Okay, so, I've never done this before but there's a first for everything. I didn't realize this, but when I started working on this chapter, I soon discovered that it will be much longer than I had anticipated. So, because of this, I'm breaking it up into two parts (since there is so much stuff I want to put into it). I considered doing one large chapter but I kind of want to post something for you all since I haven't in about a week now. Anyway, just wanted to explain what was going on.

I'd like to take a moment to thank American Fantasy, Savysnape7, Minerva-Amantine, Rippl, Gabisamore, HB rules, Firing Rockets on Dragons, YvelissaBlossom, NaomiBlue, Eliza Ignis, cato, Welsh Gem, Doc95, DrawingAddict, HogwartsDreamer113, cinderella204, anon, June Bell, MetYouByACoin, thatiismahogany, br0503, JuhLillith, Narcissesme, asha74 , thepotionmaster7, iwastheexample, pinkish-red hearts, Aureleis, nekkuu, Fictional-Reality-Me, CriminalMindsChick6, Natureboy3,and XmadlyinloveX for the lovely feedback/reviews you gave me for the last chapter (or previous chapters you happened to review in the same time frame). I seriously appreciate all of the support you give to me. And now, without further ado, here is chapter twenty one, part one.

Chapter twenty one: Essence of Rose (Part One)

Nowadays it seems as if there is never a single moment when either Katniss or Peeta are not in Haymitch's home. As the weeks drag on and the fate of the approaching Quarter Quell looms over our shoulders, whether it be discussion or some sort of physical training on their part, every second is spent preparing. Perhaps if I were in the Capitol, I too would be readying myself for the Games. Most likely planning some extravagant party to celebrate the events that are to come. But here in Twelve, no joy nor desire to rejoice fill me. Instead, my heart grows heavy with uncertainty and anguish as to what the future holds.

I try to hide my increasing worries from the others. Disguise my expression with a smile so they don't see that my stomach twists violently with the knowledge that it'll be me who draws their names from the reaping bowl, despite Haymitch's opposing this blame I've put on myself previously. In an attempt to block the dreadful thoughts that plague me, I have resorted to immersing myself in their training even more than I have been. I do not participate in their daily activities but rather look on and if need be, take to keeping track of their schedules that begin as early as dusk. And today, on this particular morning, when Peeta and Katniss arrive, I notice she as something gripped tightly in her hand.

"Good morning," Peeta greets us both with a nod as he and Katniss take their usual seats on the couch.

"Good is not the best adjective to use when describing the morning," Haymitch grumbles with annoyance, "but same to you."

I glance quickly over at Haymitch trying to suppress the frown that threatens to overtake my faux smile. His appearance is poor at most. Yellow tinted skin accompanied by the dark circles of exhaustion that bag underneath his eyes. If this training has done one thing for him, it's tire him out completely. Secretly, as distasteful as it is, I hold a slight grudge against Peeta for taking away his liquor. Maybe if he still had that luxury, he wouldn't look as miserable as he does.

"Madge has kindly lent us something," and my attention is suddenly brought back to the object Katniss was previously clutching as she tosses it onto the table, "a Capitol newspaper."

I can't help but gaze at the paper in awe. The brightly colored photos. The unmistakable swirls of text that laden the pages. It takes all my willpower to not up and grab it and devour what ever text of the newest fashion trends lay inside. No, my curiosity keeps me from that. It's impossible not to wonder why in Panem Katniss would take interest in such a thing as this? Perhaps my style of fashion has grown on her?

"A newspaper?" I shift a little where I sit to get a closer look. My swelling stomach making it more difficult to find a comfortable position. "What ever do you want that for?"

It's Haymitch who enters. "Predictions," he rubs his nose with the back of his hand and sniffs, "Am I right?"

"Predictions?" I ask, looking from each of the three people who also occupy the room, "of what may I inquire?"

"Us," Peeta replies simply as he takes the paper off the table, "of where we stand in the Capitolians' favors."

"Have you taken a look yet?" Haymitch mumbles, slouching deeper into the cushions, "not that I anticipate that I am highly ranked. Could care less really."

"No," Katniss replies, "we came straight here after Madge delivered it to us. The threat of Peacekeepers seeing us look at it on the streets was too great. It is, after all, illegal to possess Capitol information that is not authorized to the District Twelve public. And I doubt a lashing from Head Peacekeeper Thread would benefit any of us with the Quell approaching and all."

I gnaw gently on the inside of my cheek trying to ignore the fact that we are breaking yet another law by holding this paper in our possession. Attempting to focus on other thoughts, I eye the paper as Peeta opens it, my heart beginning to thump with anticipation as I await to hear the results.

"Ranking first with a collective vote of sixty three thousand citizens," Peeta reads, his eyes scanning the list of names etched in what appears to be gold ink, "Finnick Odair of District Four."

Haymitch scoffs at the name and I too, am not at all surprised. Beautiful, green eyed, bronze haired Finnick. There is absolutely no shock that out of all the remaining tributes living, he is the most favored. After all, he was and still is the youngest victor to have ever won the Games. To dislike him is almost considered criminal in the Capitol.

"Odair," Haymitch scratches absentmindly at his stubble, "no surprise there. The man's got practically every woman swooning in his wake. Whose next?"

"Ranking second," Peeta continues, "with a collective vote of fifty nine thousand citizens is our very own Katniss Everdeen of District Twelve."

An overwhelming sense of pride swells in me at the mention of Katniss ranking second out of fifty nine possible candidates. I look over at her and cannot help but beam. Gaining such a high group of supporters like she did surely ensures the high probability of sponsors for her.

"Oh Katniss," I exclaim, "Congratulations! How wonderful to be ranked second! You must be very pleased."

However, she does not return the enthusiasm. "Just means that I'll have higher expectations to uphold when we return to the Capitol."

I'm unsure of what she means by her statement but as I've learned before, I decide not to question it. After all, it has yet to be announced what Peeta and Haymitch ranked and that is far more important than the meaning of Katniss's words. Leaning back against the sofa, my hands resting on my stomach, I wait for Peeta to continue.

"I ranked sixth," he says after a few moments of scanning the list, "Right after Brutus of District Two, Cashmere of District One, and Enobaria of District Two," he goes silent again as he eyes the names once more, "and Haymitch ranked eleventh with a collective vote of forty two thousand citizens."

Eleventh place. Once again I swell with pride. Eleventh place isn't at all bad, considering Haymitch's age and current health. I look in his direction and smile brightly. I'm not sure how he has kept up a rather acceptable image with the public but I shall not question it.

"Eleventh place!" I say cheerfully, "That's an excellent number. Nothing there to complain about at all."

Haymitch merely grunts in reply, "Their statics about who will win are useless. Some of us they haven't seen compete in several decades. Damn people don't seem to understand skills deteriorate with age."

I frown softly at his words. With that attitude, he surely would lose sponsors. Not that, that would matter really. After all, as he and Peeta and Katniss had discussed, he wouldn't be returning to the arena. At least, I pray that, that will still be the case after the Reaping rolls around.

"Haymitch," It's Peeta's voice that breaks my trail of thought, "is there a chance, that going by these statics, the Capitol could alter the Reaping results so that those who are more favored enter the Games?"

I'm rather astonished by Peeta's words. The paranoia everyone around me seems to share about the Capitol is absurd. Perhaps it is wrong that they are to be put back into the reaping bowl but to question the rigging of it... They might as well accuse me of this madness since I will be the one in charge of drawing names.

"No," I reply tersely, "absolutely not. There is no way such a thing could happen. The idea of it is just silly!"

"Maybe not with District Twelve," Haymitch remarks sternly, "but it sure as hell wouldn't be any surprise to me if it happened. I've seen worse things happen."

I inhale sharply at his words, "Honestly, you all act as if the Capitol is against every district in Panem. How silly you all sound. Have you heard yourselves? I do agree that this Quell is wrong on many levels but the Capitol shouldn't be blamed for all of this wrong doing."

"When you finally stop using so much magenta mascara and open your eyes, maybe you'll see there's more to what you're told to believe, Princess." Haymitch replies gruffly.

Silence falls over the room as no one has a word to say to one another. My blood boils with anger over the stupidity of Haymitch. Yes, the Capitol has made some rather questionable decision but it is still my home. My birth place. And he owes me at least the respect of that. After a few minutes of the awkwardness in the air, Peeta is the one to pierce the quiet by clearing his throat.

"We should celebrate our high predictions," he says, "take the day off from training. There are a few things I agreed to go and help my father with anyway. A rather large baking order. And besides, I think some rest would do us all some good. It's well deserved after all."

Though I am furious with Haymitch, I nod in agreement with Peeta. Rest will do Haymitch some good. Do all of them some good. And perhaps after a restful day, the realization that their accusations involving the Capitol are false. At least, I could hope for as much.

"I second that notion," I say, "I believe some rest will benefit us all."

"Then it's settled," Katniss says rising up, "training will be put off until tomorrow."

Peeta too stands up and steps over to Katniss's side, "If there's anything either of you need," he says, "I'm just over at my father's bakery. We'll meet again tomorrow morning at the usual hour. Rest up," he says more to Haymitch than me.

After a quick farewell, Peeta and Katniss depart from the house. I watch the doorway where they exited for a moment, finding their leaving rather sudden. My eyes fall onto the table where Katniss has left behind the newspaper, it's pages still folded onto the Quell predictions.

"That'll burn nicely in the fireplace," Haymitch mumbles as I reach for it.

The corners of my mouth twitch into a frown as I lift it up gingerly, "Well then, it's unfortunate that you will not have the chance to ignite it then." I carefully fold it up how it was previously and place it off to the side out of Haymitch's reach. "I, unlike you, prefer to keep things of importance rather than turn them to ash. Capitol papers are rather expensive, you know. I would not at all be surprised if real gold was in the ink used to print out the prediction's list."

"And I wouldn't be surprised if several people died mining that gold for your precious paper," he shoots back.

I'm about to reply to his snide remark when a knock at the front door silences us both. I glance over at the entrance curious as to who it could possibly be this early in the morning. Perhaps it's Peeta and Katniss coming back to retrieve the paper they have forgotten? Then again, they never knock anymore. I stare to push myself up when Haymitch holds out his hand to stop me.

"Come in," he calls out in a gruff voice.

"I would have been more than happy to have just gone and opened the door," I say to him, "it would've been the polite thing to do."

He shrugs, "Easier just to yell," he mumbles as the front door creaks open.

Pursing my lips slightly, I look towards the door. To my surprise, Hazelle enters looking rather frazzled with a small girl, no older than the age of five, clasping onto her hand. From the unmistakable resemblance the two share, I know at once that the small child is none other than Posy Hawthorne, Hazelle's daughter.

"I'm so sorry," Hazelle exhales, her hand grasping onto the child's tightly, "I know I'm late and though it's no excuse, it's due to the fact that the woman who usually watches Posy while her brothers and I are away has fallen ill and cannot keep an eye on her today."

Posy peers over at Haymitch and me from her mother's side. As if pleased by some unknown entertainment, she giggles before hiding her face in her against her mother's leg, peeking out occasional at us with a shy smile. I smile softly at her. Seeing her brings back the memory of the two little girls I met in District Eleven those many months back. I can't help but wonder what ever became of them.

"Don't worry about it, Hazelle," Haymitch says sitting up, "it's not an issue. If you can't work today, I'm sure eating her food for one day," he nods towards me, "won't cause both of my kidneys fail."

I throw Haymitch a dirty look, "Manners," I hiss softly before turning my attention back to Hazelle, "but Haymitch is right. If you are unable to clean today, we completely understand." My eyes fall upon the little girl who still playfully cowers behind her mother, "I believe everyone needs a day off from their usual tasks. Call it a rest day if you will."

Hazelle chuckles tiredly, "I wish I could rest today. Wouldn't that be lovely? But I'm afraid that there is a pile of laundry that awaits for me at home to wash. Of course, I am completely grateful that now people have begun to come back to me for their clothes washing. What ever brings the money in," she smiles down at Posy before ruffling her hair, "I have, after all, four mouths to feed."

"Me!" Posy suddenly chimes in, "And Vick! And Rory! And Gale! That makes four! Right mama?"

"Yes," Hazelle smiles, "that it does."

Posy smiles over at Haymitch and me, the shyness suddenly disappearing, "I can count," she tells us proudly, "my mom says I'm the best counter in all of District Twelve! I can count up to twenty! That's a really big number. It's probably the biggest number ever!"

I laugh softly, "Well, that is very impressive. Perhaps one day, when you're older of course, you'll make a mighty fine banker. Maybe I'll even transfer all of my funds into your bank."

Posy shakes her head giggling, "Nope, I don't want to be a banker. I want to be president! President Posy! My brother Gale says it has a nice ring to it 'cept I don't know what ring he's talking about. I hope whatever ring it is, it has diamonds."

"Very ambitious for such a young girl," I say to Hazelle, "that's a very good quality to have."

"And it keeps me on my toes," she smirks, her hand resting on Posy's head, "Well, Posy, we best be getting off. I have a lot of work to do at home."

"Awe," Posy pouts, ''work is boring. Why can't we play today? You're always working, mama. I want to play."

"Now you know I can't today," Hazelle says with a soft frown, "Maybe tomorrow we can? But today, I need you to be a good girl and let mama finish up some things at home? Can you do that for me please?"

Poor Hazelle. I hadn't realized until this moment how hard she actually works. It's as if she never has a moment to relax. As I watch her trying to convince Posy that she'll spend time with her tomorrow, an idea comes to mind. An idea that would not only benefit Hazelle, but also Haymitch and me.

"Hazelle," I say, "if you'd like, Haymitch and I could keep an eye on her for you. It wouldn't be a problem at all. And," I quickly add before she can interject, "it'll give you some peace and quiet while you do the loads of laundry you have. I don't see a downside to it."

Hazelle's quiet for a moment. Her eyes flicker from Haymitch and me to Posy and then back to us. Then, slowly, a smile creeps up onto her face. She glances down at Posy once more and gives her hair another ruffle.

"Would you like that, Posy?" she asks gently, "to play with Ms. Trinket and Mr. Abernathy today?"

Posy's eyes light up at the word play, "Yes!" she squeals, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" she bounces excitedly, her arms wrapping around her mother's leg and she sway back and forth.

"And you both really don't mind?" Hazelle asks, "she can be quite a handful..."

I look over at Haymitch who, to my surprise, merely shrugs. I thought that maybe if anyone would be against the idea of watching the child, it would've been him. Perhaps he too sees this as practice for the future. Or, of course, just wants to help Hazelle out. Whatever the case may be, I'm just pleased that he's agreeing to this.

"Of course we don't mind," I assure her, "it would be our pleasure."

"Alright," Hazelle chuckles as Posy unhooks herself from her leg, "but if she's any trouble, don't hesitate to bring her back to me," I watch as she kneels down at eye level with Posy, "now, remember your manners and don't misbehave for Ms. Trinket and Mr. Abernathy, you hear? Be a good girl."

Posy stands tall, "I'm always a good girl," she says proudly.

Hazelle smiles softly, "Well, stay that way, okay? Try not to talk their heads off. I want to be invited back here," she rises from the ground and looks over at us, "I cannot thank you both enough for doing this for me. I am forever in your debt."

"Don't mention it, Hazelle," Haymitch says, "and you owe us no debt. After all, it's you whose kept edible food in this household. Just go and enjoy a few hours of child-free work time."

Hazelle smiles warmly, "I shouldn't take too long. Whenever you're tired of her, you know where to drop her." She stoops down and places a kiss on Posy's forehead, "Behave," she whispers before standing back up straight, "I'll see you all later. Thanks so much again."

I watch as Hazelle disappears from sight, the boom of the door shutting announcing her departure. After a few moments, Posy ventures closer to us, hands curled softly at her side. I give her a soft smile, suddenly unsure of what to do next. It's the first time that I've ever watched a child under the age of twelve. Since, of course, no five year old has ever been admitted into the Hunger Games. I quickly glance over at Haymitch, who, by the look of uncertainty in his eyes, has just about as much of a clue as I do. My stomach begins to churn with the realization that I'm unsure of how to handle a child at all.

"Ms. Trinket? Mr. Abernathy?"

I hear Posy calling me back to my senses. Inhaling deeply, I turn to face her. A smile plastered on my face to hide the fact that I have no knowledge in this department. Today, right now, is going to be a test on both my and Haymitch's parenting skills. Something, I fear, that neither of us are equipped with.

I actually wasn't planning to bring Posy into this chapter. It just sort of came to me while I was taking my English exam yesterday. I thought that by bringing her in, would allow me to write about Effie and Haymitch's different takes on how to care for a child (or whatever you want to call that?) Anyway, part two will have that in there along with Effie's birthday, more baby talk, an insight into the Snow thing I've been talking about, Hayffie fluff, and answers to questions left out in previous chapters (all will make sense later, I promise). Oh, and if anyone is curious, Effie is currently twenty three weeks pregnant. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed part one. Feedback is greatly appreciated (and energizes my fingers for writing *insert winky face here*). I'm always curious to know what your favorite parts were and what you'd like to see. I shall getting working on part two after I come back from my second exam today.-Jen