There was an interval of a few months, between Reading the Card, and the Reaping. In that time, the District Twelve Team trained hard; living like careers. Peeta had sunk every bit of money and food he had into arranging teachers, survivalists, and anyone else who could help. Mama Everdeen put them on a diet that only a Victor could actually afford; and they all put on muscle.

Peeta had started their training by pouring every drop of booze Haymitch possessed down the drain, and paying off every brewer in the District to cut him off. Haymitch had made a legitimate attempt to kill Peeta for it every other week; but Peeta had learned enough hand-to-hand from Johanna to handle Haymitch, at least while he was drying out.

Johanna hadn't so much as given Peeta a saucy look since the announcement, but if she was trying to get a little distance from him, or just repressing the emotions, Peeta couldn't say. He was glad for it, focusing on pure survival for the first time in his life.

They'd tracked down Peeta's old wrestling teacher; and Johanna had bribed one of the Peacekeepers for hand-to-hand training. She had never stopped her combat training; but Peeta needed to learn more than wrestling. Every Tribute in the next Arena knew each other's skill sets. Johanna taught Peeta how to throw knives and axes, Gale taught everything he knew about Archery and bushcraft; Peeta gave wrestling and camouflage lessons. None of them were able to properly master each other's primary skills, but it was better than nothing.

For all they had been through, Johanna and Peeta were both young enough to be at their peak. Haymitch was older, larger, and cold sober for the first time in decades. Solidly built, and nursing a serious grudge, Haymitch had no problem sparring.

And Johanna was surprised to discover that Peeta was throwing himself into the sparring matches with some ferocity. More than she had seen from him before. Even in the school wrestling competitions, Peeta had deliberately been holding back. He wasn't anymore.

And with three days until the Reaping, Johanna knew why.

"He's going to volunteer, isn't he?" Johanna said quietly.

"I think he is." Haymitch nodded, not liking it either.

Johanna looked sick. "Ever since I got here, I've been telling him that he can't stop some poor kid being dragged into the Arena, no matter how much he punishes himself. It now seems that he can, after all."

"And if he dies in there, he won't have to Mentor anyone. Ever." Haymitch agreed. "To Peeta, that's a win."

"When I first met Peeta… I did my best to shock him, put him on the back foot… He blushed so easily. I thought to myself: This kid is never going to survive his first year as a Victor. I knew on the spot that they'd chew him up and $#!^ him out." She looked at Haymitch. "Dice are rolling, Haymitch. Peeta moved the needle more in a year than we have in a lifetime. We have very carefully made sure Snow thinks I'm the one that's up to something, but..." She met his gaze. "You get where I'm going with this, right?"

"You're sounding awfully sure that I want him to live." Haymitch said sourly. "I haven't had a drink in two months because of that choir boy."

"Yes you have, you're just better at hiding it. Haymitch; do you know what I see when I look at you?" Johanna asked him harshly. "Myself. Twenty years from now, if things don't change; the best I can hope for is to be like you. Alone with my vices, sleeping with a weapon in each hand; and trying not to think about the fact that every year, I'm going to escort two new kids to the slaughter… and actually being jealous of them when they don't come back." She tilted her head back towards Victor's Village. "When I'm with Peeta, I see just the smallest glimpse of something nicer than that. We both know better: Nobody wins the Games. We can only survive them."

"Time was we thought that was good enough." Haymitch said roughly.

"And now even that's not allowed any more." Johanna spat thickly. "So you're going to volunteer. Talk to Effie. Get her on side. If she calls for Volunteers unexpectedly, and you're ready for it; then Peeta won't be able to volunteer ahead of you."

Haymitch hesitated. "Johanna, volunteering might save his life, but we're the ones that survived. Do you really want Peeta to turn out like us?"

"...no." She conceded. "But I want him to die even less. I can threaten your life if it'll make you feel better about saying yes." Johanna added. "I'll even follow through. And I'd feel really good about it."

"You would, at that. But that's not the problem." Haymitch glanced over his shoulder again. "Jo, listen… I heard from 'Her Highness'. Our orders are to make sure Peeta goes into the Arena."

"What!?" Johanna hissed in disbelief. "We told her that Peeta's the best bet to rouse an uprising in the Capitol. Not the Districts; the Capitol!"

"I know we did; but Thirteen feels that the best bet for that is if he's on stage. The Interviews, the Arena; the cameras; the audience… She wants the show; with Peeta front and centre."

Johanna bit her lip. "No." She said seriously. "He'll never survive an Arena full of Victors. Playing rabid animals like Cato is one thing, but against seasoned killers, who aren't caught up in 'the glory'? This order we can't follow."

"What, the Underground no longer suits you?" Haymitch mocked. "Man, you're willing to defy Snow and Her, at the same time. Peeta must be one hell of a lay."

Johanna hauled off and punched Haymitch hard enough to put him down on his back. "Be nice to me, ya dumb Drunk. I'm your only confirmed ally when we get into that Arena."

Haymitch groaned and fought his way upright. "Look, serious talk: She won't like it if you go against her. And your life, my life; and Peeta's all depend on her goodwill right now."

Johanna nodded. "I know… Look, Peeta said something to me during the Angel's Light Tour that kind of stuck in my ear." She said quietly. "He said: If the Rebels are fighting the Capitol, why are they using the Capitol playbook to recruit allies?"

Haymitch said nothing to that.

"I know she won't like it." Johanna finished. "I don't care. She can't have him either."

"I don't understand." Effie said blankly.

"That may be the understatement of your life, Effie." Haymitch said nicely. "But it changes nothing. I need you to do this. When the moment comes to call for volunteers, you scratch behind your ear; so that I know it's coming. I'll have volunteered before you can get the question out."

"But why?" Effie demanded. "You think Peeta will want to protect Johanna?"

"I'm sure he will. Which is why I have to get there first. Because Johanna and I have to protect him." Haymitch's tone was very gentle and methodical, as though explaining a simple concept to a small child.

Effie hesitated. "Haymitch… How long have we known each other? I… I'm not popular, in the District. Most people don't like my job. But as much as we don't get on, Haymitch Abernathy: You and I have known each other more than half our lives. I… I don't want you to go back in the Arena. You'd be up against people half your age… And against people you know!"

"Yes." Haymitch agreed. "Effie, every year, I stay sober for two weeks. Those are the two weeks when I need to put everything into bringing a kid home. Twenty four attempts, one success. And now I'm going to lose him anyway, unless you and I make an Alliance, right here."

"I must say, it's awfully inconsiderate, this new twist. I would even say it's unfair!" Effie nodded primly.

It took all of Haymitch's strength not to shake his head at her. "Right. And we can't have that, can we?"

The entire District turned out for the Reaping. The three Victors lined up on the stage; Johanna to the left, Peeta and Haymitch to the right. There was a long line of Peacekeepers with machine guns between the stage and the crowd.

Effie shuffled on-stage, done up in bright gold colors. The reading of the official statement happened; plus the standard video of Snow and the Capitol Anthem; with the recitation of the history of the Games.

Johanna noticed the little look between Effie and Haymitch, and let herself take a breath.

Effie stepped forward. "First, our Female Tribute. Are there any Volunteers?"

Johanna rolled her eyes. "To avoid the suspense, I volunteer as Tribute." She drawled.

Effie couldn't meet her eyes. "Our female Tribute, Johanna Mason."

For the first time, Effie didn't call for a round of applause; and there was dead silence from the District.

"And now for the men." Effie cleared her throat, and tugged one of her curls back. If you hadn't been watching for it, you wouldn't have noticed the gesture. "Do we-"

"I volunteer as Tribute!" Haymitch and Peeta both said instantly. Even Johanna, as desperate as she was, couldn't tell who got there first. Peeta was waiting for the chance. Did he know what I was planning?

As MC, only Effie had the right to make the ruling. "Our Male Tribute, Haymitch Abernathy!"

Peeta sent Effie an outraged look. Effie deliberately didn't look at him. "I think that's the first time in District Twelve History with two Volunteers. District Twelve, your Tributes!"

Nobody clapped. Dead silence from the crowd. And then, starting somewhere in the back, and spreading almost instantly, everyone in the audience sat down deliberately on the ground. The guards shifted, looking around awkwardly. It was an act of defiance, but it had spread so fast, and from the rear of the crowd, nobody knew who had done it first.

Not that it mattered. It had to be planned. But they were all just sitting down, so the guards couldn't call it a riot. It was the same pose as the Sit-Downs in other Districts.

Then, in the front row, one man deliberately raised a hand, giving Prim's Three Finger salute.

It was a gesture taken up by the rest of the crowd quickly, but Peeta could tell this one was improvised. Improvised enough by one man that the Guards knew exactly who had started this part.

Rough hands grabbed Peeta by the arms and hauled him back towards the train. Other guards pushed forward through the people sitting on the ground, heading for the first man to Salute. Peeta craned his neck, but couldn't see who it was.

The gunshot rang out just as the doors to the Justice Building closed between them.

The train started moving. Dead silence as the Avox laid the table, and retreated. Peeta gave Johanna a few hooded looks, and she looked back coolly. Peeta looked to Effie, then to Johanna, then up at the walls. The two of them were fast developing their own unspoken language. She knew what he was asking, and gave a nod. It was safe to talk in the Train. But there were still servants about.

Haymitch went to the table, took the biggest bottle of purest liquor he could find, and went to his room without a word. He was going in the Arena. Peeta could demand nothing of him now; least of all sobriety.

"Did you know him?" Johanna asked quietly when the Avox departed. "Whoever that guy was?"

"No." Peeta admitted. "How can he do that, when he doesn't even know me?"

"Oh, he knew you. More importantly, he knew what you stood for." Johanna said. "Hollow comfort, right now. But he knew what he was saluting, and it was more than just you, Storyteller."

Peeta had other things on his mind. "I was there, Effie." Peeta said quietly. "Why did you give it to Haymitch?"

Effie wouldn't look at him. "Because."

"Come on."

Johanna put herself in the conversation. "Because of me. Yes, Haymitch and I got to her days ago. We told her-"

"That's not why!" Effie said quickly, almost vibrating with... something. "It's because… Because this is…" She looked genuinely flummoxed by whatever she was stuck on; like the word she searched for was in another language.

Peeta and Johanna traded a look. Something was shifting in Effie. "Finish that sentence." She told Effie seriously. "We'll wait."

"It's… This is… WRONG!" Effie clapped both hands over her mouth, shocked at what she had just said. "It's wrong." She squeaked. Then she burst out into giggles; like she'd just been given a shock from a joybuzzer. "Oh my."

Peeta just stared at her. "You've been an escort for as long as I've been alive, Effie. You take two kids to the Capitol every year, and it suddenly dawns on you now?"

Effie was still covering her mouth with both hands, but she nodded compulsively. "You were the first, Peeta. My only Victor. The only… The only one that…"

"The only one that you had to see again." Johanna finished for her. "The only one you had to think of like real people."

"Ohmigod, I'm a bad person!" Effie realized.

Johanna squeezed Effie's hand. "No more than any other Capitol Citizen, goldilocks."

"Yeah." Peeta said, as though something had just dawned on him. "Yeah! Actually, yeah!"

Johanna looked at him. "I can't tell what you're thinking right now; but that tone usually means it's something good."

"Snow once said to me that Seneca Crane was killed, because he made the mistake most people in his job made: He thought of the Games as a Television Show." He looked hard at Johanna. "But Snow made the same mistake, didn't he? If it wasn't all a show, he wouldn't have made us such celebrities."

Johanna realized instantly. "And if someone like Effie, or a Capitol citizen, can live with the killing every year by not thinking of us as 'real people' all that time... How would they react, when it was someone they cared about, going into the Arena?"

Peeta looked at her sideways. "You tell me, Jo. They're people you care about too."

It took a few moments for Johanna to realize what that meant.

"Finnick." Johanna sighed hard. "Well, I guess that was inevitable. They want you, they get you. Even in a 'random' draw."

Effie didn't speak to that, but pointed at the image. "The really surprising part came after."

"Mags volunteered!?" Johanna was stunned; and more than a little aghast.

"Four doesn't have a lot of female tributes. Annie was already going to pieces, just being on stage." Haymitch groaned around his hangover. "Smart money says they pulled the same trick we did; picking their own 'sacrifice' before it got that far."

"Mags." Peeta said, studying the screen. "The oldest Victor in the lineup."

"Finnick's going to lose his mind." Johanna said mournfully. "Mags practically raised him."

"Still easier than if it was Annie." Peeta commented.

Haymitch's eyebrows lifted into his thinning hair. "You know about that?"

Peeta was still staring at Mags. "A Victor who actually made it to old age. All the things she must know..."

"Experience is a double-edged sword in the Arena. When it comes, I hope it's quick. She's a real sweetheart." Haymitch yawned.

"Not what I mean." Peeta said absently. "Mags is in her eighties. There have only been Seventy-Four Games. She lived in a world before The Arena."

Johanna felt a sudden shudder. It was easy to forget there was a time before the Hunger Games.

Effie showed them the other Reapings. Johanna was carefully quiet when District Seven came up. "I was the only female Victor from there, too. Seven sends only one."

"It was Blight." Effie told her, not bothering to let it drag out.

"You know him well?" Peeta asked.

"Not as well as he'd like." Johanna commented, with a raised eyebrow.

Haymitch let out a wail when Chaff's name was called. He tilted the bottle back so fast it was spilling out of his mouth as he gulped desperately at his painkiller of choice. The bottle was empty too fast, and he threw himself at another, overturning the liquor cart in his haste to keep guzzling. Bottles smashed, and liquor spilled everywhere. Haymitch was almost desperate enough to suck it from the carpet.

Peeta sighed for him in open sympathy. Chaff and Haymitch were old friends. A friendship based on drinking heavily, but there wasn't much else to Haymitch.

Cinna was waiting for them as they arrived at their suite. "Miss Mason."

"Cinna." Johanna was surprised. "You decided to stick with District Twelve for another games?"

"I did." Cinna nodded. "I'm afraid you're the 'new guy' in this team." He went over to his style team, including Portia, who was already taking Peeta's measurements. "Peeta specifically asked that we prep you and Haymitch together for the Parade, and the Interviews. It's not unprecedented, but it's unusual."

"An arena full of Victors, there's going to be a lot of things happening differently." Johanna agreed.

"Could be he just wants to spend more time with you." Cinna smirked.

Johanna pulled out her pendant. "Maybe."

Cinna looked at it critically. "You still have that?"

"I told my people back in Seven that it was the first thing Peeta ever gave me." She looked to Cinna. "It started out as the Rebel symbol. Now it's a symbol for Prim. Death of innocence in the Arena. The whole country saw that moment Prim gave it to Peeta. They keep playing that clip of him giving it back to her sister."

Cinna lowered his voice. "I see it on some of the more popular Television Shows. Passing the Mockingjay is sort of a symbol for honoring a loss, and loving the lost one."

"Lot of lost loves in the Capitol." Johanna admitted. "I can think of a dozen people who mourn a loss. If they all pick a common symbol…"

Cinna was already seeing possibilities. "You're allowed a token. You sure you want it to be Prim's symbol?"

"It's not just hers anymore." Johanna fingered the pendant. "And I keep telling people it was a gift from Peeta..."

"A woman in love would want to keep that close." Cinna agreed.

"Peeta's idea of a gift." Johanna commented to Haymitch as they lined up for the Parade. "I really loved Cinna's work last year. Even before all this, I was hoping he'd start a label. I'd love to have worn Prim's firey outfit last year." She gave Haymitch a watery smile. "Well, I got my wish. Cinna's most exclusive work."

"Mm." Haymitch looked decidedly nervous. "Flames again. Cinna insists the fire is fake; but of the two of us, I think we both know who's the most flammable."

"Wouldn't that be a show?" A voice smirked.

Johanna spun. "Finnick." She hugged him. In close, she whispered in his ear. "I guess we weren't convincing enough. Putting me with Peeta was too much to believe."

"Not sure." He whispered back. "My 'friends' say the Card Box wasn't tampered with by any of Snow's people. It could just be coincidence."

She pushed it too far, but couldn't help but tell him. "Peeta thinks it's an opportunity. Victors are the only District-Born that the Capitol Audience cares about."

"My 'friends' say he's right." Finnick whispered back, and they broke the hug. "Well. I always wondered which of us would win a fight, sexy lady."

Johanna barked out a laugh. "I think we both know who the winners are in the Arena."

Part of their training was studying other Victors. Johanna knew them personally; but she hadn't followed their Games as closely as the Audience did. It had meant long hours on a comfortable couch.

Peeta held out an arm as they watched the coverage; and she didn't hesitate to slide over and curl up close. Knowing he wasn't going to be in the Arena had made her far more comfortable around him again. She had no idea what he was feeling, but he would not deny her comfort. "Cinna's the only one of my Prep team who wasn't bawling their eyes out." Johanna said to him quietly. "They've known me for years, except for Cinna and Portia. Haymitch hasn't been on the 'society' list for almost twenty years. I don't think he's combed his hair in that long. Cinna requested to stay with District Twelve. I was amazed to find his whole team were my usual stylists from Seven." She poked his side a little. "That was you, wasn't it?"

"I may have asked the Gamemakers." Peeta confirmed. "The plan only works if the people around us in the Capitol are invested in our survival. I'm a stranger to the Mentors. The fewer strangers we have-"

"Liar. The familiar faces were a gift." She cut him off. "They're not exactly friends, but they've been in my foxhole since my first Games. It was good to have them on side again." She snuggled in tightly. "Even if just for a little while."

There was a quiet knock at the door. It was Effie. "Johanna, may I borrow him for a few minutes, please?"

The younger woman nodded, and Peeta slid out from under her on the couch. Peeta looked at Effie, and read her face instantly. He covered his lips with one finger, and gestured for her to follow him to the elevator.

"We can talk up here." He said once they arrived at the roof. "Back in Victor's Village, Jo and I pull the listening devices out and toss them in the fireplace twice a week." He turned to Effie. "What's on your mind?"

"I have been doing a great deal of thinking." Effie said seriously. "My little breakdown, on the train, about how this is wrong? You were right. I never thought of 'right' and 'wrong' at all, because I never knew any of the Tributes."

Peeta snapped his fingers hard at her.

"Any of the… the children." Effie corrected herself. "And…" Her voice was very shaky. "And when I suddenly realized how very wrong this was, it changed my world view somewhat."

"Keep going."

Effie pulled out a small notepad, and held it in both hands, close to her chest. "I've been making some careful notes. With my new viewpoint, that the Games are wrong… I suddenly… noticed."

"Noticed?" Peeta was almost smiling.

"That many many things are wrong." Effie confessed. "There is something terribly, terribly wrong with the world, Peeta. And the people whose job it is to fix it? They're the ones who are throwing Johanna and Haymitch back in the Arena!"

"Yes." Peeta nodded.

Effie sniffed. "I always knew that the Dark Days were bad. Bad enough to think that what we've got is the best we can get… But now I'm noticing things." She opened the small notebook, clutching it tightly with both hands. "The coverage of the Reaping in Twelve is very inaccurate. They don't cover the sit-down at all; and in other Districts they ignored the Tributes who volunteer for their friends; the way Haymitch did."

Peeta nodded. "Keep going."

"The Tesserae back home has been rotten for most of the kids since last winter; and it's not supply problems, because the Peacekeeper rations are fine. And there are a lot more Peacekeepers than usual, who are all armed with machine guns, instead of batons." Effie said quietly. "I've seen their Mess Hall a dozen times, and it didn't register until now. People are starving in the Districts. Tribute fami-"

Peeta snapped his fingers hard at her.

"Families with children." Effie corrected herself. "They need three times the normal amount of Tesserae to get the same amount of edible food. And if the Keepers eat fine, then it's deliberate in the Tesserae. They are starving families into putting more names in the Bowl!"

Peeta nodded. "Keep going."

Effie flipped through her notebook. "The stockades. The whipping post. They hadn't bothered with these things for years, until you won your Games. The… the executions have been… somewhat frequent. The whippings much more frequent. But the people spared a bullet? They're usually strong workers. The whip puts them back into the mines. I saw one man shot for stealing food, and he was too weak to stand upright at the firing squad. Nobody who can work has faced the same penalty."

"And with all you've suddenly noticed, what are your conclusions?" Peeta challenged.

Effie licked her lips, like this was the hardest puzzle she'd ever had to solve. "There is mass propaganda. Starvation is being used as a tactic for a Life and Death Tournament that is aired nationwide; even when TV's are turned off. There are executions and mutilated bodies for public display. And there are more soldiers with machine guns walking around the streets of Twelve than there are citizens of Twelve willing to leave their homes; even to run errands." She lowered her voice. "Peeta, I've been thinking about it for two days, and I think I figured it out: There's a war going on."

"Yes, there is." Peeta confirmed. "There's a war going on, and it is raging." Peeta actually laughed. "Effie, it took you long enough, but you got there." He gave her a hug.

"I wish I didn't. I was so much happier before." Effie admitted when he broke the hug. "How can there be a war happening and I didn't notice?"

"Same way nobody in the Capitol notices." Peeta told her. "In your head, you've always been Capitol-Born, Effie. You wanted it so bad that you painted yourself six different colors. In the Capitol, you'd fit right in; and in Twelve, you were a circus clown; but you wanted to fit in with people on the far side of the country." He grinned. "Welcome back to the Districts, at last."

Effie was wringing her hands. "But now that I see the battle, I see it everywhere! What do I do with this information?"

Peeta measured her. "You sure you want to know the answer to that?"

Looking about five years old, she nodded.

"The Dark Days haven't really ended. Not for anyone who doesn't live here in the Capitol. The war is still going, but only one side can realistically put up a fight." Peeta took a breath. "So we have to change that. Because nobody else will."

Effie trembled. "Ohhh, next year's Hunger Games are going to be one for the books, aren't they?"

"Very possible." Peeta admitted. "Unless this year is the last one."

He was to let that be the last word; and he turned to go back to the elevators; when Effie caught his hand. "I told them. About you and Johanna."

Peeta froze. "Told them what?"

"Peeta, during my first Games, one the Stylists from District Two was caught 'having relations' with her Tribute, and he won that year. So I was a little leery about your 'wholesome' image being hit with a walking scandal like Mason…" Effie started talking very fast. "The whole country thought she'd moved in with you; and I didn't understand it; because that kind of 'whirlwind romance' was kinda out of character for you. Johanna has something of a reputation, and I was your Escort long before she came along…" She looked terrified. "Now that I know the Game you're playing, you need to know that I might have done something stupid."

"What did you tell them, Effie?!" Peeta was worried now.

"I report to the Liaison Committee. I told my superior that she was sleeping in your guestroom. The Gamemakers know your romance with her is… Different than what it looks like on television." She looked near tears. "I was trying to protect you."

Johanna was in her room when Peeta returned. Without a word, he went over to her things and found the Jammer, hitting the button. "How long?"

Johanna sat up. "About two minutes."

"Effie's on board." Peeta reported quickly. "But she rumbled the fact that you moved into the guestroom. She told them what she knew."

"She knew more than the rest of the country. But she didn't know the whole truth." Johanna thought aloud. "If The Capitol thinks I jumped from Seven to Twelve because they were closing in, then that alone could justify why they picked Victors for the Quarter Quell."

Peeta nodded. "That was my thinking."

Johanna winced. "Peeta… Snow was the one that asked me to 'educate' you on your new life. Including being rented out to socialites. He came to see you in Twelve; and the first thing he did on your Victory Tour was make sure you weren't a 'problem'. If he's looking for schemes, it might be enough right there."

"You think The Capitol will decide our relationship is fake." Peeta reasoned. "But they'll figure I went into it to keep from getting sold off; and you went into it to get away from their suspicions in Seven."

"It's even the truth, as far as it goes. If the Capitol thinks we don't actually care about each other at all, it might save you... when the Games are over." Johanna smirked. "Effie's puritan streak may have saved at least one of our lives." She gestured at the jammer. "Turn that off and get some sleep. Work starts tomorrow."

"Starts." Peeta scoffed and did so.

"So, what did Effie want?" Johanna said for the benefit of the microphones.

"She wanted to tell me more about the other Mentors." Peeta played along, kicking his shoes off and climbing in next to her. "She doesn't know them well, but… Haymitch is the one they usually talked to; and he'll be in the Arena. Heck a time for me to learn on the job."

"You'll win'em over, babe." Johanna promised. "You just have to play it smart."

"So. Figured out how stupid you were yet?" Haymitch asked the next day at lunch.

It had been a long morning. The Tributes had begun their training. Peeta had made his first real effort to get to know the other Mentors. They had not been accommodating.

"The other Mentors don't know me." Peeta admitted. "They don't know me, most of them don't like you, and they don't trust Johanna since she jumped Districts."

"Seven is trying to decide if she knew this was coming; and decided to trade up on Allies." Haymitch nodded. "You have to win them over fast, kid." He turned Peeta around and pushed the boy towards the elevators. "You don't eat here. You're a Mentor now. You eat with Mentors. Win them over."

Peeta nodded. "Effie, come with me."

The Mentors completely ignored Peeta and Effie when they came in. They were deep in the Game, playing for much higher stakes, protecting each other… "The Career Pack Mentors aren't here." Peeta observed.

"They wouldn't be." Effie agreed. "Everyone in this room has seen their Tributes taken apart by Careers. Year after year. The Careers will stick with each other. Anyone who tries to get them on side is just…"

"Playing an angle." Peeta nodded. "Kinda like us."

"The Career Pack stick to their own; even the Mentors. So. How do we do this?" Effie asked.

Peeta looked over the room. "One by one." He told Effie. "Not like I can make a speech."

"Peeta, the people in this room have no relationship with you. If it was Haymitch, maybe. But they don't know you, and they do know the people they're sending into the Arena. They'll protect their friends. Some of the people in here are related to Victors going into the Games."

"That's why they won't ally with us. But it's why they'll turn against the Arena." Peeta said seriously. "Who do you think is our best bet?"

Effie shook her head. "No idea. I don't sit with Victors. I'm the Escort. I know these people from television, same as you. Haymitch didn't spend much time with them either; except the ones that drink."

"Mm. Setback." Peeta agreed. "Alright, new idea. I have to get something. When I get back, can you lock the doors?"

"I guess, but that won't keep anyone out."

"I don't need to keep anyone out, I need to keep them in."

There were only two female Victors from District Four. Mags had done the same thing haymitch had; and volunteered almost before the question was asked. Annie Cresta would never survive the Arena. Neither would Mags, and everyone knew it.

Johanna sidled up to her in the Training Centre. "It was good of you, Mags. Peeta wanted me to give you a big hug. Y'know, he spotted Annie and Finnick's Secret almost instantly. He considers you a real hero, taking the hit for her, instead of leaving it to chance."

Mags smiled warmly at Johanna, pointing at Johanna's chest. The implication was obvious. Your heart's involved too.

Johanna deliberately misunderstood. "Yeah. Peeta really loves my boobs."

Mags laughed uproariously.

Peeta returned to the Mentor's Dining Hall with his paintbrush, and some art supplies. Effie quietly slipped over and locked the doors behind him. Nobody noticed, already negotiating, angling for deals and alliances. Those that weren't deep in conversation were eating.

So it took a few minutes before anyone noticed that Peeta had gone to the side of the room, and started painting on the wall. It took a few minutes more before anyone cared. And several more minutes before they realized what he was painting.

It was an iconic moment from the 74th Games. Peeta had painted Rue and Prim, cradled together. He painted them carefully, every brushstroke an act of love; and left himself out of it entirely.

Peeta didn't turn around even once. It was like he was alone with the picture; unaware of anyone. But his ears did take note as the noise of conversation faded, and then finally fell into dead silence behind him. When he finished, Peeta turned and faced the other Mentors. "Would anyone like me to add another? You all lost kids over the years. Say their names; and I will paint them here."

Dead silence.

"Say. Their. Names." Peeta challenged.

Dead silence. The Mentors all looked away from him. Away from each other. Some had their eyes locked on the picture, tearing up.

Stationed beside the door, Effie could hear boots marching, She waved subtly to Peeta; who put his brush away and slid into his place at the meal. Effie unlocked the door and sat with him quickly, as the door opened, and a small squad of Gamemakers came in. "Is there a-" They saw the painting and their faces froze; voices going faint. "-problem here…"

"No." About thirty of them said at once, already back at their meals.

"Who did this?!" The guard demanded, pointing at the painting.

Nobody answered. Not one of them so much as looked at Peeta. They likely didn't have to. Peeta's art skills were a matter of televised record.

Peeta spoke to Effie in a low voice. "Watch for anyone who lingers at the picture. Anyone who spares them tears. We start with them."

"Waxer." Effie said immediately. "He was Cecelia's Mentor. Just between us, I think he's always been more than a little smitten with her. Nothing serious, but… Look, he's too terrified of the Capitol to do anything, but-"

"But now that Cecelia's in danger again?" Peeta finished for her. "Y'know, I suddenly have this craving for District Eight food, how about you?"

The two of them moved down the table, looking at the buffet carefully, like they were sampling a different District's cuisine. A good cover, as everyone was doing so.

Waxer met Peeta's gaze for half a second before looking down. "Don't say it."

Peeta smiled warmly. "I don't need you to do anything but listen."

"That alone can get one of us shot, Storyteller."

"Then I'll let Effie do the talking."

It was hard to tell who was more surprised. Waxer, or Effie. "Me?" She blurted. "What do I say?"

"Tell him what you told me." Peeta encouraged her.

Effie turned to Waxer, and she spoke, as though she was sharing some great secret she'd just discovered. "This is wrong!"

"This is wrong." Johanna told Cecelia, as they 'happened' to meet in the Training Centre. Haymitch was creating a diversion by yelling at the Trainer who was trying to walk him through making some snares; and the two women were able to speak privately. "And unless we wanna go through this all again, we've got to do something."

"What'd you have in mind?" Cecelia said sarcastically. "That we all join hands and pledge not to hurt each other in there? Because I'd go for that, and probably half of us would. But the other half won't. I pull a sitdown in the Arena, and Enobaria will happily eat my face off. I saw her sharpening her teeth this morning. Peeta's move of 'refusing to play' won't work on Victors. And the Careers? They enjoy hurting people who don't fight back."

"That's what bullies do." Johanna agreed. "The Career packs have always been Death Lovers. And they'll get their wish, soon enough."

Cecelia hesitated. "I know you and Finnick were starting something." She said softly. "He approached me about it. But I have kids, Jo. I can't do anything to put them in greater danger."

"That was your reason for saying no then." Johanna countered. "You kept your head down, and started a family. You were brave, in a way that I could never be. And for that courage, you are now being sent back into the Arena. I saw the coverage, Cecelia. Peacekeepers pulling your sobbing babies away from you, dragging you apart."

"My babies are still back home, surrounded by those same men with Guns." Cecelia reminded her. "You think I have nothing to lose, going back in. Trust me: It can get plenty worse."

"And what happens to them next?" Johanna asked quietly. "See it through. Even if you do everything they want you to do. Even if you do everything right… How long is it going to be before your kids go in the bowl?" She let that sink in. "Your Prep team did everything right; and it didn't save them."

Cecelia jerked. "How did you know about that?"

Johanna's face was grave. "Just a guess. Your Stylist has been with you for twenty years. Off your victory he built the biggest fashion line in the Capitol. I can't help but notice he's not here for this. Do I have to ask why?"

Cecelia looked down. "He said that he had regular customers who were at the top of the legal division. People who could make a difference. He told me he was going to see if the ruling could be challenged. If maybe… Maybe they could convince Snow to let us out of this. The Capitol bends the rules for things they love. We're the only celebrities that…" Cecelia was silent for a long time. "He said he was going to try and help me. I haven't seen him since."

"Him, or anyone he's talked to."

"Years of obedience mean nothing to The Capitol." Peeta said simply. "I know I'm the odd one out here, but even I know the way the Capitol treats its 'prize champions'. And if I know it, I'm sure you all do too."

Waxer, and the rest of the mentors, close enough to hear him, couldn't argue that point.

"Sooner or later, they'll come for all of us, no matter how much we play along." Peeta said simply. "That said: We're Victors. We're the ones that beat the odds they gave us. So if anyone's going to do something, it has to be us. Nobody else can. We're among the wealthiest, most famous, most well fed; and most deadly people in Panem. And we hate the Capitol for their crimes more than the rest of the Districts put together. If we're not going to do something, who will?"

Dead silence from the people surrounding him.

"What exactly do you plan to do?" Cecelia pressed.

"Peeta tumbled onto something interesting after his Games. He says 'Resistance can be Passive'." Johanna suggested. "For us to make it work, we need the Careers, too."

The training took days; but it was mostly for show. Most of the Victors had kept up their skills, unable to let go of their own Arenas. None of them were willing to show off their skills to each other, with their whole Games recorded for television. Everyone had been studying each other.

So when the Training Scores were announced, the commentators went on for hours, debating the finer points of who would be holding back, who would be misleading, who's skills had dulled; and who had learned new tricks.

As a result, Peeta had no idea what the scores would be, though Haymitch and Johanna were both quiet as innocent little mice on the subject.

On the screen, Ceaser wasn't smiling. "From District One: Gloss: A Score of Six. Cashmere: A Score of Six."

"Really?" Effie was surprised. "Wow. The standards must be a lot higher this year, given the pool. I haven't seen a District One Tribute get less than ten before."

"Mm." Johanna made a neutral sound.

Ceaser still wasn't smiling. "From District Two: Brutus: A Score of Six. Enobaria: A Score of Six."

Cinna and Octavia looked sideways at Johanna. Peeta frowned.

"From District Three, Beetee-"

"Wait…" Peeta breathed. "Let me guess." Peeta and Ceaser said it together: "A Score of Six." Peeta turned on Johanna. "What did you do!?"

"What makes you think I did something, Little Lamb?" She said innocently.

"Don't be coy, we both know you don't fool me." Peeta pressed. "The score is out of twelve. Six is an exact average, and if every Tribute got it…"

"From District Four, Finnick: A Score of Six." Ceaser continued. "Mags: A Score of Six."

Johanna grinned toothily. "They… all pulled sit-downs."

"What?" Peeta breathed.

"For their final private sessions with the Gamemakers, they all walked in, sat down on the floor for the full session, and left the room." Johanna reported. "The Career Pack were all for it, since it meant there wouldn't be a wildcard favorite, like last year."

Peeta looked to Haymitch. "You agreed to this, old man?"

Haymitch stared back. "It's not like last year. I know I was the one pushing you to keep your head down and play the long game. All the bastards wanted from us was our silence. We gave it to them under the pain of whipping. And for our silence, we are paid in another Reaping. To hell with 'going gently into that good night'. I brought fifty kids to them for sacrifice in my life; and all I asked of them in return was to just let me drink myself to death; and still they decided to screw us over again."

"Haymitch, you also told me that if you try any tactic against the Capitol, they won't hesitate to use it back. You use the Training Score against them…"

Ceaser had kept going all this time, and was coming to the end of the list. "From District Twelve: Haymitch: A Score of Eight."

Johanna spun to the screen. "What?"

"Johanna: A Score of Eight."

Dead silence in the room.

"They knew it was us." Johanna said to Haymitch. "They must have known it was our goal to turn the Scores into a total farce, so…"

"So once it became a total farce, they didn't have to take it seriously either." Peeta nodded. "If they'd given you a full score, it would have been obvious. But just a few points ahead of the pack, and every other Tribute you've been getting on side for a week now has to wonder if you were just conning them the whole time to improve your own chances. Congratulations, you guys just became the biggest target in the Arena."

The Scores left it quiet in the suite. Peeta was angry at the chance they'd taken. Haymitch was trying to work up the nerve to drink. He'd been mostly sober during their training. Despite Peeta's best efforts, he'd been able to keep some liquor hidden; and rationed it, with only a few benders, keeping the shakes at bay.

Johanna came into Haymitch's room, and found him staring intensely at a bottle, still unopened. "If you're drunk on stage at the Interview tonight..."

"I know." Haymitch whispered, and he looked outright terrified.

"And even if he wanted to, you know Peeta's not going to send you any booze when we're in the Arena." She said quietly.

"Oh, god help me, I know it." He looked up helplessly. "I really did try, y'know. To stay sober for the last three months. I tried so hard."

"I know." Johanna said quietly. "I can't stop you. I can smash that bottle right now, but I can't watch you every minute; and you could have a dozen gallons here at the push of a button. No offense, big guy… But if I have two days to live, I don't want to spend them watching you like a hawk."

Haymitch nodded, eyes still glued to the bottle. "If I last that long, you know I'm gonna be a mess by day four."

"I know." Johanna said without judgement. "But if you don't start with a hangover, I'll consider it better than the average."

Haymitch opened the bottle, breathed it in, right against his lips... before he went to ensuite, and poured it down the sink. "For twenty years, I've stayed sober for two weeks a year, always during the Games. I can take it." He looked at her. "Peeta?"

"Pissed at us. We should have told him about the idea with the scorecards." Johanna sighed. "He has some ideas about the Interviews. We both know that's his strongest move."

"Yeah, except he's not on stage this time."

"Then you're lucky to have him as your Mentor." Johanna nodded. "Assuming he's still talking to you when the Interviews start."

"I'll make peace. What about you?"

"Ohh, I'm hard to stay mad at." Johanna drawled. "I can be very persuasive that way."

But when Haymitch came to try and restore things with Peeta, the young man had no hint of anger on his face. "So, I guess I'm the Mentor this time." Peeta said brightly.

"I'll make an effort to be as obedient and reliable as you were last year." Haymitch growled out.

Peeta chuckled. "Seriously, though. The Interviews are our last chance to whip things up enough to Stop The Games."

Haymitch moaned. "It should be you, Peeta. I can't do that. I can't motivate anyone. I can't get a bartender to extend me more credit. Believe me, I was motivated enough to try everything."

"Leave it to me and Johanna." Peeta said quietly. "We've got a plan."

"A plan." Haymitch repeated. "We don't let you make the plans, kid. You're too damn readable."

"I know." Peeta smirked. "Trust me, this will work."

"It could work." Johanna bit her lip. "But if they don't buy it… I mean, if it doesn't work; it'll backfire in the worst way. All they have to do is run a test. And if it does work well enough to send us home now, won't we be… expected to… y'know?"

"We have nothing to lose." Peeta said quietly. "You're up next."

Johanna looked out to the stage, tugging at her gown. "I still say we should have romped like bunnies for the last week or three." She gave him a dirty grin. "Nothing convinces like reality."

"I can never tell if you're joking." Peeta commented; as the audience burst into applause outside. "Good luck. Try to sell it."

Johanna's face changed; as she planted a hair-raising kiss on him; turned for the stage, and slapped Peeta on the ass hard enough to drive him forward a few steps.

"Sell it?" Johanna said with a satanic grin. "I've been saving all this up for months."

"You People Are Unquestionably the Stupidest Bunch of Brain-Dead Violence-Junkies Who Ever Lived!" Johanna raged at the audience. "How many people do I have to carve up with an axe before you get bored watching?! Do you not get what's happening here?! They'll come for you next! The only people from the Districts that are remotely liked and appreciated by The Capitol are Victors, and now you want us to die brutally for your amusement, too?! Do you not get this? Sooner or later, no matter how loyal you are, no matter how long you play the Dancing Bear; they will come for you too! They Always Do! You Think This is Fun for US? If they come for us, you're next! YOU'RE NEXT!"

She kept howling until the buzzer went off.

Johanna was suddenly calm again. "Thank you, Ceaser. That was very cleansing." She said brightly to her host, and went over to stand with the other Tributes.

Ceaser, his smile so fixed it was painful to look at, called up the last contestant. "Haymitch Abernathy! My god, it's been a while since you've been on this stage."

"Twenty five years exactly, minus two weeks." Haymitch agreed. "How are you the only one of us that never seems to age?"

"It's a lot of work, believe me." Ceaser laughed. "And yeah, now that I think of it; it was the Quarter Quell that you won, wasn't it? Another wildcard, just like all the District Twelve Tributes and Victors." Ceaser leaned forward. "Now, your last time in the Arena, you won by out-foxing your opponents. You think that'll work against experienced Victors?"

Haymitch was silent for a long moment. "Ceaser, I don't plan to win. I don't plan to live through this. My only goal is to send Johanna back to Twelve."

A hushed gasp from the audience.

Watching from backstage, Peeta crossed his fingers. "Okay, old man. Like we rehearsed."

"Not buying it. No disrespect, but you don't seem Mason's type." Ceaser said instantly. "That was Peeta's move last year, playing the 'true love' card."

"Yeah, and it didn't work. Not really. Katniss Everdeen was never able to look at him again. I relive it too. I see Prim's death every time I hear a Mockingjay whistle." Haymitch said roughly. "So you can imagine how grateful I was to Snow, when he let Mason come to Twelve. Snow gave Peeta an honest-to-god chance to be happy again… For a whole five months."

Peeta checked. The audience was dead silent for the first time. Invoking Prim's death was a risky move. But Ceaser's eyes lit up. Ceaser smelled romantic gossip, and dove on the lighter side of the last Games. "Haymitch; are you officially confirming the romance between Peeta Mellark, and Johanna Mason is still going? Even after the Reading of the Card?" He chuckled grandly to the audience. "Because she was just out here, and she sure didn't seem like a lady with love-hearts in her eyes."

"Well, she's pissed off." Haymitch said heavily. "We all are. Even worse when you're…"

"Take a beat." Peeta whispered backstage to himself. "Drag it out."

On stage, Ceaser took the bait. "When you're… what?"

"Don't say it!" Johanna called from the podium.

Haymitch didn't seem to hear. "When you're… hormonal."

There was a split second of shocked silence, and every eye in the auditorium went to Johanna… Who sank her face into one hand, tears clearly visible; the other hand going over her flat stomach.

Ceaser stumbled. It was the story of the year, and the absolute worst time to hear it. "Wait, are you saying…"

"They didn't plan it. I think it was the Reading of the Card, and they were just… trying to feel something else." Haymitch whispered. "Johanna only told me when the Reaping came. It's why I had to volunteer. She begged me not to say anything, because-"

The audience reacted as Peeta came out onto the stage, wearing his best look of disbelief and horror. His stride was shaky, like his legs were moving without him thinking about it. He crossed the stage to Johanna, just fast enough to evade the security that were trying to pull him back behind the curtain; slow enough to look like he was in shock.

"...because Peeta didn't know. She would never lay that on him." Haymitch said, as if narrating. "But I had to say it. The Sponsors, the Gamemakers; the Audience, to say nothing of President Snow… They had to know what was really at stake here."

Hushed silence as Peeta came towards Johanna, who jumped down from the platform to join him, nodding an affirmative, with tears in her eyes. Peeta dropped to his knees before Johanna, and she pulled his face to her stomach, holding him tearfully; close to 'their child'.

Cecelia, a mother herself, stepped down from the platform then, hurrying to them. Finnick and Mags did the same. Chaff came from his position to stand near Haymitch, who had come to rest a hand on Peeta's shoulder. All of them had surrounded the little family from District Twelve, embracing them.

One by one, all the Victors came down from their platform to surround Peeta and Johanna, some willingly, some grudgingly, but nobody was avoiding the moment as they came to cover each other, surrounding each other…

Protecting each other.

And then the yelling started from the audience; shocked tears turning to rage.

The lights cut out suddenly, and the screams changed pitch as the broadcast went down.

The team from Twelve met on the roof, invisible to the listening devices. Peeta had brought a basket full of food from the buffet table; and made it seem like he was just taking his meal to a spot with a view. Haymitch was with them, and they talked a little strategy until Effie and Cinna appeared at the rooftop door.

"Well, you guys sure set off a grenade." Effie reported as she joined them. "I've been talking with the Escorts. Some of them have been with their Victors for a dozen years or longer. Word is, some of the really wealthy families in The Capitol approached President Snow, and Gamemaker Heavensbee. They wanted special dispensation for Johanna to be let out of the Games. And that set off all the other wealthy families, who have considerable business and personal interests invested in their own Victors. If Johanna can be an exception, so can Beetee; and so can Finnick; and so can, and so can, and so can."

"My god, don't tell me it worked." Johanna breathed.

"No." Cinna said seriously. "Word is, Snow put the questions down hard. A number of the wealthier, more privileged people are suddenly being noticed, being investigated; one or two of them have been 'taken for questioning'. Word is, they're getting the questions put rough."

"The only way a Dictator knows how to respond." Haymitch commented. "Those people who are suddenly realizing they can't have anything they want on a whim? You have their names?"

"Yup." Cinna nodded.

"Give them to Peeta." Haymitch said firmly, and looked to him. "Kid, if this doesn't work; you've just started a major cell group, right in the middle of the Capitol's wealthiest echelon."

"And if it does work, it's a whole lot more important." Johanna murmured. "I'm going to bed." She stood up, and looked to Peeta. "And so are you."

Peeta flushed a bit, and everyone pretended not to notice, but he followed her inside. The rest of the Prep Team made their goodnights soon after, with nothing left to do until morning.

Effie put a hand on Haymitch's wrist until they were alone, on the roof, where nobody could hear them. "I have to apologize."

Haymitch blinked. This was a first. "For what?"

Effie made her confession. "The Night of the Presidential Ball… They invited me to a VIP Lounge Party. They told me Peeta was meeting with one of his Sponsors, and I should take a few hours…" She covered her mouth with both hands again. "They said it was my privilege as an Escort from a winning District; to be in the Elite Circle."

"And you'd waited your whole life to be part of that crowd." Haymitch nodded.

She nodded, eyes wide. "My job was to look after Peeta, and I didn't even notice when someone older than I am came along to..." She couldn't say it.

"I've been to those parties." Haymitch said softly. "A person could drown their conscience in that kind of excess." he looked at her pointedly. "Johanna's Escort did, when she was younger than Peeta is now."

Effie was shaking. "What you're trying to do… It's treason." She whispered.

"And keeping things as they are? What's that?" He countered. "You're his Escort, Effie. Now that you see what's happening, what's your price? To look the other way at the next 'elite party' while Peeta 'meets with' another sponsor?"

"I know. I can't do it anymore." She sniffled. "And you… I've known you more than half my life, Haymitch. Gawd, some of the things I've said and thought about you over the years; and the whole time…"

"I know." He hugged her. "I know it, Effie. I know."

"Is it too late to say I'm sorry?" She quavered. "For the part I played in… all of this?"

"Never."

Effie leaned forward and kissed both his cheeks tenderly, hugging him tightly.

The moment the door to their bedroom closed, Johanna clawed the Interview dress off like it was diseased. The shower was her next stop, but she hesitated at the door. "Peeta, if a door closes between us tonight, I'm certain that I'll never see you again. It's my last night before… Come with me?"

She didn't have to say any of that. He knew already. Peeta wondered if she was saying it for the benefit of the omnipresent microphones, so he said nothing as he followed her into the ensuite; and she started the shower running. Peeta went to the mirror, and pressed his fingernail against it. "I read somewhere that if your reflection and the real you actually seem to touch, the mirror is actually one way glass."

"And?" Johanna was unsurprised.

Peeta took one of the towels and hung it over the mirror. "Probably not the only camera in our rooms."

"No." Johanna agreed; and started unbuttoning his shirt for him.

In the shower, they stood close, but weren't touching. "No cameras in here." She said, just loud enough for him. "The steam will fog them. The microphones won't get anything over the water."

Peeta nodded. Even a few months before, he would have been blushing at the proximity. "What's the word?"

"You know the plan. I'm trusting you to be there."

"I won't let you down." Peeta vowed.

"You never have." Johanna said seriously. "There are one or two more things we need to discuss, but that's not why I pulled you in here." She kissed him passionately, holding his face between her hands. It was new for both of them. She was pouring as much emotion as she could into it. "Peeta." She said softly. "You don't believe my 'vamp' act; because you know it's my shield and sword. Your words are the same for you; we've proven that tonight."

"Jo-"

She pressed a finger over his lips. "You are the very best thing in my world." She said softly. "Not a long list of good things, I grant you. But I didn't like anything at all about my life. Now there's something I do like. Of all that I have been through since my name was pulled out of that bowl for the first time, you're my favorite thing." She kissed him again. "When I go back in there, I will be lethal again. I will do what it takes to survive. And out here, you must do whatever it takes to win this godforsaken war. But if I say this where the bastards can hear it; they'll find a way to use it against us. So if it's my last chance to say these words to someone, then in here, where they can't hear us…" She took a shuddering breath. "Peeta, I lo-"

He kissed her suddenly, cutting her off; and her heart did a flip. He had to know. Why did he stop me?

Peeta pulled back. "Tell me when we see each other again." He said to her. "Because we will see each other again. Say it now, and it's goodbye."

"No promises in the Arena." She wavered. "However we do this, we're going to lose people."

"Not what I mean. Last time we were alone together in the Capitol, you asked for one night of Real; because you knew when we left the room; there would always be a layer of strategy over everything we do together." Peeta said in her ear. "Say those words to me when we see each other again; and I will say them back. But we will be in a place where we don't have to run the shower first, for fear of people listening. It won't be any kind of a weapon or a strategy; and nobody will use those words against us."

Johanna almost smiled. "Well… I guess I can wait for that." She sniffed, blinking back tears. "Real?"

"Real."

She kissed him again. We have ten hours to make us both believe the words we didn't say.

AN: Okay, here we go.

My whole AU is built on the idea that things would be different if you could only volunteer before the names were called. Johanna wanting to keep Peeta out of the Games just like Katniss rang true, but in the Canon, she failed to do so, because Haymitch's name was pulled out of the bowl. Johanna wouldn't be able to hope for a coin toss. So Haymitch had to volunteer faster than Peeta; and that meant it was finally time to mobilise Effie Trinket.

Effie's journey in the Canon was tied exclusively to her 'Pearls'. In the books, she was never heard from again after the escape from the Arena. I can't recall precisely how her story turned out in the books, but in all likelihood, she was executed. In the movies, she was rescued, and part of the Team, purely because they wanted to keep the actress in. A change that worked out well.

But after Finnick's revelations about how Victors were treated, Effie's story became all the more tragic, because she simply never got a chance to grow into anything more than a Capitol Approved minion, until her two favorite people were put back in the Arena. Effie didn't realize there was a war going on until the second Reaping; and she never got to be part of things, beyond arranging a special locket for Peeta.

The Capitol in the Canon is very plainly based on Ancient Rome. The Empire starves while all wealth and power flows to the Capitol City, which indulges in slaves, and bloodsports and orgies. Effie's character in the Canon was desperate to be like them. But if Katniss and Peeta didn't have to play out their 'Romance', and one or both of them were 'up for sale', what would Effie have done? Would she have looked the other way? In the Canon, Effie was somewhat puritan, at least in comparison; always worried about 'reputation' and 'scandal'.

This is what I came up with. Having a single Victor instead of the Star-Crossed Lovers means Effie had to live the life of a more typical Escort. Finnick's Mentor was Mags. Who was his Escort? And where was s/he while he was being pimped out to these scumbags? And when confronted with the war hitting home for once, Effie had a choice to make. It was a progression that I didn't plan for when I started this fic, but the AU had led me to some interesting places.

Welcome to the war, Trinket.