every night. And that would be worth it."

Embla shook her head. "And what would be the cost of that luxury?" she asked. "Twenty-three dead kids. It seems the price is too high."

He rose an eyebrow. "And if your name is drawn? Are you going to stand there like a bunny rabbit and let them slaughter you?"

"No, of course not," she said. "I'd fight to defend myself. But I'd rather win by staying hidden and outlasting everyone else."

"Except the price is still the same," Ash pointed out. "Twenty-three people still have to die for you to live."

A shiver ran down Embla's spine. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said. "My name's not going to be drawn. It's not worth worrying about."

"If you say so, Hatchling."

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