Author's Note: edited August 17, 2018
Chapter Two – The Train Ride
PRIM
The moment the train doors closed behind them, it lurched forward at an unwarranted speed, catching both Prim and Peeta off guard, and because of her small stature, causing Prim to stumble slightly with Peeta there to catch her and keep her on her feet. She looked up at him and thanked him with a genuine smile.
The train was even fancier than the Justice Building, and Peeta and Prim were each given their own chamber, containing a bedroom, a dressing area, and a private bathroom with hot and cold water. Their drawers were filled with fine clothes, and Effie told them that they can do what they wished, wear anything, and that everything was basically at their disposal. She also reminded them to be ready for supper in an hour, and Prim had decided to use that time to shower.
She took off her dress, setting it on the floor carefully and neatly before stepping in and turning the water on. She sighed as the warm water pelted against her skin, and was surprised at how pleasant it felt, having never had a shower before. She supposed it felt like being in the rain, though not quite as freeing. Looking through the clothes at her disposal, she chose a pale yellow dress and did her hair in two braids, parting her hair down in the middle and placing each half into a French Braid, like her mother had done for the reaping.
She was just about to leave her room when she remembered the pin that Madge had given her. Finding that there was no harm in getting to the habit of wearing it, Prim unclasped the pin and studied it in her fingers.
It was a mockingjay, the crossbreed of a jabberjay and a mockingbird, something that was considered one of the Capitol's experimental failures. She wondered how Madge got a hold of something that was so… unique, but decided not to dwell on it too long as she pinned it to her dress, just above her heart.
She had rather fond memories of the creatures, remembering times when she, Katniss, and their father would go out to the meadow. She recalled times when her father would whistle a tune and sometimes even sing it, and the mockingjays would stop and really listen to him before singing back. Between her and her sister though, Katniss had the better voice, but Prim had been the one to continue the tradition of singing to the mockingjays.
Prim stepped out of her room just as Effie was about to call on her, and she followed the older woman to the dining room, where Peeta was already sitting.
As they sat to eat, with Effie taking the chair opposite Peeta and Prim sitting beside him, the conversation flowed and was based particularly on Haymitch's whereabouts. Peeta had mentioned seeing him earlier and Haymitch saying that he was going to take a nap, and Effie then commented about it having been a long day and then began to criticize the tributes from the previous year.
"The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a pair of savages. It completely upset my digestion."
Prim frowned behind her last bite of lamb. Her mother had taught her and Katniss to eat with a fork and a knife, and she understood that not everyone had that upbringing, but there was no reason to go about insulting or making fun of people because of it. The frown on her face didn't leave her for the rest of the meal, and had she looked at Peeta, she would have seen the same frown mirrored on his face.
When they finished, Prim and Peeta had trouble keeping their food down, but strived to do so even as they stood and left their current compartment to move to another to watch the reaping of the other districts.
Prim watched as the events progressed. She could see that despite having been reaped like the rest of them, the tributes of District One were obviously Careers. From District Two, a male volunteered, while a female was reaped. Everywhere else, people were reaped. But the one moment that really captured Prim's attention was that of District Eleven's. She watched with baited breath as a little girl that looked to be her age, or a year younger than her – at most – was drawn, and she couldn't help but cry for the little girl whom no one had volunteered for.
Peeta, seeing this, scooted closer to her and pulled her to his side, giving her the support she obviously and painfully needed. She gave the screen no mind as it showed the events at District 12, and just as the clip ended, the compartment door slid open to reveal an inebriated Haymitch. He stumbled in, mumbled a few incoherent words before vomiting and falling into his own mess.
Prim winced at the sight, but she stood before Haymitch could even utter another word. She and Peeta pulled him up, and she was glad that she had encountered patients in worse condition beforehand; else she would be vomiting too. Haymitch said something about tripping and Peeta took charge by telling Haymitch that they'll take him to his room.
They took him there and hauled him into the bathtub. After turning the shower on, Peeta turned to Prim, "I'll take it from here."
Prim paused in her unbuttoning of Haymitch's dress shirt. As sweet as it was that Peeta was offering to do things by himself, Prim shook her head with a small smile.
"I've got nothing to do and I've done this before." She said, continuing her task. "I don't mind getting dirty."
And so they went about cleaning their mentor.
She turned away when he was going to be relieved of his pants and undergarments though, and she wondered how someone can become so drunk that they had no idea what was going on around them.
When they finished, she cleaned the bathroom as Peeta went to deposit Haymitch on to the embroidered bedspread set up for him. Covered in an odd assortment of smells – vomit, bathing lotion, water, and even food – Peeta and Prim left Haymitch's room with a sigh.
"Thank you." Peeta said as they began to walk.
"You're welcome." Prim responded sweetly, a smile on her face that said she truly meant it. "You're the one that gave her the bread right?" She asked softly, causing Peeta to stop in his tracks. She hadn't realized that he stopped though, not until he spoke and she heard that his voice was farther than it had been.
"What?" He asked with a raised brow, confusion on his features and his eyes asking for answers.
"Katniss told me that one of the baker's sons gave her that loaf of bread a couple of years back." She explained, hands clasped together in front of her. "She didn't tell me which one, but I just pegged you as the nicest one." She smiled, gaze falling. "Can I know why you did it?"
Peeta's expression turned thoughtful, and his mind wandered back to the particular memory. He could still recall every detail as if it had just happened hours ago, and he looked at the girl before him. She was the complete opposite to her sister in every way, and Peeta understood that he might as well tell her something he, himself, had been keeping from everyone. What was the harm in befriending the one person he knew would be able to understand him in the new world they were about to embark on.
"I couldn't very well just leave your sister to starve, can I?" He asked, a goofy smile on his face as he attempted to lighten the mood, but the knowing look in Prim's eyes told him that she already knew the answer, and was just waiting for him to admit it out loud.
"It's not because you love her, then?" She asked cheekily, and once again, Peeta was struck by how opposite the Everdeen sisters were.
Where Katniss would probably have seen it as an act of kindness and nothing more, Prim had seen it for what it was – an act of kindness that hinted at something more. He loved Katniss Everdeen, and her younger sister had figured it all out. How sharp Prim must be underneath the innocent and naïve exterior.
"You're not the only one, you know." Prim said softly, eyes apologetic as she looked up to meet his gaze. He took a step forward, nodding. "Gale loves her too, and I'm sorry to say this, but I'm voting for Gale. As nice as you are, Peeta, Gale's the only one who can really handle my sister."
"I know." He said, and the defeat in his voice told Prim that he had known for a while now. "But that doesn't mean I can help what I feel." He said with a dry laugh. "Goodnight Prim."
"Goodnight, Peeta." She said with a nod, leaving to head to her bedroom.
Upon getting there, she slept as she was, too tired to do much more.
Waking up to a knock on the door and Effie's voice was not one of Prim's favorite moments, but she did as asked and stood from her bed. Looking down at herself and taking a whiff, she frowned at the odor and decided she would have another shower before heading to breakfast.
Dressing herself in an orange shirt and white skirt this time around, she fastened the pin on and braided her hair as she walked to the dining car.
Haymitch waved her over with a hand and a smile, saying in a rather clear voice, "Sit down! Sit down!" She slid into the seat by Peeta's side and her eyes widened as she was given an assortment of food. She looked around, and just like yesterday, she could see that all the food here would last her and her family a whole month already! Maybe even more if properly rationed. She looked at the different drinks; orange juice, coffee, and then something brown that she had never seen before.
"Hot chocolate," Peeta said by means of explanation. "It's good."
With just a sip, Prim was hooked. She drained the cup before giving the others any thought. And after doing so, she watched the others with interest. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business, and Prim took a roll of bread and broke it before putting a small piece into her mouth. There was no need to have a repeat of last night, after all.
She shyly watched Haymitch, wanting to ask him what he had to say, but too timid to actually do anything about it. She chewed, and Peeta spoke up, something Prim was grateful for.
"So, what do we do to win? What strategies or advice can you give us?" Peeta asked after having swallowed the last of his hot chocolate.
"Here's some advice; stay alive." Haymitch declared, before bursting out laughing. Prim frowned. That would do nothing to help them out. She placed some bacon into her mouth this time, and watched as Peeta went on.
"Very funny," said he, before lashing out and knocking Haymitch's glass out of his hand. It fell to the floor, shattering instantly. Prim's eyes went wide, and her jaw dropped as she watched things unfold. "Only not to us," finished Peeta with a glare.
Before Prim could do anything about it, Haymitch had reached over and punched Peeta across the jaw, sending Peeta down. And in an act of pure recklessness and adrenaline, as Haymitch reached over for some liquor, Prim slammed her knife down on the table, effectively wounding Haymitch's wrist. Just from the look of it though, Prim could see that it was not deep, and would heal with ease even if left untreated, so long as it was washed.
"Well, what's this?" asked Haymitch, surprise clear on his face. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"
Prim found herself blushing, unaware of whether to take his statement as a compliment or an insult. She stood to help Peeta stand when he shook his head, saying he was fine. Taking her napkin, Prim made an improvised ice pack quickly. She was about to place it against Peeta's jaw when Haymitch intervened.
"No, let the bruise show." He said, going on to explain how it would make Peeta look stronger and tougher. It would make the audience think that he had gotten into a brawl beforehand, and survived to tell the tale.
"Can you aim that knife and hit?" Haymitch asked, turning his attention to Prim. Flustered but wanting to prove herself to the man who had the power to help her live, she pulled the knife out of the wooden table. She took a deep breath in, and then hurled it across the room. She had hoped to get the knife to stick to the wooden board, but it instead sliced the thin rope that held the curtain together.
The rope fell apart causing the curtain to flow freely without its constraints.
It was a secret no one else knew.
Prim, whenever asked to gather plants, had been practicing to wield a weapon. She knew the basics of wielding a bow and arrow, but did not see it as her weapon of choice. She had opted to try out knives, and had the best opportunity to practice when her mother would send her out to gather herbs and berries. Some were peculiar and were found at the oddest of places and had to be gathered a certain way. One of which, grew only atop poisonous places. Her mother had taught her that throwing a knife and letting the herb fall to the floor before taking it would be the best way of avoiding the rash that came with coming into contact with the poison.
And so she had practiced. She strung vines and the like on one of the various trees that surrounded their house but was still within the district and practiced on that. And before she knew it, she could aim and hit with a slim chance of missing.
Haymitch asked them to stand, and he scrutinized them from head to toe, measuring them and sizing them up. "Well you're not entirely hopeless. Seems fit. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." Peeta and Prim stayed silent as Haymitch continued, "Alright, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly as I say."
Prim nodded immediately, not keen on arguing, as Peeta gruffly said, "Fine."
"So, first things first." He said. "We'll be pulling up at the train station in a few minutes. You will then be put into the hands of your stylist. You won't like what happens then, but don't resist. They're there to make you look better than you are." He then took a bottle of liquor and left Peeta and Prim to themselves.
"I forgot something in my compartment." Prim said suddenly, standing and getting up to leave.
"I'll come with you," offered Peeta as he stood. She smiled and nodded, walking out and heading for her room. She looked around and found what she was looking for on the bedside table. She took it in her hands and turned to Peeta, who was waiting for her by the door, looking around the room. She chuckled at his innocent expression before walking on over to him.
"Would you like some?" She asked, opening the white paper package to reveal Peeta's father's cookies. "Your father was kind enough to give me some for the trip." She said with a smile, and Peeta's eyes watered at the thought of his father, something that did not go unnoticed by Prim.
"T-thank you." He said, taking one and biting into it as Prim chewed on her own.
They walked back to the dining car just as it pulled out of the tunnel and the train began to slow, bright lights flooding the compartment. Having just finished their cookies, they took a drink of orange juice, and after doing so, they headed on over to the windows excitedly.
Breaths taken away by the magnificence that was the Capitol, Prim and Peeta smiled and waved at the literally colorful crowd that would be watching them as they battled to the death.
CATO
Everyone had known that at least one tribute would volunteer for the upcoming Hunger Games. What everyone didn't expect, however, was for the volunteer to be a sixteen year-old. Cato had volunteered without anyone pressuring him. He had done it for reasons other than the fame and fortune, though he would beg to differ when asked.
They went through the motions, with Cato being visited by his cousin, who was his age and looked almost like him sans his cousin's dark hair. His parents entered next, and very confidential words were exchanged between them that floated in and out of Cato's mind as he had gotten on to the train with his fellow tribute, Clove.
They knew each other from the academy, and had spoken to the other beforehand, with the age difference between them being only a couple of months – nearly a year – everyone thought they made a cute couple and a formidable team. They had tried that path before and were glad to have ended it on good terms. As compatible as they were, they couldn't last long with someone that was too similar to them.
After all the trivialities and formalities had finished, Cato, Clove, Brutus, Enobaria, and Lyme settled into a compartment to watch the reaping. Only a few stood out in their minds, the District One and Four tributes in particular, along with the giant of a man from Eleven. When it came to Twelve, though, everyone snorted and found the event amusing, though Cato was enthralled by a whole different reason.
His hazel eyes took in everything about the girl – her blonde hair that was down in two braids, her bright blue eyes were shining with tears; both shed and unshed, her pale skin, small stature, soft curves, and her small lips. He frowned when she and the boy tribute shook hands, and he hadn't even realized he had growled until Clove shoved him playfully.
"Have a crush on the boy, huh?" She joked, though the accusation in her eyes showed that she had an idea of what was going through Cato's mind. They may have been over and her feelings may have been nothing more than platonic, but going after someone so young was just wrong!
"Ha," said Brutus with a smirk. "I don't think you'll be getting any of that, lover boy. You'd have a better chance at fucking the little girl." Clove gaped at the tall man's words, disgusted at the thought of him or anyone else touching someone so innocent and young. To have encouraged it just made her want to throw up.
"Men," said Enobaria with a roll of her eyes. "The girl's cute; I wouldn't blame Cato if he did think she was pretty. Besides, we all know that Cato's straight, and very much into women." She added as an afterthought, "She kind of looks like an angel, don't you agree? All small and innocent with her blonde hair and blue eyes… she could be like that Johanna." She nodded, "Clever person, she was."
"Take her into the alliance." Lyme said, startling everyone in the room and ignoring Enobaria's words completely. Everyone's attention snapped to her, mouths open and closing like a fish. Cato raised a brow, eyes boring into the side of Lyme's face.
"And why would they do that?" Brutus snarled. "She'd be dead weight and slow them down, if anything." He stood up, and Cato followed his movements with his eyes. "Unless you think she is trying to pull a Johanna on us…?"
That made Cato's other brow rise. While he didn't believe in the girl trying to pull anything off, he did wonder why Lyme would want her on the alliance. His eyes darted from one occupant of the compartment to the other, following the conversation silently and taking everything in. He would speak if he could give something or make an input.
"Wait, I think I understand." Enobaria took the remote and pressed rewind, and everyone was grateful that they had the common sense to record the reaping. She paused upon reaching a particular frame – one where the two tributes from District 12 are shaking hands. She squinted at it, and everyone but Lyme did the same, wondering what the latter saw.
"A healer!" Clove then pointed out. She leaned forward, and Cato couldn't help but do the same. "Or at least someone that works with herbs…" She trailed off. "The colorings of her hands are different. When you work with herbs all the time, some of the toxins affect you and a different shade slowly covers whichever area is exposed to it the most. This could be stopped by an ointment, but it's obvious that they're poor, so she wouldn't have that resources."
"A great thing to have in the games," Cato remarked, a smirk on his face as he leaned back to rest more comfortably on the plush couch. He couldn't wait to meet the angel in person and see if she was as beautiful as the television made her out to be.
"Remember her name then." Brutus grunted, still annoyed. He saw no purpose in having a healer in a game where the objective was to kill. "And remember who told you to take her in… So you know who to blame when the time comes." He shook his head. "I can't believe you're doing this. This would be a big mistake. A huge – fucking – mistake."
"Primrose Everdeen." Lyme said, not paying any attention to Brutus' words at all, having grown accustomed to his rude ways. "District Twelve," She continued. "Fellow tribute is Peeta Mellark and has an older sister that wanted to volunteer for her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and can't be any taller than five-foot-two. That's all we know for now. We'll probably see her statistics when we get to the Capitol."
"Don't do anything unnecessary, Cato." Clove hissed at her fellow tribute. "I'll handle talking to her." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and propping her feet up on the coffee table. "We all know you'll probably end up either scaring or angering her."
"Or having her scream his name," Enobaria joked with a wink, making Cato chuckle and Clove glare. Brutus only let out a low rumble from his throat that could have passed for either gas or a chuckle, while Lyme's face stayed blank.
Cato had a feeling the 74th Hunger Games would be unforgettable – in more ways than one.
