I do not own the Hunger Games okay? I have been wanting to do this for awhile but have not been able to come up with a good twist to have things work out. However, thanks to the help of SFC Bruce, I have been able to. Now a lot of this first chapter will be from Catching Fire, but the fic will not be at all like it at all. This is just to set everything up. But anyway, enough of this A/N, on with the fic!
Prim comes hone from school bubbling over with excitement. The teachers announced there was mandatory programming tonight. "I think it's going to be your photo shoot!"
"It can't be, Prim. They only did the pictures yesterday." I tell her.
"Well that's what somebody heard," She says.
When we gather around the television at seven thirty, I discover that Prim is right. Sure enough, there's Caesar Flickerman, speaking before a standing room only crowd in front of the Training Center, talking to an appreciative crowd about my upcoming nuptials. He introduces Cinna, who became an overnight star with his costumes for me in the Games, and after a minute of good natured chit-chat, we're directed to turn our attention to a giant screen.
I see now how they could photograph me yesterday and present the special tonight. Initially, Cinna designed two dozen wedding gowns. Since then, there has been the process of narrowing down the designs, creating the dresses and choosing the accessories. I could care less about this part of the mandatory programming. If this was all that President Snow wanted to show everyone, I do not see the point of it. Districts across Panem are starting to rebel and cause riots and THIS is what President Snow wants everyone to see, me in the ridiculous wedding dresses for a wedding that failed to do what he wanted it do. It's bizarre to watch when I think how I never even bothered to try one on before the cameras arrived. Those damn cameras. Taking away whatever was left of Katniss Everdeen when she came back from the arena. Caesar announces then that interested parties must cast their vote by noon the following day.
"Let's get Katniss Everdeen to her wedding in style!" He hollers to the crowd. I am about ready to shut off the television and maybe get ahold of Gale to try and explain away this to him, however feeble it may be when I hear more. "That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games and that means it is time for our third Quarter Quell!"
"What will they do?" Prim asked. Something sick and twisted. I thought as I looked at the screen more intently.
We turn to our mother, whose expression is solemn and distant. It is almost as if she is remembering something. "It must be the reading of the card." She says finally.
The anthem plays, and my throat tightens with revulsion as President Snow takes the stage. He's followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit holding a simple wooden box. The anthem ends and President Snow reminds us all of the Dark Days from which the Hunger Games were born. When the laws of the Games were laid out, they dictated that every twenty-five years the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell. It would call for a glorified version of the Games to make fresh the memory of those killed by the District's rebellion. Now it is happening again and I know he is wanting this one to really do what a Quarter Quell was meant to and that was to Quell the districts. I don't know if that will work. I mean if me and the berries was enough to spark this in the first place, then I think this will only add fuel to the fire. Unless it is some way merciful on the districts, then I think it would just make the rebelling Districts even more mad and give them more reason to fight.
President Snow goes on to tell us what happened in the previous Quarter Quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was forced to hold an election and vote on the Tributes to be sent and represent it."
I wonder how that must have felt. With the war so fresh then, I doubt that would make the districts mad when they were still very war weary at the time. It is worse I think to be turned over by your neighbors than have your name drawn from the Reaping Ball. But then again, that could just to cause disorganization in the districts to distract them.
"On the fiftieth anniversary," the president continues, "as a reminder that two rebels were killed for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."
I imagine facing a field of forty-seven instead of twenty-three. Worse odd, less hope and ultimately, more dead kids. That was the year that Haymitch won...
"I had a friend who went that year," says my mother quietly, and quite unexpected. "Maysilee Donner. Her parents owned the sweetshop. They gave me her songbird after. A canary."
Prim and I exchange a look. It's the first time we ever heard of Maysilee Donner. Maybe it was because my mother knew we would want to know how she died. We turn our attention back to the screen, as President Snow is getting to the moment of this year, the third Quarter Quell. "And now we honor our third Quarter Quell." The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. We can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had imagined centuries of Hunger Games. President Snow removes an envelope marked with a 75. He runs his finger over a small square of the paper and pulls out the card. Without hesitation he reads, "On the seventy fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the districts that the rebellion pitted brother against brother, and sister against sister, and to remind the districts that the strongest among us can never overcome the power of the Capitol, the Tributes for the Third Quarter Quell shall be chosen from the siblings or closest surviving relatives of the living Victors." President Snow takes a breath as he continues. "If the Victors have no remaining family, then their closest friends and even associates will be put into the reaping pool, no matter of age."
The room falls deathly silent. I look to my mother and to Prim, who looks like she about ready to burst into tears. We all know what this means. Prim is most likely going to be sent into the arena this year. Gale, and Rory would be in there as well. I know the closet associate of Haymitch would be Ripper at the Hob, or Hazelle as she was his housekeeper now, but the President has his cross-hairs on me and me alone since the Districts have started to Rebel. We don't want to say it, but we all know that the Reaping is going to be rigged so Prim will be selected. And with Thread as the new Head Peacekeeper, he will make sure that no one can take her place. I look over to my mother and see the same look that was on her face after my father died. She is gone again. I can't blame her, but it would help if I had someone who could be there for me. I am sending the sister I tried to save last year to the arena. I have to be the one to broker the deals to get what she needs to survive and I know she could never kill if it came to it. I couldn't save Rue and this is like that last time before. Only I am not there with her. Prim looks away from me as I look away from her. As soon as I hear her start to cry, the young Healer that she is who calmly faced the worst of the wounds and sickness with my mother this past winter, I hold onto her and feel the tears start to fall.
"There's still a chance I won't get Reaped, Katniss." Prim said in the way she did when she was comforting a young child who my mother was treating.
"The odds are not in our favor. The President hates me..." I say.
"May the odds be ever in your favor." Prim said. She may have barely been 13 but she was wise beyond her years.
"May the odds be ever in your favor, Prim." I say looking at her. I would like more than anything to run away but the time for that has gone. I cannot give into the urge to join Haymitch for a drink to just forget the world. Prim is what I need to focus on. Maybe I can teach her something but I don't know. The odds are certainly not in our favor.
So how was that? I know it is short but this is the prologue to everything. Once again, I would love to thank SFC Bruce for his idea for the Quarter Quell twist and if you have not read his awesome fic "Absolution" I suggest you do so now. Go to my profile and click on my favorite stories. Or my favorite authors for that matter. But not before you remember to read, (well you just did) and to review! Ciao for now,
otherrealmwriter
aka
Realm
