Chapter Eighteen: Crushed

A/N: Soooo yeah it's been over a year, and I really didn't think I'd take so long to update, but I got totally stuck on the next part of Miri's story...until now. As always, I'm blown away by the reviews, favourites and follows. I wouldn't blame you if you thought I wasn't coming back at all, but I'm here with a (slightly short) update! And I hope to have more soon.

One year later

The 75th Hunger Games were fast approaching. The third Quarter Quell. Amethyst had explained what Miri had already known – that this year would be different. The Capitol would throw in a cruel twist, just as they had with the 25th and the 50th. Miri thought she had found peace in District 1, but she knew the Games would always come back to haunt her. It had been almost a year now since Seneca's execution, since she had said goodbye to Finnick. It had broken her heart, but she had found a home here in the Districts – with her mum.

If you had told her a year ago that she would be living with her mum, that she'd establish a close relationship with a woman she'd never known, Miri would have scoffed. Yet in that year, Amethyst and Miri had found balance. It had been difficult at first, both of them adjusting to an addition in their lives. Then, barely three months earlier, there had been another addition who'd drawn them both together.

Lucan Theodore Odair.

Finnick's son slept in his bassinet in the warmth of the morning sunlight as Amethyst tidied up from breakfast. Miri watched her mum bustling around the kitchen, listened to the soft and sweet melody of her singing under her breath. The truth had come together one piece at a time – the fact that Amethyst and Seneca had cared for each other, that they'd been separated and their twin children ripped from Amethyst's arms as soon as they'd been born. She'd been raped and abused by Capitolian men since, but Amethyst's warm smile betrayed none of the pain she'd endured. She was the strongest person Miri had ever known.

Being a mum hadn't come naturally to Miri. She turned nineteen not too long after Lucan was born, and she still felt too young and inexperienced. Amethyst had guided her through it with the air of someone who had done this before, even though she hadn't raised either of her children. Amethyst had been a similar age when she'd become a mum, so Miri trusted her judgement.

Trust. It was a word she didn't throw around lightly, and something that had taken month for Amethyst to earn. After everything that had happened in the Capitol, the last thing Miri wanted was to open herself up to more heartbreak. But Amethyst had proven herself time and again. Miri had loved Lucan since the moment he was born. She had found peace with these two last members of her family – because she didn't count Obadiah, even if he had snuck her out of the Capitol.

Victors didn't need to work, but Amethyst did. She was one of the most celebrated florists in District 1, and Miri had seen enough of her mum's bouquets to know they were truly artistry. It was her coping mechanism – she still woke crying out with nightmares of her Games, of the terrors she had endured since. Yet the flowers brought Amethyst a sense of peace.

Getting up from the table, Miri crossed over to the bassinet to examine her son. Lucan was still only small, but appearance-wise at least, there was a lot of his father in him. She smiled and reached down to gently stroke his soft hair. There had been so many trials she'd faced in the past year, but Lucan was one thing she'd never regret. She just hoped that with the Quell coming up, she might be able to bring him to the Capitol to meet his dad.

"You're thinking about Finnick." Amethyst strode over, watching her daughter and grandson. "I know it must have been hard, doing all this without him."

"I had you," Miri reminded her.

It had been difficult to adjust to life in District 1, particularly when everyone knew who she was. Everyone whispered about the disgraced daughter of Seneca Crane, but she didn't know if those whispers reached the Capitol. Did Snow care if she was alive? What had it been, exactly, that Obadiah had spared her from when he had decided to send her away to Amethyst?

The president's address began playing on the television, making the two women lapse into silence. Miri scooped Lucan up and crossed over to watch, a feeling of dread settling over her. She knew that this was when President Snow would announce the twist in this year's Game. She wondered who the Head Gamemaker would be now that Seneca was dead.

"It was written in the charter of the Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell, to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. Now, on the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the Third Quarter Quell."

Miri glanced at Amethyst, rocking Lucan gently. Her mother's expression had gone blank as she watched Snow open up and read the piece of paper where the challenge for the Third Quarter Quell was written. Her stomach had twisted into knots. In the First Quarter Quell, the districts had been forced to select their tributes. In the Second Quarter Quell, twice the number of tributes had been reaped. Whatever Snow was about to say, it would be something horrific.

"Even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this, the Third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each District."

Miri raised a shaking hand to press it over her mouth. She understood that District 1 had a large pool of Victors – in fact the only district with a bigger pool was District 2. However, it wasn't simply the idea that her mother might go back into the arena. It was Finnick, it was the tributes in the lower districts who had far smaller numbers of Victors to work with.

In his mother's arms, Lucan began to squirm and cry, as though he understood the danger that his father was being placed in.

Amethyst crossed over and took Lucan from her, hushing him until he stopped wailing. Her expression was neutral, showing none of the abject terror that Miri felt. It was only when Amethyst tore her gaze from Lucan to look at her daughter that Miri saw the apprehension in her eyes, brimming there like dark clouds on the horizon.

"Is there anything we can do?" Miri asked, her voice little more than a whisper, dread coursing through her veins at the realisation she already knew the answer.

Amethyst shook her head slowly. "No."

The days leading up to the Reaping were grim. Several people came around to speak to Amethyst in hushed voices, but Miri was always busy attending to Lucan. Her son had changed everything in her life. Lucan gave Miri a sense of purpose, and she knew that she would protect him and care for him above anything else. Lucan was one of the very few things that mattered. No doubt Obadiah would look at his great-grandson with nothing but contempt, but he was far away, for now at least.

On the day of the Reaping, Miri stood in the crowd with her baby in her arms. Lucan's big green eyes were wide and solemn, and he was unusually quiet. Miri kept him held close to her chest, already aware that she drew curious looks from those around the district.

Amethyst stood toward the front with the band of other District 1 Victors. When the escort read out the woman's name, the tense set of Miri's shoulders relaxed. It wasn't her mother. Amethyst was safe.

"I volunteer." The words were hard and confident, and Miri felt a wave of horror wash over her as she watched Amethyst stride forward. This was not the kind, nurturing mother and grandmother she had come to know during her year in District 1. This was the cold, proud look of a Victor, a woman who would win no matter what.

Miri wanted nothing more than to rage, to throw herself at Amethyst and demand she take it back. Why? Why her mother do such a thing? Miri knew how much her Games had haunted her. Why would Amethyst willingly put herself through something like that again? Miri stared at her mother, lips parted slightly in shock, but Amethyst deliberately didn't meet her gaze.

The male tribute was Gloss, a Victor that Miri had come across during her days sponsoring. He was maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, blonde with sharp, handsome features and a knowing smirk. Miri didn't care much about him. She only had eyes for her mother, strong and serene, as though she had volunteered to host a bake-off instead of plunging herself into a brutal Quarter Quell.

Miri had heard this speech from the Capitol, but it seemed different hearing it in the districts. Even District 1, with its charm and splendour, was no match for the wealth and luxury in which Miri had grown up. Seneca's death still haunted her, and it would not be something she easily forgot or forgave. Once the speech was over, Miri rushed over to Amethyst, desperate to comprehend her mother's decision.

"Why?"

"One day, you'll understand." Amethyst's words were soft, but frustratingly enigmatic. Miri didn't want to understand one day, she wanted to know now what could possibly have caused her mother to submit herself to something she'd fought so hard to rid herself of.

"My whole life, I wanted to know about you." Miri's voice was quiet as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted to do was unsettle Lucan. "When I finally met you…it felt like it was too good to be true. Like I was living on borrowed time."

Amethyst sighed. "Miri…"

"I guess I was right after all." Miri's smile was bitter as tears welled in her eyes. She didn't remember her mum's Games all too well, but she did remember Amethyst's deadly efficiency. District 1's darling, the Capitol's golden girl…Amethyst had twisted those expectations and turned them on their heads. She had become the ruthless killer she'd needed to be in order to survive.

"I promise that I'll explain everything to you." Amethyst reached out and took her daughter's hand in hers. "But now isn't the time."

Frustrated, Miri wrenched her hand from her mother's, ignoring the flicker of hurt in Amethyst's eyes. It felt like the older woman didn't trust her. Perhaps she looked at Miri and saw hints of Obadiah there, saw the selfishness of the Capitol.

Despite being Victors, Gloss and Amethyst would be permitted to have a mentor on their venture back into the arena. Miri had already seen enough of Gloss to know that she disliked him, and didn't think the man had a very positive relationship with Amethyst. With Amethyst being open about Miri as her child and the fact that Seneca had fathered the girl, Gloss had looked at Miri with nothing but contempt.

Yet Amethyst's decision made Miri fiercely adamant that she would not sit around and remain in District 1 while her mother might go off to her death. She would do what Obadiah had never wanted, the one thing he had urged her not to do: return to the Capitol.

Lucan woke frequently during the night – common for a three-month-old baby, Amethyst had assured her daughter. It was only once Miri had settled him to sleep for the second time that she was aware of a dim light coming from the living room. Rubbing her eyes, she walked in to see that Amethyst was sprawled on the couch, a glass of white wine in her hand and the television throwing colours over her pale face.

"Mum?" Miri asked uncertainly, lingering in the doorway in case Amethyst wasn't looking for company.

Amethyst glanced over at her daughter and offered a strained smile, patting the spot beside her on the couch. As much as Miri wanted to remain angry with her mum, she knew how petty that would be. She had lost one of her parents to the Capitol, and at the risk of losing the other, Miri knew she had to spend as much time with Amethyst as possible. When she looked at the television screen, Miri realised that Amethyst was watching the Reapings in the other districts.

"There's something you need to see." Amethyst's voice was solemn, and Miri's stomach twisted into a knot as she realised that they had reached the District 4 Reaping. Somehow, she knew exactly what she was about to see. Dread hang over her like a dark cloud, yet that didn't stop her from clamping her hands over her mouth in horror as Finnick was Reaped. Unlike in District 1, the other male Victors were silent. No one stepped up to volunteer.

As tears spilled down her cheeks, Miri came to the horrific realisation that either her mother or her lover could survive this – if either. They could not both win. This wasn't the 74th Hunger Games all over again. There would only be one clear Victor, and she was riddled with grief and horror at the realisation that she could not choose between them. She pressed her face into her hands and sobbed, feeling as though she had lost both of them already.

"Miri." Amethyst's voice was soothing. "You need to trust me when I say that I know what I'm doing. There's so much more at stake here than you know."

"Why not tell me?" Miri demanded, drawing back to glare defiantly at her mother. "You say this, but you have absolutely no proof."

"Because I'm afraid for you and Lucan." Amethyst rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "You will know what's happening. But you are from the Capitol, and you know is more dangerous than anything else."

Gazing past her mum and back to the television screen, Miri wasn't so sure. It seemed too good to be true that Amethyst and Finnick might both be okay. Luck was not fond of Miri these past few years – first Cato, then Seneca. She had to prepare herself for the eventuality that she would lose her mum and lover too, for having hope could sometimes be the most painful thing of all.