Oh, my lovelies, we've made it. :) We maaaaaaaaaade it! And it's a smidgen early, as promised. I hope you guys like it. I know it's a ton of snippets, but I felt it worked best this way.
Umm... I'm still doing a drabble (about 1,000 words) for anyone who can guess what's going to happen until I post the chapter starting the Quell. Just send me a PM with your guess or add it in a review and whenever we get to the part you guessed on I'll let you know to pick the topic of the snippet.
I won't hold you up too much longer here. ;P Promise.
Thank you for the favorites and follows and the amazing words of encouragement. Special thanks to Guest/cuzimhaunted (Since, this was essentially the same review, I'm assuming you're the same person, if not, I'm sorry! Just. Wow. Thank you so much for all of that. I'm really flattered and I'm so glad you love it and my writing. Thank you, thank you, thank you!), Tess (You have an account now! Ah!), mangesboy01, pretty-pleasee, and WifeOfMalfoy for their lovely reviews. :)
So... I lied. I just remembered that I have one other thing to add. Apparently, someone on a website called Quotev has plagiarized this story. Not sure what I'm going to do about that at the moment, but thought I'd throw it out there in case anyone else had stumbled upon it. And thank you to RoseMaple for telling me about it... even though I don't think she'll ever read this.
I snuggle deeper into the sheets, ignoring the pounding on my door.
"Nic!"
"No!" I groan. "I refuse to get up today. I refuse!"
"You have to!" she calls, giving another loud rap.
"If they need me, they can send a Peacekeeper."
The door opens and Castalia glares down at me. "You're setting a terrible example. Come on. This might be our last morning together."
With that sobering thought, I roll out of bed and run into Keenan's room, tackling him awake before burying his face in a shower of kisses. I enunciate every word with a kiss. "I. Love. You."
"Nicci!" he giggles, trying to brush me away.
"Up, up," I say, sweeping him into my arms for a hug. "Want to wake the twins up?"
He nods eagerly, his sleep-blurred eyes lighting up at the prospect. He claws at the air and tries to pull away from me. "Put me down!"
As soon as I do, he takes off for their room. I barely catch up with him before he's landed on Lara's bed, jumping up and down on the foot of it before springing onto Lilaea's to do the same.
The twins groan and toss their pillows at him, but he dodges them and runs giggling down the hallway and staircase to the kitchen where he knows breakfast will be waiting for him.
Two sets of groggy, brown eyes glare at me amid tangles of brown hair.
"Why'd you let him wake us up?" they say in unison.
"I have to let him have his fun somehow. Now up, up. It's a big day."
At breakfast an hour later, we have a full table. Seamus and Dad came up to join us and Dad made biscuits and gravy for us like he used to over a year ago, before this whole mess. The nostalgia was nearly overwhelming at first, but I've managed to swallow it down and enjoy the meal.
"So when do I get to meet that boy?" Seamus drawls, looking over at me from his seat at one end of the table.
I shrug, stuffing a mouthful of biscuit in my mouth. "Maybe a month or two. Depends on how things go today."
He takes a sip of his tea. "I know exactly how today's going. And I have a feeling I know how this week is going to end."
I quirk an eyebrow at him. Seamus isn't usually so cryptic. "How do you know how this week's going to end?"
"Finnick might have mentioned something." He winks at me.
Of course Seamus knows about the Rebellion. "Oh? What's he got planned? A pancake feast?"
"Complete with sugar cubes," Seamus says with a smile.
I can't help but laugh.
The light green dress zips easily along my side. It's a bit snug now, but it still fits me pretty well. A year of eating to my heart's content has finally begun to show. I smile over at the mirror on the other side of the room. The dress is just as beautiful now as it was the first time I wore it. I wonder if Mum saw it in the store and new it would look like this on me.
I close my eyes to stop the tears as memories of my mother helping me dress on this day a year ago flood my mind. Her hands gently pulling my hair back into an elegant braid, tugging the zipper up, shifting the dress until it looked just right, holding me close.
With a shake, I walk over to the box on the vanity. Along with the dress, Galatea sent me a couple other things- make-up to hide any lingering bruises from 2 and a necklace with my old seashell token dangling from it.
Standing near the mirror, I try to fasten the clasp on the necklace, but it won't go and it slips out of my fingertips and clatters to the floor, rolling away from me.
I bend down to pick the necklace up from under the bed, but notice something else a little further back. An envelope. Grabbing my necklace in one hand, I reach forward and grab the piece of paper with the other. Gently, I brush off the layer of dust to see my name written on the front in broken writing that I don't recognize.
I pop the seal on the back and pull out the envelope.
I glance over into the boys' section of the square, that's as far as they've gone by way of separating us, age divisions don't seem to matter as much this year. I smile a bit when I see Keenan's head rising above the sea of people. His hands are resting on top of Finnick's red head, prepared to grip it tightly if he gets jostled. He grins over the crowd and waves eagerly when he catches sight of me. I wave back. I'm glad he isn't freaking out about all of this, like the twins are. Lara and Lilaea have gone deathly quiet as the minutes have ticked past, moving in closer and closer to Castalia and I as it gets closer to time for the ceremony to start.
Annie stands beside me, hugging herself and whispering repeatedly under her breath that everything is going to be ok. Everything will be alright.
I grab her hand in mine and give it a reassuring squeeze.
Her panicky eyes look imploringly at me, begging me to repeat the phrase. To say it and make it real. To tell her everything will be alright.
"It'll be fine, Annie. You don't have to worry."
On her other side, Mags pats her hand comfortingly and begins cooing garbled words to her.
Annie nods and lets out a long, deep breath, her eyes slipping closed as she tries to calm down.
Mags and I lock eyes and hers pose a question.
Almost unwillingly, I nod, a wave of guilt rolling over me as I do.
She gives me a thankful, almost proud smile before turning all of her attention back on Annie.
There's a loud boom from the speakers causing nearly everyone in the crowd to jump and a few people to scream in surprise. Tensions are running high today. Everyone's anxious and eager for this next hour to be done and over with. They're ready to go back to their homes, safe and sound with their family still intact.
Lilaea clutches at my hand and nibbles her bottom lip at the sound.
Annie lets out a whimper.
On stage, Ophelia stands in her standard over-the-top outfit; her short dress is bedecked with bright, red crystal that blinds some of us if she moves just right and catches the sunlight.
She gives her usual speech about how exciting it is to be here. She introduces the same video from the Capitol and we watch it in complete silence.
Finally, she steps up to the bowls of names. They're much larger this year to accommodate the overflow of names present. It's not fair that Snow isn't playing by the rules and I feel my hands clenching at my sides at the indignity of it.
As she trills out that it's "Ladies first!", Lilaea buries her face in my side. Annie lets out another whimper and her hand scrambles for mine, nails digging into my wrist briefly before she manages to loop her fingers through mine.
Ophelia's hand lowers gracefully into the glass bowl, swimming among the names for a moment before plunging in deeper and pulling out a single slip of paper. She steps down from her pedestal and back over to the microphone. Carefully, she breaks the seal and her face falls. She glances up at the crowd. "An-"
Two places down from me there's a shout to mute her out.
Ophelia stutters for a moment before gathering herself up. "It would appear we have a Volunteer," she whispers, her eyes scanning the crowd.
I'm way ahead of her though, my eyes locked with Mags' before she turns and kisses Annie on the cheek. She sidles weakly past her before stopping at me, patting me gently on the cheek and mouthing "you".
Me. She wants me to be her Mentor. A couple tears slip from my eyes as I nod.
She grasps my arm tightly and I guide her through the slowly parting crowd. When we reach the center aisle, a deathly quiet descends upon the crowd. Peacekeepers surround us on every side and escort us silently up the aisle and onto the stage.
I help Mags up the steps, biting my lip to keep the tears at bay. When we reach the top of the steps, Ophelia gives us a weak smile and offers me her hand. She thinks it was me. They all think it was me. Before I can reach my hand out though and take the credit, take Mags' place, Mags' weathered hand comes forward and takes Ophelia's.
Ophelia gives a small whimper and her eyes go glassy as it sinks in. In the crowd, there's an uproar. People are screaming and hissing, boos echo loudly from within. Over the din of anger though is another sound, the sound of sobbing. The sounds of those who realize the loss and the sacrifice, those who know Mags has signed her death warrant.
Once she's in place on the stage beside Ophelia and to the side of the microphone, I silently take my seat as Mentor beside the Mayor. He pats my hand lightly, comfortingly, before removing it and making a gesture with his hand towards the crowd for silence.
On the screens at the back, I see Ophelia trying to give a warm smile as she steps up to the bowl, but failing miserably. There're no grand gestures this time though, she just jabs her hand into the bowl and draws out the first slip she touches. Silently, she makes her way over to the microphone and breaks the seal on this slip as well. Her eyes slide shut after she reads the name, her mouth forming a tight line before she calls the name.
"Finnick Odair."
On screen, I see Finnick handing Keenan over to Seamus, his face set in a grim line before he begins making his way towards the aisle. There's a shout in the back and many heads turn to see if someone's Volunteered, but no one comes forward.
Finnick looks stoic as he makes his way forward. His back is straight and his face is set in an unreadable mask. He walks briskly up the steps, sending me a quick wink before moving to stand beside a teary-eyed Ophelia.
Liam slips on stage as well, giving me a nod to move and stand behind Mags as he moves over to stand behind Finnick. Mags totters a bit, having been standing for a long time and I rush forward to support her. She pats my arm lovingly and smiles out at the crowd before us.
There's not a dry eye in the square as I look out from my new vantage point on the raised platform. We all know what this means. Our matriarch is going to die.
Not only her though, but our golden boy probably will as well.
"I present to you, District 4's tributes for the Seventy-fifth Annual Hunger Games: Mags McCulloch and Finnick Odair!"
Defiance wells up in me. This is wrong. So very inherently wrong. And if Snow wants a war, then it's war he shall have. I'm done standing on the sidelines and letting everyone else take charge. It's time to take the spotlight and lay my cards on the table. He needs to know that I'm not his puppet anymore.
My eyes fly to one of the cameras and I can see my face reflected back at me from the screens at the back of the square. I look angry, my eyes narrowed in absolute loathing and my jaw set in a firm line, my arm wrapped protectively around Mags. Then I do the simplest act of rebellion I can think of, one that I know would irritate the President to no end. I raise my arm up in the air, my hand formed in the three-finger salute of District 12, the sign of rebellion. Almost instantaneously the rest of my district follows suit.
District 4 has chosen its side in the upcoming battle. Let the others decide as well.
Almost immediately, we're shoved off-stage by Peacekeepers. They aren't gentle, knocking us off-balance and nudging us roughly with the butts of their weapons.
I can hear screams and shouts of outrage. People are calling other people's names. There's an echo of gunfire. I try to glance behind me and see what's going on, but one of the masked Peacekeepers gives me an even harder shove, knocking me into Finnick and causing Mags and I to trip. Finnick lets out a growl and glares at the Peacekeeper before hustling Mags and I in front of him.
Instead of guiding us into the Justice Building for our final meetings with family and friends, we're shoved into a car and raced towards the train station.
No one says a word once we're on board. Mags takes her seat in the same chair she occupied last year. Liam goes to the liquor cabinet and takes a long drink from a brown bottle before slumping into another chair, he'll be completely gone in an hour. Ophelia scuttled off to her room towards the front of the train. Finnick and I walk slowly out of the compartment and make our way towards the last one.
The room is already filled with wind by the time we get to it, our hometown fading quickly in the distance. I bite back a sob as realization hits me. This might be the last time I see my home and this morning might have been the last time I saw my family.
Beside me, Finnick starts crying.