"There's an old saying about those who cannot remember the past being condemned to repeat it. But those of us who refuse to forget the past are condemned to relive it."― Emily Thorne
Of all the things she hated about Panem, Reaping Day was at the top. Being a mentor didn't make it any easier. Rather than being lost in the sea of faces, she would be forced to ride the swells of anxiety and fear emanating from the crowd until they crested in the names of two new tributes.
Katniss Everdeen refused to dwell on the agony of hearing her sister's name being called. One slip out of thousands should have put the odds firmly in Prim's favor. Instead, Katniss looked on in horror as her tiny Little Duck made her way to the stage, smiling bravely as she tucked her shirt into the waistband of her skirt.
"No!" A shrill scream split the silence and she wondered what guardian angel had come to Prim's aid. "No! Prim! I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" It wasn't until Peacekeepers flanked her, each with a hand on her shoulder, and Gale led Prim away that Katniss realized it had been her the whole time.
She never expected to win. She never considered that the Games truly began only after a Victor was crowned. Haymitch began her education before she took the stage for her final interview with Caesar. Six months later, others brought the point swiftly home that for her, for them...you never got off the train. Each new year, the same story began anew.
"Welcome, welcome," Effie Trinket's signature greeting echoed around the square. From her seat beside Haymitch and the Mayor, Katniss winced. A Quell year meant that everything was amplified, including Effie's exuberance. Her hair was a towering mass or fluorescent curls perfectly matched the delicate butterfly wings that made up her dress. She stood out like a beacon on the stage as she launched into a breathless exhortation of the honor of representing District Twelve in the third Quarter Quell. Giving Katniss a fond glance, Effie wondered aloud if they could possibly surpass the excitement of last year and Twelve's first ever volunteer.
"Let's find out," she trilled. "This year, it'll be gentlemen first." Her hand hovered over the glass bowl before descending and snatching up a slip. "Peeta Mellark!"
The crowd parted and a familiar blond head came into view as he made his way to the stage. Katniss forced herself to keep her face impassive but inside, her stomach knotted. Not him, she silently begged the indifferent sky above. Please, anybody but him. In spite of her pleas, the baker's youngest son ascended to the stage and faced the crowd. Haymitch shifted beside her but his expression didn't change. Katniss buried her hands in the folds of her skirt to hide their shaking.
"And now for the girls," Effie continued, oblivious to the tension that wrapped the square in silence. One Merchant being reaped was unlikely but two was unthinkable. She reached in and plucked out a name. "Who will it be?" Slowly unfolding the paper, she let the anticipation build, playing to the camera and the Capital audience no doubt glued to their screens. "Representing District Twelve in the Quarter Quell is...Primrose Everdeen!"
"No! Prim!" Even the Peacekeepers froze at the strident cry. All eyes turned to their newest Mentor as she bolted across the stage. Elbowing Effie away from the microphone, Katniss stared straight at the camera and declared, "I volunteer! There's nothing that says I can't! Take me!" She shook her head frantically at Prim, who stood frozen at the foot of the stairs, her eyes wide and tear-filled. "Tell them, Haymitch! I volunteer!" Katniss didn't take her eyes off the camera as she called to her mentor.
The old man waivered but joined her at the podium. He exchanged a quick glance with Effie, who shook her head in disbelief. The Mayor half rose and then sat back down as he unfurled the scroll in his lap...the Treaty of Treason which laid out the rules of the Games. He shook his head, looked at Effie and then Haymitch in consternation and bent over the document again.
"Prim, go back." The quiet whisper might as well have been a shout in the ensuing quiet. Peeta Mellark didn't notice as he gestured to tiny girl hovering on the steps. "Go on. Go find your mom." No one moved to stop her as she covered her mouth with both hands and then darted into the throng, sobbing as she ran.
Mayor Undersee finally found his feet and approached the microphone. "We have a volunteer," he announced. "Although Victors are exempt from the Reaping, there's nothing in the Treaty that forbids them from going in again if they so choose. Katniss," he faltered as he looked at her, "join Peeta so that we can finish this up."
She nodded gratefully and then took her place center stage, avoiding any contact with the youngest Mellark. She could see Haymitch glaring at her but kept her eyes stubbornly on the crowd. There would be hell to pay later on the train, she knew, but she couldn't think about that right now. The only important thing was that Prim wasn't going into the Arena. A quiet part of her still quailed at the thought of Peeta Mellark as a Tribute but that was overwhelmed by the need to keep Prim safe. Haymitch could worry about Peeta when the time came. Katniss could take care of herself. After all, she'd been here before