The Escort Games 1 (Commission, Hunger Games) (Patreon)

“Well, that was a thing,” Ambrose Silver mused as the announcement was made. Annoying that the two chose to try to commit suicide. Well, annoying for the majority of Capitol, but it made things interesting for him.

It was rare that he’d check his accounts before the auctions began, but he knew Cinna. The man is a bleeding heart; he’d ignore the opportunity to have the most significant return on investment in the history of the Hunger Games. Pulling up his account, Ambrose considered.

Ambrose leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the armrests. His eyes were fixed on the computer screen before him, scrolling through the numbers that represented his assets. He had never been one to obsess over his finances, but the thought of missing out on the biggest opportunity in the history of the Hunger Games made him uneasy.

He knew Cinna too well; the man had a heart of gold and a soft spot for the tributes. Ambrose, on the other hand, saw them as nothing more than commodities to be bought and sold. But even he couldn't deny the potential profit from owning the winning tribute, let alone the profits he’d get from both of them.

As he studied the figures on the screen, his mind raced with the possibilities. He could purchase ten average tributes, though it would drain his account. But with the stunt the two this year pulled, they’d run for a lot more. Turning his attention to another screen, he pulled up the Auction House. As he suspected, both were already approaching twice the average price. Each. Cinna was currently in the lead, as was to be expected.

Checking his other accounts, Ambrose thought as quickly as he could. He was in a good position, equipment, and resource-wise. He’d have to cancel his planned vacation next month, and he wouldn’t be able to attend his preferred food venues for a time, but the potential in these two made it more than worth it. Moving funds, he simultaneously put in a bid.

It was instantly exceeded by Cinna, of course. As was to be expected. With as many funds as could be gathered on short notice, Ambrose made his bid. In a matter of seconds, the price for Everdeen and Mellark rose, rapidly eclipsing the previous record, the one for the Odair boy a few years back. Others dropped out of the running, and soon it was between Ambrose, Cinna, and a name that Ambrose didn’t recognize. A glance at the time showed that the Auction had another hour left; he’d check on his various other assets, see if he could offer any of them.

Unfortunately, none of the people in charge of said assets were responding. They were probably watching the Auction, which from another glance, showed that Cinna must have called in every single favor and scrap of funds he had, as he’d somehow managed to outbid Ambrose. The Auction House had access to the Capitol Banking System; it wouldn’t let someone make a bid that they couldn’t pay, even if that bid left them destitute.

Growling under his breath, Ambrose returned to the screen and began typing. Pulling up his Additional Assets, he ran through his options and added them to his Liquid Assets bid. The first country estate wasn’t enough, so he added his pleasure barge. Then he started offering some of his older products.

Finally, after adding another three estates and with barely a second to spare, Ambrose’s bid squeaked past Cinna’s. With an almost explosive sigh, Ambrose collapsed into his chair, sweat beading across his forehead.

“Sir?” a voice asked, making him turn to the naked woman that had just entered the room. “I have been asked to inform you that dinner is ready.”

“Good,” Ambrose said as he stood and took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” she asked, following him two steps behind and to his right.

“You will have a pair of new students soon. I suspect the girl will be the more stubborn of the two,” he answered, a touch of frustration in his tone.

“Very well, I will tell the others to prepare the training quarters. Will the usual conditioning methods be required?”

Ambrose hummed in consideration, before saying, “Prepare them for both, for now. I need to do more research to decide precisely what methods will be used to break them. I do not know enough about their background. Yet. Send word to Avita; I’m sure Cinna will do something foolish. Have her make sure he doesn’t cause too much of an upset.”

“Yes, Sir. I will have the files prepared by the time you finish, Sir,” she said with a bow before turning around and leaving. Much preparation would be required before the new arrivals were brought to the training manor.

[hr][/hr]

Cinna ran his hands through his hair and gritted his teeth. He’d come so close, so close. He’d burned every single favor he had, every outstanding debt he was owed had been called in, everything he had to try to outbid Silver. He didn’t want Katniss and Peeta to be subjected to what Silver would do to them; the bastard had too much wealth, too much power.

He knew what awaited them, knew what sort of punishment would be levied against Katniss and Peeta for forcing Capitol to bend as they had. But he didn’t have anything else that he could do. If he won the auction, then he’d be able to send them home. It was a reasonably safe bet; usually, when a member of a winning Tribute’s team put a bid on them after they won, then it was considered basic manners to let them win.

But it wasn’t like things such as ‘basic manners’ mattered to one such as Silver. As far as Cinna was concerned, the man deserved to rot and die in agony, but at this point, he couldn’t afford to do anything to antagonize the man, or he might make things for Katniss and Peeta worse than he was already planning. And Cinna wanted nothing bad to happen to the children, not ever.

So he sat there, sweating profusely, waiting for the Auction House to notify him of the results of his efforts. Finally, as an aircraft picked up the victorious Tributes in the Hunger Games arena, the results came in. Cinna read them, and his heart fell as he closed his eyes. He failed. Ambrose Silver had won the bidding war. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark would become the latest workers for the most profitable and luxurious chain of escorts and relief providers in the Capitol.

Cinna cursed loudly, slamming his fist onto the table, causing the papers to rattle slightly. The pain did little to distract him or pull his thoughts from the fate that awaited them. Peeta would almost certainly be subjected to every brainwashing technique, chemical, and device that Capitol had to make him compliant, but if Silver’s track record were anything to go by, it would be far more merciful than what he’d use against Katniss.

It wasn’t a question of if he’d break her; it was a question of how long he’d stretch it out and what he’d do to her to break her. Silver was a monster that had convinced itself that it was civilized. There were only two things that Cinna knew for sure: that Katniss and Peeta would never see District Twelve again and that it would have been a kinder fate if they’d died in the forest.

A knock sounded on the door, interrupting Cinna’s thoughts, and he turned to answer it without thinking. A young woman wearing a servant's uniform opened the door, bowing respectfully.

“Yes? What can I do for you today?” he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. She hadn't done anything wrong, but he still wanted to lash out at someone.

The girl looked over Cinna's shoulder and gave him a questioning look. Her brow furrowed as she realized who stood behind him. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"No," Cinna snapped irritably. He took several deep breaths, calming himself down. Then, he spoke, his words softening considerably. "Please take me to the room where the victors are housed."

She nodded, taking him by the arm and leading him away from the office. They passed numerous doors along the way; some were open while others were shut tight. After roughly ten to fifteen minutes, the girl opened a door and led him inside. Peeta was standing off to the side, shuffling awkwardly, trying not to get any of the dirt, mud, and other things on him on any part of the room. Katniss wasn’t to be seen, but there was the sound of water running in the attached bathroom.

“Hey, Cinna,” Peeta greeted him as he entered, the door closing behind him.

“Peeta,” Cinna returned the greeting, doing his best to put a smile on his face. It didn’t feel like much, though, considering how difficult it was to find even a sliver of happiness within him right now.

“Is something wrong?” Peeta asked, sounding concerned.

Cinna shook his head quickly, hoping that the gesture conveyed all of the emotion that he felt. “No, no…I'm fine, Peeta. Just tired, is all.”

He tried to walk past the boy, but Peeta caught hold of his hand and stopped him.

“You don’t look fine. What’s wrong? We won, and now we get to go home where Capitol can forget we even exist, but you look like Prim did before Katniss volunteered. What’s wrong?”

The water in the bathroom cut off, and Katniss walked out, a bathrobe wrapped around her, and she was drying her hair with a towel. Cinna sighed, gesturing for both youths from District Twelve to sit. Once they did, Peeta was on the floor since he was reluctant to make the couch dirty. Cinna sat across from them, considering how to tell them.

“There’s another tradition tied to the Hunger Games, one not commonly talked about,” Cinna began. “Immediately after the winning Tribute is declared, there’s an auction held, and the elites of Capitol bid on who gets the Tribute once they’re picked up. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t think it would matter; traditionally when a member of the Tribute’s team puts in a bid, everyone else lets that team member have it. Almost every year, most of the bidding is between the team members.”

“But not this year,” Katniss realized, her hands balling into fists.

“After what you did, forcing them to back down, it was already going to be a struggle, but I had enough saved up that I had a good chance at still winning. But someone else won. Ambrose Silver, he’s….”

Before Cinna could warn them, the door to the room opened, and several guards entered, surrounding a formal woman who looked at Cinna with a look of disdain, “Cinna. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Don’t worry; your one-time charges will be well taken care of.”

“Avita,” Cinna greeted, his eyes jumping from one guard to the next.

“Your services are no longer required. Mr. Silver’s staff will oversee their styling needs from here on out. The usual fees for your services will still be paid in full, of course,” the woman, Avita, said in a voice that was both pleasant and condescending at the same time. She stepped to the side, a motion reflected by the guards with her, leaving the door open and the message plain as day.

Cinna grit his teeth, his fingernails digging into his hand as he stood. Turning to the unsettled youths that had been his charges, he gave them a brittle smile and said, “Well… I suppose this is it. It was good to work with you both, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Oh, Cinna, don’t talk like you’re walking to your death,” Avita chided, her voice carrying a note of warning.

Cinna sighed again, before standing and walking out the door. When it closed behind him, the sound of the door latching shut felt like a knife had been shoved into his back, and it took most of his control to keep from punching the wall next to him. Instead, he went to find Haymitch. Cinna needed to get drunk. He only hoped that Haymitch hadn’t drunk all of the booze before he got there.