AELLA watched as her late mothers best friend and her self-proclaimed godmother cleaned her house at such a pace it made her dizzy. For years Aella had watched the woman clean, despite her telling Sal that she never had to. The older woman would always insist—she was almost obsessed with making sure it was clean. For a long time, however, Aella had a suspicion that cleaning her house was her excuse for checking in on her. She came around twice a week with her supplies and if a Peacekeeper ever saw her all it looked like was that Aella had hired Sal as a cleaner. That way, it was easier to see her without President Snow ever catching wind of the older woman and her two adult children.

Sal would never take any money from Aella either despite how throughly she cleaned her house. The floors and countertops would sparkle from the top of the house to the bottom, every room except the drawing room would be cleaned and polished to within an inch of its life. Sal knew not to venture inside the drawing room even if it had been unlocked all those years. Sometimes when she walked passed she would catch the still lingering scent of white roses and she would fetch a scented candle to the cabinet next to the door and light it and let it burn all day.

The putrid smell didn't only remind Aella of what had become of her family, it reminded Sal of what had become of her best friend, of what heinous actions President Snow had asked of the young girl when she had only just turned sixteen.

It disgusted her, absolutely appalled her to no end that their President was capable of something like that but when she stopped to think about it she was never surprised.

The murder of her best friend was hard but watching Aella shatter into a fragment of the woman she once was was harder. Sal missed the Aella that wasn't afraid to tell the world of her story. Now, she was too afraid to even whisper to her closest confidant what President Snow had asked her to do.

The two women sat in Aella's black furnished kitchen. They listened as the upbeat symphony of the Caesar Flickerman's talk show theme tune echoed through the room, the hologram on the dark mahogany kitchen table switched on.

Caesar, sporting bright purple hair and a sparkling purple suit, walked out on to the stage with his hands in the air as the crowd roared. Today would mark the end of Katniss and Peeta's Victory Tour before the party and the Presidential Palace that same evening but first they had to make a stop to interview with Caesar.

Aella remembered her Victory Tour like it was yesterday. She hated having to stand before eleven Districts and lie about how their sacrifice to the Games was essential. It was something she never would've understood before she was reaped but seven months following her Victory she knew it all. The Games had aged her mentally by years.

She hated having to stand before camera after camera as the Capitol gushed over her like she was some prized toy in the window of the store. It was all so fake, she just couldn't stand it.

Aella raised her coffee to her mouth and sipped on the hot beverage as Sal placed her mug down on the table. The two women sat in silence as they watched Caesar introduce Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark to the stage. Again, the crown made solely of Capitol residents roared, their cheers for the two were deafening as they received a standing ovation.

She hadn't seen the Capitol adore two Victors so much in a long while. She never had the chance to really perceive the Capitol's opinion of her but those who followed her journey knew how deeply the Capitol loved Aella Barnes.

Aella admired their acting skills. From what she had witnessed within the Justice Building before their Victory Tour they seemed like they hadn't a care in the world for one another. The second the cameras shone over them they flipped a switch and suddenly they acted like they were so deeply, so madly in love with one another. From what Haymitch Abernathy had told her they were not particularly fond of one another following the epic conclusion of their Games.

Peeta Mellark certainly knew how to work the cameras around him. He appeared comfortable in their presence. The smile on his face was certainly charming—real or fake and he was exceptionally humble. He was loved by the Capitol for his easy going nature. He was after all the 'Bakers Boy'. The women in the Capitol loved him.

His counterpart on the other hand wore her heart on her sleeve. Katniss Everdeen wasn't as good at acting as her lover was. She wore a fake grin and the excitement on her face was painful to watch. It was obviously fake and the love-struck eyes... Aella couldn't even talk about it. She didn't understand how the Capitol couldn't see straight through it. But Katniss lacked the most important thing a Victor needed to survive; a dead eyed expression. She looked scared for a reason unknown to Aella. It wasn't noticeable to a person of ignorance, but to Aella it was.

Sal watched the hologram beside the young woman she'd consider a daughter with a mixed expression of awe and sadness on her face. She had lost her own husband to an illness a year before Aella had lost her family and there wasn't a day that went by where she didn't visit him. What Sal and her husband had was similar to what Aella's mother and father had, it was pure love.

With the cleaning rag still in her hand she smiled ever so slightly, "They're a beautiful couple," She commended of them, "They look so happy together."

Sal had always been one for the love stories. She was a romantic, it was probably why she and her mother had always gotten on, Aella thought. She believed in true love, in soul mates, in finding happiness with a significant other and living a long and healthy life with them. Aella thought her outlook would've changed after she lost her husband but it didn't. Her views remained the same and she continued to encourage her children and Aella to go out and find the one they loved and live their life with them despite the cruel world they lived in.

"Having someone you love by your side makes it bearable." She had once said.

"And when they leave you behind?" Aella had responded.

"Well, my Ella, you've got a lifetime worth of memories to reflect upon."

A lifetime worth of memories wasn't good enough, she thought. Why should she settle for the memories? If their love was as deep and pure as they portrayed it to be the memories wouldn't scratch the surface of what they once had...

Would it?

She found herself looking at Katniss and Peeta again and she pursed her lips. They didn't look like that shared that kind of love. It had been a few years since she'd been in the company of her mother and father but she still remembered the way they smiled at one another, the way they were always close and relaxed when they were in the presence of each other.

They didn't share that. Katniss' back was poker straight and Peeta looked slightly awkward.

Aella glanced at Sal fleetingly having reached her conclusion and she dropped her head into her chin, "They're not in love," She observed, "it's called acting."

"I know," Sal responded as she looked at the younger woman, "you can be brilliant at it when you want to be."

Aella pressed her lips together and remained silent. Their interview was pretty uninteresting. If anything, she was glad to see the back of yet again another Victory Tour but it only started the count down until the next Reaping Day. There was no doubt she'd have to drag her ass back to the Capitol once more to mentor two poor teenagers through the worst days of their lives before it all inevitably ended in their demise.

She analysed the pair together and separately, their body language spoke what they could not. Their shoulders were tense and their faces—while they portrayed bright smiles—were stiff. It was only their mouths that moved, smiles didn't meet the eyes and it was a huge tell.

They both listened to their interview but their mannerisms didn't sit right with Aella. She couldn't help but focus on the way Katniss' eyes shifted frequently, like she wasn't truly invested in the interview. She seemed elsewhere and Peeta was forced to carry the whole thing on his back.

"She's so nervous." Aella couldn't help but say as they watched.

From beside her, Sal said, "How do you know?"

"Look at the way her eyes are flickering," She said, pointing to Katniss' face.

Sal watched closely and sure enough Aella was right. The woman's eyes searched the crowd, flickering constantly. It wasn't obvious until she had pointed it.

"How an earth did you notice something as small as that, Aella?" Sal asked her in amazement.

"Analyse them. Study them. Watch for their weaknesses and for their strengths. That way, you'll know where to hit them where it hurts."

As his words echoed in her head like a fond memory Aella snickered to herself and she pushed her hand through the top of her hair, "It's my job to look for the finite details, Sal."

Sal's eyes lingered on Aella's face as her lips pressed together. Aella had never spoke about what she'd gone through in that arena but they all knew. Everyone had watched her suffer and they'd watched her kill. At first, Sal had been appalled when she threw that trident with such precision but the longer the Games dragged on for she realised Aella was fighting for her life. She just hadn't expected it from her, that was all. Aella had always been young and innocent and to suddenly see her become someone she didn't recognise was shocking to her.

She remembered holding Cassandra's hand tightly—Aella's mother and her best friend. Her palm had been sweaty in her grip as the cannon counted down from ten. With every decreasing second Cassandra's grip grew tighter and tighter. Her face was pale and her body had trembled and as the cannon boomed, signalling the start of the Games, and a tear ran down the woman's face. They all loved Aella but none of them were naive. They'd been forced to watch as she failed in her training sessions and ranked at the very bottom of all the Tributes.

The camera had followed her from the start, Gamemakers expecting to document her death within the first few seconds of the Games but what they caught instead was the way her small fingers held a trident half her size and the way her body rippled as she threw it. Sal would never forget the horrified scream that escaped Cassandra's lips as she watched her thirteen year old daughter effectively murder someone.

She couldn't watch anything after that and perhaps that was a blessing but she still saw enough for her to be conflicted. Her sweet and innocent Aella was not the child she knew and it had broke her heart. No one ever told Aella about that. It was a mutual decision when they realised that she'd actually won the Hunger Games. They would never ever talk about it unless she wanted to...and she never did.

Aella pulled Sal from her thoughts as she leaned closer to her, her finger pointing to Katniss as she said, "Look at her eyes... You see that? Her pupils are dilated and every six seconds her eyes flicker, like she's looking for someone."

Sal sighed softly. Instead of looking at Katniss she was staring at Aella. She often wondered where it all changed. She knew how—everyone did though again, they never talked about it. It had been hard enough to watch her talk about her abuse on live television. Both families had broken down as they watched and had Drew Lopez not have been detained in the Capitol following it, he would've been dead the second he stepped foot off that train.

Aella had grown up too quick and Sal often missed her innocent nature but she was amazed by her intelligence. Even if she hadn't finished her education she was still one of the smartest people she'd ever known. She used to joke with Cassandra that she was born to live in District Three and her intellect oozed through her behaviours every day.

The younger woman turned to look at Sal when she noticed the lack of response. It wasn't surprising to see her aged eyed studying her, a woeful expression on her face. Aella had seen that expression several times before and all it ever did was force a lump into her throat.

Sal reached out absentmindedly and she grasped Aella's hand tightly, placing her other on top. She mirrored her actions, holding her hands and squeezing as they held contact for a long time until the television broadcast eventually interrupted them.

A loud series of laughter echoed, forcing the two women to look at the hologram again. Caesar Flickerman leaned back in his seat while laughing comically. He pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes while offering a hand to Katniss in an indication that everyone should applaud her, "Isn't she hilarious? Absolutely brilliant!" He commented of her while the crowd continued to laugh.

"What do you think she said?" Sal asked.

Aella shrugged her shoulders, "She could tell them what she ate last night and they'd laugh at her."

Sal snickered quietly and the two looked at each other in amusement.

"So Katniss, Peeta," Caesar addressed them both once the crowed calmed down. He leaned forward in his chair, deeply invested in their conversation as he asked, "How are you two finding life together as Victors?"

There was hesitation amongst the two as they shared fleeting glances and it was Peeta who was the one to talk. He cleared his throat, hand holding Katniss' lightly as he said, "It was difficult at first, y'know? Dealing with the aftermath of the Games."

Caesar tapped his chin curiously as his purple tinted brow arched, "Difficult how?"

"Stress," Peeta answered honestly and the expression of his face reflected the emotion laced in his voice, "every day and night was different. A different nightmare to wake up from, but I don't think I wouldn't of made it through without Katniss." He said while looking down to where he held Katniss' hand in his lap. Peeta shifted in his seat uncomfortably before looking up to her with a hesitant smile, "Without her I don't think I'd be alive today."

The crowed cooed in awe, their respective voices echoing over the large studio. It was a sweet statement, bold, but sweet. It was true, too. Aella had watched those Games, Peeta was on the verge of death and Katniss had hid him in a cave and nursed him back from the brink. Peeta had won on a whim, everyone knew it. It was all she and the other mentors had spoke about while watching their three hour victory interview the day after their Games had ended.

Katniss placed a hand to her heart, her face morphing into one of love as Peeta met her gaze deeply. She squeezed his hand while Caesar fawned over them.

Again Peeta shifted in his seat, looking somewhat uncomfortable and he cleared his throat. Aella furrowed her brows as she watched him. Something didn't sit right. He wasn't the same Peeta Mellark she'd met last week.

"Are you alright Peeta?" Caesar asked curiously, leaning forwards to see Peeta better.

Peeta nodded, "I'm fine."

Katniss rubbed Peeta's hand reassuringly and smiled at him, "I think he's just overwhelmed Caesar, we're not accustomed to this lifestyle back in Twelve," She said, "it's slightly overwhelming."

Peeta chuckled nervously, "Y-Yeah."

"I don't blame you." Caesar said before looking to his watch. His eyes widened, "My, oh my look at the time. Would you believe it ladies and gentlemen, we've ran out of time!"

The crowd shouted out their disappointment in a series of "boos" and "no's". They were loud and rowdy and Caesar struggled to rein them in. It was obvious how adored they were.

"I know! I know! How disappointing." Caesar said with them as he rose to his feet, Katniss and Peeta rising with him, "But it has been a pleasure to have you both again."

Katniss nodded her head with a smile on her face, "It's been wonderful to see you again, Caesar."

He chuckled, pressing chaste kisses to her cheeks before shaking Peeta's hand, "And you, and you!"

"Thank you for having us, Caesar." Peeta said politely.

"Oh, no! The pleasure is all mine, Peeta!" The man gushed, "Now, any final words?"

When Aella expected them both to shake their heads and walk off she was more than surprised when they didn't. Peeta once again cleared his throat, looking to their host with a small smile on his lips.

"Actually, Caesar, there is." He said, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit. A bashful smile claimed his lips as he turned fully to Katniss and on producing a small black box he knelt down to one knee, sending the entire studio into a crazed frenzy.

Aella gasped loudly, her eyes widening as Peeta asked for Katniss' hand in marriage.

"I wasn't expecting that." Sal mumbled.

"No," Aella responded, eyes still watching the screen, "Neither was I."

• • •

Over the next weeks in both the highly anticipated run up to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's wedding and the beginning of the Quarter Quell, Panem had been chaos. The Districts were in a constant state of uproar. Peacekeepers had been doubled, curfews had been set into place, protesters were shot if found out after dark and yet no one was deterred.

One minute, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith were discussing what kind of dress they thought Katniss Everdeen would be wearing at her wedding and the next a broadcast of dozens of people dying to the firing squad. It was vile and it was inhumane to watch. It unnerved Aella deeply and she kept Sal, Natalia and Sam inside her house with her where she could see them at all times. Fear had gripped her with an iron fist and she was reluctant to ever let them go. In the hours they had to work she sat on the edge of her sofa awaiting their return until one day she saw half a dozen Peacekeepers guarding the gates into the Victors Village.

She threw herself together and forced her shaking legs to Sal's place of work, informing her that her house was no longer safe for them. Then she went to the school and found Natalia to tell her the same and then the dam where Sam was. She isolated them in a moments notice, begging them to return to their house and lay low, terrified that the Peacekeepers saw them enter her house.

She couldn't have them die because of her.

She would watch as more and more people were flogged in the squares of the Districts and see as the previous Victors were captured helping their residents, fighting against the Capitol. Two days ago a broadcast from District Twelve had shown a man no younger than Aella strapped to a flogging tower and whipped mercilessly by their new Commander. Katniss Everdeen had been the one to intervene, falling to the ground at the hand of the Commander as he punched her but it didn't ever deter her. She rose to her feet and stood her ground.

The next day Aella found herself doing the same as Peacekeepers pulled young children and teachers out of the local school and attempted to set it on fire. She'd been one of the many residents to fight back but the only one that they had listened to when she put herself between the school and the squad of Peacekeepers with their weapons loaded with fire. After they were forced to back away she helped put the fire out and repair as much as the damage until the sun started to set, her fingers trembling as rage gripped at her heart.

She had been caught on camera standing up to the Peacekeepers in fury and displayed over the whole of Panem to see. While everyone saw her as an ally, President Snow saw her as a rebel. She wasn't the only one of the pool of Victors to join the uprisings but she was a part of the minority.

That night she was kept awake by the sound of gunfire and screaming. She wrapped herself up and left her house and she spent all night out, searching and helping those who had been injured.

The following day brought her to the announcement of the seventy-fifth Hunger Games. Sal had arrived to Aella's house with a large box of cleaning supplies claiming to be her personal cleaner and Natalia and Sam had snuck in through her back door, wavering through the forest behind her house to avoid Peacekeepers.

The young woman sat cross-legged on her sofa, a cushion over her lap as she watched her hologram with hazy eyes. Caesar and Claudius had been offering their commentary over the upcoming Quarter Quell for two hours and they reflected on the last Quarter Quell and how magnificent it had been. The fiftieth Hunger Games had gone down in history as the one to remember. No other Games had ever matched it.

The two men reflected on the Victor of said Games, Haymitch Abernathy, and paid homage to the forty-seven other Victors who had died. It was the big twist that Panem had not been anticipating, for Snow to announce that double the amount of Tributes would be sent into the arena as a reminder for every two rebels died for every one Capitol citizen.

Everything in the arena had been poisonous despite its glorious presence. Beautiful meadow fields were dangerously alluring and the serene mountain that turned out to be a volcano eliminated half the Tributes. It was notorious for several reasons, the landscape being one. Eighteen tributes had died in the bloodbath and almost half of the remaining casualties had been caused by Gamemaker traps.

It was also the year her aunt had been reaped and though Aella had only ever seen photographs of her she never realised the resemblance she shared with her. Even Caesar Flickerman had pointed it out, there'd been a fifteen minute long discussion about it and Aella spent the entire time in her kitchen with her back to the hologram clenching her fists tightly. She couldn't watch as they projected the way one of the Career Tributes wounded her brutally, leaving her to die slowly.

When Caesar announced that President Snow was waiting to give his commencement speech the cameras switched focus from their studio to the top of the Avenue where the Tribute Parade usually occurred. It was the heart of the Capitol and the entirety of its people had gathered eagerly to watch their President make his announcement.

The cheer for the wicked man was vast and deafening. It brought a scowl to Aella's face as she sat back and watched. She couldn't comprehend how stupidly blind the people of the Capitol were to fall for his word every single day. They were all so naive she thought. They wouldn't see the footage of the people in the Districts being flogged or shot in the Firing Squad. All they would see was the wedding coverage in the lead up to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's ceremony. It was all propaganda. It was all the corrupt government controlling who saw what.

Aella could see Snow's closest circle of advisers as they sat behind him. It was almost like what they did as Victors on Reaping Day. She recognised many of them by face and only a few by name from the interest they'd bestowed upon her during her last Presidential Party almost three years ago.

Finally the man rose his hands to ask for silence and the crowd obeyed his command like dogs waiting for a bone. They waited eagerly to hear what he would have to say.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games," He began by saying, the crowd applauding in excitement again, "And it was written in the charter of the Games that every twenty-five 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. And now on this the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell..." The crowd cheered again and Snow changed cards, "as a reminder that 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."

And there it was... that twist everyone was anxiously anticipating but never wanted to hear.

The world stopped turning and Aella stopped breathing. Her entire body rushed cold, goosebumps forming over every crevice of her skin before she went entirely numb. The words rang in her head like a broken record over and over again.

'Reaped from the existing pool of Victors..'

Pain erupted in her body. What started as a small bundle in her stomach quickly fired through her entire bloodstream and it held her prisoner. It forced her hands to shake, for her breathing to become irregular.

Across the square the unmistakable sound of glass shattering was heard and it followed with a deep voice screaming in pure rage.

"Victors shall present themselves on the on Reaping Day regardless of age, state of health or situation."

Hot tears rose to Aella's eyes as her lip trembled. She couldn't navigate her feelings for the life of her. So much emotion overwhelmed her. Fear pulled at the chains clasped tightly around her ankles, dragging her under the water, but pure hatred and rage saw that she set the world on fire.

She wanted to—no, she needed to break something. She had to see something crumble before her for her to be remotely satisfied. The rage was far too intense for her to be able to channel it and in that moment she didn't know what to do.

She was just stuck, glued in place in total shock.

"He can't do that." Natalia shook her head in disbelief, "Right? He can't do that!"

With clenched fists, Sam shook his head. Even though it had been years since he had died, he could picture Aella's brother storming around the house in pure fury while he shouted. He could almost feel him and his anger rubbed off on to him.

"Of course he can." Sam told his sister venomously, "He's the President. He can do whatever the fuck he wants."

Sal paid no heed to her children as she searched Aella's frozen eyes. The tears that gathered never fell but her entire body shook. She placed her hand on her knee gently—carefully—and when she saw that she didn't flinch she wrapped her arms around the young woman, pulling her into her body tightly. She held Aella like her mother used to and the warmth of her embrace seemed to make the wall crack.

Aella screamed.

It was raw and fuelled by rage and fury though her voice cracked and strained before she broke down into a fit of sobs. Sal closed her eyes as she soothed her and suddenly she had been forced back in time to three years ago when she opened her door and found Aella on the floor, sobbing her heart out while screaming for her family that laid dead in her house.

Her sobs never evened out. In the years since her family had died she hadn't seen Aella shed a single tear and yet there she sat, crying to the point of hyperventilation.

Her phone rang, the shrill sound echoing over her sobbing and it forced its way into her mind, breaking the cycle and dragging her to the surface. She pulled her head out of Sal's chest and wiped her eyes, treading carefully on her shaking legs she reached for the sleek black handle. With a deep breath she rose the phone to her ear and the voice she needed to hear most in that moment of time echoed out,

"Ella."

•   •   •