Knots

fandom: the hunger games
characters/pairings: gale hawthorne, madge undersee, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, haymitch abernathy, effie trinket/gale x madge, gale x katniss, peeta x katniss, haymitch x maysilee (implied)
setting: catching fire (au)
description: he thinks the most she's ever had to deal with is the knots in her golden hair. still, he teaches her how to knot snares and shoot arrows and climb trees. somehow her fingers ended up knotted in his along the way.
summary: snow's rule change extends the age bracket of eligible candidates for reaping to anyone above the age of twelve. madge volunteers for her mother, and gale's name is pulled out of the reaping bowl. chaos, tragedy, love ensues.
a/n: apologies if the timeline or any other details seem a little screwy. but it is au, so i'm just exercising my authority to have minimal regard for canon :-)
the name 'marigold undersee née donner' is taken from medea smyke. i just can't imagine mrs. undersee being called anything else after reading her fantastic gale x madge fics, which i strongly recommend you check out!

There's a collective intake of breath throughout the country as Snow announces the much anticipated twist for the third Quarter Quell. Kids look nervously to their parents. Wide-eyed and innocent. What does this mean?

It means that you might have to suffer through watching your father battle to the death instead of the other way around.

It means that your pregnant mother's name has been put in the reaping bowl.

It means that your grandparents, with their brittle bones and arthritic hands and weary smiles could be going to the Games.

It means that if the odds aren't in your favour, you might be an orphan by the time these Games are through.

Madge Undersee is terrified.

Her father sent her to bed an hour ago, but it'd be a cold day in hell when she could possibly sleep at a time like this. She hates Romulus Thread. Hates his ruddy face and leering grin. Yellow teeth and bloodshot eyes. Hates his hands, hands capable of inflicting such terror within the district she now hates to call home.

Romulus Thread is in her house. Downstairs, exchanging words with her father that had once been quiet but were now angered, yelling blows. Madge momentarily finds herself wishing she could be like her mother, in a morphling-induced, worriless sleep.

"Your so-called peacekeepers are doing nothing for this district, Thread!"

"Watch your tone, Undersee. It's about time you Twelve scum learnt your place in Panem. Snow's not happy with the leniency you've been so freely exercising over the last year."

"Building the gallows will only rile them up more. If the President's worried, he should be taking that matter up with me, not punishing the entire district."

Thread laughs. Derisive and mocking, like fingernails down a chalkboard or the sound a cat makes when its tail is stepped on. Shudders cascade down Madge's spine, and she clutches the railing of the stairs where she's lingering.

"The President's got more important things to worry about, Mayor. But if you so desire, I'll make sure he's brought up to speed on your interest in the wellbeing of Panem."

There's a pregnant pause, and Madge wishes she could see their expressions. She knows things have changed around Twelve, but if her father is trying to oppose them, they're obviously far worse than she initially thought.

"I think it's time for you to leave." Her father's words are clipped and cautious. As she hears footsteps, Madge stands abruptly and scuttles up the stairs back to her bedroom; trying to make sense of what she's just heard.

Gale Hawthorne is sleepless.

Sleeping has become difficult ever since the whipping. He'd spent the past eighteen years of his life sleeping on his back, and old habits certainly die hard. But comfort is only a smidgen of the reason as to why he can't succumb to a peaceful slumber.

Because there is no peace.

Because every time he closes his eyes, he sees the unmistakable smirk of Romulus Thread. Elated at the opportunity to hurt, to torture, to kill. As much as he hadn't been conscious at the time, Katniss tells him he'd been pushed to the brink of death.

Gale thinks maybe death would be kinder than the sheering agony that shoots through his back every time he twists the wrong way. Weeks later, the pain has only fractionally subsided. And the scars aren't showing any promise of fading.

Mrs. Everdeen says it's because they haven't had time to heal properly. To hell with that. Gale has a family to feed. A job to attend to. As physically demanding as mining is, the feeling of an empty stomach is worse than a few scratches on his back.

So he tosses. And he turns. And he pretends to not dread going to work every day. And he pretends to not worry about the Reaping, drawing nearer and nearer. And he pretends that he's okay with Katniss being so far away from him, living next door to the Mellark boy.

He's not sure what's worse, the insomnia or the nightmares.

Her ruffled, white dress doesn't look quite the same without the shining gold Mockingjay pinned to the front. Somehow Madge knows that the pin belongs to Katniss more than it was ever hers. Regardless, Madge doesn't want it back. Doesn't need it back.

Besides, this is her mother's first attendance at a Reaping in about five years, and Madge has a feeling that it's probably better if she doesn't look like Maysilee's ghost today.

Especially with it being the Quarter Quell, and all.

She twists her light blonde hair into a plait parted to one side and doesn't reply when her father tells her that she looks nice.

It's a strange feeling, knowing that his name is in the Reaping bowl as well.

It's not until he buttons the front of his charcoal grey shirt that it dawns on Gale. He was meant to have already suffered through his last reaping, but now there are three Hawthornes with their names in the bowl. Rory's wearing one of Gale's old shirts, and the sleeves are still a little long for him so Hazelle rolls them up.

"Mom-"Gale begins, breaking off suddenly before he says something stupid. Something like 'please don't get reaped.' Something like 'I can't volunteer for you.'

His mother smiles. A tired, yet vaguely omniscient smile. She looks pretty, with her hair pulled back into a bun and her dress void of stains and wrinkles.

So Gale tells her that, instead of saying anything else. He claps Rory on the shoulder in a fatherly way and tickles Posy's hand until she breaks out in giggles.

He wonders what Katniss is saying to Prim and her mother right now.

When her father reads the names of Twelve's past victors, Madge expects Haymitch Abernathy to drunkenly stumble on stage like he always does. She's never viewed him as a spectacle or a sorry old drunk like others do. Even if Haymitch does never look her in the eye- or, in the off chance that he does, takes a hasty sip from a silver flask afterwards.

This year, he's sober. And he's not alone in receiving the sceptical applause from the district. Katniss and Peeta have joined hands, two rings noticeable as they wave out to the audience.

Madge wishes she could be holding her mother's hand as Effie Trinket approaches the podium, comically fuchsia lips and whimsical Capitol accent. Reassuring her in gentle whispers that it's alright, it's all going to be over soon.

Sometimes Madge feels like the caretaker in their relationship.

At the words 'third Quarter Quell', she glances in her mother's direction. Madge is having difficulty remembering to be fearful for herself. All she can think about is the growing uneasiness in her mother's countenance, the way her father is nervously tapping his foot.

And then Effie Trinket's hand descends into the first bowl.

Gale tries not to look visibly sickened by Katniss and Peeta walking on stage.

Tries to at least pretend to pay attention when Mayor Undersee reads the Treaty of Treason.

Tries not to look in his mother's direction when Effie Trinket prepares herself to read the name of the female tribute.

"Marigold Undersee!"

Relief washes over him before he recognises the name. He might feel the slightest hint of guilt when he glances up to the stage and sees the look of horror on Mayor Undersee's face.

"I volunteer."

Heads turn in the search of the origin of the voice, Gale's included. Madge Undersee steps out of the crowd, fists clenched by her side. Gale recognises her dress. For a moment he thinks her eyes, blue and blazing might have landed on him, but then she's looking back to the stage.

"I volunteer as tribute." Her voice trembles slightly, but Gale can tell she's doing her best to remain composed. He cranes his head in search of Madge's mother.

Marigold Undersee has collapsed.

It was so instantaneous for Madge. It seemed like the most logical thing to do. And now, as she steps onto the stage and locks eyes with her father, she's suddenly aware of her beating heart and trembling hands. She's aware that it wasn't bad odds that made Effie Trinket pull her mother's name out of the bowl.

"And what's your name, dear?" Effie asks exuberantly. Madge bites her tongue, forcing herself to step up to the microphone.

"Madge Undersee." As Effie remarks about how brave she is to volunteer for her mother, Madge's eyes land on Romulus Thread, smirking triumphantly in her direction.

For a moment she thinks she's going to be sick, but instead she repeats a mantra over and over again in her head.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Katniss looks at her with an expression of grim understanding. Peeta's is pitying. Their hands are clenched so tightly that their knuckles are white, and Madge finds herself wishing that someone could hold her. Shake her awake from what must certainly be a nightmare.

Haymitch looks like he could use a drink now more than ever. Madge tears her gaze away from him, instead choosing to focus on her shoes. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

She's so busy focusing on keeping the tears at bay that she only looks up when Gale Hawthorne's name is pulled out of the bowl.

When an animal is aware that it's being hunted, that it's almost certainly soon to meet its death, it freezes. Numb and stupid and gives itself up to be caught.

Gale feels like that right now. He feels himself being ushered up to the stage, and he locks eyes with Katniss, who has dropped Peeta's hand and looks like she's about to throw something.

Effie Trinket asks for volunteers. Gale looks out to the crowd and locks his eyes with his kid brother. Shakes his head firmly. Gale is meant to look out for Rory, and not the other way around.

His mother is covering her mouth with a shaking hand.

The last time Gale saw her do that was when they received the news that his father was dead.

Mayor Undersee stands, motioning for the two tributes to shake hands. Gale's strong, callused fingers engulf Madge's, elegant and dainty.

Katniss told him Madge played the piano, once.

Piano playing won't help her in the arena.

Madge thinks she'll only get one visitor: her father.

Because her mother is still unconscious and she'll be seeing Katniss and Peeta on the train and, well, she doesn't really have anyone else.

"My brave girl." he mutters, wrapping his daughter in his arms. "My poor, brave girl. I'm sorry. This is all my fault, I'm so sorry."

Madge hadn't cried up until this point. Stifling her own sobs seems futile. So she cries into the front of his shirt until the Peacekeepers drag him away.

The door opens, and Hazelle Hawthorne steps inside. Her soft grey eyes are slightly watery, undoubtedly from having just seen her son.

"Oh, Madge." she murmurs in a comforting, melancholy voice. She takes Madge's hand. "I'm so sorry this is happening to you."

Madge tries to find it within herself to say something, but she can't. She doesn't pull her hand away, though. Hazelle's hands are warm and consoling. A mother's touch.

"I never did get the chance to thank you. That night, in the winter. When you…when you gave us the medicine for Gale." Hazelle swallows, and smiles kind-heartedly. "I hope you know I didn't forget that. Won't ever forget that. You're a brave girl Madge. You promise me you'll take care of yourself."

Madge nods her head slowly. Hazelle is gone as quickly as she came, leaving Madge to try and make sense of her words.

"Gale!" Posy hurtles inside, attacking him with her chubby arms. He swallows the lump in his throat, wishing he hadn't seen the tear tracks on his sister's face. Nine-year-old Vick is next, muttering incoherent words that Gale understands and doesn't understand at the same time.

He knows how excruciating it is to watch someone you love in the Games. He wishes they didn't have to go through this. Again.

His mother's hand is on the side of his face, and he leans into her tight embrace. Gale buries himself into her shoulder, leaning over to bring himself down to her height. "This wasn't supposed to happen, Mom." he chokes out, finding each breath more and more difficult by the second.

"I know." Hazelle says softly. "I know. But I need you to be strong, okay? I know you can. For them, and for me."

Gale nods slowly, and letting go of her is possibly one of the most difficult things he's done in his life.

Rory approaches him, and Gale rests his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, you listen to me now. You're the man of the house while I- while I'm away." Gale swallows, and looks his brother in the eye. "You take care of them. You remember what I taught you, okay?" he says firmly.

Rory nods comprehensively, and pulls his brother into a hug. "Just come home." he mutters under his breath.

Gale doesn't want to make any promises he can't keep.

As the Peacekeepers wrench the door open, signalling their time is up, Gale wonders what their parting words will be.

"Gale!" his mother says urgently. "I need you to look out for Madge for me. Promise me that."

He blinks, taken aback. "What?" The disbelief must be evident on his face.

"Just do it, Gale. I love you. We love you." His family's chorus of voices disappears all too suddenly as the door is slammed shut.

TBC