"Azalea, right?" Zea looked up as they waited for the interviews to begin and found Alicia, the District 4 girl, sitting in front of her, smiling at her. "I heard we're allies." She bit her bottom lip and looked around at the rest of the tributes. "Um, me, you, Connor and Ashter of course. As was the arrangement."
"Yes," Azalea nodded. "Thank you, Alicia," and smiled warmly at Esme's female tribute. "Did you talk to Regina and the Prince of District 1 or will it just be the four of us?"
Alicia blinked at her then laughed. "Sorry, that sounded... like we were going to the beach, not the arena," she shrugged. "For all I know we might just take Regina, Prince seems pretty blinded by the idea of being an ally with District 2."
"Because," the District 2 girl called, "our district has the most winners in the history of the Games, while yours has how many, fish girl? And yours, Miss Mellark?" she turned to Azalea in a mocking tone. "You will die first in the arena. If it depends on me. And that depends."
"How exactly?" Azalea cocked her head to one side. "You will kill me? Oh dear, think about it. Or they didn't teach you how to think in District 2. No wonder." The girl snorted and Azalea turned back to Alicia. "I heard you wanted us to take District 7 as well?"
"Yeah, because of Johanna Mason and Finnick, but..."
Azalea frowned. Was this stupid gossip going on? Johanna – who had no interest in men at all – and Finnick – who had absolutely no interest in such stories, who over the years had become the cool uncle to them all – being together was like her parents having an affair with President Snow – impossible.
"...they disagree. That's why we will probably be a 1-4-12 union. Which sounds great, don't you think?" Azalea nodded.
Regina stepped off the stage and headed directly for the two of them. Years ago – at the first Games that Azalea had been to the Capitol – the female tribute from District 1 had been dressed in a similar pink dress that was almost transparent, but not enough covering to hide the girl's body. No wonder Regina was like a storm cloud now.
"You two are my allies, right?" Regina asked with a raised blonde eyebrow. "Regina Smith," she offered her hand first to Azalea, then to Alicia. "In the arena... I'm begging you from the bottom of my soul, let me kill that whore from District 2." Regina's blue eyes met Zea's, "Or the boy. I'll be happy with either of them. I don't want to die like the beautiful fool from District 1."
Azalea licked her lips. What kind of society had they become? The girls of District 1 were bound to be beautiful fools. The Girls of District 4 – something like that. From District 2 were all those morons who believed that war was their only nature. And all these were some stereotypes that the Capitol created, taking advantage of people's prejudices.
"They're both yours," Azalea smiled. "No. In fact. Only he. I want to finish this one myself."
Regina grinned at her. "Okay," she leaned down and kissed Azalea's cheek. "Oh, before I forget. When we get rid of the idiots from 2, I'll be the one to kill Prince, okay, sweetie?"
And I'll be the one to kill you, a voice chirped in Azalea's head. She just smiled at Regina though. "Of course. What are allies for," she whispered before Regina walked away.
Alicia was pale. "Well... I... then..."
"I think it's your turn for the interview," Azalea smiled as the roaring District 3 boy got off the stage and ran into Beethee's arms. "Luck."
***
Azalea looked in the mirror as the boy from District 11 entered the scene.
Cinna had made an impressive dress of fire azaleas, as he had done for the parade. Honestly, she had no idea what exactly her stylist was doing, but - as her mother had said - she had to trust Cinna and her prep team. Her blonde hair was done in something like an up-do with two simple braids, with black, red and orange azaleas tucked into them as if they were trying to create the illusion of fire in her hair. As Finnick had said, a fire goddess.
"Thank you Sorel!" the crowd erupted in applause. "And now, ladies and gentlemen! A person that you all know will appear on the stage. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome the one and only – District 12's female tribute – Azalea Mellark!"
If a second ago the crowd had erupted, now the whole world had erupted in applause. Because this was Azalea Mellark, this was the daughter of the Capitol's favorite two victors. And the moment they saw the dress, the makeup, the hair, everything exploded once more. Because she wasn't Katniss and Peeta's little girl anymore. She was now Azalea Mellark, the Fire Goddess of District 12, in the eyes of the whole world.
Caesar smiled brightly as she approached him. "Welcome, welcome, dear Azalea!" he kissed both of her cheeks, "You look amazing. Midnight. On the roof. Bring Katniss."
When they parted, the smile never left Azalea's face. Another game. "You know I'm always happy to be your guest Caesar," Azalea sat down on the couch. "However, I heard that the entire Capitol is waiting for you to ask me one question. Is that so, friends?" even the last clap sank into the deepest silence Azalea knew. Her eyes locked on Caesar's.
"Well well. I admit it doesn't happen to me often, but... my dear Azalea, I can't even find the words," Caesar laughed. "12! Score 12! Ha! How?"
"Oh," Azalea waved her hand slightly. "It is a secret, Caesar. I can't tell you." The audience laughed at the way he cut him off. "Am I right?" she turned to the gamemakers, who were nodding so quickly that Zea could barely see the movement in the gloom. Aeneas winked at her. She gave him one of her true smiles and turned back to Caesar. "The other thing, Caesar."
"Honey, there are too many things I want to ask you!" Caesar laughed. "And starting with your score, I moved on to the rumors about your love affair, and I should ask about your parents..." Caesar shook his head. "Azalea, you are the talk of the town about... every day."
She rolled her eyes. "Isn't that good, Caesar?"
"Oh, my dear, of course it's good! But – if we had more time... so I'll just talk about the Games, I hope you don't mind. So... Azalea, how does it feel? 16 years ago your parents were in this position. Tributes. Now here you are. Do you feel... shall we say, fear?"
"Of course, Caesar," she smiled softly at the audience. "I watch The Hunger Games every year. I see what they do to people." Now or never, she had told herself that morning. If she was going to enter this life a victor, she was going to do it on her own terms. "These Games will be no different."
"But do you think you'll walk out of this arena victorious?" Caesar had frowned ever so slightly as if to tell her to stop.
However, Zea had no such intention. "It doesn't matter who wins. Either way there will be 23 broken families. I want," she turned to the audience, to these ridiculous creatures. "Actually, I'm begging you. Think if those in the arena were your children."
"In a sense," Caesar's voice was no longer so joyful, no longer so carefree, "a child of ours is in the arena. You." Azalea smiled weakly at Caesar. Because at that moment some unspoken words passed between them. You are what connects the Capitol and the Districts.
"And how does that make you feel? How does it feel for you, Caesar, to have watched me grow up – racing, picking up your child from school... How does it feel," she turned to the audience, "for the third year in a row to watch one of your children enter the arena and fight for his life?"
"Devastating," Caesar whispered beside her. "This is devastating for all of us." Azalea turned to him again and met the tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry... but... you've grown up so fast. When we celebrated your coming to the Capitol, remember?" he shook his head. "And now we send you to the arena. For a win, I hope. The entire Capitol is praying for it, Azalea."
Azalea felt like snorting. Did they pray for her? They'd forget her the moment someone came out with a prettier face and more potential to win The Hunger Games. "Thank you," Azalea bowed her head slightly. Presentation. It was all an ordinary performance. "I love you all, I hope you know that," her eyes swept the audience. "And... please remember who the real enemy is."
"Let's thank Azalea Mellark!" Caesar jumped up from his seat. "The District 12's Female Tribute!"
***
Katniss and Azalea sat in the shadows on the roof of the tribute center. "And you're sure he asked us to be here? The two of us?" Azalea nodded. "Why not your father? Haymitch? He always liked them better." Her mother's hand caressed her arm lightly. "How are you? No sarcasm, if you please."
"Mom, I signed your death warrant tonight. After I survive the Hunger Games, if I don't play by his rules, you're all dead," Azalea's eyes met her mother's. "I love you and that's enough for him to kill you. You and dad and the boys and Esme and Aphrodite. Everyone I've ever cared about."
"No Aeneas."
"He's not going to kill Aeneas."
"So use him." Azalea turned sharply to her mother, eyebrows raised. "My dear, you'll never survive as a victor if you don't think things through at least two steps ahead."
Two steps ahead? What could...
Azalea blinked. If she used Aeneas—the only person Snow cared more or less about—she could save those around her. If Neas was on her side, if he cared about her, about the people around her... then maybe there was a chance to make things right. At least for a little bit.
"Good evening ladies," Caesar's voice came from the shadows.
Katniss and Azalea turned there together – as they had done for years in the forest. As they would continue to do. Because where most people saw mother and daughter, Zea was the part of Katniss that complemented her, that made her better, but at the same time kept her.
Azalea scowled at the man who stepped out of the shadows. This was not Caesar. Not as she knew him - always childishly cocky, always optimistic. This Caesar was gloomy and slightly frowning. This Caesar – yes – was dressed in a glittering suit, but it was just the suit. He didn't have that fantastic aura that lured all of Panem to listen to his words. That Caesar who turned her parents into a sensation and her into the daughter of the Capitol was gone. His blue hair was disheveled, as if he had run furious fingers through it for hours.
"Caesar," Katniss nodded and stood before her daughter as if to be her shield from evil and good, from everything in the world. "Well, here we are."
"You have come," Caesar nodded. "It's not my job to tell you this, but...things aren't going well. I guess," his eyes found Katniss's, "that you know what's going on in District 8." Katniss nods. "Well then you," he turned to Azalea, "must stop. To stay alive."
"You're still alive anyway," Katniss called before Azalea even had a chance to open her mouth. "Because you will help us, Caesar. One last time." He tilted his head. "Oh, no, no, no. You can't refuse me! Years ago it helped us just hey-now. Let us at least finish what we started, Caesar."
"You two will finish what you started!" Caesar almost screamed. "And you know how this is all going to end, Katniss? It will end in thousands dead, it will end in a ruined Panem – the Districts and the Capitol will be razed to the ground!" He took a step towards them. "For you both to be here, he has warned you. Warnings are over. The next one will be a punishment."
Azalea gripped her mother's wrist and called out to her—quietly like a small child seeking salvation from nightmares. Katniss Everdeen Mellark, however, stared into Caesar's eyes, without speaking, without moving.
"That's why we have to go first," Katniss said after an interminable silence. "You know something is up, Caesar. You know you can give us—"
"I didn't say I'd help," Caesar raised one hand at them. "Don't you think I would throw away my life, my family's life, for a few winners who want to play war?! I'm not even supposed to be here!"
"Then why the hell are you here?!" Katniss hissed at him.
Caesar laughed and turned slightly to Azalea. His expression softened. "I'm here because you saved him. He wanted to kill himself. He was going to kill himself but you...he said you saved him," Caesar shook his head. "He said that after that day you sat with him, you ran together... he said that you were the thing that pulled him out of the darkness. You were the light. That's why you deserve to know. And maybe that's why you deserve my help."
Azalea's grip tightened around her mother's wrist. "What do you intend to do, Caesar?"
"Panem loves a few things," he studied her face, then Katniss's. "They love the drama, they love the spectacle. And they love love." He took a deep breath and took another step forward. Caesar took Katniss' free hand. "Can you wait just another year or two?" he asked. "We all know the boy will fix things."
"Aeneas," Azalea called. "His name is Aeneas."
"It doesn't matter what his name is. The important thing is that he will not be Coriolanus Snow. What matters is that the boy is better than his grandfather, that he will stop all this suffering," Caesar finally smiled. "Don't you agree that he will change things?" He turned back to Katniss. "Just don't do anything!"
"We're not doing anything," Katniss smiled.
"Oh please, do you think she would have been at the Games if nothing had happened? If you weren't directly involved in it?" Caesar leaned down and kissed first Katniss, then Azalea on both cheeks. "Good luck tomorrow, Azalea. May the odds always be in your favor."
***
In the wee hours of the night, Katniss shifted in her husband's arms, no longer able to pretend she was asleep, that she was unable to hear her and his hearts beating together as one, that she couldn't feel how they were both going to this time lose something more precious than their lives, something more precious than the world. She turned to him, blue eyes finding her gray ones.
"It's going to be okay," Peeta stroked her arm slowly, trying to catch her fear, wash it out of her, and wipe it off the face of the earth. "At least believe me, if not Zea."
"Why does he have to decide these things?" she whispered so quietly that for a moment she had to struggle to make out her own words. "He made us create her. He's taking her away from us. He keeps her with him. He...I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to Azalea."
Peeta's blue eyes swept over her face. "He's not going to take her away from us, Katniss. He is not capable of taking it away from us. Whatever happens, wherever she goes, Azalea is our daughter, our little girl..."
"Our cookie," Katniss's eyes filled with tears.
"Yes. Our cookie," he smiled. "She's strong, she's brave and she's smart. He will survive. And then he will fight his turn. She will be his poison, Katniss. That's why we made her."
"I'd like to believe we made her out of love."
Peeta laughed loudly and cheerfully like he'd never laughed in the Capitol. How he laughed only and only at home, when it was the five of them, sitting around the kitchen table or in the living room, telling each other some distant stories. "Naturally, we created her out of love. Her and the twins. We're talking about our little girl's other goal."
"Remember when she was little...you took her to the bakery with you because I...I have no idea what I was doing, but I was doing something," he reached up and moved a lock of hair behind her ear. "And you came home covered in flour, and your father said," Katniss laughed, "that she decided to be the victor of the Hunger Games."
Peeta laughed again, a little quieter this time. His eyes sparkled just like Azalea's. "I...I will always remember the day she was born. Then... even if I had doubts that she wasn't mine, it all evaporated. I loved her so much at that moment that I couldn't imagine ever being separated from her. She was so tiny, remember? She barely fit in one of my hands." He shook his head and opened his eyes for a moment. "I remember it like it was yesterday. Or her laughing in our arms early in the morning. Her, you, the boys, you are my reason to go on, Katniss... with everything."
Katniss placed a hand on her husband's cheek. She didn't need to tell him all that. She didn't need to repeat it to him. Peeta Mellark already knew that to his wife, the family they had created—Azalea, Carter, Jeremy, and the two of them—was everything. "Do you...think we should tell her?"
"About that thing?" Peeta raised his eyebrows, his arms wrapping around her body. "I don't know... She deserves to know, but she's still too young for all of this. Of rebellion and war, and... but on the other hand, she must know. I really don't know, Katniss." He shook his head and rested his chin on his wife's head. "She's just a kid. They're all just kids."
"We were all just kids forced to grow up. Forced to fight someone else's battles. I don't want my children to live in this world. I never wanted to."
"I know. But Azalea lives in it. Maybe...we'll make things right for the boys. It's about time, don't you think?" Peeta kissed the top of her head. "Tomorrow...tomorrow I'll tell Finnick and Jo that we agree. Is that okay?"
"That woman's going to get Azalea out of the arena, right?"
"She wouldn't risk losing her chance to win against the Capitol, dear."