A/N: Ummmm, heyyyy kelllyo!
belzo, what's this... a NEW FIC?
I think it is! And AND! We are delving into a land where we have never been before!
So true! The world of... *gasp* THE HUNGER GAMES
But, just like all of our other fic we don't own anything about this. Alll Suzanne Collins.
And yanno what? I don't mind that because she's a much better writer than *ahem* other authors that we've written fanfic based off of
Now, now. No need to be accusitory. Jane Austen wrote in a different time, lady :P
Right... because I meant Ms. Austen. Clearly.
Knew it. Shall we get going then?
Sure, but we promise in return for reviews, we won't turn this into 100 shades of Haymitch if you love it.
haha, thank goodness for that.
Seriously.

Prologue

By all accounts the games were over. The dust had settled and the two infants had become adults. No, more than that, they had become figureheads in a society where I'd learned the hard way it was better to blend in.

But there was no blending in after you won the games.

You were segregated in every positive and negative way. The Capitol always had an eye on you, cautious of the prowess displayed in the ring.

After all, you had killed 23 to get to the winner's circle. What was to stop you from continuing? What if, instead of putting the fear of God in the districts, in your district, you had simply made the population realize the power it could have, if it harnessed it as a collective?

So with one eye on each winner (except District 2 of course), they corralled us. They made us outsiders in our own homes. They put us up in mansions and made sure we had all the food, money and necessities we could ever think to dream up.

They made sure the people of District 12 were not only proud, but jealous of me.

It didn't feel like I had won anything when I'd been crowned victor, and I could tell by the look on Peeta and Katniss' faces that they shared in the sentiment.

Well, at least Katniss did.

Peeta, for as selfless as he was, had a lot to be desired in way of a warrior; in as much as Katniss was a fighter but didn't have a clue how to have a pleasant disposition. Neither would have won without the other.

Now that we were back in District 12 with the looming Quarter Quell, it was difficult to explain what this would mean. Neither of them had seen one, and yet they would undoubtedly play a role: either as a fellow mentor, or worse.

The year I'd won had been a Quarter Quell and if those games were any indication of what was going to come of this year's, they had a lot to prepare for.

For one, the Capitol wouldn't be likely to allow multiple victors again. In that sense, the two teenagers couldn't give proper advice on how to stay alive. They'd stayed alive by relying on each other, and that is one of the most damaging things you can do when you're in there: to depend on someone else to always have your back.

Secondly, it would be hard enough strategizing with them when they'd barely spoken since coming back from the victory tours.

I didn't regret the strategy I'd put into place on their behalf because they'd both gotten out of there alive - which was something I'd never considered. At the end I assumed it would be them two and Peeta would kill himself, or Katniss would take him out. But as the games wound down, it was difficult for even me to decipher if Kitty Kat was still playing the game or if she'd come down with a lovesick version of Stockholm Syndrome.

Though, after returning to District 12 it was clear she was a much better actress than I'd given her credit for. Once the cameras had gone home and the fanfare had died down, so too had their relationship.

No, I'd had no assumption that they would carry on in the overly sentimental fashion they had for the games, but now they hardly spoke.

Or rather, Peeta refused to acknowledge Katniss.

And when you are isolated from everyone you've grown to know and love, the people in the Victory Village are really the only people you can understand.

Well, that and crates of clear liquor if you personify them.

Did I care if they liked each other? Not really. My job wasn't to care about their teenage heartache; my job had been to keep them alive, which I'd done more successfully than any other mentor in Hunger Games history.

I had kept both the tributes alive.

But it was evident from the initial tone in President Snow's voice as I sat in my own filth, watching and waiting for him to announce the rules for this year's Quarter Quell, that he had no plan of making multiple survivors a regular option.

"Good evening citizens of Panem," President Snow's voice rang out, clear and with the stain of superiority that matched his demeanor. "Thank you for taking the time to view this message. We at the Capitol are excited for this year's Quarter Quell and expect that all of you are eagerly anticipating what changes are to come with the anniversary games."

He paused glancing to the side and the cameras followed, giving a panoramic view of the brightly lit, bustling capitol.

With all its glamour and unseen blood on its hands, Snow returned to face the camera. He smiled warmly but the disdain crept onto his face, creating more of a sinister grin than an expression of true joy.

"Since the nation of Panem is a family, it is with that spirit that the terms of this year's Quarter Quell are derived. The tributes will be selected amongst previous Hunger Game winners and their families. There will be no prejudice on gender; however the minimum age limit will remain at 12. The names of the participants will be posted in one hour's time on the screen in each district's town square. Mentors, your job will be to collect the tributes and house them in the Victor's Village for the night. Trains will come to collect mentors and participants at 8a.m. tomorrow morning. Thank you."

No, this would be as any other.

Only one life spared.