Save my Mockingjay
A/N: No this is not Seneca/Katniss, it involves Seneca/OC thank you very much. Anyways enjoy and I'm gonna try to get a new chapter up for all my stories tomorrow, well the ones I'm still writing anyways.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story
Chapter 1:
Four years ago
Effie Trinket rummaged around in the bowl then rummaged some more. When it settled on a piece of paper she could finally agree on she pulled it out. She cleared her throat and undid the little paper as slowly as possible. "Katniss Everdeen.' No, no, no, no! This could not be happening, my mother and Prim could survive without me but without Katniss…they were doomed. I saw the look on her face, and my mother's and sweet little Prim who was only 8 at the time.
"Stop, stop I'll take Katniss spot. Stop!" The peacemaker's brought her back and she fought them every step of the way. Before I walked up to the stage I took her face in my hands forcing her to look at me. "Be strong my little Mockingjay." She nodded tears flowing down her face as I made my way to the front. Effie pulled me a little too close and shoved a microphone at me.
"What your name dear? Go on don't be shy tell us your name." I took a deep breath and counted to ten before answering and addressing the crowd.
"Chaya Everdeen." (Shy-a)
"Ladies and gentlemen the victor of the 70th Hunger games, Chaya Everdeen.
(End flashback)
That had been four years ago, and now I sit and watch as Katniss did the same for Prim. I hadn't returned like I thought I would. Of course nothing ever has a happy ending for anyone that doesn't come from the Capitol. Snow had married me off to Seneca Crane, who was just a low rank Gamemaker. Now he was the Head Gamemaker and I had no doubt in my mind what he had planned would test my sister every minute until this awful slaughterhouse show was over. I was all too aware of the presence of him walking into the living room as I watched the faces of my mother and sweet baby sister Prim. The one who still had that adorable little duck tail. What would they do if she didn't return home? Would they blame me?
"Chaya? Isn't that your sister?" I rounded on him ready to scream and cry. He didn't care that it was my sister, didn't care what he put these children through, so long as he protected his own ass. He didn't care about me or what I was feeling, I was just something given to him, I couldn't even be the mentor because I had been married to someone in the Capitol. The only time he showed any affection towards me is when my little girl Jayden was born.
"Yes." Was all I could manage to get out. He pulled me into his arms, the arms that always made me forget how awful he really was. Despite me weak attempts to break free of his grasp he knew they were half hearted and held me anyways. After I could cry no more I pulled away from him and dried my face, it was unseemly for me to cry but I really didn't give a damn.
"Chaya get some sleep, it won't do her any good to have you worrying all night." I knew he was right but sleep wouldn't come that night nor any of the following nights. Knowing this he held me close like he did when I was pregnant with Jayden, keeps all nightmares at bay if only for tonight. It's times like these that I remember Seneca does have a humane side, that the Capitol had just locked it somewhere far away. I hear him humming, and I'm shocked to find it's the hanging tree tune. I roll over so my face is buried in his chest, allowing all thoughts of Katniss and the hunger Games to be forgotten for at least this one night. Because I know when I awake those same memories will be there to greet me full force.
Katniss would be arriving today along with her companion Peeta. I had seen the way her face changed when he announced he loved her. Katniss didn't do love, and she defiantly didn't do love that was forced upon her. In that way we were extremely similar. Many wives commented that it seemed as Seneca and I had true love, like many of them did not have with their husbands. I guess in a way I did love Seneca in a way. I would be hurt if he were to die and I would never certainly wish his death upon him. But my love could never go as deep as my mother had for my father. Knowing he probably has all these children's deaths planned out. I did what I had to, to stay alive. He chose this for a living and now there was no going back for him. Not until he died at least.