10: Arrival

Katniss POV

Haymitch? I thought it would be Gale, no I was almost sure it would be Gale. Tears are forming at the corners of my eyes as what happened sinks in. I won't have to kill Gale. The reaping was not biased. There is a possibility that we can both get out alive. After the euphoria wears off though, I am left wondering why Snow would do this. He's a very careful man and as much as I hate to admit it, he's clever. Too clever to leave something like this to chance. But why?

Maybe it was his intention that Haymitch would be reaped. It seems more likely that he has a plan that involves Haymitch rather than that he left one of the most important factors of his plan to a fifty-fifty chance. My mind is racing, trying to figure out any motivations he could have. Is he going to have the games themselves reaped so that I die, but let's Gale live so that he won't make us martyrs. After all, it isn't Gale or I that are really important to the rebellion. It's what we symbolise. We are the spark that gives people hope. If he kills me and removes Gale's hope without making us martyrs then it will work perfectly.

But Gale isn't the type of person who would just sit back and be heartbroken if I die. Peeta maybe, but not Gale. Gale would do everything he could to get revenge and he would get support as well. Maybe not as much support as if we were together, but the rebellion would get a lot more support than if we both die. Maybe Snow didn't realise the type of person Gale is. It seems unlikely though. Gale isn't exactly secret in his hatred for the Capitol and want of vengeance to anyone that hurts me.

Haymitch walks up to the stage. He has a straight face, but I can tell that he is surprised by what happened. He didn't throw himself into training like Gale and I did, he didn't expect that he would be reaped. The crowd in District 12 are cheering. Not the normal, half-hearted applause that they normally give because they aren't allowed not to. They are actually happy. It's not just because they didn't get reaped, there was no chance of it happening this year. They are happy that Haymitch got reaped, not Gale.

Then it hits me. That's why Snow chose Haymitch and not Gale. Popularity. Almost everyone in Panem is rooting for us, even the Capitolites. Snow wants to appear the good guy by letting our relationship have a chance, as if he didn't want us to die. It wouldn't surprise me if he even let's out that he rigged the reaping so the Haymitch will be picked. So Snow doesn't want to kill both of us. He wants to use us, use us to bring support back to him. The idea makes me feel sick.

The Capitol peacekeepers that came with Effie lead Haymitch and into separate rooms in the Justice Building for our visits. It all brings back the painful memories of exactly one year ago. I'm not sure what was worse. Then I was only expecting to fight for my life. This time I have to fight for the whole of Panem. At least Gale is out of the danger zone. I will have him watching me from outside the area, sending me what I need. I'm sure I'll have a lot of sponsors.

My first visit is (predictably) Gale. I can see the relief on his face, though it is mixed with worry for me. "They didn't reap you for popularity," I blurt out.

"What?" Gale asks.

"Popularity," I repeat. "To get people on their side because people will think that they are on our side, that Snow wants us to win. He's trying to deny the fact that he's on a different side to us."

"But who would be stupid enough to think that we are on the same side?" Gale asks me. "The Capitolites," he answers his own question. "They don't know how we live in the Districts, all they see are the victory parties and the reapings and whatever else Snow let's them see. And Districts 1 and 2 are the Capitol's favourites."

"Precisely. Look, we need a plan," I say. "I've been thinking about the other victors of the rebellion, but most of them have probably been reaped as well. Once I'm in the Games then it shouldn't be too hard to stir up rebellion. And in the interviews it should be easy as well. I doubt there's much you can do from inside the mentor room though."

"There will probably be some rebellion victors that haven't been reaped," I protest. "I mean, most victors that aren't career will probably be part of the rebellion. And there will probably be some District 4 victors that are part of the rebellion too. And Haymitch told me that he has friends who are helping set the rebellion up. He may have meant other victors but he probably also has some spies in the Capitol."

I nod. I hadn't thought much about who Haymitch meant when he said the rebellion, assuming that he just meant the other victors and possibly some people in other districts. Now that Gale has mentioned it though, there could easily be a network of people in the Capitol. Peacekeepers, people who work for Snow, our stylists perhaps and maybe even some gamemakers. I wonder what happened to Seneca Crane after we saved him. Maybe he is part of the rebellion now. He may not be a gamemaker anymore, but I bet that he has a lot of connections that would be useful to us.

The peacekeepers come into the room with my family and take Gale out. The visits that they allow are very short, too short considering that it is likely that this might be the last time that I see my family. Prim and my mother aren't crying like last time, but this time we were prepared for it and Prim is older.

"I brought you your mockingjay pin Katniss," Prim says to me. "Stay safe. You told me last year that you would come out alive, for me. And you did. You can do it again." Prim pushes the golden pin into my hand and I pin it onto my top. It's been a long time since I've worn the pin and seeing it again reminds me of my first games.

"I'll try Prim," I respond. "But you know that it might not be possible." It feels wrong to say this to Prim. I'm still thinking of her as the innocent twelve year old she was last year, before all of this. But she isn't, not anymore. She watched me through the Games, I remind myself. She saw the man in Eight get shot. She took care of Melanie after she was whipped. Prim isn't the same girl she was last year because of what I've done. Better than her having to go through the Games herself though. Better than her being dead.

"I understand," she says. "I don't want you to lose, but I know that it's a possibility. I'm not stupid and optimistic anymore." Her words hurt me. Stupid and optimistic. A thirteen year old shouldn't be thinking that optimism is stupidity or calmly accepting that the death of her sister is a possibility. It tore me apart seeing Prim crying over me leaving last year, but this is even worse. This resignation to my fate, this hopelessness.

"Optimism isn't stupidity," I tell her. "Not unless it interferes with what you have to do. But you don't have to do anything for the rebellion. I will take care of everything. If I get out of the Games alive then it will all be OK. Trust me. You're only thirteen, you shouldn't have to go through all of this."

"Optimism isn't the truth," Prim says. "And if you get out of the Games alive there will be war." Gale and I have talked about this possibility quite a lot over the past few months. Snow won't just give up and let us both live peacefully if I get out alive and Gale and I won't give up rebelling. "I've heard you talking about it," she says. "I listened. Don't lie to me. I'm thirteen now and I'm mature enough to know the truth. I want to know."

I hesitate. Prim knows more than I thought and it isn't right for me to lie about this. But it doesn't feel right to give Prim such a burden. She has a determined look in her eyes and I can see that she is serious about this. "OK," I say finally. "I'll keep it brief. You know that Gale and I are the centre of the rebellion and we will be stirring up the Capitol in the Games. Haymitch has contacts with other people, the rest of the rebels. I suspect that after the Games war will break out because neither Snow nor I will back down."

"That makes sense," Prim says nodding. "Do you know who Haymitch's contacts are though? How many of them there are and what equipment they have? Where they are? Anything?"

"Nothing," I admit. The door twitches and I pull Prim into a hug. "I'll miss you, little duck," I say, remembering the nickname from last year. The back of her shirt is sticking out again and I smile slightly. Some things haven't changed. "I'll try and stay safe for you. Don't get into trouble when I'm gone."

My mother comes up to me and kisses me on the forehead. "Goodbye I guess," she says. I can feel her quivering as she hugs me and I clutch her tightly. I prepared for this moment, but it didn't quite feel real until now. I'm going to go to the Capitol and I might not ever come back.

"Goodbye," I reply. "Good luck."

I have no more visitors, but that isn't really surprising. I said my last goodbyes to all of my friends over the past few days as I knew I was going to be reaped. The peacekeepers take me out of the room and to the train. Gale and Haymitch are already sitting down. It hasn't changed much since last year. Bar in the corner, a few tables and some comfortable seats. I go and join them. I wonder how much longer Haymitch has been here than me. I don't think he has any friends (that aren't enemies of the Capitol) and I know that he has no family.

Haymitch and Gale stop talking keep talking to each other as I sit down. I listen to what they are saying. Haymitch seems to be giving Gale mentoring tips. I catch the word spiel and wonder what it is. I've heard that word before somewhere, probably one of the Capitol instructors mentioned it last year when I was training. My brain provides that it is something that can be drilled into trees and water comes out like a tap. It sounds useful, but expensive. Then again, I'll probably have quite a few sponsors. I bet that I am the Capitol favourite this year, maybe along with Finnick Odair.

"Do we have a strategy for the Games?" I ask Haymitch. "And do you know who else was reaped?"

"There isn't a concrete strategy yet," he replies. "My friends haven't been able to communicate any info about the arena, so we don't know what will come up. Gale will send us a spiel, because most massacres in the Games take place because there is only one water source that the careers guard." I nod. It was lucky that Gale and I managed to avoid that last year by finding the ponds. "From Districts One and Two, it's all careers. No allies. Gloss and Cashmere and Brutus and Enobaria."

"She's the one that ripped people's throats out with her teeth, isn't she?" I ask shuddering. I watched her Games with Gale a few weeks ago. The forty sixth Hunger Games. It was only her and her District partner left at the end. Until then she had been relatively friendly with him and then after killing the last tribute left apart from them, she suddenly lunged at his throat with her teeth and tore it out. It was horrifying, everybody in Panem could see the blood dripping across her face and the manic joy in her eyes as the last cannon went off.

"Yes," Haymitch says. "I see her in the mentor room almost every year. After the Games she had Capitol surgeons alter her teeth to be sharper with golden metal tips. Anyway, District 3 are with us. Beetie and Wiress, they're both quite old, but they are smart and good with electronics. Rebellion. District 4 is Finnick and Mags. Both rebellion, but Mags is about eighty so don't count on her being much use."

"Why did she volunteer then?" I ask. "I bet some of the District 4 careers would have been willing to go in." From what I remember, District 4 has twelve victors. Seven male, five female. Of those, eight are careers. There should have been one or two career females who would have volunteered.

"She wanted to die, I think," Gale says. "She knows that she won't be much use to the rebellion and didn't want to waste a younger rebellion victor to die in the Games. Just my thoughts though, perhaps she had a different plan. In District 5 there's Electra and a man named Leon. Electra was Aravis's mentor. She's on her side. Leon doesn't care either way, all he wants to do is fight his hardest and stay alive. Selfish and apathetic."

I shrug. I don't really blame Leon, I didn't really want this to happen. Well, I wanted the Capitol to be overthrown, but I didn't want to be put in the firing line myself. I guess I wanted a political coup with as few people harmed as possible, not a messy war that will devastate both sides. The cause is worth it though. Leon is a coward.

"District 6 won't be any help," Haymitch tells me. "Their tributes are forgettable. Both addicted to morphling and old and useless. And they'll get withdrawal symptoms during the Games. District 7 has Johanna Mason, she's on our side and a man called Ishmael. He's the same as Leon. District's 8, 9, 10 and 11 all have older victors going in, so you should meet some rebellion Victors in the mentor room Gale."

"So we form an eight person alliance?" I ask. "That sounds good, we'll be the strongest but do you know that the others will be able to put the rebellion over their own lives? It could get messy if our alliance falls apart a few days into the Games. And won't you get withdrawal symptoms from lack of alcohol?"

"I've been cutting back these last few weeks," Haymitch says. "In case I was reaped for the Games, or volunteered to save Gale. I should be fine." I shrug. I hadn't really noticed much difference in Haymitch for the last few weeks, but now that he mentions it I didn't see him drinking as much as he used to. He has a high enough tolerance now that it takes a lot of alcohol just to touch him.

The rest of the train journey is spent talking about sponsor items and different ideas. I think about what the arena might be like. Both of the Quarter Quell arenas in the past have been special. The 25th Games took place in a series of tunnels underground. Once every three hours, the tunnels would shift and collapse so the arena was difficult to navigate. Every two days there would be a surge of water that could kill unlucky tributes. The 50th Games was Haymitch's arena, huge- beautiful, but deadly, everything poisonous.

The train slows down to a halt outside the Capitol. It looks different to how I remembered it before. The pristine white buildings that I saw before have huge screens advertising the different tributes. Spotlights shine and I realise that they are celebrating the Games more than usual this year because of the Quarter Quell. But lower down on the buildings, I see something that gives me hope. Graffiti. Mockingjays drawn in a circle of fire, like the pin on my jacket. People in the Capitol are rebelling.

We are ushered off the train quickly, being guided by Effie through the buildings. Now that I'm closer, I can read the graffiti easily. "Down with the Hunger Games," I whisper. "The odds are never in their favour. Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne gave us a spark. We just need to kindle it." Gale gives me a small smile and I clasp his hand in mine. Even here in the Capitol the rebellion is catching.

Cinna is waiting for me in my room with a bag containing my clothes for the chariot rides. He guides me to the bed and opens the bag with a flourish. He is proud of his creation this year, I can tell. I doubt that he'll be able to top last years outfits, but he seems confident that he has.

First he pulls a tight, form-fitting black top and leggings from the bag. They remind me of the material that my victory party dress was made out of, I can see the threads running through it that can be set on fire. He also takes out a black headband made of the same material. I go into the bathroom and put them on.

When I exit, he has a make up kit out and a few accessories. He braids my hair back for me, plaiting in strands of a golden material. He then shades my face a pale grey colour and adds darker grey accents around my eyes. Then he takes out a bottle with two small pieces of plastic inside. "These are called contact lenses," he says. "They used to be used hundreds of years ago to correct vision, but now we have surgery for that. I realised that I could modify them to give a certain effect to your eyes. Open your eyes wide."

I do as he says and he presses them in. I blink a bit. They feel odd, but not how I expected them to feel. I can still see as well as I could before and I turn to a mirror. Flames are running through my irises and the dark grey eyeliner he put on before turns to flames. Cinna lights up the outfit and the headband and the threads running through my hair. I catch fire, literally. My whole body looks like a burning piece of coal, complete with a mist coming from the back of my top.

I look quite tough and sinister, I realise. Last year the costume was just that, a costume. But now it seems like I am a fire, and not a soft heart or candle type of fire either. I am the type of fire that could burn through a city. Dangerous and uncontrollable, just like the fire of the rebellion. I smile at the symbolism and follow Cinna out of the building where the chariots wait. Haymitch is already sitting there.

He doesn't look as good as I do or as Gale would, but he still looks fiery and dangerous. I sit next to him and glance over at the other District chariots. We look the best, undoubtably. Finnick is dressed in a mermaid tail with a bare, tanned chest. He's definitely going for sexy as his angle and I don't blame him. Gale is attractive, but he's nothing compared to Finnick. For Mags they made a costume that had pieces of coral glued to it.

The chariots start moving and gain speed. The Capitol crowds cheer and wave and throw flowers. I just stare ahead. To wave like last year wouldn't go with the theme of this year, the theme to be tough rather than desirable. Haymitch does the same thing. The cheering climaxes as we come to a stop, then dies down.

President Snow gives a speech on how the theme of this Quarter Quell is that even the strongest of the Districts cannot defeat and escape punishment from the Capitol. It seems too fitting to be a coincidence.

xXx-X-xXx

Sorry for the slow update again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I think it's one of my longest one. Please review, follow or favourite if you liked it. I would also appreciate some constructive criticism if you didn't. Thanks.

-MoonOfPluto