Chapter Three

Abby-Rue looked keenly out of the window as the endless fields of District 11 flew past her eyes. She and Alex were waiting for their mentor, the legendary Haymitch. Abby knew she was in safe hands, as Haymitch had been the mentor to her parents for both the 74th and 75th Hunger Games, and they had made it through both practically unscathed.

"Do you trust Haymitch?" asked Alex, completely out of the blue.

"He got both my parents, and your mum, through the Hunger Games. In my parent's case twice! He was the first victor from District 12. So yeah, I kind of do. But I'm still not quite convinced."

"Convinced about what?"

"That he's...well, that he can be trusted." answered the younger, her voice decreasing to a forceful whisper.

"I thought the same. I mean, he went behind your parents' backs. Even if it was for a good cause, he kept something really important from them and I can't help feeling that he has the capacity to do it to us." agreed Alex, glancing at the young girl staring persistently through the window.

"You'll be alright, Abby, I promise. I'll keep you safe, no matter what." said Alex suddenly, putting his hand on Abby's shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Don't say that." replied Abby sadly, shrugging away from his hand and turning her head from his.

"Only one of us is getting out of this competition alive and I am going to do everything I can to make sure that it's you."

"Abby, more people than one can get out of the Hunger Games, we both know this because your parents did it twice. If we stick together, we can beat this thing. You're your mother's daughter and I'm hopefully my mother's son. We can do it."

"Great amount of faith you two have." came a voice from the doorway, startling the pair, who immediately darted from their seats, searching the room wildly for the speaker. Then they caught sight of a relatively plump man, with a bottle of white liquor in his hand. Haymitch.

"So, you're the champion children, then. Disappointing, I thought I'd get better tributes."

"So, you're Haymitch, then. Even more disappointing. I thought we'd get a sober Mentor for the Games. You never change."

"Yep, they told me I'd get the mouthy one. Just like my favourite Tribute, twenty-five years ago. Alright, names?"

"Alex Jonstone." Alex had decided to speak first, to allow Abby to simmer down a bit before she had to address their Mentor again.

"Peacekeeper's son, how did you end up here?"

"Harmony Latham, 85th. She married him after the Games."

"Right. What about you, Blondie?"

"Abby. Abigail-Rue Mellark."

"Ah. I thought you'd come along sooner or later. Only daughter of Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. Named after another tribute too. Well, the Gamemakers would be a bit stupid to miss you. First year?"

"Yeah."

"You?" he asked, pointing to Alex, seemingly not remembering the names that they had told him a few moments ago. This wasn't surprising, given that the amount of liquor in the bottle had decreased rapidly since the Mentor had entered the room.

"Fourth year, name in ten times."

"Ouch! How'd you get that?"

"My big sister Libby took the tesserae for the first two years, and then I took it for me, Mum and Dad. The Victor's tesserae only goes so far, even when Libby got married, we couldn't survive on it. Still, they had to pick someone. I guess I just got unlucky. It could've been worse. I mean, look at you, Abby. First year, name one in thousands. That just proves it, Haymitch; the Games have been rigged against us."

"If that's so, Alex, you'll need to train harder than you ever have before. You're two in twenty-four. Those odds aren't impossible. Difficult, but doable. There's something that proved that twenty-five years ago, Abigail-Rue Mellark, and its right outside your bedroom door."

Something within Abby's mind snapped to attention, her head whipping around in the direction of her mentor, glancing quickly from Haymitch to Alex, her gaze finally resting on the open door at the far side of the room. Suddenly, she bolted from the room, sprinting through corridor after corridor, before coming to a dead halt as she caught sight of a red and gold plaque on her door.

As she approached, step after step, the writing became clearer, as did the image beside it. The emblem emblazoned across the plaque resembled a small, spread eagled bird with an arrow crossing through the circle around it. But it was the copperplate script that caught the attention of the young blonde, so much so that tears began to fill her crystalline eyes.

Abigail-Rue Mellark
The Mockingjay Reborn.

A/N: As it's my birthday, please leave me a review. They're my fuel for writing and I might lose the will to write if I don't get any of them.