Part 1-

Katniss finds Haymitch with a bottle of white liquor on her porch at 3 AM.

It was the sound of his singing that woke her up. She had attempted to shake Peeta awake to help her deal with their Mentor, but her useless husband had merely turned over and mumbled something about pie.

So Katniss had fumbled around in the darkness for her boots and her jacket and made her way outside where she found Haymitch on her porch with a bottle of white liquor.

"What are you doing?" she says, crossing her arms out of frustration and cold. He's been worse than usual with the drinking for the past week or so and despite herself, Katniss has begun to worry.

He squints up at her. "Go 'way Cass," he mumbles.

"It's Katniss," she corrects him with a huff.

"Oh," he says stupidly, "Thought you looked a little too young."

Katniss sighs, half wanting to leave her mentor here and go back to bed, but the other half reminds her of everything Haymitch did for her and that it would be rude to leave him to die of frostbite on her porch in the middle of the winter after all that, so she grabs his arms and drags him into the house. Haymitch puts up little resistance and allows himself to be thrown in front of the dying fire.

He tries to start to sing again but Katniss gives him a soft kick in the side as she goes to throw a log on the fire to get it restarted. "Peeta's sleeping," she hushes him.

Haymitch rolls his eyes and takes a swig from his bottle, but doesn't protest.

When the fire is roaring again, Katniss settles herself on the couch and patiently waits for the older man to fall asleep so she can go back upstairs.

But instead, Haymitch remains awake, drinking and staring into the fire.

After a half-hour of this, Katniss starts to drift off, but Haymitch's voice wakes her up.

"You and Lover Boy still writing that book?"

"Yeah." Katniss raises a brow at Haymitch's interest. They had told him about their memory book months ago, but he had just scoffed and asked what the point was.

"Can you put somebody in it for me?"

Katniss is taken aback, but she agrees all the same.

"Well a few people actually," Haymitch chuckles, "I've known so many people…" he trails off and they sit in silence for a few moments before he begins again.

"The first District 12 victor," he says, "Was a woman named Cassiope Fletch."

It is the year of the 16th Annual Hunger Games.

There are rumors amongst the districts that the President is ill. They mumble behind closed door that perhaps the Games will end soon. Whispers talk about a school opening in District 2 that will train tributes. Capitol citizens have begun to get excited for the Games. To them, the Games are slowly turning from the bloody reminder of a war to a festivity, a celebration to be excited for. A betting pool has already begun for this year's Games.

But in District 12, the young girl hiding behind a tree knows none of this.

And even if she did, Cassiope Fletch would not care. Her gray eyes are focused on a handsome boy standing several meters away, laughing with his friends.

"Talk to him," a voice hisses in her ear. Cass jumps and glares at her friend who giggles, her eyes, that match the color of Cassiope's, dancing with mirth.

"Perri," Cass reprimands, "Don't you have to walk your brother home?"

Perri Greene rolls her eyes. "He can make it on his own. He'll be thirteen in a few days."

The girls fall silent the thought of the birthday. Perri's brother Rhys was born on the eve of a Reaping. His birthday was a reminder every year of what they had to face.

"Still," Cass says, shaking her head as if the motion could rid her of all thoughts of the Hunger Games, "Your mother will kill you if she knew you let him walk home alone."

Perri shrugs and turns back to the group of boys Cass had been spying on. "Doesn't change the fact you should talk to him."

Cass sighs and waves her friend off. Her unrequited crush on Lark Everdeen had been going on for years and normally Perri left it alone, only poking fun at her friend when she was reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess when Lark spoke to her. But around the Reaping, Perri constantly bothered Cass to speak to Lark, insisting that she didn't know if it might be her last chance.

Although Perri has a point, not even the threat of the Games could override Cass's shyness when it came to Lark Everdeen.

"Let's just go home," she says, grabbing her school books off the ground, "Before your mother realizes you let Rhys walk by himself."

Perri rolls her eyes, but glances nervously at the Peacekeepers that line the streets ahead of them. Rhys has a mouth he simply didn't know how to keep shut and the Greenes tried their hardest to keep him from talking too much in front of the Peacekeepers. Including making sure Perri walks her brother to and from school every day.

But if Rhys has done something stupid, the Peacekeepers ignored it because they are all present as Perri and Cass walk home to the Miner's Village, or as it's affectionately dubbed, the Seam.

"See you later, yeah?" Perri asks when they reached her house.

Cass nods, not jealous of her friend at all when she hears Mrs. Greene's shrieking voice, demanding to know why Perri allowed her brother to walk alone.

Cass's own two brothers walk each other home each day. Leo and Orion are a year below Rhys, but the twins know when to keep their mouths shut. Which comes in handy for Cass, as the last thing she wanted were her pesky brothers teasing her for wanting to stay afterschool to watch Lark Everdeen mess around with his friends.

Of course the Fletch family knows the dangers of speaking up against the Capitol much better than the Greenes.

Cass shakes the thoughts from her head and picks up her pace towards her home. She can see the twins playing out in the yard, her mother through the window making dinner, and the empty seat where her father would sit.

If he hadn't been shot dead for treason.

The Reaping Day is hotter than usual and Cassiope itches in her yellow dress.

Next to her, Perri in light purple swats her hand lightly. "Don't move so much," she hisses, eyeing the Peacekeepers that line the pens of children.

Cass tries to take a deep breath to calm down. She won't be called. Some kids have tons more slips than she does. In her four years, she's only taken tesserae out twice. Her mother makes a good living as the maid for the mayor of District 12. Others have to take it every year. Ori and Leo won't be called, it's only their first year so they only one slip each. She looks over at the boys. They're gipping hands tightly and she can see Leo's collar is sticking up in the back.

Cass sighs, she must have fixed it for him at least twenty times on their way to the square this morning and he still managed to mess it up.

Her eyes drift over to Lark Everdeen, standing with the other seventeen year old boys. He has more slips than she'll ever have, due to his father being injured in the mines a few years ago and his three younger sisters, one of whom is lined up with the fourteen year olds and the others with their parents in the crowd. This is his last year though. She hopes he doesn't get picked. Seeing seventeen year olds, just barely out of the grasp of the Capitol was almost as depressing as when twelve year olds were reaped.

"Welcome, welcome!" The chipper voice of Magenta Vestor rings out across the crowd, "Happy Hunger Games!"

Cass tries her best to tune out Magenta's shrill voice. Everyone dislikes the Capitol woman with her blood red corkscrew curls and ridiculous getups. This year she's chosen a green suit that clashes with her hair made out of some sort of reptile skin. Cass doesn't know how she could bear to wear it in this heat.

Cass's eyes wander back over to Lark Everdeen. Perhaps tonight she would speak to him. He lived so close that she could bump into him casually on her way home, ask him how it feels to no longer have to worry about being reaped, push him up against a wall and kiss him senseless.

Perri gives her hand another swat and Cass focuses back on the stage where Magenta's hand dips into the glass bowl of girls' names. She plucks one from the pile and lifts it slowly. Cass holds her breath.

"Cassiope Fletch"

Her heart stops.

What happens next is a blur.

Someone pushes her up front and somehow her feet carry her up the stage where Magenta grins with too many teeth and congratulates her. Cass can only stare blankly at the crowd while she calls up the male tribute. A fourteen year old merchant boy named Erik.

Magenta tells them to shake hands and Cass wonders if she's looking into the eyes of the killer.

She wonders if Erik is thinking the same thing.

They're hustled off stage and into the Justice building. And the next thing Cass knows she's thrown into a room with her mother who clutches her tightly and her brothers who stare at her blankly.

"Oh Cassiope," she cries, "No, no, you can't go."

"It's not a choice Mama," Cass whispers.

"They took your father. I can't let them take you too!"

Cass rubs her tears away with the heel of her palm. "I'm not going to let them take me Mama," she says. Her voice is far from confident, but it seems to calm her mother, who backs off and tucks a lock of Cass's messy hair behind her ear.

"Fight for me Cassiope," she begs her daughter, "Fight for your father."

Ori and Leo come forward now. Cass has never been close with her brothers. They're four years younger and have each other. But they both hug her as tightly as their mother.

"You can do it Cass," Leo whispers in her ear.

Cass barely has time to nod and fix his collar again before the Peacekeepers drag her family out and throw Perri in. The other teenaged girl grabs her friend's hand. "Try to come back," she pleads.

Cass nods again, swallowing back her tears. How many people will she make this promise to that she can't keep?

"You can win," Perri says frantically, "You're fast and clever and pretty. They'll be falling over their feet in the Capitol to sponsor you."

Neither girl mentions that there will be no District 12 mentor to send those sponsors' gifts. There's never been a District 12 victor. The only thing they have is Magenta, who's too busy worrying about getting promoted to a better District to help the one she's assigned to now.

"I'm not as pretty as you," Cass says with a watery smile.

It is a joke between the two girls they've had since they were young. Where Perri is short and curvy with a round face and brown curls, Cass is tall and angular with a long face and pin straight hair. Neither was any prettier than the other, but when they were young, they had envied each other's looks. The older they got, the more envy lessened until it was just a joke between the two.

But the joke felt weak now.

"Oh shut up," Perri says, wiping the tears off her face, "And come back."

"I'll try," Cass replies.

But they both know the odds are not in her favor.

The Peacekeepers come to remove Perri, and Cass knows that will be the end of her visitors. She had no more family and although she's friendly with plenty more people, it's not enough to have them come to see her off.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the Peacekeepers reenter and lead her out of the room and onto the train that will bring her to her most certain death.

Somewhere deep in her heart, Cass is not surprised she was reaped.

The children of the rebel leaders were the first to go. The Capitol had claimed it was a lottery from the beginning, but it was obvious to anyone that the last names of the first children that were taken those first few Games matched those that had been executed for their crimes against the Capitol.

Their deaths had been broadcast across Panem and now so would their children's.

But Cass had been an infant then. And more importantly, the Capitol had not known Cyrus Fletch's part in the rebellion. It was only three years later, when her mother's belly was still swollen with the twins did the Peacekeepers march into their home and drag her father out onto the streets.

She was only four years old, but Cass would never forget the scene. She had run after her mother, who had followed the soldiers, screaming. Somebody had tried to grab her, maybe multiple people, but she fought out of their grasp and made it all the way to the town square where her father was shot right in front of all of District 12. Right in front of his four year old daughter.

The worst part was that the public shooting of Cyrus Fletch wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last.

But as the years passed, and Cass became eligible for the reaping, the names became more and more random, and it seemed the Capitol no longer cared which children were chosen. Maybe they thought those whose parents were rebels had not been around long enough to influence their children. Or maybe they had just gotten more careful. Plucking a rebel child here and there. Making it as subtle as possible.

Cass didn't know, nor did she care.

Until today.

The train is fast and full of luxuries neither Cass nor Erik have ever seen. Erik is excited and Magenta seems to enjoy the young boy's enthusiasm.

"The Capitol will love you," she coos, tussling his golden curls. Erik grins at her and shoves another helping of pudding into his mouth.

She looks over at Cass who is quietly poking at her plate of food. "And you're quite pretty too," she says encouragingly, "Perhaps District 12 will have its first victor this year!"

At this, both Erik and Cass snort.

Magenta looks between them confused. "What's so funny?" she asks.

They look at each other and shrug before returning to their food. They're both aware of the death sentence they've received, even if Magenta isn't. There's a reason District 12 has never had a victor.

The stylists wipe Cass clean. Her scars and calluses and hair on every part of her body asides her head are all gone. She's never felt more naked, especially when they dress her in a miner's outfit with the pants tailored into a short skirt paired with a hard hat.

"I look ridiculous," she says, examining herself in the mirror.

"Nonsense," her stylist, a woman named Lyra, replies, "The skirt does wonders for your legs."

"But the heels…"

"Your legs go on for miles," Lyra insists, straightening out Cass's skirt, her eyes, an unnatural violet, scanning for any imperfections.

Thankfully, Erik looks even more ridiculous as his stylist as cut off the top of his jumpsuit and smeared his chest with coal dust.

"Shut up," he mumbles as Cass hides her giggles behind her hand.

She apologizes and gives him a hand into their chariot. "At least you don't have to wear heels," she tells him motioning to the coal black pair on her feet that make them ache with every step, "I don't know how Magenta walks in these."

The ride is long and torturous, but Cass does her best to smile and wave as Magenta and her stylist instructed her to. She grips onto the chariot tightly with her non-waving hand and when they reach the end, she can see small lines indented on her newly softened palms matching the pattern in front of her.

President Cobb stands to make his speech. He is an old man, and it's clear to all of Panem that the war has taken his life from him.

Behind him is his Chief of Staff, Coriolanus Snow, who Cass had heard many rumors about, none of them good. A bright red rose is fastened on his lapel and for a moment Cass swears she can smell the flower's scent from her place in the chariot.

He stares down at her and Cass looks away, the smell suddenly overwhelmingly sickening.

Magenta encourages them to find allies when training begins.

It seems pointless to Cass. Why make friends that are just going to kill you in the end?

She argues with the escort throughout breakfast and by the end, Magenta throws her arms up in defeat.

Erik remains silent through the meal, but when they make their way down to the training gym, he mutters, "I think you're right."

Cass smiles down at him and for a moment her heart pangs to know that when she doesn't want allies, this includes Erik.

The other tributes filter in slowly. Most are younger than Cass, either 13 or 14, and smaller than her too. She makes note of the pairs from 1 and 2, all 16 and 17 years old. The two districts closest to the Capitol have the highest number of volunteers and victors. For them, fighting in the Hunger Games is an honor.

The girl from 1 is smaller than Cass, a flighty thing with golden hair who's sure to pick up sponsors simply for the way she thrusts out her chest, if not the way she flings daggers. The boy looks like the bigger threat. He's the tallest of the twenty four, although the boy from 2 may be the largest is you factor in width. It's hard to miss him lifting the massive weights no one else dares to touch.

The girl from 2 is about the same height as Cass, but like her district partner, is wide with muscle. She wields a knife like no one else.

The others are not so impressive. The boys from 4 and 10 and the girl from 6 are the only other ones taller than Cass, but the girl is far too nervous to be much of a threat. She cries the second day of training. The girl from 3 is a tiny thing but seems incredibly clever. The boy from 7 is good with an axe, but seems intent on staying with his district partner who's utterly useless.

No, Cass resolves, an ally will do her no good.

Training goes by quickly.

For her session with the Gamemakers, she shows off her speed and what she's learned at the knife training area. That is, all the ways to cut a fellow tribute fatally. She earns herself a 7 and vomits in the hall afterwards.

Erik never tells her what he does, but it earns him an 8 either way.

Magenta is ridiculously pleased with them.

"If your interviews go well, one of you could very well be the first District 12 victor!" she chirps.

Cass and Erik get a good laugh out of this again.

The redheaded woman frowns at them both, but doesn't bother to question it. She's brought up the idea of one of them being the Victor several times since they've come to Capitol and each time they laugh. Instead, Magenta announces she'll be helping them prepare for their interviews tomorrow.

It is here that Cass falters for the first time.

Public speaking has never been her forte. In school, when they were required to give oral reports, Cass spent most of hers hemming and hawing, tripping over her tongue. Perri was always known as the loud one of the two.

The thought of her friend now makes Cass almost as nauseous as public speaking.

Magenta assures her she'll be fine, but ten minutes into their practice when Cass can't get out her own brothers' names, Magenta sighs, "Oh dear. Well," she hums, "Perhaps we'll play it that you're terribly shy, but eager. Try to look up at me through your lashes, oh no not like that."

They practice this for the rest of the time, and by the end, Cass manages to get Magenta's approval.

Erik tells her at dinner, he's supposed to act like a child, amazed with everything the Capitol has to offer.

As much as Cass dislikes it, both angles they've been instructed to take are good.

Their stylists must have talked to Magenta before, because their interview outfits match perfectly with their new personalities.

Cass wears a pretty blue dress that is dark at the top and gradually gets lighter as it moves down. It's cut conservatively on her chest, but the lighter the blue on the bottom, the more sheer the dress becomes, showing off the legs that Lyra loves so much. Cass is petrified all of Panem will see right through the dress, but Lyra assures her she'll be fine.

The only upside is her heels are only an inch this time.

The stylists curl her hair and pin is up, leaving a few tendrils falling in her face. Her eye shadow is a glittering blue that matches her dress and her lips are a light pink.

Cass wonders if Lark Everdeen will see her tonight, more beautiful than she's ever been. If he'll regret never talking to Cassiope Fletch before she was sent to her death for the crimes of her father.

She hopes he doesn't. She hopes he'll hate her like this, a pretty doll for the Capitol to play with. She hopes this isn't how she'll be remembered back in District 12.

Erik is dressed in a powder blue suit that nearly matches her dress. His curls have been tamed and his cheeks are pink. He almost looks too young to be in the Hunger Games at all.

"It's perfect," Cass mumbles as they wait in line to go on stage.

"I hate it," Erik whispers back.

"Good," Cass tells him, fixing his collar.

The interview goes okay.

Cass manages not to make an idiot of herself and when they watch the replay afterwards, she's surprised to see she actually comes off quite well, embarrassed and taken aback with the attention she's receiving, but pleased by it all the same.

Erik does just as well and when they watch the recap, both are surprised to hear just how loud the applause they receive from audience is. Magenta is beaming when the television shuts off. "Oh District 12 might have a victor just yet!"

For the first time, neither she nor Erik laughs.

"It's going to be cold," Lyra says as she helps Cass dress. Cass's eyes flicker back to the glass tube a few feet from them for the millionth time. "This jacket's insulated, so it should give you some help, but you'll want to find shelter."

Cass nods absently, eyes still on the tube.

"Cassiope?" She looks back to the stylist with her unnatural purple eyes, "Good luck."

Cass is slightly surprised to see tears on Lyra's cheeks, but it's a nice sort of surprise. A reminder that what's about to happen to her is sad, is wrong.

"Thank you," Cass replies.

A countdown begins.

They are walled in.

Not literally, but it certainly feels like it. The walls of a valley are raised all around them.

The tributes' platforms are surrounded by ice. They're on a frozen lake Cass realizes. The Cornucopia, filled to the brim with weapons and supplies, is in the middle. Unlike previous years where things have been spread out around the structure, this year everything is inside.

The ice looks thinner in front of her, but if Cass takes two steps back, she'll be on solid ground and can make a run for the forest. There's a light layer of snow and it will be uphill and difficult, but if she goes fast enough, the higher ground will give her an advantage on anyone who comes after, even if she has no weapon.

Cass's eyes flick towards the Cornucopia again. There's no guarantee she could make it there without the ice breaking and there's always the bloodbath at the beginning that will no doubt be far worse this year with the supplies so close together.

The gong rings out and Cass turns on her heel and runs.

The trees are unfamiliar at first, but Cass recognizes them vaguely, the name just on her tongue. She thinks she saw them when she was a child. Large skinny trees covered in needles as opposed to leaves that stay green in all weather. In the forest maybe, before it was fenced off. Before her father.

She hears the cannons ring out numerous times as she runs, but after sometime they peter out. She keeps going, not daring to stop yet. She didn't see who went into the fray and who followed her lead into the forest. But after several hours her muscles begin to ache and her throat is dry as sandpaper.

Cass finds a dense patch of bushes and falls to the ground, exhausted. Absently she scoops up some snow and shoves it in her mouth like she and Perri liked to do after gym class during the winter.

It is only after she swallows that she realizes her mistake. Who knows what's in this snow?

It's too late to do anything besides make herself throw up. Worse comes to worse, she dies of poisoned snow.

But after a while, she feels fine, so Cass decides the snow is probably ok. She grabs another handful and continues her run.

She goes like this for a while, taking small breaks for snow and rest. When the sun sets, she collects large broken tree branches and creates a poor excuse for a shelter that will do little more than hide her from any tribute not looking particularly hard.

When the anthem plays she stares up at the night sky through the needles and watches the dead children's faces above.

Eleven have died, a good number for the bloodbath. Erik's face is not among them. A small feeling of relief passes through Cass followed quickly by disappointment. She will not kill him, not her district partner, but if he doesn't die, she can't go home.

The next few days pass slowly.

Cass continues her path up the valley hills, keeping her hunger at bay with tree bark, needles, and the occasional berry bush, although the berries she can't identify she steers clear of. There are small animals everywhere, but without a weapon, the only thing they're useful for to Cass is seeing what is and isn't edible. She finds a creek the second day, but with nothing to carry the water in, she leaves it be and sticks with snow, which seems to increase by a few inches every night.

The temperature decreases constantly. Cass tries her hardest to avoid making a fire, knowing the wood around her will make too much smoke. She curls up into a tight ball when she sleeps and decides dying of frostbite is better than dying by another tribute's hand.

She runs into no one, but four more cannons boom. To keep her mind off her rumbling stomach, she counts the remaining tributes.

The boy from 1.

Both from 2.

The girl from 3.

The boy from 4.

The girl from 8.

The boy from 10.

Both from 12.

Nine left.

Cass can't remember a Hunger Games where both tributes from 12 were in the final eight and wonders if maybe this will be the first time.

On the fourth day, everything changes.

Cass decides to finally try climbing a tree and has made it several meters up when a loud crashing catches her attention.

She freezes, eyes trained on the direction in which the noise is coming from.

She's not sure what she expects but Erik running through the trees isn't it.

But that's what she gets and in her surprise, Cass loses her grip on the branch. Desperately trying not to fall off, she scrambled to grab ahold again and knocked a heavy amount of snow off the tree in the process.

Erik's head snaps towards her, his eyes wide.

"Help," he begs.

Cass knows, she knows, this is the last thing she should do.

She should ignore him, climb higher, or run away.

Anything, anything, other than what she does.

Which is drop to the ground and meet him at the base of the tree.

"They're after me," he tells her.

"Who?"

"1 and 2. Do you have a weapon?" She shakes her head and looks down at the bloody cleaver clenched in his right hand.

Oh right, she thinks faintly, Erik is the butcher's son.

She thinks she knows how he got that 8 in training.

There's the loud sound of footsteps from the direction Erik came in and the tall male tribute from 1 and the brutish girl from 2 come barreling through the trees.

"Aw look Ursa," 1 grins maniacally, "He found a friend."

"Get the girl Baize," the girl, Ursa, commands, "The baby is mine."

Baize obeys, tackling Cass before she can react. She fights him, clawing and kicking, but he'd be stronger even if Cass wasn't weak from hunger and before long he has her arms in a tight grip behind her back, forcing her to watch as Ursa and Erik circle one another.

"Think you're funny, do you?" Ursa sneers, "Trying to attack while we're defenseless?"

Cass wonders what Erik's done. Did she miss a cannon while she was in the tree? How had the small boy managed to get a drop on tributes twice his size?

Erik says nothing as Ursa continues to taunt him.

Cass continues to fight against Baize's hold on her. "Easy there sweetheart," he whispers in her ear, "Calm down and we can have some fun before I kill you."

He licks her ear and Cass's blood runs cold.

Ursa leaps and tackles Erik. The boy gets some good slices at her, but the District 2 tribute is stronger and before long she has him pinned down, cleaver knocked aside. The snow around them is pink with blood.

"You'll regret ever stepping foot in our camp," she hisses.

Erik spits in her face and Ursa lets out a wild cry, plunging the knife into his chest.

"No!" Cass screams.

The snow darkens to red as Ursa rips the knife out of Erik's chest, and stabs him again and again.

But with each fresh wound, Cass no longer sees Erik. Instead, it is Leo under Ursa's knife. Then Ori, then Rhys, Lark, Perri, her mother, her father. And then Cass just sees red.

"No!" she shrieks again, pushing off of Baize. The boy, surprised by her sudden strength, reels backwards, falling over, his head hitting the trunk of the tree Cass had been climbing almost minutes ago with a sickening crunch.

Ursa looks up at the noise, but she too is unprepared for Cass as the thinner girl launched herself at her.

The knife flies out of Ursa's hand, hitting the ground a few feet away as the two girls begin to grapple. Any other day, Ursa would win in a heartbeat, but today she's been weakened by her fight with Erik, still dripping blood from wounds on her arms and across her chest. And more importantly, Cass fights as a girl with nothing left to lose. She doesn't defend herself. Her only goal is to hurt, no, to kill the girl in front of her.

And it's this single focus that allows her to spot the glimmering blade in the snow, only an arm's length away now, still red with blood, as Ursa pays more attention to stopping Cass from worsening her wounds.

Cass grabs the knife and without hesitation, swipes it across the other girl's neck, just as she was taught in training.

Ursa falls back lifelessly. Her blood pours from her neck, coating Cass. But she pays little attention as she stumbles off the dead girl and falls next to Erik, dropping the knife next to his dead body as she fumbles to work the pack off his back.

It takes a few minutes, but she manages it and then makes her way over to Ursa and Baize and does the same. By the time she's finished, she's covered in the blood of all three fallen tributes and stumbles away, ignorant of the red footsteps she leaves behind her. She crashes through the bushes and the trees blindly until a tree root trips her up and Cass falls to the ground.

She lays motionless for a few seconds and all of Panem holds their breath. And then slowly she pushes herself up to a sitting position. Her eyes are trained on her bloody hands, a puzzled look on her face, as though she'd forgotten what happened.

Then she lets out a choked sob, and another, and another. She curls herself up into a ball and cries for Erik and Baize and Ursa and for herself and prays that someone, anyone, finds her and puts her out of her misery.

No one comes.

The sun sets and it rises and on the fifth day Cassiope Fletch is still alive.

She checks the contents of the packs she's taken. There are medical supplies, which she begrudgingly uses on her various scrapes and cuts, and a little food. Cass scarfs it all down before she can help herself and promptly vomits it back up.

There's a canteen with water she uses to clean the taste of sick out of her mouth and a sleeping bag she won't have much use for until that night.

She makes camp and starts a fire, almost daring another tribute to come find her. But she remains alone and miles away, Capitol announcers theorize the blood leading to Cass has scared the other tributes out of approaching.

As night settles over the forest and Cass warms herself, trying to think of anything but the blood she still sees on her hands despite washing it off, a flash of silver overhead catches her eye. Cass watches two silver parachutes make their way down to her. For a moment she hesitates, unsure if she wants them, but when they land several feet away, she scrambles to reach them, not sure what to expect.

The first one is food: chicken, bread and rice. Her stomach still turns at the sight of the food and she sets it aside for later.

She unwraps the second package careful. Cass guesses it will be more food, but it's not.

She drops the knife immediately, the blade is shining and clean, but Cass would recognize it anywhere.

It's Ursa's knife.

Cass knows it's not from a sponsor.

The Gamemakers have sent her this knife as a reminder.

She is not here to cry and run away and forget. She is here to kill.

The next morning, Cass stomps out the remainder of her fire, throws her supplies into Erik's backpack, grabs the knife and for the first time in the Games, heads down into the valley.

The snow melts on her way down and when she reaches the edge of the forest at dusk, she can see the ice on the lake is gone too. Not that it matters, the Cornucopia is empty. All the weapons and supplies that are left are piled high by the side of the lake and guarded by the District 2 boy.

He's been wounded badly, Cass guesses by Erik's cleaver, and doesn't seem to have much strength or blood left in him.

But all the same she waits for night to fall and for the anthem to play to sneak up behind him and cut his throat.

The kindest deaths, she decides, are the ones we don't see coming.

The others come to the lake one by one. Driven by their thirst or the Gamemakers, Cass hides and waits for them to approach the lake with a careful eye on the pile of supplies she hasn't touched.

They're so busy looking at the pile, they don't notice her until it's too late.

They're already dead, Cass reasons after each body falls, they were all dead the minute their names were chosen. Some just took a little longer than others to die. To kill them now is a blessing, the kindest thing Cass could do. What's the point of drawing out their pain?

After the last is gone, the boy from 4, Cass smiles and brings Ursa's knife to her own throat.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the 16th Annual Hunger Games, Cassiope Fletch of District Twelve!

The knife sends a jolt through her arm and Cassiope drops it in surprise. The hovercraft swoops down to get her before she even has a chance to pick it up again.

But Cassiope knows it doesn't matter.

President Cobb places the crown on her head with a wearisome sigh and offers her a half-hearted congratulation. A cheer goes up from the crowd. And Cass smiles with dead eyes, accepting their praise. They've thrown this party for her, this celebration she never asked for, but she just wants it to be over. Tomorrow she can return home and forget all about the Capitol for six months until they drag her back here for the so-called 'Victory Tour', a new tradition begun a few years back when the Capitol decided it was necessary to remind the districts of the Hunger Games halfway through the year, lest they forget.

She shakes the President's hand, and is directed to sit at the table on a raised platform at the front of the ballroom. The President takes a seat farther down as Avoxes emerge, carrying food around on platters for the guests. On her one side sits a female gamemaker, the other chair is empty at first.

But just as she's served, a young man takes the seat. She ignores him at first, as she planned to do to any Capitol guests that didn't speak directly to her. And at first it seems he intends to do the same. Until the Avox leaves along with the female gamemaker, pulled out of her seat by another guest with an invitation to dance.

"I hope the Capitol will be seeing more of you in the future Miss Fletch," he says.

Cass is startled by the words and she looks up into the young man's eyes. The cold blue stare of Coriolanus Snow looks back at her.

"Cassiope," he continues, "It's a lovely name. Do you know where it comes from?"

Cass's eyes dart around, but most of the table is empty. No one to save her.

"The stars," she murmurs, looking away, "It's the name of a constellation."

Her father had loved the stars and wanted to name all his children after them. Cass had a vague memory of him taking her out in the background and pointing to sky, drawing shapes in the stars with his fingers, though she never knew how he had learned of them.

"It is close," Snow chuckles, "I believe the true name is Cassiopeia. Named for a Greek Queen. Have you heard of Greece, Cassiope?"

She stares at him blankly and he laughs again. The sound sends a shiver down Cass's spine. "No I don't suppose you would have," he says, "It was an ancient land, destroyed long ago. Do you want to hear Queen Cassiopeia's story?"

Cass does not, but she also doesn't want dare and refuse Snow, so she nods.

Snow smiles, his teeth a blinding white. "Cassiopeia was a beautiful woman and she knew it. She boasted herself to be even more beautiful than the gods. But the gods did not take kindly to her vanity and threatened to destroy her land with a flood. To appease them, Cassiopeia sacrificed her daughter, but the gods decided this wasn't good enough and decided she should still be punished as well. So they tied her to a chair in the heavens that turned her upside-down for half the year." Snow gives another sickly smile. "Personally I think the gods could have done a lot worse."

"You think she got off easy?" Cassiope says before she can stop herself.

Snow looks delighted by her question. "Oh yes. She thought she was better than the gods! I think the punishment for not knowing one's place should be much worse."

Suddenly the point of the story becomes quite clear and Cass looks away.

"Still," Snow says, putting a hand on her shoulder as he stands up, "A lovely name, Cassiope."

Cass has always loved her name. She knew no one else with it and considered it a gift from her father. But now it feels just as tainted as the rest of her.

It's appropriate, Cass thinks as she boards the train the next day, she should leave the name behind in the Capitol. She isn't Cassiope Fletch anymore. That girl died in the arena besides Erik, bloody in the snow.

Now she's just Cass. Cass the hunter, Cass the murderer.

Cass the Victor.

A/N- The story of Cassiopeia doesn't go quite as Snow says (although it's very close), but after so many years I think it's safe to assume some stories have gotten a little messed up.

Wow, I've been writing this story for a ridiculously long time considering it's only got two chapters. It's kind of a relief to finally finish and publish it. It's my only Hunger Games story which is crazy considering how much Hunger Games fics I read. I'm sure the premise has been done before, but I'm pretty proud of my spin on it, and I hope you all like it.