Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
AN: Just a quick warning. This chapter has some discussion of miscarriage. That word is never used directly, but it's pretty clearly implied. It's not a large segment, but it is there and I do plan on it coming up again in the next chapter. Sorry.
Kaleidoscope, pt 29
Gale wakes to the scent of bacon wafting into the bedroom.
Madge is still asleep, nose pressed to his chest, so she's clearly not up making breakfast.
Glancing at the clock, Gale sees its a little earlier than he normally gets up, but curiosity gets the better of him.
Carefully, trying not to groan, Gale untangles Madge from around him and gets up. Normally she wakes with him, sees him off, but the excitement of last night has exhausted her. She doesn't so much as squint up at him, just wrinkles her nose and burrows into his pillow.
Pulling on his clothes, Gale quietly opens the door and follows the scent.
Miles is standing at the stove, back the opening between the kitchen and living room, prodding a pan as he talks. He's already dressed, a tailored pair of pants and button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and looks a bit foreign, a bit too polished to be in the tiny, battered kitchen.
Then he laughs, glances over his shoulder and grins at the table behind him. It's the same goofy grin, same cheery laugh Gale listened too for eighteen years. Under all the shine, Miles is still Miles, and Gale scolds himself for not remembering that.
Glancing to the table, Gale finds Murphy, cross legged in the chair, frowning.
"I'm serious, Miles," she tells him, pushing her bulky glasses up her nose.
"So am I," he tells her, taking the pan from the stove and crossing to the table, setting it on a pad. "Probably have to take Avery, you know how it is with middle children. It'll two or three years before they even notice he's gone."
He picks up a slice of bacon and chews it, grinning.
Murphy's frown holds for a moment, until Miles takes another slice of bacon and reaches out, prods her in the nose with it.
Her lips twitch and she finally sighs, takes the slice from him and sets it on the plate in front of her. Smiling softly, she closes her eyes. "You're an idiot, you know that right?"
Miles just shrugs. "You married me, remember?"
"I'm an idiot too," she grumbles, lifting her glasses and rubbing her eyes. Her somber expression reforms as she smiles sadly. "But seriously...what if I-what if this keeps happening?"
Plopping into the seat next to her, Miles reaches out and fixes her glasses, brushes some hair of her cheek.
"If-and that's a big if-it happens again, then we'll deal with it however you want." He scoots his chair closer. "I married you, not an incubator."
Murphy mutters something, too low for Gale to make out, and Miles laughs.
"I like you, alive and well, a lot more," Gale hears Miles tell her, pulling her chair closer. "Promise."
Deciding he's eavesdropped enough, Gale starts to back away, but ends up stepping on one of the squeaky floorboards, abruptly announcing himself.
Miles turns, lazy grin already hanging on his lips.
"Good morning!" He chirps, gesturing to the table. "I smuggled in breakfast."
He must've. There's enough bacon to feed several families on the plate. Gale's certain there's nowhere in Twelve he'd have found so much on such short notice.
It's a little frustrating. Even with a week of sneaking to the woods after work, trading well, Gale would never be able to get such a luxury, even half of it. Miles has gotten to live in ease for the past few years while they continued to struggle.
When Gale doesn't budge, just stares at the food, still processing the stack, Miles' grin wanes.
"I just-I thought I should since we're kinda imposing on you…"
It isn't until Gale notices the worry in Miles' eyes that he shakes the shock off. Miles isn't rubbing his good fortune in anyone's face. He's trying to be kind, sharing what he has with his family. Just like they always have, always will.
"Looks good," Gale finally says, rubs a hand over his face and pretends to yawn. "Gotta shake the sleep off. Thought I was dreaming-seeing you in here."
Grin ticking back up, Miles nods.
"Yeah, I woke up confused. If Murphy weren't there I'd've thought I was in school still."
Nodding, Gale crosses to the table, drops into the chair opposite them.
Taking a plate, he piles it with bacon and biscuits he'd overlooked earlier. He's just noticed the jar of jam when he hears Madge come in.
"You made breakfast," she points out, still dewy eyed as she blinks sleepily at the kitchen, walks to the seat beside Gale and sets as Miles brings her a plate.
After a few minutes, once they've all got plates of bacon and biscuits, Madge starts talking.
"Do you have to go to the meeting today?"
Miles nods, taps his bacon on the plate. "Yeah, it probably won't last long though. We can't do much of anything until the Capitol gives us candidates for the job."
"I thought you picked?" Gale asks. Wasn't that what they were there for?
Miles snorts. "We're here to make it look like they give a damn what the Districts think. They'll give us a few Candidates, maybe, and we'll select the least awful."
"Maybe?" Madge frowns.
He nods. "Yeah, more likely they'll just give us a name and we rubber stamp it. All part of the game."
Of course, Gale thinks. Everything is an illusion with the Capitol. He should've known they wouldn't let even their own handpicked civil servants decide the fate of a district.
"It's okay though." Miles shrugs. "Things have been kinda...chaotic, since Snow died. His granddaughter is mean, but she's...not like Snow. No one is afraid of her, and it's-there's a lot of fighting for the top. Not real stable. So...there's a handful of people that are keeping things from falling apart, and they're the ones that'll be deciding who gets the position in Twelve."
Gale swallows his bite of rolls. "So...you trust these people?"
Because as far as Gale can tell, people from the Capitol are the opposite of trustworthy.
Miles snorts.
"Trust? No, no way." He bites into one of the biscuits and swallows. "But I do think they're invested in a quiet revolution."
Gale stares at Miles for a moment, rolling the world 'revolution' over in his head. Before he can ask anything, Madge has leaned in, expression tense, glancing around.
"Miles…"
He waves his hand.
"Don't worry, mom, no one is listening. I've checked." He sits back, scrubs his hands over his face, doesn't elaborate or notice Gale's confusion. "These people want to change things, bloodlessly, and with all the crap going down, they might just pull it off."
Gale scowls. "Quiet and bloodless doesn't sound like much of a revolution to me."
The fire that had burned in him when he was younger flares up, ready to fight, looking down on something as quaint as what Miles is saying.
It dies almost instantly.
A revolution, a real revolution, like the ones he'd imagined in his youth, would be costly. The ones that would suffer the most would be the ones least able to fight back.
The kids, Daisy and Wren, Madge…
He couldn't sacrifice them. Not for anything, even the dreams of his youth.
"It's a better option," Madge points out. "No carnage in the Capitol means no carnage in the Districts."
Miles nods, runs a hand through his hair, glances at Gale.
"Overly idealistic, huh?"
He's got that same fragile expression on his face Gale has seen on Madge's face a million times, anxious for a bit of validation, proof he's not being ridiculous.
Smiling, Gale shakes his head. "Now that Snow's six feet under, I'd say were due some idealism."
Miles face relaxes as he eases back in his chair, picks up a slice of bacon.
"There's a real chance the mayors will get to wield actual power, not just be puppets." He finally say. "Whoever gets saddled with this open mayor position is in for a lot of work."
#######
Madge watches as Miles buttons the cuffs of his shirt, glances around, smiles at her.
"I won't be gone too long," he tells her. "You're okay with Murph staying here, right?"
Nodding, Madge smiles, smoothes out his shirt at the shoulders. "Of course."
It'll be a good chance to get to know her. Assuming she can get her to talk.
His expression tightens and he nods. "Thanks, and, just...be easy with her. She's had a rough few months."
He doesn't elaborate, but Madge already has an idea.
Gale had filled her in on what he'd overheard before setting out for work.
"You think...you think she lost one?"
He'd nodded grimly. "That's what it sounded like."
It was a strange sensation, to imagine that Miles had gone through something so traumatic and she and Gale were unaware. He'd had a whole life they're not privy to, and Madge burns at the unfairness of it.
He's her child. She should know when he's hurting.
Still, she reminds herself, he's an adult. He's allowed to keep things, especially something so painful, to himself. She hopes he'll tell her though, someday.
For a moment, she thinks he might.
He gnaws on his lip, glances over her shoulder toward the hall, eyes bright. Then he nods, body easing.
"Thanks," he murmurs again, as Murphy comes through the door, a vest and jacket draped over her arm.
"These?" She asks, holding them out to him.
Uneasy expression gone, hidden under a lazy grin, Miles takes them from her and shrugs them on.
"What do you think? Dapper? Suave?"
Madge laughs as he spins, lifts the back of the jacket and shakes his butt for them.
Murphy buries her face in her hands, peeks out just enough to look at Madge, her face red between her fingers.
"Has he always been like this?"
Madge nods. "Since the day he was born."
Ignoring them, Miles checks his hair in the mirror one last time before nodding, happy with his reflection.
"Off to save the world," he tells them.
Madge forces a smile. It's a dangerous game being played under everyone's noses. These people in the Capitol are taking risks that have no guarantee of success.
Since Miles had mentioned the word revolution, even a silent one, her stomach has been gnawing on itself.
He's got so much of Gale in him, ready to take on the world, and it worries her more than she'd like to admit. Much as she'd like things to change, she doesn't want the danger. They've got too much to lose.
He kisses Madge's cheek, gives her a small smile.
"Don't worry about things, okay?" He tells her, voice just above a whisper. "Everything is gonna work out."
Much as she hopes so, she can't fight her worry. Not when the stakes are so high.
Still, she nods, forces a smile.
Satisfied for the moment, he grabs Murphy and gives her a long kiss before hurrying out the door.
Pink faced, Murphy looks at Madge, laughs nervously.
"Always like that?"
Madge snorts. "Always."
#######
Gale looks up from the mess of papers on his desk, new recruits coming to the mines in the fall, over at Sage, legs stretched out, propped up on a broken down box.
He comes to sit in Gale's office recently, to avoid the drama going on in the engineering corps. Something about one of the guys and someone's sister. Gale feels he's better off not knowing.
"It makes me appreciate Arlen and Ephriam," is all Sage had said on the matter.
Signing off on the last of one of the documents, Gale sighs.
All the other men that share the little room, their alleged office, are out, doing rounds and inspections, leaving the two of them with the cramped room to themselves.
The quiet has made his mind too active.
"There'll be a price to pay for him coming home, if he gets to stay," Madge had told him before he'd left for work, voicing her worries for Miles. "Everything has a price."
He'd apparently told her as much, during a midnight chat on the porch. It's shitty, but Gale knows it's the truth. Nothing comes free.
Between that and the supposed revolution simmering in the cracking Capitol, Gale's got too much to think about.
Finally, when the silence, the shuffling of papers and scratching of their pens, gets too suffocating, Sage lets out a long sigh.
"Do you think he's going to get to stay?"
Gale doesn't look up, just keeps his eyes down, pen still to the new stack of documents. It would be simple to answer yes, absolutely, but life has taught him better. There's a good chance all the worry knotting Madge up will come to nothing and Miles will be sent back to Four.
No Miles, no revolution, and Gale isn't sure that's the worse option. He hates himself for that.
Instead of bringing up the bleak, very likely reality, he looks up, smiles.
"I hope so."
Sage nods. "Yeah, me too."
He runs his tongue over his teeth, scoots closer, leaning on Gale's patch of desk.
"It won't come for free though," he whispers. "He knows that. I can tell. He's worried."
He's always been sharp, had Madge's sense for these things. It's scary at times how much of her crops up in him.
They're lucky Miles is the only one that got picked for the civil services.
Gale nods, rubs at his neck. "Yeah...your mom said something like that."
He doesn't elaborate, doesn't mention the people in the Capitol playing for a revolt, Sage will worry enough without the details.
For a moment Sage is quiet, drumming his fingers on the desk, eyebrows pulled together in thought. Then he takes a breath.
"I should stop worrying about it, right?" He smiles faintly, runs his hand through his hair. "I can't stop it, I can't change it, I can't...there's nothing I can do."
But it's still going to eat him up. It's his nature, as much as it's Madge's. He comes by it honest, and she's mentioned hating herself for it.
"There are worse things to be than anxious," Gale reminded her, whenever she mentioned her frustration that Sage had inherited one of her least favorite treats.
Poor Briar had gotten Gale's short fuse and foul mouth. If anyone should be mad about a bad trait being passed down, it should be him. His faults have caused them more trouble than her ever will.
Still, she's twisted herself up telling Sage not to let worry destroy his happiness and eat up moments like it has with her so often Gale can't help but hate it himself. Not them, but whatever's in their head keeping two of the best people he knows always on alert, worrying about things they can't control and hating themselves for it.
"Telling you to stop worrying would be like telling you to stop breathing," Gale finally says. "But just know that no matter what, we'll deal with whatever comes like we always do."
Weak smile forming, Sage nods. "Yeah, I know."
He sits back, drums his fingers on his thigh for a moment before sighing.
"I just hope it's not going to be as awful as I imagine.
Gale sighs. "Me too."
#######
"Fish guts?" Daisy asks, nose wrinkled up at the thought.
She and Briar had come by, as they always did, to drop the girls off before work. They'd stopped and sat when they spotted the bacon and biscuits, and Daisy had asked Murphy how she and Miles met.
Apparently, he'd been touring the cannery she worked in, and she'd tripped and flung a bin of fish innards on him.
"I'd pay to see that." Briar wipes tears of laughter from her eyes before adding, "I hope you got it in his damn hair."
Nodding, Murphy makes a grim expression.
"I nearly got handed over to the Peacekeeper for that."
Daisy frowns. "Miles was going to have you arrested for tripping?"
"No, not Miles," Murphy quickly shakes her head. "The foreman. Said it was assault on an official."
"Tripping?" Briar scowls. "Accidents happen."
Madge shakes her head. As much as her children have seen and know, they still can't comprehend just how easy things are in Twelve, how being overlooked has insulated them from the worst of the Capitol.
How much Madge's father had sheltered them.
"They whipped a lady for her pan dripping on a Peacekeeper's boot," Murphy softly tells them. "My sister and me were tossed in the tanks once for not clearing a net, and we were still in grade school. That's just how it is."
Briar and Daisy exchange wary looks as Murphy clears the table, excuses herself to go to the bathroom for a moment.
"I thought we were the shit hole," Briar mumbles, tapping her bacon for a moment before taking a bite. "That's as bad as the things Ephraim talks about."
Madge sighs, nodding her agreement as she picks up the now empty plate and sets it on the counter with the other dirty dishes.
Ephraim being around has opened their eyes to a lot of the awfulness the other District have to deal with. What illusions the Capitol creates to keep them in line.
How he even ended up as a Peacekeeper was a shining example of just how awful the Capitol can be.
He'd come by to meet Briar, go for a trip to the Hob, when Madge had found him staring at the television.
It had clicked on for a mandatory viewing, a Tribute from Ten had made a spectacular kill apparently, and they were discussing the moment in grisly detail with the boy's Mentor.
The interview wouldn't have even registered with Madge if he hadn't been there, watching it so closely. She tried not to watch coverage of the Games unless they were forced to in the square.
"Okay," Briar said as she came out of the bedroom, pulling her hair up, "I've got some of the girls' old dresses to trade with, maybe we can get a bite outta Sae."
Ephraim didn't respond though, didn't acknowledge her or make a comment about her hair or tell her she looked pretty, just stayed focused on the television.
Frowning, Briar looked first to Madge then to the television.
It wasn't anything exciting, not to them anyways, but Ephraim was oblivious to anything but what he was watching.
Looking at the screen, Madge squinted, read the name.
Ezekiel Rivers. Victor.
He was handsome. Tall with warm brown eyes and a friendly smile.
Madge didn't remember his Games, not a single detail, just that when he'd win they'd hailed him as the next Finnick Odair.
After that he was just one more pretty face filling Capitol tabloid television, a new lover every other week and a fashion icon.
When the segment finally ended Ephraim blinked, clearing his vision, before noticing them.
"Didn't hear you come in," he apologized, forcing a smile, leaning in and giving Briar a quick kiss.
"You a fan?" Briar asked, gesturing to the tv, eyebrows pulled together in concern as she took his hand, pressed it between hers.
For a minute he didn't answer, just seemed to weigh something in his mind before sighing, his lips ticking up at the edges.
"Biggest fan," he answered. He smiled sadly, jerked his head toward the blank screen. "My big brother."
That put an end to any plans of going to the Hob.
Instead they sat on the back porch steps eating ice cream while Ephraim explained how he ended up a Peacekeeper.
"My Aunt, she helped Zeke win," he told them. "She didn't want to, said he was better off dead, but mom, she begged her. Even after she told her all the bad things that might happen. Mom said they'd figure it out, she couldn't watch Zeke get murdered."
Madge couldn't say she wouldn't do the same. What mother could watch their child die if they knew a possible way out?
His aunt, whoever she is, has power, enough sway to manipulate the Games. She pulled strings, bribed, helped get Ezekiel Rivers home.
"She wasn't wrong about him being better off not coming home," he added, after telling them how his brother ended up a plaything of rich donors, passed around and abused.
Taking a breath, he'd slumped down further, elbows to knees as he tugged his hair.
"A few years later, they came knocking on our door, wanted to take me to the Capitol too."
Briar's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the step, her teeth grinding with each detail.
Ephriam squeezed Briar's knee, gave her a reassuring smile.
"Happens a lot, apparently, them coming after siblings of Victors. She had a hell of a time keeping them off Primrose Everdeen."
The thought of sweet Prim, being taken to the
Capitol, abused like so many Victors are, turned Madge's stomach.
What had been bargained away, who had made what sacrifice, Madge didn't know, and she wasn't sure she could handle knowing.
"I was fifteen."
He'd been polished and shined, given expensive clothes, then set loose in the Capitol with his brother. A test run of sorts, to gage his value, see if the people who wanted his brother's company would want his too. Unfortunately, they had.
He was handsome and personable, a perfect toy for them to enjoy.
"I never seen anyone spin so fast," Ephraim told them. "Zeke kept me safe those couple of days, but it coulda gone sideways quick."
His Aunt and brother had made deals after that, bargain until they found a way out, refused to tell him the price his safety cost them. They'd secured him a spot in the Peacekeepers, changed his last name to his mother's from before she'd married as added security, to keep anyone from piecing together who he was.
"I don't know what they did to keep me safe," he sighed, eyes pink with exhaustion. "Part of me never wants to know."
Because it had to have been a steep price. Every good thing has a price.
"It's a blessing and a curse to have someone love you that much," he added softly.
When the fireflies had started appearing, the sky darkened around them, he'd looked at them and smiled.
"But it brought me here, so...maybe it wasn't so bad."
Madge doubts his mother thinks that. She lost one son to the Capitol and the other to distance. It's a punishment Madge can't imagine.
It was a wish on the monkey's paw, twisted up in the worst way, that Miles had talked about.
"I thought maybe they'd go easy on Four, it being, you know, Four," Briar finally says, shaking Madge out of her memory.
It's one of the lap dogs, a Volunteer district, but not even that keeps it from being abused. The thought, the lie, that it receives special consideration, is one more way to keep the Districts pitted against one another.
"It doesn't matter," Madge finally says, setting in the seat beside her.
"No, I guess not," Briar grumbles, standing and pushing in the chair.
Daisy glances back over her shoulder, to the girls sleeping on the couch.
"They should sleep late." She cuts Briar a look. "Someone kept them up late."
Briar rolls her eyes.
"Ephraim was helping them catch fireflies." She makes a face. "Then they fell asleep on my bed and we had to move the little snots so we could have it."
Madge frowns. "Why move them? Don't they sleep in your bed all the time?"
She's complained about their wild sleep habits more than once, waking up with a foot in her face or an elbow in her side.
"Not with Ephraim over," Daisy tells her, shooting Briar a look.
Madge almost asks what difference that makes, then she remembers Gale so often complaining about waking with a bed full of kids, though he only complains because it ruins his chances at...
She grimaces, feels her cheeks warm, decides not to prod further. Maybe Briar was just saving Ephriam from getting kneed in the gut.
Grabbing a few biscuits, Briar mumbles a goodbye and hurries out the backdoor, Daisy following after, stuffing a few bacon strips in her bag for lunch.
Murphy turns back up a few minutes later, a bit pale, forcing a smile as she looks around.
"I'm sorry," she says once she realizes both Briar and Daisy are gone, wincing as she sits, pushes her glasses up. "The trip just-it made me a bit sick I think."
Madge nods, sets a glass of water in front of her.
"I've got some ginger. That helps sometimes."
She shakes her head, forces another smile.
"It'll pass."
Madge checks that the girls are both sleeping still, curled up on each end of the couch, before grabbing the tub and taking it outside and filling it in the rain bucket.
When she comes back in Murphy has a towel on her shoulder, ready to dry.
"So," Madge begins placing the dishes in the tub, "we'll go by the sweet shop later. That's where I pick up Sage's kids."
"You watch all of them?"
Madge nods.
"It's not as bad as it sounds," she tells her, handing off a clean plate. "The girls occupy themselves and Lawrence and Avery, the baby is still a little work, but he's actually better than he was."
Murphy grimaces.
"Oh I don't mind-that's not what I meant…" She smiles faintly. "I lived in the community home, with my sister, after our mom-I'm used to lots of kids...I just meant it's nice you watch them all."
Frowning, Madge hands her another plate.
"Your mom died and you went to the community home?"
Murphy nods.
"Got a fever, after she had my baby brother." She says softly. "Her husband didn't want us, just the baby, and neither did our sister-half sister-so we had no where else to go. My dad's family wanted to take us, but they had too many mouths to feed already."
Madge frowns. She can't imagine any of her kids letting their nieces or nephews be carted off to the community home. Gale, Vick, or Posey either. No matter the hardship, they'd fight to keep the kids with them. They're family, they stick together.
That clearly isn't a universal sentiment.
"It must've been hard," Madge finally says, "leaving your sister, after all you've been through together."
Smiling sadly, Murphy shakes her head.
"She died last fall. Caught something from the water after a flood."
It makes her decision to up and leave with little thought less abrupt. She wasn't abandoning anything so much as starting fresh.
"She would've wanted me to come here," Murphy finally adds, stacking the final plate. "She liked Miles. Wherever he's from has to be better than where I left."
It's a bit grim, but Madge nods just the same.
"I hope so."
#######
Sunday rolls around again and there's still no word from the Capitol directing the delegates.
Miles simply shrugs when Sage asks about it.
"I told you, the Capitol is in shambles since Snow died." He finishes setting a snare. "All the backstabbing and double dealing going on, it'll be a miracle if we get a candidate in the next month."
It's not really meant to be reassuring, but somehow it is. If those assholes are too busy fighting with each other, they can't be tormenting the Districts. They won't notice the plotting and planning going on right under their noses. Miles says as much as they wander the woods.
"If they're focused on each other, they aren't watching us," he tells them.
"A week after he died, they passed my proposal to issue fishing licenses to individuals, like they did before Panem." He pulls an arrow out, inspects it for a minute. "It's been pretty successful. Productivity is up, and that makes Capitol officials cream themselves with happiness."
Briar snorts, turns on the spot with her bow up, eyes scanning the woods.
"Imagine that. People work better when they aren't starving."
Miles grins over his shoulder at the.
"Yeah, well, try explaining that to people who've never been hungry a day in their lives."
Briar rolls her eyes, watches him adjust his arrow.
"You still know how to use that thing?"
He shrugs. "'Bout the find out, aren't we?"
Gale and Sage watch as he takes aim, lets the arrow loose.
It hits the squirrel, sends it to the ground with a thud.
They head to the lake after that, sit in the shade of the old tree as Miles explains licensing and quotas.
"Mayor Stahl in Nine is implementing a similar program. They have to charge for the licenses, obviously, but they set the prices low, and the inspection stations to verify the animals-fish, squirrels, deer, possums-create new jobs."
It's a bit idealistic, too good to be true, but coming from Miles, Gale believes it.
A small step, a quiet revolution.
"If I get installed as the Deputy Mayor here, like I am in Four, then I can try to get it implemented here."
Briar's grip on her fish slips and it flips back into the water as her head snaps to him.
"You're the Deputy Mayor of Four?"
He nods. "Yeah, one of five. It's a big District. Didn't I tell you that?"
Sage chuckles, rolls his eyes. "No, I'm pretty sure you didn't."
Shrugging, Miles casts his line.
"Deputy Mayor, southern harbor, Miles Hawthorne."
Sage lets out a low whistle and Miles snorts.
"I know, I'm impressive."
Gale sits back, crosses his arms and frowns. "Twelve's never had a Deputy Mayor."
It's small. They're lucky to get a magistrate.
Miles shrugs. "Things change."
He reels in a catch, laughs as the fish flops into Sage's lap and tangles in his line while Briar pulls out her knife and swears at them both for being useless.
Smiling, Gale closes his eyes, leans back on the tree.
Some things change.
#######
Madge squeaks as Gale comes up behind her, hands sneaking around her middle as he presses scratchy kisses to her neck.
"How were the woods?" She asks, turning and giving him a quick kiss.
"Bountiful," he chuckles, glancing out the backdoor, to where Madge spots the kids crowding around the porch, inspecting something.
"Murphy's filleting the fish," he explains. "Apparently, she's good at that."
"Imagine that," Madge laughs. Someone from Four is good with fish.
He reaches around her, snatches up one of the rolls, but before he can stuff it in his mouth, Scout runs in and grabs him by the leg. She looks up at him, lower lip puckered and blue eyes wide.
"Poppy, can you come play with us?"
Madge snorts. Games with the girls normally end with him being dressed in a yarn wig and jam lipstick. He doesn't look thrilled.
"Why don't you go grab Uncle Miles?" Madge suggests.
He's missed years playing with them, and Gale needs a break.
Scout considers it for a moment before nodding.
"Let me ask Jess and make sure," she finally says, hurrying off and shouting for her sister and cousin.
Gale sighs. "Quick thinking."
"Well you'd better hope Jess gives it her stamp of approval."
They really need to clamp down on Jessamine bossing her cousins around…
Before Madge can even say as much, Briar comes in the backdoor, flicking something that looks suspiciously like fish innards from her hair.
"Asshole," she mutters as she passes. "I heard Ephraim coming up the road girls."
Madge laughs as the girls repeat the scene from last weekend, all wrestling over each other to get to the door.
"Get back," she hears Briar scold them. "He's my damn boyfriend."
Gale grumbles, complaining under his breath that they never fight to let him in, and Madge laughs. She presses up on her toes and kisses his cheek.
"I'll fight to open the door for you," she tells him.
He pinches her side. "I'd rather you just fight to get my clothes off tonight."
Snorting, Madge kisses him again, mumbles against his lips, "Dirty old man."
"You hinting at a bath?"
Madge rolls her eyes, starts to tell him not so loud, when she hears Ephraim's voice.
Instead of a mellow 'Hello gorgeous' he sighs loudly.
"I'm apologizing in advance," he says, sounding a bit exhausted.
"For what?" Briar asks, right before Scout yelps and her little feet race into the kitchen.
"Gammy, there's a weird lady with Ephraim," she half whispers as she latches onto Gale's leg, gives Madge a worried look.
"Uh, hi?" Briar says, confusion clear in her voice.
Exchanging a wary look with Gale, Madge peeks around the corner into the living room.
Beside Ephraim is a tiny woman who ignores Briar's question and pushes past her, into the living room.
"Hey!" Briars snaps, indignant at being shoved.
Madge blinks, uncertain what, or who, she's seeing.
Her babydoll curls are gone, replaced with stick straight hair, the fluffy skirted dress is now a business like cut, but she's every bit as drenched in green as ever.
"This is my aunt, Birdy," Ephraim quickly explains, smiling awkwardly. "I'm sorry."
Rolling her eyes, Birdy looks Briar up and down before glancing over her shoulder at Ephraim. "You could do better, kid."
Briar scowls, mouth opening to say something, but Gale bets her to it.
"Get out," he growls, crossing his arms, grinding his teeth. "You can't just barge in uninvited."
She grins. "I think you're confusing me with a vampire, Dorothy. Victors don't need an invitation. I frequently don't have one."
"Shocking."
Birdy shrugs, then sighs when she spots Madge.
"Oh Madgie, I can't believe you let that," she makes a face, gestures to Gale, "that climb on you. Four times no less."
Briar steps between her and Gale, eyes narrowed.
"What do you want?" She looks at Ephraim. "What's going on? Why'd you bring her?"
Ephraim steps between them, makes a helpless gesture. "Do you think I got any say in this?"
Birdy shakes her head, stands on her toes and peeks over his shoulder at Briar. "No, no he did not."
Before a brawl can break out, Madge cuts in. "Birdy, what are you doing here?"
She can't imagine what she'd have to do in Twelve. The Games just ended, she should be out prepping the girl from Three's family. It bodes ominous.
"Wait-you guys know her?" Briar asks, nose wrinkling up as she looks first at Madge them to Gale.
"We've met," Gale growls. "Unfortunately."
Birdy laughs, flicks her eyes upward before looking at Madge.
"Don't worry, im not moving in. I'm here for him," she points over Madge's shoulder.
Turning, Madge finds Miles, Murphy and Daisy just behind him. They'd apparently heard the arguing and come to see what was happening.
"Miss me, cuz?"
Miles stares at her for a moment, an uncertain expression on his face. Then he sighs, smiles faintly.
"They sent you?"
For a moment Madge isn't sure what he means, then it clicks.
She's the Capitol liaison. The messenger they've been waiting on. She's who they've sent with the candidate's name.
How Miles knows her, Madge isn't sure, but he doesn't seem as hostile towards her as Gale. A bit wary, but not bubbling with dislike.
Birdy shrugs. "Nobody else wanted to come to this podunk hell hole."
Looking around, she spots the children, all huddled around a seething Gale.
"I gotta talk, so put those out." She gestures to the kids. "Let them go play in the pen or something."
She makes a shooting gesture.
"Go on, git."
"They're not puppies!" Briar snarls as Ephraim grabs her hand, keeps her from lunging.
Birdy huffs. "Yeah, puppies listen."
Shaking her head, she reaches in her battered bag, digs around.
"I've got a collapsible cattle prod in here somewhere, that'll get them moving."
Ephraim snatches the bag from her, hoists it over his head.
"You aren't-why are you carrying around a cattle prod?"
She crosses her arms, fixes him in a look. "How else am I supposed to go grocery shopping?"
Ephraim stares at her for a moment, a look of mixed confusion and horror on his face before he lets out a long breath, smiles weakly at Briar.
"I'm so, so sorry."
#######
The kids go in the backyard with Abilene, after she and Sage stumble in with Wren and the boys, to investigate the commotion. Gale thinks it's for the best. The less exposure they get to the witch the better.
Haskil starts crying while the girls are gathering up their chipped little tea set, and Abilene tries to shush him, eyeing Alameda warily.
"I'm sorry. He's just hungry," she apologizes, smiling weakly.
Gale starts to tell her not to apologize, Alameda is intruding on their family, but doesn't get the chance.
"Don't worry, I'm used to crying in my presence," she tells her, waving the baby's cries off. "But take him out back just the same. I'm not in the habit of repeating myself."
Nodding, Abilene herds the kids out, even a scowling Jessamine.
"Why do we gotta leave? It's our house," she grumbles.
"It's your grandparents' house," Alameda tells her, a wicked smile on her green lips. "And unless you want to lose your tongue, you'll get out."
"Don't threaten her," Gale snaps at her, stepping in front of Jessamine.
"It's not a threat, it's a warning. There's a difference."
Not from Gale's perspective.
"Birdy…" Lew hisses. "They're kids."
"I don't care who you are, you don't get to talk to her like that," Briar cuts in, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
Alameda rolls her eyes, not remotely impressed.
"Try and stop me."
Briar looks like she might, and Gale takes a step towards them, ready to help, but Lew intervenes.
"Put me down!" Alameda shouts as Lew traps her in a bear hug, pins her arms to her side.
"Not unless you start playing nice," he tells her as she squirms, makes frustrated noises, swears.
Finally, once she's scared all the kids, she stops, huffs irritably.
"Fine." She blows her bangs from her face. "Everyone keeps their tongues."
It's not quite what Lew had in mind, judging by his unimpressed expression, but he sets her on her feet just the same.
She shoots him a dark look as she smooths her dress out, adjusts her hair.
Lew sighs, looks around apologetically. "I took her knife, just so everyone knows."
Once the back door slams shut, all the kids are safely away, Gale turns his attention back on Alameda.
He frowns when he spots her, standing by the fireplace with something green in her hands.
It takes him a moment to realize it's her hair.
Carefully, she combs out a few tangles with her fingers, mouth turned down at she inspects it from another angle.
Her hair, her natural hair, is a muddy color, streaked with gray, plastered to her head. If he were feeling generous, he'd say she looked better without the wig. It softens her features, closer to human.
Seeing as she'd just threatened his granddaughter, though, he just scowls at her.
Finally she nods at the green thing before looking around, seemingly finally noticing everyone staring at her.
She glances up at her graying hair.
Plopping the wig back on her head, she shrugs. "Times a bitch."
Pulling out a compact, she clicks it open and begins making adjustments, glaring over the top after Gale grumbles about her wasting time.
"Stop bellyaching," she chirps. "I've got time in abundance and I'll waste it however I like."
Giving the compact one last look, she snaps it shut, looks down at the pile of yarn in the basket by the couch.
"You've got the candidate's name," Miles says, watching her closely as she picks up Madge's knitting.
"Yeah, y'all'll vote on it tomorrow."
She doesn't elaborate, just fusses with the needles for a moment before tossing the yarn back in the basket.
"I came by today to forewarn you."
Miles pales a bit, grips the edge of the chair so hard his knuckles turn white.
"It's Carver, isn't it?"
Gale isn't sure who Carver is, but by Miles' reaction, he isn't an ideal choice.
Alameda makes a face.
"That asshole? No. He actually died a couple of days ago. Avalanche." She looks at Ephraim. "And I had nothing to do with it."
He doesn't look like he believes her. Gale knows he doesn't.
He may not have seen her in a few decades, but he remembers her and her murder threats very clearly.
A little color comes back in to Miles' face and his grip loosens.
"You're getting to stay in this," she waves a hand around, makes a face, "delightfully rustic setting, by the way, so you're welcome."
Daisy makes a noise from her spot beside Sage, eyes wide as she grips his shirt sleeve. "He's really getting to stay?"
"That's what I said, isn't it?" Alameda grumbles, looks at Madge. "So just Miles got any brains, huh? That's a shame."
"If it's not this Carver person, and Miles gets to stay, what are you forewarning of?" Sage asks, ignoring her jab.
Alameda flops back, onto the couch, crosses her legs and tilts her head.
"His wish," she answers unhelpfully.
"Monkey's paw," Gale hears Madge murmur, her expression tense as her eyes flicker between Miles and Alameda.
Tapping her nose, Alameda nods.
"How bad?" Miles finally asks, his hand now clinging to Murphy's, his jaw tense.
Gale scowls. He's always hated feeling lost when Madge caught on to something and he's just trying to catch up. It's doubled with Miles around.
Briar clearly has the same sentiment. She glares between everyone before huffing.
"Is that a code? What paw?"
"The paw," Wren answers, eyebrows pulled together, trying to remember. "Like in Papa's story. Every wish has a price."
Gale doesn't know the story, but he understands things having a price. It's exactly what Madge had said that first morning, what Miles had told her and Sage has worried about.
The cost of a life, of something good.
Miles takes a breath, focuses on Alameda, repeats his question. "How bad?"
Alameda's green eyebrows rise.
"You tell me," she grins, green lips stretching over unnaturally white teeth, "Mayor Hawthorne."
######
AN2: I thought I could wrap this up in one chapter, but looks like it'll be two, though I'm not sure how long it'll take to get the last chapter done. It's that time of year. Not my best time.
That being said, the last chapter of this arc will be the last chapter of Kaleidoscope. There are so many stories to tell in this universe, but most, all of them really, would have to be from the perspective of the kids, and this is Madge and Gale's story. It's kinda veered off lately and been increasingly about the family, and I want to end it before it's too far gone. This chapter is a bit indulgent, and I apologize for that, but since I'm winding this story down I really wanted to drop in a few things. Hopefully its not too off-putting.
Anyways...I hope to have this tied up before Christmas, but that's being optimistic. With any luck, it'll be a satisfying ending, however long it takes to come together.
As always, thanks for reading y'all.