arissa krigel [ district four . fin ]

a r i s s a.

For a second -- for a good goddamned second -- I truly believed Leon had died.

The second that knife was put to his throat by his own hand, I did not shake, in all in the world that is good I froze; everything he and mother dreamed of, everything they had ever put on the line had paid off for them. And for a single second, I thought the heavens blessed me, saved me from the curse in the form of that blade. Mother froze for a good reason, she was about to lose her eldest son, she was about to lose that crown and I would be just one year closer to being out of this reaping. Arissa, though, I was frozen by the work of Hades. I was frozen because I thought, for a single second, that I would be truly happy. 

No doubt plagues my mind that I love my brother, Blaise and I came in this world together, and for nineteen years I have been stuck behind his blond hair (no matter that we had the same crown on our head, his was always golden and mine was just bronze in their eyes.) Our marble skin matched and sharp eyebrows as mini bows on us, yet somehow Blaise's was always glorified. Gorgeous, stunning, for a boy he was always perfect. Even mother knew it, that he was the sun blessed on this earth. Me, I was just another 'piece of ass' to those men too weak to actually get any -- never from me anyways, I was always stronger than the ones like my brother.

Maybe I was only hoping too much, that after all that work the gods would bless me enough to let Blaise throw all of it away. That after eight days and twenty three deaths, after taking three lives, that he would be strong enough for just one more. However, I knew from the second he stood on that stage that he would return; my brother was no failure, he was always too perfect for his own sanity. No, I knew all along that he would return, because for seventeen years than and an addition of two now, he has always beat me out for every crown, every damn victory. 

For nineteen years, Blaise has always been a victor.

Once he stepped back on that stage, I knew that I was no longer a career. I had always been graceful with a bow; goddess in the training room, with every arrow that flew between my slender fingers, I had been flawless. Of course, Blaise could always best me at archery, but hand to hand, he was never as agile as me. Every close fight in the games, every time blood flowed from between his sun-kissed skin cells, I could have made them drown in their own already. My only mistake was not doing anything, was sitting in that living room and watching for eight days as he made an empire out of foolish mistakes built on foolish mistakes.

"Only an idiot would die for a crown," the last words I said to him, Blaise, not Leon the Victor, Blaise, my brother. Only an idiot would die for a crown, ten times smarter than him, I knew going into the games was unsafe, but I was always too smart as he was always too perfect. Ten times smarter, but he was no idiot. Blaise was gorgeous as me, but I needed less than the approval of others to know it; Blaise was decent enough, and blessed by the gods such as I was cursed by the same. I could have came out like Cricket Antionette, flawlessly, but I was never meant to be a queen. 

Only a twin.

---

It's all in the lion's mane.

They always mentioned how beautiful Leon was - blond crown weightless on his head, soft ice linking through his soul, crazed figure and a light soul in its wake. I never needed their consolations, they fed it all to me through Blaise. Never was a word spoken to me without it being poisoned laced by a weak man's lust, but unlike Leon, I never needed it. Damn could he build a crowd, but I was never one to need the attention.

Genes blessed us both, and unlike his, that constantly zipped open for some hook-up just to feed his time, just to waste away another virgin's blessing, mine was just for play. In a victor's family, I was just a huntress, but we all have our hobbies. Ripping virginities right out of an orgasm or taunting the weak willed, a stress relief was all it was. They were my chew toys, rucksacks taking each pinpoint side eye like an arrow. So close to the sea, yet all these men seem to be so crusty. All they need is a weak sign; half-assed hair twist, larger than normal smile, a single fake sip of their spiked drinks that ended up in the closest potted plant, and then in their mind they're swimming in the glory that comes with being a first.

I've never laid with a man, we all have our strong suits. 

Mother always expected me too, or at least to marry rich if I never crowned. In fact, she still waits for my hand in marriage, Blaise had brought in enough money with his victor title, but unless we were both successful she wasn't proud. We're on a lion's pact, some unspoken noble word by the time we are born, yet I may as well be sleeping with the sheep, if Blaise hadn't already done it first.