Chapter 19: A New Generation

From flat on my back on the sitting room couch, I can hear my husband talking to the young Peacekeeper who has been tasked with patrolling the Victors' Village. He's a kind, eager young man who has even taken to bringing our mail up from the post box planted at the entrance to the Village, and always says hello to Jonadab and Rye.

"Thank you very much, Officer…. Yes, she is due any day, and still looks so beautiful! We're proud as can be! Yes, of course…. Many thanks, Officer. Goodbye." I hear the door close and a moment later, Danny emerges into the sitting room, wiping a hand across his brow. "Man alive, it's hot!" It's early May, but the temperature today has spiked to over 90 degrees, bringing tidings of a barnburner of a summer to come. Smiling wanly, I try to look up at him over the bloated swell of my stomach. Danny bends down to nuzzle me; to show that I am not completely hopeless, I crane my neck and meet him halfway in a gentle kiss. Beaming at me, Danny rifles through the mail that Private Gregg brought up. A shriek comes from the direction of the kitchen, and Danny steps away momentarily to call into the next room. "Boys, boys, less noise, please. Jonadab, be gentle with your brother – Mommy is trying to rest!" I smile at my husband adoringly, observing him as he takes the letter opener and slices through one envelope. Extracting the contents, his eyes sweep the first few lines before he smiles.

"It's from Glen. Belle gave birth – a healthy baby girl!"

In my excitement, I try to sit up, but fail, wincing. "When?!"

Danny checks. "Yesterday, May 8th. Glen must have dashed this off quickly – wants to notify everyone." He keeps reading down to the bottom of the letter, and then turns to me with pride. "He and Belle want us to be the godparents."

I whimper emotionally. "Oh, yes! Write them back and say yes!"

"All right." Danny laughs. Setting aside one page, his grin broadens. "Glen even included a picture!" and passes me a small Polaroid. A tiny baby with Glen's hair color and eyes, but Belle's Merchant facial features, frowns precociously at the camera. I cannot help but giggle, even as my eyes turn glassy. "Oh…. she's beautiful…." I breathe. "She's gonna break a lot of hearts…."

"Yes," Danny chuckles low. "Yes, she will." He smirks. "She might even shatter this little one's heart." And he strokes my swollen stomach. When I blink at him, my husband only smirks. "Don't pretend I didn't hear you and Belle playing matchmaker with our own children at Wintertime. All good things in their own course."

I smile at him, amused, reaching up to kiss him again. As we're breaking apart, however, I cringe again as a pain shoots through my belly. My hand jumps to my womb. "Oh my gosh… oh my gosh, the baby's coming!"

Danny jumps back, eyes wide as he watches the couch cushions become stained with fluid. "OK, OK…. Um – the boys. Send them to my parents?"

"Mama and Daddy are closer," I get through tight teeth.

"Well, I can't leave you to drop them off!" Danny cries.

I smile grimly. "Good boy. You're learning." When Rye was born, Danny thought nothing else could possibly go wrong if he popped out for 'five minutes' to head down the hill and pass Jonadab off to his mom and dad at the bakery. I tore my naginata off the wall, threw it at his head, and thankfully missed. Had I not literally been in labor, my arena instincts might not have been dulled enough to prevent me from murdering the man I love.

Thinking fast, Danny lunges for our landline and knocks the phone off the wall so hard the cradle chips slightly. I try to sit up again and scream.

"What…. what are you doing?"

"I'm calling Merle at the Justice Building. He can swing by in that fancy government automobile of his. Kaydilyn can manage on her own for a couple of minutes." For the past three months since giving birth herself, my twin sister has been joined at the hip to our new niece, Madge.

I nod, managing to twist my body into a sitting position and get my feet on the floor. "Excellent plan." Another contraction nearly sends me crashing to the floor, and I howl in agony.

Danny glances at me, face turning white, turning back to bark at our brother-in-law on the phone. "And hurry, Merle!" He slams the receiver down, and scoops me into his arms, carrying me to our bedroom. On the way, he calls to our boys: "Jonadab, take Rye and go wait out on the front stoop. Uncle Merle's coming to pick you up!" Our eldest has the good sense to obey.

I feel dizzy. My vision is coming in and out. All I can think of is that with each problem solved, another one takes its place – chief among them being that the only Healer and midwife in District 12 is currently flat on her back, recovering from giving birth herself. As I feel the mattress of our bed greet me, I clutch to my husband all the tighter. "Don't leave me, Danny!" I weep.

"I'm not leaving you," he promises bravely. "You want me to call your folks?"

Whimpering, I nod. Pushing my sweaty, blonde bangs back from my forehead, he kisses my lips fiercely. "I'll be back." And he tears down the stairs to get back on the landline, and check on the boys to see if Merle has arrived.

Five minutes later, my husband is back, reporting that Mama and Daddy have been informed, and that Merle picked up the boys in the interim.

The sun sets in the west, bringing on evening. Deep night quickly follows. By the wee hours of the morning on May 10th, I am gripping the bedsheets in my fists and arching my back as I cry out in debilitating pain. Danny has been very conservative about what and how much of certain Capitol drugs he feeds me from our medicine cabinet. All the while, he takes each and every abuse I throw at him.

"This is the last one! I mean it, Dannel Mellark – I am never letting you touch me again – OH, MOTHERFUCK!" We Donner women can be known to have dirty, dirty mouths and a few more choice words unworthy of a Victor spew from my lips. Danny gamely catches them all.

The skyline is beginning to fade from navy blue to light grey when Danny announces, "OK….. I can seem him crowning! PUSH, Maysie! I love you!"

Snarling and with a mighty shout, I give the greatest heave I can muster. I didn't feel even this drained of strength in the finale of my Games as my third baby slides out of me.

He is big, strong and squalling, with tufts of blonde hair already on the top of his head, forming a sort of crown. His eyes are scrunched tight against the harsh glare of our nightstand light, but I predict that when they open, they will be the most brilliant blue, like both his parents.

Danny washes our youngest son in the bathroom sink and then crosses back to me, the baby swaddled and he passes him off to me.

"Oh….." I breathe, taking my baby boy in my arms and rocking him. "He's gorgeous….. Hi, Peeta. Hi, Peeta Haymitch. Mommy and Daddy have been waiting to meet you…."

"Peeta Haymitch?"

I glance up at my husband's query, and nod. I had gone back and forth on possible middle names for this baby for a long time, and finally decided to honor my first, lost love. I've never brought it up with Danny (though I probably should have), because I was afraid of what he might say.

So I am floored when the man I married declares: "I like it."

I cock a ruffled eyebrow. "You don't mind?"

"Of course not." He smiles at me meaningfully. "Anybody who loves that strongly once can do it again. I've seen it." And his gaze becomes besotted with love.

Beaming, my breath hitching with tears, I yank his face down to mine and kiss him thoroughly. "I love you," I murmur, voice strangely hoarse.

"I know."


Dolly, and my two Merchant tributes (a first for me) are waiting in the armored car to take us down to Donner Train Station (renamed after me following my Victory). We have to depart for the opening of the 58th Hunger Games in fifteen minutes.

Another first for me is needing to say goodbye to all of my children. Specifically, to say goodbye to my newborn son.

I was still pregnant with Jonadab when leaving for the Games four years ago, just before he was born. And when Rye was a newborn, his colera allowed me to keep him with me in the Capitol, though I did have to put in a medical request for a temporary passport, signed off by President Snow. At not quite two months old, Peeta will find it hard to be apart from me…. and I from him.

"OK: breastmilk bottles are in the freezer. You know all their bedtimes, and – Mmmm…." I purr into Danny's lips as he unexpectedly cuts me off with a kiss. I melt into it for a moment before drawing away. "What was that for?"

"To shut you up. Don't worry," Danny smiles at me. "We'll be fine. You be good now, silly woman."

I smirk at him. "You too. I won't be long." Mashing his face in my hands, I kiss Danny again, and reaching out to my baby boy, I tickle his chin. "Be good for Daddy now, Peeta – won't be long!" And I reluctantly turn away to leap into the armored car.

Once on the train, I enter the dining car, nodding to my tributes. Sweeping the table, I blink when I see a young lady of probably 20 seated with Dolly at the table. "Oh. I wasn't aware we had a guest."

"Oh, yes, Miss Donner, actually, that is something I wanted to talk to you about." Dolly rises from her chair, and the young lady follows her.

I turn to my two Merchant charges. "We just need to discuss a few things. Be back in a few." We three ladies step over into the next car. Dolly then introduces the younger gal.

"Maysilee, this is Euphemia Trinket."

The young lady curtseys. "Call me Effie."

"She'll be shadowing me over the course of the Games."

"An escort-in-training?" I guess intuitively. "But what for?"

"Well," Dolly starts in, smiling sadly. "I wanted to inform you earlier and in writing, but what with the papyrus shortages in Seven…. I'm retiring at the end of this summer, Miss Donner. Effie here will be shadowing me to take over the position."

Surprisingly, I feel my eyes fill with tears. Some of my more rebellious Victor friends say it's never a good idea to get close to our escorts – Capitol sheep, Chaff calls them – but after 25 years with our district and close to a decade of that time with me, Dolly has become like a second mother to me. "Oh, Dolly, you know we'll all miss you."

"I know," she murmurs. "And I just have to say – Miss Donner, out of all the Victors…. you're my favorite." She hugs me warmly before turning back for the dining car. Effie now steps forward and presents me with a familiar white envelope, perfumed by roses. I turn it over in my hand and only when my new escort is gone do I let out a frustrated sigh. Another sponsor to fuck me and have his way with me…. and just after I've givien birth, too.


"Fuck, baby…." Aurelius Cross groans, and we thrusts into me all the harder.

"I'm not your baby…." I mutter under my breath. Even if I shouted it, though, he couldn't hear me over the sweaty slapping of our skin and the thumps of the dresser against which I'm braced. I stare at myself in the mirror and try to imagine that it is Danny or even Haymitch screwing me as I shift my wide stance, spreading my ass cheeks further to let this sponsor take me from behind.

Another fierce slam, a weakened second, then a feeble third before Aurelius ejaculates inside me with a groan. I slowly stand and pull my skirts back up over my hips; behind me in the mirror, I can see Aurelius zipping up his pants around his flattening and flabby erection. Turning to him, I allow him to kiss me on the cheek in farewell – hopefully, letting him screw me like this will make him charitable enough to fund my tributes past the Bloodbath for once. He forks over a wad of sesterces.

"Go through each bill – make sure I didn't miscount in my payment," he whispers in my ear. I frown at the unusual generosity. Capitol sponsors aren't known for being conscientious about their money. As Aurelius leaves the hotel room, I thumb through each and every Capitol note until I come across a blank piece of paper, folded lengthwise to look like another sesterce bill.

Bowing my head low, I fish the folded paper out of my cash and open it. There is a jumble of letters and numbers written on there, addressed to MY DISTRICT 12 QUEEN.

Queen…. It's a clue. A chessboard cipher.

Once I get back to the penthouse suite, I steal into my private chambers and sit down at the provided writing desk to decode it, drawing up an 8 by 8 square and placing one letter into each square. It's a message from Chaff, and the final intelligence reads:

NEW UP-AND-COMER GAMEMAKER BROUGHT ON – ONE OF US. WANTS TO EVENTUALLY REACH THE TOP. STAY THE COURSE. BURN THIS ASAP.

Scanning the message again, I toss it into the fire. I frown, rubbing my temples. I have nothing new to reply to my District 11 friend. The people in Twelve are quite content with my brother-in-law as Mayor. And with how drunk he is, Cray has become comfortable enough in what he views as a cushy assignment that he's largely left us alone, even allowing an illegal black market to flourish in the Seam largely unchecked.

We may be plodding steadily down the road towards revolution – on a date to be determined – but I don't know if I can get Twelve to catch up…..


I step off the train onto District 12 soil disappointed, but at the same time, more buoyant than I have been in past years. Another loss, both tributes dead…. though, encouragingly, my girl rode the Cornucopia bloodbath gauntlet well. She even made the Final Eight – the first District 12 tribute to do so since Haymitch, Beech and I all accomplished the feat together. Tragically, she was hacked to death by the boy from 10 and eventual Victor, Roan Tully, not long after.

It is moments like this that I wish Victors were provided cars, among all the other luxuries we are allowed. I could always pay a call to Merle and ask him to drive me up to the Village, but I don't want to bother him; no doubt he is busy. But I am so anxious to get home to my boys, that I begin speed-walking through Town with a laser-focus on reaching the Seam and eventually the hill beyond.

I am so focused on my power-walking, in fact, that I am not paying attention to where I am going until I bump into a broad man coming out of Cartwright the postmaster's shop.

"Oh, excuse me, I'm sorry…." I blink rather rapidly upon seeing who it is. "Oh, hi, Mr. Foley!"

Barnabus Foley greets me politely, but curtly. I haven't seen my dad's old friend in a couple of years; I had heard from Daddy that Barnabus has begun to step away from the Apothecary, letting his son – Belle's brother – take over the family business. From the way Barnabus only engages with me cordially, he clearly has still not forgiven me for my intercession on behalf of his daughter's marriage.

"Congratulations on becoming a grandfather!" I chirp happily. "Belley forwarded us a birth announcement and picture – I think it signaled me to go into labor with my littlest one myself!" I laugh.

Barnabus doesn't join in on the mirth. My own grin fades, becoming strained. "She's pretty, isn't she? Katniss?" I prod, prompt.

Barnabus is now pointedly refusing to look at me. "I wouldn't know," he finally manages coolly. "I haven't seen her."

I nearly reel back in shock. Here he is, with his first grandchild already rapidly approaching three months old, and…. "So you have yet to meet the first-born of your own daughter? Your grandbaby?" My face roils with disgust, and my voice freezes into ice. "Excuse me…." And I dash past him so he can't see my tears of rage and grief.

My swirling emotions fly me back to my mansion and my sweet little family in record time. Danny gamely holds me as I cry my eyes out, seated at our kitchen table. He passes me a plate of cheese buns – my favorite, and fresh from the oven, which I eat glumly. At first, my patient and understanding husband thinks my grief is about the Games – it was a harder year for me than most, with a tribute in the Final Eight – but then I explain to him about encountering Belle's father in the street.

"How… how could he be so heartless as to not want to know his own granddaughter?" I sob. "Panem above, I feel so horrible for Belle, and for Glen…. Poor little Katniss…."

Danny steals an arm around me. "She'll have plenty of other people to love her. I'm sorry to say that bigotry can be a very powerful force, even around here. Class warfare has always been present in Twelve, and it isn't like the Peacekeepers have tried to do anything to stop it…." His speech is bordering very close to seditious, and I shush him, warning him to be careful. With my Victor's mansion being bugged, we are being recorded and watched all the time.

It's hard enough with Chaff's pressuring of me, not to mention the major conflicts of interest I have, being related by marriage to the Mayor, our district's Capitol representative. An almost lulling Peacekeeper regime that pretty much leaves us in peace. But if we can't even get people in Twelve to unify despite class lines, so long as the Barnabus Foleys of the world exist…. well, what hope do we have of instigating a rebellion anyway?

I feel my husband pushing little Peeta into my arms, and smiling through a sob, I cuddle my baby close. I try to imagine a world better than this one. Where there are no Hunger Games and people do not care where you were born or who you marry.

A world where Danny, our children and I could be safe.