Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Your name is Katniss Everdeen. You are from District 12. You have a sister named Primrose, which you care very much about.”

“You will win the 74th Hunger Games no matter what it takes.”

I opened my eyes but I saw nothing, everything was a blur, nothing was solid enough to see. I was laying on a hard surface, far too cold, and the sheet of paper covering my body did nothing for the warmth.

“A district 12 winning, people would never buy it.” One of the voices above me said, not bothering to whisper, like they didn't realize I was awake.

“President Snow ordered for the Quarter Quell rules to be changed. We can’t only send one tribute from 12, we need another.” The other said, sounding more machine than man.

“A tribute which no one from 12 has ever heard of before? They’ll be asking questions.”

“We are not to question the President's choices, you knew that coming in. But if you’re not up to the task you are more than free to leave.”

I blinked. My whole body seemed to shift uncomfortably as I did so, as though I hadn't blinked in forever. This movement alerted the two previously blurry figures above me.

Both of them, masked and covered from head to toe in what looked to be a doctor’s uniform. I had never been to a hospital before. My mother, whose face was slowly but surely coming to me, was a healer. She helped people get better after they were injured, therefore I’ve never had to go to a hospital.

Then again, District 12 was far too poor to have a hospital. Those were reserved for the Capitol, or the wealthier districts.

“Katniss, you’re awake.” Said the one who had previously been scolding the other. “How do you feel?”

I scowled. I did not want to speak, I would much rather go back to sleep. Head to my home and see my sister.

“Right. You might be wondering what is happening, and you’d be right to. But do not worry, you will not remember any of this, Katniss Everdeen.” They went on to say, moving closer to my head. I had a bad feeling, like a lion in a cage being prodded at by long needles.

“All you need to remember is that you must live. No matter what it takes, no matter who it takes, you will survive. Close your eyes now, you’ll be home soon.”

The world went blurry once again, until all I could see, all I could remember was black.

I woke up to my sister staring down at me. It was a familiar, déjà-vu feeling that I couldn't quite place. “Prim..” I murmured, rubbing a too-soft hand down my face. I looked at it for a moment, thinking it would be more calloused than anything since I was a hunter.

“Reaping day. Get up.” Prim said, her voice a touch nervous. She wad twelve years old, the age where you could start being reaped. But I knew she would be fine, I had always made sure of it, because that's who I was.

My mother seemed exhausted when I saw her, or fearful. I did not blame her, this was the first time both of her daughters had the chance of being reaped.

I didn't understand why she seemed to jump when she saw me, the plateful of cheesy buns trembling in her hands.

“Eat up, girls. Big day today.”

While Prim and I sat at the table, eating our food, our mother stood behind us, braiding our hair, making sure that we looked perfect for the reaping. Prim’s hair was blonde and soft while mine was dark, something that I had gotten from my father.

Early afternoon, I was standing in my usual row, as I did at every reaping. Though it seemed that this year, for some reason, the people around me had taken a step further away, like they were avoiding me for some reason.

I half-expected a Peacekeeper to get involved and order them to stand in a proper line, just as every child from every district of Panem had done for years, and will do for the years to come, but nothing happened. No one stepped in while everyone seemed to step away from me.

Effie Trinket, an eccentric Capitol woman got on stage. Her wig seemed bigger than I remembered, and it had less of a shine. Perhaps she'd been in the district for an hour too long.

“Happy Hunger Games! It is time to pick our lucky lucky tributes for the 74th Hunger Games!” She exclaimed with that Capitol accent, but her words had really gotten to me, like I had to prepare for something.

She reached into the first bowl. “Ladies first, of course.” The bowl was almost full with the names of the girls of this district. My name must have been there many times with all of the Tesserae I’ve signed up for so we could live, so that my sister wouldn't have to have her name more than once in that bowl.

Effie then dramatically pulled out a slip of paper, opening it.

It was then that I realized that the odds are often never in our favour. Never, in District 12.

“Primrose Ever-”

“I volunteer!”

My hand was up and I was yelling before I could even realize what I was doing. Before her name could have been said in full.

I marched up to that stage, a sense of pride within me. I was doing the right thing, volunteering to save my sister, to show the people of Panem that I was strong, that the people of District 12 wanted to fight.

Effie Trinket seemed surprised by this turn of events, looking around the room. She let out a nervous chuckle. “Ah- Normally we don’t ask for tributes until the end of the reaping.”

She then cleared her throat, trying to get back on track. But I was there, standing in front of the people of District 12, an assured look on my face. “Give it up for your District 12 female tribute… I’m sorry darling, I haven't quite caught your name.”

“My name is Katniss Everdeen.” I told her, facing the crowd of uneasy people, standing all together.

“Katniss Everdeen! Volunteering for her dear sister, I assume. How noble!” Effie spoke before going over to the second bowl.

But I wasn't paying attention. I was looking at everyone. I didn't understand. They were looking at me as though I was a stranger, someone they’d never seen before. And like what I had done was wrong, and not a noble thing.

I loved my sister, Primrose Everdeen of District 12. She had always been my everything, everyone should have known this. They should have expected this.

“Peeta Mellark!” I heard Effie Trinket say. Everyone was silent again. You could hear the footsteps of the boy as he came to join me on stage.

I knew Peeta Mellark. Or I knew of him. This was the norm in District 12, everyone either knew everyone, or everyone knew of everyone.

He was the son of a baker, which explained the burn marks on his hand. He was strong, physically. And we had gone to school together. That's as much as I knew of him.

Peeta stared at me cautiously before his head turned to the ground. No one had volunteered to take his place, a shame that someone would waste an opportunity to be seen as worthy. But it did not matter, really, as I would win the Hunger Games even if I had to go against a boy of my own district.

As I held my head up high, the anthem of Panem playing out to announce the end of the reaping, I stared at the uneasy faces in the crowd. Most eyes were on me, like they were trying to figure me out. But they knew of me, I was sure of it, everyone knew of everyone in District 12.

Yet I felt a tingling at the back of my head and I couldn't help but turn around to see.

There he sat. Haymitch, the drunk old victor from the 50th Hunger Games. But to see him staring at me like this, he didn't seem all that drunk. In fact, it was like my being here sobered him up.

I didn't understand. I had never talked to him before, nor had anyone, really. He was an acquaintance of my mother's, but that's as far as our relationship went. So why was he glaring at me? Me specifically, like he wad trying to figure me out or see right through me.

I had better things to do, so I turned back around to face the crowd, proud to be a tribute of the 74th Hunger Games. Despite how strangely everyone was staring at me, I would make my district proud. I would win the Hunger Games and make them see what a true victor looked like. No matter what it took, or who it took.

Chapter Text

As soon as the reaping was over, Peeta and I were directed into separate rooms to say goodbye to our friends and families. I could still feel Haymitch’s eyes digging into my back, but I paid him no mind. What could a drunk like him possibly want with me? Was he jealous that I volunteered while he’d most likely been just reaped?

I sat on the velvet couch in the room. It was quite nice, especially for District 12. I guess that they wanted us to have a nice room for final goodbyes.

But this wouldn't be a final goodbye for me, I had a mother and sister to care for. I would come back, sooner or later.

My mother and Prim were the first ones to visit me. They hugged me, it felt far more real than all of the times they'd hugged me before. Maybe because they thought I wouldn't come back, no matter how many times I promised them I would.

The next person to visit me was a girl I immediately recognized as the mayor’s daughter, Madge. “Ms. Undersee.” I greeted her with a polite smile.

As far as I could remember, Madge and I had grown up side by side. We were in the same classes, she sought me out during lunch despite me often avoiding being around other people.

“Come on, Katniss. Just Madge is fine.” She said, a tight smile on her own face.

I would not call her just Madge. She was the mayor’s daughter, and being in District 12, or any district for that matter, that was almost as good as Capitol status. And any citizen of the Capitol, or citizen of high rank like her, deserved the utmost respect. So, no, I would not call her just Madge.

“To what do I owe the honour?” I asked her, ignoring her words.

She shifted on her feet for a moment, as though she was unprepared. Quite ironic how I had little time before I’d be off to risk my life, yet she was the one standing there, unsure on what to do with that little time.

“It’s not often that we get volunteers here… What you did for little Prim, it was- it was very brave.” It took everything in me not to look confused. ‘Little Prim’, as if that was not my sister, the one I’d been taking care of my whole life.

But I forced myself to smile a little more. “Of course. I never would have done otherwise.”

Madge then dug through the pocket of her dress, pulling out a small flat box. She approached me, and I watched as she pulled a pin out of the box and fixed it to my dress.

“Here. A symbol of District 12.” A mockingjay.

If anything, mockingjays were a symbol of failure. The mockingjay was born from your typical mockingbird and the jaberjay, a species created by the Capitol and then destroyed once the creatures had been used against them. However, few jabberjays had survived and mated with the mockingbirds, creating the mockingjay, a species the Capitol had no control over.

Not only had the Capitol failed to destroy the jabberjays, but they had been unprepared for the mockingjays. Failure after failure. I tried my best not to rip off the pin she had placed on me, to throw it in her face and to yell at her at how stupid she was if she thought that the mockingjay could be a symbol of anything good.

But then again, she was the mayor’s daughter. I acted grateful. “Why thank you, Ms. Undersee. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been given something this pretty.” Ugly, terrible.

“You’re welcome, Katniss. And be careful, during the games.” She hugged me, then pressed a kiss to my cheek before leaving the room. On my cheek, I felt the oily remnants of whatever gloss or oil had been smeared on her lips. I left it there for the time being.

I didn't think I’d get another visitor after Madge, but I did. A boy, around my age, with dark hair and tanned skin like mine. He was clearly from the Seam, but I had no idea who he was, or why he was here.

“Hey Katnip.” He said, making his way over to me and taking me into his arm. I tried to pull away, who was this guy, but he didn't let me.

He placed his chin on top of my head, making me notice the faint scent of roses and formaldehyde, it made me want to sneeze. “I’ll watch over Prim and your mother while you’re gone, don’t worry. They’ll be alright.”

I said nothing, doing my best not to claw his eyes out. This stranger was telling me he’d look after my family, as if I could trust him with those things.

“And when you’ll be back,” He squeezed me, emphasizing the word ‘back’, “it'll be back to Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne, hunting in the woods to feed our families.”

I was familiar with the Hawthornes. A large family, no father. He had died in the same explosion as mine had, which made our families somewhat close, I assumed. But I did not know a Gale, not as a close friend, nor as a boy who lived in District 12.

I pushed him back and he relented, finally moving away. “You’re confused.” I told him blandly. “I’m not sure you know who you're talking to.”

He took another step back and scoffed, like this was all some big joke on him. “Right. Sure thing, Katniss.” He said, making his way towards the exit. “I’ll be keeping an eye out, don’t worry.” Finally he left.

The train that took us from the districts to the capital was small, but it was fast. Unlike the trains used to transport coal, or lumber, this one was clean and polished, most likely for the viewing pleasure of the Capitol citizens. They would hate it for their trains to be seen as dirty.

We sat around the table. Me, Peeta, Effie and the drunk. We ate food and I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like this. It was good, and flavourful, almost addictive, though I showed self-restraint.

Effie Trinket chirped on about this and that, schedules and important events, so much that I considered tuning her out since none of it seemed interesting.

Nobody else talked until Peeta turned to look at Haymitch. “Any advice for us? For the Games?”

Haymitch, who seemed more interested in hiding the bottom of his cup with more Capitol wine, grunted. “Don’t die.” He said flatly. But he looked up at Peeta and seemed to remember that he did have a role in this operation. That he, as his title suggested, had to mentor us.

“Run away from the cornucopia as soon as the Games start.” That seemed cowardly. “Find water, you’re no good dehydrated.” That seemed obvious. “Don’t trust your allies. Each and every person in that arena is here to kill you, and they won’t hesitate once you’re not useful to them.”

And neither should my allies trust me. Not that I planned on having any. But if I did, I would kill them all the moment they expected it the least.

Peeta only nodded and went back to his food. The silence returned, and I welcomed it. I still didn't understand why Haymitch had been glaring at me during the reaping, it hadn't happened since then, but it was still strange.

After dinner, we watched the reapings from the other districts to see who I’d be up against, other than Peeta. None of them made an impression on me, from the stronger boys of the career districts to the young girl of District 11, I knew they’d all be dead by the end of the Games.

Effie rushed us to bed, saying that a big big big day was coming. I listened to her because I couldn't take any more of her chattering. I went to the room they had prepared for me and sank into the bed. It was far more comfortable than the one table I remembered sleeping on once, somewhere, and sleep came easy.

Too easy.

One moment I was asleep, and the next I was awake, like my body knew there was something wrong. I look over to the side and I see Haymitch, standing there, watching me while I slept.

How long had he been there? Better question, why was he there?

I went to ask him exactly that, or more like yell at him, but my body moved on its own. I lunged forward, hands outstretched towards his neck. He tried to push me back, but I was quicker and I had the advantage.

I think he yelled, he must have made a noise or something since the door opened. But I was too focused on Haymitch, thumbs pressing against the center of his throat, teach him not to look at me ever again.

“-aymish-”

“-tniss stoh-”

“-et go! Katniss let go!”

Peeta was yelling at me, pulling on my arms, trying to stop me from doing what I had been doing. Stop me from trying to choke out Haymitch, though it wasn't really me, it was my hunter instincts, naturally.

Peeta was very strong. His gentle personality had made me underestimate him because he was able to wrench my arms back and pull me away from Haymitch. The old man grabbed his throat, coughing, but I kept trying to launch myself back at him.

“Katniss stop!” Peeta yelled again, turning me around to pin me on my bed. His hands pressed against the middle of my back, holding me there. I couldn't move, couldn't even look back at Haymitch since Peeta was blocking my view. But I heard the shuffling of boots and my door closing, the coward had left.

Peeta’s grip on me faltered now that Haymitch was gone, and I faltered too, not feeling like attacking an old man again. “Look. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Haymitch, but you can’t do that. He’s the only chance we have at winning this thing.”

I didn't respond, what could I respond anyways? “Maybe he’s your only chance, not mine. I’m winning the Games with or without him.” Peeta would’ve gotten upset. Probably. I don’t really care what Peeta thinks.

He left shortly after, the door closing behind him. I knew then that Haymitch hadn't really left, their voices loud enough to carry through the door.

“What was that? What were you doing?” Peeta.

“There's something wrong with that girl. Something seriously wrong.” Haymitch.

“That doesn't mean you get to watch her sleep, are you insane?” Peeta.

“You’re telling me you think this girl you’ve never see-” Good night.

Training week came and went quickly. The weapons all felt right in my hands, but the bow and arrows felt better. I liked the control, and the precision it took. And I especially liked the sound of the arrow hitting the direct center of the target.

I wasn't surprised, I had hunted all my life. Weapons and traps were my second nature. Camouflage less so, but I didn't intend on hiding from these people.

The people weren't any more notable than they were during the reaping. The careers were far too cocky and sure of themselves. The younger tributes were afraid and timid. Not the girl from 11, though. She seemed to know what she was doing, where she was.

Naturally, as all Hunger Games went, we had to he interviewed by the one and only Caesar Flickerman to get the citizens of the Capitol excited to watch us fight each other to the death.

I remembered my prep team, the same one from the tribute parade. Three chattery Capitol people, buzzing around me gasping when they found hair on my legs or frowning at an eyelash out of place.

I didn't remember the process so much. Only that I had fallen asleep and woken up pretty. Capitol’s words, not mine.

I now wait backstage as the District 7 boy speaks with Caesar, doing his best to seem interesting. I pity him, really, because to catch the Capitol’s attention you have to be very interesting. The Capitol can only give their attention to the best of the best.

But I also envy him because my dress is scratchy, I’m tired, and he gets to go right after his time is up, which is right about now.

Time slows down, it seems, because after an eternity it's my turn to head onto the stage and be interviewed. I put on a big wide smile as I walk out and I can’t help but wonder what Gale thinks, if he’s even watching me from his home with his mother and his siblings, seeing me like this in the Capitol. Would he be proud of his best friend, or worried.

I’m only worried my smile might falter the moment I sit down to be interviewed, but I make it. “Caesar! So nice to finally meet you.” I answer him, knowing full well I’m terrible when it comes to talking to people.

But Caesar is good, very good when it comes to leading the conversation. He’s done this for so long that he knows what the people want to hear.

“Katniss Everdeen, the girl who volunteered. What was going through your mind when you did that?” He asked me with what seemed like a genuine smile on his face.

“Well, I was thinking about my sister. How she shouldn't have to risk her life like this.”

“That was your sister?” He asked, which made the crowd “aww” in unison. “Were you afraid?”

“For her? Terribly. She’s a healer, her heart isn't made to fight. And that's why I love her. But for me, not at all. I’m a warrior, I know I can do this.”

That's how our interview went on, even of near the end it began to drag on, all I had to do was spin in my dress which brought the audience’s attention back.

The moment I stepped off stage, I immediately wanted to leave. But Effie Trinket, who had appeared from what knows were might I add, caught my shoulder. She murmured something about district solidarity, or something, and held onto my shoulders to force me to watch Peeta.

Peeta was also very good. Again, I’d underestimated him when it came to how he talked to others. He knew how to sway a crowd, and with Caesar there, they were an unstoppable duo. It made me want to thank Effie for making me watch this, but I didn't.

“Now Peeta, is there anything you’d like to say to anyone back home? A lady friend waiting for you to come back, perhaps?” Asked Caesar, leaning in.

Peeta chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ahh Caesar, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Oh come on now.” The man urged. “There must be someone.”

Peeta seemed to give in, his hand falling back in his lap. “Well, there is… There is this girl that I love… But I’m not sure I’d be able to see her if I won and went back.”

“Well why not? Why would she not see you after such an achievement?”

“Because, well…” He turned his head and for a moment I thought I caught his eye, that he was looking at me. But I wasn't too sure if it was possible with all of those stage light around.

“Because she’s here with me.”