So it seems that no one got my subtle hint at the end of the last chapter.

Oh well, you'll get it in the next one.


Mother paced the shop floor, her honey blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, her usually soft ocean blue eyes frantic with worry. And when Mother saw me her worry melted away into pure relief. Briefly. Then it morphed into a staggering amount of anger, hurt, and even a twinge of betrayal.

"What have you been up to?" Mother queried, at least attempting to sound civil as she continued to pace.

Hesitating, I pulled out the bag of blackberries. Rubus, who really had no idea what was going on, shouted happily at the sight of food. Then again, I think Rubus just shouted at food in general. Ever since the little guy could make sound he unfailingly made a big fuss over anything edible.

Opening the bag I handed a single, plump, blackberry to my favorite little brother. Grabbing one for myself I knelt down to Rubus' level and smiled. On the untold count of three we gently placed the fruit on our tongues and smashed them against the top of our mouths. At first my little brother's cute little face puckered. Then it lit up like the warm, happy glow of the candlelight I would tell stories to him in.

Mother wasn't so impressed, "You could have been killed."

I pulled out a root from my pocket, "We won't always have to go back."

"We?"

"Haymitch!" Rubus smiled innocently, "She and Haymitch got blackberries!"

Knowing the inevitable fight my Mother and I were going to get into, I handed Rubus a big handful blackberries, "Go share these with Boreas and Poplin."

As soon as he disappeared Mother gave me a blood chilling stare and I knew I deserved that much, "Taking out tesserae wasn't enough danger for you?"

I stayed silent and met her icy glare.

"Hanging out in the Seam around thieves wasn't enough danger for you?"

I continued my reticence.

"Now you have to go outside the fence to get your thrills with that… boy?"

Over the years I learned how to deal with my Mother's occasionally bad temper. All I had to do was keep quiet until she had said whatever was on her chest, and then it was quite easy to reason with her. It was just about time to make my move.

"Why do you keep making decisions that take you away from me?"

Now I responded, "All my decisions are to keep us together; each and every one of us."

Mother leaned against the shop counter, staring at the smooth wooden surface, "But why did you decide this? Anything is better than Outside, Titania. I have been fairly reasonable about you making your own decisions, but I will not tolerate you doing… this."

Walking over I put the root in front of her, "That is why I wanted this. One day we won't have to go Outside to get something so silly as blackberries."

Deep in my heart I knew that these little fruits could right at this moment be making all the difference in my and Haymitch's families survival, and I knew they weren't silly. That's just what Mother needed to hear. At this point I would have argued that the cow risked jumping over the moon to reach the greener grass available to him afterwards. That would have gone over well.

"You know I don't like this." Mother finally acquiesced, "Go and gather more, but only until we have our own garden growing."

Hugging her across the counter I then bounded upstairs, nearly bowling over my little brothers. Big purplish stains covered their mouths, cheeks, and fingers in sweet sticky goodness. The three unanimously agreed I was the 'best sister in Panem'. Who knew it was so easy?

Considering it lasted about five more minutes before Mother told us all to clean up for the Reaping and I agreed with her— only two hours remained until all potential tributes had to start checking in— I guess it was harder than my little brothers let on.

While Mother set to work on scrubbing down ten year old Poplin, I worked on little Rubus. As long as I was the one cleaning him up, Rubus was a completely well behaved little angel. When anyone else tried he just stood stock still and bawled about never seeing me again. You could say he was a tad worried about me.

"Beautiful boy, what do I always tell you?" I asked him, knowing that he knew the answer by heart.

"I am smart, I am kind, and I am capable." Rubus grinned in triumph.

I nodded, my throat tightening a touch because of what I had to say next, "Rubus?"

He waited for me to continue.

"You know that I could go to the Capitol." I almost stopped; how could I burden my seven year old brother with this?

"I know."

"Boreas too."

"Mm-hmm." Rubus confirmed as I scrubbed the black stains around his mouth.

"If I get picked, will you tell Boreas that I want him to work with Haymitch?"

Rubus started tearing up, "You said you wouldn't get picked!"

Quickly I nodded, "There is always an itsy-bitsy chance— you know that."

Now I started combing Rubus' blonde hair; which stood straight up at all times unless wet.

"Don't go."

There was no reasoning with my youngest brother on this subject. Whereas reality taught us that anyone who refused the Capitol was signing their and their family's death certificates. All tributes had to go to the Capitol to be dolled up, trained hard, and then pitted against each other until only one remained. That tribute would win extra food for their District for a single year, but would live in a special and luxurious Victor's house and receive more than enough money to thrive off of until the day they died.

In Rubus' mind I was the exception. To him I could refuse and just stay home. Life would go on as normal with Haymitch and I sneaking around trying to lessen the backbreaking responsibilities of our parents. Mother would get mad at me. Nothing would change.

So I appeased him by saying, "I won't."

Once Rubus was scrubbed clean, Mother told him to go get dressed so I could clean myself up. Which hurt like getting stung by a hive of wasps; all of the blackberry stabs throbbed and stung on contact with the soap. Dirt scrubbed from my skin easily once I took the stiff bathing brush to it. Feeling entirely raw but clean, I went to my room and changed into a pale pink dress Mother had sown together herself just for Reaping day.

The light cotton fabric hugged what little curves my fourteen year old body had. White lace framed the midsection but was barely visible against the paleness of the dress. When I finished smoothing it out Mother went to work on my blonde tresses. Soon a golden braid circled my head like a crown while the rest of my wavy hair fell down past my shoulder blades.

"Now I look like a Victor too."

Mother appraised me with a worried smile, "You aren't planning on… volunteering are you?"

Our gazes met instantly but only for a brief moment before mine returned to the mirror, "I'm not crazy Mom."

She heaved a sigh of relief, "Good."

"There are very few things in this world that could make me want to volunteer."

We both knew so they remained unspoken. If one of the boys grew extremely ill I'd do it. Losing the shop would be one of those things as well. If one of my parents died… I would take the place of the unlucky girl who got picked. All of those things boiled down to one truth: I would do what it took to take care of my family.


Caeli Quaedem: How do I feel about Haysilee? Personally I felt that given time the two could have been either really good friends or a cute couple. I have a question for you though- how do you feel about Haysilee with Titania thrown into the mix? She's going to end up being their mentor for the Quell after all.

lala1366: That's good! I'm just worried how my Haymitch will effect yours and vice versa. I read your story and as soon as you mentioned Haymitch's younger brother's name was Tarragon I wanted to use it. I'm not going to but it's like an itch I can't quite scratch.