Summary: Las leyendas vivas en Panem no nacen, se forjan. Son moldeados bajo los terribles horrores en las Arenas de los juegos del hambre. Mancharse las manos de sangre nunca es fácil, pero lo es aún menos cuando sólo eres un joven de 14 años. Peeta Mellark se convierte en tributo cuando la papeleta con su nombre es sacada durante la cosecha de los septuagésimos segundos juegos del hambre. AU
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Where can I find Outside Chance/the series, to read?
Here’s a link to the series. You’ll find all three stories there.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
There’s also a bunch of random pieces like alternate POV’s, future takes, etc that I’ve written and posted on tumblr. Eventually, these will make it onto ao3 as well but for now, here are most of them. They won't make much sense until you've read the majority of the main story bodies. Also... Make sure to read my notes first so you don’t read anything you don’t really wanna read.
[A] [B + Bonus Artwork!] [C] [D] [E]
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]
And Artwork! [1] [2] [3] [4]
Last but not least, an incomplete, still in progress Playlist
One thing that struck me when I started dlb was the care that is taking to putting focus on female characters' internality in a way that is so rare in fandoms like star wars. So often I see writers try to compensate for a series' misogyny by portraying women as flawless BAMFs while still not really putting any effort to make them feel like real people with interiority and complexity. In particular it really stood out to me how Shmi is written in relation to themes of motherhood, how she is not the perfect blank slate angelic mother figure but someone who has been through deep trauma that informs her relationships with herself and her children, and the things that motherhood means to her. You're a wonderful character writer and I'm so excited to see more of this fic.
Inviting me to talk about the portrayal of women in Star Wars is very risky business. I'll skip most of my thoughts and head straight to: the women were the whole point of this series.
The plot for Don't Look Back was thrown together one night while I was talking at my friend while she was cooking dinner, as I ranted about how (in the fics that I'd encountered) there were basically no stories that centered politics, and when they did, they did not center the female characters who were actually politicians in the story. This was infuriating to me because--especially in the time travel fix-it genre--it made no sense to me that no one really wanted to address the complexity of saving the Republic as a failing government entity. I don't really have much if any love for the sequel trilogy, but the fact that it basically said "And 30 years later defeating the Sith did not save the government from descending right back into authoritarianism," was the most horrifyingly on point, accurate direction they could have taken things. Minus, you know, whose fault that was. I ranted for probably a solid hour and a half about what I would do to rewrite Padmé Amidala back into being an actual politician, because she needed to be way more politically and diplomatically savvy if the Republic was going to be saved. The Jedi, even if the Order was completely changed, were in no position to do it. And, most importantly for all the characters and organizations, no one could do anything alone.
Sitting on the couch and weaving that narrative into Leia's story of grief and recovery, I was so excited to tell a nice little tale about the importance of community and cooperation. My ideas about good and evil in the Star Wars universe, about power and the Force, all revolved around these two things. No individual's power was a substitute for them. The very nature of the Sith was to eliminate connections, to cut people off from help. And Palpatine was a master at luring people to the edge and making sure there was no one there to catch them once they realized they were tipping over.
Sure, this was a little ambitious. But I felt confident I could write a decent, moderate length fic on the subject. The narrative threads were right there. How could I not write this story? And what better place to start than preventing Shmi Skywalker from being cut from the narrative? Someone who knew, down to her bones, how important helping others was, and how it had to be done in a community, because it was so easy to make an individual powerless.
Anyway, the whole thing obviously grew way out of control and five years and (oh dear mercy) 750k words later we're still not done yet. But yes. We are here for the ladies. We are here for Shmi's buried anger and Leia's escalating grief and Padmé's long held resentment and Ahsoka's courage and enthusiasm and Satine's compassion driven hypocrisy and Shea's detached ethics and Jamillia's kind and decisive political maneuvering and Jobal's fears for her too-brave daughter and Bo-Katan's reckless determination and Adi Gallia's overwhelming and conflicting duties to the Force and to the Order and all the handmaidens trying to maintain their sense of self while recklessly offering themselves up as sacrifices for Padmé and Naboo.
We're here for the other characters too. But yeah. There's a reason this series was named after a line from Shmi.
last year i reread thg for the first time in like a decade, and i honestly appreciated them even more rereading as an adult. it gave me brain worms so i read them again this year and here we are
If the muse should so cooperate- I would love to see the reaction at Skadi after Katniss made her reservation to go for a visit. Did Gramps know right off it was her? Did Haymitch give the heads up? Did Gramps know and wait to tell Peeta? How did that conversation unfold? POV doesn’t matter to me.
Soooooo this has been sitting in my inbox for literal years. Sorry about that. And while I am still focusing on Spellbound for now, it doesn't hurt to exercise the Outside Chance muscles every so often to keep that universe fresh in my mind. Especially since the Outside Chance universe is up next on the To Do list once I finish Spellbound.
Some fun, from a different POV than what I usually give you all. It worked a little better coming from Monique, since she works the front desk at Skadi and would have a front row seat to the entire thing unfolding. The only thing it doesn't directly answer is whether or not Haymitch gave Eirik a heads up (he did), but it is implied here. Hope you enjoy! And now back to work on Spellbound.
~~
I need a break. It’s been insane since I sat down at the desk. And I use the phrase “sat down at” in a metaphorical sense. I’ve been standing the whole time. Moving between the front desk and the office behind the desk where we store all our random shit we need throughout the day to take care of our guests. We’re just on the downslope of the season, and a quick glance at our weather forecasts has me smiling at the guest I’m helping and answering their question.
“Weather service is predicting another eight inches at least from this storm that’s moving through in two or three days,” I tell him and he taps his Epic Pass on the desk with a wide grin.
“Awesome. Might trap me here for a few more days. Any chance I can go ahead and extend my room?”
“Mmm, that might be difficult. We’re pretty well booked for the rest of this week and next week, too. But I can check for you. Stop by after you’re done skiing and ask me then?” I suggest.
He nods and walks off. I can feel my customer service smile slipping, but a genuine one takes its place as my boss steps up to the counter, leaning heavily on it, taking his weight off his cane as he gives me a bright smile in return.
“Hey Mr. Tjalaand, how’s it going?” I ask in a sing-songy voice and he chuckles.
“Not bad, Monique. Any word on our high profile guest?”
“Uh-uh. Haven’t seen her name on any of the guest lists, and I’ve been checking every chance I get,” I tell him. Just to be sure, I type in the names again, in two separate searches, just to be safe.
Katniss -- nope.
Everdeen -- nada.
“She’s not here. If she’s coming tomorrow, she’s gonna have a hard time finding a room,” I say and Mr. Tjalaand mutters under his breath, but then his eyes light up.
“Perhaps she has registered under a fake name,” he says, and I nod.
“It’s possible, but she could’ve used anything.”
“You can search guests based on their address, yes?”
“Sure,” I say brightly. “Where’s Ms. High Profile coming from?”
“Colorado Springs,” he says, which gives me a moment’s pause. We don’t get many guests from C. Springs. They’ve got their own skiing all around them in Colorado. Only the die-hard skiers from C. Springs or the ones who want slightly wilder slopes come here. Still, I type it in my search and come back with two hits.
“I’ve got a Mike Norbert and a Kay Brookes from Colorado Springs checking in tomorrow.”
“Kay… clever girl,” he murmurs. I smile over his shoulder as his grandson, who I like to think of as my other boss, even if he doesn’t officially have the title yet, approaches. We all know it’s coming one day. But Mr. Tjalaand hasn’t seen Peeta yet and continues talking to himself. “Using their names. As if we wouldn’t notice.”
“What wouldn’t we notice?” Peeta asks and Mr. Tjalaand jumps, cries out, clearly startled.
“What?” he asks Peeta once he’s gotten ahold of himself.
“We’ve got a guest coming tomorrow, using a fake name so we don’t know it’s them. Some big name athlete,” I whisper conspiratorially. Peeta smiles slightly and turns to his grandfather.
“Seriously? Ryen’s dumb enough to try a fake name?”
“Er… not Ryen,” Mr. Tjalaand says, then does that thing they always do. He switches to Norwegian, so that no one else can understand what they’re saying. Joke’s on them. I’ve been learning Norwegian. Not enough to be fluent, or proficient. Or to even catch full sentences with the rapid pace Mr. Tjalaand is speaking, but I can read Peeta’s face.
And he’s. Not. Happy.
Mr. Tjalaand actually shrinks away from him a little bit as he gestures wildly and continues to explain to Peeta. I catch something about training and home and upset. Maybe a name I file away. Haymitch. The word tomorrow.
Peeta starts shaking his head. And although he’s whispering, there’s no disguising the hurt and anger in his voice when he cuts his grandfather off and asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?” At least I think that’s what he says. Mr. Tjalaand fires back. It’s settled blah blah blah blah I suggest blah blah blah something about one of our trails.
When it’s over, Eirik looks smug and Peeta walks off before I can even ask if he’s okay. What a dumb question. Of course he’s not okay. It’s written all over his face and his body language that he’s not okay. But why’s this guest set him off so much?
Mr. Tjalaand sighs as he turns back to me and gives me a small smile. “I apologize for my grandson.”
“Is he gonna be okay?” I ask and Eirik waves off the concern.
“He will need to be. I will not tolerate his moping about this any longer.”
I don’t wanna say it, but I kinda agree with my boss. Much as I love working for them both, much as I consider Peeta a good friend, he can be moody and mopey sometimes. Not that he doesn’t have reason and all, but sometimes I just wanna slap him for his dumb decisions.
“You will tell me the moment our guest checks in tomorrow?”
“If I’m on shift, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Good,” he says with a firm nod. “Thank you, Monique.”
“Sure thing, boss,” I say and give him a playful salute as he walks off. I wait until he’s out of sight before I turn to my coworker. “You got this, Haydn?”
“Yeah. Seems to have calmed down for a moment.”
“I’m going to Rooba’s. You want me to get anything for you?”
“Red Bull and one of those caesar chicken wraps.”
“You got it,” I tell her as I slip out from behind the desk and basically jog to Rooba’s Lobby Stop. I skid to a halt next to her and she smiles at me.
“Where’s the fire?”
“Okay. So. I need to know what kind of serious shit is about to go down in this place so I’m ready to handle it.”
“Uh-huh,” Rooba says but continues to stock her shelves, replenishing after the mid afternoon rush. “I’m listening.”
Of course she is. Rooba’s a gossip hound. “Two days ago, Eirik came to me and said we’d be having a high profile visitor arrive in three days, which is, you know… tomorrow. Some Olympic athlete I’d never heard of, but anyways. He says he wants to know the second she books her room.”
“Interesting,” Rooba prompts me to keep going.
“Well today, she still hadn’t shown up on the guest lists. So he asks me to search by where she’s coming from, and turns out she’s registered under a fake name, or at least he’s pretty sure she is. So he’s figuring this all out and Peeta walks up--”
“Uh-huh,” Rooba murmurs, her eyes bright as she hones in on what I know she can tell is the juicy part.
“-- and they start talking in Norwegian, as they do.”
“You catch any of it?”
“Some. Not enough. All I know is Peeta is not happy about this person coming here, but Eirik is tickled pink about it, so I need to know who this is and why she’s already causing problems in my lobby.”
Rooba snorts. “What’s the name, girl?”
“Right, sorry,” I say. “Katniss Everdeen?”
“Kat--” Rooba gasps and drops the pile of chips she was holding. “Oh shit.”
I glance down at the mess with her, then back up at her face. Her eyes and mouth are wide for an instant, but then her lip trembles and her eyes go a little glassy. “Katniss is coming home tomorrow?”
“Coming home?” I ask, but Rooba has moved on. She’s frantically scooping up the dropped chips and I kneel down to help her.
“So you know that name.”
“Oh my -- oh no wonder Peeta was so upset. My poor boy, finding out like that.”
And it’s those words that make it click in my mind as we stand up with the chips in our hands. “Don’t tell me she’s that girl. The one with him in all the pictures on The Wall that no one will talk about like she’s a curse?”
Rooba scowls at me and snatches the chips from my hand. “Katniss is not a curse. She’s… oh my poor girl must be hurting so bad if she’s coming home after all these years.”
I can feel my eyebrows raise at that. I watch Rooba stock the chips as I grab Haydn’s lunch, and something for myself.
“Coming home tomorrow. I don’t even have any Milk Duds or that strawberry lemonade thing she always drank, or her favorite tea,” she’s muttering as I approach the register. “Too late to have them here by tomorrow. I’ll just have to add them to the order for next week. If she’s even staying that long…”
I clear my throat while she rings me up. “I don’t think she wants a fuss being made over her,” I point out and Rooba glares at me. “I’m just saying, she registered under a fake name. Sounds like she doesn’t want to be noticed while she’s here.”
Rooba snorts. “Fat chance. That girl could bury herself under thirty feet of snow and she’d still be noticed.”
I don’t know what to make of that, but Rooba sighs and rings up my purchase, still grumbling.
“Our baby girl comes home after ten years and Eirik can’t even tell us? I can’t even welcome her home? What a crock of shit.” She holds out my sack as I swipe my card, but she pulls it back when I reach for my purchase. “What name did she use? The fake one.”
“Kay Brookes,” I tell her and she gasps again. “Okay you gotta explain why that’s significant. And why I shouldn’t skewer this girl on sight. We all know Peeta’s carrying all kinds of baggage over her. No one will talk about her.”
Rooba shuts her eyes and sighs.
“That name… it’s proof she’s still carrying just as much baggage as he is,” Rooba murmurs. I’m about fed up when she releases a heavy breath and gives me answers. “They fell off a cliff together, when they were fifteen. They were… they were best friends. Inseparable. Maybe more, I don’t know for sure, but there were rumors at the time about them kissing behind a maintenance shed one day.”
All right, sue me. I’m a sap. My heart twinges at the image of young, first love blossoming from a childhood friendship as Rooba talks. “They went for a hike and there was a rockslide. Katniss called 9-1-1. By the time anyone could get to them, it was too late to save Peeta’s leg, but Katniss had saved his life. And then… her parents… Sage Kay Everdeen. Lily Brookes Everdeen… they both died two days later. Hit by a drunk driver.”
“Damn,” I whisper and Rooba nods, handing me the sack of food at last.
“The custody battle afterwards, as far as I heard, wasn’t pretty. But it was fast. Either way, Katniss and her sister were gone before Peeta even got back from the hospital. Neither one of them’s been back in ten years.”
And while I still feel like I wanna skewer this Katniss for hurting Peeta, Rooba’s words have me feeling at least a little sorry for her, this strange girl who once called Skadi home. Losing her parents after such a traumatic event with her best friend, then being torn away from her home.
“You’ll text me tomorrow, when she checks in?” Rooba asks, pulling us out of the reverie of the past and I nod.
“Sure. Anyone else I should give a head’s up about this? So they’re not shocked and can keep it quiet when they see her roaming around?”
Rooba nods. “Thom. He needs to know. Freddy on ski patrol. June Carter…” Rooba starts listing names almost faster than I can add them into a new text thread on my phone. They're almost all people we affectionately refer to as The Old Guard, because they've been at Skadi for ages.
“Anyone else?” I ask when she pauses. She shakes her head. “That’s all I can think of for now.”
I type out a message, telling them who’s arriving tomorrow and that we’re to keep it low key, since she’s using a fake name and clearly doesn’t want a fuss, but I thought they might wanna know so they don’t get a shock seeing her around. I add Rooba to the thread and send it, releasing a breath and telling Rooba I’ll talk to her later.
My phone blows up on my way back to the front desk.
WTF?!?!? Katniss???
Are you for real?
Katniss is coming home???? 😄😮😭
!!!!!!!!
Does Peeta know?
How long’s it been?
Ten years
10 years
10 years
Shit
Does Peeta know?!??!?!
Someone’s gotta tell Peeta!
He knows.
Thank fuck.
Well this won’t be awkward at all.
It keeps going and I silence the thread, handing lunch to Haydn and getting back to work. I’ll check the gossip chain when my shift is over. One thing I do manage while I’m still at the desk is something I probably should’ve done days ago. A quick Google search for one Katniss Everdeen. There isn’t much, and all of it is sports related. Not even a social media footprint. But at least now I’ve got an idea of her face so I can be on the lookout for her tomorrow.
~~
It’s another crazy day and I stay past the end of my shift to help out. And also because the mysterious Katniss Everdeen still hasn’t shown, but given all that Peeta and Mr. Tjalaand have done for me, I feel like I somehow owe them both at least this. Taking care of this particular guest and giving them both warning of her arrival. My phone keeps vibrating with the group text thread, everyone checking in periodically to see if anyone’s spotted her yet. I snort as I glance at the top, where someone changed the thread name to Operation Hummingbird. When I asked about that, all I got back was:
It’s her nickname.
I’m running on coffee and stress, and about ready to call it a day when someone steps up to the desk, the hood of her ski jacket pulled up over her head. She leans over the desk, like she’s trying not to be noticed and extends her arm with a credit card in her hand.
“Checking in, Kay Brookes,” she says and my pulse stutters for a moment. Her voice is low and smoky, and so unique. From under her hood, I catch a quick flash of light eyes before she drops her gaze to the desk.
And I understand what Rooba meant about her being noticed. I can’t look away from her. There’s something enigmatic about her, or maybe that’s just because I know something of her story and am thirsty for more of it.
But I didn’t get this vibe from her pictures online.
I manage my customer service smile, and go through the motions of checking her in, glancing over her shoulder at the pile of bags and skis in cases.
“I’ll have one of the bellhops help you to your cabin.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Oh please, do me this favor. James is new and needs all the training he can get,” I say. Her lips twitch at that, but she nods and looks up at me again. Gray eyes. And even though I’ve certainly championed Peeta getting with other people -- namely my friend, Peyton Lang, last season -- I can see why this is the girl he’s never really let go.
“Alright. I could probably use the help,” she says.
I hand her the envelope with room keys, wifi instructions, and lift pass, call James to the desk, and give her a wide smile.
“Welcome to Skadi, Miss Brookes. Enjoy your stay with us.” She hesitates and looks back at me a moment, then gathers her things with James and heads outside.
I release a breath and feel my shoulders sagging. There’s something just so sad hanging around her, that I think about what Rooba said yesterday. That Katniss is carrying as much baggage as Peeta. I’m starting to believe it.
With that in mind, I notify Mr. Tjalaand, and then I notify the Operation Hummingbird thread. From him, I get a simple Thank you. From them, I get a flurry of texts. Most of them are just thumbs up and thanks, but a few catch my attention.
Think she’ll actually talk to him?
Resort isn’t that big.
Nope. She knows this place too well. Knows where to hide.
We’re not seeing her again.
He knows the place better.
Come on, guys. Give them time.
Time? They’ve had ten years.👏👏👏
Part of me wants her to seek him out. Get it over with. Let them hash out whatever it is they’ve gotta deal with. Part of me thinks we haven’t had a good mountainside drama in awhile and this’ll probably be drawn out and spectacular.
I just want them to bang already!
Slow down. They haven’t seen each other in ten years.
Fine. I’ll settle for a kiss.
Seriously? They might not even like each other anymore.
Anyone got eyes on him?
He’s up on the slopes.
Monique, can you let him know?
Or should one of us?
I’ll let him know.
I sigh and open up my text thread with Peeta. It’s been a few days since we’ve used it and the last thing on it is a laughing emoji he sent me in response to something funny I shared about a guest. I hesitate, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he might already be. But then I think of his face yesterday, his anger that his grandfather didn’t even tell him that such a significant part of his past would be walking back into Skadi. If it were me, I'd want to know. I think about the pictures on The Wall, the ones I walked by last night, just to see a glimpse of what he lost ten years ago.
They were adorable together.
I think of the way Rooba talked about them yesterday when I first told her. How the group talked about them in the thread all day yesterday. And I am again reminded of what a sap I am.
“Screw it,” I mutter and tap out a text to Peeta. I’m with June on this one. “I want them to bang.”
Lord knows he needs it. She probably does too, based on the looks of things.
Hey, boss. Just wanted you to know that the guest your grandfather was asking me about yesterday has checked in. Cabin 24.
Thanks for the warning, Mo
I pause and grin, deciding a little pot stirring wouldn’t hurt.
She’s stunning, by the way.
And you could stand to get laid.
Been awhile, hasn’t it?
I could say the same to you. Maybe you should sleep with her.
Not my type. You know I like a himbo.
Noted.
But you….
Has it been since Peyton?
Maybe since Thresh?
You’re as bad as Rooba.
What did Rooba say?
Nothing. She put a package of condoms I didn’t ask for in the bag with my lunch today.
😝😂
Not funny.
Only it’s totally funny, and maybe exactly what he needs. I let Rooba know to keep it up.
