Fools For Sacrifice || River
@river-nereus
“I volunteer as tribute!” The words had left his lips without hesitation when it was Blight’s name drawn at The Reaping of the Quarter Quell, taken only from a pool of each District’s previous victors regardless of age or health. It came as quite a surprise as a hush fell over everyone when he so readily volunteered for the man - who was more than capable of handling himself still - as Luca wasn’t a fighter by nature. And while they were friendly, it wasn’t the kind of bond to die over. Luca was smart and humble and somewhat charming. Qualities that put him among the Capitol favorites following his own victory. But he was very much aware of something that he had come to conclude the moment Snow announced they’d be going back in. He knew who else would be in the Arena.
One person in particular. He knew even before The Reapings had begun.
District Four only had two female victors currently alive - and only one actually fit to go in again. He knew there was no way River would have ever let that poor girl Annie go to slaughter. Watching her volunteer - through a television screen no less - still hit harder than he anticipated. He’d been drinking steadily and sleeping less since the announcement and subsequent realization of what it meant to him personally, what was at stake.
And so he’d stood on the stage for District Seven, features hardened and worn with burdens both past and present, awaiting his decided fate along with Johanna Mason, his District’s female tribute and one he'd even recently mentored for her own games.
Luca knew River was watching from the train. He knew he couldn’t let her go in alone. He’d sooner start an uprising himself if he had to just stand by and watch her in there, knowing the odds. He’d kept so much from her, from everyone, in order to try and protect her in the long run. None of it was about to matter anymore. It was likely neither of them would make it out. But if one of them was going to survive, it would be her. He was going to do everything in his power to see to it.
His secrets were not going to die on his tongue along with him either.
The Peacekeepers basically herded them from the stage toward the train and Luca voiced his agitation as they ushered him along last - clearly not in as much of a hurry as they were. “I know where I’m going,” he’d protested, and he did. He’d been on this particular train before. They all had.
He stepped over the threshold of the train with his thoughts and emotions weighing heavy on his shoulders, air thick with tension as he awaited the moment he’d face her. He didn’t even know what he was going to say, but then he never really had much problem playing things off-the-cuff. Still, the voice in his head kept reminding him he was a dead man walking so he should be wise with what time he had left. The train doors closed behind him abruptly with that thought in mind.
