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“And all the way from District Twelve, the only tribute ever to be reaped twice, Primrose Everdeen!”
There were more gasps and awes than applause as Prim took the stage. She was dressed in gauzy pink, the dress loose and flowing behind her. She looked young, pretty and sweet. Everything she was and that they were trying to play up.
Throat dry, she took her seat. Was she smiling? She hoped she was.
“Ah, Primrose, I hope you’ve enjoyed your welcome to the Capitol! Primrose, can I call you Primrose?”
“I- sure. No one calls me that, really.”
“Oh? What do they call you?”
She shrugged, remembering after the motion was done she shouldn’t have. She could be elegant and well-mannered, even if she is just from Twelve. She imagines Katniss being allowed to watch this later, she imagines her mother watching at home, and resolves not to give up. “Prim. Just Prim.”
“All right, Prim, a lovely name for a lovely girl.” Prim is a harsh and awkward word, she thinks, though she likes it all the same. She wishes her final conversations could be full of more than syrupy lies. “I’m sure your sister described the Capitol to you after all her time here, does it live up to expectations?”
“Wow, I just—I really can’t describe it. There’s so much of everything. I don’t think I’ve seen so much food in my life.”
“Are you a fan of the stew?”
“Oh- yes. Very much.” They chuckled like old friends, giving the audience time to feel involved. She did not think the Capitol citizens suspected why last year’s victors were being so quiet. She hoped that people back home would work it out.
“Now, Prim, I’m sure you were as surprised as anyone when your name came up. How did you feel?”
She swallowed. “Yes, I bet I looked shocked. The first time I couldn’t process it — I was terrified, and then I was terrified for my sister. This year it was different.”
“Different?”
She nodded emphatically. “I felt a lot of things so fast, you know, too fast. But by the time I got on the stage I think I was resigned to it. It should’ve been me already, so really my sister bought me a year. For these last few weeks of my life I can’t be anything but grateful.”
“Now, now, surely you haven’t given up? Don’t you have anything you want to share with us — any special skills?”
“I… Well, yes.” She answered without anything to say or share. She needed to do something, to show them something, make an impression beyond that she was Katniss’ sister. She needed to make them regret choosing her.
“Is it a secret? Saving it for the arena?”
She shook her head slowly. She allowed herself to think out loud. “No, I can tell you. My mother — she was an apothecary’s daughter, so she’s the healer everyone comes to back home. She’s the closest we have to a doctor. I’ve been learning from her, even helping patients by myself when she’s too tired or busy. I’m good at it. I’m going to — well, I was going to be a healer. I know that’s not very useful in the Hunger Games, but it’s who I am.”
Caesar looked something between worried and confused. That was okay, all Prim needed from him was a little more time. “I remember in her interview, Katniss told us that she promised you something. Can you remember what it was?”
She remembers the dim room in the Justice Building, giving Katniss the lucky token that never worked. “I asked her to try. To try to win.”
“And she did.” Prim nodded. “Did you make her a similar promise?”
“We don’t lie to each other, in our family. So no. I know how this is going to end.” Caesar’s mouth was tight, even despite his many plastic surgeries. He gave her a grin so wide it looked macabre. She started to speak before he could ruin her momentum.
“Katniss has always protected our family. When I was little, after our father died, we were starving. Our mother was unwell, so we had no money, no food — we were dying. Katniss found a way to save us. She learnt to forage for food, sold some of mother’s old things for supplies, and made dandelion soup from what our father had taught her. She kept us alive by her own will, and in time we were okay. There are lots of things she could do that I could never manage. That’s why she took my place. That, and because she loves me.” She’s in dangerous territory now, she knows, but she also knows they did not reap her to let her become victor. She wants to do more.
“So you’re probably going to look for allies like your sister did then.”
Prim blinked at the incongruous statement. That wasn’t what she had meant, and it certainly wasn’t true. “I suppose. If people get hurt, I could help them. I think that would make me a good ally. I don’t need to hurt people — I don’t want to, and really I don’t think I could. I’m just going to try to take care of myself, and if anyone needs anything, I promise I’ll do anything I can for them.”
“Well, thank you-”
“And in my family, we don’t break promises.”
She hears a crackle of static and hopes it’s because she’s upset one of them.
She hears applause, so loud she can barely hear Caesar motioning for her to get up, even though barely anyone in the crowd is clapping. The lights are so bright, she trips on the way to her seat at the back of the stage. A couple of the tributes are eyeing her, mostly the ones who scored in the middle, who won’t have sponsors but might have a chance. One of the careers is appraising her too. She isn’t sure if that is what she wanted. She tries to meet the eye of the closest tributes to her, the ones from Eleven, but the boy is staring at his hands. The girl glares at her then physically turns away. She doesn’t blame her. Rue saved Katniss’ life, but she might not have died without the alliance. And the smart tributes know that Prim will not be safe to be around.
The announcer introduces the final tribute — a boy of fifteen Prim had never met in Twelve. The stress of the interview over, the doom of tomorrow looming, she understands better why Katniss had not been thrilled by Peeta’s surprise announcement of undying love.
Prim just hopes that she can die nicely. The boy from home is talking, and about something lighter than death, Caesar doing his best to make the boy seem charismatic and interesting.
She bites her lip and tries to listen.