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

The Odds Were Not In Her Favour

Katniss' P.O.V.

I sit awkwardly at the table, reciting Peeta's words. "Actually, I painted a picture of Rue." Now, with all eyes trained on me, I swallow difficultly under Haymitch's glare. Twirling the edge of the napkin in my fingers, I try to keep my eyes focused on the flowery patterns inlaid in the red napkin.

Sighing, I let myself say what I had done before the gamekeepers. "I guess this is a bad time to mention I hung a dummy and painted Seneca Crane's name on it."

Silence ensues, and I can see the disapproval painted plainly on their faces. Even Cinna is disappointed with me, and suddenly my heart drops to my stomach and my hands become clammy.

"You... hung... Seneca Crane?" Cinna's words linger in the air as I try to think of a logical reply, which of course, I cannot.

So I just answer simply, "Yes. I was showing off my new knot-tying skills, and he somehow ended up at the end of the noose."

Effie's looking at me, but her eyes are unfocused. I'm not sure whether her make-up – eyeliner to be precise – has made its way into her eyes, or if, which I'm sure isn't the case, she is tearing up. Effie's hands are below the table, but I see Cinna's hand go towards her own as he clasps it in his huge, caring grasp.

As if realising she's frozen, Effie makes herself speak again, her jaw still tight as she whispers the words out. "Oh, Katniss," says Effie in a hushed voice. "How do you even know about that?"

But anger replaces regret, and I look Effie directly in the eyes, replying in a casual fashion. My words must come out too harshly, as I can see her face retort painfully as I respond to her question, "Is it a secret? President Snow didn't act like it was. In fact, he seemed eager for me to know."

The napkin she was gripping to under the table is brought up to her face as she rises from the table and out of the dining compartment. I follow her figure down the rocking carriages until the lights drown her figure in the yellow hue and she disappears from sight. The guiltiness I didn't want to feel drowns me in its hold as I force feed myself through the rest of the meal, looking up now and then to see if Effie will rejoin us, which no matter how hard I wish, she does not.

Feeling deflated and more apprehensive than ever before, I place my spoon down beside the bowl that holds a small trifle. I am not in the mood for eating, and by the looks of it, neither is Peeta anymore. Portia is picking at the custard top of the trifle, her eyes darting around the table at both me and Peeta alternatively. Cinna's leaning back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest as he examines my composure.

"Come on," Cinna says gently, "let's get those training scores."

I don't want to watch what scores they have for me, but I sit before the TV anyway. Portia keeps glancing sideways towards the door and I can see she's agitated.

As if on cue, Effie rejoins us keeping her head down to hide the red rings around her eyes. My heart jumps into my throat, but I don't say anything to her unless I upset her any more. Cinna places a soft hand on my tense shoulder, but keeps his eyes on Effie who has now drawn her knees to her stomach and placed her head on Portia's shoulder. Portia strokes her hair, like I would do to Prim in a comforting fashion when trying to calm her down. I don't know whether she's distraught about our actions or concerned about her position. All I know is that I've overdone it this time.

Staring back at the screen, mine and Peeta's face pop up clearly. District 12 is in bold letter that trail across the bottom of the screen. Then our scores fade into view and the impact takes my breath away. Both Peeta and I look to each other in shock and doubt as two twelves pop up on screen.

Hunger Games History. That's what we've made tonight.

"Why?" I ask, my attention now turned on Haymitch. "Why would they do this?"

"Because they need a target," replies Haymitch matter-of-factly. "You're the target, girl on fire." He alternated his stare between Peeta and I before his eyes settle on Peeta's face. "Lover boy, too."

I scowl at him which is returned with a sly smile. Effie, now appearing calmer, talks softly, her anger now evaporated

"I think it's time you two go to bed. After all, you both have a "big, big, big day tomorrow." Peeta rises, taking my hand in his own as he pulls me up with him and we walk silently to our quarters. He's about to turn away and retreat to his own room when I tug him back.

"Stay with me tonight?" The questions seems shy as it leaves my lips, but he smiles kindly at me, pulling me into his arms and resting his cheek on my head.

"Nightmares?" He whispers.

"Nightmares," I agree, knowing we both got them after the first games.

Letting me go, I step back slightly. "I have to do something first," I blurt out before Peeta steps away from me again.

"Come and find me when you're done, Katniss. You know where I am." I nod, letting his hand fall to his side as I let go before making my way down to Effie's sleeping quarters.

I know she's wake because of the soft light illuminating her compartment. Soft words are being exchanged and I know no-one's in her room but her. Curious, I peer through the ajar door, to where I see a smaller version of the plasma TV in the viewing room on her wall opposite her bed. A young woman sits on the edge of the bed. Her hair is absent of her wig and her natural mousy blonde hair runs freely down her back and over her shoulder blades barely covered by the thin straps of her nightgown. Her face is soft in the light; now free of make-up her face is crimpled with grief as she stares blankly at the screen, her eyes wide as she basks in a man's voice I recognise albeit with difficulty.

Young. I realise Effie Trinket looks very young. Maybe late twenties, early thirties. Without all the Capitol's merchandise, Effie looks almost vulnerable, not at all like she is in the presence of her two tributes – or anyone for that matter.

The screen flickers to the next clip and I see the images reflect of her face. Tears roll silently down her cheeks as she sits paralysed on the foot of her bed, her arms wrapped across her torso.

I hate intruding in general, but this was Effie. In barely three days time she'd be betting on whether we lived or not.

The man on the screen looks eerily familiar. It's either his beard or his face, but then Effie's high trilled voice booms from off screen as she calls the man to her. "Seneca!" My blood runs cold and a cold sweat breaks causing beads to dot my brow.

How did she know him?

"I know you're there, Katniss," Effie calls softly from inside her room. "I may be Capitol cultured, but I'm not stupid." She sighs, but makes no move to me or to wipe her cheeks of the tears that stream down them. "So come in if you must, girl on fire. I know you're dying to know about this."

A frown pulls my brows together and a grimace twists my lips down. "Seneca Crane?" I ask, suddenly, pushing the door slightly so it wasn't fully open, just enough so I could squeeze through. Effie doesn't look up, just looks on.

"Seneca Crane," Effie repeats as he arms hold her tighter.

Her grief is causing my throat to constrict, but I refuse to cry. I hop from foot to foot awkwardly as I stand slightly in front of the door, ready to leave if need be. Effie pats the space next to her, saying nothing to accompany her gestures. I accept the gesture and sit shoulder to shoulder with her now, watching together as she watched the footage continue on.

Seneca's got his arms wrapped around Effie's body as he swings her around in a circle, laughing and smiling. Her natural hair is flailing around her heart-shaped face as a broad smile crosses her lips, her own laugh echoing his. She's so happy, it almost hurts.

"Why do you watch this if it hurts you?" I ask. There's no resentment or anger, just concern lacing my words now.

Effie glanced at me before he eyes wandered again to the film. "Because I'd rather remember him like this," she breathes, her voice cracking slightly. "Not some bloody pulp lying in a pool of blood."

I catch my breath as the next clip emerges. Effie's lying propped up on a hospital bed, her hair pinned up with jewelled clips. Seneca's got the camera now and he's teasing her with it.

"We're not here to film me, Sen," onscreen Effie whines. "We're here to see this." Effie places her hands on her lower abdomen where a small bump has begun to protrude. A fleeting smile crosses Effie's lips as she makes small circles with her fingers on the skin of her stomach.

I make sure to quickly reach for her hand as sobs rack her frail frame. "I'm so sorry, Effie."

"What, this little squirt?" Seneca places a hand upon her own and places a kiss upon her rosebud coloured lips.

"Our baby," Effie whispers almost inaudibly back.

And then the screen dissolves into darkness as the film ends.

"Our... baby," Effie manages tochoke out through sobs.

I can feel my own eyes beginning to prick with the tears that threaten to fall. "I never knew, Effie," I say. Because if it were one thing, I never did expect this once. If I did, the dummy wouldn't have happened.

"I was insensitive earlier, Effie. I'm sorry."

I try to lift her chin, but she refuses to meet my eyes. Her hands are placed over her abdomen, and I ask the question without really thinking.

"The baby?"

Effie's face, although she's now controlled, distorts in pain and I regret my words.

"Gone." Was all she can say in reply.

I hold her tighter as she rests her head on my shoulder. Tears stain my blouse, but I don't care.

"I'm glad you did what you did, Katniss."

"But-

"But?" She questions, a hint of anger reverberating through her voice. "But the Capitol forced an abortion on me!" She screeches. "Illegal! Punishable by flogging! And President Snow forced it upon me!"

Effie's pacing now, I can tell by her eyes she's disorientated. With each step, I see her falter and she finally falls to the floor as her knees lock with emotion. I catch her in my arms, already prepared with what might happen.

"When?"

"Mere weeks ago – before you were announced for the Quarter Quell."

I close my eyes and remember the day mother lost our little brother or sister through a miscarriage. It was just after father had died. Distraught, yes, very distraught, was what my Mother became.

"And they made me watch," she whispers on, "As they tied his hands behind his back and beat him. As they prolonged his death for hours on end, for entertainment, only to finally end by slitting his throat."

I feel physically sick as Effie confides in me. "And I sat holding him as they left the room, rocking him back and forth in my arms as I told him how much I loved him. He suffered so badly, so terribly," she squeaked on verge of tears again, "and I couldn't save him."

I kissed her hair, unsure of what to do but to just hold her still, like she did Seneca.

And Peeta never saw me that night, because I was trying to save another from the nightmares that plagued her. And during that time, as her eyes finally closed in exhaustion, I decided I would win this for the both of us.

A/N – I know this didn't happen in the books, I just thought they'd go so well together – Effie and Seneca.

Anyways, Please Review! Feedback's always appreciated!

A/N (2) - Sorry if it feels that way, Smiles. I realise the similarities to your friends story now, but it wasn't intentional. I've read many SenecaXEffies stories, that I thought they were the perfect characters to write about. And believe me, this has been brewing in my mind for a few weeks. I've just never had the chance to write until now.

I used this particular chapter from Catching Fire because of the distress Effie comes across as being in, so again, not intentional! Believe me, I didn't realise until your review, the similarities.

Anyway, I've decided to make this a multi-chapter story based around love that has been "lost." The next chapter will be about Haymitch and his sweetheart, so this is just a beginning chapter so to say.

Thank you for the heads up, Smiles, but I didn't realise until now. Believe me, I wouldn't intentionally copy another's story!

Thanks, Katie1995 :)