She was a woman who only ever loved victory, and he was a man who only ever loved his friends. She was the woman whom everyone admired, and he was an admirer. She was a woman with a frozen heart, and he was a man with an even colder heart. They've m...
"You've no right to a braid, you've won no victories."
- Daenerys Targaryen, Game of Thrones
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Her mind was in a haze. Breathing uneven and rapid as the recent events had just played inside her mind like a broken cassette tape. Looking down to her hands felt like a punishment from the gods, she hated the feeling of it. Her hands were covered in blood stains, scratches, and bruises clearly showing the battle that she had fought both internally and externally. Jumping off the roof from where she stood, everyone in the underground cheered her on, surrounding her as they rewarded her with gifts. A penny for one, a bottle of wine, a necklace for another, these people giving and giving as if it were theirs to begin with. "What's your name young lad?" One of them asked.
The adrenaline still coursing through her veins, her dilated pupils looking directly at the person who asked for her name. Opening her mouth she spoke with clear superiority and practiced nobility. "I am Allani Snow, the victor of the 10th Hunger games."
Walking to the exit of the underground, she clung to the cloak she was given as she seeked warmth she longed for from her parents. Her neck was heavy in necklaces she was gifted, hands full with gifts and knives, almost slipping in every step she took to get out of the underground that reeked of death. Are her parents proud? She won but at what cost? All the gold would now be given to her as a form of agreement that whomever the victor, they shall get the gold of the 11 runners. The light of the sun became clearer to her now, nearing the entrance where a carriage stood, waiting for her arrival. It seems news spread fast as she was greeted with a small congratulations (then again she was the only one alive so it was already a given), the door of the carriage opened by her escort. Giving out a meek thanks, she entered the carriage and dropped all the gifts in one area, sitting down and exhaling all the guilt out of her.
What was the point of congratulating her? Congratulating her for surviving a disgusting game set up by the people of the past, a small game they thought of while drinking? To make matters worse, she can't even grieve over the death of the runners because she knew deep down that should she be the one dead, they'd be celebrating and going on with their lives, not once caring nor remembering the faces of those they've killed. Then again, who is she to blame them? They were victors once, twice, or more, to put it simply; they were veterans, the only thing keeping them going would be the fact that if they didn't, they would die either way. It just so happened that their doom would be her entering the game.
Her hands were still shaking the entire ride back to her parent's mansion. 'Fix yourself Allani. You are a Snow, the victor of the 10th Hunger games. Act like it.' She scolded herself.
The carriage came to a stop and the muffled words from the escort let her know that they had arrived at the mansion. Straightening her back, she stepped off the ride and was immediately greeted by her mother and father, standing with all their might by the grand entrance of their home. Home?
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