This is kind of a new thing that I'm working on. I hope you enjoy.

The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.

Bear with me as there are some time changes in the chapter.

Look to the West

Chapter One: Kings and Queens

Every day I wake up to her.

She follows me through my day, scolding me about my morning breakfast of booze, through my lonely walks in the silent forest where we all used to play. Prim talks to me about Katniss, her twin sister, and about Gale, who can hardly look at me without wanting to lunge at me in anger.

I used to be the leader. As children, it was the four of us—Gale, Prim, Katniss, and me.

We never understood the difference between Merchant and Seam as children.

In the woods, we were all equal. Kings and Queens of the forest, each with a quadrant of our own.

I was the North, the guide. Gale was the South, calm and collected while Katniss and Prim made up the West and East, two opposites brought together in the middle.

It was appropriate as Katniss and Prim were as different as night and day despite being twins, fraternal ones. Katniss, lovely Katniss, with her stormy, penetrating eyes and then sweet Primrose, blue eyes so clear that you could read everything in them.

It was all so different as children.

"You're talking to yourself again, Peeta," Prim says as I sit in my lonely dining room. "And, you're wasting your dinner."

I've been picking at the squirrel stew for almost two hours. Nothing seems to fill the hollowness inside of me and it almost seems wasteful to waste such a good meal on such an empty vessel.

"I'm not hungry," I manage to mumble back. "Why are you here?"

Prim shakes her head. "I don't know. You tell me."

"Maybe it's because I've finally gone insane," I reply. "Everyone seems to think so."

She gives me a smile, dazzling in the dusty room of my large home in Victors' Village. "You're just as sane as I am."

"Prim, you're dead," I tell her. "Sanity means nothing to you."

Maybe I should start from the beginning. It's always the best part.

My name is Peeta Mellark. I am eighteen years old. I am from District 12.

I am the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

I only won because she let me.

Every night, I replay those memories from two years ago in my head.

The Reaping—that horrible, fucking Reaping that changed everything.

Did I expect my name to be called? No. I had the least amount of bids put in because of my Merchant status.

But, I accepted it with dignity.

Katniss, Gale, Prim, and me—we all prepared for this, should it happen. Just because we weren't Careers, it didn't mean that we couldn't train ourselves to the best of our ability.

Since we were children, we would sneak into the woods behind the Seam. We would play our games, pretending to go into battle and learning our strengths and weaknesses from one another. Both Gale and I were strong though my dark-haired male companion had more combat skills due to having been in many fights before. Being a Seam child always made you the butt of the Merchant group's jokes.

Katniss was a top-notch archer, so skilled that she could hit a squirrel right between the eyes. I often spent afternoons just watching her practice, admiring the taut toned muscle as she pulled her arm back to aim.

Prim was our healer, able to tell which plants would save you and which would kill you. She could make a splint out of sticks and bandages from leaves.

We were ready if any one of us was called.

We weren't ready when it was two of us.

I remember everything about that day. The even greater starkness of our District, the blinding colors of escort Effie Trinket's outfit, and those sad, grey eyes staring up at me as I stood on the platform.

Effie usually called out the female Tribute's names first but was momentarily distracted by Haymitch Abernathy, the lone Victor of District 12, nearly falling off his chair in a drunken stupor.

So, I was called first.

I remember Gale squeezing my shoulder, almost painfully, because of his shock.

Giving a brief nod, I accepted my fate and walked up to let Effie coo over my so-called handsome Merchant features.

Then, she was reaching into the glass bowl with names of the females of our district.

Clearing her throat as she unfolded the piece of paper, her posh Capitol accent said the name that none of us expected:

"Katniss Everdeen."

God, not her. Why her?

Katniss, proud and pretty in her mother's blue dress, stepped out of from where she stood and began to walk towards me, her eyes full of tears.

"I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!"

Prim, suddenly closer to the stage, stepped in front of her sister and her eyes went to mine. She turned to Katniss, speaking to her briefly and kissing her forehead before walking up to join me. Gale collected a hysterically sobbing Katniss, practically carrying her back to her spot in the crowd.

"Our first volunteer," Effie said into the microphone in stunned disbelief. "What is your name, my dear?"

"Primrose Everdeen," my friend responded in a strong, clear voice.

"And, I'm guessing that young lady was your sister," Effie continued.

Prim's voice caught as she responded, "Yes, my twin sister."

The next morning I wake up to a knock on my door.

I don't sleep in any of the bedrooms, instead opting to pass out after my whiskey dessert in the living room.

The fire I created last night had since burnt out.

This morning, Prim is not with me and I let out a small sigh of relief.

Maybe today will be a day of no memories. Today, I can let myself fall into a drunken stupor and pass out in a dreamless sleep.

Going to the door, I see a bag on the porch.

Looking inside, there lies a wild turkey.

"The girl dropped it off," a voice yells out at me.

I look across at the house opposite of mine to Haymitch Abernathy, Prim and my former mentor.

He used to be the town drunk until I took over.

The day that Prim died was the day he sobered up.

I nod as I peer into the bag at the lifeless creature. What a waste of good meat.

"You should invite Haymitch over." I whip around to see Prim sitting on the stairs in the simple white dress that she wore for her interview with Caesar Flickerman. The goal was to make her look pure—the beacon in the greyness of District 12. "He gets so sad sometimes."

I close the door behind me, ignoring Haymitch's calls of concern. "We're all a little sad."

Prim peeks into the bag that I've left at the door. "Katniss still remembers your favorite."

"It does her little good," I reply to her sister. "She should be worrying about other things. Like what's going to happen to her and your mother."

"Have you ever thought of asking her?" Prim responds, hardness in her voice. "She's only eighteen, Peeta, and she has very little options. Not like you."

"What do I have here?" I spit out at her in anger. "An empty house, lots of booze, and the ghost of one of my best friends!"

"You have a chance to change things!" Prim yells back. "You have a chance to help her! To help me!"

"How the fuck could I help you?" I ask her as I crumble against the stairs next to her. "I couldn't help you before."

"Peeta. What are you thinking about?"

In the dark cave, I turn to Prim, who is lying next to me.

Her blue eyes have faded in exhaustion as it has been days since we've been able to hunt for food. The Gamemakers have decided to let a windy, torrential rain fall through the arena.

There is no way for either of us to hunt as all animals have gone into hiding from the wet weather.

"How I want to see the stars," I tell her and swallow the hunger in my empty belly. "It's been so long since we've seen real sky."

"North Star." Her nickname for me. "What direction are you looking in?"

"The West. Always the West," I tell her and she grips my hand painfully in agreement.

"Look to the West," she says quietly, her head falling against my shoulder as she tries to hide her tears from the cameras. "Makidada…"

"What does that mean?" I ask her as I meet her eyes. I search my memories for the one other moment that I've heard the word from her mouth.

"Never you mind, Peeta," Prim tells me. "Now go to sleep."

On Saturdays, I help my father in our bakery. My brothers work the front counter as no one wants to see the Mellark recluse. My own mother can hardly stand to look at me, even more so now.

She had doted on Prim as a lot of people had.

And, like a lot of other people, she blames me for her death.

"Gently, Peeta," my father guides me softly. "Knead gently."

I look up from the dough I'm working on and give him a smile that can't quite reach my ears. "Thanks, Dad."

"Have you been sleeping?" he asks in concern.

"No, Mr. Mellark." I jump when Prim's voice suddenly echoes in the quiet kitchen. "He has nothing but nightmares."

"Be quiet," I hiss at her and my father's eyes widen at my outburst. "Sorry, Dad. I've been trying to."

"Well, keep trying," he responds in uncertainty before going to check one of the ovens.

"Peeta, can you look for Katniss?" Prim asks anxiously. "I mean, it's the one day that you actually come to town."

"No," I tell her quickly as I make sure that my Dad isn't looking. "I have to work."

"Go on a break," she urges. "You need one. Go check on her."

I shake my head sharply once. "No."

She throws flour at my face and I sneeze.

"Peeta, do you need to step outside?" Dad asks anxiously.

Her mouth is at the side of my head. "Say yes…say yes…"

"Okay yes!" I shout.

The dough I'm working on is now over-kneaded.

I look over at my Dad who is gripping the bottom of his apron, a tense expression on his weary face.

"I'll be back," I mumble and rush out the door before he can respond.

As I head over to the Seam, I pass the Justice Building and cringe at the foreboding structure. I can almost see my younger self and Prim, hands joined, as we hold up the District 12 sign, our three middle fingers up as we bid goodbye to our home for what might have been forever.

How brave we thought we were.

The Seam is close to the forest where we used to play and I watch Prim wander over to the boundary.

"Look, Peeta," she says to me and points at the broken part of the fence. "I bet that Katniss and Gale still hunt together."

I look down at my feet, not wanting anyone to see me talking to nothing. "It's most likely just Katniss. Gale is working in the mines now."

Prim's smile falters as she joins my side. "He never wanted to be underground."

Turning to her, I give her a half-smile. "We are all doing things that we don't want to do, Prim."

"What are you doing?" Prim asks crossly.

"Breathing," I respond before stopping in front of the Everdeen house.

Prim rushes over to the pen at the side of the house to see if Lady, her goat, is still around as I knock tentatively on the weathered door.

For a moment, no one comes to it and I wonder if Katniss has decided, like everyone else, to shun me.

When Prim returns, there's a shuffle behind the door.

Slowly as it opens, I see nothing but large, almond-shaped grey eyes and hanging raven hair in front of me.

My breath catches in my throat because even though she is only a half-life of her former self, Katniss is still as beautiful as I remember.

"Peeta?"

Katniss emerges out of her house and approaches me, her father's olive coat wrapped around her gaunt frame. Looking around nervously to make sure that no one is around, she takes my hand to pull me around to the back of the house.

Her hand is warm and soft though I can feel that bit of roughness on her index and middle fingers from shooting. It's the first time in a while that anyone has touched me willingly and what is left of my broken spirit craves the contact.

Prim follows us, her eyes glued to her sister. "She's grown much more beautiful—but her eyes…I don't see my sister in them anymore."

"What am I supposed to say?" I ask under my breath so Katniss doesn't hear me.

Katniss leads me over to Lady's pen and I'm surprised to see Prim's precious goat still alive. Something in me thought that Katniss might have sold her away because it would be too painful to see her.

Prim looks at me in confusion. "I don't know." She looks down at her hands. "I know that I needed to tell her something..." I watch her approach Katniss who nervously pulls out chairs for us to sit on. "I miss her so much."

"Me, too," I find myself saying.

Katniss turns to me as she sits down. "What?"

"Uh…" I search my mind uneasily as years of hiding away from people have left me unable to speak properly. "…I missed you."

"Oh." Katniss looks down at her trembling hands before meeting my eyes. "I hope that you're getting the meat I've been leaving. Your brothers tell me that you're nothing but skin and bones. By the looks of you, it's true."

I didn't realize how thin my skin has become. I'm practically translucent—a living ghost, really.

"I didn't know that you checked up on me," I say quietly.

"It's what Prim would have wanted me to do," Katniss responded, her voice suddenly breaking. My hand itches to take hers, to bring her the small comfort that her short touch gave me, but I hold back.

I'm too scared; it hurt to be rejected by the people of District 12.

Being rejected by her would break me completely.

"I should have checked on you," I apologize. "I should have told you about those last few days—"

Katniss shoots up in her seat. "No…" I can hear the sob in her voice as she turns away. "…you were heartbroken…you lost the person that you loved the most…"

I jump from my chair. "No!"

Prim watches, her eyes fleeting between us. She used to do this when we were kids.

It's how she realized my secret.

My hand shakily goes to Katniss' back and I realize how she, herself, is as thin as a rail.

"No," I respond, my voice tight. "You lost the person that you loved the most—"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Gale Hawthorne suddenly stands in front of us—tall, strong, and radiating a burning hate for me in his stone-colored eyes.

"Oh gosh, Gale has gotten so big," Prim whispers next to me. "I guess even in the darkness, you can grow…"

I try to suppress a smile but Gale catches it anyway. "You think that it's funny? There you are living in that fancy house while the rest of us suffer. While Katniss and her mother struggle to make ends meet! Do you feel good taking food from a family because your brothers are going around saying that you've gone off the deep end?"

He is standing over me and though I know I should be scared, I've always been expecting this, in a way.

Gale resented me for so many things. He never liked being the South to my North though he brushed it off. He also hated that despite his brute strength, I found ways to overpower him when we sparred.

We were just boys then.

Now we're men and as always, I accept his challenge.

"Gale, leave him alone," Katniss protests as she stands in front of me, "He just came to thank me—"

"Took him long enough." Gale walks past her and to me. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Prim is looking at him in disbelief. "Why is he like this?"

"Because he's hates me for taking you away," I tell her without even thinking.

Gale stops and looks around. "Who are you talking to?"

"It's not important," I respond and look him in the eyes. I remove my simple overcoat and Katniss gasps. Obviously, I have not been carrying sacks of flour like I used to. I know how emaciated I look but I've never let Gale scare me—and I'm not about to start. "You want to hit me then do it."

Prim puts her hands up. "Peeta, don't!"

Katniss is rushing towards us. "Gale, don't!"

The sharp pain to my head comes quickly and as I hit the ground, I hear a loud snap through my body.

Then, it all goes black.

Rue is dead. So is her partner, Thresh—and now the last of the Careers, Cato.

Mutts chased us to the Cornucopia.

Horrible mutts with the eyes of our fellow Tributes. The thought shakes my insides.

Especially the thought of the one with Rue's deep brown eyes.

We had befriended the young girl during my supposed alliance with the Careers.

Prim and I had planned it all along. The best way to kill them off was to start from the inside. We didn't expect the pretty little girl from District 11 to keep such close eyes on us, and to help Prim cut down the Tracker Jacker hive that took down Glimmer, the District 1 female Tribute.

I had already been running out to our meeting place by the time the hive hit the ground.

We spent two days with Rue, telling her about our life in District 12—of Gale, of Katniss, and how we were the Kings and Queens of the forest.

On the last day, when I had destroyed the Careers' supplies and Prim had stabbed Clove from District 2 during a fight, we made Rue our very own Princess.

Marvel, Glimmer's counterpart, had found the little girl, sending a spear through her stomach as she waited in our meeting spot.

I had arrived too late but I sent an arrow to his chest. It is still the only kill that I feel good about.

Prim had lost it, screaming into the air as she cradled Rue in her arms.

I still see her blood-stained hands when I close my eyes. Prim's creamy skin had never been tainted. She had always been the neat one. Katniss had always been the one who enjoyed running through the mud with me.

"We have to clean her up before they take her," I whispered in her ear. "Give her some dignity. Let her District know that she didn't die in vain."

Nodding frantically, Prim wiped her tears away as she gently laid Rue down in the grass. Together, we fixed her hair and zipped up her jacket so her wound was unseen. I made sure that her shoes were properly tied.

When Prim disappeared, I gathered wildflowers for Rue to hold.

Placing them in her small hands, I leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Watch over us, Princess."

Prim is suddenly next to me, a small daisy chain crown in her hands.

Carefully, she placed it on Rue's head and together, we stand up to embrace each other.

"I'm so tired, Peeta…" Prim's sobs shake me to the core.

"No." I take her face in my hands. "Remember. Look to the West."

"R-R-Right," she agreed shakily. "And, we're the only ones left except for Cato and Thresh."

We left then, but not before holding up the District 12 sign, knowing that Rue's family could see us.

Now, as I help Prim down from the Cornucopia, I look around and wait for the announcement to declare us winners of the 74th Hunger Games.

But, instead—

"Attention, remaining Tributes—the previous rule…has been revoked. There can only be one Victor. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Prim and I look to one another. I almost want to laugh at the absurdity and cruelty of it all.

I take Prim's hand and placed within it the dagger that she used to kill Clove.

"Just like we practiced," I tell her as I put the knife to my carotid artery. "We knew that this might happen."

Prim nods, her eyes intent. I know she doesn't want to, but we have a plan.

I'm sticking to it.

"It doesn't have to be this way."

"Yes, it does," I assure her. "It's okay." I breathe deeply and feel the blade against my skin. "Always—remember?"

"I remember," she says in a soft voice. "Close your eyes, Peeta."

Closing my eyes, I feel a peaceful calm come over me and embrace the thought that I'll be somewhere watching over her.

Maybe one day, she'll even name her son after me.

Death doesn't come, however.

Instead of blood filling my throat, I taste warm salted tears against my lips and I open my eyes panicked to see that Prim has dropped the dagger at my feet.

Pulling away quickly, Prim stares at me, a blue smile on her pink lips. "I've never been kissed before." She looks up at the fake arena sky. "I'm sorry!"

Then that word again—it comes out in single breath.

"Makidada…"

Her hand reaches into the pocket of her jacket and she pulls out a handful of dark, round berries.

Her eyes meet mine and Prim gives me a tear-filled smile. "Peeta…"

I rush towards her. "PRIM, NO—"

But, she swallows the berries in one gulp and the cannon sounds as Prim falls to the ground.

This wasn't part of the plan. We had a plan.

I'm reaching for her, pressing her mouth to mine, and trying to breathe life back to her lifeless body.

Or, maybe I'm trying to take the little bit of nightlock that might be left against her lips…

All I know is that as Claudius Templesmith announces my name and declares that I am now the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games, I am clinging onto the body of one of my best friends before Peacekeepers pull me away to sedate me.

Since I'm sure you're curious, the word 'Makidada' roughly translates to 'little sister' in Swahili.

We'll learn about that in a later part of the story.

No, there was never a thing between Prim and Peeta. I'm sure you're wondering about that, too.

As always, feedback is always welcomed.

I will see you in the next chapter.

-JLaLa