No Other Options

Author Note: Hello, fans of the Hunger Games and Lorien Legacies alike! If you're anything like me, you're obsessed with both….:D. Just so you know, this will differ from what happened in the HG series, (let's not be OC, shall we?), but if there are some similarities, well….Happy Hunger Games… . And may the odds be ever in our Garde's favors….

It was never the desirable option. It was not what any of the people who inhabited the once peaceful planet wanted to happen, not any more than they wanted to be incinerated with no warning whatsoever. All of them knew that if, in the 'impossible' incident that Lorien was invaded or unable to inhabit life anymore, the surviving would have to migrate to Earth. There was only talk about the outcomes of the other planet after so many years of evaluation between both of them, such as the awakening of Lorien's powers and the apocalypse of Earth.

Lorien had flourished. Earth became Panem.

Now Lorien was fallen, and Earth was their only option if they were to live.

"It's going to be nothing like it was on Lorien," Hessu, One's Cepan, broke the restless silence between all of the traumatized little Garde and the grieving, horrified Cepans, "they kill children at random on Earth for the pleasure of their government."

"There will be twelve districts," Brandon, (Four's Cepan,) explained grimly to the others, having done quite the level of research on the planet, "they each carry out separate jobs for the government, the Capital. Whatever District you end up in, you must do as the other people do and live as they do. Keep the Garde away from them, especially as they become eligible for this…entertainment slaughter."

Solemnly and sadly, the other Cepans slowly nodded in agreement.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Hessu grumbled bitterly as she approached the last District boundary, "that Number One would end up in the last number District."

The young Number One studied her surroundings critically. Being eight years old, she could remember the beauty of her home planet, and District Twelve was a complete mess. Crossing her arms, she gave her Cepan an indignant pout.

"I don't wanna live here…" she complained.

"Yeah? Well, neither do I…" the stern woman simply sighed, grabbing the little Garde's arm and pulling her through the wire gating.

"This seems like a peaceful enough place," Jacques commented softly, clutching the sleeping six-year-old closer to his chest.

She was Number Two, which meant she would be the second to die if the Mogodorians ever caught up. Subconsciously, he wondered if the same applied to human's as he entered one of the several farmhouses in District Ten. It wasn't much, but he was convinced it would be enough for the two of them.

After all, they were just glad to be alive for that night.

The scent of the woods enticed Hunmek. He'd grown up in the forestry parts of Lorien, embarking on adventures with his long-time friend and adventurer, Reynolds. Though he figured it sucked for Reynolds to be stuck in a different District, he was still glad he could refuge somewhere desirable. After all, a Loric symbol hadn't been carved under the boundary sign like they'd all decided would be done for a signal.

"Come on, little man," he hefted the sleeping three-year-old Three over his shoulder carefully, "we'll find somewhere nice and warm here."

With that hopeful assurance, he passed into District Seven.

It just didn't seem quite fair.

On Lorien, Brandon was simply a Master Cepan. He wasn't very rich, but he had a wife, kids, and a new Garde to come under his wing/guidance. He was completely happy. Even losing it all to end up in the most glorified District in this Panem didn't make it right in his mind; he wouldn't being in poverty in this place, because he felt hollow inside.

At least the boy will have happiness….he thought numbly as he passed in, having the fearful Four clinging to his back, maybe he'll still have a fighting chance.

Jemstone always knew that relief was never going to be a given. On Lorien, she'd lost her husband, the only reason she still smiled because after her bitter grandmother's angry raising. Now that he was gone and she was left with her saved seven-year-old daughter and the five-year-old Number Five, she was numb and empty inside.

She found the District with morphine supplies, known as District Six.

"Mommy, why do we gotta live here?" Summer inquired, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

" be happy…" Jem whispered, "now get Five's hand and we'll find a happy place for me to drink at."

Winners live here.

These were the words imprinted for Katarina to consider. None of the Garde resided in District Two that were indicated, and it seemed nice enough. Everything was pretty modern and almost fancy looking in addition, and it only appeared as a bonus to the Cepan.

"Winners….live….her…." Six stuttered a little on pronouncing the words through the dark twilight.

"Here," Katarina corrected gently, scooping her child up, "then I suppose you really are a winner."

They were cold. The rain was cold and wet. They were desperate.

"Is freedom free?" this was the question of the District Eleven mayor, bitter from being disturbed from his affairs with his nightly whore.

"No sir…." Adel croaked out, gripping the seven-year-old Garde close to her chest as he cackled out a smoky rasp.

"You have the right idea!" he heaved through his retching, "get in here!"

"What do you say, little bro?" Reynolds looked down to the seven-year-old boy leaning over the rails with him, "can you swim?"

"Uh huh!' he agreed, eagerly smelling the salty air of District Four.

The adventurer smiled down as he swung himself over. As he helped Eight over himself, he couldn't help but long for the forestry. None the less, the beaches were never a bad thing. It seemed like a good enough District to live in at any right….it might keep them safe.

Everyone knew Sandor had always been a techy. So when he found a District directed on technology, he was almost delighted despite it all.

"But it stinks!" Nine wrinkled his nose at the smoking that was constantly lingering in the air.

"We'll get used to it," the teenager simply patterned a symbol under the entrance, "let's get in there."

Nine never did protest, (though he was scowl/pouting,) so it was decided then and there that were they'd reside.

"Out of attention, unnoticed, and not important…." Crayton muttered as he carefully slid into the gates of District Five, "perfect."

Of course that was when a loud factory whistle awoke the small infant of Ella, causing some screamed sobs. Pressing her into his chest securely, he made a dash for a place that seemed abandoned, desperate to calm her before he was noticed by any of the people already living there. Once inside, he quickly came to realize he was not alone.

"You with the mayor or the Capital?" the older-looking girl inquired from where she sat around in rags with a boy who looked about her age and a young looking girl.

When he shook his head, the little girl moved over to make some room for him to sit as well.

Author Note: Just so we're all clear:

District One= Four.

District Two= Six.

District Three= Nine.

District Four= Eight.

District Five= Ella.

District Six= Five.

District Seven= Three.

District Ten= Two.

District Elven= Seven.

District Twelve= One.

I know it may be a bit confusing in the beginning, but it will get easier to remember! I put them in these different Districts based on personalities…;).