Chapter 1: Pilot

District 12

The moment Katniss arrived home was the day Prim cried the most. She didn't dare let go for fear of her sister disappearing and being sent to play in those hellish games once more. Like Prim, Katniss seemed to share her feelings as the older girl wrapped her arm around the youngest Everdeen and pulled her closer; both of them relishing in the warmth and presence of the other. It was seconds later another body wrapped itself around them both as their mother joined the tearful reunion

That was how all three members of the Everdeen family spent ten minutes of their lives; hugging each other and crying in relief as well as being glad the hard times were finally over, for now at least.

Following that day Prim spent her days and nights beside Katniss, the older girl not minding a single bit as both sisters went everywhere together. Sometimes Gale or Peeta would join them but both boys seemed to understand that it was best for the siblings to spend their time with each other.

Now after three months, everything has settled back to normal; or at least as normal as it can get in the districts. Katniss had nightmares the first few nights after she returned. During then Prim had taken it upon herself to be there each and every night to calm her sister and wake her from her dreams. She was there to hold her when she cried, cried about the things she did and the people she lost.

Rue, Katniss would always murmur. Prim remembered the eleven-year-old girl from District 11. She was only three years younger than her just a year ago. Now the age gap was bigger by a year and would continue to grow since the young girl had died way too soon.

They stayed in that routine for a good three weeks until the nightmares began to appear less. Instead of every night, it was every few days–maybe a day or two later and on a good night maybe three. But that was all.

Prim didn't complain one bit about the late nights and lack of sleep. Katniss had volunteered for her and faced the hells of the arena; having to kill fellow children younger and older than her. Now in their third month, Katniss' nightmares have all but disappeared but the trauma still held on, something that Prim knew but for the sake of not wanting Katniss to worry she remained ignorant and naive.

4 Months later

Prim sat at the dinner table working away at her sketchbook–a gift that Haymitch had gotten her—that was filled with drawings of nature; or at least what was left in District 12.

"Where did your sister go this time?" her mom asked her, walking into the dining room and placing a tray of freshly baked cookies down.

Prim grabbed one of the sweets and shrugged. "I'm not sure, Peeta went by this morning and Katniss went with him. They mentioned going scavenging for some herbs."

Mrs. Everdeen nodded and mirrored Prim's action. Grabbing a piece of her own and taking a bite of the delicacy they once thought impossible to have just months ago.

Everything in the house was because of Katniss and Peeta. Half of the things here Prim wasn't even aware of being real. But Haymitch had told her the stuff they owned in the Victor's village–even though they were considered luxurious in the districts–were a few years behind the ones in the capital.

"Well as long as they're back in time for dinner."

Prim nodded and continued with her drawing. Right now she was working on a picture of a mother deer along with its fawn as they trekked through a forest. Any other time she would have gone with Katniss to the forest but today she was hunting along with Peeta who she was teaching. But from the stories Katniss told her, Peeta had learned a lot during their training sessions before the games.

On other occasions Peeta would help her with her art; after all, he was the one who decorated the cakes at the bakery and from what she'd seen him draw a piping bag and coloured pencils weren't as different as you'd think.

She liked days like these when everything was calm. The weather outside was nice and the breeze that would come in through the window while she drew felt amazing. Often times she would wonder–while she drew–what it would be like to live somewhere far with only nature as your company; but some things will always be a dream no matter how much you wonder if it could be true.

The Capital

Perseus Snow, the grandson of President Coriolanus Snow, was making his way back home from the academy. He had just finished his homework at the academy's gigantic library before being picked up by one of the Snow family's chauffeurs.

"How was school today, Young Master?"

"Oh, you know the drill, Leopold. It was like any other day, bland," Percy sighed as he scrolled through his phone.

Leopold smiled from the driver's seat knowing that his young charge was practically ready to head to the arena and begin his daily evening workout. But that wouldn't be the case as he had gotten a call from the president's secretary to bring the teen to his grandfather's office at the garden.

"When we get to the arena you can go and take your break; I won't be heading home today and will be staying at the family apartments."

The apartments were found directly across from the private arena built only for the Snow family and its staff. Mainly the family's private security force trained there early in the mornings and halfway through the afternoon after they've had their lunch and a small break.

"Apologies, Young Master, but you're grandfather has requested your presence today." Leopold watched from the rearview mirror and frowned at the sour face his young master did.

"Guess he found out," Leopold heard him wince.

"Well then I guess I'll postpone my workout for tomorrow," Percy said nonchalantly. But inside he was positively nervous.

The car stopped directly in front of the manor where Percy got out quick with a quick bid farewell to the greying man. "No need to pick me up after school tomorrow. I'll be heading to the training center with Darius."

Leopold nodded and started the car, leaving through the front gates and silently praying for the young master's safety.

Percy watched the man leave and took a breath before turning to head into the house. A nearby maid grabbed his satchel and went to bring it upstairs to his room while he went to shower before meeting with his grandfather. It was a habit that was well ingrained into him by both his etiquette tutor and grandfather who berated him for smelling like a labourer.

The shower was quick due to not wanting his grandfather to wait. So after getting dressed in casual home wear with a temporary jacket for when he walked to and from the garden office. It wasn't far from the main house but still, a few minutes walk as his grandfather preferred the serene atmosphere the solitude brought.

"Grandfather, it's me, Percy. Leopold mentioned that you were looking for me?" Percy asked from the other side of the mahogany door.

A simple "Enter" was his reply.

Percy walked inside and closed the twin doors only to be faced by the seen of his grandfather sitting behind his desk fingers clasped and his blue eyes glinting with barely hidden anger.

"What the hell were you thinking boy, joining the Hunger Games without informing me?" Coriolanus said slowly and sternly, his blue eyes piercing Percy's sea green.

Percy said as if it was the most obvious answer, "You were a mentor for the tenth annual reaping."

Coriolanus urged him to continue with a quirk of his brow.

"When I asked if I could possibly mentor for one of the other districts you declined."

"And so you decided to join the Hunger Games," his grandfather questioned but it was more like a statement.

Percy chose not to answer, sensing that his grandfather was not yet done. "Do you want to be sent away to one of the…districts? Because I assure you from your…recent actions, I am not dismissive of this request."

"...I would much prefer…if I wasn't," Percy said slowly.

"Then what made you think joining the Hunger Games was a better idea?!"

His grandfather hardly yelled and Percy could count on one hand the number of times he caught his grandfather doing so.

Knowing that he had to choose his words carefully. Percy took a few seconds to reply–or at least he wished it were a few seconds, not wanting to make his already irate grandfather even angrier.

"Instead of being a mentor for a district and potentially not doing enough for your tribute to survive; why not be the tribute and win for your own sake."

His grandfather took a few minutes to study him and analyze his reasoning. Of course, Percy did his best by playing by his grandfather's core values: ambition and power.

"What would the people of Panem feel knowing that their future leader not only came from Snow blood and was taught by the greatest president to have lived; but was also a victor amongst the Games–which have been running for decades."

"It is just like you said grandfather, these games are here to remind us of those dark times that the whole of Panem would have faced if the rebellion had proved successful; after all, the districts were not thinking of the negative effects of what they were trying to achieve and their means to achieve that. The treaty of treason is there for everyone to remember that we all could've succumbed to the district's greed and it is through the games that remind us of those times."

Percy took a breath.

"Grandfather, if I, your heir, show that I am willing to join the games as a participant then won't it be a great way to show the importance of the games?"

Percy found himself on a roll. "Look at it this way grandfather, when the citizens of the capital find out that I completely agree to the point that I've entered myself in and voluntarily if I may add; won't it just show that the games are right and that they are essential to preventing what almost happened several decades ago?"

"The games are so important that even I, a Snow of all people. Fucking competes in it as a tribute with my life on the line!" Percy shouted to himself, his eyes gleaming madly.

"Now!" Percy turns to face his grandfather. "Add the fact that their future president is a winner of the games and is also the very first volunteer from the capital; it paints us in a new light. It makes us look strong, the Snow bloodline is strong and will forever be strong."

Percy found himself pouring his own glass, and taking a sip of the aged wine before taking a seat.

Coriolanus Snow listened on as his grandson presented his argument. It was strong and bold, that much he could attest to, but still it had one too many plotholes–and he hoped Perseus would rectify it. Number one, what was stopping the citizens from sponsoring his grandson? Number two, there will be a chance all districts will temporarily ally together to kill him—he knew that was a very viable reason for a few of the districts–and lastly, but with many others, he'd not mention; what if he were to lose?

Before Coriolanus went to respond, what came next made him smile–albeit faint–as his first two plotholes were answered without his urging.

Percy held up a finger, a bold action, especially against his grandfather. "What is important…is that I-no," he stared over his wine glass at his grandfather. " We won't be informing the capital. No, I will reveal myself once I win the games and that is when the people will find out."

Percy took a small sip of his wine before continuing.

"This will also prevent the sponsorships that'll no doubt be sent my way due to biases and personal gain; plus I won't have as big as a target painted on my back for any tributes that may come looking for me."

With that all said and clarified Percy allowed himself to relax slightly. As it was not wise to portray yourself as vulnerable against the man in front of him even if he was his grandfather.

Now having finished listening to his grandson, Coriolanus replied. "And your reason for choosing to become the male tribute for District 12?" he asked as he poured himself a glass of the red wine.

Percy shrugged. "Simple really, you mentored District 12's tribute. So why not this time a Snow will become their tribute instead; seems pretty symbolic, is it not?" he smirked as he eyed the smooth redlike blood–liquid in his cup.

A heavy silence rang between the two, only broken by the soft swish–kind of like a whispering voice–of the cold breeze. This caused both men to look out the tall floral patterned windows of the garden office. One second it showed only the dark sky until it began to be painted by soft white shapes of all sizes that seemingly floated down ever so softly.

"Seems like winter has finally arrived," Percy casually hummed.

"Will it be light or heavy, that is the real question," his grandfather whispered.

"Indeed," Percy murmured.

Both men shared one last look before simultaneously finishing the contents of their glasses. Right then and there upon placing their empty glasses on the desk an agreement was made between the two, one that made the other smile and the other sigh.

But within that agreement, a single sentence struck.

"Winning is everything"