Chapter 1: Quell Announcement

I stride into Victors' Village, clad in my father's hunting jacket. It's better than the coat that I finally don't have to use on a regular basis, as the new spring has at last driven away those most stubborn vestiges of winter.

The Village is its own little thriving community in District 12, the poorest region in Panem. Peeta Mellark's and my co-victory in the 74th Hunger Games has given it some needed new life. With my rags-to-riches story, my mother and my sister, Prim, have come here to live alongside me and my fellow three Victors. Cassiope Fletch and Haymitch Abernathy have no living family that I know of, and haven't for years. Peeta's family, a family of bakers, was invited to move to the Village, but declined, citing they had plenty of resources at the Bakery in town.

Everyone has something to contribute. Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out. Though she hunted when she was younger, Cassiope has since taken up gardening in her old age. She mostly grows vegetables; they serve as quite the supplement to Peeta's breads. One of these days, I have to take her greens and Peeta's baked goods and make a nice sandwich.

This is where I find her now, in her garden. She's the Victor of the 16th Hunger Games, and at 75, has been alive as long as the Games have been in existence. She smiles when she sees me.

"Katniss, dear! Will you be at my place for the mandatory programming tonight?"

Oh, yes. Tonight they announce the twist for the Third Quarter Quell, or 75th anniversary of the Hunger Games. What a time to be a first-year mentor. At least I'll have a commiserating soul in Peeta. I nod tightly.

"I'll be there."

"And your mother and Primrose are welcome to join us."

"Thanks, but I think they'll watch the programming from our house. But I'll be by. See you later, Cassiope!"

Most Victors' Villages are tight-knit communities, because there are often so few Victors to populate them. The exceptions, of course, are the Career districts, which at a few points in history have had all or nearly all of the built Village homes occupied. Then, there are the sprawling non-Career districts who score high, like Districts 5 and 7, and to a slightly lesser extent, Districts 4 and 10. But if you have five Victors or fewer, like most other Districts do, it can be a very intimate setting to spend the rest of one's life. And with Peeta's and my win last year, no District has ever had fewer than four Victors; we now tie Districts 6 and 8 for that distinction. Of course, for decades District 12 had the biggest losing streak of all: Cassiope lived here alone for the better part of three and a half decades, then nearly another quarter of a century with only Haymitch for company - which, if I'm being honest, is kind of like living alone, since he's drunk most of the time.

We now all find ourselves in Cassiope's living room, in front of a battered old TV. It still has antennas, so an older model than the flatscreens Peeta and I own. Cassiope could order a new TV from the Capitol if she wanted to, but "that shit costs money." I find it odd that Cassiope never married. Being the first (and for years, only) Victor from District 12, she could have had her pick of anyone in taking a husband. Of course, with how rich she became from winning the Hunger Games, she didn't need to, but almost everyone in District 12 is married and those that aren't - like Mother - are not so by choice. I was going against the grain in making that decision for myself, to never wed, but then Peeta came along and made that choice for me. We'll have to get married, and soon - the Capitol will expect it. And even if we have a toasting initially on the understanding that there is no sex between us, eventually... but I would do it. Have a child by Peeta. Even if the act of sleeping with him would go against my principles, such an act should always be done with someone you care for, if not necessarily love. And I do care for Peeta. He is a kind boy. A good man. I've seen how he interacts with my sister. He is the opposite of abusive and leads a worthy profession. Add in my hunting, and any children of ours wouldn't want for anything. Of course, the pregnancy and childbirth would be painful, but if it brought a smile on Peeta's face, I would go through it all.

Haymitch is now bellowing something about how we're "one big, dysfunctional family." He's wrong for two reasons: a.) there are districts with Villages bigger than ours, and b.) if there is anyone in our motley crew who is dysfunctional, it's him and him alone. It's easy to see why he never married. What woman would want to look at that and say, "That's my husband"? Certainly not Cassiope, who was just 50 when he won at age 16. Too old. And I'm too young and essentially bethrothed. I suppose my mother, who is a peer of his, but it would be an awful choice, even for a remarriage. He would just steal all of her rubbing alcohol for consumption; she'd get nothing done as a Healer. Peeta, however, has whispered to me that he thinks there's something going on between Haymitch and our district escort from the Capitol, Effie Trinket. When he first told me, I nearly laughed out loud. Just because they fought "like an old married couple" does not mean sexual attraction. Peeta and I have had our disagreements, and for me it was never because I was attracted to him.

"It's starting!" Cassiope hisses to us. President Snow takes the podium and begins by welcoming everyone. Then, he summarizes the last two Quell twists:

"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the districts that it was their choice to initiate violence, each district was made to hold a special election, and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I wonder what that would have been like. Picking the kids who had to go. It is worse, I think, to be handed over by your own neighbors, maybe even family, than by the whims of the Reaping Ball. Cassiope must read my thoughts, for she nods quietly.

"And many districts did betray their own children. They took it as an opportunity to get rid of troublemakers. Undesirables. I don't think even the Career districts had Volunteer Wars that year. A boy from District 8 - Indigo Weaver - won that year, thrown in for being a common thief. His district was quite embarrassed for themselves when he won; they figured he wouldn't come back alive."

"Of all the uncivilized things to do," Peeta mutters darkly, but the President is continuing.

"On the 50th anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for every Capitol citizen, the districts were required to send twice as many tributes."

I instantly imagine facing a field of 47 instead of 23. But Haymitch did and he won, a Victory for 12 that is probably the most significant, even more than Peeta's and my co-win last year.

The President is now honoring our Third Quarter Quell by removing the card from an envelope. Without pausing, he reads, "On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the tributes are to be Reaped from their existing pool of Victors."

Cassiope lets out a choked "No!" Haymitch lets out an angry roar as he hurls a still-half-full liquor bottle at the TV, shattering it and short-circuiting the technology. I hear a shriek - likely Mother - from across the street, for me. Peeta's eyes are filling with tears, looking pained. As for me, I can only run out the door, fleeing like a wild animal being hunted.

I only make it to the fountain in the center of the Village before I collapse in tears.

What an awful twist. Yes, Victors are our strongest. They're the ones who survived the arena and slipped the noose of poverty that strangles the rest of us. A poverty that would drive people to rebel, as Peeta and I saw on our Victory Tour. And which makes me realize that Snow knows exactly who he wants as the District 12 tributes. Peeta and me. For fucking with him and his precious Games. Because really only one of us should be alive. We all know who would have come out on top, if the Gamemakers had had their wits about them. Me. And that would mean Cassiope would be my only protection and I would face the awful task of either mentoring or competing against Haymitch. Haymitch!

I suppose my family could get on without me. Mother maybe could marry again. She is originally a Merchant, still pretty. She could maybe even have another baby to replace me before reaching the end of her childbearing years. And Prim could pass for a Merchant's child; boys will be lining up to marry her, when she comes of toasting age.

I feel Peeta's comforting touch on my shoulder. I fling myself into his arms. I know what we have to do. If it weren't for us, Cassiope and Haymitch would be facing a guaranteed death sentence, with District 12 barely fulfilling the twist. Which is why -

"We have to save the adults, Peeta! It's us Snow wants anyway!"

"And they're in there, trying to find a way to save us!" He counters. "Cassiope's rationale is that we have life left to live and that they're old."

I stare at him. "Haymitch is only 40!"

"41," my supposed lover corrects.

"He had a birthday?"

"I wanted to throw him a party. He said no. He doesn't like parties."

Cassiope now arrives on her porch. "Both of you, come inside!" We obey, gathering around her kitchen table where Haymitch is starting to drink. Heavily.

"We have to plan strategy. We still have that luxury. Many districts will have at least one gender where only one Victor is available. I think only District 6 is like us - with multiple options for each."

"Or just two," I point out.

"Doesn't matter. We have to put our best foot forward," Cassiope says.

I shake my head sadly. "No, we don't. We know Snow wants Peeta and me. Because of the uprisings."

"Well, he's not gonna get you until Effie says your names! Reapings have been rigged before, but he can't rig one this small! Haymitch and I still have cards to play - and we are gonna play 'em!"

I stay quiet.

"Here's a card we can play," Peeta suggests. "For the next three months, we eat and train like Careers! And you're gonna lead us!" He points to me.

"What, me?"

"Yes, you. You know more about the wilderness than any woman I've ever met!"

Touched by his compliment, I lean across the table and kiss his lips with mine. Filled with a new energy, Peeta smiles. "We start tomorrow." He looks to Haymitch. "We've got a Quell title to defend."

We stand at the edge of a small lake, in the woods beyond District 12. I pace up and down between Cassiope, Haymitch and Peeta, all in a line.

"Swimming is an important life skill, but also survival skill," I lecture. "And has been used as a test for the arena many times. One that we all have to be ready for." I have to admit that when Cassiope first approached me and admitted that she couldn't swim, I nearly laughed, and offered to teach her privately. But then, Haymitch and Peeta came to me with the exact same problem. I know most folks in District 12 can't swim, as this lake is really the single body of water available, and only illegally. But my father insisted on his family knowing how to swim, teaching me when I was a little girl. Primrose was a baby when she learned. Even Mother, who learned from Daddy early on in their marriage, knows how to swim. And they were wed for five years before having me.

Leaning against a tree, Gale Hawthorne observes us. He wants to smirk, I know it, as I attempt to do the impossible: this oughta be good. He is clearly jealous of Peeta, for how he seems to despise him so, and he's never cared for Haymitch. I don't know how he feels about Cassiope.

Sighing, I strip down to my lingerie. I don't really mind if Peeta sees me: he deserves a free show at least once before he potentially dies. And I try not to let it bother me for the others. Haymitch is grinning like a horny little boy; Cassiope, of a more modest generation, looks uncomfortable. Gale has propped himself against his tree with renewed interest. I refrain from rolling my eyes at him, as I wade into the lake up to my chest.

"Come out to me!"

Cassiope manages a passable doggy-paddle. The men more or less jump in and splash around until they reach me. I reward Peeta with a chaste kiss and Haymitch an affectionate punch on the arm.

"Not bad for beginners. Now, let's focus on the actual strokes..."

The rest of Training goes on like this. I show my companions how to climb trees and hunt, with Gale and occasionally Cassiope acting as my assistants. Haymitch teaches knife-throwing and combat skills. Peeta seems to be at a loss of what useful skill he could teach, confessing one time, "I'm not worth much these days."

I counter him by deeply kissing him in front of everyone, even Gale. "You're worth far more than you realize," I tell him seriously. Desperate to help him and give him some kind of leadership role, I remember he became very skilled at spears last year in the Training Center, so I focus on that. But to actually get a spear, we have to "borrow" some from the District 12 Armory. No, we don't actually steal them, but if you want to handle anything bigger than a kitchen knife in this town, you have to obtain the permission of the Head Peacekeeper in writing. This Cassiope does for us. Usually, you can only handle dangerous weaponry if you need it for a profession (like the butcher, and my Mother needs some sharp tools for her work, mostly scalpels) or a pursuit like ours. Thread doesn't try to stop us from Training; the Careers do it every year, and perhaps he finds it amusing. On things like our daily jogs through the District, our quartet looks rather silly.