Work Text:
Knock knock knock.
Katniss and Peeta shoot up. Katniss, her eyes puffy from sleep, blinks away her interrupted dreams. Peeta detangles himself from Katniss’ limbs, stretching his arms.
Knock knock knock.
“UGGHHH,” Katniss throws a pillow over her head. “Peeta… Please get that.”
“Why do I have to?” Peeta grumbles as he buries himself back into the blankets.
“Because I want you to. And you love me enough to do it…”
Katniss pulls the blankets off of Peeta’s face, kissing him gently. He breaks out in a small smile, then grabs Katniss, pulling her into him. She laughs wildly, fighting to get away.
BANG BANG BANG.
Katniss and Peeta freeze.
“Maybe if we’re quiet they’ll go away…” Peeta whispers.
“I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE! Open the door, Peeta!” Haymitch yells from downstairs.
Peeta laughs, throwing the blanket off him and Katniss. She groans, pulling herself out of bed.
“Come on, baby,” Peeta says, grabbing Katniss’ hand.
“He has his own key, you know. He woke us up for nothing…”
Katniss and Peeta make their way out of their bedroom and down the stairs where they see Haymitch waiting through the window. Katniss unlocks the door, opening it for him.
“Good morning, Haymitch. What a lovely and not-annoying surprise,” Katniss chimes out, cocking her head with a false sweetness.
“Yeah yeah, good to see you too, sweetheart,” Haymitch says through a thin smile.
He crosses the threshold, kissing Katniss on the cheek and patting Peeta on the back.
“So to what do we owe this lovely pleasure?” Peeta says, heading towards the kitchen.
The three sit down at the island, Peeta turning on the tea kettle.
Haymitch sets down a large package marked “To The Victors of District Twelve.”
“What’s that?” Katniss asks, pulling it over to her.
“It’s from the Capitol,” Haymitch says tensely.
Katniss and Peeta warily make eye contact, fear rising in their stomachs. Since the Rebellion ended, hearing from the Capitol isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it’s nice letters from those they’ve worked with, care packages from different companies, or even medals of honor. But after everything they’ve all been through, hearing from the Capitol only drudges up terrible memories and foreboding thoughts.
“Who’s it from?” Katniss asks, face hard.
“Only one way to find out,” Haymitch pulls a pair of scissors from the island drawer, handing them to Peeta.
Peeta locks eyes with Katniss, communicating with her silently. Katniss, having her curiosity get the better of her, nods. With this, Peeta slices the tape, opening the package.
All that’s inside is a handwritten note and a small, mechanical box.
Haymitch takes the note, opening it. He begins to read:
“To the Victors of District Twelve: Deep in the Gamemaker’s vault laid this tape of the tenth Hunger Games. It’s the only recording of it that remains. After the disasters that ensued… No one dared to speak of it ever again. Yet when I look back on the seventy-five years of the Hunger Games, my mind always, against my will, wanders to that tenth year. To the young, spritely, talented, tender-hearted, girl who fought for her life. Though her ending remains a mystery, it’s only fair that the solidity of her past is known to all—at least to those who share her identity. When I heard the tape was found, I knew you three deserved to have a copy. For your sake, it’s been heavily edited, leaving behind the moments we deemed most important. I hope you love her and find what we all saw in her: Hope. Tenderness. Passion. Not a day goes by that I haven’t thought about her—thought about our songbird. Now, with the Games and Coriolanus Snow gone, I hope her memory can soar even further. As you’ll see, Katniss, she’s already lived on through you. So, it’s my pleasure to introduce to you, the Victor of the Tenth Hunger Games, from your very own District Twelve, Lucy Gray Baird. Most sincerely, Tigris Snow.”
Haymitch sighs, throwing down the letter. He rubs his eyes.
“Snow? Tigris—she’s related to…” Katniss’ voice falters. “To… him ?”
“Apparently…” Haymitch opens up the letter again, running his eyes over the neatly penned script.
“Lucy Gray Baird…” Peeta says the name slowly, making sense of things. Each word is independent from the last as the foreign name becomes familiar to him. “Did you know about her?”
“We all knew there was one victor before me… but no one ever talked about her,” Haymitch takes the small, metal box in his hands.
“Well, why does no one talk about the tenth games? Every year was horrific—how much different could this have been?” Katniss asks, bile rising in her throat.
Haymitch takes a deep breath. “I heard rumors from the older Victors. From the elderly, drunken Capitol citizens who had loose lips. Nothing was ever certain. But what I gathered was… was that these games were entirely out of the Capitol’s control. It was a nightmare for everyone. Especially the gamemakers. They looked like fools,” Haymitch takes a breath, “Doesn’t seem like a thing they’d want to relive every year.”
Haymitch clicks the blue button on the top of the box. The sides whirr apart, falling flat to the table. A small rod rises, stretching out at the top. A hologram screen glows, and the tenth Hunger Games seal appears in the air.
Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch clutch their cups of tea and stare at the screen intently as Lucy Gray Baird’s name is drawn from the Reaping bowl. The minute she starts to sing, Katniss perks up.
“Oh my god…” Peeta whispers.
“ You can’t take my charm. You can’t take my humor. You can’t take my wealth,’cause it’s just a rumor…”
Haymitch lets out a slow chuckle. “And you thought you were so original…”
Katniss elbows him. She turns back to the screen, completely enamored.
The Reaping ends and the footage cuts to the interview. Lucy Gray stands on the stage, her radiance shining past her fear and heartbreak, touching every soul in the audience.
“And I am the one who you let see you weeping. I know the soul that you struggle to save. Too bad I’m the bet that you lost in the reaping. Now what will you do when I go to my grave?”
Katniss and Peeta bashfully wipe tears away from their eyes. Katniss puts her hands on the back of her neck. Haymitch reaches over, wrapping her in his arms.
As the rainbow of destruction slithers its way up the ruins of the arena, wrapping itself around Lucy Gray, Katniss grows tense. She’s on the edge of her seat, eyes brimming with tears, feeling fully, utterly, and entirely understood.
“ When I’ve learned how to love, right here in the old therebefore, then nothing is left anymore…”
The screen goes black. Katniss turns to Peeta. “She’s… amazing,” Katniss breathes out.
Haymitch fishes a note out of the metal box. It’s worn and ripped. He unfolds it, quickly reading. Then, he begins to laugh. Full blown belly laughing, slapping his knees, clutching the stitches in his side. Peeta is mortified.
“Haymitch! What the hell’s the matter with you?” Peeta bellows.
Between laughs, Haymitch spits out: “It’s a note from Dr. Gaul. It says here that Lucy Gray only won because she cheated—because her mentor, Coriolanus Snow, cheated for her.”
Katniss and Peeta do not laugh. This information sobers them.
“Snow…?” Katniss whispers to herself.
“How is that funny?” Peeta bites.
“Don’t you get it, boy?” Haymitch’s laughing slows down. “Every victor that District Twelve ever had won by cheating .”
Peeta and Katniss stare at him, shocked.
“Lucy Gray cheated with rat poison and tempered with the mutts; I used the force-fields; and you two had your little berry stunt. All of us… we’re dishonest, dirty cheaters who don’t play by the Capitol’s rules,” Haymitch’s laughing picks back up. “The pride and joy of District Twelve!”
Katniss smiles slowly. “I’m sure Snow HATED that…”
Peeta reaches for the hologram box, clicking a few silver buttons. “Hold on…
Suddenly, an image of a young girl pops up. She’s like a ray of sunshine in a bottle, but behind her huge eyes is an irreparable sadness. A sadness Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch know all too well.
The footage of this young girl comes from what appears to be a hidden camera. She sits in the Hob—which is bustling and warm and brimming with drunk faces—talking to an older man.
“Maude Ivory, what do you remember of Lucy Gray Baird?” The man asks, sipping his drink.
Maude Ivory thinks for a moment. Then, in a sing-songy voice—much like Lucy Gray herself—she chirps out: “She was the kindest person I ever knew. The most talented, too. Thunderstorms couldn’t dull her sunshine.”
“What did she do…” the man gestures around, “...here?”
“Well, she sang, of course. If there was one thing she was gonna do, it was sing. Singing came quicker to her than talking did. You know she wrote all her own songs? Like The Hanging Tree—that was her newest one. It’s become a real big thing here in Twelve, but people are having a hard time getting the lyrics straight. Luckily for us, I can remember anything set to a tune. All of it, everything she did…” Maude Ivory points to her temples, “...is all up here.”
The video cuts to black. The box shrinks back into itself. Katniss stares at it in horror. Slowly, ever so slowly, she looks up at Peeta.
“Did… Did she say what I think she said?”
Haymitch, in an equal state of shock, turns to her. “That Lucy Gray wrote The Hanging Tree? The song you used to motivate the rebellion that led to the death of President Snow? Yeah… yeah… she did say that.”
Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch all stare at each other for a moment. Then, they all burst out laughing. It’s a deranged, unstable kind of laughter that should make them worry for each other. But, instead, they slam on the table, wipe away their tears, and clutch each other.
“God, Lucy Gray got that fucker back good…” Katniss laughs, taking deep breaths.
Haymitch pulls out a shiny flask, pouring a small splash in each of their mugs.
“To Lucy Gray—the original Mockingjay,” Haymitch says, lifting his drink.
“To Lucy Gray!” Peeta and Katniss cheer, meeting his cup in the middle.
They clink drinks, take a sip, and begin laughing again. And for the first time ever, it feels like all the victors of District Twelve are together in harmony.