Overlooking the cheering crowds of the Capitol, Dahlia was officially crowned the Victor of the 66th Annual Hunger Games by President Snow. In an exquisite black dress covered in shimmering silver gems, she sat on a plush throne with perfect posture and an expressionless face. She rose from the chair as Snow delicately collected the intricate golden crown and turned to her. Dahlia's unnerving eyes never left the wicked man's face as he placed the crown on her dark slicked back hair.

"I really enjoyed the show you gave me." Snow commented with an impassive grin. The man reeked of blood and death. His eyes, cold and calculated.

"I'm so glad." Dahlia replied carefully, no hint of truth lingering in her words. Both of them know this is all just pleasant facades. A simple act put on for the viewers watching on. "My friend gave her life for it."

"And what a noble sacrifice it was." Snow stated as if it was an honour to die in the name of entertainment.

Dahlia quirked a brow, not letting any emotion show. "Noble is one word for it."

"What word would you use, Miss Blossom?" Snow inquired, feigning an interest for what she has to say.

Dahlia gave him a truthful answer, "Unnecessary."

•——————•°•✿•°•——————•

The train journey home brings Dahlia feelings of relief and dread. On one hand, she can't wait to see her family again. On the other hand, she's returning as a different person. The wounds from the Games still endure in her mind. Who knows if she would ever truly heal? She didn't want to become a danger to her sisters. How would they look at her after seeing what she had become?

"We'll be arriving in the next few minutes." Alaric informs the girl as she lays back on the couch. Dahlia just hums in acknowledgement, fingers occupied by fiddling with her necklace. She hears Alaric heave a sigh before her legs are lifted up and plopped back down on his lap. "I know exactly how you are feeling."

"Does it get any easier?" Dahlia asks quietly, gazing up at the ceiling with a faraway gleam in her eyes.

"The truth?" Alaric checks, receiving a reluctant nod in reply. "No... It doesn't get easier. That guilt will stay with you forever."

"If this is your attempt to make me feel better, it's really not working." Dahlia grumbles, softly shoving Alaric's shoulder in annoyance.

"I'm not here to make you feel better. I'm here to be your Mentor." Alaric explains, making Dahlia shoot up in surprise.

With furrowed eyebrows and a confused tone, she points out, "But the Games are over. You're not my Mentor anymore. You've done your job, I made it out alive and now you are finished with mentoring for another year."

"The Games have only just begun." Alaric states darkly as Dahlia gives him her full attention. "You aren't a Tribute anymore, you're a Victor. That's a title you'll keep for the rest of your life. Snow likes to keep all of his Victors on a tight leash. You are now a pawn of the Capitol."

Dahlia's eyes widen in horror. "What will he do if I don't comply?"

"I think you know the answer to that already." Alaric replies sadly, making Dahlia look down in realisation. Her family would pay the price if she acted out, just as Alaric's had done. "You will be moved into the Victors' Village. In six months you will go on a Victory Tour through each of the districts before finishing at the Capitol. I will be with you every step of the way." Alaric debates whether to warn Dahlia about the whispers he's heard but decides that she deserves to know. "I need to prepare you for what's to come... Snow doesn't like you."

Dahlia scoffs with a roll of her eyes, "I thought that was common knowledge."

"No, Dahlia." The graveness in Alaric's voice lets Dahlia know how serious the situation is. "Snow doesn't like you because of the way you criticised the Games. Lots of people in the districts agreed with you, which causes problems for Snow. If they start protesting against the Games--"

"He could have a rebellion on his hands." Dahlia finishes, twirling the golden pendant of her necklace between her fingers.

"Precisely." Alaric confirms with a heavy sigh. "You can see why your victory causes problems."

"Will he take it out on my family? My sisters?" Dahlia questions in terror, beginning to worry what environment she will be returning to.

"I-- I don't know." Alaric replies honestly, making Dahlia sink into the couch with her head in her hands. "Snow is unpredictable. But the one thing that has saved you was your... How to put it? Umm... Outburst of anger in the final showdown."

"How has that saved me?" Dahlia spits out in astonishment. "I yelled at him."

"Your ruthless nature has made the districts see you as more of a deadly Career than a symbol of hope." Alaric explains slowly, trying his best to be discreet. If he could talk freely, without fear of being listened to, he would tell her that no one wants to have a crazed heartless killer as a leader of change. They want someone with more compassion and empathy. "Hopefully, the tour will go smoothly, the districts will be settled and Snow won't have any reason to take his dislike out on any of your family."

"I'm struggling to be hopeful right now." Dahlia deadpans, folding her arms across her chest. Instinctually, her fingers trail upwards to connect with her necklace like it's her lifeline... Because it is. The golden dahlia reminds her of the family she had to leave behind, the reason why she must keep going. She would carry Cove with her wherever she went, close to her heart. "Alaric?"

Alaric looks up from his hands at the girl's uncharacteristically timid voice. "Yes, flower?"

"Please..." She pauses as tears gather on her lower lash line. Avoiding eye contact with the man, she tries to blink away her emotions and take deep, slow breaths to disguise her heartache. "Please don't leave me." Alaric's eyes softened at the surprising display of vulnerability. "I can't-- I don't want to lose anyone else."

Dahlia had been putting up a strong front ever since she left the arena. You would never be able to tell that she had been struggling, because she hid it so well. But Alaric knew. He knew because he had done the same. Bottling up everything inside until he eventually exploded. That's what got him in trouble with Snow. And now he's watching the same thing happen with Dahlia. Only this time, she's not alone. He'll make sure of that.

"Listen to me." Alaric states firmly, leaning closer to the girl he's come to see as his own. "You have reminded me that family is always worth fighting for. Better yet, you have given me a family to fight for." No longer bothering to hide her feelings, Dahlia looks up at the man who has got her to where she is. "You are my family. And I don't intend to abandon you now."

Throwing all caution to the wind, Dahlia leaps across the couch to hug her mentor. Alaric closes his eyes in bliss, revelling in the comfort the two broken Victors can give each other. He's never been more grateful that he decided to hang on one more year. They don't separate until the train rumbles to a stop.

Dahlia pulls back in a panic, frantically wiping her eyes as the assembled crowds start to cheer. With a shaky sigh and a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, she readies herself for the onslaught of attention. "Show time." She mutters to herself, standing at the closed door of the train.

Alaric is forced to watch as his sweet girl melts away to become a coldhearted, remorseless killer. As far as the eyes of the Capitol are concerned, Dahlia Blossom no longer exists. There is only The Black Dahlia. That's all they want. She's the only personality that is acceptable. So that's what Dahlia must become every time she is in public. Narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Fiendish smirk and dangerous demeanor.

The doors snap open, unleashing the roar of the crowd onto Dahlia's ears. She acts like a true Victor, waving gracefully to the proud spectators and seemingly basking in the applause she receives. For citizens who fear the Games on Reaping Day, all anxiety disappears the moment their District produces a winner. Hypocritical to the bitter end and nothing ever changes.

Among the gathered onlookers, Dahlia finds an assortment of beaming smiles and carefree laughter. So it is rather noticeable when she spots a solemn face in the group. Especially one that she recognises all too well. Her mother.

Dahlia's heart sinks at the almost frightened expression of her beloved mother when the two lock eyes. Joule Blossom visibly tenses up under the gaze of her eldest daughter, gripping onto her two youngest's hands in fear. Lavender and Rosie seemed equally intimidated by the Victor standing before them, even going so far as to cower behind their mother.

This pinpointed the moment that Dahlia's entire world collapsed around her. Her family, the people she had worked so hard to get back to, were scared of what she had become. They no longer saw a sister or a daughter. They saw a vicious killer. They saw an unrecognisable girl. A mad woman.

What's worse is that she can't show them that she's still the girl they loved. She can't run into her mother's arms like she so desperately wants to. She can't break down into tears of relief at seeing them alive and well. Not in front of so many watchful eyes. It feels like everyone is waiting for the cracks in her mask to form. For a sliver of her true self to be revealed. But she has a part to play and a character to hide behind. She must keep up this act to ensure her family's safety. So she suffers in silence while her family stares at her in horror.

She had sacrificed everything to return home. Watched her friend die, hunted down Careers, washed blood from her hands... Now, Dahlia wishes she had just perished in that arena.