Author's Note: So, I know I haven't updated in awhile. This just sort of came to me and the ending for this chapter was a surprise to me as much as it is to you. So let me know what you think. Enjoy!


7

Dinner is a quiet affair. However, I still silently fume as I eat. I feel Dad stare at me willing me to say something, but I won't. I usually enjoy the times that I have with him to eat dinner. Tonight is not that case.

I clear our plates and place them in the sink. I'll wash them later. I give Dad a look as I bite the inside of my cheek. He knows how I feel. And this time, I wish that my feelings weren't worn upon my sleeve. It's all in my eyes Dad told me once. They are the window to the soul and mine are deep almost bottomless.

My piano awaits me. So does the monotony of homework, but my fingers twitch more for this than for that.

The dissonance of the blacks and whites somehow soothes me more than annoys me. But eventually, I flesh it all out into a piece that could be my downfall if ever discovered. Sure it sounds pretty, but the words are worse than the vilest of medicines.

It must be hours before my fingers cramp and I hear the floorboards creak. I look up expecting to see Dad or maybe even Mom, but it's not either of them. I feel the color drain from my face as I see the white of the Peacekeeper uniform.

"Don't stop on my account," Darius says. He leans against the doorframe and props up his foot.

I gulp before saying, "Are you here to arrest me?"

His eyes widen as if the thought never crossed his mind. I mean, it crosses mine everyday. My greatest fear is not death up becoming an Avox or having the revolution never exceeding.

"Your father asked me to watch you," he tells me.

I push off from my stool and walk halfway towards him. Darius looks at me with the same sparkle in his eyes I saw just days ago. How can anyone have that when people are starving everyday? I sigh.

"I won't stand on the platform," I inform him.

"That's fine," he says, nodding, "but you still have to watch the opening ceremony like the rest of us." Darius motions for me to follow him like I'm some trainee Peacekeeper learning my duties. I want to complain, but I don't. I want to scream. But I won't.

We reach the edge of the Justice Building when I figure out something is up. We should stay put. In the crowd. In the back. But Darius just keeps going behind the building. I pause, and he must sense it because he turns around and still motions for me to follow him.

I grit my teeth. I must be stupid and crazy for following a Peacekeeper that I don't know is on my side or not. We climb the fire escape to the roof of the Justice Building. In silence.

And from up here, I can see the sadness of our district. But, I also see the beauty in Twelve. I've seen images of the other districts and they live their lives so differently than ours. Ours is based on something long before Panem was created. Around an entity that everyone needed-coal. I've never been told this, but I can guess that our district was one of the original places in North America to have settlements.

They had towns as small as ours. With people that knew everyone. Of the nearly five hundred of us, I can name every person including several generations back. It was one of the few things I enjoyed learning in my training with Dad.

But it still pains me to watch them die everyday. And I can't do anything really about it because the power isn't in my hands.

I feel Darius stare at me as we watch the opening ceremony. Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are commentating on it. Wondering what the stylists have come up with this year. And I wonder that too.

I push their drivel from my mind as I turn to Darius. I take a deep breath. No time for wondering.

"Do you know what was supposed to happen at the Reaping?" I ask him.

His shoulders tense for a moment then he replies, "Yes."

My fingers flex. He doesn't notice the motion. I lean into him closer so we're almost nose to nose. "Tell me," I say.

"Margaret Undersee was supposed to volunteer,"Darius says.

The corners of my mouth lift. My hand touches his gun holster.

"And my name is?"

"Duchess."

"And where is the Duke?"

"Silent in the Capitol."

The spark finally leaves his eyes as I lean back and notch his gun easily back in its place. There is sweat on his brow and it's not from the heat. He was worried.

I face the screen again as I still see Flickerman comparing past reapings and ceremonies.

"When were you recruited?" I ask him because this is something I don't know about him.

"Six months ago," he says easily.

"And now?..."

"Now," he sighs as he looks at the screen as well. "Now, I'm the Mayor's personal guard."

"Well that's a lie if I've ever heard one."

He laughs. "Unofficially, I'm to keep an eye on you."

I roll my eyes as the chariots start coming towards Snow's mansion.

"I guess you'll be very bored then," I say with a slight smile.

"Wasn't too bored when I saw Hawthorne and you by the distillery."

My smile drops. I was alert that entire time and I didn't even notice him. Not once. Damn that Hawthorne.

"Shame you didn't interfere," is what I say instead.

"Looked like you handled yourself just fine."

"I'm not weak."

"I know."

"I can do-"

"I know Madge." He squeezes my right hand. "Now watch the ceremony."

I do and not because Darius tells me too. I want to know what Katniss and Peeta will look like. And they don't disappoint. They're even holding hands. Coal in fire. And how you can hear the Capitol cheers mingling with Twelve's. My face is white and my hands drop from the building ledge. They have a target literally painted on their backs. Fire? What the hell was Haymitch and everyone thinking?

The whistle to my right catches me off guard. Darius's smile is wide. He sees something I don't. And that I certainly don't like.

I am hardly ever out of the loop.

I know most things before anyone hears a whisper about it.

And it worries me that I don't feel this instant connection in Twelve. My home. Darius feels it and he's born and bred in the Capitol.

People migrate slowly from the square. The lights stay on longer than necessary. A mandate probably ordered by my father. And by the time Darius and I leave the roof, only a handful of people remain.

Mostly, are those that are placing bets in the ledger. Slade Thompson is Twelve's bookie. Everyone knows this, yet he's never been caught. Not even once.

I turn towards him, and Darius tries to pull me back but I don't let him. I'm drawn to this. I've never placed a bet in my life, but now I need too. Everyone looks at me as I walk past. Not one of them is a Merchant. Two are Peacekeepers off duty and I even see Gale Hawthorne and his friends within hearing distance. I want to smile. But now is not the time.

There's a gleam in Slade's eye that tells me that he believes I'm an easy target. And for his sake, I hope I am. I place my hand in his to shake, but he lifts it to his lips to kiss all the while keeping eye contact. He expects me to shiver, jump, or seem repulsed. I don't even though I am just a bit.

"Miss Undersee," he says. "What brings you here?"

"You are taking bets are you not?"

He looks surprised that I know this, but he recovers. "Bets? What bets?"

I internally roll my eyes. "The ones in your ledger. Or am I mistaken that the Slade Thompson doesn't keep in the black?"

His eyes harden a bit as the men around laugh.

"Let 'er place a bet," one says.

"Easy money," says another.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Undersee?"

The last makes my spine stiffen. Gale Hawthorne wasn't supposed to speak.

I turn to him. "Placing a bet. Isn't that why you're here?"

"No," he says gruffly. "And neither are you." He pulls at my arm. I ground my heels in just as Darius comes up. Gale lets go with a look from Darius but he still says, "You shouldn't be here. It's late."

"I can take care of myself," I say. I turn back to Slade. "As for the ledger, when is betting closing?"

"Morning before launch."

I smile big. "Good. I'll place mine now then."

He nods and opens up the ledger and is at ease with the situation. He shouldn't be. He poises his pen and looks up at me for this go-on gesture.

"Name," Slade says.

I smile wider. "Maysilee Donner. Oh and two e's on Maysilee." His hand trembles. He didn't think I knew about not using your real name. "I hope you write small because this is a little lengthy." He grunts. "One hundred coins on Peeta Mellark making it to the final eight." Everyone stops to listen to me. I mean every little side conversation is over once I mentioned one hundred coins. They'll just go gobsmack over this. "Two hundred fifty on Katniss Everdeen becoming a Victor of the Hunger Games." Slade's pen falters.

"Madge," Darius says in warning. But I don't listen. I need this. I know Thompson is a sometimes informer, but I know he won't pass up this bet.

I hold out my hand for the book to sign and make sure he wrote everything I said verbatim. I hand it back and shake his hand.

"A pleasure Mr. Thompson," I say. He gives me a light smile and turns away. "Oh and one more thing," I add. Slade and his friends stop in their tracks. "If anyone places a bet like mine...double it."

"Of course." I hear and he strides away.

"I'm taking you home," I hear Darius say.

"No," I say going out of his reach. "I fancy a walk." I turn to Bristel Taylor, Gale's friend, and say, "You'll do." I grab his arm and he seems stunned.

"Madge," Darius warns.

"Tell my father that I'm done."

"The Mayor won't-"

"Or don't. He doesn't tell me anything anymore anyways," I say. I turn to Bristel. "So, do you know where the slag heap is or do I have to drag you?"

Bristel's smirk is practiced as he leads me towards the Seam. Like he knows how to woo a girl. And I hope he does. It's darker in the Seam. I'm not use to it. But I find I like it. The dark is peaceful.

"So, why do you…" starts Bristel.

"No talking," I tell him. "I didn't come here to find out if you like school or how often you visit." I gesture around us. He smirks and pushes me towards an upright wooden beam. As my back hits it, he leans in. I breathe him in. The coal. His warm. My eyes close. I sigh.

And suddenly, he's gone. A chill runs down my spine and my eyes snap open. I hear flesh hitting flesh. My jaw drops open. I'm too shocked to say anything.

"What the hell Hawthorne?!" says Bristel glaring at Gale as he nurses his jaw.

"Leave her alone," he says as he stares at me.

I finally find my voice. "I came willingly and besides, what's it to you?"

"Yeah," Bristel agrees. "She came with me all on her own."

"Shut it," Gale says turning to him. "I know how you treat girls. And if I see you with her again, I'll do more than just bruise your jaw." Bristel gulps, looks at me once more, then walks away rather fast.

I see the tension leave Gale's shoulders before he looks my way.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Well, that just ruins my plans of being ravished in the outdoors."

Gale flexes his fist. "Bristel couldn't ravage you if he wanted to."

I smile. "Now there's my knight. But are you dark or are you white?"

I turn on my heels and head back towards town. I walk along the fence touching it without a care. It's not on. It hardly ever is.

My hand is yanked back, and I know exactly who's followed me.