#p4e task

Her stylists would show up.

She’d tell them she wasn’t wearing whatever they brought this year. 

She’d stand on a stage.

Two tributes would be chosen, and two kids would volunteer for the chosen.

She’d take those volunteers to the Capitol. 

The reaping were always the same. Except for four years prior to this very morning, when the daughter she’d been forced to give up had been called onto the stage. She’d had to bite her tongue when the peacekeeper forced her to the stage without her cane, but at least someone had volunteered for her. Someone who’d later died before the games even officially started. 

But that’d been four years ago. That’d been before Valkaryie had been born. That had been when Alana was finally getting better and Trixanna was counting down the days until her mother had been declared in remission and she could tell the president to stuff it when he arranged for personal time with a sponsor. 

Surely it was only a coincidence then, the odds playing not in Scout’s favor. It wouldn’t happen again. 

Today, had been like every other reaping day except that of the 72nd games. Her stylist had brought her something pink, again, to which she’d declined to wear. Black slacks, the deepest crimson silk blouse she owned and of course - a black leather jacket despite the heat of the May sun in District Two. Her leather jackets were almost a form of protection now, if she was wearing one she couldn’t be hurt. 

She was sat next to her mother, amongst the several other victors of Two, Valkaryie climbing between their laps as the district square filled up. Trixanna watched in near silence as everything went on around her, icy eyes following peace keepers and their escort and the children as they filed in. Her eyes paused for just a second as they landed on a familiar girl, sixteen now and accompanied by a service dog, as she moved to stand with the other sixteen year olds. 

The feeling of fluttering movements in her stomach, the sound of an infant crying in the dark, the urgency to find the baby a new home - a home close to her biological mother… Trixanna blinked and looked away from the girl, glancing to her mother and taking Val back as the toddler reached for her mother. “Ouch. That hurts.” She muttered absentmindedly, pulling Valkaryie’s hand from her hair. ‘Sowwy!’ Valkaryie whimpered before being hugged to her mother’s chest. “It’s okay baby, just be careful.”

Her life continued to spin around her for several more moments, flurrying as people moved and the escort spoke of the dark days and eventually called a name. She didn’t register the name at first. It never mattered. Someone always volunteered. She even knew the girl’s name, kind of - Artemis or Athena or something with an A, right? But she heard Valkaryie shout something about a puppy and not petting it and icy eyes snapped up to look at the girl as she walked up the stairs to the stage and her world stilled.

What were the odds that one girl would be reaped twice? Or better yet, that she’d be volunteered for twice especially when the first girl who’d volunteered for her had died before the timer made it to zero? Trixanna’s blood ran cold as a volunteer was asked for and none volunteered, not a single hand raised to take the place of the girl who couldn’t see, of the child Trixanna had thought she’d hidden away well enough. 

It hit her then, four years ago hadn’t been a coincidence… Now wasn’t a coincidence. Snow knew and this was him proving as such to her - no one lied to the president and got away with it. It’d be a miracle is Scout made it passed the bloodbath, much less to victory. All the odds would have to be in her favor. 

“I… I’m going to the train.” She told the other victors, shifting Val on her hip and then looking to her mother, “I’ll see you in a couple weeks, Mama.” She pressed a kiss to Alana’s cheek before turning and quickly disappearing from view in the direction of the train that would be waiting for her and the rest of District Two’s team. She was on the verge of tears and she’d be damned if she let Snow have the pleasure of seeing that. She clutched Valkaryie a little tighter to her chest as she stepped onto the train and moved in the direction of a room with a door, secluding herself behind the mahogany door and locking the silver door handle. 

She couldn’t do this.

How could she be expected to do this?

Her daughter? 

The very child she’d thought she was protecting?

She let out a sob as she crumpled against the door, Valkaryie looking up at her mother in bewilderment and asking a ‘what wrong momma?’ Trixie only shook her head and kissed her daughter’s head. She couldn’t say what was wrong, even now, she couldn’t say. She couldn’t speak into words that Scout Daniels was her daughter, the result of a teenaged fling fueled by the high that was victory, but her daughter none the less and loved even if only from a distance. 

@scoutfromtwo​