Song Suggestion: Talos—"Bloom" and Talos—"Tethered Bones"

Thank You: slightlytwisted84, 3vlee, PainAndPanicReportingForDuty (for two reviews), HeyBirdy, Guest, Guest, pandasforever18, Guest, Guest, angelgirl818, KAREN, ShootingStar96, Sandraanataliaa, Guest, erstott2012, Obscure-Reference-Girl, TheFlamingArrows, alicat111fun, Guest, and Prettyprincess45.

A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus. There are two reasons for this:

1. I noticed an error in some notes. A big freaking plot hole. Before I could write anymore, I had to figure out how to solve it. The solution came to me suddenly a few weeks ago, and it just seems to fit. Since then, I've been rewriting my outline for later chapters, and I'm so excited for where this story is going.

2. I'm pregnant! And those of you who have been pregnant know this: 1st trimester blows. I'm such a wimp with sickness, especially nausea. Now, usually, I can write through whatever turmoil/ stress is thrown my way (I wrote one of my chapters in a hospital bed recovering from heart surgery), but nausea debilitates me. There was no way I could write these past few weeks, since every moment was spent surviving my days and trying not to barf every few seconds. (BTW, whoever coined the term "morning sickness" had obviously never been pregnant. It's really all day sickness. For months. Yes, it sucks.) But now I am coming out of my first trimester and feeling so much better already.

An Omen of Death

"Wake up, Prim," someone said. She felt a warm hand on her cheek. "Get up quick. You can't do this. It's bad for the image."

She opened her eyes and met grey ones, familiar ones. They reminded her of home, of the soot that filled the air and covered everything.

"Am I dreaming?" Prim asked.

He helped her into a sitting position. Effie Trinket stood next to a leaning Gale. Her heels clicked against the ground as she shifted her weight continuously, a nervous gesture.

"If only we could wake up from this nightmare."

"But you're dead?" She exclaimed.

"Am I?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

He held out his hand from her to stand. She took it and wobbled upwards.

"It's good to see you again, little duck." His smile was lopsided and wide and everything she missed. It made her ache inside, with love and loss, at everything that came between their easy relationship. It was too much, she couldn't control herself anymore. She gave a cry and jumped into his arms, burying her face into his chest, rubbing her face against the rough home-spun cloth of her shirt, soaking it with tears.

"I missed you," she mumbled, unsure if he could hear her and uncaring if he did or didn't. Words didn't matter anymore. He was the undead, rising from the grave, and she clung to him as if he'd rot back into the ground. His lips touched her forehead.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone."

It was at that moment she released him, staring up at him in disbelief.

She noticed the crowd out of the corner of her eye, though they were inconsequential to her at the moment. She knew how their reunion looked like from the expressions on the children, especially the girls. They stared up at the stage as if this was the best, most tragic, love story ever told.

How dare you volunteer, her mind hissed, unable to make them exit her mouth. The grave would claim him again. Cato's sword would take his head off. How could he survive against experience, against trained brutality? Prim knew the lengths to which Cato ensured his victory. The sweat and blood payments he made to the God of War. He had offered up his soul long ago. How could Gale, a man more comfortable with trees and nature, more suited to digging his nails into wet soil, overcome the game of death they were about to enter?

He wouldn't. And neither would she. Prim was certain on both accounts.

Before Prim could voice her outrage, another voice called from the crowd.

"Get that dirty creature off the stage. He's not of age and he's not a victor; he can't volunteer." A peacekeeper came into view, one she didn't recognize. Though by his badge, she understood him to be in charge. He held out a gun, a real one, not a stun gun, and pointed it at Gale's. A red light exited the weapon and stuck itself to Gale's forehead. Gale stilled, but he did not move off the stage.

"Under whose authority? This book shows I have every right to volunteer" He held up the ancient book into the air. "See chapter 5 section 7 line 17. It says here that any person can volunteer as long as they are of the same age or younger than the oldest person going into the games. It is an old law, but it hasn't been overturned. It is here if you want to see."

The Peacekeeper frowned and then he gave a slight twitch of his hand. The gun exploded. Prim screamed and ducked. A cloud of white foliage fell down on her, a rain made of feathers. It took her a moment to realize that the peacekeeper had shot the book out of Gale's hand and not Gale himself. Prim did not get to experience relief before the red dot was once again marking his forehead.

"What book?" The Peacekeeper taunted, "I don't see a book, but I do see an escaped fugitive. Your cell has missed you, and this time I plan on making it extra—"

A beeping stopped him mid-sentence. The Peacekeeper demeanor changed in a heartbeat, glancing at his vest in astonishment, as if such a thing had never happened before. Several buttons lined the right side of his uniform, and the yellow one was lighting up. He reached up and bushed it, pressing a button on his ear.

The space around them was eerily silent. A bird swooped down, chirping its pleasure, but no one noticed. Every eye was held on the scene, and every breath was held, afraid to set anything off.

The peacekeeper gave a concentrated look, and Prim realized he was listening to something she couldn't hear. His hand was on his ear piece, pressed tight against it. Even from here, Prim saw the tense raised lines of veins racing down his arm.

He nodded sharply.

"Yes, sir," he whispered once, and then a second time, "Yes sir."

The yellow light on his chest stopped beeping. The Peacekeeper raised his eyes, landing on Gale.

"It's your lucky day," and then he smirked maliciously, "or unlucky day. You're wish is granted. Congratulations, you are allowed to get slaughtered in the arena. My only regret is that I was not able to do the deed myself. But, believe me, it will be very gratifying to watch you die."

Prim glanced at Gale. He didn't look triumphant. Despite this, the announcement caused a roar from the crowd, the likes of which she had never seen. The first rows clapped and screamed their names. The older generations watching raised two fingers in salute, the same they did for Katniss. A sign of respect. It wasn't for her though, it was for Gale.

"I can't do this," Prim whispered.

"Yes you can," Gale promised, and he gripped her hand hard, "I'll be your strength."

In one forceful motion, he thrust their joined hands into the air.

Ten Minutes Later

Peacekeepers herded them to a building and tore them apart. Prim gripped him hard, but she stood no chance. Gale gave her a nod, as if to say all was going to be okay. But it wasn't. It really wasn't.

They marched her up the steps. The heat of the day oppressed her, wanting to suck her to the floor. In the building, the day was even hotter. Sweat trickled down her neck by the time she reached her room. They threw her in, none too gently. Then they left, leaving her all alone. Several chairs were in the center of the room.

Prim sat in a chair, gripping the plastic sides, trying to get comfortable. Prim tried to forget that she followed in her sister's footsteps. At one point, Katniss waited here by herself. She listened close, attempting to hear her ghost.

It must have been only a few minutes, when the door creaked open. Madge popped her head in.

"Hello, Prim," she said.

"Hello," Prim managed back, though she wasn't sure how she even got that much out.

Just like in their past, they didn't say much beyond that. Madge sat in front of her for a moment, and when nothing else could be said, she rose to go out.

"I helped him, you know—Gale. We scoured our old library, the old laws, for some way to save you. I've never seen him so determined. He knew they would put you in, though I didn't believe him." She stopped for a moment as if to collect herself, "After you left, he... well, he was reckless. He got caught in the storehouses and sent to prison, but he got out. He said he promised to keep you safe."

"Thank you," Prim said in a quiet voice, "For being a friend."

Madge gasped back a cry and nodded. Neither of them were good at this...these goodbyes. Both their personalities were the type to avoid such confrontations. She opened the door, but before exiting, she turned back around.

"He loves you," she said, "Sometimes I believe just as much as Katniss. He believes you to be his responsibility, but it's more than that. It's more than a promise. He cares for you, more than he allows himself to show. Just... be careful okay. Try to stay alive."

With that, she left, leaving Prim to wonder at her remarks.

Five Minutes Later

Her mother was next, followed close by Brutus. They opened the door, and then a couple of Peacekeeprs tried to keep Brutus out. They stood in front of him with guns.

"You are not authorized to go in there."

"And which one of you whelps are going to stop me?" Brutus growled.

One of the guards gulped, thinking better of ordering around a victor. But the other stood steadfast in his opposition. It didn't last long, before the guard could blink, Brutus picked the guard up and threw him aside like Coral did her toys. He banged against a wall, sliding down into an unconscious state.

"Next person to stand in my way won't be so lucky."

Despite the fact the the peacekeepers held both guns and stun guns, they backed off, finding the fight not worth it.

Her mother was a wreck. Tears streamed down her face. She threw herself into the room.

"My baby, my baby, my baby. They want to kill my baby."

She collapsed. Prim went to her side, but Brutus was there just as quick, picking her up by the shoulders. He held her up to look in her eyes.

"Don't you dare let yourself go into darkness, you hear me. Don't be pathetic. Your daughter needs you. Now I'm going to set you down, and you are going to kiss her and tell her that everything will be alright. Between me and nature boy, we'll get her out of that arena without a scratch."

This seemed to calm her mother. He set her down. As he told her, she came over and kissed her cheek, hugging me tight against her.

"You'll be alright."

It took everything out of her. After the brief show, she sat back down in a chair, despondent and quiet.

Prim's eyes snapped up to Brutus. He stood looking at her, examining her, with his head cocked to the side.

"It's going to be difficult, but I'll find a good angle."

"What do you mean?"

"It means, little girl," he said with a smirk, "I'm going with you. Someone has to be a mentor, and since you have none, anyone can step in. The ineptitude of this district is surprising. Besides," he gave a lopsided smirk, "I've always wanted to give the games an upset."

Twenty Minutes Later

Her mother followed her and Brutus out the building on the way to the train station. The peacekeepers let her, keeping the distance, despite it being a breach of protocol.

The train was waiting, black and glittering in the sun. Prim had to put her hand on her heart, trying to stem the sudden shock of pain she felt. The last time she saw a Capitol train in the manner was the time Coral was torn from her arms.

Prim tried not to think of the little girl. There was nothing she could do to save Coral. Prim was stuck in a labyrinth where most the dead ends led to death. She could only hope Persephone was being a good mother.

"It's time," Brutus told Prim, "Say your goodbyes."

Brutus was never a gentle man, and nothing had changed. His sympathy ended when he became her mentor. From now on, he would "whip her into shape." Or so he said, Prim didn't think anything he said or did would help improve her chances.

Prim held on to her mother for a time, but it did nothing but prolong the goodbye. Prim tore herself away before she got more emotional. Her mother seemed to be withdrawn into herself, already a shell.

"Brutus, my mother—"

"Rory will take care of her. Same as the baker." His mouth tightened into thin lines.

They walked onto the train, leaving her mother to stand like a ghost.

"Brutus..." Her mother said, suddenly awakening, as if she realized that another person was leaving her. "Don't—"

The door wooshed shut on her words. Brutus clenched his fists and began walking away.

"Why did you not say goodbye?" Prim asked, suddenly angry at his coldness.

Brutus looked up sharply.

"In my world," he said, "a goodbye is final. Learn this. Very soon it will be your world as well."

A Few Minutes Later

When Brutus and Prim entered the dining cart, they found Gale sitting in a chair in front of a plate of food piled to the top.

"Is this real?" He asked in wide-eyed wonder.

Prim had forgotten how overwhelming wealth could be when exposed to it, how unnecessary: the gleaming furniture, the tink of silverware on china, the fragility of a glass in the hand. Tin plates held food just the same. A roughhewn pine table did the job just the same.

However, Gale moved past his astonishment and mild disgust quickly. He dug into the food like a starved animal, finishing off the plate in less than five minutes. So engrossed in his hunger, Gale didn't realize that Prim was in the same room, watching him gorge on the food. After he finished, he gave a sigh, grease from a turkey leg gleamed on his lips and chin. He was wild, Gale was, untamed, not meant for delicate things.

The sight pained her. The idea she could lose him again overwhelmed her. The relief she felt when she first saw him transformed into anger.

Prim snapped. She reached over to the nearest fragile thing, a wine glass. She picked it up and slammed it into the wall.

Effie Trinket reacted first. She gasped in outrage.

"Primrose that is a vintage piece!"

Gale's head snapped to hers, his eyes still wide, but this time in surprise and confusion.

"Prim—" he started. She didn't let him finish. She smashed another glass.

"You're going to die." Prim said, "After being so happy to see you alive, you're going to die!"

"Death hasn't caught me yet, and I intend to stay quicker than it." Gale answered, brushing off her concern.

"Don't get too cocky, boy." Brutus said. He held a small piece of paper in between his pointed and middle fingers. "A Peacekeeper handed this to me before boarding. It's meant for you, and I don't think it's a friendly welcome. These are usually omens of death."

"Is that from President Snow?" Prim asked, though no one bothered to answer her. Of course it was. Blood red wax held the paper together, and it had the shape of a rose imprinted on it.

Gale took it. His face lost his typical carefree expression. He slid his fingers under the seal and broke it.

He opened it slowly and read it, once, twice, three times. His eyes flickered up and down becoming harder with each revolution.

"We'll see about that." He stated, he turned to Prim, his grey eyes narrowed, "I made your sister a promise, little duck, and no one, not even the damn president, can prevent me from completing it." He stopped and breathed a moment before throwing down the paper on his plate, discarding it with his other trash. In a rush of movement, he turned on her. "My promise was final, and I will uphold it even if I have to take apart the whole world brick by brick to do it."

He stormed out of the room. Prim went to the table and picked up the piece of paper. She held it up and read it aloud.

"If a man wants to die, who am I to deny him?" Her voice shook as she spoke. "Try all you want, the bird shall fall from the sky, and the river shall be filled with blood."