Part I: Origins
Chapter 1: Donors
Estes Everdeen hurried over to the bar in the Hob of District 12 one stormy autumn night. Taking a stool at the counter, he flicked a couple of coins down in front of Ripper, the bartender. The old woman eyed him with concern, but presented him with his drink.
"Are you feeling all right, Estes? You've never been the type for booze."
Estes waved her concern away. "Just leave the bottle."
The next few minutes were spent with the young miner anxiously tapping his feet on the stool, glancing at the battered watch that had been a wedding gift from his now deceased mother, God rest her soul. It was old, but still kept remarkably reliable time - a heaven-sent gift especially in the mines, as he waited for quitting time so he could return to his wife and let her know he had survived another day.
His wife. Poor Lillian. Lillian, whom he had left just now crying at their kitchen table, a slip of paper in her hand with a big 'minus' sign on it. Uncolored - indicative of a reality they had been anticipating for years, but had still maddeningly failed to appear.
A scuffling of chair legs snapped Estes out of his thoughts. His guest had arrived, looking out of breath.
"Hey, Cotton," he greeted Cotton Hawthorne - his fellow miner and best friend.
"I came as quickly as I could when Hazelle arrived home and told me," Cotton panted. "What's happening, old friend?"
"Nothing... much..." Estes's lip trembled, and before he could contain himself, he broke down in tears. Cotton pulled him into a hug.
"There, there... pull yourself together! People are staring."
Estes wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve, gesturing to the almost full bottle of whiskey. "Pour yourself a round? I got loads to tell you."
Before long, both men were somewhat buzzed.
"Poor Lillian. How many times have you tried - three?"
"Four," Estes huffed gloomily.
"I can't understand it. She'd make an excellent mother! And Hazelle and I have never had any trouble." Cotton bit his tongue, not wanting his friend to take that last part of his comment the wrong way. Hazelle was expecting their fourth child, due sometime the following spring.
"It's not Lillian's fault, buddy. It's me. I'm infertile - have to be."
Cotton seized Estes's shoulder. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't you dare put yourself down, Estes Everdeen. You're more of a man than anyone I've ever met."
"Oh, yeah? Then answer me this: why have I failed for five goddamn years to get the love of my life, the light of my love, pregnant with a baby?"
"We don't know if it's you, or if it's Lillian. Maybe it's neither. Maybe it's just a run of bad luck, is all."
"Yeah, and I sure as hell know who has all the luck! You and Hazelle are popping out babies like their loaves of bread!"
Cotton eyed his friend warily. "Don't look at me like that! Whatever you need to say, say it! Don't matter if you're drunk or not!"
"That's not what I'm implying at all! I'm not envious of you..." Estes thought for a moment. "In fact, I bet you could help me - help me and Lillian..."
Cotton's eyes widened even more and he leaned further away from young Everdeen. "Estes... I don't like where this is going..."
"Well, it's going there, you unimaginative son-of-a-bitch! Let's just think about it for a moment, shall we? Let's just think about it for a second!: if you have gotten Hazelle pregnant with healthy babies every year for the last four years, you obviously have something I don't. Some kind of, I don't know... touch..."
"Estes, this is sexual intercourse, not a magic trick! I don't think you realize that you're proposing I sleep with your wife! Get her pregnant!"
"I didn't say that!"
"Maybe not, but you all but implied it - it's written all over your face!" Cotton faced Estes, his gaze hard. "Estes: we're friends, buddies - Hazelle and I would do anything for you! We stood by you and Lillian's marriage when no one else would. But to betray my wife in the uncertain hope that I might provide a child where you can't... that's... that's something I cannot do. I can't do that to Hazelle - and, no, even if I talked to her about it, I don't think she would understand!" He raised up a hand to silence an impending protest on Estes's lips.
"But maybe Hazelle would understand! If it would help Lillian and I start a family... maybe it wouldn't be a betrayal." Estes folded his hands in a silent plea. "Cotton, I am begging you: just talk to her."
Cotton sighed. He did not want to betray his marriage vows, but if it helped out his best friends get the child they had always wanted... "All right, I will talk to Hazelle. But I can't promise she'll say yes."
Estes smiled, and Cotton returned it before holding out a hand. "Come on, I'll take you home."
As the two men staggered out of the Hob, a figure at the far end of the bar, cloaked in shadow, observed their departure. Like a fugitive Jedi from the fantasy stories of old, the most legendary person in all of District 12 stroked his chin in thought, pondering what he had just overheard.