A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. They really do mean a lot to a writer. It's great to know what people like or not.
I won't get to the interviews in this chapter because FortuneFaded2012 reminded me about the scores! How could I forget that! So blame him/her for the delay ;-)
Madge returned to the room very late that night after rushing to Emi's aid. The fourteen-year-old had a bruised hip and couldn't walk very well. As Rue had said, no one cared about the weaker tributes. Madge and Emi hobbled to the medical wing across the training center from where they were.
The young girl was terrified. As the night went on, Madge discovered she had been even more sheltered than Madge. Her parents were famous weapons' manufacturers, but that obviously didn't help her avoid the reaping.
When Madge finally came back into the darkened suite, Haymitch was up and screamed as soon as she stepped in. Effie came rushing down the corridor also scolding Madge for caring about another tribute.
"Before I die," Madge shouted. "I'd like to know what it's like to have friends. I never had any back home."
"It's going to tear you apart when they die," Haymitch shouted back.
"Maybe I'll die before them," Madge screamed. "There is nothing you or anyone else can do to make me stop caring about them." This friendship with the other tributes was something so foreign to anyone that Madge realized it was her final act of rebellion. No matter what the Capitol would do to her and her band of friends, they couldn't stop the friendship from forming. They might die gruesome deaths but these four days of companionship couldn't be wiped clean. She turned and went to her room with a smile.
It faded when she saw a sleepy Gale standing outside his room. He wore a tight grey t-shirt that accentuated the muscles in his shoulders and arms. His grey eyes blinked away the sleep. Madge couldn't help but notice that his hair was in a tousled mess. For a second, she moved toward him to smooth it out.
"You're awfully loud for such a quiet person," Gale stated, running his hand through his hair.
The corridor was dim, so Madge couldn't tell if he was joking. She huffed and went into her room without a look back.
The next two days flew by. Madge and her band of friends had to work with weapons. Some of her friends were pretty good with certain weapons: Rue with a sling shot, Flora with axes and Levi with a spear or trident. The others were varying degrees of hopeless with Madge and Emi being the worst. Having no upper body strength meant the Mayor's daughter couldn't draw a bow back, throw a knife or spear to impale into anything or toss anything heavier than a small rock. The only defense Madge could muster was to set up traps and pray people fell into them.
Since her outburst at Haymitch, she rushed to her room as soon as she got back. She emerged only for dinner. Gale made a point of sitting next to her and seemed to take a new interest in talking with Haymitch. Their mentor did nothing but glare at Madge. He seemed to take personal offense to what she was doing with the other tributes.
The only time he showed her any courtesy was when she said she met the mentors of Emi in the infirmary.
"Nuts and Volts," he said.
"What?"
"She's Nuts and he's Volts," Haymitch chuckled.
Madge thought Wiress and Beetee were odd, but she didn't think they were crazy. The little she knew about District 3 made her believe everyone there was brilliant to come up with all the devices they made. Maybe genius and insanity go hand in hand.
The next day was preparations for the individual sessions with the Gamemakers that would occur first thing on Friday. The scores would be announced shortly afterwards and then they would prepare for the interviews in the evening.
Haymitch was talking with Gale about his angle. This didn't sit well with black-and-white Gale Hawthorne. He didn't want to have an angle. Madge knew if he had his way, he'd probably spout off his hatred of the Capitol.
Haymitch continued to ignore Madge, which was fine with her. She didn't need an angle either. Madge would charm Caesar with tales of Daddy the Mayor and life in the pretty hills over the coalmines. It wouldn't be total lies. Although she'd never been in the woods, she stared at them out her window every day. On a few occasions she even made it to the fence to stare at them, beckoning her like a cool breeze on a hot day. Too bad I'll never get to set foot in them.
Madge sat between Gale and Thresh as she waited to go in to her private session with the Gamemakers. She truly had no idea what she was going to do. Her hands were pulling desperately at the end of her braid and her left leg was bouncing up and down.
A large hand landed on her knee and made her jump. Her eyes widened as she saw that the hand was attached to Gale Hawthorne.
"Madge, relax. You're making me nervous." He lifted his hand after he spoke and looked off into the distance.
Thresh was called, so the big tribute from 11 got up and headed into the training room. Everyone went in but didn't come out, so Madge assumed they went back to the tower by a new route. I hope I don't get lost.
"Just run around, jump, climb and build a couple of snares," Gale said.
Madge wanted to protest that those skills wouldn't impress anyone, but the words died in her throat. Gale's grey eyes were boring into her. They were open wide and she noticed that in the light shades of light blue and green could be seen mixed with the grey. She found herself totally entranced.
"Madge," he whispered.
"Hmm?" she mumbled, unable to look away from the handsome man and his intoxicating gaze.
"Time to go. They called your name." Gale's eyes lightened and a smirk spread over his face.
"Go?"
"Madge Undersee. District 12," a male voice called over a speaker.
"Oh!" She shot up from her seat and turned toward the door.
A rough, warm hand captured hers and squeezed. Her gaze dropped to Gale's large hand as he let go of her much smaller one.
"Go before they come and get you. I'm sure that's not a good thing," Gale said, nodding toward the door.
"Right." She walked quickly away before she found herself kissing him once again. It has to be because I'm so close to the end. If he'd been this nice to me in 12, I'd probably have joined him behind the slag heap for whatever amazing things he did with the other girls back there.
Madge sat on the sofa, fighting off tears. She'd never failed so miserably at a test in her life. When she came back, she went to her room and didn't come out until Effie and Cinna made her. Because she had to get ready for the interview, Cinna and Portia were there for lunch and to watch the scores come in.
She barely ate, refused to even look at Gale or Haymitch and even avoided talking to Cinna, who she genuinely liked.
It was time for the scoring so everyone was going to be sitting on the couches in front of the TV. Madge grabbed a corner and huddled into it.
"Madge," Gale said as he sat next to her. "What happened?"
"I failed," she whined and covered her face with her hands. "My snare didn't work and I tripped when I ran. I'll be lucky to get a two." She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll have the lowest score ever."
"Madge, who gives a hell what your score is." Gale was furious.
She looked up at him where he sat inches from her. The competitive student in her had taken over. She shook her head and let out a long sigh. "You're right. I know how to set a snare and run. I've always been a good student. Any test makes me want to do my best." Madge offered a weak smile. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Gale's anger passed as quickly as it came. A soft smile spread over his features, but quickly disappeared when Haymitch and the others came in.
Caesar Flickman and Claudius Templesmith came on the screen and showed the scores for each tribute. The Careers got nines or tens, the boy from three got a five and then Emi got…
"An eight?" Madge gasped. "How did Emi get an eight?"
"Looks like your little invalid was holding back on you," Haymitch stated as he took a drink.
Madge was shocked. The frightened little girl whose hand she held in the infirmary got a high score. The girl from four got a nine and then little Levi's face showed up. He also got an eight.
Scores of eight or higher were considered very good. The Careers always knocked off the high scoring competition and then went after the weaker ones before they turned on each other. That was always their strategy.
"Levi is very good with a trident and spear from his years of fishing," Madge said. A sickening feeling was setting up in her stomach, but she ignored it for the time being.
By the time the scoring reached Rue and Thresh, every one of Madge's friends got an eight. When an eight flashed up for Rue, tears filled Madge's eyes. She glanced at Haymitch who was kitty-cornered from her on an adjoining sofa. His face was a stone mask until his eyes met hers.
"Madge Undersee, District 12, gets an eight."
Madge felt her vision blur. Gale got an eleven, but she couldn't look away from Haymitch. Understanding then pain filled his eyes. He lifted a drink and then got up.
"This is astounding," Caesar said on the TV as Effie clapped and cheered. "This many eights. I don't think we've ever had this competitive of a playing field."
"And two elevens from District 11 and 12," Claudius added gleefully. "I can't wait for these Games to begin tomorrow."
Madge jumped out of her seat and raced to her room. Every member of her group got an eight. Every one of her friends was put in the sights of the Careers. All my fault! Sobs wracked her body as she realized the Capitol could punish them for being friends.
Arms slid around Madge and pulled her off the floor in her room. She smelled liquor but didn't turn away.
"I tried to tell you," Haymitch said quietly. He leaned close to her. "I'm so sorry, Maysi… Um, Madge."
Madge didn't stop crying to correct him.
EARLIER THAT AFTERNOON
Seneca Crane was surprised he was called to the President's mansion after the individual sessions were complete. It was always the practice to let the Gamemakers enjoy a meal and some drinks before they sent the scores over to Flickman and Templesmith. Why the President would call the head Gamemaker to his residence before the scoring was… troubling to Seneca.
He was led into the President's rose garden, which occupied several acres of the mansion's grounds. The potent smell of the flowers nearly overpowered him.
"Mister Crane," the president greeted him. "I know you are busy, but I had to speak to you in person."
"Of course, Mister President," Crane replied and bowed his head to the leader of Panem.
"I need you to ensure that the tribute from 12, Madge Undersee, dies quickly in the Game." President Snow clipped a rose bud off a bush nearby.
"She's not a very strong…"
"She is the strongest tribute we've had in decades," the president growled. "No one has ever united weak tributes. The masses think it's sweet what she's doing."
Seneca wasn't sure why his leader was upset about a bunch of irrelevant tributes sitting together for meals or training together. Didn't the strongest tributes do that all the time?
"I need them all dead. Quickly. Do I make myself clear?" His darkening blue eyes zeroed in on Seneca's own blue eyes.
"We have some big challenges…"
"I don't care about challenges. They all need to die quickly and preferably by other tributes. That always sits better with the crowds than when your creations kill them." Snow clipped the head off the rose in his hand.
"I'll do my best." Seneca had been head Gamemaker for three Hunger Games with this as his fourth. He'd never had the President tell him how to run the Games before. Why did those weaklings scare the most powerful man in the entire world?
"No," Snow snapped. He pulled himself to his full height and glared. "You'll do it. Whatever it takes to ensure they die grisly deaths."
"Of course, sir." Crane nodded and scurried away, glad to be leaving. He didn't dare attempt to understand why Snow wanted the petite girl from 12 dead, but he'd follow his orders.
TBC
A/N: I had to show some Crane/Snow, something I really enjoyed seeing in the movie. And casting Donald Sutherland just has me channeling all the evil characters he's ever played into Snow.
