Chapter Text
When Katniss wakes up, she realizes just how cold and lonely the room feels. She sits up and looks towards the other side of the room, towards Prim’s bed, and frowns when she sees that her bed is empty.
Her pillows have fallen to the ground, and her covers are strewn all over the bed, as if she got up in a hurry. Katniss grimaces. Prim must’ve had another nightmare and ran to Mom and Dad’s bed. It’s happened before, multiple times. Sometimes she cries about Katniss getting reaped; other times, she cries about their father getting reaped again, even though they both know that’s not possible.
As far as they know, anyway.
Given the fact that Prim is currently nowhere in sight, Katniss is going to assume that the nightmare was about their father. Usually, when her nightmares involve Katniss, it’s her bed that she climbs into instead.
Quietly, she swings her legs to the side and sits on the edge of her bed, taking a silent moment to wake up. She feels goosebumps start to form on her arms, and she grumbles to herself to get up and get dressed.
She knows she doesn’t have long to hunt, not until the Reaping, but it’s routine at this point. A squirrel or two, a couple of rabbits, or, if she’s really lucky, a deer to bring to the Hob. It’d be risky carrying it by the Peacekeepers, but most of them tend to look the other way, even on days like this.
So, Katniss quickly slides on a pair of pants, her leather boots, and her father’s old hunting jacket that had become too small for him to wear. She takes a moment to soak in the feeling of the familiar leather. It smells like the woods, earthy and warm, reminding her of her father, who, in his younger years, used to spend hours in the woods collecting plants to take back to their mother, who made herbal remedies for anyone who needed them.
He doesn’t collect plants so much anymore, maybe once a week if he needs to get away. Her mother still makes remedies, but lately, it seems like fewer people around the district need them these days. This can be a good or bad thing, really. Either there’s no need for it, or people have just decided to give up hope altogether and throw in the towel, not wanting to waste precious resources like medicine.
Their family has no need for hunting or gathering, nor do they require medicine on a regular basis. But having the option is always nice, and their family has always tried to help those in need in the district. It was the least they could do, anyway.
Burdock Everdeen winning the 51st Games set their family up for life. The beautiful house they live in, the endless supply of food the Capitol sends, and the money. Dad never liked talking about it, but he certainly took advantage of the benefits. He never let a single thing go to waste. If they had leftovers, he’d hand them out to the families in the Seam who had nothing to eat, and then some.
Mom told both her and Prim about the day Dad came back to District 12 after winning. His eyes had been clouded, his olive skin paler than it should’ve been, and his posture withdrawn. But, despite all that, he made sure that everyone in District 12 had something to eat. Whether it was through hunting, scavenging, or just flat-out giving away his money, he did it.
Thinking about Dad looking like that at the age of 16 made Katniss nauseous. Mom didn’t look too happy telling the story either, her eyes flecked with pain and something else Katniss couldn’t place. But, there was also a certain fondness in her voice she couldn’t help, so Katniss tried to focus more on that instead. It was easy to see what made her fall so deeply in love with him, but Katniss couldn’t help but wonder if they would’ve still gotten married if those circumstances hadn’t happened.
Maybe it was because she was a pessimist who didn’t see the point in getting married or having kids. What was the point of any of that, if there was a terrifying chance of your kid being reaped?
Dad made it a point not to get too comfortable or too careless. “The Capitol doesn’t always play fair. I’ve seen it firsthand.”
When Katniss had asked more about it, her father simply shook his head, as if he was trying to shake away something, memories perhaps. Memories of his Games, or maybe the day he got reaped. Maybe even something beyond that.
A part of her was worried about that. If Katniss got reaped… well, she’d find a way to deal with it. But Prim? Prim getting reaped was a very real possibility, especially now that she’s turned twelve. Unfortunately, their father being a victor doesn’t mean their family is excluded from the Reaping. Sure, Prim’s name is only in there once, but Katniss wouldn’t put it behind the Capitol to rig the Reaping to stir up drama.
“A Legacy!” Katniss could hear Effie Trinket saying, in her Capitol accent, a warbly tone giving way to joy. Katniss grimaces. The very thought pisses her off.
Prim was too sweet. Too gentle. She wasn’t rough around the edges like Katniss was, nor was she a hunter or scavenger. She was a healer and someone who sold goat milk from time to time, but she wasn’t a fighter.
She was nowhere close.
If she ever went into the arena, she’d be—
Well, Katniss prefers not to think about it, because she won’t let it happen.
Katniss manages to sneak out of the house undetected and makes it to the fence, sliding underneath it easily. Technically, the fence is supposed to be buzzing with electricity, but it’s never been on as long as Katniss has been around.
She passes through the Meadow and into her usual neck of the woods, sliding her bow and her sheath of arrows out of a log she always hides them in.
Again, the Peacekeepers have never been especially strict about her choice in hobbies, nor have they ever threatened to punish her, but she likes to be careful, just in case.
Part of her thinks that their leniency is due to her father being a victor. Another part thinks that they simply can’t be bothered. They have better things to do, like buying liquor at the Hob.
Katniss crouches down, feels the way the wind blows, and stays downwind as she tracks her first animal of the day. The prints are small, which means it’s either a rabbit or some other rodent. Whatever. The meat she catches isn’t for her. It’s for whoever is hungry back in the Hob.
It’s going to be tough this year, no matter what, considering District 12 hasn’t had a victor since her father won. Every year since then, kids from the Seam have been reaped and then slaughtered in the Games. Katniss always had a little hope, though, that District 12 would win sometime soon.
Her father never liked to talk about mentoring the chosen kids, but Katniss could tell it was getting to him, year after year, as he sent more and more kids to their deaths. He’s not alone in mentoring them, of course, but the only other living victor of District 12 isn’t exactly helpful either.
Haymitch Abernathy.
Katniss sees him around the Hob sometimes, buying his share of white liquor and whatever Greasy Sae is cooking. She’s never talked to him, despite him living right next door, but Katniss isn’t sure if she would even want to.
His eyes are always cold, always full of doubt and sadness whenever he looks at the chosen children.
Her father said once that Haymitch buried his sorrows in liquor for a while before Burdock was reaped. Then he seemed to sober up, just for a bit, to make sure he got as much help as he could.
Nevertheless, there was a rift between them that her father didn’t talk about, didn’t want to talk about. His eyes would simply drift to her mother and soften sadly. “ I don’t hate him. I never could. But he has made it very clear that he needs his space, and I am done fighting him on it.”
Katniss decided to leave it alone, for her father’s sake.
After about two hours in the woods, Katniss comes back to the Hob with a game bag full of squirrels and rabbits, along with some thyme and rosemary for seasoning. Seasoning is pretty much a luxury for most people in the district, so Katniss always tries to gather some for at least a few of Greasy Sae’s stews.
Greasy Sae grins kindly at her. “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of this yet.”
Katniss frowns. Getting tired of helping people? The very thought feels foreign to her. “Never,” Katniss says, then clears her throat to say a few more words. “It’s not a big deal.”
Greasy Sae actually rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say.” Then her expression gets serious. “It’s your last year in the Reaping, isn’t it?”
Katniss sighs. She was hoping no one would bring it up, so she could just not think about it, but it seems like people in the Seam pay more attention to her than she would’ve thought. “Yes. It is.”
“Are you worried?” Greasy Sae asks carefully. Her eyes shift around the rest of the Hob nervously.
“I’m more worried about Prim,” Katniss answers honestly. “It’s her first year in.”
Greasy Sae shakes her head. “Her name’s only in there once. The odds are in her favor, I think.”
Katniss wants to agree, but can’t ignore the feeling of dread in her stomach. The Reaping always makes her feel like this, but this year, it feels extra heavy, like she’s going to collapse to the ground at the slightest touch. It could be just because it’s Prim’s first year, but maybe not.
“This year feels different,” Katniss says without really thinking. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up. For her or me.”
Greasy Sae nods, eyes full of understanding now. “You two will be fine.”
Katniss leaves the Hob as quietly as she entered, nodding to a few Peacekeepers stationed outside. Despite the Hob essentially being a black market, the Peacekeepers don’t really care who comes and goes. All they care about is making sure no one does anything illegal while any cameras are on them.
She makes her way back to Victor’s Village and back in through the front door. Her dad is sitting in a chair, expression impassive as he raises an eyebrow at her. “And where have you been?”
“The usual,” Katniss answers carefully.
By the time she was old enough to understand, Dad had made it extremely clear not to voice anything that could be seen as illegal or immoral. He had told her, later on when they were in the woods, that the house was likely bugged, and the Capitol was looking for anything they could to get them in trouble.
Her dad nods once and then gets up from his chair.
“Where’s Prim?” Katniss asks, setting her empty game bag down.
“Getting dressed,” He answers, and it’s then that Katniss truly takes in how worn down her father looks. He appears to be just as worried as she feels. That isn’t a good sign.
Then, almost as if she heard them, Prim enters the room, dressed in a clean, white blouse tucked into a black skirt. Her hair plaited into two blonde braids, and her expression calm, as if she’s practiced it in the mirror.
Their mother follows in closely behind her, smiling delicately at Katniss when she sees her. “I prepared a bath for you, Katniss. And I laid out a dress for you to wear.”
Katniss walks up to her mother and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” Then she looks down at Prim and brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind Prim’s ear. “You look beautiful, Prim.”
Prim’s smile is a bit watery, but she thanks Katniss nonetheless with a hug. Katniss holds on to her little sister tightly and kisses her on the top of her head. Then she sees over the top of her head that the back of her sister’s blouse is untucked. “Tuck in your tail, little duck.”
Prim giggles a bit at this, says a quiet little “Quack,” and the sound relaxes a bit of the tension in the room. Today’s going to be a long day, Katniss decides.
Her bath is quick and painless, and she takes the time to clean the dirt from her nails. This is her last year that she’s eligible for the Reaping, and, if by some twist of fate, she ends up going to the Capitol, she doesn’t want to appear helpless.
The dress her mother laid out for her is different from previous years. It’s a pretty dress, with colorful flowers embroidered into the skirt, which ends right at her knees. Katniss recognizes the embroidery as her mother’s handiwork. She can’t imagine how long it must’ve taken for her to do this.
When her mother sees her, she takes a moment to adjust the dress a little, and Katniss finds that when she does, the dress fits much more comfortably. Then, gingerly, her mother comes behind her and starts braiding her hair. She doesn’t braid all of it, but braids just enough to keep it out of her face. Then she comes around and starts adjusting her hair. Katniss isn’t one to care about looks, but her mother seems to need a distraction, and she doesn’t mind indulging her.
There’s nothing either of them could say to one another to soothe each other’s anxiety, so they stay quiet, basking in the silence. They hear quiet footsteps and a little gasp. “You look beautiful, Katniss,” Prim says, and Katniss feels a genuine smile form.
One glance in the mirror and Katniss’s eyes widen. “And not at all like myself.”
“Time to go,” Her father calls out.
Their family wordlessly heads over to the Justice Building, where the Reaping is held. They always head over a little earlier than most, since Dad has to be up on stage when the names are drawn. Katniss spots Madge a few feet away and walks over to her, sparing another look at Prim over her shoulder.
Despite it all, Prim seems calm. Katniss wonders how long this calmness will last. Eventually, a storm is bound to hit.
“You look beautiful,” Madge greets, her voice soft.
“Thank you,” Katniss says, and takes just a second to look at Madge’s own dress. It’s a white one and it looks expensive. Her blonde hair is pulled back by a pink ribbon. Her eyes catch on a golden pin pinned near her collarbone. It looks to be some sort of bird. It’s oddly fitting. “You too.”
Madge smiles a bit at this.
Slowly, the square begins to fill up with more and more people. It’s a bit crowded, but attendance is mandatory. The only exception would be if you were on your deathbed.
Then, after it seems everyone is gathered, Effie Trinket comes onto the stage. Katniss chooses to ignore her in favor of looking at her father, who appears to be scanning the crowd with a lost look.
Like every year since the one he won, he’ll have to mentor two kids. And, given District 12’s luck the past couple of years, it’ll likely mean leading them to their death. Katniss swallows around a lump in her throat.
Haymitch Abernathy doesn’t look much better, currently drinking from a bottle while Effie gives her speech. His eyes are glassy, and he’s refusing to look at anyone. Katniss manages to feel a bit of sympathy for him. After all, he and her father are in the same boat. She doesn’t know what happened between the two of them, but she’s hoping that one day, it can be repaired.
Suddenly, Effie’s voice snaps Katniss back to reality when she says, “As always: Ladies first.”
The tension in the square is so thick, it could be cut with a knife.
Effie dips her hand in and fumbles around in the glass bowl holding all of the names of the young girls in the district. She plucks one out and brings it to the microphone. She unfolds the paper, and her eyes widen in recognition.
Katniss feels her head begin to spin. No. No. No.
“Primrose Everdeen.”
She swore she wouldn’t let this happen. She knew this was a possibility. Katniss takes a deep breath and grounds herself. She knows what she has to do. It’s what she’s been prepared to do since Prim turned twelve. It’s the only thing she can do to keep her safe.
Katniss steps around Madge and into the walkway, holding up a hand. Prim hasn’t even taken a step towards the stage when Katniss says, “I volunteer as tribute.”
Her voice sounds calm, and not at all like herself. She doesn’t feel calm. Her mind’s currently going a thousand miles a minute, and she can hear blood rushing in her ears as she makes her way to the stage. Distantly, she can hear Prim calling for her, but she doesn’t look back. She’s afraid if she does, she won’t make it to the stage.
The Peacekeepers guide her up the stairs, and she notices that their expressions are filled with a sort of sadness that Katniss tries to understand. She avoids her father’s eyes when she makes it up onto the stage. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to handle the grief and horror she’ll find there. Both of them wanted to believe that things wouldn’t turn out like this, but they have.
“Hello, dear,” Effie greets. She gestures for Katniss to stand in front of the microphone. “Tell us your name.”
“Katniss Everdeen,” Katniss says, and notices grimly how detached her voice sounds. Anyone in the district can see now how this would’ve happened either way.
“Oh,” Effie’s voice is quiet when she realizes what just happened. She clears her throat. “Well, then. Come along, dear.”
Katniss stands on one side of the stage, looking out over the sea of faces. There are many different expressions. Anger. Denial. Grief. Sadness. She easily locates Prim, standing with their mother, hugging her so tightly as she weeps into her dress. Katniss feels a pang of hollowness in her chest at the sight. But, oddly enough, there’s the tiniest feeling of joy. Prim won’t have to participate in the Games.
This year, at least. The joy vanishes at the thought.
“And now, for the boys,” Effie announces after a moment of silence, and then goes over the glass bowl holding the boys’ names.
“Henry Rainer.”
Katniss tries to place the name, but comes up short when she tries to picture his face. She watches blankly as a boy her age starts his journey to the stage. His shoulders are back, head held high as he climbs the stairs to the stage. He has the Seam look: olive skin, short dark hair, gray eyes. He has quite a bit of muscle on him.
Nobody volunteers for him.
He doesn’t look upset by this fact, nor does he look rattled by the news that he’s being sent to his death.
It starts slowly. The salutes.
The three-fingered salute is unique to District 12. It means goodbye.
The mayor gets up from his chair then and recites the Treaty of Treason, something that Katniss has heard what feels like a million times now. Though maybe now she should listen to it, since this’ll likely be the last time she’ll hear it.
No. She actually decides she won’t.
After the mayor is done, he sends Katniss a pained look before instructing the two tributes to shake hands. Katniss holds her hand out and shakes Henry’s hand firmly. His hand is calloused and cold, but his grip is firm.
He’s doing a nice job of hiding any fear he may be feeling. Perhaps District 12 will have a victor this year. Katniss notes emptily that the tributes offered from District 12 this year are both 18, which gives them better chances than usual.
For more reasons than one, really, but Katniss doesn’t want to really think about it.
The tributes last year were kids from the Seam, much younger, and frail. Not a mean bone in either of their bodies. They both died in the first couple of days, and that was that.
Katniss mutely hears the Capitol anthem play and resists the urge to grimace or show any emotion. She won’t be seen as weak, nor will she be seen as happy that she was able to volunteer. She doesn’t know how she wants to be seen, really. Maybe she just doesn’t want to be seen at all. If she were lucky, her presence could be ignored, but since her dad is a victor, and she’s the first volunteer in decades, there’s bound to be a lot of noise around her.
All she knows is that the idea of smiling for the cameras or showing any amount of love for the Capitol would make her curl in on herself. No. She’s not going to give them the satisfaction. If she’s going to be miserable, she’ll make sure they know it.
Because how is any good going to come out of this situation? This Reaping was obviously meant to target her father, for some reason or another. Katniss doesn’t understand why, though. Entertainment seems like the obvious answer, but Katniss feels like it’s something else. Either way, it’s unlikely she’ll win these Games. The odds are not in her favor.
Katniss and Henry are taken into custody shortly after. No handcuffs or restraints of any kind, but they’re taken into the Justice Building and led into separate rooms while they await their loved ones.
Her dad likely won’t be allowed in the room, but her mom and Prim will, and that’s all Katniss really cares about. She’ll have plenty of time with her dad in the Capitol, since he’ll be her mentor.
Katniss paces the room back and forth, trying to keep herself as calm as possible. If she thinks realistically, she’s already won. Prim is alive, at least for this year, and that’s what matters.
Then the door to the room opens, and in runs Prim and her mother, who both hug her so tightly that Katniss almost loses her composure. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Prim says repeatedly into her dress, and Katniss shakes her head.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” She says firmly. “This isn’t your fault. You’re going to be just fine.”
“Promise me you’ll try,” Prim says, gripping Katniss’s dress even tighter. “Promise me you’ll try to win?”
Katniss can’t find it in her to be honest, so she simply nods her head, forcing a pliant smile onto her face. “I promise.”
Then, she looks up at her mother, whose eyes are filled with tears. “You guys are going to be fine,” Katniss repeats. “Don’t let them use you.”
“I won’t,” Her mother says, a hardness in her tone that Katniss recognizes as experience. Her mother has experience with this? If she weren’t dying in the next few days, she would ask. But she is, so she’ll let those unspoken questions she has go unanswered. Maybe her dad will know.
“Katniss, you know exactly what you’re made of,” Her mother tells her, taking her face in her hands. “Don’t let them change you. Don’t let them intimidate you or break you. Just be yourself.”
The words feel like they’re coming in one ear and out the other, but Katniss nods anyway. “Okay.”
All too quickly, her family’s time is up, and they’re ushered out of the room almost as quickly as they came in. Then, in walks Madge, whose expression is resigned.
“Oh, Katniss,” She says, and brings her in for a hug. She and Madge have never been particularly close, but the hug is welcomed all the same. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Katniss says. “Will you keep an eye on Prim?” Prim will obviously be fine. She’s never needed for food or shelter, but one thing she will need is company.
“Of course,” Madge says, and backs away. Then, she looks down at her dress and undoes the golden pin from the fabric. She takes it and presses it into Katniss’s hand. “They let you wear one thing into the arena, one thing from your district. Will you wear this?”
Katniss looks at the circular gold pin in her hand, taking in the design she hadn’t really noticed earlier. It appears to be a bird in flight. “Yes,” Katniss says, her voice beginning to sound uneven, and she clears her throat to hide it. Obviously, Madge notices anyway.
“Promise you’ll wear it?”
“I promise,” Katniss says, and fastens it to the fabric of her dress.
“Good,” Madge says, and leans in to give Katniss another gift. A kiss on the cheek. Then she’s gone, and Katniss feels her eyes start to water. All the goodbyes and promises are starting to get to her.
Nobody else comes to say goodbye to her, and Katniss thinks that’s for the best. She’s not offended, but grateful really. One more goodbye, and she’d probably start sobbing.
No, she’s fine. She’s not going to let them see any emotion from her.
The Peacekeepers come to retrieve her and usher her onto the train, which will take them to the Capitol. Her father and Haymitch will also be on the train, which provides her a little comfort. But not a lot.
Henry joins her shortly after, and before they know it, the train doors close, and they depart from District 12 for what is only the first and last time.
Effie eyes them warily. “You two can make yourselves comfortable.” Then she turns on her heel and walks away.
Henry scoffs quietly, like the idea of getting comfortable on a train going 250 miles an hour is an oddity; when Katniss really thinks about it, though, it is.
Her father and Haymitch must be used to it by now, given that they’ve both been doing this for decades.
“This is bullshit,” Henry mutters, and Katniss can’t help but agree. She nods her head silently, and the motion catches his eye. “I can’t believe they reaped your sister,” He says, his tone full of something that Katniss thinks is akin to pity.
“I can,” Katniss says, and his eyebrows raise a bit. “My father drilled it into us since we could talk that one day, either of us could be reaped.”
Henry scratches the back of his neck as he thinks about it. “I guess it wouldn’t be the first time a victor’s kid has been reaped. It’s just… fucked.” Then he stops for a second and looks up at Katniss. “Did your father tell you that if your sister got picked, to volunteer?”
Katniss balks at this. “No!” Then she sighs. “But I prepared myself to do it, just in case. He’d never ask either of us to do something like that. He’d tell us things, prepare us on what to do if we were to get picked, but he always treated us fairly.”
“I didn’t think he would,” Henry admits, looking a bit ashamed. “I just wondered if things were different growing up with a parent as a victor. It seems just as bad now, the more I think about it.”
Katniss isn’t sure what to think, isn’t sure whether or not she agrees with that. Their family had advantages that the rest of the district didn’t have, but they also grew up with the knowledge that they were more likely to be reaped, despite the fact that their names were only in the minimum number of times. Their father wouldn’t let them take out any tesserae, though it wasn’t like it was needed.
She’s about to respond when the door opens, and in walks her father and Haymitch, with the latter looking surprisingly sober. Her father’s eyes are hard, but Katniss can tell that he’s irrevocably, unequivocally sad about how things turned out. He’s trying to put on a tough face, whether it’s to comfort her or to follow her own approach, which is to not show any emotion. Either way, she appreciates it.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Haymitch begins, sitting down at the table in the middle of the train car. Her father moves to sit next to him, and he gestures for Katniss and Henry to follow. They sit across the table from their mentors, and things start to feel very serious. “First, let’s figure out whether you two are going to work together. You don’t have to, but it’s an option.”
Katniss and Henry both look at each other. She isn’t sure how she feels about Henry yet, but she doesn’t completely distrust him. She awaits his cue, though, because she doesn’t want to force him into an alliance if he doesn’t want one. Some people prefer to work alone, and while she’s normally one of them, she finds the idea of being in that arena all alone particularly devastating. One ally wouldn’t hurt, would it?
“Sure, if Katniss doesn’t mind, I’m fine with it,” Henry says, and Katniss nods once in agreement.
Her father lets out a deep breath, though Katniss can’t tell if it’s out of relief or exhaustion. Probably both.
“Okay,” Haymitch says. “And how are you going to get sponsors?”
Katniss stops at this. She had forgotten about sponsors, about what tributes usually do to get them. She asks a question she knows will get a bad answer, and it’ll likely end her and Henry’s short-lived alliance before it’s even started. “Do we have to be likeable to get sponsors?”
Haymitch sighs this time, obviously disappointed. “Yes, because to get sponsors, people have to want to root for you. If you go out there all pissy, they aren’t going to like your chances.”
“But she has a right to be pissy,” Henry says suddenly, and Katniss looks over at him, shocked that he’s defending her. She didn’t think the alliance would last through that question, not if Henry wants to live. “Her circumstances aren’t exactly great, are they? Would it really be shocking for her to appear angry? Wouldn’t people in the Capitol get it?”
“Sure, some of them would,” Her father answers this time. “But most of them believe that, for the districts, being chosen for the Games is a great honor, and if you volunteer, you want to be in the Games.”
“I was only doing it for Prim,” Katniss points out, and tries to ignore the crestfallen look on her father’s face. “I’d rather it be me than her.”
The room is silent for a moment. “You can play it however you want, Katniss. Henry. But just know that it is very, very likely you will get no sponsors if you go out there angry,” Her father advises.
“Why shouldn’t they know how angry we are?” Henry asks, running a hand through his hair. “This was my last year in the Reaping. I was almost out. But I got picked. And my chances aren’t very good, so yes, I’m pissed off. And screw them if they don’t like it.”
Katniss decides that she and Henry are going to be good friends during their time in the Capitol, even if it won’t end well for them.
Haymitch laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You kids are full of spunk, aren’tcha?”
“Are you sure?” Her father asks the pair of them, and they nod their heads. He observes them for a moment and then sits back in his chair, gears turning in his head. “In a little while, when we arrive at the Capitol, you two will have to get off the train, where Effie will escort you to the Remake Center. There’ll be crowds there, watching you. How are you going to play it?”
Katniss doesn’t take more than a moment to think about it. “Ignore them.”
Henry shrugs. “Spit on them?”
Haymitch actually cackles at this, but her father sighs. “Please don’t spit on anyone.”
“Why not?” Henry asks, sitting back in his chair. He doesn’t appear to take what he just said seriously. “I’ll likely be dead in a few days, anyway.”
“You’d think that, kid, but if you end up making it out of the arena, the Capitol won’t be too happy with you,” Haymitch says. He sounds like he has a lot of experience, and Katniss wonders briefly if the Capitol wasn’t too happy with him after his Games.
Her father clears his throat. “Why don’t we watch today’s summary? Check out the other tributes and see what we’re working with, okay?”
Katniss and Henry watch as the TV flicks on, and watch as Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith fill the screen. They always narrate the Games, since Katniss was old enough for her dad to let her watch. Even then, he didn’t seem particularly happy for her eyes to be trained on the screen. He looks especially unhappy now.
As they watch the tributes from 1 and 2 get reaped, Katniss only takes note of one volunteer. The tributes that are reaped are all between the ages of 16 and 18, with the exception of a little boy from 2, who looks scared out of his mind. Immediately, there’s an older boy volunteering for him, shoving him aside as he makes his way to the stage. The volunteer from 2 did save him from certain death, but the way he takes the stage is cocky, and Katniss sees that he did not do it for the little boy’s benefit. He did it for his own.
Still, Katniss can’t entirely hold it against him. Tributes from 1 and 2 are trained that way, taught to think that volunteering for the Games is a huge honor, and if you get reaped at the right age, you stand a very good chance of winning. They usually do, so it’s not so outlandish to think that way.
The tributes from 3 look terrified, but there’s a resourcefulness to their gaze that leads Katniss to think that they stand a decent chance. District 3 is known for bringing in smarter tributes, as they are known for their technology and electronics.
Then District 4 comes after, and Katniss watches on as a 16-year-old girl gets reaped, though she doesn’t look particularly pleased about it. District 4 is a Career district, along with 1 and 2, but there are not as many volunteers from there. Then another little boy gets called, and nobody volunteers for him. He’s small, his curly hair and frown making him stand out, and he stands on the stage patiently as the camera zooms in.
The commentators have the wherewithal to ask where all the volunteers from District 4 are this year, but Katniss just shakes her head. They really do think it’s such an honor to be here, don’t they? But it seems even they are a little confused that District 4 is sending someone so young this year.
The recap goes on as more and more children are reaped, with no volunteers to be called. Then District 11 comes up, and Katniss has to look away when another little girl gets reaped. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but her demeanor is so much like Prim’s that Katniss can’t look at the screen for a few moments. Her father lets out a sad sigh from across the table, and Katniss knows he’s thinking the same thing as her.
Nobody volunteers for her, either.
The boy from District 11, however, is strong, his eyes hard as he stands on stage. He spares one look at the little girl standing next to him and nods. She nods back.
“I wonder if they’re allies like we are,” Henry says, and Katniss shrugs.
“Guess we’ll find out soon,” Katniss answers.
“Not every tribute pairs up with their district partner, but it can provide certain advantages,” Haymitch says, crossing his arms. He looks thoughtful.
“Like company,” Her father supplies. “It’s always good to have someone watching your back.”
Then, District 12 shows up on screen, and Katniss feels her chest get tight when Prim’s name is chosen. She watches herself step out of the crowd, not 5 seconds after, and shoot an arm up, saying loudly, but clearly, “I volunteer as tribute.”
The commentators are in tears at the display, and Katniss wonders distantly if those tears are actually real. When Katniss says her own name into the microphone, one of them actually stands up to leave the room. “Poor Burdock,” Caesar says mournfully. “One of his daughters was going to end up going into the Games either way. Such a tragedy.” Then his face lights up. “But being the daughter of a victor, she’s sure to have a fighting chance. Perhaps not such a tragedy after all.”
Katniss feels like the wind just got knocked out of her. Henry places a steadying hand on her shoulder, and it helps a bit, but she can’t help but feel a little nauseous. They’re bringing attention to her, attention that she does not want, and attention that her father surely does not want. They have no need for pity or sympathy from the likes of the Capitol. They’re the ones who put them in this situation in the first place.
She watches mutely as Henry’s name gets called, and she silently admires his quiet resilience, with his head held high. Not arrogant, no, but determined. Caesar says something about how the tributes from 12 are more of a threat this year, and the recap ends.
“Are you sure we can’t spit on them?” Henry asks miserably, and Katniss actually smiles, though it feels a bit hysterical, given the circumstances.
“I’ll think about it,” Her father answers. Her smile gets a touch more genuine.
“Welp, that’s what we’re working with,” Haymitch says, shaking his head. “It’s already pretty clear how the Capitol thinks you two should play it. The question is, are you going to follow their example? Or stick with your original plan?”
“I don’t care how they want us to play it,” Henry says, voice firmer this time. He looks at Katniss. “What do you think?”
“I think we should stick with our original plan,” Katniss says, and Henry nods, looking relieved.
“Me too.”
“It’s surprising how agreeable you two are, already,” Haymitch says, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Don’t let something stupid get in the way of that, got it?”
They both nod. They’re not sure what kind of stupid things happen in the Capitol, but they make a silent pact.
Stick together, no matter what.