Ch. 1: Blood Ties

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," the President declares. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. We can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president removes an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that the families of their heroes were in the most danger as a result of their actions, each boy and girl will be selected from the youngest members of the families of previous victors, either siblings or children, as the situation calls for it."

I stare at the television, stunned. My mother immediately gasps and Prim's eyes widen in shock. I try to work out in my head what it means.

Either siblings or children… youngest members of the families of previous victors…

As far as I knew, Haymitch had no family left. Peeta had only brothers. The other tribute who had died had no remaining relatives alive, either.

I look over at Prim, tears welling up in my eyes. My sacrifice last year had been for nothing. Prim was going in the games anyway.

I continue to stare at the television as Prim gets up silently and walks outside. My mother begins sobbing and I get up and follow Prim, silent, expressionless.

It had all been for nothing.

I look over and see Peeta walking towards me. His expression is also dejected. I realize in that moment that his older brothers- one or both, I didn't know, but I had a feeling both- would be the only two boys names for the reaping as well.

"Well," I whisper hoarsely. Peeta frowns at me as we stand together in the middle of the street. "Well. I can see the Capitol's reasoning here."

"What do you mean?" Peeta asks.

"Killing me is much too simple," I roll my eyes cynically, "I would just have been a martyr, a cause for the rebels. But killing my sister? They know. They know because I volunteered that that is the one thing that would break me the easiest."

Peeta frowns apologetically.

"I'm sorry about your brother, whichever one it ends up being," I continue, my voice much quieter now. Peeta looks at me sadly, murmuring in reply, "Don't worry about it. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is," I sigh, "If I hadn't pulled that stunt- if all this nonsense hadn't happened- they wouldn't feel the need to punish me, and by extension, you."

"It's alright," Peeta smiles cynically- it seemed to just be a day for cynicism- "I'd rather be a piece in your games than theirs."

I look up at him and our gazes hold for a long time. I am speechless at this last comment. After that moment, Haymitch finally appears and walks over to us, looking frustrated.

"So. We need to come up with a plan. Obviously, Prim is going in, and there's nothing we can do about it. Which of your brothers…" Peeta cuts off Haymitch's litany.

"I imagine my family will decide that at home, Haymitch," Peeta mutters. Haymitch's eyes soften just slightly.

"Alright then. When that is decided, we need to come up with a strategy, one with the biggest chance that either of them will come out the winner. It'll be a long shot, especially with…" Haymitch hesitates, glancing at me.

"Prim," I sigh, my voice breaking slightly, making me furious that I could show such fear, "They'll be sure to kill Prim. I don't believe this was planned out before, not for a second. It's too complex, too specific, too convenient. They will kill her. It's what it was designed to do."

"We'll do what we can," Haymitch nods, "We'll all work together."

"Only two of us can be mentors," Peeta points out.

I imagine coaching Prim- young, innocent Prim- in how to kill others and survive. A shiver runs through me.

"Do you want to coach your brother?" Haymitch asks quietly. Peeta frowns, looking at him.

"We'll figure it out when we get to that point," Peeta finally says, calculatingly, "We'll work as a team, like careers, until we have to decide. I know it was a formality for you, but when is it decided?"

"A month before the Games," Haymitch pauses, "We won't have much time."

"We better get started, then. I'll go home right now and talk to my family," Peeta sighs, "There's no time to waste in lamenting things that can't be controlled."

I nod, "I'm going to go find Prim. I don't know where she went but… I'll find her."

I turn to go but Peeta grasps my arm, holding me back for a moment. I look at her, already much too tense. His eyes are softer than I had really seen them for a long time now- since the Games, when he thought I actually loved him.

"I won't say this in front of my brother. But… Prim is the main priority. Her life comes first," Peeta whispers.

I look at him in shock, my eyes widening. I then, on complete instinct, rush forward to kiss him. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude at this statement. I never expected this, and I truly realize that I would never, ever, deserve Peeta Mellark.

I pull back from the kiss and manage to hoarsely whisper, "Thank you." He nods, his expression still soft, and lets go of my arm. I walk away, pulling myself together, as I walk to each of Prim's favorite haunts. I finally find her at the dingy park next the school, sitting on a rusty old swing, staring out at the forest beyond the fence.

"I'm sorry," I murmur quietly, the instant I see her. She looks up at me. She hasn't been crying, I can tell instantly.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Prim pauses, "You did what I asked you to do at the beginning of all this- come home. You never owed me anything but that. You never had to volunteer for me; you never had to work so hard to keep us alive. Don't look at me like that, I listen to you and Haymitch and Peeta, sometimes. I know we've been in trouble because of what you did. But you came home. That's all I wanted."

I sigh, nodding, "Alright. But I'm still sorry, because they're using you to punish me in the worst way they can."

"They could put Peeta in the games," Prim suggests. I look at here sadly.

"That would also kill me, you're right."

"When will you realize?" Prim asks, a small, cynical smile on her face. Cynicism in a thirteen year old. That's what this day has brought.

"Realize what?" I respond, somewhat peevishly.

"Never mind," Prim stands up, "So, we better get to training, then."

"Yes," I nod sadly, "Peeta and his family are figuring out…"

"Whether it's to be Nan or Rhys?" Prim asks as we walk back towards the Victor's Village.

"Yep," I pop the p, trying to regain some lightheartedness for my sister and failing, as we reach Haymitch's house. It's not been decided, but I figure we would meet here.

"Hello Prim," Haymitch greets, hobbling towards us, "Sorry that you have an idiot for a sister."

Prim glares, "It's not her fault."

Haymitch shrugs, "Whatever you want to think, precious."

Instantaneously, Prim had a nickname of her own.

We sit around for hours. My mother has not appeared and I don't bother to look to see if she's alright. Prim needed me more. She had finally started to cry at one point and I held her, hoping that Peeta and his family were… well, they couldn't be alright. But coping as well as could be expected.

Finally, as the night closes in and I start to think that Prim and I should just go back home and await the new day, the door opens. Peeta comes in with Rhys, the younger brother, following behind.

"Well, as you can see, we've finally decided," Peeta murmurs hoarsely. He'd obviously been crying, and looked dejected. He did love his brothers and I knew it killed him to send Rhys off. But one had to go. Of course it had taken a long time to sentence one of their family members to death.

"Why was he picked?" Prim asks softly, caringly. Peeta looks over at her, his expression still hopeless.

"Because he's stronger and less of a fan of fair play. Nan is… like me. Too… selfless," Peeta looks down at his shoes. I had a funny feeling, because of his decision to protect Prim before his brother he had been hoping that Nan would be chosen. Because Nan would sacrifice himself for Prim. Rhys was not as much of a sure bet.

But I knew his mother, at least a little. She'd already had to deal with believing that one of her children was certain to die, thinking that I would have come out victorious over him. She wasn't taking a chance with another child. She picked her one son that resembled herself.

Rhys was the tallest in the family, though he had the same stocky build as Peeta. He had blonde hair and blue eyes like all the Merchants, and similar facial features to Peeta. But he looked so different than his younger brother because he had no trace of kindness in his eyes.

Prim, whom he resembled so strikingly in hair and eyes, stood up and looked at all of us.

"It's late," she declares, "We can deal with this tomorrow. At least we know what we're doing now."

Rhys looks down at the younger girl and his expression still hasn't softened. Behind his back, Peeta looks at me apologetically. I shrug. I don't blame his mother as much as I would have thought I would.

"Prim is wise," Haymitch agrees, "Go get sleep, all of you. We start tomorrow."

"Start what?" Rhys barks. His voice is gruff and peeved. I know that I must have sounded similar when I thought my days were numbered.

When I knew my days were numbered.

"Training. Do you really think your brother and Katniss are going to let you just go in the arena and watch you die?" Haymitch directs this mostly at Rhys, but nods at Prim, "We're going to train you like careers. One of you is going to win, mark my words."

I'm impressed with Haymitch's determination. Prim smiles at him slightly and Rhys shrugs.

"I don't know if we'll have much choice in our fates. I can tell that we were just put in these things because we have rebellious siblings," Rhys grumbles.

"Be that as it may, we're going to do everything in our power," Haymitch snaps back, "You don't get to spend these months sitting on your laurels and wasting your life."

"Why ever not?" Rhys growls, "I know my brother, I know Katniss, and I know you. Your main priority is Prim. You'll work harder on her and you want her to survive before me. If I'm a goner, I might as well enjoy myself."

"You won't because we're working just as hard to protect you," Haymitch hisses. I wonder if this is what it's like to watch me argue with Haymitch. Peeta looks at me, as if he knows what I'm thinking, and smiles very slightly out the corner of his mouth.

"Well, mark this. I was picked by my mother because I'm less of a soft heart, something I'm sure you've all picked up on," Rhys whispers angrily, "When we get in that arena, I'm not protecting Prim or anyone else. I'm protecting myself."

"Fine," Haymitch spats. Prim looks down at her shoes and Peeta sighs.

"Nan might have sacrificed himself for the girl, but I…" Rhys is cut off by Peeta.

"We get it. That's why mom picked you, because she wanted all three of her sons," Peeta mutters, "Just shut it. At any rate, you'll need less help in training that she will."

Rhys looks down at Prim, who steadfastly looks away from him. I try to quell the growing hatred for this boy in my heart as he huffs and walks out the door. Prim looks at us sadly.

"He can win, I don't-"

"No, Prim," I whisper, "We're going to do everything we can for you. If he doesn't want to cooperate, he doesn't have to cooperate."

"He wouldn't win anyway," Peeta mutters bitterly, "I tried to explain this to our mom. He's too reckless. He'd do something stupid and get himself killed. He will do this. We need it to be Nan so he can protect Prim, if one of them is going to die anyway. And Nan would have a better chance to survive. I hate to say it, but he would think things through. Be careful. But no, my mother is sending the one who is bloodthirsty."

"She doesn't need to watch another son loose his life to protect someone," I murmur softly. Peeta looks at me and nods.

"I get that. But still," Peeta lets out a heavy sigh, like he's an old man who has lived for too long.

"He'll be handful, but we'll work with it. Prim, you need to be strong. I know you're Katniss' sister, though. Can you be strong?" Haymitch murmurs. Prim nods, looking fiercely determined, and Haymitch smiles.

"We'll work through this. Now, all three of you, get some sleep," Haymitch mutters, "That's an order."

I follow my sister back to the house, wondering how the Capitol would take Prim being a victor in the games. Whether we would be safe, or if it would just make things worse.

AN: This isn't going to be a story of long chapters, but rather, short simple ones. I'm not even sure where it's going… It's just an idea that popped into my head. I love Suzanne Collins (the Gregor The Overlander series has always been one of my favorites and I read the Hunger Games series last fall and loved it too, obviously,) but I always thought this was fishy as Katniss would most definitely have been worse to have in death than in life. But I get that she wanted them back in the arena and I can't argue with that. So this is my idea, and I'm going to roll with it. I have another Hunger Games AU idea that goes back even earlier, to prepping before the 74th games, and I still have to finish my Harry Potter series, and I'm in college… so hopefully this won't land in the "On Hiatus" category.

I got the names of Peeta's brothers from bread, since I figured if the family named a child Peeta (pita bread) they must have an obsession for their job. Nan is shortened from Naan, a leavened flatbread that originated in Persia. Rhys is named from rye, an ingredient in certain types of breads worldwide. I tried to make it subtler than… Peeta. No offense, again, I love Suzanne Collins.

This IS Peeta/Katniss (Ah, Peeniss.) It's just not the main focus of the story. I admire Suzanne in that she manages to place the romance in the books as an added conflict, a plot driving force but not the main focus of the novel. Hence, though romance is my thing (what can I say, that's usually why I write fanfiction, not for AU ideas like this but for pairings I adore or OC's I get addicted to,) this won't focus on that. Nor will I introduce blatant OCs. Yes, Rhys and Nan are basically OCs, but not my usual. We'll see how it goes.

Reviews are my lifeblood. I'm truly not exaggerating right now. I would love some reviews before I go on here. Let me know what you think of the different Quarter Quell idea, Rhys, and the dynamic in the team so far. Thanks! You're all the best.

And Author's Notes won't usually be this blatantly long. I promise. Review!