Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine.
Down the Rabbit Hole, pt 2
Her father had encouraged her to make a visit and warn the Everdeens about the upcoming scores and tell them that, if questioned, to stick to the weak but plausible explanation they'd come up with for Katniss' proficiency with the bow.
"It's lucky she was so antisocial," her father had grimaced. "There won't be many people to counter any claims. And school records are a poor reflection of how well a person learns, so they can't make any fuss about those not showing any aptitude. Just make sure that Hawthorne boy is warned, he'd be the only other one beside her family that could bust up our fragile little façade."
Madge was carrying a basket of her latest picks when she heard her name. When she turned she found Peeta's brothers, Ryes and Emmer, trotting up behind her carrying a box a piece. They both had the same stocky look, yellow blonde hair, and blue eyes, but Madge had always found Ryes to be the more charming of the two. He was light-hearted and always tried to get a smile out of her whenever she ventured into the bakery. Emmer was the oldest and most somber, Madge often harbored suspicions that he had received a head injury from their witch of a mother during his infancy and that was the source of his melancholy.
She'd grown up with them, grown apart from them in recent years, but she still was fond of them and wished there had been something else she could have offered them aside from the hollow words of sorrow she'd left them with the day after the Reaping.
Ryes tosses an arm over her shoulder. "If it isn't our darling little Maggette. What brings you out on this dreadful afternoon?"
She arches an eyebrow. "Maggette? I'm a grub?"
"You're right, poor choice of words." Ryes waves it off. "But where are you going?"
She narrows her eyes at him briefly. "The Everdeens'."
He brightens again. "Wonderful. We'll join you."
Madge pauses mid step. "Why?"
Emmer gestures to the boxes. "Dad said to take them."
Still confused, but glad to have the company, Madge continues on, out of the Town and down to the Seam. They earn enough stares to keep Madge for a lifetime, and by the time they reach the Everdeens' she knows she's red in the face, but not from exhaustion.
She quickly raps on the door and is greeted once again by Prim, looking more drawn and pale than before.
"I come bearing gifts," she forces a smile for the girl, who sadly returns it before letting them in.
Ryes and Emmer look awkwardly around before Mrs. Everdeen shows them to the table where they deposit their boxes. Madge begins unloading her basket and deciding how she's going to warn the Everdeens when the front door opened once more and the Hawthorne family poured in.
"Madge!" Vick and Posy descend upon her, their words mixing together indistinguishably. Gale stays at the door, glaring menacingly at them while his other brother, Ronnie or Robbie or something with an 'R' looks confusedly on. Hazelle smiles brightly.
"It's good to see you again, dear."
"Likewise ma'am." Madge quickly waves between the Mellark brothers, "Erm, this is Emmer and Ryes Mellark, Peeta's brothers."
Gale rolls his eyes, but his mother smiles.
Mrs. Everdeen opens one of the boxes and gasps. "Oh boys, you really didn't have to."
They'd brought in one box several rolls and a loaf of bread and in the other a dozen or so iced-lemon cookies. Vick and Posy nearly threw themselves at them.
Emmer gives the thank-you a flat look. "Our dad wanted us to."
Ryes sighs. "You are a right little ray of sunshine, you know that?"
Prim and Mrs. Everdeen aren't fazed. Prim smiles brightly. "Thank you, and thank your father for us."
Emmer nods shortly and Ryes smiles tightly before glancing first to Gale and then to Madge. "We need to be getting back for dad." His brow creases in an uncharacteristically serious look, "You know…for…"
Madge nods rapidly. "Oh of course. No, you don't have to wait. I'm getting better at navigating." She flashes a would-be-winning smile.
They seem satisfied with her answer and bid their hasty goodbyes before leaving, receiving a nasty glare from Gale as they plod out the door.
The room is quiet for a few moments before Prim offers Vick and Posy a cookie apiece and they begin eating noisily. Madge bites her lip, unsure how to start what will undoubtedly be a very awkward conversation. When she's sure Posy is engrossed in her cookie, she looks down at the little silver pen her father gave her and clicks the button three times and watches the green and red lights flicker.
"What's-" Vick starts, but she shushes him with a finger to her mouth.
She looks back at the pen, waiting for it to finish and feeling the heavy weight of all the eyes on her. When the green light goes solid she presses her lips together and feels a measure of relief. She looks back at Vick and gives him a tense smile. "I had to check."
"Check what?" Gale has stridden across the room and is reaching for the pen which she stuffs down the front of her shirt. She's fairly certain he won't try to retrieve if from her there, at least not while his family is present.
Madge glances back and sees Posy is still occupied with her cookie and so mouths the word 'bugs'. Gale is momentarily baffled and his eyes slowly make their way around the room, as if the metallic listening devices will fall from the ceiling at his insistence.
He narrows his eyes at her. "Why?"
She swallows and edges to the sofa, urging the others to sit with her. It'll be easier to discuss without the little ears listening if they can speak low. Vick looks sulky, but he stays at the table with Posy and keeps her from wandering over to where the others are and Madge mental notes she needs to give him an abridged explanation as soon as she can.
Once they're all sitting she begins, voice low as she can.
"The Capitol is always listening, always watching. That's why I had to make sure they hadn't bugged the house. We'd all be in a lot of trouble if they heard what I'm about to tell you." She paused to make sure she had all their attention. "Mr. Abernathy called. He never calls."
Madge swallows her fear and presses on. "Anyway, when he called today he gave me a message. It was a code. He caught wind of Katniss' score somehow."
Prim goes even paler. "Was it bad?"
Madge shakes her head. "No, anything but. She," Madge snaps a look at the kids before continuing, "got an eleven."
Gale's brother's mouth drops.
"He called to warn us. So we could come up with an explanation."
"For what?" Gale leans forward, elbows to knees. "You're acting like this is some kind of tragedy."
"No," Madge frowns. "It's good for Katniss, well, not good, it makes her a target, but it gets her sponsors. It's not good, necessarily, for us." She begins wringing her hands. "She used a bow, we just know it. My dad thinks they'll be an inquiry. That they might think we're training kids to fight. It was a boon he found out. It gave us a little extra time to come up with an explanation."
She slumps dejectedly as she tells them about the flimsy story she and her father hastily put together. They look wary.
"How do we even know he has the right information?" Gale crosses his arms over his chest and watches her. She feels creeping anxiety inch up her neck at his look but holds her ground.
"He wouldn't have said anything if it weren't reliable." Madge glares back, "And he wouldn't have warned us if she didn't think it was a real threat." She straightened her skirt a little, "We'll know more after the official announcement. Dad said we'll know how much to worry then."
Prim's placed a hand over Gale's, as if keeping him from jumping up and pummeling Madge. She looks pained when she looks back at Madge, "How will he let you know?"
Madge doesn't want to discuss that but gives a small answer. "We have to watch a girl on for analysis, back for it I guess. Dad figures she'll get us the message that way. Mr. Abernathy said to watch for her anyway."
They all look puzzled by this bit of information.
"Analysis?" The 'R' brother looks to Gale curiously, but only receives a shrug for an answer.
Madge keeps her eyes on Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. "This is a very fine line we're toeing. The Capitol are a paranoid bunch. If they even think we're up to something, regardless of the reality, they'll come down on us."
"What'll they do? Starve us? Send us into unsafe working conditions?" Gale snorts.
"Whatever you think you know Gale, you don't. This," she gestures to the window, to the misery outside, "isn't the worst. Believe it or not, we're relatively lucky here in Twelve. Being ignored is the best of most possible worlds, whether you believe it or not."
If he'd heard even half the stories her father had told her of his childhood growing up in Ten…if he knew what had happened to his sisters, their children…if Gale Hawthorne knew even half of what went on outside of Twelve he would know what kind of fresh hell the Capitol could rain down on them.
But he didn't, and Madge knows this isn't the time nor place to knock him with a healthy dose of 'you-aren't-the-only-one-with-problems' directly to the face.
She wipes the sweat from her palms on her skirt. "Just watch. You'll see."
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When Katniss' bold '11' appeared Madge fought back the urge to shoot Gale a smug look.
"Well." Mrs. Everdeen stares blankly at the television which has moved on to a panel of former Gamemakers making conjectures about what the arena holds for the latest batch of Tributes. "What happens now?"
Madge takes a deep breath. She isn't sure she'll know what the message is when she hears or sees it. Beyond that even, she doesn't know what will happen once she does know.
After ten minutes with the Gamemaker panel they move on to an older man from District 1, a perennial analyst, a Victor from a Game so long ago Madge is certain there are only a handful who remember it. He's droning on, exhaling the wonders of the little horrors District 1 has unleashed upon Panem when a round of laughter bursts through the background.
"For the love of all things bright and shiny, Iridi, will you stop with the tongue bath?! We get it!" The camera swivels to a young woman, deep green hair and eyes, dressed in black and smiling wickedly at the man. "Mark my words though, Marble and Glower won't last more than a couple of days. They're pretty faces and little more. I'll be shocked if they have any skill sets at all. The only reason either one of them got a decent score is because they suffered wardrobe malfunctions during their private sessions."
"Their names are Marvel and Glimmer!" Iridi sputters.
"See? Games haven't even started and I've already forgotten their names!" Another round of laughter takes over. The woman, with her well practiced smile tacked onto her face, shrugs less than genuinely.
Madge gets down on her knees and leans in closer to the television and reads the name that has popped up under the woman's face. Phoebe Alameda, Victor-67th Hunger Games. Madge sucks in a breath and hears Prim's soft voice gently asking if she's okay, but she waves her arm to shush her and scoots closer to the screen.
This was the bird then.
She was laughing, swatting playfully at another Victor who wasn't Mentoring this year but was still required to make appearances. Madge remembered her from her Victory tour. She'd had deep blonde hair then, and a darkly cheerful demeanor. She hadn't been on for analysis for several years, though she'd been a call in guest the past few Games if Madge's memory served her right.
The other Victor, from the 60th Games, a dark haired, dark eyed man from District 4 named Anton DelMar, laughed with her, mockingly acting injured when she swung at him.
"Well now, all fun aside," the mediator chuckles as he tries to steer the wayward Victors back on topic. Somehow they'd begun discussing the latest development on a soap opera. "What are your picks for this year? Hmmm? Not either of the lovely pair from 1 I take it? But what about the duo from 2? Or the Capitol favorites, the brilliant pair from 12?"
Alameda's lips press together, she's got a twinkle in her eyes, that mischievous, clever glint that made her such a darling during her own games.
"Definitely not 1." DelMar grins.
"And I'll be a goat's aunt before I bet on anything from 2." Alameda snickers to herself and mumbles something about 'inbreeding'. "As for 12," she makes a thoughtful face, "Their entrance was more a credit to their stylists. Their scores are just numbers. I wait until the interview to make any assumptions about anyone."
"What about Johanna Mason? Her interview is seen as one of the greatest plays in the Games' history," the mediator has leaned forward and is watching the three closely.
"After the entrance those two made they'd have better luck joining the kids from 1,2 and 4 than making a play at being helpless. I may see scores as only numbers, but you better believe those kids don't. Those 12'ers have as well as got bulls-eyes on their backs after all this." She's still laughing with the man named Anton, but the glittering in her eyes has dulled some and she has the look Madge recognizes as biting back disgust flickering behind them. "Much as the little show with her sister, Plumrock or whatever, was cute, heart tugging, beautiful, whatever, she's still not my pick. Not yet anyways."
The mediator smiles with his blindingly white teeth, chuckling at the young woman. "So good to have you back, Phoebe!"
They began to discuss what each of the Tributes could have done to earn their scores. Phoebe and Anton slowly drag the conversation into silliness, discussing undergarments and dog food.
Madge sits back on her heels, certain that she understands what the green-haired woman was trying to tell her.
"We need to be careful. They're watching, they're annoyed but they aren't making any moves yet." Madge turns back from her spot on the floor. They're all watching her, waiting. She taps a finger on the screen. "They're waiting to see how the interviews go. I think that's what she means anyways."
Vick plops onto the floor beside her. "Thatwas who we were watching for?"
"She's not very, er…" Mrs. Hawthorne frowns deeply at the television.
"Nice. I think that's the word you're looking for. Nice." Madge gives a forced little chuckle. "She's playing her part, I think. Not much room for niceness."
Gale grunts as he glares at the now singing panel. "She could have been a little more helpful and a little less dismissive."
"She was helping." Madge grits her teeth. "She warned us didn't she? We at least know to prepare. We know what they'll be looking for, at."
"For all the good it'll do us," Gale spits back.
"Sometimes just knowing is half the battle, Gale." Madge runs her hand through her hair, pulling the ponytail out. "And she wasn't being dismissive, she was being…blunt. It was for the Capitol as much as it was for us. She had to say what she needed to say so that we, I, my father, whoever she meant the message for, could understand it but oblique enough that is still sounded like good old-fashioned inter-district mudslinging." She shakes her head, "Besides, she really doesn't care about 12's Tributes. She's from 10, didn't you see? They have two kids in the Games too. If she's pulling for anyone, it'll be them. There's no reason for her to help her other than Mr. Abernathy."
"Is that why she called Prim a 'Plumrock'?" Vick looks seriously concerned.
Madge wrinkles her nose, "No, that was just being bitchy."
##################################
After nearly an hour of 'discussion', which mostly amounted to Gale insulting Madge and questioning her deductive skills, the entirety of the Hawthorne and Everdeen family had the story down even Posy, for the most part.
Not that it was hard, but it was essential that they all be on the same page.
When she stands to leave, Vick is at her side, taking her hand and tugging her along.
"I'll take you home Madge. Girls shouldn't walk home in the dark by themselves."
"Neither should little boys," his mother tells him firmly.
Gale stands, looking annoyed and surly as ever, "I'll walk her home."
"I can still go," Vick tightens his grip on Madge's hand. "She's my friend, and you're rude to her."
Gale opens his mouth to protest, but his mother silences him with a look.
Prim and Mrs. Everdeen bid them goodbye and Madge finds herself using Vick as a human shield against his brother's dark looks.
"I don't remember that girl on the panel last year," the middle brother, whose name turned out to be Rory, begins slowly talking to her after a few minutes. How he talked his way into coming she doesn't know.
"No, she hasn't been televised for a few years. She was on the radio pieces a few times the past couple of Games, if my memory serves me right," Madge tells him. "She used to be on whenever she wasn't a Mentor or after her Tributes…well, you know."
"What happened?" Vick is trotting quickly to keep up.
Madge shrugs, "I don't know. She just disappeared. There's no telling."
"She's a Capitol person," Gale grumbles. "They aren't dependable."
"She's just a Victor. She isn't Capitol. She got us a message, so she can't be all that bad." Madge tells him flatly. She's tired of this discussion.
"She does have green hair," Vick interjects.
Madge's face darkens.
They walk on, Vick and Rory doing most of the talking.
When they reach her house the street lights have all come on, glowing dimly all around them. Her father is on the porch staring up at the stars sadly. He nods at them as they approach and smiles sadly before waving up to the sky.
"Ester would tell Flora and I they were holes in the floor of heaven when we were little. She knew all the constellations, all the stories …" His brow creases and he looks back to the ground.
Vick and Rory look to Madge in concern and she gives them a tight smile before jumping up the steps and giving him a quick, tiny hug. He pats her head. He backs away from her and steps down and then out to Gale, putting out his hand. "Thank you for seeing her home."
Gale's face scrunches up and Madge thinks he might not take her father's hand. After another moment's hesitation he grips the older man's hand firmly. "Not a problem, Mayor."
"No, I suppose not." He lowers his voice slightly, "I take it you and Madge had plenty to talk about?"
"Yes, sir," Gale stiffens and his brothers frown.
The mayor turns back to Madge. "You saw?"
Madge nods, of course she did.
"Mindlessly flirting," he chuckles. "A true Ten. And I think the green suits her." He winks at Madge, confusing her further.
"Are you drunk?" She sniffs the air. No alcohol that she can detect.
"I wish," he mumbles. "Damn lunatic sent me a letter."
He pulls out a crumpled paper with a handwritten message scrawled across it-I do enjoy a good game…
There's a glossy page, ripped out of a Capitol magazine with an advertisement for a nail polish line based off a popular program on the back. Madge turns it over and groans. It's a drinking game based around the Game Mentors. Someone has even taken the time to highlight parts they clearly find amusing.
"One drink for every drink Haymitch Abernathy takes on air…take one drink if Finnick Odair is shown shirtless…take a drink every time Johanna Mason is shown during her games…take two drinks if Bronze Phillips is arrested after his tributes die… take a drink if Anton DelMar is shown with a woman twice his age…take two drinks if Phoebe Alameda mentions the 'Pancake Incident'…finish your drink if Haymitch Abernathy falls down…" Madge presses her fingers to her eyes and hands the paper back to her father. "My god. They'll all die of alcohol poisoning if they play this. And Mr. Abernathy has already fallen down…"
"Good. Let 'em." Gale mutters just under his breath.
Rory grins at the paper. "Excellent!"
Madge sighs heavily and presses her fingers to her temples. She turns to Vick, Gale, and Rory and flashes a quick smile. "Thank you for walking me home. If I, uh, well, I'll talk to you soon."
They seem to understand that she needs to get in when her father pats her shoulder gently and waves them off gently. They walk away, Gale glancing back over his shoulder a couple of times more, curiously, before they disappear and Madge drops her false smile. She turns to her father.
"What else?"