(A/N – I do not own the characters or The Hunger Games in any way, all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins.)

Always

(Katniss' Mum's/Mrs. Everdeen's P.O.V.)

Prim walks past me humming a tune she made up earlier today. Next week she'll be turning five, and my husband, Cedar, has promised her a birthday present. I smile as she stands next to me on the stool, her hair in two French braids that run down her back. Her fair, blonde hair reflects the sun that comes through the coal dusted windows. I'm working hard on finishing coats for both Prim and Katniss for the winter, so that unlike last year, the coldness won't affect them so badly. Prim's eyes concentrate with immense interest on my working finger.

"Mama," she trills, "what are you doing?" Smiling, I stop for a moment to stroke wisps of hair back into place, and put a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm making your sister and you coats for the winter," I answer as she tries to copy my hands.

Creasing her brow, she asks, "couldn't you just buy some coats?"

Sighing, I place the material down and pick her up into my arms. She giggles as I spin her around and place her on my lap at one of the kitchen table's chairs. "Because, my flower, it is more fun to create things yourself than it is to buy them all the time." I couldn't tell her the truth. That although my Husband worked, and I had a small apothecary shop, money was still extremely tight and not at all at our expense.

"Okay." And unlike her sister, Prim was very understanding at this tender age. Katniss used to say things that caused panic among us. It just wasn't safe with The Capitol's machines hanging around, and so the things she said she had to stop saying, which fortunately, she did.

Tickling her, she squirmed on my lap and laughed until it became silent shakes. Laughing with her, I watched two figures slowly become bigger as they walked towards our small but comfortable Seam house. However, my smile soon became a frown as I heard what they were singing.

"Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Cedar and my eldest daughter trail through the door, both of them in their hunting boots. I trace y eyes on Cedar's back until he's forced to look directly at me.

"Prim," I whisper, "go and play with your sister, please." My youngest daughter does not disobey, and I realise my tone must imply I am no longer happy.

"Cedar," I sigh as the wooden door closes calmly behind Katniss and Prim. "I've told you about this before."

My husband's chest falls as a sigh deflates his response. Instead, he comes over and wraps his arms around my waist, placing his chin on my right shoulder, kissing my cheek lightly. "You know I don't mean any harm by it, Dahlia."

Unwrapping his arms from my body, I walk over to the kitchen table and sit down, my fingernails drumming against the wooden structure. His footfalls cause the floorboards to creak uncertainly and he stand slightly to my left in front of me, his hunting cap held tightly in his hands. I brush my feelings for him to the side and sit upright and rigid on the kitchen table's counterpart.

"You remember, don't you?" I ask in a hushed whisper, "what Katniss used to say about The Capitol?" I look up and see him nod. "She still slips sometimes as well, I add quickly, determined to cement my words into his head.

"I know that –

"So you must understand, Cedar, for me, that I do not want any harm coming to any one of us. Please." Shaking his head, he kneels down in front of me and claps my face in both of his large, familiar hands.

"I wouldn't do anything to harm any one of them," he says, his voice breaking. "You know that. I love them from the bottom of my heart." I try to flick my eyes away from his face, but his Seam grey eyes hold me captivated like the day I first met him.

"I know," I choke out in a rush. "I know you wouldn't. It's just" – I pause and place my hands over his hands now placed on my lap – "it's just Katniss has two years left now before the..." I stop suddenly as the word refuses the leave my throat.

"Reaping," my husband finishes, gently.

I nod in response and he pulls me into his familiar body the smell of pine stains his shirt. I smile weakly into his chest as he strokes my blonde hair.

"I've been very strict with Katniss, Dahlia. I've told her straight not to take any tessearae; Prim will be told the same when she comes of age."

I push myself desperately closer into his muscular chest, leaning my head on his broad shoulders. "I just don't want to lose them," I mumble into his shirt.

Holding me tighter to him, he hums a few verses of a lullaby he sings to the girls as they fall into a slumber. "No parent does," he replies, finally.

I stand in the crowds of mothers, my thoughts a frenzy as I keep watch of my two daughters in the crowds before me. Katniss stands with her back to me, but every now and then she looks back over her shoulder to find Prim who's stood shaking with the other twelve year olds. Hazelle, Gale's mother, stands next to me, her hand in mine as Effie Trinket crosses the podium and stand up by the microphone.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She trills, the ridiculous pink wig slipping severely to the right. "And may the odds be ever in your favour," she adds.

Prim turns quickly to catch my eye and I nod to her because I don't know how else to comfort my daughter who at this precise moment in time, I'm not allowed to go near to. Katniss looks back at me, too, and I realise she's worrying about Prim just the same as me.

"Ladies first!"

I watch each of Effie Trinket's steps with incredible interest, hoping somehow that she'll be distracted, or something will suddenly prevent her from reaping these children's names, but of course, no amount of wishing could prevent something so terribly planned from happening. A sudden urge causes me to look over at the men, husbands and fathers stood watching the reaping. Cedar's words echo in my mind, "No parent does." And as my eyes scan the group of men, I realise with sudden burden that Cedar's no longer there; that my husband is no longer here to support his wife or his daughters anymore; that the job he was forced to do had resulted in his demise.

A weight seems to crush my chest and I stumble backwards. I'm not sure whether it's because the name that has just resounded off every building in District 12, or the fact I've in fact again, realised I'm failing my husband in promising to keep them safe.

Hazelle catches me before I fall completely, and I stand in a daze, watching on the huge screens they've placed around the Justice building show my Prim – my youngest daughter – trail slowly up to the make shift stage. I start to push forwards in desperation, but a peacekeeper blocks my way.

"She's my daughter!" I scream, struggling against the white material.

The man does not move and instead a voice, a horribly familiar voice pipes up.

"Prim!" The screens show a view over the standing audience and I see Katniss pushing her way through everyone. "Prim!" Prim looks behind her and its long enough for Katniss to take her under her wing and declare, "I volunteer. I volunteer as tribute!" I'm feeling weak again as my family is torn apart. But what makes it worse, is the whole population has gone quiet and I can hear their voices and the pain that laces their words crystal clear.

"No, Katniss! No! You can't go!" Prim's wrapped her arms tightly around Katniss and my eldest daughter is remaining purposely calm.

"Let go," she warns, but Prim doesn't let go. "Let go," Katniss repeats.

I break free from the peacekeeper and run towards my two girls, but two pairs of white arms catch me quickly. "No!" I yell as they drag me back again. "No!"

Other mothers are giving me pitying looks as I trip in grief fall to the floor. Gale's coming towards me with a struggling Prim in his arms and the tears now begin to fall as he places her in my arms. Picking me up, Gale embraces us in his arms and I hold Prim into me as tightly as I dare. She's sobbing into my shirt and all I can do is stare at my daughter on stage now, her eyes unfocused towards the audience. A Mockingjay whistle flies through the breeze and I swear I catch Cedar stood behind Katniss if just for a moment. Hope. And although the odds are not in our favour, I realise Cedar kep t his promise to protect his children. Always.

A/N – I don't know, it just came to me suddenly. Anyways, I always thought what it would be like to me Katniss' mum at the reaping, so here we go.

Like always, if you enjoyed it, please review thanks, Katie1995. :)