Hello and thank you so much for your reviews: Luke777, sghope16, CJstoriesandobsessions, and September Samstar! I really look forward to reading your comments. I only answer questions that I don't feel are truly answered in the story, and one was mentioned from the last chapter by CJstoriesandobsessions that I think is a good point...

When I was writing this story, I wrote it under the pretense that President Snow really did love Analeigh at one time. But as his paranoia set in, and he became more the man we know from the books, it was lost under everything else.

Enjoy!

Chapter 9

"He knows." Ian is pacing the small room in the back of the library, his nervousness all over his face. He had panicked as soon as I told him about the inscription, way more than I had, and called an emergency meeting with Plutarch. I am still in my dress and jacket from earlier, sitting at the small table. Plutarch stands across from me, trying to warm his hands by blowing into them.

"I understand what you've told me about how the President now knows about Mrs. Snow's…situation. But what do you want me to do about it?" Plutarch asked. He has put on some more weight and the buttons bulge on his jacket.

"I want you to get her out of here!" Ian stops pacing and stares at the head Gamemaker, exasperated. "She's done enough."

"I've already told you, I can't do that," Plutarch replied, looking just as frustrated as my bodyguard.

"Why not?"

"It's too soon. If I get her out now, the President would send his entire force after her, and District 13 is not ready to defend itself quite yet."

"Well then, take her somewhere else."

"Where?" Plutarch asked. "Where can I possibly take her that she would be safe? To one of the districts that is rebelling where the Capitol drops bombs almost every day? Or maybe to Districts 1 and 2 which are still allied with the Capitol?"

"You promised when she got involved in this that you would help protect her and give her a safe place to go if things got bad. It is time to fulfill your promise, Mr. Heavensbee," Ian said, his voice low and menacing.

"Listen, I understand your concern, but let's face it. President Snow made an idle threat. You can't be close to the President and not receive a threat every now and then."

"He tried to poison her right after the Games," Ian interjected, but Plutarch only shrugged.

"And he tried, obviously half-heartedly, to poison her. He was in a very bad state at that time. We all know that. He did some things that were somewhat…out of character. But she is still alive. And you want to know why that is?"

"Because I stopped her from drinking the damned tea!" Ian shouted. He was furious by now and had started pacing again. It was so cold that I could see each breath, and his were coming out in uncontrolled huffs.

"Yes, and also because the President is not a stupid man. Mrs. Snow is a very well-known figure. He can't just kill her off and nobody pay attention. The citizens LOVE her. They will demand to know what happened."

"Lies are told everyday in the Capitol."

"Yes, but not lies that will make the President look bad. She is on the television and in the Capitol newspaper almost everyday, looking as healthy and beautiful as ever. Do you really think the people will accept it if she dies suddenly from 'an unknown illness'? As much as you dislike us common folk, Mr. Sunderling, even you must admit that we are not that dumb."

Ian shook his head. "You need to get her out of here."

"Ian, stop it," I finally spoke up. "Plutarch is right. I need to stay here. It's too soon to leave."

"He is going to kill you, Analeigh," Ian replied, his voice lowered.

"He was going to kill me anyway, right?" I smile sadly, looking up at him. "I'm in no more danger now than I was before." I was faking a confidence that I didn't feel, but it seems to work. Ian sighs heavily before looking back over at the head Gamemaker.

"Alright, you win. So what do we do now?"

Plutarch smiles, relieved. "Do exactly what you have been doing. The best thing is to keep acting like nothing has changed."

And we did. Days went by, and soon weeks. Winter thawed into spring, and there were no more threats. In fact, I barely saw my husband at all. The air seemed thicker, and I could feel something big was about to happen, but as hard as I searched I could find no evidence of anything. So I was just as surprised as everyone else on April 1st, when the President announced in front of all of Panem the twist of this year's Quarter Quell.

"Are you crazy?"

Coriolanus turns to me, his eyebrows raised. The crowd behind the closed doors to the balcony are still screaming with the tortuous news that former victors would be the ones going back into the arena for the 75th Hunger Games.

"What did you say?"

"I asked if you were crazy," I answered, unflinching at his snake eyes. "You can't send former victors back in. It's cruel, and the people hate it."

"My dear, you saw the paper. It was written out when the Hunger Games began 75 years ago. I had nothing to do with it." His smile is sickly sweet, his words smooth. But he is a liar and I know it. He wants to get rid of Katniss, and this is the best way. The only way really, that he can get rid of her without anyone blaming him.

"You're only going to give fuel to the fires of the rebellion, you know that, right?"

Coriolanus raises his finger and shakes it at me. "Do not try to lecture me on how to handle a rebellion, my wife."

Ian has hold of my shoulder and is pulling me backwards. I give one last steely glare at my husband before letting him lead me away.

"Give my regards to everyone, sweetheart," I called over my shoulder. "I suddenly don't feel like partying tonight. And I doubt anyone else in the Capitol does, either."