pride of the heart // silk + emmett {jb}

It was always destined that this generation of the Le Roux clan would fight and spill blood in the arena that had made their name in the first place. One had already entered said arena and escaped not in a coffin, but still holding on to her own life. After such a victory, after the family had been thrust into the limelight of the entire nation, continuing down the covert path that you had been groomed and molded into for your entire life had had the stakes upped tenfold.

It didn't make the act any more difficult. Even the limelight of the Hunger Games could not uncover a conspiracy that had been lying low in the shadows for eight and a half decades. But when Ridley, the black sheep of the family, had won, there had been scrutiny nonetheless. A year had passed, and then a neighboring Career boy from Four with his own deep dark family secrets had won and taken the heat off of your family name for a year.

And now it was back. But not through your own actions, or even that of a black sheep cousin - no, this time one of her numerous younger siblings had stepped up and decided that he would take that scrutiny on headfirst.

The head and all of its calculations said that it was perfect; with someone who was not the heir taking the focus and potentially the fall for the family, your own preparations to become the next matriarch of the family could continue unchallenged for a number of weeks, if not months. The heart spoke otherwise - you were still a teenage girl, and the hot-headed idiot that had just volunteered in place of a no-name boy for the Hunger Games was still your little brother.

So you waited. As the heir, you could have claimed priority as second only to your mother, a fierce lioness in her own right. As the eldest sister with one of the few rational heads in the entire family, you knew that your purpose would better be served as one of the last. The last thing that someone hears is what sticks with them the most, after all.

So when it is your turn, scant minutes before the visiting hours were to come to a close, you waste no time with pleasantries or even just awkward standing around. You're far too dignified to let something such as tension stand in the way of doing what you want. "Let me guess," you begin, a knowing smile crossing your face. "Mom and the others wasted no time ripping you a new one, am I correct?"

You cross the room and envelop Emmett - your little brother - into a tight hug. "Well, you don't need to worry about that from me, Em." Ever the diplomat, even though this time the honeyed words come as much from the heart as the head. "This is your moment, and I'm here for you - so tell me what you need right now. Reassurance? A shoulder to cry upon?" Your smile turns into a wry, teasing smirk. "A demand to get the hell away so you can begin your path to glory?"

Your heart hadn't felt like this since Ridley was plucked from the bowl a mere two years ago. But you're much better at composing yourself this time - and while there will be time for letting the shock and grief sink in, right now there possibly couldn't be a worse time to let it all go.

And besides. You're far too professional to let your emotions rule you. Even if you might be forever saying goodbye to a beloved sibling.