The Unexpected Tribute

a Hunger Games fanfiction

by Technomad

Chapter 1.

From the memoirs of Peeta Mellark.

I remember the day of the Reaping as though it were yesterday. Of course, the Capitol's announcement that the Quarter Quell's Tributes would be Reaped from the ranks of previous victors had been a shock, but after Katniss and I had forced their hands in the previous Games, they felt they had to do something to assert their dominance. Katniss said that they were like any other wounded animal; if something threatened it, that something, whatever it was, had to be destroyed. And we, just because we both wanted to live, were a threat.

We'd been training up for some time, rather like the Career Tributes. Haymitch had been a fountain of information. He'd been going to the Capitol every year for decades, and knew a great deal about all the other Victors. When we'd come home, he had welcomed us, in his snarky way, to "the most exclusive club in Panem." Victors have a bond among themselves; even seeing one Victor's Tributes killing or being killed by another's doesn't shake that bond. Nobody else in all Panem knows what being a Victor is like. And I have too much compassion to ever wish that they would know.

The three of us, Haymitch, Katniss, and me, were marched into the square by the new Peacekeepers. This new bunch weren't at all like the rather slack, corrupt group we'd had for so long. Like it or not, our victory had turned the Capitol's baleful eye toward our district, and a lot of what they'd seen hadn't pleased them at all. The rules had been tightened up and were being enforced ruthlessly. They had raided the Hob, disrupting the system of low-level commerce we used to keep ourselves afloat, and these days, the electric fences were on almost all the time, making Katniss' and Gale's hunting trips all but impossible. The whipping post had been put back into use, and I knew that quite a few of my neighbors' backs bore the mark of the Peacekeepers' lashes.

However, we had not been cowed. The impression I had was that most people were biding their time, awaiting the particular moment when they could strike back, hard. On our Victory Tour, Katniss and I had seen signs and portents: graffiti of the Mockingjay, people quietly giving us the District 12 salute for one that is loved, and things like that. The Peacekeepers had clamped down brutally on any such signs of dissent, but they couldn't be everywhere, and they were always outnumbered. My thought was that our little rebellion in the Arena had lit the fuse, and an explosion was on the way.

As we were marched in, the people we passed were silent and outwardly impassive, but I could tell what they were thinking. I'd known these people all of my life, after all. They were outraged; as outraged as I was myself. The deal had always been: Win the Hunger Games, and you are immune from Reaping for the rest of your life, and get to live a life of leisure and luxury. The Capitol had blatantly reneged on the terms of the deal, and even those of us most resigned to the way things had always been were upset about it. The Peacekeepers were aware of the way people felt, and I could feel their nervousness, even behind those impassive facemasks the new ones wore.

We walked through an echoing, ominous silence up to the platform, where Effie Trinket was waiting for us, along with the local dignitaries. I had come to know Effie, and I could tell that she was not happy at all about what she was doing. Her mouth was twisted in a rictus grin, but anybody who'd met her would know that she was upset. Her eyes gleamed with unshed tears.

We stood up there, patiently, as the same old movie was shown that is shown every year, about the war, the Dark Days, the Treaty of Treason and the start of the Hunger Games. I could have recited the soundtrack, word for word, and so could almost everybody else in the audience save only the youngest children. Finally, mercifully, the platitude-laden paean to the glorious Capitol's justice, generosity and mercy came to an end, and we could get to the business of the day.

Effie tottered over to the bowls; those incredibly high heels she wears aren't really suited to conditions here in District 12. My brothers and I used to speculate about what would happen if she fell flat on her face in front of us. Now I know; she wouldn't be back next year, we'd have a new Reaper, and she'd be an Avox. She may be an empty-headed Capitol frill, but she doesn't deserve that. Unobtrusively, I poised myself to offer her my arm if she looked like she was going to fall. I tensed up until she made it safely over to the bowl.

Her voice was uncharacteristically soft as she said: "As always, ladies first." She reached into the bowl and took the one slip out, her hand trembling. The silence stretched out as she unfolded the slip and husked: "Katniss Everdeen." Effie held out her arm and Katniss came over from where the Victors stand, to stand with Effie and be introduced as the new Tribute. The crowd looked on, silent, but radiating disapproval. The expressions I saw ranged from blank, to grim, to scowling angrily.

"Wonderful!" Effie tried to put some of her usual ebullience into her voice, but it didn't work. A little kid could have perceived that she wasn't happy. Then she tottered over to the other bowl. "And now, for the boys." She reached in, pulled out one of the two slips that nestled at the bottom, and went back to her microphone. She unfolded it, and read out a name: "Peeta Mellark!"

For all that I had known that this was coming, I still felt a sick falling feeling inside. Just like I had last time. I had thought, in my innocence, that after the last Games, I was off the hook. Then the Capitol's treachery had warned me that this could happen, but I had hoped that I would still be spared. I stepped forward, only to be yanked back by a hand on my shoulder.

Haymitch Abernathy stepped forward. "I volunteer as tribute!" he announced, stepping up beside Effie.

I suddenly felt outraged. Who was Haymitch, to take my place beside Katniss? I grabbed his shoulder to spin him around, when all of a sudden, he grasped my hand and did something I can't really describe. All I know is that all of a sudden, I was bent over, gasping in pain, as Haymitch looked at me impassively.

In a low voice, for my ears alone, Haymitch murmured: "I may have taught you everything you know about the Games, kid…but I didn't teach you everything I know!" When he let go of my arm, all I could do for a few seconds was shake it to try to get some feeling back in it. Haymitch stepped back to Effie's side, and suddenly, the crowd reacted.

First Prim, then Mrs. Everdeen, then Gale, then more and more people raised their hands in the traditional salute to say farewell to one who is greatly loved. A soft chant started, growing and swelling: "Haymitch! Haymitch! Haymitch!" It grew, until it echoed off the buildings. The Peacekeepers looked around themselves uncertainly, fingering their weapons and clearly wondering if this was going to turn into a riot.

I could tell that Haymitch himself was startled. He'd never really been popular; his drunkenness, his prickly personality and the yearly deaths of the Tributes he was supposed to mentor had assured that. But now, all that was forgotten, and all people saw was one of their own, stepping forward to certain death even when nobody at all would have blamed him for staying out. For the first time since his victory, Haymitch knew that he was loved, and I could see that it startled him. He raised his hand, returning the salute, as Katniss turned and saluted him. That brought quite a few people in the crowd to tears.

Effie finally gasped out: "Wonderful!" She put her arms around Haymitch's and Katniss' shoulders, and then the Peacekeepers sprung into action. I suspect their commander gave them an order; those helmets they wear include radio transceivers.

In unison, they came up the stairs, bundling all four of us into the Justice Building. This was different from how it had been before. They were shoving us onto the train even as Katniss was gasping: "I get to say goodbye!" The last view I had of my people were their horrified faces as they saw us hauled away on the train.

Once we were alone, I turned on Haymitch. "You son-of-a-bitch, what do you mean, volunteering? That spot was mine!"

Haymitch leaned close, close enough that I could smell his breath. For a guy who seemed to take such bad care of himself, he had surprisingly good breath, a small part of me noted. The rest of me was paralyzed by his eyes. Even in the arena, I had never seen such a frightening look in my life. For the first time, I remembered that this man had won a Quarter Quell, against twice the number of opponents Katniss and I had faced.

"Listen, kid," Haymitch said, his voice low and even, "I'm still your elder. As such, I do like a certain minimal amount of respect, and that, of the commonest and ordinariest variety. I'm also your mentor, still. As such, my job is to keep you and Katniss alive. No matter what it takes. Got me?"

I nodded. Haymitch smiled. "Good! Then we understand each other, don't we, mentor?"

"Loud and clear!" I gulped.

"Then let's rejoin the ladies. They're probably worried about what we're up to." We went on into the next room, where Katniss and Effie were waiting for us. They gave us anxious looks, so, to cheer them up, I grinned and clapped Haymitch on the back.

"Looks like Haymitch and I have swapped places," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "I've never mentored anybody before, but I knew I'd have to start doing it this year." Katniss' eyes went wide, and Effie gave us a watery smile. I could tell she'd been crying. While I still think she's a complete airhead, I don't think it's her fault, and I hate to think of her being hurt.

Haymitch and I sat down, and I turned to him. "So. This mentoring thing. What do you suggest we do for starters?"

"I'd suggest some food, to begin with. We didn't get any breakfast." As though they'd been waiting for Haymitch's words, a couple of Avoxes came in and began setting us up with a table, pulling plates off a covered cart and setting them out for us. As we moved over to the table, Haymitch gave me a look. "Where are your manners, Peeta? Help Katniss with her chair!"

I blushed. I'd seen that done, on the television, but never done it. I pulled out Katniss' chair and she sat down, giving me a quizzical look, as Haymitch gallantly did the same for Effie. I caught Haymitch's eye, and he gave me a wink. Inside, I relaxed a little for the first time since I'd awakened that morning knowing that come what may, I'd be on the train to the Capitol before sunset. Ostensibly, I'd be mentoring, but Haymitch was still our guide through this dangerous world. He'd just picked a different way to do it, and I knew that Katniss' life was as safe with him as it could ever be anywhere in Panem.

As always, the food was incredibly good. I'd heard that some Tributes stuffed themselves so much on the train that they were sick by the time they got to the Capitol, and I could believe it. Biting into a delicate puffed pastry, I wondered if, as a mentor, I would get a chance to meet some of their master bakers. I was already very good at my craft, but I knew there was much I had yet to learn.

END Chapter 01