Hi!

You may be confused as to why I have deleted the origional version of this story and posted this one.

Well the ever-amazing Shrrgnien convinced me that Thalia would be a better protagonist than Artemis for this story. Not just for the awesome opportunities this entails, but also because I forgot one very important detail in Percy Jackson lore... that the Gods can't interfere.

(oops)

So, here is the Prologue for the re-written The End of the Hunger Games with Thalia in the driver's seat. And I cannot thank my awesome Beta (and co-writer for the next 3 chapters) Shrrgnien enough for her epic brilliance that is her beta-ing skills and patience for my writing.

And to you, the reader:

I hope you enjoy it :)

The End of the Hunger Games

Prologue

We had long ago decided that the barbarism of the Capitol must come to an end. The mortal girl, Katniss Everdeen, was only the beginning of the rebellion. The catalyst. The kindling, which when exposed to a flame, ignites and spreads. We are the flame. The destructive force. We are the watchers and we had decided that the reign of terror reaped upon the land by the Capitol must be halted.

Oh, dear sweet Hades. I've been hanging around Apollo way too long.

So…yeah. The Olympians have finally decided that enough is enough. Artemis has been saying that since the beginning, of course, but the others have always insisted that they couldn't interfere. It took over seventy-five years to get them to change their minds.

Well…not really. I'm here, aren't I?

I played along with the rituals that were required; the interviews, the appearances and the training. I not only earned an 11 during the private audience with the Gamemakers (Athena argued a 12 would be too suspicious); I had hordes of sponsors practically tripping over themselves to support me. Of course, I don't really need their support. I'm a demigod. A Hunter. A trained, experienced killer with centuries of experience on my side, and I'm going up against frightened children. And I have gods on my side! I can't possibly be hurt.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself. I say it over, and over again, hoping against hope that I'll start to believe it.

Yes. Me. Yours truly. Thalia. Lieutenant of Artemis…Daughter of Zeus…District 7 female tribute in the 76th Hunger Games.

Ares' words of encouragement are echoing in my ears, "You'll have fun…After all, you kill on a daily basis. Consider it a hunting session." True enough, but his words, when paired with his piercing, fiery stare and his menacing laugh, reeked with cruel intent.

I guess that was why I was chosen. Hunting. Killing. Death. It was all natural to me. Fun.

...

We were to show the Capitol that it was not they that dictated over Panem, but us. We could end their petty rule at any moment and in any way we wished.

We had long debated the intricacies of our scheme, and it was—naturally—Apollo's suggestion that Thalia should be a member of District 7 because "they specialize in wood and you're the goddess of the forests." Genius…his intellect truly astounds me sometimes.

Now, at least, he is silent. Irritating as he is, he knows…sometimes…when to shut up. He squeezes my shoulder gently, and for once, he doesn't make a joke.

As well he shouldn't. This is not even remotely funny. Yes, of course Thalia will be fine; she can hardly help that, being strong brave, powerful…I stop myself before I lose my composure completely. She would have difficulty losing this competition if she tried. It was why she was chosen. But she is mortal. Un-aging, eternally healthy, yes, but mortal nonetheless. And I have just knowingly and willingly sent her into a death trap.

The least I can do is say goodbye.

…

I am roughly thirty seconds away from murdering my stylist.

She's asleep, if you'll believe it, in a chair in the corner of the room, and Johanna wasn't kidding; she truly is the biggest idiot in the Capitol. If—when—I survive, Apollo is never, ever going to let me hear the end of this. I will forever be Thalia, the girl who was a tree.

I swear if I didn't have to be strong now, for all our sakes, I would drop my head into my hands and weep at the pointlessness of it all. After murdering my stylist, who is the biggest idiot in the Capitol.

"Truly? And all these years I thought it was my brother."

I think, under the circumstances, I can be forgiven for the bloodcurdling shriek.

…

I can't help laughing slightly at her reaction. "Peace, Thalia. I only came to see you off."

"Don't…do that!" she gasps. I cock an eyebrow, and she grimaces. "Sorry. I mean…please. Not out of the blue like that."

I take a moment to read the undertones of her thoughts. "Frightened, Thalia?" I ask softly.

"No, not at all, my lady," she reassures me. "Just startled is all. Really."

I am not convinced.

I place a hand gently on her shoulder, pause for a few seconds, and then remove it. I know that this is the only comfort she will accept at the moment. It is one of things I have discovered she has in common with Zoë.

Attempting to sound brisk and businesslike (a rather thin mask, but I doubt any but my brother would be able to tell) I ask her, "You remember your instructions, I am sure?"

Thalia stands a bit straighter and recites, "No cursing in Greek, no demigod powers. Get my hands on a bow, grab a sword or a hunting knife, and find some trees. Remember I'm on camera. No sacrificing to the gods." She gives an apologetic grimace, and I laugh outright.

"I am sure I shall survive."

She nods and continues. "I can twist the Mist, but I can't use it on other tributes or the Gamemakers will get suspicious. I can call down a random lightning strike once, so I'm supposed to use it sparingly."

I raise an eyebrow. "And?"

She frowns. "And…nothing. That's everything, isn't it?"

I nod, smirking. "Glad to see you were paying attention when I told you that you could short-circuit electrical devices in an emergency."

She blushes. "Right. And if I'm cornered and there's absolutely no way out other than to use my powers as a half-blood, I can blow out the cameras and go Greek on them. And then when I get back you'll be so disappointed in me that I'll have to sit through a poetry recital with your brother, and remember to be more careful next time."

I smile. "Precisely."

Suddenly she looks slightly nervous. "Lady Artemis? You…you were kidding about that last part, weren't you?"

Suddenly a bell rings, signaling her to prepare for launch. "Good luck, Thalia," I say. "And-"

"Don't!" she cries suddenly.

Genuinely confused, I ask, "I beg your pardon?"

Her brilliant blue eyes pained, she stands on her pedestal and looks back at me. "I'm sorry," she says miserably, "But if one more person says, "May the odds be ever in your favor," I am going to blow up something."

My eyes tighten. "That wasn't what I was going to say."

"…Oh." A glass tube begins to slide up around her, and I wave my hand, stalling it. "What…were you going to say?"

I take her hand and look her in the eyes. "Thalia," I say quietly, "Be careful."

…

As Artemis moves back, the glass slides up around me, and I nod. I will be, I think, and she smiles before disappearing in a swirl of moonlight. I have time to thank her silently for not reverting to her immortal form—I couldn't have torn my eyes away from that last friendly face if I'd tried—before I'm out of the launch room, wincing slightly in the sunlight.

I don't know whether it's my mind or my lady's that thinks the words.

Let the Hunt begin.