𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞

── the quarter quell

𝔗he incident with the gun and the farm stays on our minds for weeks afterwards. Cato can't quite stomach coming back to the farm, barely being able to make the walk halfway over with me before he pales and retreats back home. I manage it because I have to, because my father has no one else to help and it's down to me, Raike and my mother to milk 150 cows, feed and wean the older set of calves, sell the bullocks and then help the cows with the younger set of calves.

Cas comes with me, Mick stays with Cato, still recovering just as my father was. Rue, when she's not busy at the orchards, comes and visits us more and more, keeping our spirits up and bringing us apples that she gets to take home. Geare visits more too, helping me at the farm when he knows that we're short of people.

The nights are worse though, for both me and Cato. I wake up, normally screaming, thinking of what Snow will do to my family, my livelihood, dreaming of all of their eyes in mutts, trying to kill me. Cato doesn't scream. He will just sit bolt upright, sweating, terrified, searching for an enemy that's coming back to hunt him down.

I stay up most nights with him if that happens.

A dog whimpers to my left, and I open one eye, finding Mick's wide eyes and smiling. Cas is sitting behind him, holding his food bowl in his mouth as I chuckle. The dogs were on a clock, having a set routine and no matter how badly we slept, at 7AM, they would be awake and wondering where breakfast was.

Cato's arm is still tight around my waist and I can feel his breathing on the back of my neck, before I turn around to face him. In the darkness of night, I can barely make out his face and for a moment, I consider not waking him but the dogs are waiting and if we don't get up, they'll clamber onto the bed and attempt to sit atop us.

Over our time together, I've learnt that the best way to wake him is slowly. Too fast, and he'll be on alert, but slowly, he'll take better to that.

"Cato..." I mumble his name quietly. If it's louder, he'll worry that I'm trying to wake him in the arena. He doesn't respond but lets out a huff of breath. I smile, tracing his hair from his face and then letting my fingers track his bones, down his jaw before settling on his lips. "Cato, the dogs are up."

Still no response, and my hand traces down and across his shoulder, across the fusion point at his elbow between his arm and the metal one, and move it gently from around my waist. He doesn't take kindly to that, eyebrows furrowing, before finally, one eye opens and I'm greeted with a slight glare.

"Hi..." I murmur, smiling as I lean up to kiss him gently, not caring about much else. "The dogs are up and I need to go and feed them before they start throwing their toys around."

He unlatches from around my waist, before twisting and going back to sleep as I clamber up. Pulling on a large jumper belonging to Cato, I take the dogs back down to the kitchen. Mick limps behind me and Cas, but still just about manages to keep up. I feed them quickly, before stretching and twisting, brushing my hair out. The doorbell rings and I grow quiet, before padding over and opening it. Varya is on the doorstep and behind her, my entire prep team and a crate. Immediately, my face is set in a scowl.

"Aw, Mitzi, it's almost like you don't want to see us." Varya teased, before leaning in to kiss my cheek. "Did I wake you?"

"No, but you'll wake Cato."

"I need him out. He can't see this."

"What's this?"

"Your wedding dress of course!" Varya reminds me with a wink as I scowl further. "Go on, wake up Cato. I dread to think that if I do it, he might stab me."

"I'll send him somewhere with the dogs." I turn, padding back upstairs as my prep team makes themselves at home in my house, running a bath for me and getting things ready. When I reach my room, Cato is already up, running a tired hand over his face. I place a kiss to the back of his neck, leaning into his warmth as I drape myself across his shoulders. "My stylists are here with my wedding dress or a few for me to try on and take photos with."

"I know where I'm not wanted." Cato chuckles, before turning to kiss me as I smile and press a kiss to his shoulder. We both take a moment of silence, as I trace shapes over his chest.

"Mitzi! Come on. Cato, you have to leave!"

"They're so demanding." Cato stands, pulling a shirt and trousers on, ruffling his hair as he pads down the stairs and greets everyone with the cocky and brash personality from the Capitol. I laugh as I follow him down, watching as he pulls on his coat and shoes and whistles for the dogs. They had been studying the crate, but abandoned it to go to Cato's side and in a moment they're gone and I'm left with my prep team.

After the usual complaints and whines about the deteriorated state of my beauty, they get straight to business. This time, I'm lucky enough to avoid being waxed and instead get to be shaved, since they just need me to look hairless for a few hours. I still have to soak in a tub of something, but not for that long and then, it's hair and makeup. I've tuned out my team for the most part, which is usually me best bet if I don't want to feel sick.

But, Lish makes a comment that catches my attention. It's a passing remark, about fish at a party and the lack of it.

"Why couldn't you get salmon? Is it out of season?" I knew that salmon wasn't as much in season at the moment, but I still thought there was for the Capitol.

"Mitzi, we haven't been able to get any seafood for weeks!" Lish cried. "You know, the weather's been so bad in District Four."

My mind started to whir. No seafood for weeks? District Four? When we were there for the Victory Tour, the crowd was thrumming with anger, but would they have truly revolted?

I began to nudge my team in a certain direction, asking more questions about the other hardships the winter had brought on them. For them, any little disruption in the food line meant that they would complain.

Bu the time I'm ready to be dressed, their complaints have given me a sense of which districts might have revolted. Districts four, three and eight. It was a widespread rebellion and that in itself filled me with fear and timid excitement.

Varya sweeps in, double checking my makeup, kissing my cheek and then leading me down and into the living room. It's been cleared and lit for a photoshoot.

Aralya is having a fine time ordering everybody around, keeping everyone on schedule. It's a good thing, because there are six gowns each with their own headpiece, shoes, jewellery, hair, makeup, setting, lighting and god knows what else.

There's pale lace, pink roses, ivory satin, gold bangles, a sheath of diamonds, a jewelled veil, heavy white skirts and pearls. It's a good thing that neither of my dogs are here because one of them would put muddy paw prints on the dress and I couldn't have that.

The moment one shot had been approved, we move to the next one and I hate it. I am constantly pulled around and tugged, forced into different positions and hair and makeup.

Rue turns up halfway through and between shots, manages to feed me food and water, providing me with stories from what went on at school that day, and also commenting on the dresses that she's able to see. Even still, I'm exhausted and hungry by the time we're done.

Then, in the time it takes for me to head upstairs to bathe and get all of the conditioner and shampoo off, they've taken everything down and disappeared. I re-emerge into the living room, in fresh clothes (admittedly one of Cato's shirts) and find that it's only Rue still sitting in there.

She's found the macaroons that Cato had got his parents to send and was eating them as I join her with a groan.

"You looked very pretty, Mitzi, but they're not very you." Rue told me as I hummed. "They're so extra. I always thought you'd get married in one like my mama's."

I hum in agreement.

"Come on baby bird, tell me what you've been up to. How's school?" She tells me all about her day until Cato comes back, then we recount the wedding dresses to Cato, who chuckles about it all, before Rue departs for home and Cato and I eat and then go to bed.

For some reason, it is me who has the nightmares that night. I dream that I'm in the wedding dress, silk and lace and pearls swirling around me, but I'm running away, through the woods. The mutts are chasing me, screaming and shouting, but it sounds like them and they're screaming my name. Their hot breath and sharp fangs grow closer and closer, until they finally rip into my skin and I scream myself, and Cato awake.

Neither of us sleep for the rest of the night, and I stay curled in his arms, clinging onto him until the dogs paw their way in with their bowls, and my day starts all over again.

"We can't keep doing this, Cato." I whisper to him as he walks me halfway to the farm, knowing that I need to see my cows. "I can't keep living in constant fear. We have to leave."

"And go where?" He shakes his head. "Where can we go that they can't follow us?"

"District 13."

"That's a myth."

"Maybe, but there's got to be something there. Something that could protect us."

"It's a radioactive myth, might I point out." He shakes his head. "Just, we keep calm, we don't rock the boat."

"Think it's a bit late for that." I squeeze his hands. "They're going to come back, and this time, I have this fear that one of us will end up dead."

Cato sighs, knowing better than to tell me that my fear is a little irrational, and instead, pulls me in for a quick kiss.

"Have a good day. Quarter Quell announcements this evening, we'll find out what kids we've got to mentor." My mood sinks further. Cato and I might have been out of the age range for the games, but that didn't mean we wouldn't be dragged back to watch more children been viciously beaten to death.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

At seven thirty exactly, we gather around the television. My parents have joined us, bringing food and laughing, as does Rue, her mother and siblings. We're one of the few houses with a TV, so they take advantage of it.

The first thing is Caesar Flickerman, talking across a large crowd, about mine and Cato's upcoming wedding. Everyone in the room teases and cackles as Cato and I laugh, but he tucks me a little closer and we watch as Varya is introduced onto the stage, having worked with her team to design the wedding dresses. Apparently, there were around twenty-four wedding dressed that were then narrowed down to six through votes and then, they present them to the crowd.

My mother's hands go over Cato's eyes before he can see them, both laughing about it as the others whistle and cheer in the room for what they think is the worst and the best, similar to the crowd in the Capitol. My father is silent, still recovering, but he finds my shoulder and squeezes it on the ones he likes and I make a mental note of that.

If I have to get married in a ridiculously over the top gown, I'll try and sway it to the ones my father likes the most.

Caesar announces that interested parties must cast their final vote by noon on the following day.

"Let's get Mitzi Kennedy to her wedding in style!" The crowd screams louder at that, before there's a reminder about the other big event of the evening. Because, what's better to overshadow a wedding? A Quarter Quell.

Cato and I share a look.

"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games and that means, it's time for our third Quarter Quell!" Cheers start up again as Rue's younger sister speaks up.

"What will they do?" Her mother hushes her, most turning to look at us.

"It's months away. It'll be the reading of the card to determine the theme." My father replies. My breathing picks up, fingers twitching in Cato's hand as he stares straight ahead.

The anthem plays, and President Snow takes the stage, followed by a young boy dressed in a white suit, who holds a simple wooden box. With the end of the anthem, President Snow begins his speech, reminding everyone of the Dark Days and why murdering children was the best form of punishment. Then he goes onto the laws for the Games, and how they dictated that every twenty-five years, the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell, a glorified version of the games.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I pale, wondering how that would have felt, to have been chosen to die by your neighbours or family. Even if you had come back, would you have trusted anyone ever again?

"On the fiftieth anniversary," the president continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

Twice as much death, twice as much carnage and a field of forty-seven dead and one winner. The odds would have been horrendous and there would have been no hope for winning.

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," says the president. I wonder what this year will be? A split arena, only female, only male, or would one have to help plan the deaths of the other?

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 which was terrifying in itself.

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 even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Everyone in the house goes still, and for a moment the words don't register. Then it hits me, existing pool of victors. Existing pool of victors means me. It means Cato.

Terror washes over me, fear paralysing my body for a moment, before I am jumping up and rushing out of the house, ignoring the shouts from behind me. I push open the door, stumbling down the stairs as I collapse on the ground, my hands burying into the grass.

The dogs have followed, circling as I scream in frustration and anger and terror.

Of course, of course, President Snow would find a way to continue to punish us. He had thought that we had failed, and if we had failed, then he had to punish us. Cato and I were now too old to be traditionally reaped, and I did not trust that he had not tampered with the cards, so he had made a way for us to go back to the Games, to be forced into fighting again where this time, one of us would not come out.

It did not matter to me that there were other victors. I knew what would happen.

My name would be pulled.

I was being forced back to the Games.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

Hiya,

So this is gonna be fun. Rue is such a sweetheart and I love Cato and Mitzi so much, they're sweethearts but yes quarter quell announcements. Hopefully the for string of this is alright because I'm about to get on a plane.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx