prompt: young!katniss & peeta, genderswap.

[missing scenes from Robin and Halle's childhood. Full spectrum of genres. PG.]

Interlude (Before)

At six.

"I don't wanna go, Papa," Halle Mellark whines, tugging at her father's hand.

Mr. Mellark laughs heartily. "Well, I don't want to listen to your mother, so."

Halle joins in, understanding the inside joke. "Hey, Papa?" she asks after a while. "Who's that Seamboy?"

"Don't use that word," Mr. Mellark hisses. His wife does it quite often, and unfortunately it's been passed on to their children.

"That one." She points across the schoolyard, to a rangy, olive-skinned boy, whose grey eyes are taking in his surroundings beneath the dark tangle of curls that cover his forehead.

"Oh, that's Robin Everdeen. I was going marry his mother, but she chose a coal miner instead."

"Why'd she choose a coal miner when she could be with you?"

"'Cause when Layton Everdeen sings, even the birds fall silent."

Indeed, later, when the teacher asks who knows the valley song, Robin's hand shoot straight up.

A blond, fair-skinned boy mutters under his breath, "Boys ain't supposed to sing. That's just stupid."

But when he's done, Halle thinks she understands why Robin's mom chose a coal miner instead.

At seven.

When you grow up with two brothers, you don't exactly learn to harbor "girly" interests. It's not like the merchant girls have the luxury of, say, elaborate dolls and toy swords and whatnot – like those you see kids from the Capitol have – but Halle's seen girls play with fabric–made dolls (mostly rag, really, because who would spend their precious fabric on toys?). She never got the appeal, but perhaps that is because she never cared much for toys. She prefers frosting and castball.

When Robin Everdeen asks some of the kids from her team to join them, they look at him like he's from the Capitol or just said that District 13 still exists. Really, they just look at him like he's from the Seam, and since they're all merchant kids, that's about the worst thing you can be.

Even in the poorest, most ridiculed district of Panem, having olive skin and dark hair makes you an outcast.

Halle Mellark offers a smile. "You can play with us if you want to."

But Robin is proud, and he won't deign pity.

At nine.

Robin rubs the welt on his forearm.

Layton Everdeen doesn't say anything, but a smile's tugging at his mouth. He doesn't want his son to think he's laughing at him, but it's nearly impossible with all the antics he's been pulling today.

"I told you to quit rubbin' the wheal," he says kindly.

Robin glances up with watery eyes. "I'll never get it right, Papa," he whimpers. "How d'you manage to get it right every time?" There's a hint of jealousy in his voice, but it's mostly admiration. Robin's father is the best archer he knows. Not that he knows any archers beside Layton and himself – if he can call himself an archer – but, still, his dad is really good.

"Well, I'm older than you by... a lot," he resonates. "And I've practiced more. Okay, try once more."

Robin groans and picks up the wooden bow; he pulls an arrow from the sheath, pulls the string (not too much, because it'll snap, though), and lets the arrow fly.

It misses the makeshift bull's eye by a few inches, but Robin's beaming with pride when his dad pats him on the shoulder and says, "See? You're already getting better."

At eleven.

When Robin misses school two days in a row, Halle soaks up all the courage she can muster and marches to Madge Undersee's desk. Madge is Mayor Undersee's daughter and one of the few people who seem to genuinely like Robin, so she must know what's happened.

"Didn't you hear about the mining accident?" Madge asks sorrowfully.

Halle nods. Like most people from the Seam, Robin's dad is a coal miner. According to her mother it's what "lazy Seam–people chose to do". She also told her that accidents happen all the time in the mines, because no one takes the necessary precautions, but they mostly transpire so that the miners receive an allowance.

"The deep mine collapsed; Robin's dad was killed," Madge explains. "There's going to be a ceremony today at the Justice Building, a– a memorial."

Halle drops her gaze to the tiled floor. "That's terrible," she says quietly. And she walks away.

It occurs to her much later that she didn't give condolences.

It's months later when she throws the bread at him, and he clings to it like a lifeline.

At thirteen.

The first time Robin walks into the bakery with Gayle Hawthorne, Halle is arranging the freshly-baked slices of bread in neat stacks. She has her back turned on them, and she's too preoccupied with her work to pay attention to the clang of bells when the door opens.

Someone clears their throat.

"Oh, sorry," Halle murmurs hastily as she spins around and comes face to face with the lanky, olive-skinned boy and the tall and sturdily-built girl.

Robin Everdeen holds up a burlap sack. "I'm here to trade," he explains, "but I can come back later, when Mr. or Mrs. Mellark are here."

"Dad's sick with the flu today, and there ain't a chance Mom will fill in for him." Robin shifts awkwardly, caught between staying and leaving. "I'm familiar with the process," Halle reassures.

"Right." Robin places the burlap sack on the wooden counter; he pulls the string that keeps it closed and reveals two squirrels. They're skinned and look unwounded. Robin seems to have inherited his father's archery talent.

"Alright. Two loaves of brown bread or two rolls and a cheese bun. I make those."

"Then I'll take the latter."

"Excellent. Nice doing business with you."

While Gayle haggles about the worth of the five trouts she caught today, Robin vaguely notices that Halle Mellark may be the prettiest merchant girl he's seen.

At fifteen.

"What about her?"

Robin shakes his head. Amused, he asks, "Why do you care so much about who I find attractive?"

Delly Cartwright suppresses a smile. "C'mon, Everdeen. There has to be a girl – beside myself – that you like."

"I have stuff to be worried about," Robin says, attempting to evade further questioning. "I can't afford to think about girls."

"Oh, Robin," says Delly endearingly. "All boys think about girls." She winks, and Robin's certain that if his skin was lighter, his blush would have a five mile radius. That would be the moment when Delly asked about Gayle.

Sure enough, Delly gushes happily, "What about Gayle? She's beautiful."

"She's my best friend," Robin says dryly.

"Exactly. Wouldn't it be amazing if you guys started seeing each other?"

"Let's have a deal, okay? When you find a boyfriend, I'll start 'thinking about girls'."

The truth is that Robin already does think about girls. In more ways than what would be considered chaste. Sometimes it's Gayle – which he tells himself is natural, since they spend so much time together. Really, if he'd ever imagine being with someone like that, it'd be Gayle. Though he doesn't intend to ever marry, let alone have children.

Of course, there are more ways to be with a girl that don't involve children, and Robin would know that if he were Halle. (Her brothers rarely talk to her anymore, unless it's when they tease her about stuff she doesn't quite understand yet.)

When Delly moves on to a different subject – much to his relief – Robin catches himself stealing glances at Halle Mellark, surrounding by her group of friends.

He's too guilty to admit to Delly – even to himself – that he thinks of her in more ways than what would be considered chaste.