#caspian fletcher

[61sthungergames-blog]

[61sthungergames-blog]

Caspian and Perennial first night in the Arena

Three hours of running and walking as far away from the Cornucopia as they could manage, without much in the way of supplies in their two packs - Caspian's the larger and heavier of the two, of course - and the buildings were shrinking in height, becoming more brightly coloured. They passed a smaller building, facade painted garishly red, gold, and blue, peeling. The tiled roof seemed to be mostly attached, and they hadn't seen anyone in ages.

Caspian paused outside it. Something about it felt familiar to him, though he wasn't quite sure what. There was nothing like it in District 11, with decorations like the ones on the corners of the roof a luxury no one could afford. The colours were much brighter than anything he had seen before the Capitol, and vastly different shades than the candy colours there. The streets were grimy grey and littered with debris, mostly old brick from the collapsing storefronts on the other side of the street. The area was drastically different from where they started. He rather liked it.

"Do you think we should go in?" he asked Perennial, who had stopped beside him.

"For a break," she said. "I'm tired and it would be good to see what we've got in these packs." She wasn't crying, but Caspian knew that she had been up the entire night last night, and with the adrenaline wearing off, she needed to sleep. He did too, really.

"Okay," he said, and pushed open the door, which made a faint tingling noise of bells. Inside the building was a maze of trinkets, unlike anything from District 11, all of it covered in a thick layer of dust. Caspian grasped Perennial's hand and weaved his way through the aisles. They reached a counting machine, where people must have once bought these things. Behind that was a door.

He moved forward to push the door, but Perennial grabbed his hand. "We can just stay behind the till. The door could be trapped, and we'll hear anyone who comes in before they see us."

Caspian paused, and then pulled Perennial into the space behind the counter. She giggled, a little bit of the tension lifting from their shoulders, and pulled her pack in front of her. "Let's sort this out."

Going through her pack they found a lightweight sleeping bag, and Caspian laid it out and looked meaningfully at her.

Perennial stifled a yawn, but shook her head. "Your pack too." He frowned, but he did as she told him. The sooner he did, the sooner she would sleep, he knew.

Some rope, some food, some water, a long curved knife, and a blanket came out of his pack, and then they were done. They piled all of their things to one side, and Perennial slipped into the sleeping bag, pulling off her boots and outer layers. She sat up, sleeping bag falling around her waist to show an excess of skin, and pulled Caspian towards her, kissing him soundly. "Thank you for being here," she said.

He kissed her back. "Sleep well, love," he said, and sat just beyond the edge of the counter, keeping watch. Perennial curled up and slept soundly through the night.

Caspian kept watch for an hour, and then exhaustion forced him to close his eyes and fall into an uneasy sleep.

[61sthungergames-blog]

Caspian comforts Perennial

They stopped training for lunch. The food was good, but Caspian didn't have much of an appetite - not while he watched Perennial aimlessly push her meal around her plate until it reminded him of nothing more than mush. Nobody liked to eat mush, for all that they were accustomed to it.

Perennial refused to meet his eye, staring at her plate, and Caspian didn't push it. They were halfway through lunch, when he eventually said, softly, in a voice just for them, "hey."

Perennial looked up at him, and instantly looked away again. Tears were welling up again, even though she had been working so hard to suppress them. "Penny," he said, tenderly, soothingly.

She pushed her chair out, and ran to the shadows of the corners of the training room. Calmly, Caspian stood and followed. He could feel the eyes of some of the other tributes burning into his back, but he ignored them all. He had one priority, in all of this, and she was it.

She had stopped behind the survival stations - plant identification, this one. Her back was pressed up against the wall, knees buckling partway. If he hadn't come shortly, she would have ended up in a ball on the floor. He slid his arms around her waist, supporting her upright, and instinctively, she leaned into him.

They stood in silence for a while, Perennial's tears making a wet patch on Caspian's shirt. It was Perennial who spoke first, voice low and quaking. "You shouldn't have come, Casp. They'll kill you and they'll kill me too."

Caspian smiled sadly, the smile of someone in love with someone in pain. "I couldn't imagine a world without you in it," he answered, voice pitched low, them against the world.

Perennial's tears continued unabated, punctured by hiccoughs at irregular intervals. They pulled closer together, and Caspian stroked her hair gently. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he whispered, turning the words into a chant as they clung together until they would be called back for more training.

[61sthungergames-blog]

Caspian comforts Perennial

They were supposed to be sleeping, but Caspian had slipped out of his room and over to hers. He wrapped his arms around her while she sobbed, heaving sobs without the tears that had long ago dried right up. He stroked her hair, pulling her into his chest.

"Penny, Penny, it's fine, it's fine. I'm here, I'm here." He repeated it like a mantra, over and over.

Her sobs slowed and stopped. "I know," she whispered. She breathed in then, broken and ragged.

"I won't let them hurt you," he told her.

She smiled and lay down on her bed, patting the space beside her. Caspian gratefully took the offered place, wrapping his arms around her as she fell asleep, until her warmth and finally steady breathing lulled him into sleep as well.

[61sthungergames-blog]

Caspian Volunteers

Perennial stood quivering on the stage, staring blankly into space, tears streaming down her pretty face. Her shock was palpable, and from his place in the audience, Caspian could see the terror written all over his girlfriend's face.

The Capitol presenter had dipped her hand into the reaping ball once again, and pulled out a slip of paper before Caspian had the chance to even hope that the name she called would be his own. He realised in that second of anticipation that that was exactly what he wanted, but it was too late for it. "Tiller Mayweed," she pronounced, and he began to push through the crowd to reach the stage, sometimes easily, and sometimes with some difficulty.

The boy was twelve or maybe thirteen, small and weak, didn't stand a chance. It was instantly obvious that while he looked plenty courageous enough, he didn't have the stamina or strength to really fight. He stood solidly, but no one in the square was pleased by his selection, and Caspian least of all. He couldn't help Perennial.

The Capitol woman then looked out into the crowd, and completed the formalities. "Are there any volunteers to take this boy's place in this year's Hunger Games?"

Caspian's head jerked upwards with realization. It wasn't just a formality. It was an opportunity. The Careers always did it, so why shouldn't he? 

"I volunteer!"

Even though he had already decided, the sound of his own voice surprised him. But he didn't flinch as the Capitol woman with her bizarrely long fingers beckoned him forward.

Perennial recoiled as firmly as if she had been punched in the stomach, caught and shoved back upright by the Peacekeepers at the back of the stage. "No!" she screamed, "no!" It didn't matter. He had already decided his own fate, and he wasn't going to let her go alone. The crowds parted around him as he walked up towards the stage. He walked up the stairs, shaking Tiller's hand before the younger boy left the stage and disappeared into the crush of people.

"Well, well, District Eleven! We have a volunteer!" The Capitol woman was thrilled, evidently, and her smile was terrifying. "And what is your name?"

"Caspian Fletcher," he replied firmly, not looking at her. Instead, he looked out into the audience, where the fact that he was hopelessly in love with Perennial was clearly spreading like wildfire, a story out of control.

"Well, well, congratulations Mr. Fletcher! We look forward to seeing you in these Games!" She beamed at him, and he tried to smile back. "Now if the two tributes would just shake hands now."

Caspian held his hand out toward Perennial, who reluctantly took it. He took the moment to try and say everything he needed to. Forgive me, he asked wordlessly, I had to, but she refused to hold his gaze.