#sorry gale don’t know what you did but i’m already team peeta here sorry

[catastrxblues]

peeta “i have a longtime crush on a girl i now have to kill in order to stay alive who has trust issues and thinks i have this elaborate scheme to make sure she lose and die ” mellark

[everlarkficexchange]

The Archer and The Wrestler.

Written by: @thegirlfromoverthepond

Prompt 90: The Olympic committee is selling sponsorships and heavily advertising the upcoming games. The most photogenic of each sport is asked to pose for pics and attend functions, film commercial together, do some interviews. What sports represented by Katniss, Peeta, others? Required to look cozy? Animosity behind those smiles? Competitiveness? Banter? Any secrets? Do they have a “breakfast club” ending? by @567inpanem

______ 

Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark meet in the office of Trinket Advertising, where they have to shoot pictures for sponsors.

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Thank you @567inpanem for the prompt ! I had fun writing it :) PLus I could place it in my country which is always a plus. I hope you won’t be disappointed … 

My deepest thanks to @sunsetsrmydreams for pre reading and betaing.

To @xerxia31 and @javistg thank you for hosting such a nice event … and So sorry for the delay !

__________________

  I should be practicing, she thought, instead of pacing the long, white, corridor of Trinket Advertising.

  Katniss still had a ton to do for the Games. Be sure to be fit, to be healthy, to be accurate. To shoot straight.

  She really didn’t want to spend her afternoon waiting for some photographer to ask her to act natural in front of a camera. But she was just glad she didn’t have to shoot with someone from the team, as she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to focus with the constant bickering between Johana and Gale or how Haymitch, their trainer, would “Sweetheart” this or that. 

  Still no clue as to why she had been picked to be the representative of her sport for the sponsors and advertising. She wasn’t really sure she knew what it entailed, how much time she would spend parading around the media instead of practicing. She knew archery wasn’t such a popular sport in the States, preventing her from spending huge amounts of time in talk shows, or interviews. 

Plus, seeing the recognition made Prim, her sister, so proud and happy, Katniss hadn’t been able to turn down the offer when it came. 

  “Kathy Everdeen? You’re up next.” The assistant’s piercing voice echoed in the long corridor. Katniss closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to not correct the woman.

  “Welcome to the Strange Name That Can’t Be Taken Seriously Club.” Another voice, male this time, made her open her eyes. 

In front of her was a man of around her age, wearing the male version of the US Olympics shirt she had on..

  Only his was stretched across his broad frame, where she was glad hers was loose around her lean body. 

  He extended his hand.

  “Peeta Mellark. Wrestling. Founding member of the club.” She stared at his hand, before moving a step forward to shake it. “You’re the archer ? Katniss right?”

  She stopped mid-movement. How could he know her name ?

  “I saw your name on the list, so I figured you’d be next ?” He said, almost shyly, as if he had offended her, or invaded her privacy.

  She saw the movement of his hand, that she had left unshaken, going to his hair, his fingers raking through his mane of curls.

  He had done nothing wrong, she realized, just tried to clear the air. She took a breath, before extending her own hand in front of her.

  “Yeah, I’m Katniss. Archery. How much is the subscription to the club?”

  He laughed, before shaking her hand.

  “How about tea after you’re done ?”

  “Too bad I only drink coffee … but I guess if you can wait a bit, that’s doable.” Katniss almost smiled when Peeta started to laugh.

  “Oh my goodness, I have a genius idea !” A voice froze their handshaking. “We are going to do pair shootings! Mix the sports together, along with the portraits. It’s going to be legendary !”   

  A woman with very pink hair matching her very pink outfit stood in the entrance leading towards the studio. As soon as she stopped talking, a flock of what Katniss could only think were assistants came in view, all clapping their hands or praising the Pink Lady.

  “Effie, this is another grand idea! We should start right now with these two!” The woman that had misspelled Katniss’ name said, “as they are both here.”

  “What are you waiting for, Octavia, take her to make-up right now! I need to call Plutarch, I am having a ton of ideas ! Hush hush, now come on, quickly!” 

  Katniss saw the assistants moving as one, starting to circle her and Peeta, moving them forward inside the studio, where a couple were checking their cameras and the large umbrellas reflecting the lights.

  “Cinna, Portia, I had an epiphany!” The Pink Lady walked towards the couple as quickly as her pencil dress and very high heels allowed her, while Katniss was ushered to the make-up table. She noticed that Peeta was following right behind her, with the other half of the assistants. She met his gaze, saw him shrug before he was taken to another table, shielded from her view by the different makeup and hair artists around them.

  “We’ll start with you, Kathy!” Octavia said a few minutes later. Katniss took another deep breath, calming her temper. In just a few minutes, she’ll be gone. Archery wasn’t high on the list of sponsors, nobody cared about them, but for the bow and arrows brands. 

  Katniss didn’t have time to muse as the sound of Octavia’s heels on the tiling started again. She rose from the chair, following the young woman towards a dressing cabin.

  “You’ll find your uniform inside. You’re a S, right?”

  “How do you know?” Katniss asked, surprised that the woman guessed correctly.

  “I have an eye for that. Plus, it’s written on your card.”

  She repressed another eyeroll, trying to keep in mind that Octavia was only doing her job, before she entered the dressing cabin. 

White pants, blue polo lined with red, and a white undershirt to protect her arms. The standard equipment.

  Yet, it was something to see it, to realize she would represent her country in the most important tournament there could be, that she had achieved one of her goals. To be an Olympian.

  She took the polo, turning it slowly, almost afraid to read what was on the back.

  Everdeen.

  Her father’s name, embroidered in the cotton of the shirt.

Pride rushed through her veins as her fingers traced the letters.

  “I did it, Papa. I’m going to the Olympics.”

  ______________________

  It was now official. She hated photoshoots. First, because it was taking an awful lot of time, then because you had to smile. All.the.time. That Katniss hasn’t screamed yet or ran off the door was entirely due to her willpower gained from years of training.

  The photographer, Cinna, wasn’t a talker. He was taking his time to snap picture after picture, never acknowledging Octavia or Effie’s advice for her to smile this way, or that way. Because there was apparently a way to smile properly.

  She could feel her anger rise with each passing minute, the incessant chatter of the women, the silence of the photographer, the heat from the spotlights, the wind from the huge fans, the itching from the label of the polo on her neck… 

  “I think it’s time to pair them up.” The photographer’s voice calmly said, silencing the two women.

From being Effie and Octavia, Peeta made his way towards the scene where Katniss was standing. 

  Before anyone could say a thing, Cinna turned to Effie and his assistant.

“Ladies, can you please check if we have athletes that can be paired tomorrow too? I’m sorry to ask in such short notice, but I think Effie’s idea is something we have to work on.. of course it will mean you change all the schedules..”

  “Oh, my, Cinna, but yes, of course! If you think so ? But will you be able to manage with these two?” Effie Trinket asked. Katniss could feel the sharpness of her gaze as the older woman looked at her.

  “If there is the slightest problem, I’ll make sure Portia comes to get you.” 

  “Yes, please. Because if we can manage to pair Brutus and Enobaria, we might be on something, right?”

  “Right.” Cinna nodded, before moving towards his material, his back to Katniss as he rummaged through his material.

  She looked at her partner in the photoshoot, who seemed as lost as she was. He kept running his hand in his mane of blond hair, before shoving them in his pockets. Seconds after, he was doing the same movements again. She realized she was doing the same, undoing the end of her braid before redoing it, over and over again.

She really couldn’t wait to be out of the studio.

  “Will you two stand back to back, please?” Cinna’s voice startled her, even though it was barely over a whisper. “Portia, can you please close the door?” 

  That’s when she realized how silent the place was without Effie and Octavia. Without their neverending chatter, their disapproving tongue clicks, or their exaggerated sighs.

It almost felt … good.

  Almost.

  She started to move then, turning her back to Peeta, before crossing her eyes, hoping he would take the hint to do the same. The sooner they were done, the better. She had her bow waiting for her, after all.

  She felt the fabric of Peeta’s polo on her arm, yet, never his weight on her back.

  She looked at Cinna, who nodded approvingly, before starting to take pictures. 

  “Should we smile?” She heard Peeta’s deep voice right behind her, asking the question she didn’t dare ask.

  “Do what you want, don’t mind me.” the photographer answered behind his material.

  “What we want?” Katniss echoed, unsure she had heard correctly. The previous hour had been filled with recommendations on what to do, on poses to take, on how to smile … 

  Cinna lowered his camera.

  “I’m not Effie. Beauty is everywhere, it doesn’t have to be faked by poses or false smiles. Just do what you two want.” He shrugged before checking something on his camera. “I’ll need a few minutes to fix this, try to relax.”

  Katniss turned to her partner in shooting, to realize he had already moved and was facing her.

  “You told me you were a coffee girl, right?”

  “Yup. Black, no sugar.”

  “I don’t take sugar in my tea, either. See we have something in common.” Peeta put his hands high. “Oh, no high five ? We’re not close enough yet.”

  “Definitely not, singlet boy.”

  “Ouch, that hurts. Know, Miss Everdeen, that a lot of women find that uniform .. appealing.” He raised his eyebrows, wiggling them explicitly. 

  “I bet they do. The main question is, do you have to shave your torso, so your opponent won’t have the opportunity to pull at your chest hair ?”

  Katniss didn’t know what came to her to ask such a question.  It was like Peeta made it easy for her to talk, when she usually wasn’t famous for speaking or making her voice heard without shouting.

  It was like he had a calm, soothing temper, like a lazy river, ready to cover the fire that was in her.

Maybe they made a good pair.

  “Yeah, the worst is the wax under the armpit.” He deadpanned, not even letting a smile on his face.

  She could totally imagine him taken down to “Beauty Base Zero” as the woman at the beauty parlor had told her the only time she went there. It included all sorts of treatments, each worse than the others. She even told her sister to not gift her with that kind of torture anymore.

  “Ouch.. I hope your girlfriend covers you in aloe after that …” 

Katniss knew she wasn’t the most girly woman around, yet she sometimes put on mascara or had her legs waxed from time to time, mostly for competitions when she had decided to wear the short-skirts or the long bermudas. 

  “Well, meet Hanna, my girlfriend.” Peeta said casually, showing his right hand, wiggling his eyebrows - again.      

  It took Katniss a few seconds to catch up on the double-entendre.

  “Oh, my, you’re disgusting!” Her words couldn’t completely hide her smile. There was something to this man that somehow made her want to talk, to speak, to even trust him. 

  “I bunked with Finnick Odair at the Youth Olympic Games. That was disgusting! He shaves himself ! the room was full of his hair!”

  “Well, you could have collected them before putting them on Ebay. You’d be rich by now.”

  “I should have, yes. Dam, why didn’t I know you back then to give me good advice!”

  “I wasn’t at the YOG.”

  “I know, I would have noticed you.”

She looked at him, with questions in her mind. His eyes were blue, so clear nothing was shadowing them, she was left without words.

  Click.

  —-

  Katniss couldn’t believe she was at the Olympics. In Paris, France. That her childhood dream of bringing a golden medal home was nothing but a few arrows away. A lot of stress, too. She raised her bow, lining the target with her eye, throwing  a quick glance to the small flags lining the area to check the wind, took a deep breath, before letting go of the arrow.

  She knew right away that it would miss the center of the target. A breath of hair on the right, still not enough to get full marks. She had underestimated the wind on this large, open area that the Esplanade des Invalides was.

  “Not too bad.”  She jumped at the voice behind her. Maybe some kind of volunteer that had been allowed inside the arenas for training. She needed to focus on the target, on the little golden area that would make her mark a ten in the competition.

  She took another arrow from the quiver on her left hip, slid it in the bow, looked at the wind, took a deep breath, lifted her weapon, aimed at the target. With the next exhalation of air, she let go of the arrow, knowing right away it would hit the center. 

  She had never been able to explain how she knew, each and every time how her arrow would behave. It was a feeling, a sensation, deep inside of her. 

  Thunk !  

  She looked at the target, saw that indeed the arrow was in the yellow area. She almost let a smile show on her mouth, when the same voice distrubed her again.

  “You might win if you shoot like that.”

  Katniss closed her eyes, letting a sigh escape before turning to face whoever decided to disturb her training. 

  “Peeta!” She felt a smile forming on her face. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “I was practising, then decided to go for a walk. It’s Paris after all!”

  “Here?” Katniss was pretty sure she hadn’t seen any other sport on the green grass in front of the Invalides.

  “Oh, not here here, over there!” Peeta turned, his right hand moving over his shoulder, showing the Eiffel Tower. “Wrestling is on the Champ de Mars, at the feet of the tower”

  “Really? You’ll have to tell me when you’re in the tournament. So I can come and see you.”

  Peeta’s hand went to his head, his fingers raking through his mane of golden curls.

“You’re sure ? If the press sees you there….”

  “I’ll tell them I came to support a friend.”

  “But you know how the paparazzi are …”

  “We’re in France, not the US, nobody cares about archery or wrestling - no offense intended.”

  “None taken.” 

  Peeta looked around, before coming closer to the barriers surrounding the archery arena, then leaning slightly on them, giving Katniss the opportunity to see the muscles in his forearms. She wondered briefly if he already had his waxing treatment.

  “Something on your mind, Everdeen?”   

  Who was he again? A mind-reader ?  She quickly turned her eyes  from his arms, not lingering on the broad expense of his chest, or how bright his eyes were.

  “Yup. I have to finish training if I don’t want to look too ridiculous when the competition starts.”

“What do you say we try one of these cafés when you’re done?” he casually asked. Katniss could see something in his eyes - was it hope ?

  Damn, was he playing unfair by throwing coffee into the mix. As if she was known to refuse a cup. 

  “I still have a few minutes of practice, maybe a raincheck?”

  He shrugged, before looking around. “I’m in no rush. I can wait. Patience is a virtue, young grasshopper.”

  She nodded, before taking another arrow out of her quirrel. 

   “Yes, Sensei.”

  The arrow hit the center of the target.

  ———————–

  Katniss knew she shouldn’t be there. Not that she didn’t want to, but after  pictures of her and Peeta laughing in a small café had hit the stands, her phone hadn’t stopped beeping, demanding a confirmation if there was something going on between the two of them. That, perhaps, all the rumors that had been born after the photoshoot with Cinna, were not rumors at all.

  Effie Trinket was, of course, delighted. Jo wouldn’t stop asking about LoverBoy, Gale was threatening to beat the shit out of Peeta (Katniss was almost ready to let him try to do that), and Haymitch kept on asking her if her little romance would damage her results in the field.

  Everything was peachy.

  Yet, she couldn’t find it in her to regret the time she had spent with Peeta. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, that she had been able to confide to someone as she had done with him, how he had been open to her too. Like two old friends rekindling a friendship after spending years apart. 

  Friends they could have been, they had realized when discussing their native places. They had grown up about a hundred miles apart, in the same district of West Virginia. They could have crossed paths about a dozen times, sharing memories of the Meadow Park, where they both had spent time, Katniss had even worked there when they were younger. 

  Sometime during their afternoon chat, a photographer had spotted them, recognized them, and snapped pictures.

  That was a trending subject on Twitter minutes later, before someone even created a ship name for them. The hashtag #Everlark trended for more than a day.

  Katniss had pushed her phone away, blocked all the numbers she didn’t know, called Peeta to apologize, before focusing solely on her training.

  Her perfect plan had crumbled in hours, when Peeta had caught her in the Victor’s Village Cafeteria, explaining how he was sorry for everything, as the idea of coffees had been his. 

They had ended up sharing a meal with Gale and Jo, as well as some of Peeta’s teammates, who kept joking about the Everlark hashtag. In a matter of two hours Katniss was laughing with them, the pain of Effie’s scheme forgotten.

  That was why she was currently in the corridors of the Arena where Judo and Wrestling competitions were being held. Her own tournament was starting in two days and Katniss would rather watch sports she didn’t understand, then stay in her room, anxiously waiting for her turn to compete.

  Maybe it was time for her to play team mate too. She had put on her US Team attire, gotten her accreditations cards, before jumping into one of the buses that led her to the Champ de Mars. 

  She hadn’t seen Peeta since breakfast the morning before, when she had forgotten to ask him if he was still okay for her to come.

  The building was elegantly sitting on the green grass. In the back, she could see the Eiffel Tower, all dressed up in her beauty and dignity.

  In a few minutes she had found the hall with the wrestlers, and a seat in the ranks reserved for athletes. She recognized Thom and Thresh, two of Peeta’s teammates, who waved at her. She talked to them for a few minutes, learning their categories were competing in the coming days.

  “Peeta should be in two matches.” Thresh informed her as she sat on the plastic seat. “He should make it to the quarters easily. After…”

  “After?” She asked, unsure what THresh meant.

  “After, in the quarters he should face Katø, the Russian. A beast. “

  “A beast?” 

  “Yeah, 164 pounds of malice and nastiness.”

  “Charming… Maybe someone will eat this Katø first ?” 

  Thresh shook his head.

  “Na, not with this draw. His first worthy opponent will be Peeta.”

  She looked at Thresh, thinking back to the afternoon she had spent with Peeta, remembering what he had told her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much, her cheeks still hurt. They had walked away from the Olympic Archery range, following the banks of the Seine, looking at the amazing monuments, walking by the Musee d’Orsay that Peeta had told her he wanted to visit. 

They had crossed the river on a wooden bridge only for pedestrians, walked along the Louvre, until they had found a small café near the Palais Royal where they were still sitting.

  “You all have bread names? Why? “

  Peeta shrugged,  before leaning down a little on the metallic table, as if he was about to confide his deepest secret.

  “We own a bakery, back in Panem. Maybe one day, I’ll tell you my real name …”

  She laughed, leaning over the table too. She felt bold enough to run her hand on his definitely toned forearm, letting her finger wander up to his shoulder.

  She saw the color of his eyes change from crystal blue to a darker shade, heard him take a breath in.

  But Katniss was on a mission.

  She leaned closer to him, her hand coming closer to his neck, her nimble fingers playing with the collar of his shirt.

  She could feel him tense under her touch, and lifted her eyes, to find his locked on her, as if he wanted to get lost in her. It took Katniss a few seconds to return to her task. With a movement of her wrist, she grabbed his accreditation cards, pulling them over his head before leaning back into her seat.

  “That’s disappointing, actually. Your name is Mark ? Mark Mellark ?”   

  “Because your name is really Katniss?”

  She put down his accreditations, took hers from around her neck, holding them out to him. He took them with a smirk before looking at the name written on them.

  “Your name is really Katniss?”

  “Yep. My mom’s Lily, my dad is Alon, and my sister is Primrose. You’re a bread family, we are a plant family.” She snatched the cards from his hands. “ You’re lucky you didn’t bet a thing, Mark Mellark.”

  “Don’t call me Mark.” He grumbled, leaning back onto his chair.

  “Well, then if you don’t want the world to call you Mark, you know what’s left to do, Mellark!”.

  She casually put down his cards on the table, taking her time to lean back too.

  “Oh? And that would be, Sensei ?”

  “Easy, Grasshopper. Make sure you don’t get a medal.”

  “That, Robin Hood, is not an option.”  

  The steadiness, the certainty of his voice made her shiver. Or maybe it was the wind, coming from large trees nearby. Surely the trees, she thought.

  “I mean,” he started “ we all came here for a reason, and it’s not to give someone else our place on the podium. Plus with all the visibility we have this year, we have to give it our best, right?”

  She nodded. That was what they had to do, what they had trained for, what they were in France for.

  “Katniss?” Thom’s voice took her out of her memories. 

  “Sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

  “Look down, on the mat. The guy in blue? It’s Katø.”

  “That’s a man? He looks like a mountain of muscles …” 

  “Well, he is a mountain of muscles … “ The referee interrupted Thom’s sentence with the start of the first period. “That won’t take long, he isn’t known for dancing around.”

  Katniss watched as the blond man, so different from Peeta rushed into his opponent, pinning him on the mat in a few seconds.

  “Told you. That lasted 25 seconds, he won’t be tired for the next round.” Thom said. “Peeta’s next.”

  Katniss nodded searching the ground until she spotted him, wearing a red singlet. 

  “Why is he wearing red ? Blue is a better color for him.” She asked, her eyes trained on the now familiar figure walking towards the mat. Damn, these singlets left little to the imagination. To say they were fit-forming was the understatement of the year. She could see all the lines of Peeta’s muscles moving as he approached the fighting zone.

  “Because he’ll be the first one called. It’s the rules.” She turned towards Thresh, who had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen him don.

  “Why are you smiling?” She was wondering what had been so funny in her words.

  “‘Blue is a better color for him’ - you sound like -” 

  “Be careful, Thresh. She shoots arrows…” Thom interrupted. “Now if you want to see Peeta wrestle, maybe you can look at the mat ?”

  With a last threatening glance towards Thresh that was met with another huge smile and air kisses, Katniss turned towards the arena, noticing how different Peeta’s posture was from Katø’s. 

  “He’s going to tire the Georgian who isn’t as flexible as he is. And as soon as there will be an opening, he’ll go for it.” Thom explained, as she watched the complicated dance of joint locks, takedowns, and other things she had no idea what they were.

  “This must be exhausting…” she whispered, as she saw Peeta finally going for the pin, immobilizing his opponent on the mat.

  “Well, it’s not crochet that’s for sure!” Thresh chimed into her thoughts as the crowd applauded the winner of the match.

  This was going to be a long day.

  __________________

  She needed to focus, now. Forget she was in the final of the Olympic Archery Tournament. Forget her dream was an arrow away. Forget she needed a nine to win the gold.

  She had to remember the wind, how it came lightly from the right to the left, how she needed to bend the trajectory just a little. She had to calm her beating heart.

  To forget Peeta was in the stands, watching. Katniss had cheered him on as he won his own gold medal two days ago, but now it was her moment.

  She needed to forget. 

  The way he had chased her when she tried to make a quiet exit.

To forget how they had kissed.

Their own celebration.

  She had to clear her mind of all this. 

Forget. Focus.

  A deep breath. 

Visualizing the arrow hitting the center of the target. 

  The chronometer was ticking. Tick. Tock.

  It was her last arrow. Her concurrents had already shot their own.

  She needed a nine.

  Only twelve seconds remain.

  She rose her bow.

Eleven seconds.

  Remembered her father’s proud look when she had won her first trophy.

  She let the arrow fly.

  She knew it would be a ten.

  She had won the gold.

  She fell to her knees, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes.

  “I did it, Papa, I won … I hope you’re proud..”

  The applause around her made her lift her head, then stand up, before she ran towards the stands, her bow still in hand, her eyes fixed on a figure that was coming down the stairs, towards her.

  She felt his arms around her as he hugged her over the bleachers, felt his hands going to her face as he looked into her eyes.

  “You remember to shoot straight, Grasshopper…” he whispered, for the two of them only.

  “Yes, Sensei”, she replied before kissing him.

  Click.

  FIN

[katnissmellarkkk]

Andddd here’s my chappy three thoughts 🥳🥳🥳

Hmmm Katniss saying that her mother has a dress made of velvet is actually really interesting because it shows that Mrs. Everdeen Lily-Rose really was well-er off before she married Katniss’ father Hunter.

Or did she get the velvet dress from Maysilee? Oh well, who knows.

Aww, Katniss’ nervous habit of touching soft things repeatedly to soothe herself 🤧🤧.

“Crying is not an option. There will be more cameras at the train station.” — someone tell that to Peeta 🤣🤣🤣.

Okay I gotta stop picking on Primmers, I know but like. How small is she that she sits on Katniss’ lap like a toddler but then in the following year is the same height as her? Doesn’t matter I know but still I wonder.

Okay so Mrs. E is the doctor for the people of the Seam? Idk I never thought about this but who does people like Peeta or Madge or Delly go to if they’re sick or hurt? Is there a still running apothecary shop that Katniss never mentions? Are her grandparents still running the family biz?

Also okay, I gotta stop having so many thoughts on all the lil details I know but like. Katniss says here she’s familiar with the herbs her mother doesn’t grow on her own so like a). Katniss is more of a healer than she leads on because no average person knows what kind of plant is medicinal and b). Her mother is just growing herbs and Katniss never mentions it again in the whole series? Or I just missed it.

Okay imma move on from this one singular paragraph but Gale and her made a pact a year ago that they’ll supply each other’s family with game if they were to be reaped... I’m feeling like their close friendship is probably only one year old then? Idk. Just my interpretation.

Honestly I love Katniss getting mad at her mom here.

She’s sixteen, for God’s sake, of course she’s angry at what her mother’s illness put her through.

Also I lowkey like that her mother got mad back because that lady in the movies had zero personality.

“Boys who are two to three times my size.” She sounds so little, omg 🥺🥺🥺.

“I don’t care if we’re rich, I just really want you to come home” 🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩 okay Primmers, you got me here.

“the Peacekeeper is at the door, signaling our time is up, and we're all hugging one another so hard it hurts and all I'm saying is ‘I love you. I love you both.’ And they're saying it back...” this is so sad leave me be 😫😫😫😫

Katniss is burying her face in a pillow to block out her emotions this is too much for me 🥵🥵🥵

Omg I forgot Peeta’s father visits Katniss 😅

Why does he visit Katniss?

She describes Peeta’s father as a “big, broad-shouldered man.” And then describes Peeta as stocky. Idk the comparison of the two descriptions has always led me to think Peeta is gonna be a big dude when he grows up like his father. This made no sense and had zero correlation but I thought, so I said it, no regrets

Oh he brought her cookies 🤧

WAIT WAIT WAIT. I just had a new thought, y’all. What if instead of the baker bringing cookies being a thing he does for all tributes, what if he’s bringing the cookies because Peeta asked him to, because he made them and wants to give them to Katniss and knows she’ll never accept / trust them coming from her competition? What if that’s the real reason the baker visited her in the first place? Because Peeta asked him to? This was such a shipper comment but idc, no regrets, remember?

Omg Peeta’s father is just mute 🤣🤣🤣

Between an abusive, angry mother and a mute for a father, the Mellark brothers must have had a fairytale of a childhood 😅😅😅😅.

But seriously #PoorPeetaMyBaby

Aww Peeta’s father is gonna help keep Prim alive 😭

Omg I just remembered he’s her mother’s ex boyfriend. Haidon Mellark, as I named him in my fics.

That one fic where he was thought to be Prim’s real father is just playing now in my head, rent free.

But does Katniss not realize that he may be offering to help Prim as a favor to her? Like she claims Prim is just so wonderful people adore her but there’s like zero evidence in the text that make her endearing? Okay I need to turn this bus around, I need to find a love for Primmy Deen.

Madge is not one for preamble apparently. No “hi, how are you? I’m sorry you’re gonna die? What will your last meal be?” Just right to “here, wear this family heirloom of mine, k thanks.”

I like that Madge had to kiss her cheek for Katniss to realize they were friends 😅😅😅.

I remember always loving her and Gale’s hug here. I’ve always felt like it was platonic, but especially when I first read the books and had zero preference one way or another for Gale or Peeta, I really liked how she said even with nothing romantic between them, “when he opens his arms, I don’t hesitate to go to him” or something I’m paraphrasing ok I’m lazy

Also though, this is the first time they’ve ever hugged? Idk why that surprises me? It shouldn’t because where is a hug gonna fit into a hunting trip 😅🤣😂 “I just caught a deer!” “let’s celebrate with a hug!”

I like that Katniss remembers how her father even failed to make a good bow sometimes. Random, I know.

I like that the Capitol weren’t entertained by the people freezing to deaths because it wasn’t bloody enough 🤭🙃

“How different can it be [to kill a human vs an animal]?” She’s about to find out, Gale 🥺. And when she comes back you won’t understand 🙄����

What did Gale want to say before the Peacekeepers dragged him away?

I used to think it was a confession of love but I’m actually sure it wasn’t now? Just the wording “remember I-“ doesn’t sound like it, considering he never confessed anything prior to her coming home.

I’m assuming now he was just gonna give her some more advice to stay alive 🤷🏼‍♀️. Clearly if it were relevant it would have made its way to the others books.

Aww, she’s never been inside a car before 😭😭. I didn’t even know they had cars in this universe but okay.

I notice though how she says “In the Seam, we travel on foot.” So is Peeta just riding his trolly down the street every day with the other merchants then? 🤣

Peeta just openly crying on camera 😅😢.

I like how Katniss is like “ooo is this an act to get sponsors?” when in reality Peeta’s like “no, I’m just a soft and genuine boy ™️”

Omg I just realized this totally goes along with Peeta’s thing later on “I want to die as myself”

He’s refusing to hold back his emotions because he thinks he’s doomed to die and he’s already refusing to pretend to be or feel something ingenious.

But a Johanna mention in book 1 chapter 3 woohoo 🥳🥳🥳 also Katniss comparing Jo and Peeta is kind of like foreshadowing of their shared torture in book 3.

Omg she just called Peeta broad-shouldered and strong. 🥰🥰🥰 my headcanon for his post-canon body is confirmed

Also why does Katniss keep allotting his strength to carrying bread trays around? Are they heavy? Why have I never once heard of people who carry bread trays being strong? I always thought Peeta was really strong because he learned to fight in order to defend himself against his mother but that’s probably wrong.

But if a mother is abusive, it can lead to one of the kids being physically violent as well and we know Peeta isn’t but he has two older brothers I’m gonna cut myself off now but I think we all smelled what I just stepped in.

Also I just find it so fascinating now how she regards herself vs Peeta here.

When talking about herself, she says, “The competition will be far beyond my abilities. [...] Oh, there'll be people like me, too. People to weed out before the real fun begins.” But when she talks about Peeta, she immediately says, “It would take an awful lot of weeping to convince anyone to overlook him.”

It’s just funny how she discounted herself right from the start but thought he was a real contender and then come to find out, Peeta believes it’s the exact opposite 😂🙃. They’re both so stupid I can’t even take it.

Wait did they actually give the location of the Capitol and the location of District Twelve in today’s world? And I just overlooked it? Brb I’m gonna go to google maps right quick.

Okay so basically what I gathered is the Capitol is probably in New Mexico and District Twelve is somewhere between Kentucky and Alabama. Irrelevant I know. But just a reminder now to everyone that Katniss and Peeta are literally speaking, crying and screaming in thick, backwoods southern accents.

It’s literally so sad how everything for Katniss is about food. Like every motive she has, every action she does is about preventing starvation ever again. 🤧🤧🤧

First mockingjay mention 🤭🤭.

“My father was particularly fond of mockingjays” 😭😭😭 I bet he was 😭😭😭😭

We always go on and on about how Katniss is a mockingjay or her children are mockingjays but Katniss herself here says mockingjays represent her father imma cry, y’all 😫😫😫😫

“It’s like having a piece of my father with me, protecting me” shut up shut up shut up shut up

Awww, Katniss has never had food like this before 😔😔😔

Neither has Peeta 🤧🤧

Katniss disliking the way Effie put the two kids from the year before down and so began to eat like a pig just to prove her point, is so her. And the beginning of her fighting for the underdog.

Omg the Rue introduction 🥺🥺🥺

Bahahahaha the commenters calling District Twelve backwards but charming 😅😅😅 they really are the hillbilly district

Peeta’s unexpected laugh 🥺🥺🥺 I love you, baby

“He was drunk. He’s drunk every year.” “Every day.” Katniss and Peeta are already finishing each other’s sentiments and teaming up to get on Effie’s nerves I love them so much 😍

Oh my God, Effie, you selfish jerk. They’re kids having fun for like one second, no need to throw in their faces they’re gonna die if the drunk won’t help them. I’d forgotten why I don’t really like the book version of her. I actually prefer her as comedic relief in the movies.

I actually just realized I really dislike Effie Trinket, I hope they never speak to her again Post-Mockingjay. Idc how you’re raised you don’t need to treat teenagers who are sentenced to a probable death badly just because they laughed at you 🙄🙄🙄😡😡😡😡. They didn’t even really laugh at her, she’s just annoying and awful, we don’t stan Effie in this household.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter three! Until next time, y’all ! If anyone actually read this long mess of a post.

[thegirlfromoverthepond]

Jingle Bells

Hello !

Here’s a little piece I wrote for @talesofpanem​‘s Everlark Holiday Bingo...

I think I tick D2 (thank you @xerxia31​) ... Plus, can you spot the sentence that was a challenge to put in the story ? (Evil grin)

Oh, and this fic is totally based on this K-mart ad. Just saying.

I want to thank @hutchhitched​ and @xerxia31​ for the organization. Might I had this story wouldn’t be there without @xerxia31​‘s stellar betaing skills. Enough talking .... 

JINGLE BELLS

“I can’t even believe they’re doing this. I mean… I can believe Finn is doing it, but Darius? Gale? PEETA? I mean, into what universe have we fallen?”

I chuckle at Madge’s words. Because I truly have no idea why my best friend, my friends and my secret boyfriend will be the next ones on stage, jingling bells to raise money for the food bank.

They could have picked anything. Last year, Peeta was Santa, taking pictures with the kids, and Annie and I were his devoted little helpers. That’s when I discovered there was much more to Peeta than met the eyes. He wasn’t only the perfect American poster boy, he had layers that I didn’t expect, and damn was he an awesome kisser. And lover. 

That’s also the year Gale finally decided to ask Madge out, the rest is now history. They are talking about moving together, seeing as she spends almost every night at his place, instead of in her bedroom in the apartment we share.

Which is totally okay by me, since Peeta can come over quite often too.

“Did I miss anything?” Annie, Finnick’s girlfriend has finally arrived. She works on the other side of Panem, and was afraid to be late for the show.

“Well, apart from Glimmer trying to prove she can sing, no.”

“Again?”

I nod at Annie’s words. We all know, well, the whole world knows Glimmer can’t sing to save her own life. She’s the only one totally oblivious to it. So, every single year, she graces us with the worst ever rendition of “All I want for Christmas”. 

“Did Jo perform?” Annie asks, taking her phone from her jeans pocket.

I laugh at her question.

“Effie forbade Jo to perform.”

“Why?”

I turn to look at Annie, startled she doesn’t know. Madge is the first to talk, barely hiding her smile.

“You weren’t there last year?” Madge asks. That’s when I remember Annie was sick with Covid for last year’s Christmas Charity Concert. “Let’s say Jo did quite an unbelievable number, finishing completely nude.”

“Oh my God, no wonder Effie didn’t want her back.” Annie laughs, before looking at her phone. “Why is Finn sending me a picture of boxer briefs?”

I look at Madge, who seems unaware of what’s happening with the boys. We both look at the picture Annie shows us, and indeed, it’s a pair of blue boxer briefs, with Christmas ornaments on it. A sleigh, Santa, tinsel, every Christmas cliché seems to be there.

“Seems like Finn wants to play Santa to Mrs Claus tonight” Madge replies, amused, as her own phone beeps too. She quickly looks at it, before turning her phone to us.

 On the screen there’s a pair of red boxers, also adorned with Christmas ornaments.

“Must be a joke of theirs,” I shrug, as I feel my own phone vibrate. Thank god I put it on silent. ”Or it’s a message for you to really go buy some Mrs Claus outfits!”

“Didn’t Gale tell you? He’s your cousin!” Madge looks at me as if I had a clue of what’s going on.

“You think I talk to Gale about his choice of boxer briefs? I have no idea what’s going on, Madge!”

“Sorry, I just thought they were pranking us or something.”

“Well, they must be pranking us,” I agree, as my phone vibrates again. I take it out of my pocket as Madge turns towards Annie, the both of them staring at the pictures they received minutes ago. I smile when I see Peeta has sent me two texts.

 Two pictures of a green pair of boxer briefs, adorned with christmas ornaments too.

What the hell are they doing? I ask myself, as I look at the pictures. 

“That’s the question, right? You got one too? Who sent it to you?” Madge can be a phenomenal investigator when she puts her mind to it. 

I am literally saved by the bell. A concert of bells.  When the curtain opens we see  five men, waving the bells they are holding in their hands, in a concert of ho-ho-hos. 

Of course Finnick is in the center, winking at Annie as soon as he sees her. Those two are so sweet it hurts my teeth. Gale and Peeta are at his side, adjusting their tux jackets while talking with their respective neighbours, Darius and Thresh.

Needless to say, five handsome men in tuxedos on a stage radiating confidence provokes quite an uproar from the crowd of women around me.

They start to whistle and shout as soon as Finnick starts paying attention to them.

“Are we ready, ladies?” Finnick says. That’s when I realize they all have mics. I sincerely hope they won’t sing because one thing is for sure: he’s my boyfriend and I might-kinda be in love with him, but Peeta can’t carry a tune.

The crowd echoes with shouts. I always wonder how he can turn women on like that. I mean, of course, he’s handsome, all lean muscles and bronze hair, green eyes shining, but he’s … too much for me. I do prefer my own stocky built man, with his luminous blue eyes and his mop of curly blonde hair. He’s so cute when he’s smiling.

“It’s starting!” Madge pulls me out of my thoughts of Peeta’s cuteness to bring me back to the view of my boyfriend in a tuxedo with bells in his hands.

Winking.At.Me.

The bastard.

We both agreed to go slow with this relationship as we both don’t have stellar history in that field. 

“Who is Peeta winking at?” Of course, Madge notices. Remember what I told you about her being a star investigator? 

“No clue.” I shrug, as I try not to falter under her staring eyes. She’s perceptive, and I think she guessed that something is going on.

I look back at the stage when I hear the bells jingling. 

It’s surprisingly short. They just bell “sleep in heavenly peace”, then put the bells down.

I am not alone wondering what’s going on when the table in front of the men moves away revealing … oh my …

The five men on the stage are wearing tuxedo jackets… but not pants. The five of them are adorned in boxer briefs of different shades, all Christmas-y themed. Red, blue, green, grey and yellow.

I guess that explains the pictures we received, right? I can’t help but look at Peeta’s legs, covered in blonde hair, muscular from years of wrestling and lifting heavy bags of flour at his parents’ bakery. I know exactly where the scar from his torn ACL is. Know exactly which place to touch to elicit moaning. 

I’m not willing to share him with the horde of women now shouting.

I’m about to walk up and show them he’s mine when the boys line up again. Finnick calls the room to attention.

“Ladies ,we would like to introduce you to a totally new, never seen before rendition of Jingle Bells.” He turns towards someone, nods once, and the lights dim. The boys stretch out their hands, before linking them behind their heads.

Peeta’s tuxedo jacket rises a little. I recognize the trail of hair on his stomach, the hair I play with when we lay together in bed.

I am so focused on his stomach that I would have missed their choreography if it hadn’t been centered on their hips.

It starts with Finnick, of course. He’s always the first when there are crazy things to do. He starts thrusting his groin along with the sound of the bells.

One after the other the guys start to jingle their bells on the stage. Along to the music.

“Can you believe this?” Madge asks as they take their bows, large grins on their faces. 

“Alas, I can, as I’ve seen it. I am very frightened for next year, they might call Johanna back,” I say, as I feel my phone vibrate again.

“I’m going to ask Gale for a private performance tonight!” 

“Oh, I’m definitely doing the same with Finnick!” Annie says, as she looks at the crowd of women surrounding the guys.

“TMI, TMI!” Why do they feel the need to share such private information with me ? “You’re not going in for a rescue?” I ask as I watch hints of red bloom on Madge’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I should. Won’t you go help Peeta?”

“Why would I go help Peeta?” I hastily reply. 

Madge shrugs. “Isn’t it what you two usually do? Protect each other?”

I sigh, before taking my phone out of my pocket and typing a quick message to Peeta.

“Here. Are you happy, Margaret?” 

She quickly reads the text and shows it to Annie, before giving me my phone back.

“Katniss, you’re going to need to improve your sexting skills. I doubt ‘ Do I need to send in the SWAT team?’ is considered flirting, you know?”

I take back my phone and send it before smiling at my friends.

“Who said I needed help? Your men, on the other end…” I point out the group of women still in front of the stage, and happily see my two friends walking towards their men.

My phone buzzes in my hand. I smile as I read Peeta’s text.

No need to. But be ready to jingle my bells tonight.

I already am.

_____________________________________

That’s it ! Let me know what you think and Merry 2020 Christmas! May the odds be in your favor !

[ellanainthetardis]

Hello hello! I know you mostly ship hayffie, but everlark is a recurring pairing in your fics aswell. Have you ever given your thoughts on the whole hijacking route that the author took with Peeta? I would also like your thoughts on if you think we were robbed of an everlark reunion and Peeta adding to the rebellion. For me personally, I think it was an unnecessary twist that was created for shock factor. Then again, that seemed to be the theme of MJ.

Hi! Honestly I need to do a re-read this year. It’s one of my goals for 2021 because I think between fanfics, hcs, the movies etc the actual canon details are not that clear. I started rereading after I read TBOSAS and abandoned it quickly because Katniss is not my favorite narrator. So bear in mind, I may be fuzzy on the actual details and opinions are, of course, subjective. 

I don’t really hide the fact I don’t like MJ (and not only because she forgot about Effie until halfway through). I think MJ is the books where we really see Collins struggle with the 1st person pov she chose in the beginning because it’s a huge story that is not exactly confined to Katniss specifically and, as a consequence, the story and the world building take a serious hit. Nothing is clear, the timeline doesn’t really make sense for such a war, it ends up being a succession of actions by Katniss that are drops in the ocean of the war... 

In you compare, on that front, TBOSAS was a better book because the third person pov allowed for more building, more information... In MJ, the story stops to be really about Katniss, it’s about Katniss and the rebellion, about Katniss and Panem... And it’s just too huge to work, all the more so when she’s an unreliable narrator in the first place. It’s one thing I liked about the 2 MJ movies, it actually did a good job at representing the scope of the war, at broadening it past Katniss herself... 

So that’s my basis to answer your question, haha. I already have problems with the form, now for the twists... I don’t really mind the highjacking storyline because I think it’s an interesting one. At the end of the book, they both have their own trauma to overcome, their own handicaps - Peeta ends up with the botched memories, the episodes and the missing leg, Katniss ends up deaf in one ear, with an addiction (under control but it will probably be a lifelong struggle) to morphling, abandonment (her mother, i cannot let that go sorry i know she’s popular in the everlark fandom but I can’t forgive her for not sticking with her) and they both have to deal with grief for their dead family members/friends. That adds a certain... symmetry? Otherwise it would be Peeta taking care of Katniss, living for Katniss, like it had been mostly in CF so I think the highjacking allows some sort of balance in their relationship because it’s also what Katniss needed in MJ to actually face her feelings and accept that she loves him (for real). That she needs him. That she, basically, wants him. She has a thick head, okay, it takes a while for her to catch up XD

If you take the highjacking away and you add Peeta to the rebellion from the start... I think you get a very different story (not necessarily a bad one and one I’m sure fanfic writers have explored a lot) but that does mean that the themes would be different. First and foremost that means the scam of the star-crossed lovers would have continued so Katniss would have never really been able to deal with her feelings/not feelings for Gale in a proper way because we would have been in the same situation as in CF where the act would have had to be maintained for the rebellion’s sake. That also takes out all the angst about half the victors captured in the Capitol because, to be honest, while we do love them through years of exposure and reading about them, I’m not sure how much - at first read - anyone would have really cared for Annie and Jo. It would be sad, yeah, but they sure wouldn’t have sent a team to rescue them. And Finnick would have had less page time because Peeta would have been there. 

What I think was for shock value, as you mentioned, is sending Peeta to the Star Squad toward the end of MJ. I think it was meant to reunite everlark and top the angst as much as possible because all the “youngsters” are in danger at that point: Gale, Finnick, Peeta, Katniss... So you know, from countless previous books, one of them is likely to die and you angst about it. It’s an arena, you know there’s going to be a death (Finnick is the worst written death in the history of ever, it’s another topic but I felt the need to say it again, sue me over it I will be defending my opinion to the grave). I’m not really sure why it was important to have Peeta there aside for the whole Peeta/Gale talks. And it also doesn’t reflect well on Coin’s strategic mind. She was hoping they would kill each other, sure, but... Getting rid of Kat and then using Peeta as a prop seemed much clever... But hey I’m not the writer here XD

So, to sum up, I’m not unhappy about what was done with Peeta in MJ, it’s a twist yes but it’s a twist that works toward building a good healthy future relationship for everlark. It doesn’t rank on the top 5 of what annoys me about MJ haha. 

[jlalafics]

“A Babysitter’s Life”-A THG Alternate

I’m trying something a little different. Actually…really different.

For some reference, this story takes place about seven-ish years after the Rebellion, putting Katniss and Peeta in about their mid-twenties. Consider a Post-Rebellion Alternate where Rue was not picked for the 74th Hunger Games. All other deaths, however, have occurred.

_____________ 

Summary: “It’s my lauded life to take care of you Mellarks.”

In need of something new, Rue takes a job in District 12 for the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games.

This is my first time on a train. Actually, it is my first time anywhere.

Underneath me, I feel every track as we head towards my destination—District 12. Outside, a forest envelops our rickety train and I take a deep breath when a whiff of pine hits my nostrils. Already, I am getting accustomed to something new; our trees are mostly fruit-filled, smaller but plentiful and sweet-smelling. The forest around me is encompassing, filled with the rustic scent of undisturbed life.

My mother tells me this is the opportunity of a lifetime. It is a chance to see another District; meet some new people and to really learn what skills I have. I can tell, however, that my mother is more anxious to see me settled in somewhere…anywhere, really.

I think that she’s just tired of finding me laid up in another wheat field staring up at the sky.

The train begins to slow down as we reach our last stop and my new home.

It is still early and my train had very little passengers; there’s a handful of people waiting for their loved ones—and one boy.

He is grey-eyed and olive skinned with thick, inky hair brushed back from his sharp face. The boy leans against a post and when our eyes meet, I know that he has come for me.

Steeling myself, I stand up when the train comes to a halt and make my way out.

The boy is already in front of me when I step down onto the platform.

He lifts a strong brow at me. “Rue Andrews?”

“Yes,” I confirm.

“Rory Hawthorne,” the boy replies. “I’m to take you to the Mellarks.”

Rory reaches for my lone bag and I whip it away. “No need. I got it.”

He guffaws, a small grin on his lips as he holds his hands up in surrender. “Just trying to be polite.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as we head off the platform into what I’m guessing is the main part of District 12. “I’m not used to—”

“People trying to be polite?” he responds.

I let out a snort. “It’s just very early…” Something niggles at my memory and I look to him, trying to remember where I may have seen him. A poster drifts into my thoughts… “Why do you look familiar?”

Rory gives me a long look. “Maybe you’ve heard of my brother—Gale?”

Oh yes—Gale Hawthorne.

Part of the Star Squad during the Rebellion and currently the sweetheart of District 2. His wedding to some businessman’s daughter was splashed all over the papers and the Capitol’s main channel. My mind recalls a picture of Gale with his family and I briefly remember an image of Rory in a fitted suit.

I turn to him. “You look better in your regular clothes.”

Rory colors. “Yeah…Alice, Gale’s wife, wanted us to wear those monkey suits.” He meets my eyes. “So, how did you fall into the job of glorified babysitter for the Mellarks?”

“My mom was visiting her sister in District 4 and met Mrs. Everdeen,” I explain. “She was telling my mom about how Katniss is expecting another child and has to limit her activities because this pregnancy is a little more difficult. Also, that their daughter needs someone to run around with while Peeta is at their bakery. So, my mom volunteered for me.”

I also jumped at the chance. I needed something new.

Rory nods in understanding. “It can get stifling sometimes.”

“Don’t I know it,” I reply as we reach the end of town and toward a border fence. “So, your family was close to Katniss’, right?”

“Yes. Katniss and Gale used to go hunting together,” Rory recalls. “He was in love with her at some point…but she chose Peeta. It was the right choice, in my opinion.”

“Oh…so you also knew Pr—”

“I knew Prim,” Rory finishes hurriedly. “We grew up together and when we were in hiding in District 13, we took care of each other. Then, she joined the medical team—” He stops, his expression heavy. “We’re here.”

I stare up at an iron archway, leading to the cul-de-sac of grand houses. “Victors’ Village.”

“Yup,” Rory replies wryly. “Population: Four and a three-fourth people. I guess with you—five and three-fourths.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Thanks for the math lesson.”

We reach the first house on the right. There’s a well-tended garden in front and a pathway leading up to the house created with…primroses.

Rory follows my gaze as we approach the front door.

“Peeta planted them when he came back from the Capitol.”

“For Katniss,” I muse. “That’s romantic.”

A laugh comes from in front of us.

“I don’t think we had romance on our minds…we were just trying to keep ourselves from attacking one another.”

I look up to find a very pregnant Katniss Mellark standing in the open doorway.

++++++

Katniss Mellark looks surprisingly young.

While we are just a few good years apart in age, Katniss’ smooth complexion and clear greys could easily fool someone into thinking we are school-age friends instead of employer and employee. I have a hard time registering that the woman in front of me was once a seventeen-year-old who, in one action, started a revolution.

“Thanks for picking Rue up,” she tells Rory. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” he tells her easily. “I got to walk a cute, intelligent girl to your house. That’s reward enough.”

I turn to him. “I appreciate the intelligent. I hate the cute.” Reaching into my pocket, I hand him a few bills. “Here. Buy yourself a thesaurus and come up with some better adjectives.”

“I like you already,” Katniss says with a smirk before looking to Rory. “Stop by the bakery. Peeta has a few things that he needs help with.”

“You got it,” Rory replies. Stepping onto the porch, he gives me a wink. “I’m glad you’re here. See you around.”

He turns and saunters off before I can reply.

“Rory is a real charmer,” Katniss remarks as she closes the door.

“He’s a little much,” I tell her.

She laughs and then looks me over. “So, what made you decide to leave the lush orchards of District 11?”

“I don’t know.” I look around the entryway—painted a cool blue—before glancing to each side where the living room and den are. “There was just a yearning, I guess. A chance to do something new.” Turning, I meet her eyes. “Isn’t that what you fought for? A chance for the generations after you to live fully?”

“At the time, I was just trying to stay alive,” she says, somewhat shyly.

Her hands go to her belly; she’s entering her seventh month, from what I can tell. I’m the oldest of six and by the time Charlene—the last of my siblings—was born, I knew without my mom telling me that she was in labor.

“Well, it worked out in our favor. Thank goodness for that.” Katniss’ mouth opens just a bit as if to reply before it firmly closes. “Sorry. I’ve been told that I speak with absolutely no filter at times and it can throw people off.”

“You remind me a lot of Johanna,” she tells me.

“Johanna Mason?” I think for a moment. “She seemed a bit blunt during her interviews and I was never good at axe-wielding.”

“Talk to Johanna for five minutes and you might want an axe of your own.”

We both laugh and I can see the tension melt off her. I can also see that she is exhausted, her hands imperceptibly going to her lower back.

“Why don’t we go to the kitchen and you can tell me more about my duties?” I say gently.

Katniss nods, letting out a small breath. “Right down the hall towards the back.”

We head past the stairs and make a turn into the open archway where the kitchen is. It’s homey; peach wallpaper with a delicate filigree pattern and dark wood. A table stands adjacent to the backdoor heading to the yard and I lead Katniss to a chair, pulling it out for her.

“You’re perceptive,” she remarks. “Aster will like you.”

“Where’s your tea?” I ask and Katniss nods towards the cupboard next to me. I go to the cupboard and find the chamomile easily. “I like the name. Totally makes sense.”

Katniss gazes at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Aster—it means star.” The kettle is already filled on their stovetop so I just turn the flame on. “You know, because you and Peeta were ‘The Star-Crossed Lovers of District 12’.”

“Damn, I never thought of that,” she tells me with a smile. “She was born in September and that’s her birth month flower; we just kind of stuck with a theme.”

“If this one is a boy, are you going to give him some sort of bread name?” I tease as I search the cabinets for a mug. Their kitchen is organized well enough for me to find them in one of the upper cupboards.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a flower name for a boy,” a jovial voice says behind me.

Peeta Mellark looks quite different compared to the propos footage from the Rebellion.

Back then, he was gaunt; his blue eyes somewhat blank as Katniss stood at the forefront of the cameras. It was a little disheartening as he had so much charm during his Caesar Flickerman interview.

Besides Thresh, my mom favored him.

Putting memories of my past behind me, I watch as he greets Katniss, dipping his head to meet hers in a sweet kiss.

“Hello, my love,” he greets her tenderly.

In return, Katniss reaches to run a hand through his dirty-blond locks.

Present Peeta Mellark is, by far, my favorite.

“Rue, right?” He gives me a bright grin and I nod. “You’ve got Rory singing your praises.”

“It doesn’t seem all that hard to impress Rory,” I say wryly. Pouring the boiled water into the mug I find, I dip in the tea bag and place the cup in front of Katniss. “That tea bag would probably impress him.”

Peeta laughs warmly. “You’re going to fit in just fine here.”

++++++

Aster Mellark wakes up from her mid-afternoon nap.

By then, I have already set myself up in the room next to hers and I can hear her slight wail as she pulls herself from her slumber.

Without thought, I go into the nursery and find her in her daybed, staring up at the hanging mobile of the planets. The room is painted a sage green with the opposite wall being a beautiful mural of a meadow.

Going to the bed, I sit at the edge looking down at the toddler. ��Hi Aster. I’m Rue.”

Aster has the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen. They are large and almond-shaped with thick lashes framing her gorgeous orbs. Her hair is raven black and thick; it hits her shoulders and I think of the many hairstyles that I can do with such locks.

When she’s a grown-up, Katniss and Peeta will have their work cut out for them.

“Woo,” she repeats my name. Aster holds her arms out to me and I can’t help but reach for her.

I love the ‘little one’ smell and mourned each time one of my brothers or sisters outgrew that innocent scent of babydom.

Standing up, I give her a smile. “Are you hungry?”

“My wuv,” she says simply.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

Aster points outside. “My wuv! My wuv!”

“Your parents might need to fill me in,” I tell her as I carry her down the stairs, heading for the den.

Katniss and Peeta sit on the sofa, her head on his shoulder and his hand on her belly, as they talk to one another quietly. I almost hate to break up the intimacy of the moment, but Aster is already scrambling down my body and heading towards her parents.

She waves her hands out at Katniss, who picks her up. “My wuv, my wuv.”

Katniss turns to her husband. “Now she will never call me Mama.”

I think back on Peeta’s greeting and I bite back the need to coo—I am not sentimental.

But the thought of Aster imitating her father is just too much for me.

Next thing you know, I’ll be singing love songs and reading sonnets.

++++++

The next few days are pretty much routine.

I wake up first to get dressed and ready before Aster wakes up. I am lucky because I get the hallway bathroom to myself. Katniss and Peeta have their own in the master bedroom.

After that, Aster usually wakes up and I bring her downstairs to make her breakfast and some toast for Katniss. Morning sickness did not go away after that first trimester and she remains nauseous mostly in the morning, though there is an occasional afternoon disappearance into the commode.

Peeta, who wakes up at the crack of dawn to heat the ovens, comes back to deliver a fresh loaf of bread to check in on his wife and Aster. I make sure that he brings his lunch to the bakery before he takes off with a final kiss to his family and a friendly wave for me.

I can tell that he is assured that his two ladies are safe with me. We share one goal; to make sure they are cared for.

Eventually, I meet Haymitch Abernathy. He is a bear of a man, but his dark eyes soften when Aster rushes into his arms.

“Nice to meet you,” he says gruffly. “You know…if it wasn’t going to be them, I was rooting for Thresh.”

“Yes, I know.” My eyes go to the rough ground. “Thresh was that kind of guy, though—kind enough to save Katniss from Clove. Had a bit of a crush on him back in 11, but he never saw me as anything but the little sister type.” I look up to see Haymitch still gazing at me, his eyes full of empathy. “Kind of broke my heart when he—”

Haymitch puts a hand to my shoulder. “Well, it’s a damn shame because you grew up very lovely.”

“For some reason, I feel like you don’t give compliments too frequently,” I say with a smile. “Thanks.”

I think I can find myself caring for Haymitch as much as I’m beginning to care for the Mellarks.

“Get out!”

A shout comes from the house and immediately Haymitch gives Aster back to me.

“Wait here,” he commands. “Do not come in until I say it’s okay.”

There’s nothing I can do but nod in agreement.

++++++

It’s a full hour before Haymitch emerges from the house—he looks exhausted.

“Katniss is asking for Aster,” he says.

“What happened?” I cradle Aster who has long fallen asleep against me.

We head towards the house and I can’t help but feel a little apprehensive. The house looks as it normally does in the evening; warm yellow light seeping through handmade curtains and quiet as a mouse. However, there is a sinking feeling hitting my core as we walk up the steps.

“Once in a while,” Haymitch starts. “Peeta has these…episodes. Usually triggered by stress or in this case, a memory of the old bakery. They’re infrequent but when they hit, they hit hard. Katniss, in her condition, isn’t able to handle it so their old mentor is in charge.”

“Thank you,” I tell him. “Not many mentors would care to help.”

“I like ‘em,” he says offhandedly.

A smile grows on my lips. “You more than like them.”

Haymitch opens the front door for me. “Well, just don’t tell them that.”

After telling him goodnight and promising to update him later, I close the door behind me. I go to the den first; Katniss is lying down on the couch, her eyes closed.

When my steps creak against the floor, she opens her eyes and sits up carefully, her hands resting on her belly. Every day, I see her little one growing even more. Her grey eyes are weary and lined with tears, but she reaches for Aster immediately.

I place her in Katniss’ arms. “Are you okay?”

“He came across an old rolling pin of his father’s,” she explains quietly. “Mr. Mellark was always such a nice man, but he wasn’t without his faults. He never defended Peeta or his brothers from their mother.”

I nod in understanding. “I’m guessing she wasn’t the mothering type.”

“Far from it. Peeta wanted to understand their relationship,” Katniss continues. “It’s just with being a father or a mother, it’s hard to understand how anyone could not love their child. Mrs. Mellark didn’t love her kids and Mr. Mellark couldn’t muster enough love to defend them.”

“But Peeta still loves them, anyway?”

Katniss smiles, her eyes faraway. “That’s just the way Peeta is. He can’t help but love—even if you treat him badly. I’ve been one of those.”

“It was hard to see that through the camera’s view,” I remark. “But for some reason, from the beginning, I thought it was real.”

“Maybe it was.” Katniss shrugs, her eyes full of tears. “I was just too young and stupid to see it. Peeta…he always knew—and that’s what I fell in love with. That damn hope of his.”

“It’s a good way to be,” I reply. “Do you need anything?”

“Can you just check on him?” she asks quietly. “Peeta never wants me to see him after one of these episodes.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” However, I’m not sure if I’m wrong or not. “I’ll go make sure he’s okay and let him know that you’re down here.”

Katniss nods, before closing her eyes and cradling Aster even closer.

Going upstairs, I turn the opposite way of my room and toward the double doors. In the few weeks that I’ve been here, I have never been in the master bedroom as there was no need. However, I can’t help but worry about what state I’ll find Peeta in. Katniss has tiptoed around the torture tactics of the Capitol, but obviously it has damaged Peeta in some way.

Carefully, I knock.

“Come in,” Peeta says dully.

I let out a breath before turning the doorknob and stepping in.

I don’t close the door—just in case.

“I told Katniss I’d check on you,” I start as I walk into the room.

Peeta is laying on the bed, turned away from me, in a fetal position and I can hear him sniffle.

“I don’t know why…I acted horribly towards her.”

I stay where I am, but I feel like whatever happened has ebbed and now I’m facing a shell of a person.

“Katniss loves you,” I reply. “You know that, or you wouldn’t be feeling so bad.”

He laughs gruffly. “That’s true…I’ve always loved her, you know. Since we were kids.”

“I know.” Who doesn’t remember their time in the cave? My mom only let me watch it because it was featured on the screen at our town square. More than one woman swooned over Peeta’s sweet story of Katniss and the Valley song. “And that’s how I know that you never really mean to hurt her.”

“You have more faith in me than I do at the moment,” he tells me.

Peeta finally turns to me and I can see that his hands are bandaged. There is a small bit of blood on his lower lip while his blues are red-rimmed with regret.

“I do. I have faith that you love your family more than anything,” I say. “More than your parents may have loved you. Aster and the new baby will never feel that they weren’t adored because you and Katniss would rather die than let that happen.”

He nods in agreement. “I’ll go check on them…after I clean up.”

“I agree. You look like crap.”

Peeta guffaws. “Get to sleep, Rue. You’re done playing therapist for the day.”

I grin. “It’s my lauded life to take care of you Mellarks.”

“You’re doing a good job.”

I tell him goodnight, closing the door behind me. I listen briefly behind it, just to make sure that he’s alright and leave only when I hear him getting out of bed.

In my room, I remind myself to call my mother. She is a stoic woman—not quite as affectionate as others—but I can tell that she loves her children fiercely. She wouldn’t be working her butt off from dawn till dusk if she didn’t.

After I change and settle down, I still feel restless. It must be the adrenaline of everything that has happened in the last few hours. Also, I hate to admit, but I do worry about the Mellarks. Despite everything, Katniss and Peeta are still young adults just trying to make their way. They’re still learning how to be parents to Aster and their soon-to-be-arriving baby.

My mother tells me that she and my father made all sorts of mistakes with me, but it made them work as a team and made them stronger.

I hope it’s the same for Katniss and Peeta.

My stomach growls and I realize that I haven’t eaten dinner. There’s always a little something in the fridge so I’m quickly on my feet and out the door. It’s as I head down the stairs that I hear something; it’s coming from the den where I left Katniss.

“I’m so sorry, love.” It’s Peeta. “Sometimes, I don’t how you put up with me. Part of me thinks that I’m never going to be fixed.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Katniss tells him. “You can’t repair what’s a part of you…a part of us. This damage from the rebellion and the Games, it’s not going to go away. But we can’t let it take over us. Every day, we just try and live as best we can. We fought so hard to get here.”

I hear the smile in Peeta’s voice. “When did you become the optimist?”

Katniss snorts. “All these stupid hormones have made me soft. As soon as this one is out, I’m going into the woods and shooting something.”

“I look forward to it,” Peeta tells her.

They laugh quietly and it fills me with happiness.

For all is well in our little home.

++++++

“So, everything is alright?”

I walk along the edge of the forest with Rory on a rare day to myself. It has been two months since I’ve come to District 12 and I feel like it’s become part of my skin. I know every creak of the Mellark house or the exact cry that Aster makes whenever she wants the blue spoon and not the pink one. I know the right amount of time it takes to make Katniss’ favorite tea and when a homemade loaf made by Peeta has been proofed enough.

I can even feel the seasons change; this autumn is tense. Baby Mellark is almost here—and sometimes I feel I’ll know the exact moment that he or she is ready to come.

“Yes, it’s been quiet since the incident,” I tell Rory as we walk into the woods just beyond the border of District 12. “How were they when they were younger? Before the Games?”

“I didn’t know Peeta all too much,” Rory says as he kicks a stone in his path. “He was always a good guy…like his Dad. I’ve known Katniss since I was a kid because she spent so much time with Gale. She was serious and stubborn like him; they were peas in a pod. In the end, they were too much alike. My mother always knew that they weren’t meant for each other, but Gale was insistent that she was his.”

“And the Games changed that?”

“Katniss learned to care for someone outside her circle,” he tells me. “She didn’t have to take care of Peeta, but there was something about Peeta that just made him special…and it killed Gale. I mean, any idiot watching the Games could see that kiss was real.”

“Is it silly that I always wanted a kiss like that one in the cave?” I admit. “Not the ‘fearing for my life’ aspect of it, but that ‘I’m seeing something wonderful right in front of my face and I can’t let him go’ part.” I smile dryly. “So far, none of my kisses have been like that.”

“Mine were.” Rory stops, his eyes looking out ahead. “Back in District 13, Prim and I…” His fists clench. “Maybe it was because we weren’t sure what was going to happen from one day to the next…but they felt real.”

“I didn’t know Prim.” My hands instinctively go to his to stop him from breaking skin. “But from what you’ve told me and what Katniss tells me whenever she can muster up the courage to, Prim was not the kind of person who would just kiss someone and not mean it.”

“What if it never happens again?” he asks.

I shake my head. “One day it will and if all else fails, I’ll give it a go.”

Rory grins at me. “You’ll take me on?”

“I never said that,” I say. “I’m just realistic. I don’t think that I’ll ever have a kiss like Katniss and Peeta’s from the cave. Love doesn’t come in spades.”

“You sound just like Katniss,” Rory teases. “She was always saying she never wanted kids, especially when the Capitol was up and killing them for show. And she was still adamant after it was all over—took Peeta years to convince to her to have Aster.” We stop and Rory helps me onto a rock overlooking the wide meadow before us. “My mom was there the day Aster was born. She told me as soon as she was in Katniss’ arms, that resistance…that fear…just melted from her eyes.”

“And you think one kiss will change my mind about love?”

Rory grins at me. “I don’t know—but it doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t give a try.”

++++++

“Hi Mama!” I call out into the phone receiver. It’s been forever since I’ve heard from her; my mother has been working tirelessly since returning from District 4. She is a supervisor in one of the orchard fields and it leaves her little time to catch up with me here in 12. “How is it going?”

“Same old, same old,” she replies. “We really miss you out here. I mean, Casey has been doing just fine taking care of the rest of the brood, but he can’t make the roast and potatoes the way the younger ones want it!”

Casey is seventeen and should be focusing on school. Instead he takes care of my younger siblings and takes a night shift at one of our production factories. As beautiful as it is in District 11, it doesn’t come without hard work.

“They shouldn’t be so picky,” I admonish.

“How are Katniss and Peeta? Their little ones?” Mom asks curiously.

I bite back the need to roll my eyes; I am sure that she’s been telling everyone that her oldest is living in the Mellark home, reaping the benefits of some Victors.

It is quite far from that.

Over time, I have come to realize that the rewards don’t necessarily balance out the punishment of winning the Games. Wonderful as Katniss and Peeta are, they work hard to create a semblance of normalcy for themselves and Aster.

It can be a trial for both, but I have seen them work through moments of gripping table edges or counters, biting back tears at memories, and having nightmares that leave them both trembling in cold sweats.

And I am here to take Aster in my room when needed or bring one of them a glass of water or cup of tea after a hard day.

In some ways, it’s important to me that they live as normally as they can—because they’ve fought so hard.

“It’s just fine. Katniss and Peeta are just a run-of-the-mill couple with a different kind of love story,” I tell her. “Aster, their daughter, is just precious. It’s almost time for the next one to come so we’re just waiting.”

“That sounds great,” my mother replies. There’s a long pause. “Sweetheart, Troy has been asking about you.”

I grip the receiver at the sound of his name. “Oh yeah?”

“He’s been asking if you’re coming home,” she continued carefully. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but you’ve been connected since birth. His mother and I practically worked in the orchard side by side when we were having you both—”

“What are you saying, Mama?” I ask abruptly.

“In about a month, a job will open up here in 11,” she tells me. “We miss you. I’m not trying to pressure you—I just want you to think on it.” There’s a sigh and I’m not sure if it’s coming from me or Mom. “And, this whole thing with Troy—you have to make a decision, either way.”

“I know,” I reply. “I have to go. Aster is going to wake up from her nap soon.”

“Alright, Rue.” There’s resignation in her tone. “Talk soon. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mama.” I hang up, biting back the need to sob or scream into the receiver.

I lied. Aster is already awake, sitting on the porch with her parents.

I feel bad for lying, but I’m not ready to face what I’ve left behind.

Stepping out onto the porch, I find Peeta and Katniss sitting on the swing seat. Across the way, Aster is sitting on Haymitch’s lap as he plays a game of chess with Rory.

I sit down on the steps of the porch, leading to the courtyard. The sun is just beginning to set and I close my eyes to take in that last bit of orange warmth.

“You okay there?” Katniss asks. “Did your phone call go alright?”

“Yes.” I let out a breath. “Just going through something similarly like the whole Gale situation, if you know what I mean.”

“So, you ran here,” Peeta says.

It isn’t a question and we both know it.

“I needed a change.” I turn to them. “Troy has been my friend since birth; our mothers worked side by side while we were in their stomachs. So, I guess he always thought I belonged to him.” I open my eyes, finding Rory looking to me, curiosity in his gaze. “I just want to belong to me. I’m not ready to just…give in.”

“Woo!” Aster toddles over to me, perching herself in my lap. “Sing.”

“Sing? What am I—your own personal songbird?” I tickle her and she giggles. “Well, if I’m going to be someone’s songbird, I would love to be yours.” Aster settles against me and I take in that wonderful smell of youth before deciding on a song—one that I heard when I was a child whenever my father came home from work, when my mother still danced.

“Something in your eyes, makes me want to lose myself

Makes me want to lose myself, in your arms…”

I’m not much of a singer, but Aster nestles herself against me contently. Haymitch and Rory have paused their game to listen and though it should scare me, I feel light singing this song.

It reminds me of better times.

“If you knew how lonely my life has been

And how long I've been so alone

And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along

And change my life the way you've done…”

“You’re dancing with me, Katniss.” Peeta helps her stand carefully. “I don’t want our last dance to have been at Snow’s Ball.”

Katniss doesn’t argue instead letting him lead her into the courtyard to dance along the fireflies.

As I watch them, they look lightyears away, wrapped up in nothing but each other.

“It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me

It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me

It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong…”

I close my eyes once more, rocking Aster against me. I fall into memories of warm fall nights and the smell of coffee on the stove. I can’t even make a pot sometimes without wanting to burst into tears. It just evokes memories of a man who would drink coffee to stay up so he and my mother could have a conversation to themselves sans their six children.

“But I'm alright, 'cause I have you here with me

And I can almost see, through the dark there is light…”

I open my eyes just as Katniss embraces Peeta and for a moment, I don’t see them.

I see my mother and father dancing to their wedding song.

“Well, if you knew how much this moment means to me

And how long I've waited for your touch

And if you knew how happy you are making me

I never thought that I'd love anyone so much…”

I always told myself that I wouldn’t settle for anything less than what they have. Seeing Katniss and Peeta with one another strengthens that resolve, nothing less than having someone look at me the way that they look at one another.

Like they’ve found home in one another.

I finish my song, and everyone applauds softly as Aster has fallen asleep in my arms.

“You’re crying.” I didn’t even notice that Rory has found himself on the porch steps. He reaches forward to brush away the stray tear that managed to hit my cheek. “I never pegged you as the sentimental type.”

“My parents used to dance to that song every night after us kids went to bed,” I find myself admitting. “If I close my eyes, I can still picture them as I peeked behind my door. Then Dad was gone, and the music just stopped.”

“Makes you wonder if love like that could even last forever,” he says. “Or are we all just destined to muddle through half-lives and half-loves.”

“Half-lives and half-loves.” I find myself almost laughing…or weeping. “If there was ever a more appropriate word for how my life is currently going.”

“No.” Rory shakes his head, gazing into my eyes until my skin tingles. “Someone like you could never do anything but live fully and love fully. You’re just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid because you already know everything that you need to be happy.”

++++++

The arrival of the fourth Mellark comes when the first leaf of autumn hits the ground. I am sitting in the kitchen with Katniss having a cup of tea; her stomach has reached its limit at this point and so has she.

“So, this…Troy…” She takes a sip and sighs in contentment. “What made you run away?”

I try to gather my words before responding, “I think he only really saw me as a woman when others started to notice.” I smile crisply. “It bothered me, too—this ownership he thought he had—like I was just waiting for him to decide that he wanted me. Love shouldn’t be an obligation; it should be an honor. In the end, all I want is for someone to look at me the way my father looked at my mother. Like Peeta looks at you.”

“I understand,” Katniss replies gently. “Sometimes, when you feel the world is falling apart around you, you tend to keep who and what you know close to you. Because it’s just too scary to see what might be on the other side—” She suddenly grimaces before letting out a breath. “Just some stretching pain, nothing to worry about.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “No, I think it’s more.” I help her up. “I’m going to help you up to bed and then call Peeta.”

“You sure?” she asks doubtfully. “It didn’t feel this way with Aster.” Another gasp escapes her mouth. “Oh, that felt different.”

“My mother had six children,” I tell her. “No two births will feel ever feel the same.”

Together, we make our way upstairs and into the master bedroom. I go to her wardrobe, taking out a nightgown and handing it to her.

“Aster is still down for her nap,” I inform her as I turn and give her privacy. “I’ll check on her, call Peeta and Mrs. Hawthorne then come back. Is there anything you need while I’m downstairs?”

Katniss shakes her head as she gets into bed. “No, I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll make you a sandwich and bring up some water,” I tell her. “You’ll need your strength.”

She smiles gratefully. “You think of everything.”

++++++

Peeta and Mrs.Hawthorne arrive quickly. After a quick exam, it seems that Katniss has a long while to go. We all continue throughout the day as normal; Peeta bakes in the kitchen knowing that we will need sustenance throughout the next few days. Mrs. Hawthorne sits at Katniss’ side knitting a swaddle blanket for the little one while I care for Aster.

Aster comes to visit her mother a few hours into the labor. She jumps onto the bed and nestles at her mother’s side.

“Hello wuv,” she says, her bright blue staring up at her mother.

“I’m bringing you a little brother or sister,” Katniss informs her as she lets out a small exhale. “Will you be good for Daddy and Rue?”

Aster nods, her blue eyes solemn. “Yes, wuv.”

There’s a knock and Peeta emerges from behind the bedroom door. He places a kiss on his wife’s forehead and gives her a bright smile.

“How are you doing, love?” he asks.

“Oh, you know the usual—trying to push your child into the world,” Katniss answers with a small grin.

“Rory and Posy are downstairs,” Peeta tells us before holding his arms out to Aster. “Why don’t you come downstairs with me so you can have dinner?”

“I’ll take her,” Mrs. Hawthorne offers. “I want to check in with the kids, anyway.” Going to Peeta, she offers her arms to Aster. “Come on honey, let’s go.”

“Thanks Hazelle,” Peeta tells her gratefully.

“No problem.” Mrs. Hawthorne holds Aster protectively. “I sure miss them at this age.”

They disappear into the hallway, leaving me with the couple.

Peeta looks to his wife. “How are you really feeling?”

“Like someone is grabbing my lady parts and just twisting away.” Katniss grimaces. “Here comes another one…”

I immediately go to support her back. “Breathe out slowly.”

Katniss clenches her teeth. “Oh, this feels intense.” She looks between Peeta and me. “Someone distract me.”

“Well, we got a new custom cake order—”

“No! Peeta, I love you, but I can’t get excited about frosting the way you want me to,” she tells him.

“I left District 11 because Troy proposed to me.”

Peeta and Katniss turn to me in shock.

“Besides my Mom, you’re the only other people who know,” I continue quietly. “I sometimes go to lay out in a field near my home…it’s my spot. One day, Troy was there and before I could even think, he was down on his knee.”

“Then what?” Katniss asks.

I shake my head. “All I could think is…get the hell out of my field.” I look between the couple. “Is that bad of me?”

Peeta shakes his head. “What was your other option? Just say yes to save his pride? No offense, but from what you’ve been telling Katniss, it doesn’t seem like a match made out of love—but out of obligation.”

“I just feel bad because…I don’t want you to think that I came here to run away—even if it sounds like it,” I explain. “The truth is that I never felt like I was more home than when I came to District 12. When I came to stay with you three…almost four, I started to feel like myself.”

Katniss takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. “You do belong here.”

Peeta covers her hand and grins at me. “This is your home now—if you want it to be.”

I tried to hold my back my tears, but my thank you still sounds a bit watery.

++++++

“Okay, Katniss…push!”

Mrs. Hawthorne stands at the edge of the bed, ready and waiting for the newest Mellark to arrive.

Night came and went as we can now see dawn coming in through the bedroom window. I put Aster down to sleep many hours ago while Posy, who volunteered to stay the night, stayed in the bed adjacent to her. I then took a quick nap when—at around three in the morning—Peeta roused me because Katniss was requesting my presence.

Currently, I am holding one of her legs while Peeta holds the other.

“I can’t…I’m too tired…” Katniss is exhausted and delirious…tears and sweat intermingling her flushed face. She looks to Peeta. “I’m sorry…”

Peeta shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You are tired and you’ve had no rest. I am a rotten husband getting you into this situation.”

Katniss nods. “You kind of are!” Her face crumbles. “I want Prim.”

We all go silent at her admission.

Because as much as we want to give her comfort, there is no way to get her sister back.

Tears fill my eyes thinking of the many occasions that I have wished for my own father. I think of all the important moments that he won’t be there for: my wedding…the birth of my children—

“You can pretend I’m Prim,” I tell her softly. “Close your eyes and just imagine that you’re gripping her hand…” Katniss looks to me, smoky eyes filled, before doing what I say. “And, just imagine what she would tell you at this very moment.”

“She would say to suck it up. There are more important things to do right now,” Katniss says.

I move closer to her ear. “Suck it up. There are more important things to do right now.”

Katniss nods, eyes still closed. “Okay, I think I’m ready to push again.”

“At the count of three,” Mrs. Hawthorne begins. “One…two…three!”

Katniss bears down and it is a long, tense-filled moment as we wait to see if there is any progress—

A shrill cry breaks the moment.

“It’s a boy.” Mrs. Hawthorne grins before taking the little one and putting him on Katniss’ chest. “Looks like he’s got a little gold on him.”

Katniss lets out a content sigh, her eyes on the sticky, little thing currently laying on her. “Hello there.”

“We have a son,” Peeta says in a thick voice. He gives Katniss a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you, love.”

“Always.” Katniss then turns to me. “Thank you.”

“It’s my job,” I tell her before wiping the tears from my eyes.

++++++

Stepping out into the hallway, I am surprised to discover Rory coming up the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is hoarse with exhaustion and I lean against the wall to keep my body up.

“I slept downstairs in the den,” he explains sheepishly. “So, the baby is here?”

“A boy.” I smile to myself. “Beautiful like the rest of his family and golden-haired like Pr—” I stop, struggling to suppress the emotion churning inside of me. “Why did you stay?”

Rory goes scarlet. “I stayed…for you.”

I shake my head. “You stayed because you were helping Prim’s family. I’m nothing but a glorified babysitter. Remember?”

I turn away so he won’t see me cry over the dumbest reason in the world—I don’t want to be Prim’s substitute.

Suddenly, Rory crosses the space between us and pulls me into his arms.

“I came here for you.” His hand reaches gently into the tangle that is my hair. “The person who cared for Prim—who loved her—was still just a boy. He will always love her in some way, but he had to grow up.”

“And now?” I ask into his chest.

A wisp of a kiss brushes against my forehead. “The man holding you stayed for you.”

I hold him closer to me, never wanting to leave this feeling of belonging—of home.

“Thank you for staying.”

For now, this is the closest I can get to ‘I love you’.

++++++

“Careful now,” I instruct Aster as I help her hold her little brother. “He’s still very fragile.”

“Ohh…baby,” Aster says in awe. The newborn in her arms let out a yawn and she giggles. “Hello wuv!”

“I guess you’ve been dethroned,” I tell Katniss with a laugh as I settle into the chair next to the bed. “Maybe she’ll start calling you Mama now.”

“I’ll gladly relinquish the title,” she replies, looking at the children by her side. “They look like they’re going to be a handful.”

“Aster is a spitfire in herself!” I look to the little girl who I’ve come to love like one of my own siblings. “But she’ll protect her little brother—like you protected Prim.”

Katniss meets my eyes. “Listen, Peeta told me what you did before I had the baby. I was tired and I say things that I don’t mean. When I had Aster, I asked to see my dad…”

“It’s really not a problem,” I say in what I hope is a light voice.

“It is, because you’re not Prim…she’s gone,” she says in a tight voice. “And because we all care for you, not just as some replacement Prim—but because you’re you.” Katniss places her hand over mine. “Peeta and I hope you will stay for the long haul. Aster needs you…so does Oak.”

“I still can’t believe you named him that,” I tell her.

I jokingly told her and Peeta weeks ago that since they’re into flower names for girls, they should look into tree names for boy.

When they asked for an example, I gave them Oak—my father’s middle name.

“It sounded right,” Katniss responds with a wave of her hand. “Anyway, the point is we need you.”

I settle back for a moment, taking in her words, before finally answering.

“May I make a phone call?”

Katniss’ mouth widens in a grin. “Take all the time you need.”

I leave the room, heading down the stairs and go into the kitchen first to place the kettle onto the stove to heat some water and then take Katniss’ favorite cup out of the cabinet. Making sure that Peeta’s lunch is packed, I then head into the den where the telephone is.

Taking a deep breath, I reach for the receiver and dial.

The call is answered immediately.

“Hello Mama.”

++++++

We walk around the forest, steps steady as we head towards an unknown destination.

“So, you’re staying?” Rory says, his eyes ahead.

I nod, letting the smile rise on my lips. “I’m staying.”

He reaches, his hand taking mine, our fingers intertwining with ease. It feels right. “Now what?”

I stop and Rory follows suit turning to me.

My hand reaches to the nape of his neck, pulling him close enough so that I can push onto my tiptoes to press my lips to his. He pulls me closer and I sink into him, losing myself as we fall deep into the kiss.

Moments…hours later, we finally separate, breathless and grinning.

I take his hand once more.

“How about you show me the rest of our home?”

FIN.

  This is different, but I enjoyed writing it.

I hoped you enjoyed reading it.

 Song: “Feels Like Home”- Chantal Kreviazuk

Thank you again if you even got through this. Aster and Oak really appreciate it.

Please feel free to message me with any questions, comments, or requests.

 Until the next story,

JLaLa

[javistg]

One Victor. CH 18. P1.

I don’t know about you, but I’m super excited to be writing again! Camp NaNo is going much better than I expected, and my writing sprints have been paying off. 

Here’s the new scene I finished for Chapter 18. You can find the rest of the fic HERE. 

As usual, this snippet is un-betaed and subject to change. 

Enjoy!

Chapter 18. Part 1.

Katniss hid her face behind her scarf and picked up her pace. Temperatures were dropping fast.

Her little trek through the woods had taken longer than she'd anticipated, and the sky was already turning dark. 

She knew she had at least an hour before curfew, but she didn't like the idea of being out in the woods after dark.

After stashing her weapons in the hollow log, Katniss headed for the fence. She was crouched on one knee, prepared to enter the Meadow when she heard it again. The low hum of electricity —as dangerous as the buzz of a tree full of tracker jacker nests— that indicated the fence was alive.

In an instant, her feet backed up until she blended into the trees. What now? She asked herself, already feeling the shot of adrenaline coursing through her, setting her senses on high alert. 

Katniss looked around, anxiously trying to determine whether there was anything amiss on the other side of the fence. She saw nothing. The wire hadn't been disturbed, and there were no footprints on the snow. Everything was just as she'd left it. 

The lack of movement around the Meadow eased her worries. This wasn't the first time she'd been caught outside of the district by an electrified fence. As long as the Peacekeepers didn't see her, she'd be OK. 

I've never been alone, though, a scared inner voice reminded her. 

That was true. Gale had always been with her. Together, they would just pick a comfortable tree to hang out in until the power shut off. It never took more than a couple of hours for the hum to stop. Once it did, the hunters climbed down from their hiding places and went back home.  

Sometimes, when Katniss was running late, Prim went to the Meadow to check if the fence was charged --to spare Mrs. Everdeen, and herself, the worry. But that wasn't going to happen today.

Because Prim doesn't know where I am. Katniss tightened her fists, wanting to slap herself for her carelessness. Nobody does. 

She had told Prim and Gale she'd be in Victors' Village, and Peeta probably thought she was at home with Prim. 

What would happen once the curfew alarm rang, and she was nowhere to be found? Would Prim come looking out for her? She certainly hoped not. 

But her most immediate worry was that Thread and his men had probably powered the fence off for repairs, and there was no reason for them to disconnect it now that it was working again.

So that was it. Katniss was stuck. Trapped in the forest and looking for a way in. After spending the last few days longing to escape, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

 Straightening up, Katniss peered through the trees, past the fence, into the Meadow. All she could see was the wet snow illuminated here and there by the light from the windows on the edge of the Seam. There were no Peacekeepers in sight, no signs of a patrol or surveillance team. 

A faint flicker of hope sparked in her chest. She could still get back inside the fence unseen. But how?

Any contact with the chain link or the coils of barbed wire that guarded the top would mean instant electrocution. And burrowing under the fence wasn't an option either, not with the ground frozen hard underneath it. 

Katniss looked up. There was only one choice. Somehow, she was going to have to go over it. 

Under cover of darkness, she began to skirt along the tree line, searching for a tree with a branch high and long enough to fit her needs. 

After about a mile, she came upon an old maple that looked just about right. But the tree's trunk was much too wide and icy to shinny up —and there were no low branches for her to hold on to. So she turned to look at the neighboring trees. 

She was trying to figure out how she could climb onto one of those trees and then leap into the maple when the distinctive sound of snow being crushed under someone's feet made her turn.

A stocky figure, bundled against the wind and snow, went barreling down the deserted street headed straight to her. 

Panicked, Katniss jumped behind the tree and hoped, with every frantic heartbeat, that the thick trunk would conceal her. 

The figure reached the fence and, leaning as close as they dared, hissed, "Katniss!"

Even in its urgent, angry tone, the familiar voice was like music to Katniss's ears. Smiling in relief, she stepped away from the tree. "Peeta? How… What are you doing here?" 

Peeta crossed his arms over his chest. Part of his face was covered by a scarf, but there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

Ignoring the bite in his words, Katniss walked towards him —stopping so close to the gate separating them that she could almost feel the electricity vibrating off the chain link. "The fence was off." 

With a shake of his head, Peeta turned to look behind his back. As if out of thin air, Gale's tall frame materialized by his side. 

Startled, Katniss jerked back. 

Gale chuckled, the sound softer than the flutter of wings. "Hey, Catnip!" 

Wide-eyed, Katniss watched as Gale unzipped his coat and, with Peeta's help, began untying a length of rope which had been coiled around his torso. 

With quick fingers, Peeta curled the rope into a ball and gave it back to Gale. 

"Step back a little," Gale instructed.

Katniss did as she was told. 

Gale took a couple of steps back, took aim, and with one graceful pitch threw the ball over the fence. 

Katniss picked up the ball. "What now?"

"Untie the rope, swing it over the branch, and use it to shinny up." Using his finger, Gale indicated her movement along the branch and over the fence. "Once you're inside, drop the rope again, and climb down."

"Alright." Katniss walked up to the tree. The branch was high, but it only took her a couple of throws to swing the rope over it. 

Moving quickly, she climbed up the rope and reached the branch. The slippery bark almost made her lose her grip, but she managed to get a hold on the limb. After twisting the rope back into a ball, she slowly inched her over the barbed wire.

Once she was safely inside the district, Katniss looked down. There was a reason why she and Gale waited in the woods rather than try to tackle the fence. Being high enough to avoid getting fried meant being at least twenty feet in the air. Her branch was at least twenty-five. 

It was a long way to drop, even with a snowbank to cushion her landing. Luckily, she had her rope. 

Working as quickly s she could, Katniss untangled her rope and looped it around the branch. 

Below her, Peeta grabbed the two ends of the rope and pulled at them until they were even. He looked up. "It's a bit short, but I can catch you."

Katniss nodded. Holding on to the branch as tightly as she could, she dropped her legs down, reached for the rope, and used it to slide down.

She hadn't reached the end of the rope yet when she felt Peeta's strong arms reaching for her hips. 

As Peeta's warm hands tightened around her, Katniss let go of the rope; allowing him to bring her down the rest of the way. 

Her feet had barely touched the ground when Peeta's arms enveloped her in a fierce embrace. 

As a rule, Katniss wasn't used to being touched. Other than Prim, no one really hugged her. The few quick hugs she received from Gale or his family on her birthday or New Year's were little more than pats on the back, but this was different.

This was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after spending a lifetime out in the cold.

No one had held her like that in a long time. Not once, since her father died, and she stopped trusting her mother, had someone else's arms made her feel that safe. 

Instead of pushing him away, --like she normally would have-- Katniss threw her arms around Peeta's neck. 

The spicy-sweet scent she recognized as his, filled her lungs --invading her senses. She closed her eyes, blocking the world away, and losing herself to the comfort and tenderness of the moment. 

Feeling Katniss's body relaxing against his, Peeta pulled her in close and buried his face in her hair. His anger was gone, but she could still hear the worry in his voice. "You promised, Katniss. You said you'd stay safe."

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered as she tightened her hold on him. "I didn't think I'd be gone that long."

Peeta nodded. His lips brushed over a spot on Katniss's neck where her scarf had gotten loose. Warmth radiated from his touch. Light-headed with a sudden, ravenous need, Katniss stretched her neck to let it spread through the rest of her. 

Temporarily lost to time and logic, Katniss held on to Peeta, basking in his warm embrace as if it were a joyous summer day, and stubbornly refusing to let go. 

In the cold winter night, the sound of Gale clearing his throat was what finally broke them apart. 

Peeta was the first to pull back. With a hint of mischief in his smile, he reached for Katniss's scarf and wrapped it snugly around her throat. "We should get going."

Fighting the blush creeping up her cheeks, Katniss turned to Gale. "Got everything?"

"Yup." Gale patted his coat. He had wrapped the rope around his body once more to conceal it from curious eyes.  

Slipping her hands into her pockets, Katniss began to walk with Gale and Peeta flanking her on either side. 

Once the group had left the Meadow behind, Katniss leaned closer to Peeta. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I asked around." Katniss's annoyed scowl almost made him laugh. She was clearly not satisfied with his answer. If they had been back in his house, he would have teased her about it, making her suffer a bit for the way she'd made him worry earlier, but they were in the middle of the street, and they weren't alone. Gale had been pleasant enough, but they had only met that afternoon, and Peeta had more sense than to get on the wrong side of Katniss's hunting partner. 

"I got worried when you didn't show up this afternoon," Peeta explained, "So, I went over to your place. Prim already knew the fence had been turned off. We came out here to check and, when we saw that the fence was on, again, she took me over to Gale's."

"Prim knew the fence was off?"

"Yeah, I told her," Gale said.

Katniss turned to glare at Gale, irritated by the fact that he hadn't mentioned anything about the fence when she'd seen him earlier. "How did you know?"

"Come on, Catnip! You're not the only one who goes past it every day. I thought about going under myself, but the school was almost out, and Peacekeeper patrols were going on their rounds. I guess I figured it would hold until tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, …surprise!" Katniss grumbled.

 Gale shook his head, he knew his friend had taken an unnecessary risk, and he was dying to call her on it, but he wasn't about to do that with Peeta mellark in tow. Besides, deep down, he understood the need that had driven her to sneak under the fence that afternoon. "Did you catch anything, at least?"

Looking almost embarrassed, Katniss placed a hand over her empty hunting bag. "I did but…."

It was Peeta's turn to be curious. "But what?"

Katniss stopped walking. Her hands flew to the strap of her hunting bag, and she began twisting it in her hands. Her little adventure in the woods had been nothing like what she imagined when she sneaked under the fence, and she was dying to talk to Peeta about it. 

Actually, if she was honest, she also wanted to tell Gale. 

Her two companions stood in front of her. Two pairs of very different eyes waited expectantly for her words. 

"I need to tell you something but…" Katniss looked around anxiously. As far as she could tell, there were no cameras or surveillance equipment on that street, but this was Panem. Someone was always watching. 

Understanding Katniss's trepidation, Peeta slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small signal scrambler Portia had given him. At first, he had thought it only worked to distort telephone conversations, but Cinna had explained that the little device created a white noise screen that interfered with any microphones within listening range.

Peeta pressed his thumb to the small disc and waited until it vibrated in his palm. "You can talk now, no one will hear us."

"Those are real?" Gale asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. 

"They are." Peeta turned the disc in his hand to show it to Gale. "I got it from my stylist." Before Gale could ask any more questions, Peeta slipped the activated scrambler back in his pocket. "Katniss? What happened out there?"

[everlark-your-own-adventure]

Powder Keg - Ch 7

Welcome back to the adventure we’re all everlarking together! Fallen behind in the story? Here are the previous chapters: 

Chapter 1 /// Chapter 2 /// Chapter 3 /// Chapter 4 /// Chapter 5 /// Chapter 6

Last week found our darlings rescued from old Hans cave and Katniss transported for medical care. More revelations ensued, and you, everlarkers, voted for her to accept Peeta’s offer to rebuild their friendship on a foundation of honesty and trust.

This week, the lovely and talented @notanislander continues our adventure.  As always, you have 48 hours to vote, until noon, Wednesday, December the 20th. Remember, vote in the comments or reblogs, not in the tags! And as always, share with your friends, more voices = more fun! Ready? Here we go… grab your favourite warm beverage and settle in for our weekly trip to Mt. Mockingjay…

Trust. It's something that doesn't come easily to me. When my father died, my mother went into a severe depression, something she struggles with to this day. In my head, I know she is doing the best she can, but in my heart, I am still that ten- or eleven-year-old girl wishing her mother would talk to her, even look at her.

It’s something I didn’t have with Peeta three years ago. If I had trusted him, I might have given him a chance to explain the situation. I might have stopped to listen when he told me about Bristel’s brother. But I didn’t. I did what I always do - I ran. I thought it was easier to keep my heart locked up tight and I almost convinced myself of that too. Right up until the cave. That’s when I realized something. My life has been a shadow since I walked away from Peeta three years ago. Sure I had Prim, and I had Gale, but what else did I have? A life? No. A future to look forward to? No. I just existed.

I’m sentenced to a week of “bed rest” by both my mother and the Emergency Room doctor. Peeta behaves so nicely. Every morning, he stops by our house on his way to the ski lodge with fresh baked cheese buns in hand. I’m surprised he remembers how much I love them, and they taste just as good as ever.

He carries me downstairs everyday, but never stays too long since he needs to get to work. He comes by in the evenings too, freshly showered and so happy to help my mother out with any small thing. He even helps Prim with her English term paper on To Kill a Mockingbird. And he always saves time to just talk with me. Sometimes he’ll bring his sketchbook over and we’ll sit quietly while he makes sketches of the resort, my house, trees, whatever he’s thinking about. “It helps calm me down after a full day at the lodge,” he tells me. “I like people, but sometimes it gets a bit much, you know? So this helps refocus me.” We might even watch a movie on Netflix, and then, just before he heads home, he carries me up to my room.

By the end of the week, I’m going stir-crazy. I need to get out, start making money again. No matter how my mother argues, I know we need the money and being off for a week just before the holidays certainly isn’t helping our situation, which was dire to begin with.

“Katniss, stop!” my mother chastises. “I have an interview at the drop-in clinic tomorrow. They need another nurse and I think this will be a good fit.” My mother’s eternal optimism is tempered only by my eternal pessimism, which were both brought about by her depression. I know full well what can happen if my mother gets too much bad news, so I am always prepared for the worst. Luckily, it seems Prim is oblivious to it all.

“Katniss,” she whispers later, when we are alone in our shared room, “This job is going to workout for mom. I really think it is.” It seems Prim has inherited the sunny side as well.

“I hope so little duck. Because missing this week without pay is not helping one bit.” I snap back; angry at myself, angry at the Lodge, angry at pretty much everyone.

Everyone, that is, except Peeta, which is both a change and a revelation to me all at once. I’ve been so angry with him for three years, that to not be angry now takes me aback. Why am I not angry at him? In some ways, my anger would be justified. I mean, he did distract me and cause me to fall. Didn’t he? Or did I imagine that? I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure of a lot, to be honest.

Having barely survived the torturous week of bed rest, I am finally able to be back at the lodge. When Peeta heard I was going back to work, he insisted that he would pick me up every morning and drive me back home in the evenings. I told him he didn’t need to, that my mother could do it, but he just smiled and told me it was no problem. So I gave up and accepted his kindness. “Isn’t this nice? Just you and me in the truck? Kind of like old times!” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, old times,” I smile back, hoping he isn’t thinking of how those ‘old times’ ended up. I am hoping for a very different ending this time around.

I’ve almost come to accept the fact that I’ll be working in the snack bar all winter to make up for the lost wages I was getting as a ski instructor. I wasn’t a great instructor, but at least I was earning something more than minimum wage. I am trying really hard to not feel sorry for myself right now, but it isn’t easy.

I look out the window and watch Peeta and Gale work with the group of elementary students, the very ones who caused me to sprain my knee in the first place. Their teacher, Madge, is flirting with Gale, which is intriguing because I thought she had a thing for Peeta. “Hmmm, watching from the window might not be such a bad thing altogether,” I say quietly to myself.

I’m lost in speculation when Johanna says from behind me, “What’s so interesting out there, Brainless?”

“Geez Jo!” I jump at her voice, and take a big breath to calm down. “Not much. Unless you count that teacher, Madge, who was flirting with Peeta, but now seems to have turned her attention full on to Gale.” I tell her, a bit of conspiracy in my tone.

“Oh really? Do tell?” Jo does love to have her own bit of gossip, especially when it involves instructors and clients. “She’s just his type too,” she says knowingly. “Look at him smile at her. I smell a bit of a romance blooming!”

We share a laugh at Gale’s expense, knowing full well that the look on Gale’s face means exactly what Jo is insinuating. He loves the attention he’s getting from Ms. Undersee as much as Ms. Undersee loves giving it.

It comes as no surprise then, that as the kids are getting back on the bus after their final lesson, I spy Gale tapping what I assume is his number into Madge’s phone. It does come as a surprise when I see Peeta laughing at Gale as the bus pulls away and they begin to make their way to the lodge. Gale good naturedly punches Peeta in the arm. When did these two become such good friends? A lot seems to have happened since I was off. Should I be worried? Somehow I think I should.

“Katniss!” Gale bellows, coming into the snack bar. “It’s good to see you up and about! Care for a race later on today?”

I look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Oh, now you’re backing off,” he taunts. “How many times have you told me you could beat me skiing down the mountain, even if you had a broken leg? Now’s your chance to test that theory!”

Gale seems too happy. He and that Madge lady are definitely getting together. “Oh, I’d do it, but you’d lose and then you’d go home crying to your mommy. She’d call up my mom for picking on you, and then I’d get in trouble for skiing on this knee,” I tell him with a grin. “Or would you call up Ms. Undersee to complain instead?”

That gets him. He narrows his eyes at me and scowls, “Who told you?”

“Uh, uh, uh! A girl never reveals her sources. But tell me Gale, was Peeta jealous? Because she was flirting awfully hard with him until YOU came along!” I laugh.

“Hey Everdeen! Leave me out of this!” Peeta calls, stomping into the lodge and making his way to the snack counter. “I don’t know what you said, but I heard my name, and I know from that tone of voice it wasn’t anything good!”

The lodge patrons are taking in all of this good natured ribbing and I can see their smiles. It’s then I realize that people enjoy seeing and being a part of a team that genuinely like each other. I guess it really is contagious.

“Ms. Everdeen!” I look down to see Maggie, one of the younger children I taught before my accident. “May I have another hot chocolate? Here’s the money for it!”

“Sure, Miss Maggie,” I smile.

As I prepare her drink, she says, “I can’t wait until you’re back teaching skiing again. You were my favorite instructor! You never made me do the hard stuff until I was ready!”

I’m not sure how to respond to this. I look to Peeta, who is watching the entire exchange. He just smiles at me. The young girl’s mother comes up behind her and says, “We do miss you Katniss. You are the only instructor Maggie talks about,” and she hands me a $20 bill. “Keep the change, Katniss. You deserve it.” And she and Maggie walk away, leaving me with my mouth open.

“Better close your mouth before the flies get in,” Jo says to me. Then she heads back into the office, laughing all the way.

The days go by, and it seems like no time has passed when I have my three week follow-up appointment. Peeta offers to take me in, since my mother now has full-time work at the clinic. “I would take the time off,” she says, but Peeta interrupts her.

“It’s no problem for me, Mrs. Everdeen. I already have the day off, and Katniss and I would be spending it together anyway.”

Which is true. We do seem to spend everyday together. And most evenings too.

My mother concedes, and after Peeta goes home that night she makes sure to stop in my room. “Katniss, I really like that boy. I hope you do too, because I would hate to see both of you so heartbroken again.”

“I do like him, Mom,” I say with a shy smile. I don’t know if I’ve ever talked boys with my mother. I think I should feel awkward, but I am glad to have a chance to talk this whole thing through with someone. “But we’re just friends right now. We’re working on making our friendship stronger.”

“That’s good dear, but I can tell by the way he looks at you that he thinks of you as much more than that.” I blush at this, but don’t interrupt her. “Don’t waste your life waiting for me and Prim, OK? Take a chance on love. I may not be the best example, but it really is worth it. I wouldn’t trade the years I had with your father for anything. Please think about this,” she advises me. And I do.

I fall asleep to thoughts of Peeta - not Peeta my friend, but Peeta my lover. I have pushed these types of ideas out of my mind for three years. Now, I am openly inviting them in again. And just like that, it hits me. I love Peeta Mellark. I love him. He’s coming to pick me up to take me to the doctor tomorrow, and I am pretty sure the doctor is going to give me a clean bill of health. Which means I can drive my own car again. I won’t be as shut in as I was. Peeta won’t need to stop by and see me anymore. He won’t have an excuse. I’ll be driving myself to and from Mt. Mockingjay every day.

So what do I do? Do I take that risk to tell Peeta my feelings? Or do I hold them in, hoping he speaks first? What if my mother is wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me? Or what if he does, but thinks I don’t, so he stops coming by or stopping to see me? Do I tell him or not? What do I do?

[gamesmakers]

Back To Back

I’ll spend all my time with my friends anyway, so there’s really no point. The only thing having a date will change is how many pictures my mom wants to take before she lets me out the door. Expecting a woman to be escorted by a man – okay, boy, there’s nobody in my grade I’d call a man – is sexist and heteronormative. My happiness isn’t dependent on whether some guy I’ll never see again wants to go to a dance with me. I’ll probably be making my final decision on whether or not to go to prom the afternoon of, and it’s not fair to keep a guy waiting like that.

All reasonable excuses. True, none of them will convince Glimmer Hodge I’m not a loser, but neither has anything else I’ve done in our fifteen-year acquaintance. Naturally, like any other reasonable person, I take a second to weigh my options, select the best reason from my list, and present it -

“I’ve got a date,” I blurt out.

Glimmer’s caught off guard – score! – but she collects herself almost instantly, giving me her signature icy smile. “I’m glad. Pity dates are just the sweetest, aren’t they?”

“You’d be the expert in that field.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cinna’s mouth fall open before he covers the expression with a napkin.

“Marvel and I will see you there.” Like the mean popular girl from every 2000s high school movie, Glimmer has the turn/hair flip combo down.

“Sounds great, Glims!” I call after her. The nickname, which she had pushed everyone to use for about three weeks in eighth grade before she realized how eye-rollingly awful it sounds, must tick her off, but she makes no indication of it. Credit where credit is due - the girl’s good at what she does.

It takes about ten seconds for my bravado to disappear. My posture leaves with it, and I melt into a puddle on the table. It smells like cleaner, which though not pleasant is way better than anything else you’re likely to find in a high school cafeteria. That’s when the reality of the situation hits me. “I need a date.”

“You think?” Cinna pokes me in the back. “Sit up. Lunch period’s almost over.”

I obey, and he presses half of his cucumber sandwich into my hands. Rye bread. Gross. I take a bite anyway, forcing myself to swallow. “I really need a date.”

His brown eyes are full of pity. “Come over to my house after school. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”

“Let me get this straight. You don’t have a date, you don’t have a dress, and you haven’t applied for the reduced-lunch tickets.” That sounds pretty bad when Jo puts it that way, but I nod. “And you need all of this fixed by Saturday night.” Another nod. “Shit, Everdeen.”

“Maybe Gale would be willing to take you?” Annie suggests. I’m still not sure why she and Jo are here. When Cinna told me to come over, I wasn’t expecting a freaking council meeting. Still, she’s the only one who’s put forward anything constructive so far.

I shake my head. “It took a month for him to shut up about how dumb his prom was. You think I can drag him to ours?”

Because she can never stay out of a conversation for more than two seconds, Jo butts in. “The two of you have been friends since forever. It stands to reason you would have some dirt to blackmail him with.”

The idea of me having any blackmail-worthy material on Gale is laughable. I’ve never seen Gale do anything more illegal than buy a bag of dry ice a week before his eighteenth birthday, and anything more personal is out of the question. We’re friends, and we went on a couple of awkward dates two summers ago right before he left for college, but soul-baring has never been our thing. “Anyway, MIT’s four hours away,” I add before Jo can come up with any more super-helpful suggestions. “He can’t exactly do that on a week’s notice.”

“Five days, actually.” Trust Cinna to be the details guy. He purses his lips while he thinks, then reaches for my backpack. He’s going to be disappointed when he realizes I’m out of the Orbit gum he likes.

I turn back to Jo and Annie. “Ideas?”

“Maybe Finnick could hook you up with one of his friends from the swim team,” Annie suggests.

“Maybe Finnick could hook me up with one of his teammates,” Cinna says. He looks up from my phone. I definitely never gave him the passcode to get into it, but now seems a little late to complain. “I went to the meet last week, and, well, I used to think the high school swimmers were hot, but after seeing the college boys…”

“I could just not go.”

To my surprise, it’s Jo who shoots that idea down. “And admit you were shitting Glimmer? Yeah, Everdeen, that’s a great idea.”

“I could pretend I was sick. I don’t have a dress anyway.” Even to my own ears, it sounds like a sorry excuse. It’s still not as sad as asking a friend of a friend that I’ve never met to take me to prom.

“Did you know that Katniss is Facebook friends with Baker Boy?” My heart stops at Cinna’s words. It’s not exactly surprising that he recognizes Peeta – Knead You to Loaf Me, which his family runs, has had a devoted, cult-like following in the area for twenty years – but I’ve made sure never to mention the youngest Mellark boy around him.

“We lived across the street when we were kids.” The excuse falls on deaf ears. Annie’s already leaning over me, craning her neck for a better look at my phone.

“Ask him,” she orders. When Annie’s set on something, she doesn’t do requests.

“I don’t think so.”

“Got a good reason why you shouldn’t?” She gives me maybe two seconds to come up with another excuse before she snatched the phone out of my hands. I can’t see what she’s typing, and I’m not sure I want to.

The phone buzzes almost the instant she sets it back down. “Huh.” Annie grins as she types something back. “Never would’ve thought Baker Boy as desperate as Katniss.”

“That’s ‘cause no one’s as desperate as Katniss,” Jo cuts in. She scurries away, laughing at her own joke, before I can kick her.

“It’s all yours from here.” Annie passes me back my phone. “But no worming your way out of this one, or I’ll hunt you down.”

“And her mom’s going to be pissed if she wrecks her dress doing it,” Cinna adds. He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “It’ll be fun, Katniss. Don’t worry about it.”

[katnissmellarkkk]

Alrightttt, I’m on a roll so we’re going onto chappy five 🥳🥳🥳😎😎

I know the movies made the Capitol — re: basically only Effie and maybe Caesar — have those ridiculous made up accents but .... I actually feel like the description of the Capitol accent in the book is supposed to be like the Kardashians or Paris Hilton’s voice. 🤷🏼‍♀️

“Why do these people speak in such a high pitch? Why do their jaws barely open when they talk? Why do the ends of their sentences go up as if they're asking a question? Odd vowels, clipped words, and always a hiss on the letter s. no wonder it's impossible not to mimic them.” Like this is a pretty good description of how Kim Kardashian and her sisters talk. And Suzzy C did say she was inspired by the juxtaposition between war news footage and ridiculous reality television shows so... I think my theory of the Capitol all talking like they’re on the Real Housewives of LA is pretty valid.

Just imagine Paris Hilton as Effie and Nicole Richie as one of her preps

Lolololol this whole section of waxing is reminding me to go get my legs waxed 😭😭😭 straight up calling me out here, Suzanne

I like how Katniss says her stylist “apparently has no interest in seeing her until the prep team has addressed obvious problems.” Like you can tell from her narration she was expecting to feel the same was about Cinna that she does about Effie and her prep team.

The “gritty loam that takes off dirt and three layers of skin” is probably just a strong exfoliator 😭😭😭 my girl knows nothing about quality skincare 🤧🤧 someone build a Panem Sephora

She mentioned them waxing her underarms.... girl, did you have hairy armpits before this? Idk why this revelation is new to me

“Grease her down!” Just sounds wrong 😅😅😅😅 I need to stop being annoying omg I’m like a twelve year old

Hmm it’s funny to me that Katniss refers to Octavia as plump. You’d think in a place like the Capitol body image and weight would be very important. Unless it’s like back in the old, old days when being overweight was a sign of wealth. Which would make more sense so this was an unnecessary thought process curtesy of Samantha

Katniss faking a smile and thanking her prep team shows she does know how to play the game and fake it better than she says.

So ... okay, hear me out, I’m not trying to get over the top or make this into something it’s not but ... the whole stylists / Cinna coming into the room and staring at her naked is a little weird. Especially considering Cinna isn’t Lenny Kravitz who’s like a bit older than her but actually like a twenty-something year old dude.

But okay, here’s the thing I was getting at ... Cinna’s one of the best people in this series and you can’t deny that. Even if you find him boring, he’s still one of Katniss’ closest people. Also he’s probably gay. But like ... what about the other stylists? I don’t wanna be that person who makes everything more than it is, but like, this scene just sounds like a perfect opportunity for some Capitol creep to assault a teenager idk I’m probably making a mountain out of a molehill just ignore Samantha okay.

That’s nice that he complimented her mama though 🥰🥰🥰

So Katniss calls District Twelve the least desirable district but ... doesn’t District Eleven suck too? Like she also later says District Twelve is the smallest and the poorest but doesn’t she also say Rue is worse off than her and Prim? Make up your mind, Suz.

Cinna claims he asked for District Twelve but did he really get an option? 😅 If it’s his first year and Katniss claims the newbies get them anyway 🤷🏼‍♀️ Samantha is once again, reading too much into this.

Awww, Katniss is thinking about how long it would take for her to assemble this fancy meal at home 🤧🤧🤧 it would take her days and the Capitol just has the necessary resources at their disposal and they just takes it for granted. And yes, I’m aware this is supposed to be calling all us readers out who take so much for granted I know. We’re the Capitol.

“How would I spend the hours I now commit to combing the woods for sustenance if it were so easy to come by?” It’s honestly so sad but so vital to her character that Katniss has zero hobbies or real free time. Her life is about surviving. She doesn’t get to live or enjoy very much of her time. She dedicates everything to keeping Prim — and her mother — alive, sacrificing everything a teenage girl should be doing. Sacrificing even the things the other girls in her world get to do. She mentions the merchant girls and the Seam girls who are more experienced romantically and sexually and socially than her. Because she doesn’t get to be a kid or innocent or even happy, in order to focus on her and her family’s survival. And the things she does enjoy, like spending time with Gale or dancing with Prim (mentioned in Mockingjay) she downplays in case they’re taken away, because nothing good is secure in her eyes. 🥺🥺🥺

Okay but what did Katniss’ facial expression give away that Cinna knew exactly what she was thinking? Or is she just less emotionless than she and Haymitch both claim? Ironically I think they’re the only people who call her emotionless which can easily be chalked up to their self-hate and terrible self-esteems.

Katniss is so afraid they’re gonna make her be naked for the parade 😭. Honestly though they’re children that’s so creepy that they’re even allowed to make 15/16/17 year olds be naked in a parade. I mean I know they kill kids every year but isn’t there like child pornography laws in Panem? 😭

“You’re not afraid of fire, are you, Katniss?” Is so foreshadowing 😭😂😅😎 Caesar Flickerman’s voice “Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Honestly though Cinna is smart to make Katniss recognizable in the arena by leaving her with simple makeup. I know and the sky is blue we all know this already beating the dead horses until the farmer comes home.

“It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.” It’s true though 😅😅😅😭😭 he was always a rebel. I actually think he may have asked for District Twelve after Katniss volunteered, because he saw the potential in her. Poor Peeta. Baby, I’m rooting you for even if no one else is.

Also I always found it a bit .... curious? That Peeta had a female stylist and Katniss had a male one? Not just because of the required nudity, you’d just think men would do better as a boy’s stylist and a woman would make a better girl’s stylist. So yes, my whole Cinna was interested in District Twelve because Katniss seemed like a good symbol for a rebellion idea seems very plausible.

I know I know I know I read wayyy too much into this stuff sometimes a cigarette 🚬 is just a cigarette 🚬

Katniss being relieved when Peeta shows up 😭😭😭 because even if she won’t admit it and even if she won’t let herself trust him, she still sees him unconsciously and completely against her will as a comfort because they’re in this thing together in a way, even if they’re supposed to try and kill each other

And honestly, it’s such a like... relatable feeling? To feel alone and nervous and uptight and then someone who you recognize — even if you maybe aren’t even friends with but you at least know — shows up and you just instantly feel less alone. I’m totally looking at this through shipper goggles and I’m not even ashamed you all knew who’s blogging you were reading ight? 😂🤣🤷🏼‍♀️

“He should know about fire, being a baker's son and all.” And he’s gonna learn a lot more about it when he falls in love — for real, falls in love, not a childhood infatuation — with the girl on fire. 🥰🥰🥰

But also, I love this particular line on a reread because it totally is an indicator towards their future. Like Peeta knows about fire, he’s experienced with how to handle it, and later on, he becomes the only person who truly comes to understand Katniss, who represents fire, in a way that no one else could ever imagine.

Hmmm, Katniss’ point of view here, talking about how Portia and Peeta’s team seem all giddy and air-headed and it’s only Cinna who seems reserved makes me rethink my previous imaginings of Peeta’s stylist. Maybe she’s just a Capitolite idiot and nothing like Cinna. And my baby got a raw deal here then too. Good thing Haymitch loves him more. Just kidding 😅😅😅

But also I wanna know why Cinna is hesitant to accept congratulations for his and Portia’s idea? Wasn’t he at least lowkey excited about it when he pitched it a page ago?

Their horses are coal black 🐴 😅. I like that they went the whole nine yards with the theme. Nothing but the best for the kids on Death Row.

Aww Katniss asking Peeta what he thinks about being set on fire is so sweet and pure for some reason. I just find their commodore here cute ok

“I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine” this is literally their first friend type of interaction and it’s so pure y’all leave me be I’m emotional for them

🙃 Also lowkey reminds me of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Everyone look away ok I’m sorry

Peeta’s shady/annoyed Haymitch comment and Katniss’ joke at his expense 🤣🤣😂🤣😂😂🥲🥲☺️🥲🥲 they’re bonding it’s so presh

“And suddenly we're both laughing.” I hope they laugh a lot together post-canon 🥲🥲🥲. If they can make the other laugh during their terrible circumstances, then they can make the other laugh anywhere. 🤧 Except in Thirteen because he’s hijacked and she’s certifiable and they’re both so used and abused and 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I have to say, Suzanne Collins really builds up a lot for certain events and then just like grazes over the actual action of said event? Like she builds towards the tribute parade but then kind of rushes through off the actual event itself? It’s a common theme in her writing. And I don’t like it at all ngl.

Oh wait she doesn’t actually rush the parade events the paragraph before just looked like she was about to I jumped the gun 🤣😂🤭 but what I said is still completely true for many events in these books sorry not sorry

I’m definitely reading too much into it but the fact that District One — the favorite of the Capitol — gets snow white horses and District Twelve gets coal black horsies kind of ... seems to imply something .... 🤭

Cinna just lets out a sigh of relief “it worked” like ... way to fill your tributes with hope, dude. “Yeah, you’re totally safe, don’t be scared-OH THANK GOD THAT WORKED I wasn’t actually sure you wouldn’t blow up.” But actually this answers my previous inquiry about why he seemed hesitant I guess he wasn’t even sure this wouldn’t burn them up that’s nice 🤭🙃

It’s a literal trial by fire *cue drum hit* 🥁 aww, I just cracked myself up 😭

“Then he gently tucks a hand under my chin. "Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!" This is caught halfway between being very Capitol-y and very father-brotherly and idk which way to take it but it’s kind of cute 🤭

“For the first time, I look at him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.” This is such a significant line because Katniss isn’t saying Peeta is technically good looking (like when Haymitch said they were decently attractive) or someone else thinks he’s good looking (i.e Gale, her mother and lowkey Finnick) but she’s saying she herself thinks he’s attractive. Girl, your crush is showing.

"I think he said for us to hold hands," says Peeta.” I’m sure Cinna actually did say that but this just seems like a very good opportunity for Peeta to hold the hand of the girl he has a massive crush on. 😭😭😭

Okay Cinna gave a thumbs up so he actually was saying that but can you imagine Peeta’s excitement right now?

I mean, yeahhhh, there’s the certain death looming over him too but like live in the moment, babe. 🥰😘🤗👌🏻

I like that Katniss says the crowd is at first like 😳😳😳 before they start cheering like they’re thinking “what are these backwoods, hillbilly kids doing this year?”

“At first, I'm frozen, but then I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking we look. In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces” okay they both have to be pretty naturally attractive people objectively, because you illuminate my face without much makeup and no one is gonna be cheering.

“Remember, heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you! I hear Cinna's voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand.” I wonder what the true difference is for Katniss between Cinna and Effie saying this to her? Maybe it’s that Effie is just outright mean to her sometimes whereas Cinna shows her nothing but kindness from the start and expresses sympathy and understanding? It’s probably that he’s already earning her trust versus Effie who’s just cruel I’m not over her comments on the train ok

“I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.” Right from the start, Katniss refers to Peeta as solid and steady. Idk, I feel like this is something that the movies really misses along the way. Katniss wasn’t always strong or confident at all and Peeta, at least publicly, exuded those qualities pretty well. Samantha’s complaining again ™️ 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

Also this is just outright foreshadowing how Peeta will eventually become her rock. Or that he will be soon painted a rock ... pick and choose which way you wanna go with this. 🤷🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️😅🤣

“As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few kisses to the crowd.” Okay, see I feel like Peeta really gives Katniss confidence in herself. If he’d been there in District Thirteen and they’d done propos together, she probably would have been a thousand times better.

But also this makes me think Katniss actually has it in her to be a charismatic, confident, alluring celebrity. She just chooses not to. 🤗🤗🤗

But this also reminds me of “She has no idea the effect she can have” okay imma move on and stop focusing on every little detail

I say that every chapter 🤧😅

“The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement.” Say whatever you want, Katniss is still such a girl underneath it all. She gets excited over people liking her and cheering her on. And I know it’s because it increases her chances of getting sponsors but still

Honestly Peeta trying to showcase Katniss and let her take the spotlight is so selfless and indicative of his ultimate plan to help her win but also ... I can see how Katniss would believe it’s too good to be true and he’s messing with her. That he’s just playing the game to earn her trust, get her guard down and manipulate her later.

See, Peeta is actually framed at the start like the typical, standard YA love interest turned villain. In majority of YA books, at this point the boy is kind and sweet and helpful to the girl until she trusts him completely and then he turns on her and uses everything she gave him to destroy her. But the difference is, Katniss refuses to truly trust him and she is guessing his game incorrectly at every step. And then it’s revealed that it was never a game and he truly isn’t messing with her and everything he’s done that’s seem too good to be true and not even remotely plausible has actually been genuine and heartfelt and that, my friends, is why Peeta is above all other YA love interests. Because Everlark is actually the foil to many of the cliches. That was a long speech over some incoherent thoughts I’m so sorry if you suffered through that.

“It's not until we enter the City Circle that I realize I must have completely stopped the circulation in Peeta's hand. That's how tightly I've been holding it.” Awww he is her rock 😭🤧🥺

"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please. I might fall out of this thing." Okay this part is so cute and so blatantly setting Peeta up as her main love interest omg 😅 this isn’t the least bit subtle or disguised. But first off, the fact that Katniss is also Peeta’s stability here too 😭😭😭 and second of all, she takes time to notice his blue eyes against the firelight? She was attracted to him from the very start, y’all. That’s indisputable. 👌🏻😎🤧

“It's not really fair to present us as a team and then lock us into the arena to kill each other.” I agree with you, baby, it’s not fair at all. But you two take care of that situation nicely. Or not. Y’all do start a dang war. 🤭🤭🙃🙃

It’s rather ... ironic that it’s District Twelve’s chariot of them all that is pulled up and stopped directly in front of President Snow’s mansion. I know it’s a book, certain details like this are definitively contrived, I know get over it. 🤦🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

So uh. Snow is a small thin man? Why do I suddenly imagine Danny Devito as Snow 😅😅😅😅🤣🤣🤣🤣 y’all know he’d kill the role

“The darker it becomes, the more difficult it is to take your eyes off our flickering.” Okay, this is such a great line and it’s so significant to the rest of the series? The fact that Katniss — and Peeta, let’s not forget our boy — became symbols of the revolution. Like this line is deep if you think about it. The worse things in Panem got, the more the civilians looked towards Katniss and Peeta for hope 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰🥰

Omg now after Songbirds and Snakes, we know the national anthem. I’m sorry, babies, that you have to endure that I’ll get you out of there 🙉🙉🙉

I feel like in part, the Capitol camera crew — Cressida, Pollux .... Pollux’s brother... is that you here???? — put so much attention on District Twelve because it would create some resentment and competition between them and the careers 🤭🤗

“I notice a lot of the other tributes are shooting us dirty looks, which confirms what I've suspected, we've literally outshone them all.” Insert Gretchen Wieners “I can’t help that I’m popular!” 😅😅😅😅😅

“I realize I'm still glued to Peeta and force my stiff fingers to open. We both massage our hands.” — they were hanging on so tight 😭😭😭😭

“Thanks for keeping hold of me.” He’s so sweet ☺️☺️☺️ I love him even if he’s kind of an idiot sometimes but so is Katniss so let’s not point fingers

“I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. [...] And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness” Omg I know Katniss views this as him trying to manipulate her but the fact that he’s actually just admitting the way he’s felt for years is so 😭😭😭😭 if only you’d spit it out sooner, Bready

“he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me.” She literally has a crush on her fellow tribute and her first line of defense is to decide he out to get her for making her feel this way 🤣😭🙃

“The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.” The more my crush grows, the more deadly he becomes. I know I’m reading this with shipper goggles but guess what? I’m unashamed. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️🤷🏼‍♀️ who feels guilty for reading this book with an Everlark bias not this girl right here 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.” Okay first off, she says cheek here but according to a chapter ago, she claimed the mark was on his jaw... so in other words, she’s incredibly short. If a medium height guy has a bruise on his jaw and she has to stand on her tip toe to reach it... well... hashtag LittleKatniss

And second off.... can you even imagine how Peeta must feel. He genuinely complimented her here, the girl he has had a crush on forever, and she responds by kissing his cheek. He was probably really happy at this moment. And also this probably played further into his buying into her false display in the arena. That here we have her clutching his hand, smiling and laughing with him and kissing his cheek. Idk what I was trying to say necessarily but I made myself sad wow way to go me 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧

Anyways! Those are my very over the top and too detailed thoughts! Hope you enjoyed if you read this! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳😎😎😎😎😎😎😎🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[readbookywooks]

8 Boggs appears and gets a firm lock on my arm, but I'm not planning on running now. I look over at the hospital - just in time to see the rest of the structure give way - and the fight goes out of me. All those people, the hundreds of wounded, the relatives, the medics from 13, are no more. I turn back to Boggs, see the swelling on his face left by Gale's boot. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure his nose is broken. His voice is more resigned than angry, though. "Back to the landing strip." I obediently take a step forward and wince as I become aware of the pain behind my right knee. The adrenaline rush that overrode the sensation has passed and my body parts join in a chorus of complaints. I'm banged up and bloody and someone seems to be hammering on my left temple from inside my skull. Boggs quickly examines my face, then scoops me up and jogs for the runway. Halfway there, I puke on his bulletproof vest. It's hard to tell because he's short of breath, but I think he sighs. A small hovercraft, different from the one that transported us here, waits on the runway. The second my team's on board, we take off. No comfy seats and windows this time. We seem to be in some sort of cargo craft. Boggs does emergency first aid on people to hold them until we get back to 13. I want to take off my vest, since I got a fair amount of vomit on it as well, but it's too cold to think about it. I lie on the floor with my head in Gale's lap. The last thing I remember is Boggs spreading a couple of burlap sacks over me. When I wake up, I'm warm and patched up in my old bed in the hospital. My mother's there, checking my vital signs. "How do you feel?" "A little beat-up, but all right," I say. "No one even told us you were going until you were gone," she says. I feel a pang of guilt. When your family's had to send you off twice to the Hunger Games, this isn't the kind of detail you should overlook. "I'm sorry. They weren't expecting the attack. I was just supposed to be visiting the patients," I explain. "Next time, I'll have them clear it with you." "Katniss, no one clears anything with me," she says. It's true. Even I don't. Not since my father died. Why pretend? "Well, I'll have them...notify you anyway." On the bedside table is a piece of shrapnel they removed from my leg. The doctors are more concerned with the damage my brain might have suffered from the explosions, since my concussion hadn't fully healed to begin with. But I don't have double vision or anything and I can think clearly enough. I've slept right through the late afternoon and night, and I'm starving. My breakfast is disappointingly small. Just a few cubes of bread soaking in warm milk. I've been called down to an early morning meeting at Command. I start to get up and then realize they plan to roll my hospital bed directly there. I want to walk, but that's out, so I negotiate my way into a wheelchair. I feel fine, really. Except for my head, and my leg, and the soreness from the bruises, and the nausea that hit a couple minutes after I ate. Maybe the wheelchair's a good idea. As they wheel me down, I begin to get uneasy about what I will face. Gale and I directly disobeyed orders yesterday, and Boggs has the injury to prove it. Surely, there will be repercussions, but will they go so far as Coin annulling our agreement for the victors' immunity? Have I stripped Peeta of what little protection I could give him? When I get to Command, the only ones who've arrived are Cressida, Messalla, and the insects. Messalla beams and says, "There's our little star!" and the others are smiling so genuinely that I can't help but smile in return. They impressed me in 8, following me onto the roof during the bombing, making Plutarch back off so they could get the footage they wanted. They more than do their work, they take pride in it. Like Cinna. I have a strange thought that if we were in the arena together, I would pick them as allies. Cressida, Messalla, and - and - "I have to stop calling you 'the insects,'" I blurt out to the cameramen. I explain how I didn't know their names, but their suits suggested the shelled creatures. The comparison doesn't seem to bother them. Even without the camera shells, they strongly resemble each other. Same sandy hair, red beards, and blue eyes. The one with close-bitten nails introduces himself as Castor and the other, who's his brother, as Pollux. I wait for Pollux to say hello, but he just nods. At first I think he's shy or a man of few words. But something tugs on me - the position of his lips, the extra effort he takes to swallow - and I know before Castor tells me. Pollux is an Avox. They have cut out his tongue and he will never speak again. And I no longer have to wonder what made him risk everything to help bring down the Capitol. As the room fills, I brace myself for a less congenial reception. But the only people who register any kind of negativity are Haymitch, who's always out of sorts, and a sour-faced Fulvia Cardew. Boggs wears a flesh-colored plastic mask from his upper lip to his brow - I was right about the broken nose - so his expression's hard to read. Coin and Gale are in the midst of some exchange that seems positively chummy. When Gale slides into the seat next to my wheelchair, I say, "Making new friends?" His eyes flicker to the president and back. "Well, one of us has to be accessible." He touches my temple gently. "How do you feel?" They must have served stewed garlic and squash for the breakfast vegetable. The more people who gather, the stronger the fumes are. My stomach turns and the lights suddenly seem too bright. "Kind of rocky," I say. "How are you?" "Fine. They dug out a couple of pieces of shrapnel. No big deal," he says. Coin calls the meeting to order. "Our Airtime Assault has officially launched. For any of you who missed yesterday's twenty-hundred broadcast of our first propo - or the seventeen reruns Beetee has managed to air since - we will begin by replaying it." Replaying it? So they not only got usable footage, they've already slapped together a propo and aired it repeatedly. My palms grow moist in anticipation of seeing myself on television. What if I'm still awful? What if I'm as stiff and pointless as I was in the studio and they've just given up on getting anything better? Individual screens slide up from the table, the lights dim slightly, and a hush falls over the room. At first, my screen is black. Then a tiny spark flickers in the center. It blossoms, spreads, silently eating up the blackness until the entire frame is ablaze with a fire so real and intense, I imagine I feel the heat emanating from it. The image of my mockingjay pin emerges, glowing red-gold. The deep, resonant voice that haunts my dreams begins to speak. Claudius Templesmith, the official announcer of the Hunger Games, says, "Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, burns on." Suddenly, there I am, replacing the mockingjay, standing before the real flames and smoke of District 8. "I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That I'm right here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital full of unarmed men, women, and children. There will be no survivors." Cut to the hospital collapsing in on itself, the desperation of the onlookers as I continue in voice-over. "I want to tell people that if you think for one second the Capitol will treat us fairly if there's a cease-fire, you're deluding yourself. Because you know who they are and what they do." Back to me now, my hands lifting up to indicate the outrage around me. "Thisis what they do! And we must fight back!" Now comes a truly fantastic montage of the battle. The initial bombs falling, us running, being blown to the ground - a close-up of my wound, which looks good and bloody - scaling the roof, diving into the nests, and then some amazing shots of the rebels, Gale, and mostly me, me, me knocking those planes out of the sky. Smash-cut back to me moving in on the camera. "President Snow says he's sending us a message? Well, I have one for him. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts to the ground, but do you see that?" We're with the camera, tracking to the planes burning on the roof of the warehouse. Tight on the Capitol seal on a wing, which melts back into the image of my face, shouting at the president. "Fire is catching! And if we burn, you burn with us!" Flames engulf the screen again. Superimposed on them in black, solid letters are the words: IF WE BURN YOU BURN WITH US The words catch fire and the whole screen burns to blackness. There's a moment of silent relish, then applause followed by demands to see it again. Coin indulgently hits the replay button, and this time, since I know what will happen, I try to pretend that I'm watching this on my television at home in the Seam. An anti-Capitol statement. There's never been anything like it on television. Not in my lifetime, anyway. By the time the screen burns to black a second time, I need to know more. "Did it play all over Panem? Did they see it in the Capitol?" "Not in the Capitol," says Plutarch. "We couldn't override their system, although Beetee's working on it. But in all the districts. We even got it on in Two, which may be more valuable than the Capitol at this point in the game." "Is Claudius Templesmith with us?" I ask. This gives Plutarch a good laugh. "Only his voice. But that's ours for the taking. We didn't even have to do any special editing. He said that actual line in your first Games." He slaps his hand on the table. "What say we give another round of applause to Cressida, her amazing team, and, of course, our on-camera talent!" I clap, too, until I realize I'm the on-camera talent and maybe it's obnoxious that I'm applauding for myself, but no one's paying attention. I can't help noticing the strain on Fulvia's face, though. I think how hard this must be for her, watching Haymitch's idea succeed under Cressida's direction, when Fulvia's studio approach was such a flop. Coin seems to have reached the end of her tolerance for self-congratulation. "Yes, well deserved. The result is more than we had hoped for. But I do have to question the wide margin of risk that you were willing to operate within. I know the raid was unforeseen. However, given the circumstances, I think we should discuss the decision to send Katniss into actual combat." The decision? To send me into combat? Then she doesn't know that I flagrantly disregarded orders, ripped out my earpiece, and gave my bodyguards the slip? What else have they kept from her? "It was a tough call," says Plutarch, furrowing his brow. "But the general consensus was that we weren't going to get anything worth using if we locked her in a bunker somewhere every time a gun went off." "And you're all right with that?" asks the president. Gale has to kick me under the table before I realize that she's talking to me. "Oh! Yeah, I'm completely all right with that. It felt good. Doing something for a change." "Well, let's be just a little more judicious with her exposure. Especially now that the Capitol knows what she can do," says Coin. There's a rumble of assent from around the table. No one has ratted out Gale and me. Not Plutarch, whose authority we ignored. Not Boggs with his broken nose. Not the insects we led into fire. Not Haymitch - no, wait a minute. Haymitch is giving me a deadly smile and saying sweetly, "Yeah, we wouldn't want to lose our little Mockingjay when she's finally begun to sing." I make a note to myself not to end up alone in a room with him, because he's clearly having vengeful thoughts over that stupid earpiece. "So, what else do you have planned?" asks the president. Plutarch nods to Cressida, who consults a clipboard. "We have some terrific footage of Katniss at the hospital in Eight. There should be another propo in that with the theme 'Because you know who they are and what they do.' We'll focus on Katniss interacting with the patients, particularly the children, the bombing of the hospital, and the wreckage. Messalla's cutting that together. We're also thinking about a Mockingjay piece. Highlight some of Katniss's best moments intercut with scenes of rebel uprisings and war footage. We call that one 'Fire is catching.' And then Fulvia came up with a really brilliant idea." Fulvia's mouthful-of-sour-grapes expression is startled right off her face, but she recovers. "Well, I don't know how brilliant it is, but I was thinking we could do a series of propos called We Remember. In each one, we would feature one of the dead tributes. Little Rue from Eleven or old Mags from Four. The idea being that we could target each district with a very personal piece." "A tribute to your tributes, as it were," says Plutarch. "Thatis brilliant, Fulvia," I say sincerely. "It's the perfect way to remind people why they're fighting." "I think it could work," she says. "I thought we might use Finnick to intro and narrate the spots. If there was interest in them." "Frankly, I don't see how we could have too manyWe Remember propos," says Coin. "Can you start producing them today?" "Of course," says Fulvia, obviously mollified by the response to her idea. Cressida has smoothed everything over in the creative department with her gesture. Praised Fulvia for what is, in fact, a really good idea, and cleared the way to continue her own on-air depiction of the Mockingjay. What's interesting is that Plutarch seems to have no need to share in the credit. All he wants is for the Airtime Assault to work. I remember that Plutarch is a Head Gamemaker, not a member of the crew. Not a piece in the Games. Therefore, his worth is not defined by a single element, but by the overall success of the production. If we win the war, that's when Plutarch will take his bow. And expect his reward. The president sends everyone off to get to work, so Gale wheels me back to the hospital. We laugh a little about the cover-up. Gale says no one wanted to look bad by admitting they couldn't control us. I'm kinder, saying they probably didn't want to jeopardize the chance of taking us out again now that they've gotten some decent footage. Both things are probably true. Gale has to go meet Beetee down in Special Weaponry, so I doze off. It seems like I've only shut my eyes for a few minutes, but when I open them, I flinch at the sight of Haymitch sitting a couple of feet from my bed. Waiting. Possibly for several hours if the clock is right. I think about hollering for a witness, but I'm going to have to face him sooner or later. Haymitch leans forward and dangles something on a thin white wire in front of my nose. It's hard to focus on, but I'm pretty sure what it is. He drops it to the sheets. "That is your earpiece. I will give you exactly one more chance to wear it. If you remove it from your ear again, I'll have you fitted with this." He holds up some sort of metal headgear that I instantly namethe head shackle . "It's an alternative audio unit that locks around your skull and under your chin until it's opened with a key. And I'll have the only key. If for some reason you're clever enough to disable it" - Haymitch dumps the head shackle on the bed and whips out a tiny silver chip - "I'll authorize them to surgically implant this transmitter into your ear so that I may speak to you twenty-four hours a day." Haymitch in my head full-time. Horrifying. "I'll keep the earpiece in," I mutter. "Excuse me?" he says. "I'll keep the earpiece in!" I say, loud enough to wake up half the hospital. "You sure? Because I'm equally happy with any of the three options," he tells me. "I'm sure," I say. I scrunch up the earpiece wire protectively in my fist and fling the head shackle back in his face with my free hand, but he catches it easily. Probably was expecting me to throw it. "Anything else?" Haymitch rises to go. "While I was waiting...I ate your lunch." My eyes take in the empty stew bowl and tray on my bed table. "I'm going to report you," I mumble into my pillow. "You do that, sweetheart." He goes out, safe in the knowledge that I'm not the reporting kind. I want to go back to sleep, but I'm restless. Images from yesterday begin to flood into the present. The bombing, the fiery plane crashes, the faces of the wounded who no longer exist. I imagine death from all sides. The last moment before seeing a shell hit the ground, feeling the wing blown from my plane and the dizzying nosedive into oblivion, the warehouse roof falling down at me while I'm pinned helplessly to my cot. Things I saw, in person or on the tape. Things I caused with a pull of my bowstring. Things I will never be able to erase from my memory. At dinner, Finnick brings his tray to my bed so we can watch the newest propo together on television. He was assigned quarters on my old floor, but he has so many mental relapses, he still basically lives in the hospital. The rebels air the "Because you know who they are and what they do" propo that Messalla edited. The footage is intercut with short studio clips of Gale, Boggs, and Cressida describing the incident. It's hard to watch my reception in the hospital in 8 since I know what's coming. When the bombs rain down on the roof, I bury my face in my pillow, looking up again at a brief clip of me at the end, after all the victims are dead. At least Finnick doesn't applaud or act all happy when it's done. He just says, "People should know that happened. And now they do." "Let's turn it off, Finnick, before they run it again," I urge him. But as Finnick's hand moves toward the remote control, I cry, "Wait!" The Capitol is introducing a special segment and something about it looks familiar. Yes, it's Caesar Flickerman. And I can guess who his guest will be. Peeta's physical transformation shocks me. The healthy, clear-eyed boy I saw a few days ago has lost at least fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in his hands. They've still got him groomed. But underneath the paint that cannot cover the bags under his eyes, and the fine clothes that cannot conceal the pain he feels when he moves, is a person badly damaged. My mind reels, trying to make sense of it. I just saw him! Four - no, five - I think it was five days ago. How has he deteriorated so rapidly? What could they possibly have done to him in such a short time? Then it hits me. I replay in my mind as much as I can of his first interview with Caesar, searching for anything that would place it in time. There is nothing. They could have taped that interview a day or two after I blew up the arena, then done whatever they wanted to do to him ever since. "Oh, Peeta..." I whisper. Caesar and Peeta have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks him about rumors that I'm taping propos for the districts. "They're using her, obviously," says Peeta. "To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake." "Is there anything you'd like to tell her?" asks Caesar. "There is," says Peeta. He looks directly into the camera, right into my eyes. "Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out." Black screen. Seal of Panem. Show over. Finnick presses the button on the remote that kills the power. In a minute, people will be here to do damage control on Peeta's condition and the words that came out of his mouth. I will need to repudiate them. But the truth is, I don't trust the rebels or Plutarch or Coin. I'm not confident that they tell me the truth. I won't be able to conceal this. Footsteps are approaching. Finnick grips me hard by the arms. "We didn't see it." "What?" I ask. "We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight. Then we turned the set off because the images upset you. Got it?" he asks. I nod. "Finish your dinner." I pull myself together enough so that when Plutarch and Fulvia enter, I have a mouthful of bread and cabbage. Finnick is talking about how well Gale came across on camera. We congratulate them on the propo. Make it clear it was so powerful, we tuned out right afterward. They look relieved. They believe us. No one mentions Peeta.

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okayyyy chappy seven 🤩 Here we goooo 🥳

Lord, Katniss always had nightmares 😭 even before the games, between her father’s death, her mother’s abandonment and the other traumatizing things she saw in her life, my girl never slept peacefully a day in her life 🥺.

She even indicates that she sometimes has nightmares about past hunger games 😭😭😭. Someone protect my smol child. Please. Someone.... Someone? Anyone? No? Okay 🥺

“I bolt up screaming for my father to run as the mine explodes into a million deadly bits of light.” This is such a powerful image and it really does show that Katniss has literally envisioned all the gory details of her father’s death for the last four years. This is so sad 😞

Also though. Katniss really doesn’t talk much about her father’s death after the first book and definitely doesn’t describe nightmares about it. So .... like basically, the games traumatized her so badly that, her father failing to escape the mines as the collapsed in on him, crushing him into the pits of despair, the possibility of rescuing his corpse deemed unimaginable, pales in comparison? Yes I just tried and failed to phrase that long run on sentence the way Katniss phrases her nightmares about her dad dying, yes that was over the top but you know what? So. Is. Katniss.

“Dawn is breaking through the windows” Twilight reference 😬😬😬. I couldn’t stop myself, y’all. Forgive for please.

“The Capitol has a misty, haunted air.” Katniss, you’re from the butthole of Kentucky, the air you’re used to is probably humid as all get out 😓😓💦😅😅

“I must have bitten into the side of my cheek in the night. My tongue probes the ragged flesh and I taste blood.” 😒😒😒😒 this feeling ..... is .... v v v .... distinct .... and .... familiar 😕🙁☹️

“I end up hopping from foot to foot as alternating jets of icy cold and steaming hot water assault me.” Why is this so funny omg 😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂😂😅😅😅😅😅 Katniss is just like pressing buttons like, “Ah! Too cold! 🥶 Ah! Too hot! 🥵 Ah!!!!!” All while jumping like a .... cat 🐱🥁

Lemon foam? 🍋 Whatever. I guess there’s weirder flavors of soap we have today but like where’s the Philosophy flavors that give recipes on the bottles??? Surely they’d survive an apocalypse??? Everyone uses those???

I’m so glad Katniss didn’t forget to moisturize, even as she prepares for a death match 😅😅😅😅 even if it’s just as simple as pressing a single button, why is she even taking the time to press it?

I know, I know. She just wants to make sure her skin is so smooth for the arena that the knives and arrows just slide right off 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“This is the first time since the morning of the reaping that I resemble myself.” Lolololol which means Mr. Romantic is gonna be even more turned on by the sight of ya, since he’s crushed on you looking like this for the last decade of his life 🥳😎🤗💁🏼‍♀️. Peeta ain’t even here yet and I’m already making the shipper comments Samantha calm down 🙄😶😑🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐

Seriously there where is Peeta? Did he also have to figure out the temperature controls in the shower? Did he also moisturize? I miss him I wanna know about his morning too 😔. Katty, is it too much to ask for you to go take a lil ... sneak peek into his room for me? 😏😏😏

Twenty dishes seems like a lot for like four people eating? Eh, maybe six people, if we count the stylists who magically pick and choose when they’re coming to a meal... Hmm, I’ll calculate just so no one else has to. 🤓😬🤗 No one else cares, Samantha. 🤐🥱😴😶 Twenty dishes amounts out to about five plates without the stylists and three and a half-ish with so.... idk it’s not that much food I guess but it seems like a lot for one meal, esp if people in the Capitol intend to keep their trim figures. This is why that one prep team girl is chubby. 🤐🤐🤐

Awww Katniss copying Peeta’s weird lil eating quirks 🤗😎🥳. She’s already taking interest in him, she just don’t realize it yet 💁🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ shipper comment alert 🚨🚨

But also has anyone actually tried dipping bread on hot chocolate and was it good or does it taste as repulsive as it sounds to me? I hate it when my food even so much as dares to touch though 🤢😡😤😓

Oooo I always forget Prim has to be utilizing her goat, milking the thing every day until it’s dry I’m not a farmer idk how milking animals works ... so she contributes more than I give her credit I suppose.... I’m making an effort for you, Primmers. You seem useless and immature but I’m trying. 😪😶 Taylor Swift voice 🎶 *this is me trying* 🎶

Oh wow it was only two mornings ago? Man. The first book is slow moving. 😅😭 six chapters in and we’ve gotten through one point five days 🤣

“It makes me irritated that Peeta is wearing exactly the same outfit I am.” “Listen, Peeta, one of us has to change, this is getting embarrassing, you have to stop borrowing my clothes!”

“This twins act is going to blow up in out faces once the Games begin.” Ahhaahahahaha blow up 💥 💣 🔥. Get it, get it. 🥁 Because she represents fire. And she also blows things up in Every. Single. Book.

But seriously, did Cinna and Portia and Haymitch all plan on presenting Katniss and Peeta are like, tight friends or whatever, and then Peeta is like “oh b-tee-dubs, I have a massive crush on K-dog” and they just decided it perfectly fit into their plans?

I’m so jealous that their breakfast has bread baskets 😩😩😩 I know they’re headed to the slaughter but still. Bread.

if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now." "Why would you coach us separately?" In case one of you ... not naming names .... Peeta .... wants to reveal your lifelong crush on live television 😎😎😎

Also Haymitch is like “make an important decision but take zero time to consider it, I’m tired and hungover, kids, idc for your drama 😒”

Which as an auntie to a wonderful little two year old ... is v relatable 😅🥲🙃🤭

“And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels." I wanna make a dirty joke here so badly but the lord himself is saying no.

“Town families usually eat expensive butcher meat. Beef and chicken and horse.” Ohhh this is interesting. Katniss believing Peeta and the other merchants live high on the hog while Peeta is later is like “I eat expired bread for every meal, Katniss” I mean, better than starving like her, but also not how she’s painting the picture in her mind. 😶😭

Also Katniss never mentions horses in Twelve, where’s the butcher getting horses from to slaughter and sell? That’s why Katniss never sees them, Samantha, duh 🙄

“I can't do anything. Unless you count baking bread.” "Sorry, I don't.” This was such a quick and matter of fact brush off, poor Peeta 😭😭😭 my baby I’m still rooting for you don’t worry you got this

Also. Lowkey, highkey, that tiny exchange triggered me. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭. Those awkward moments where people brush me off or glance over me live in my head. Rent free. For life.

I wonder sometimes often times if Katniss’ father and Gale’s father knew each other? Both hunted and worked in the mines. Just a random sidebar 😅🤭🤐🙃

“She’s excellent” He’s so proud of his wife 🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

So uh.... is it safe to say Mr. Mellark is an Everlark fan? If he likes and admires Katniss and Peeta and him apparently have some kind of close-ish bond (okay, maybe not but maybe) then perhaps he is carrying the shipper banner back in Twelve for them 🥳🥳😎😎

Katniss, you dingaling, of course he noticed you 🙄🙄🙄

Peeta compliments her and her instant reaction is “what are you doing, weirdo?” 😅😭

“Don’t underrate yourself” Peeta, love of my life, take your own advise. Stupid. 😪😪😪

“I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour” Katniss in the market, staring across the way at Peeta, 👁👄👁, watching him lift flour over his shoulder.

“He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother." This is criminally undiscussed. Peeta being a wrestler alone is undiscussed but also.... did you go to his matches, Katniss? Miss Anti-Social, Hunting-First-Everything-Else-Later? 😏😏😏 If this ain’t proof of her lil crush idk what is

“All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance.” “You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows.” Does no one else realize that Katniss and Peeta literally took the other’s advise for the first part of the games? How did Peeta get in with the Careers? The way she just said. Where is Katniss when Peeta and the Careers discover her? High up in a tree. Okay, this maybe didn’t compute right but I had a thought here so I said it

Peeta’s mother is just a monster. Who says that crap? 😔😔😔 don’t worry, baby, I’m rooting for you

“She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is” Yeah, she is, no thanks to you, Mrs. Mellark 😤. Stingy ho.

Peeta’s got pain in his eyes 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Awww, Katniss accrediting her survival to Peeta’s help 😭😭😭😭. This is so pure. Also kiss now, you little freaks.

“She has no idea. The effect she can have.” This is such an iconic line... but the can has always had me laughing. She can have an effect, if she really wants to. Or not, depending on the day.

Katniss is so stupid, how did she construe that as an insult??? 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️ y’all ever just wanna smack her into a wall?

“In public, I want you by each other's side every minute” If Peeta didn’t have a long life crush, what was the ultimate plan with all this friendship act they’re being forced into? 🤔🤔🤔

Even Peeta’s trying to object to it 😭😭😭😭

“You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other.” You will fall in love. 🤩🥳😎

“I bite my lip and stalk back to my room, making sure Peeta can hear the door slam.” Okay, now imagine how much she’s hurting his feelings right now 😖😣 what a little brat

“But that didn't mean I wanted to do everything with Peeta. Who, by the way, clearly doesn't want to be partnering up with me, either.” Lolololololololol this is so funny in hindsight 🤣🤣🤣. Also if you showed a little enthusiasm, Peeta would probably be happy to partner with you.

“But a tiny part of me wonders if this was a compliment. That he meant I was appealing in some way.” No, really, Katniss? A compliment? Who’d give you one of those? 🙄🙄🙄

“It's weird, how much he's noticed me. Like the attention he's paid to my hunting.” A normal person at this point would put together a crush 😅

“And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either. [...] I have kept track of the boy with the bread.” Anddd a normal person would figure out their own crush at this point 😅😅.

“I do a quick assessment. Peeta and I are the only two dressed alike.” We stan a matching couple in this house 😎😏

“Almost all of the boys and at least half of the girls are bigger than I am” That means 18 out of 24 tributes tower over my girl here. Smol Katniss. The movies did such erasure on this front I’m still bitter 🤐😒😤😩

“I may be smaller naturally, but overall my family's resourcefulness has given me an edge in that area.” Just a tiny muscular thing standing next to a bunch of tall, lanky kids. 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Awww “Each [Career tribute] must have fifty to a hundred pounds on me.” I mean ... let’s calculate. A muscular girl would probably weigh like 150 pounds... so basically Katniss is at most, 100 pounds. Tiny Katty.

“I'm thinking that it's lucky I'm a fast runner when Peeta nudges my arm and I jump.” This is a random, cute interaction 😍😍😍. Shipper blinders are on and tight.

“Suppose we tie some knots.” “Right you are.” I legitimately just scratched my face, who says right you are? An 87 year old man, that’s who 😅😅😅. Not turning your girl on very well, Peeta baby.

Although it does sound a bit like a backwoods southern thing soooo.... hillbilly Everlark nation rise. 🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️🙋🏼‍♀️

“We concentrate on this one skill for an hour until both of us have mastered it.” Awww, so Peeta knows how to tie a snare? He’s not as clueless as half the fandom acts.

How exactly is frosting cakes equating to amazing camouflager in a death match? Books crack me up with these connections. “I’m an amazing artist because I write birthday cards!”

Lolololol Prim admiring her future brother-in-law’s handiwork 🥰🥰🥰🥰 too bad she dies before they can get together for real for real.

“Somehow the whole thing - his skill, those inaccessible cakes, the praise of the camouflage expert - annoys me.” Dude, you get praised by everyone and their brother while Peeta gets overlooked, give him a moment to shine. 😑🙄 jealous wife much?

Also she’s already picking up on Peeta’s eye for beauty 😅😅😅

“It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death.” "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake-“ "Say we move on.” She’s such a little snot. 😒😒😒

But also I love that already in this point of their relationship, Peeta is noticing when she’s being a brat 😭😂😅. “Don’t be so superior.”

“Despite Haymitch's order to appear mediocre, Peeta excels in hand-to-hand combat, and I sweep the edible plants test without blinking an eye.” Lolololol their mentor’s advise went into one ear and right out the other 😂😅🤣.

But also why did the movie make a point in adding an extra scene of Peeta looking weak and the Careers staring at him? That literally took up time and served no purpose at all. 😤😤😤 I’m coming for you, Gary Ross

Awww, everyone but the careers eat alone. But Katniss and Peeta eat together 🥺🥺🥺. It’s like a forced first date 🥳🥳🥳

I like how Katniss says they include bread from every district but she then proceeds to only mention the two districts that later have relevant tributes. 😅😅😅

Lolololol their fake friendship “laugh ... now! Okay, I’ll smile, try to say something interesting”

“Ever since I slammed my door, there's been a chill in the air between us.” Well yeah, you probably hurt his feelings 🥺🥺🥺

Umm, Katniss just casually drops that she was chased by a bear.... how did homegirl live? 😬😳

Peeta knowing Rue’s name and being the one to take notice of her first 🥺🥺🥺. If the games had come down to Katniss, Peeta and Rue, y’all know Everlark would have swallowed the berries and gotten Rue home. 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around.” "All right, Katniss.” He made a single comment to you, ding dong. He didn’t ask for a goodnight kiss 🙄🙄🙄.

Also anyone ever think of how lonely Peeta’s life must be? He’s not close to his family that we can see, Delly’s his only real friend, after he wins he lives in that huge house all alone... I feel sad now. I did this to myself. 😬😭🥺

Katniss’ “Oh! The weapons!” When she sees the bows and arrows is so cute 🥰🥰🥰

Katniss has such a rage built up inside of her. Let it out, girlfriend

See, I’d have done this too but in my rage, I’d probably have shot a real person and not the pig ... goodbye, Plutarch 👋🏻

Andddd I think that’s all for this chapter! Sorry my comments weren’t as interesting as usual 😬.

[ellanainthetardis]

It’s time for a second chapter! I hope you enjoy it as much as you did the first one! Thank you for your support!

{ff] or [ao3]

2.

If it was a prank, it wasn’t one that had been made public yet.

Katniss had been waiting for the laughter and the mocking comments ever since she had put a foot at the school that morning but so far, nobody had said anything. First period had been boring like Math always was and she felt like she was suffocating. Her whole body felt too tight for her, coiled. Her skin was tingling with an odd sixth sense that told her doom was impending.

“Hey.”

She almost jumped out of her skin and slammed the boy who had startled her right against the row of lockers.

Gale stared at her with wide eyes. Either at the unexpected violence or because she had lifted him up a few inches in the air without breaking a sweat.

She dropped him and stepped back with wide eyes of her own.

“Okay…” her best friend said slowly. “Wanna explain?”

She licked her lips and averted her eyes, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. She usually tied it up in an utilitarian braid but, that day, she had felt the need for some additional cover. “Sorry. I’m jumpy today.”

“Right.” Gale frowned. “So… Your sister texted my brother and Rory texted me. The word on the street is that you are being weird since last night…”

“Prim should mind her business.” Katniss grumbled. “I’m fine.”

She headed down the corridor toward her next class, not entirely surprised when Gale followed her.

“She’s just worried about you.” he pointed out. “And it’s not like you to be so jumpy you pin me to a locker, Catnip. Did something happen?”

She hesitated. She told Gale everything. Or almost everything, at least. Gale understood her like nobody else ever would. His father was dead too and he, too, was struggling to help his mother raise his two brothers and his baby sister. Like her, he hadn’t always been on the good side of the law and he was the one who had actually taught her how to poach in the woods. And, to top it off, he was also on the archery team. Gale Hawthorne was her best friend and she was sure that if she told him about the weird night she had had, he would find an explanation that was a little more rational than vampires are a real thing.

Before she could say anymore, the bell rang and she made a face because she couldn’t afford to be late again. If she got kicked out of school, social services would poke their nose in her mother’s business again and Katniss had barely managed to convince them Aster was fit to take care of her and Prim last time.

“I’ll tell you later.” she promised.

“You better.” He smiled. “See you at practice.”

She rushed to the History classroom and almost flung herself at her usual seat but students were still chatting between themselves despite her late entrance. There were excited whispers around and she caught words like “retired” and “surprise” and “new teacher” floating around. She didn’t pay it any attention, she fished her old battered phone from her bag and groaned when she realized she had forgotten to charge it again.

It wasn’t a fancy model like all the smartphones all the wealthy kids had. It was a very basic model. All it could do was call and send text. It still had actual keys instead of a touch screen. It suited her needs just fine though. She only used it for emergencies. She had nobody to call and nobody to text beside Gale who she saw every day at school and who didn’t live that far away from her home that she couldn’t make the trip in ten minutes if she really needed something.

Because she was busy laboriously tapping a text to Prim asking her not to disclose her private business to any Hawthorne boy, she missed the new teacher’s arrival. She didn’t, however, miss the hush that fell on the classroom or the characteristic squeaky sound of the pen on the whiteboard.

The man’s back was to the room. He was wearing a blue suit as far as she could tell and his handwriting was atrocious.

She was too busy trying to decipher his name to look at him yet.

Haymitch Abernathy

The feeling of dread was back and, when she finally looked at the man, she wasn’t entirely surprised to find the stranger from the previous night smirking right at her.

“Let’s cut to the chase…” He was addressing the class but it felt as if he was talking to her specifically and she found herself scowling. She didn’t like getting played like this. “You don’t want to be here and I hate teaching so we’re in good company. Let’s try to make our time together bearable. You don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Seems fair?”

It earned him a few laughs.

Katniss just glared.

For someone who claimed to hate teaching, he wasn’t a terrible teacher. He seemed to know his subject at least. That wasn’t always a given with teachers in a town as small and as poor as the Seam.

Still, she was the first one to rush out of the room when the bell rang.

The day dragged on. She was a little afraid Abernathy would try to corner her somewhere but, true to his statement, he didn’t seem willing to bother her. She supposed that meant she should go to him first. Fat chance of that.

She didn’t need his help because none of it was true.

When Gale asked her again at practice what had bothered her so much that morning, she told him it was nothing and, this time, she meant it. She went back to the woods with him after school and they managed to catch a few squirrels.

They didn’t meet any weird people.

Nothing odd happened.

She blamed hunger for the whole thing and vowed not to hunt on an empty stomach again.

She was almost happy when she went to school the next day – as happy as you could be when the fridge and the cupboards were empty and bills were piling on the wobbly table. She was relieved it had all been in her head, truth be told. It was the only reason she didn’t immediately scowl and turned Mellark away when he casually asked if she wanted what was left of his chocolate cake because he had packed too much.

It wasn’t the first time he had cornered her in the Biology classroom before the lesson started with offers of food. Prim loved chocolate cake and she was in a good mood so she thanked him and made sure it was carefully wrapped in the paper napkin before placing it in her bag. He looked surprised and a little hopeful and he must have taken that as a tacit permission to sit because next thing she knew, he was on the stool next to hers.

That was Madge’s seat and Katniss looked at the classroom’s door with panic, hoping the blond girl would hurry and show up. Madge wasn’t really a friend because they didn’t hang out outside of school but they had been Biology partners since forever and they had eaten lunch together a few times. Madge was alright. She knew how to deal with Madge.

She didn’t know how to deal with Peeta Mellark who was king of the jocks and captain of the wrestling team.

To be fair, Mellark had always been nice to her. They had been in the same class for as long as she could remember and he was a shy kid despite his popularity. She didn’t think he had a mean bone in his body. But he was rich and they didn’t belong in the same world and Katniss was naturally weary of anyone who didn’t have to sweat and bleed to get their next meal.

Today, he looked unusually gloomy.

And, now that she was paying attention, so did the rest of the popular clique. Was Glimmer crying?

“What’s wrong?” she asked, nodding at his friends who all looked a mix of worried and depressed. That was as unusual as it got. They were always happy, shallow and haughty.

“You didn’t hear?” he said, sounding sad too. “Cato and Clove disappeared.”

The name of the girl she had set on fire was like a stab in the chest. She had done her best to repress the whole thing, not to think about why Clove hadn’t been around since that night. Her absence didn’t fit with the rational explanations she had settled on.

“Three days ago.” he continued when she didn’t say anything. “The police think they ran away together but… It’s just not like them. And they didn’t take any clothes or anything… It’s so weird…”

“Right. Weird.” she repeated flatly.

He forced a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I just hope they’re alright…”

“Yeah.” she said and she wondered if she imagined how strangled it sounded.

“Your partner’s here… I’ll…” He pointed out to his usual seat, a little hesitant and she nodded, already catching Madge’s eyes who was doing her own brand of hesitation at finding her seat taken. “Katniss?” He placed her hand on her wrist and she automatically snatched it away. He looked hurt for a second but then it was gone and his face was entirely too serious. “I know you often go to the woods on your own… Be careful, alright? I heard weird things are happening over there.”

“Thanks for the cake.” she mumbled.

Well, she thought, ignoring Madge’s awkward questions about what Peeta Mellark wanted with her… Shit.

°O°O°O°O°

Haymitch wasn’t surprised to find the girl on his classroom’s threshold at the end of the day.

He considered her as she studied him, dislike written all over her face. She didn’t look like much, his new Slayer… She was underweight. Underfed, he corrected himself. Her features were striking and she could have been pretty if she hadn’t looked so famished, her skin was olive brown, her long black hair was tied back in a braid – which was good because he hated having to tell girls to tie their fucking hair up because it wouldn’t help to be pretty once they were dead… Her eyes were grey, a shade lighter than his. For as small and thin as she was, she looked strong though and that, he decided, was good.

“Thought we had an agreement, sweetheart. Don’t bother me, I won’t bother you.” he mocked.  

She didn’t answer. She kept watching him with wariness and disgust and maybe a little bit of fear. All of which was fair as far as he was concerned.

He started packing up. Books in the bag, homework tossed in the desk drawer for him to grade later or never, the flask he had resisted the urge of touching for most of the day back in his pocket… Fuck but he hated teaching. He couldn’t believe he was back to doing that.

He didn’t pay her attention because it wasn’t how it was going to be. He didn’t dance to her tune, she danced to his. At least, that was how it was supposed to work anyway.

He could already tell this one would be difficult.

Wouldn’t save her in the long run though.

“There’s a boy missing.” she said eventually, when it became clear he wouldn’t speak first.

She stepped inside the classroom and closed the door behind her. She didn’t wander closer though, she stayed within reach of the door and as far away from the desk he was standing at as she could. Skittish, he noted.

“And?” he asked in a bored tone.

She didn’t like that.

He wondered if the scowl was her natural expression or if it was especially for him.

“And he’s Clove’s boyfriend.” she added as if it was obvious and he was being obtuse on purpose. “The girl who chewed on your neck.”

He touched the wound by reflex. It was healing without problems but it would leave a scar. By his last count, it was his fourth vampire bite.

“And?” he insisted, dragging the question out.

“And maybe he’s… like her.” she snapped. “You have to do something.”

He burst out laughing. A rough bitter laugh that made her even more weary of him, he could tell. That or he was starting to piss her off.

“I don’t have to do shit.” he countered. “I’m not the Slayer.”

She glared. “The Chosen One thing is bullshit.”

“Don’t need to convince me of that, trust me.” he snorted. “But if you think the vampire thing is bullshit, you don’t need me, then, yeah? Can’t have it both ways, sweetheart.” He watched her for a second and then leaned against the side of the desk, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Tell me, if you weren’t out looking for vampires, what were you doing with a bow in the woods at night?”

“I was hunting.” she answered as if it that made the least bit of sense in that day and age.

Though, if the looks of her was anything to go by, it actually made some sense.

“Hungry?” he asked, coming to a split decision. “There’s a diner not too far away. Good food.”

“I’ve got archery practice.” she countered.

At least, it’s not a cheerleader this time, he mused.

“Your call.” He shrugged. “Let’s hope your missing boy doesn’t chew on anyone tonight…”

He left the classroom without looking back.

He was out of the building by the time she caught up with him, her bow and quiver slung over one shoulder and her school bag over the other one.

“You’re an asshole.” she commented. “People could die. You don’t care at all?”

“People die all the time.” he replied. “You’re gonna die.”

She flinched and he might have felt a tiny bit sorry if that part of him had still been operational. But it wasn’t. He had turned it off a long time ago. He couldn’t, wouldn’t care. She would die. They all did. There was nothing he could do about it and he didn’t believe in lying to his charges. If they listened to him, they might live that little bit longer. If not…

Somehow, he didn’t think Katniss Everdeen would be the kind of Slayers who listened.

“Asshole.” she repeated under her breath.

Despite himself, he smirked. At least, she had spunk. He hated it when they were meek and compliant. Watcher-raised slayers were always like that. Obedient. Good soldiers but no personalities, no room for adaptation. Eventually, that got them killed. He had refused to take up a Potential when he had been asked. He specialized in rogue slayers.

The Council of Watchers – or, as he had once heard William The Bloody say The Council of Wankers – made a point of collecting girls who could be called and placing them in a Watcher’s care as young as possible. It wasn’t a fail-proof system though. Potentials hoped and prayed to be chosen but for a hundred of them, only one was picked, and sometimes, the girl who was called hadn’t been detected or found in time to be brought up properly. The Council called it a rogue, he called it a victor.

He worked well enough with them.

Better than with the brainwashed ones, in any case.

The diner was nothing to sing about. It was decrepit, like almost everything else in this town, and there was grease everywhere – he had never found out if that was why the owner had named it Greasy Sae’s – but the food was decent and it hadn’t changed since the last time he had been there, decades ago. Anywhere else at that time of day, the place would have been crowded with teenagers but it was mostly deserted except for a few patrons sitting at the counter.

Either there was another newer place to get burgers somewhere he hadn’t found yet or people knew not to linger outside after dark. Slayers were called where they were most needed so he would bet on the latter.

Some Watchers actually brought their Potentials to hot zones in hope that it would trick fate into turning them into the Slayer. Usually, it only meant more dead girls before they even reached puberty.

And if they weren’t chosen by the time they turned eighteen they were either hired to work for the Council as operatives or researchers or tossed on the streets without the means to do anything of themselves. You couldn’t raise a kid without getting attached, of course, but that wasn’t well seen by the higher ups and it wasn’t advised to keep in touch with a Potential who wasn’t a Potential anymore. Things had to be professional, after all. Detached. Neutral. For tweed, Queen and country. Fucking British.

“Katniss?” one of the waitresses asked uncertainly, once they had grabbed one of the booths in the corner. The discreet ones.

It occurred to him that it might look weird for a forty year-old teacher to be seen at a diner with a sixteen year-old student. Rumors would be rampant if he wasn’t careful.

“Hello, Hazelle.” the kid answered in a casual voice. Either because she didn’t get why her friend looked worried to see her with a much older man or because she didn’t care at all. “Can I have two cheeseburgers with fries to go? He’s paying.”

She added the last part both defensively and aggressively. The defensiveness was for the waitress and to the implication she didn’t have the means to pay. The aggressiveness was for his sake, he figured, to let him know she was in charge.

It amused him. She amused him. She barely reached his shoulder and she looked like a draft could knock her over but she was so full of anger that he started thinking maybe she had what it took.

It was a dangerous road, of course. It led to hope. And hope led to heartbreak.

He turned his most charming smile toward the waitress – a smile that hopefully said I am not a pervert  who preys on little girls – and the woman relaxed a little but not by much. “What she said plus two cheeseburgers and fries for us to eat here, please. And a beer. You want something to drink?”

She looked taken aback by the lack of resistance on the bill front and, if possible, even more cautious than before. “Coke.”

And the weariness triggered the waitress’ warning bells again.

He would need to teach her to be a little more covert.

“Is Sae around?” he asked casually, because he knew the familiar name would go a long way into making himself look like less of a stranger.

“No, she’s rarely in anymore.” the waitress frowned. “You know her?”

“Yeah, for a long time. I was born here, actually. Went away, came back a few years later, went away again…” He outstretched a hand in introduction. “Name’s Haymitch. I’m the new History teacher at Seam High. And I ain’t trying to seduce the kid or something… I’m a family friend. Came to help.”

“Ah.” she exclaimed in a deep relieved breath with a guilty look for Katniss. “That makes sense with Aster’s troubles…” He had meant tutoring because that was his usual cover story and now he was intrigued. What kind of troubles? She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Haymitch. I’m Hazelle Hawthorne. My oldest son is taking History. Gale?”

He winced. “Only my second day, sorry… I don’t know all the kids yet.”

“No problem.” She laughed. “It’s probably a good thing you didn’t notice him. Let me know if he gives you troubles.”

She left to place their order and he waited until he was sure she couldn’t overhear before turning his attention back to Katniss who was studying him as if she couldn’t believe him.

“You lied to her.” she accused.

“Want me to get up on the table and shout to the world that you’re the Slayer and I’m your Watcher?” he snorted. “That would go down well.”

“Maybe we should.” she retorted “Those things the other night… They could have killed us.”

“They’re demons.” he clarified. “Subclass but demons. And, yeah, they could have killed us. But you go shout around about vampires and you’re gonna find yourself locked up in a loony bin before you can say Slayer.” He shook his head. “Rule number two is… the whole thing is secret.”

“What’s rule number one?” she countered.

“Survive.” he deadpanned.

He chose the word on purpose. Not don’t die or stay alive but survive. It was different. Surviving was harder.

She pondered that a moment and then sulked a little. “I meant you lied about being from around here.”

It was his turn to ponder that for a moment. He decided on the truth because… why not? “Didn’t lie. I left for good a while ago though.” Hazelle came back with their drinks and he waited until after she had assured them their orders were coming before addressing Katniss again. “What’s with the food? You’re stocking up or you’re feeding an army?”

She took a sip of her soda and at the way she closed her eyes for a fraction of second after the first taste, he simply knew it was a luxury she hadn’t afforded herself in a long time. It wasn’t that surprising, he supposed, given the worn out clothes and the malnourished look.

He didn’t expect a straight answer so he wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t get one.

“This Slayer thing…” she ventured after a moment. “It’s like a job?”

“More like a calling.” He waved his hand in the air a little angrily. “You can say no to a job, you can’t say no to destiny when it comes knocking.”

“I meant: does it pay?” she clarified.

Again, he found himself laughing. And that surprised him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed before that day.

Johanna maybe.

Katniss was the first one who had ever asked that though.

“You could stop laughing every time I ask a question, you know.” she sulked, sliding down her seat and folding her arms in front of her chest like a petulant child.

Ah, fuck. She was one of those he was going to like. He could already tell.

That was bad.

“If you need money we can work something out.” he offered because he had too much of it anyway. Watchers were well paid. To keep their mouth shut and follow orders, mostly.

“I don’t take charity.” she snarled. “If it ain’t paid, I’m not interested. I need a job, not a calling.”  

“Then why don’t you already have one?” he asked, honestly curious. Poaching in the woods couldn’t keep her fed.

“Because people know I’ve been arrested for stealing before.” she grumbled. “They won’t hire me.”

She had a past with the police. That might become a problem. Slayers often found themselves in the middle of troubles. He would have to make sure she never got caught.

Hazelle came back with their food and he thanked her while Katniss pounced on the burger. She tried not to be obvious about it but it was glaring to him. He wondered when she had last eaten a proper meal.

He tried another angle. “Why do you need the money?”

He told himself he was getting to know her because it would help him prepare her for the mission. Not because he cared for her as a person.

She was already dead and he needed to remember that.

They were always already dead when they came to him. They just didn’t know it yet.

Half the cheeseburger was gone already and she washed it out with two greedy gulps of soda.

He had yet to touch his beer or the food.

“My sister. I take care of her.” she explained a little reluctantly.

That explained the burgers to go.

“Your parents don’t?” he probed carefully.

The Council hadn’t told him much about her. They never did. Slayers who activated in the wild were always a bit of mysteries – unplanned elements. They had given him a name, a place – and how fucking thrilled he had been to find himself back there – and a school picture that was two years out of date.

“My dad’s dead.” she snapped. Barked. As if he should have known or guessed or… “Mom’s… Mom never got over it. I take care of Prim.”

It would make it easier in a way. Parents could be difficult to reason with.

Still…

One parent dead and the other out of the picture, a sibling to support…

Too familiar.

He dipped one of the French fries in his glass of beer, ignoring her disgusted glance, before popping it in his mouth. “I can help with the money.”

She glared. “I don’t…”

“It’s not charity.” he cut her off. “I’m your Watcher.”

She watched him dip another fry in his beer. She was eating more slowly now, either because she felt sick from having gulped so much down or because she wanted to savor it.

“Because I’m the Chosen One.” she scoffed. “That still sounds crazy.”

“I know.” he offered because he did. It never got any less weird.

“I’m not special.” she insisted.

“I know.” he repeated. Another Watcher might have claimed she was special, that she was chosen, and destiny and prophecy and honor, yada yada yada… The truth of it was the girls were always ordinary girls up until the previous one died. It didn’t help to sugarcoat it.

“Well, thanks.” she remarked. She sounded less hostile and he felt his lips twitch so he busied himself by taking a bite of his cheeseburger. He wouldn’t care. Not this time. She munched on a fry, watching him. “What’s a Watcher?”

“A mentor.” he explained. “When a Slayer dies and another is activated the Council sends her a Watcher. Sometimes it’s the same person, sometimes not. Depends of the new Slayer’s needs.” He took a mouthful of beer. It tasted better with the fries. “I’m gonna train you: teach you to fight, teach you about demons, teach you how to use different weapons… That kind of things. Also, you’re gonna love that part… I’m gonna tell you where to go and what to do and you’re gonna report to me. Basically, I’m your boss.”

She snorted.

Yeah… He hadn’t thought it would be that easy either.

“Is Watcher a job or were you called by  fate too?” she mocked.

“A bit of both.” he chuckled bitterly. “But I’m being paid so I’m gonna say it’s a job. You should eat before it gets cold.”

She tossed him an odd look but finished her cheeseburger. Then, of course, she asked the question he knew had been coming from the start of the conversation. “How many Slayers did you know?”

He took another sip of beer, if only to make sure his voice would still be steady when he would speak. “Know? Seven. But I trained five if that’s what you want to know. I started when I was nineteen and I’m forty now so I’m gonna let you do the math as far as a Slayer’s life expectancy goes…”

She was staring at him but he didn’t look at her, he focused on eating his fries.

“So… The last Slayer… The one before me… You trained her?” she asked in a tone that wanted to be steady and was anything but.

“No.” he denied. “Last one was somewhere in Africa, I think. The one before her was mine, though. She was in Los Angeles. Nice weather, nasty demons. A Selkie drowned her. It was a mercy, really. She had gone mad.”

Annie had been too soft for this life.

He had never understood why she had been called in the first place. Too soft. He had known it from the start. One horror too many and she had started slipping into trances he couldn’t shake her out of. The Council had figured it out eventually, had sent a Watcher in training to assist him – a spy – the joke had been on them when instead of turning her in, Finnick had fallen in love with the broken girl. They had managed to keep her alive for a few months longer between the two of them.

Then, of course, she had followed that Selkie into the ocean and they had never known if the demon had tricked her or if she had just wanted it all to end.

‘Death is my gift’ she had whispered to him more than once and he hadn’t understood, not until he had found her floating body, not until he had been forced to restrain a yelling Finnick…

“Annie Cresta.” he added as an afterthought.

Her name figured in the Chronicles, of course, but he doubted anyone would read the journal he had kept about her. First because he had been told more than once than his records were awful and then because she hadn’t been one of the great ones. She had lasted a year. It wasn’t bad, more than most recently, but she hadn’t done anything noteworthy. She had just lost her sanity.

Girls and girls and girls sent to the slaughterhouse…

“How long will I last?” Katniss asked.

The question slapped him back to the present and he forced himself to focus, to ignore the burning need to take a sip of the hard liquor hiding in his pocket. He couldn’t afford to get drunk when he had a Slayer to mentor.

He had no good answer to offer though and the longer he remained silent the clearer it became that the silence was the answer.

She wasn’t the first one to ask him that. He could remember another girl, with honey blond hair and bright blue eyes asking him the very same thing in that very same dinner. In hindsight, he should have brought Katniss elsewhere.

“I have a sister.” she hissed between her teeth. Her eyes were shiny but the tears never made it through. “I’m all she has. I can’t…”

“If it comes down to that, when it comes down to that… I’ll make sure the kid’s taken care of.” he promised. That was the only thing he could do. He couldn’t promise to save her, but the sister he could see to. “I had a younger brother. I know what that’s like.”

Their eyes met and something passed between them, then.

An understanding.

They weren’t so much different when it came down to it, it seemed.

[ellanainthetardis]

It’s party time! Will Katniss survive her first solo mission? Will the others? Let me know your thoughts!

[ff] or [AO3]

4.

It didn’t occur to Katniss that wearing the same worn-off pants and threadbare long-sleeve shirt she had been wearing all day to a party was probably not the norm until Madge’s car stopped next to the curb and she spotted the raspberry pink frilly dress the other girl was wearing. She had told her friend to meet her near the school because she didn’t want Madge to come to the trailer park. First because Haymitch had been making her even more paranoid than she already was and then because Madge, for all her social awkwardness and lack of a clique, was the mayor’s daughter and Katniss was a little ashamed to let her see just how bad her home was.

“Am I overdressed?” Madge asked as soon as Katniss climbed in her car.

The girl looked nervous. Katniss supposed she hadn’t been to more parties than she had. Madge usually kept to herself at school.

“I think I’m the one who’s underdressed, don’t worry.” she told her. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks.” her friend beamed. “I love your hair.”

Katniss reached for the complicated braids pinned close to her skull with ambivalent feelings. It was one of those days when Aster remembered she was their mother and, upon learning she was going out, she had insisted on doing her hair. Prim had been so happy to see their mom up that Katniss hadn’t protested, knowing that her sister would inevitably be crushed later when she would give in to the depression again.

“Thanks.” she muttered.

It didn’t matter that she wasn’t dressed to impress. She was going only to make sure no vampires crashed the party and that was the only thing that counted. The pants were loose enough to conceal two stakes and, per Haymitch’s instructions, she had a knife strapped to her ankle. She would have felt better if she had been able to bring her bow but, as her Watcher had pointed out, it wouldn’t have been very inconspicuous.

“Here.” Madge said suddenly, taking off a golden pin from her dress. “Wear this.” Katniss tried to protest but her friend wouldn’t hear of it. “No, take it. Keep it, even. It’s my aunt’s.”

The round pin was shaped like a bird perched on an arrow. She wasn’t much for jewelry but it was pretty and it did make her outfit a little less shabby.

“Won’t she mind?” she asked.

Madge started the car, apparently not in any hurry to look at her anymore. “She died.”

“Oh… Sorry.” she winced. “I can’t keep it, then. You should…”

“I want you to have it.” Madge insisted. “For luck.” The girl glanced at her with a brave smile. “A token of friendship.”

Katniss smiled back.

The car drive was less awkward than she had feared it would be. She wasn’t a great talker and neither was Madge usually but her friend looked both really nervous and really excited by the prospect of a party. From what she said and didn’t say, Katniss concluded her parents were really strict about letting her out at night but, given what she now knew, she didn’t see how it was bad. She had been very strict with Prim about the hours she kept too lately.

“Is your friend Gale coming?” Madge asked as they drove down the long narrow road that led to the hotel. The woods stretched on either side of the car and, despite herself, Katniss peered at the darkness outside in case…

Haymitch had been trying to hone her detection skills. She was very good at hunting, which helped, but this wasn’t about tracks, this was about her reaching out with a sixth sense she wasn’t sure really existed and determining how many vampires were around her and where. She sucked at vampire detection. She was pretty sure she didn’t have that sixth sense he kept berating her about.

“No clue.” Gale hadn’t been in touch and she hadn’t gone out of her way to contact him either. She was still a bit miffed. And the fact that he seemed to use his little brother as a source of information wasn’t helping matter. She had told Prim not to talk to Rory about her but she could tell her sister had been a little confused by the unusual request.

“Can I ask…” Madge hesitated. “Are you and Gale… together?”

“No.” she protested at once. “Why does everyone think that?”

Madge glanced at her and back at the road. She was going ten miles under the speed limit. She was either a careful driver or she wasn’t sure she really wanted to arrive to that party. The closer they got to the Capitol, the strongest Katniss already regretted making the decision to go. The prospect of being stuck in a place packed with people she didn’t know and who would only be concerned with getting drunk or getting laid wasn’t a fun one.

Vampires, she reminded herself.

“He’s… He’s a little in love with you, Katniss.” the girl offered frankly. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“He’s not.” she scoffed. “We’ve been friends for years.”

Madge laughed but she didn’t think the girl was making fun of her. “And I thought I was bad with people… Peeta is in love with you too, for the record.”

“Peeta isn’t in love with me. He’s just… weird.” she corrected.

Madge’s smile was knowing but she shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

The huge imposing hotel appeared around a corner of the road. Every window was lit, they could hear the music over the sound of the engine, the air seemed to pulse with its beat… The building shone like a beacon in the darkness.

There would be vampires alright.  

“Listen.” she urged as Madge looked for a parking spot. “Be careful tonight, okay? Don’t follow anyone you don’t know and don’t let anyone take you to the woods.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Her friend flashed her a smile. “I’m always careful. You should be careful too.”

Katniss nodded her agreement and squeezed her hand with a feeling of foreboding far too strong to be dismissed. She had felt the same thing when she had left Haymitch’s house earlier. He had walked her all the way to the end of the driveway. He had reached for her, then, but had aborted the gesture at the last second. She had wondered if he had wanted to hug her and had given up on it just because it felt too much like a goodbye.

But she would be fine, she told herself firmly as she got off the car. She couldn’t die tonight because she had promised Prim she would take her out to the mall in the morning. Her clothes were becoming too small and she had a little extra-cash because slaying vampires, at least, paid well – or Haymitch paid her well but she had decided she didn’t want to look at that too closely or she would have been forced to refuse, somehow he always seemed to know when she needed money.  

It seemed like the whole school and then some was there.

A few people were scattered in the meadow that stretched around the hotel, laughing and joking together, clutching red cups.

The music, the sound of voices, the number of people… It aggressed her. It was like slamming against an invisible wall. Repeatedly.

It was worse inside. The hotel was huge but people remained packed together, crowding the large rooms and making it impossible to turn without bumping into someone. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to find vampires in the middle of this. She tried the sixth sense thing but her other five senses were already overloaded so…

There was a dancefloor in one of the rooms and it was even more crowded than the rest of the place.

Never before had she asked herself what she was doing there so many times in such a short amount of time.

“I don’t think I like parties after all.” Madge told her – shouted to be heard over the music, really.

She could relate.

They awkwardly hung out with their backs to one of the walls, watching the other teenagers with no idea of what they should have been doing. That was how Katniss noticed the girl flirting with one of the guys from the football team.

Something was off with her.

She looked too old to be there and there was something to the way she moved…

Katniss frowned and watched her. When the girl gestured she wanted to go outside, the guy immediately nodded with an eager smile. Katniss mumbled a hurried excuse to Madge about how she needed to go to the bathroom and followed at a distance. This, she knew how to do. It wasn’t too different from hunting.

The vampire didn’t bother dragging her prey too far into the surrounding woods, which made it easier for Katniss. The girl had pushed the boy against a trunk and they were kissing. Neither of them noticed her when she slipped behind them, regretting the absence of her bow. She could have taken her from afar and without breaking a sweat.

The vampire did notice when she tapped on her shoulder though. She looked behind her in reflex and Katniss punched her before the vampire realized what was going on.

“Hey!” the guy protested.

“Get out of here.” Katniss ordered.

He grabbed her arm. “Who do you think…”

The growl coming from the forest ground got his attention and, when he caught a glimpse of the demonic face in the darkness, he let her go and ran away without even looking back.

“You’re going to regret this…” the vampire warned.

“Yeah, that’s what they always say…” Katniss sighed.

It didn’t take her long to dispatch her but, on her way back, she found another vampire. A guy, this time, steering a clueless cheerleader toward the back of the hotel where there weren’t any people who would interrupt them. That one didn’t give her much trouble either but she was covered in dust when she found her way back to Madge, against the very same wall she had left her.

“What happened?” her friend asked.

“I fell.” she lied.

“On your way to the bathroom?” Madge’s eyebrows lifted up and Katniss reluctantly admitted Haymitch had a point when he claimed she was a bad liar. Fortunately, she didn’t seem too interested to know what Katniss had really been up to. “I saw Peeta, he was looking for you. He’s over there with Cato…”

A chill ran down her spine.

“Cato?” she repeated.

Madge nodded. “He’s back, apparently. Weird, right? After more than two weeks…”

Weird didn’t cover it.

She searched the crowd until she spotted them next to one of the bay windows, both of them clutching a red cup. Peeta was nodding at whatever Cato was telling him, a serious expression on his face.

She took a step toward them, not sure how she was going to attract Cato out of there but certain she needed to do something now, when someone grabbed her arm. She spun around and it was a good thing Gale had reflexes because he avoided her punch but stared at her like she had grown a second head.

“What is it with you and wanting to hit me lately?” he grumbled.

“Maybe if you were less of an ass…” she retorted. “What are you doing here?”

Gale’s face closed off. “It’s an open invite party. I thought I’d check it out.”

“You hate parties.” she pointed out.

“So do you. Or so I thought.” he snapped. “But what do I know, I’m not captain of the wrestling team…”

He was captain of the archery team – a spot that should have been hers because she was better than he was – and she didn’t see how it was relevant. The mention of Peeta reminded her that she had a mission that wasn’t arguing with Gale though. She turned back toward the windows but the spot where Peeta and Cato had been standing was empty. She looked around frantically but she couldn’t see them everywhere.

“Where’s Peeta?” she asked.

“Are you serious?”  Gale scoffed but she ignored him.

“He went outside with Cato.” Madge offered. Her blue eyes darted between Katniss and Gale and then she cleared her throat. “Do you want to dance?”

It seemed to have taken all her courage to ask.

Gale was still staring at Katniss with an intensity she couldn’t explain to herself. In the end, an hurt expression on his face, he grabbed Madge’s hand and tugged her toward the dancefloor. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

“Stay inside!” she shouted to them.

She wasn’t sure if they heard but she didn’t have time to make sure. She dashed outside but there was no trace of Peeta or Cato anywhere. She asked the people who were smoking and drinking in the meadow but it took her at least five minutes to find someone coherent enough to point her in the right direction.

Cato already had ten minutes on her.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that ten minutes was all a vampire needed to bleed someone dry.

She tore through the woods at a jog without bothering with discretion. She liked Peeta, she was annoyed to realize. Sure, he was wealthier than her and there was the whole charity thing but… Peeta had always been nice to her, even when she hadn’t been, and she liked him. She wouldn’t have said they were friends but she wouldn’t have called Madge a friend either until she had said it first so what did she know?

Well, she did know she really didn’t like the idea of her friends becoming vampire snacks.  

Somewhere up ahead, a boy screamed.

It was good, she told herself, if Peeta could scream then he was still alive.

When she found them, Cato was wearing his game face, yellow eyes and fangs all accounted for, and Peeta was trying to keep him at a distance by waving a big branch. His neck was bleeding but so was Cato’s nose.

“Katniss, get away!” Peeta panicked when he saw her. “He’s… He’s some kind of monster!”

“You always were a little prick.” Cato spat. “I can’t believe I was going to turn you.”

That made Katniss’ blood run cold.

She liked the thought of Peeta turning into a vampire even less than she liked the idea of him becoming a snack.

“Run!” Peeta screamed again, waving his branch like a club. “I’ll buy you time!”

Cato grabbed the branch with a sigh, as if it was a huge inconvenience, and tore it out of Peeta’s hands, making him lose his balance. Katniss jumped in between them and hurled the vampire against a tree with a flying kick, pulling her stake from the small of her back at the same time.

“Now, you’re making me angry…” Cato growled.

He had rolled from his fall into a crouch and he pounced on her without giving her time to regroup or think. He was on the wrestling team with Peeta and it showed. Instinct and her relentless training with Haymitch gave her a small edge but he had years of practice she didn’t have. It only took her two minutes to figure out it would be a difficult fight and it wasn’t helped at all by the knowledge that Peeta was hovering nearby, waiting for an opening to enter the fray.

She didn’t need him to get hurt on top of everything.

“Get out of here!” she shouted at him and the second of distraction cost her dearly.

Cato’s backhand slap sent her flying in the air and she hit a tree with a huff. She was pretty sure it would have broken a normal person’s back. She was just a little stiff and sore when she got back to her feet.

“What are you?” Cato hissed, watching her a little more warily.

Preys who wouldn’t stay down weren’t common, she supposed.

“She’s the one who has been killing my minions after I went to a lot of troubles to find pretty ones.”

The woman came out of the trees on their right with two other vampires in tow. She was strikingly beautiful. Blond hair held away from her face with multiples tiny braids, blue eyes, fair skin and a pretty black dress that must have been very expensive.

Katniss suddenly understood what Haymitch meant by vampire senses because that one triggered them all. The thingling at the base of her nape was driving her crazy. And she was certain, without knowing how, that the woman was powerful and old and probably much more than she could take.

Cato had fallen back with an odd sort of deference at the vampire’s entrance and Peeta immediately rushed to Katniss’ side, the makeshift club back in his hands as if it really could be useful against any of the four vampires.

“What the hell?” he whispered.

“Vampires.” she supplied, fishing her spare stake out of her pocket and handing it out to him.

He stared at it, then back at her. “You’re joking.”

“I wish.” She tried to add some bravado to her voice but the truth was that she was terrified. When the woman moved, everything seemed to flow. A little like Haymitch when he really bothered to fight but also a lot more graceful than anything her mentor could ever hope to achieve. That vampire was a warrior. Katniss tilted her chin up stubbornly and adjusted her grip on her stake. “Who are you?”

She would have told Peeta to run if she had thought it would help but, while she was pretty sure the woman wouldn’t go after him, Cato and the two other vampires probably would.

“Your death. Slayer.” the woman mocked.

A tilt of her head and the two vampires at her side rushed to Katniss. Those didn’t have Cato’s skills and were probably still pretty new. She dispatched the first one with a few kicks and one good hit to the chest. The second one used that time to attack Peeta but his branch and his clumsy attempts at stabbing him in the heart had slowed the vampire down enough that Katniss could hit him from behind while he was distracted.

Then, of course, Cato jumped on her from the side and she was back to trying to contain him and keep an eye on the woman at the same time.

“You are a pretty one. And strong too.” the old vampire purred at Peeta. “I might keep you…”

Irritation gave Katniss the boost she needed and she used a turning kick to send Cato flying straight into the woman.

“Run!” she screamed to Peeta while the two vampires were still busy trying to untangle themselves and get up. She didn’t leave him a choice, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him along. There were crashing noises behind them and she just knew Cato and the strange vampire were hot on their heels. They emerged out of the woods panting but Katniss didn’t slow down, not until they had reached the lights flooding out of the hotel’s windows.

The music was still loud and deafening, people were still laughing and dancing inside… Here, in the meadow, nothing had changed.

She came to an abrupt stop and whirled around, forcing Peeta to turn with her because she still had a deadly grip on his wrist. She half expected to see the blonde vampire stroll out of the woods and straight to them but nobody walked out from between the trees. Everything was calm. As if nothing at all had happened.

They remained there, frozen, for several minutes, and then the stake Peeta was still clutching with his free hand fell to the ground in a dull sound. “I guess it’s really not like Twilight…”

“Katniss!” Gale called out.

She turned her head in time to see her best friend striding toward her, Madge right behind him. They were both looking at them with wide frightened eyes but Madge started running before Gale because the boy’s eyes had locked on the fingers coiled around Peeta’s wrist.  

“You’re hurt!” Madge gasped, reaching for her cheek. And now that she said it and that the adrenaline was coming down, Katniss’ cheekbone started throbbing. So did her shoulder for that matter. She had landed badly on it.

“What did you do to her?” Gale hissed with a fury Katniss had never heard coming from him.

Before she could react, Peeta’s arm had been torn from her grip. Gale had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and had slammed him against the outer wall of the hotel. The commotion attracted attention and a few boys started shouting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” like it was some sort of game.

“Let me go.” Peeta demanded.

“Let him go.” Katniss seconded in a tone that broke no argument.

Gale tossed her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me? Did you see yourself? I swear if he touched you I…”

“Peeta didn’t hurt me.” she snapped. She wedged herself in between them and shoved Gale back. “Stop being an idiot.”

Gale stared at her, ran his hand in his hair and then scoffed. “Yeah. I guess I’m the idiot for coming to this stupid party in the first place.”

He stormed away before she could even try to answer that.

“That’s the second time you save me tonight. I feel like a damsel in distress.” Peeta commented behind her. And then he was laughing and there was a hysterical tinge to it that made Katniss wince.

“You need to go to the hospital.” Madge said quietly. “Both of you.”  

“No, I’m fine.” she denied. “I need to…” Find Haymitch and tell him about the blond vampire. But what was she going to do with Peeta? The boy was still laughing. She was pretty sure Cato hadn’t drunk enough from him to make the blood loss dangerous but there were scrapes on his face and she didn’t trust him not to spill everything to the first person he saw – namely Madge. She needed to make him swear that he would keep silent. “Peeta, do you have a car? I’ll drive you home.”

He nodded, still laughing, and Katniss rolled his eyes at him. She hadn’t been that hysterical when she had found herself face to face with vampires.

“You should go home too.” she told Madge.

She didn’t want to leave her friend alone when vampires were around. Hell, she didn’t want to leave anyone when vampires were around but she needed to regroup. Playing it clever had always been the plan. Survive was rule number one. She was certain she wouldn’t survive a fight against the blond vampire.

Madge, fortunately, didn’t even discuss it. They all headed to the parking lot. Peeta had stopped laughing but he still occasionally chuckled to himself like a mad person. He handed her the keys of his SUV and she faltered for a moment because the car looked brand new and far too big. But she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She sat behind the wheel, fumbled around with the seat because Peeta was too tall and she could barely reach the pedals as it was, and waited until he had strapped himself in before turning the ignition on.

The car moved two feet and then stalled.

She started the engine again without looking at Peeta.

After three attempts, the car kept on stalling and they weren’t even out of the parking lot but at least Peeta had stopped chuckling.

“Do you know how to drive?” he asked.

There was no judgment but there was some fondness as if she was currently doing something particularly cute. She had no clue what could be going through his head and she wasn’t going to admit she had never learned how to drive.

“How hard can it be?” she retorted.

He smiled a soft smile and shook his head. “Let’s switch seats. I’m good to drive now.”

She eyed the wound on his neck dubiously but he looked calmer and alert so she shrugged her acceptance.

“Can you drop me at Haymitch’s?” she asked once they were driving down the road that led back into town.

“Haymitch?” he frowned.

“Mr Abernathy.” she clarified.

That gave him more pause than the vampire thing had earlier and, for a second, she was scared he would start laughing again. “The History teacher? Why do you want to go to our History teacher’s house in the middle of the night?”

“Because he’s my Watcher.” she sighed.

He was silent for a few minutes and then winced and shrugged. “Yeah, no… I can turn that sentence around in my head, the only way it’s making sense is creepy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s complicated. He’s helping me with the…”

She let her sentence trail off, not sure she wanted to set him off again. And maybe he wanted to pretend none of this had happened. She would understand. People developed incredible powers of persuasion in that sort of situations.

“Vampires.” he finished. “Who are real.” She remained silent and he must have taken that for a confirmation that he wasn’t crazy because he continued. “She called you slayer… And you took down those vampires… And when did you learn to fight like that? And how long has this been going on?”

Katniss sighed and slid down her seat a little.

So much for secrecy.

[everlark-your-own-adventure]

Camp Mockingjay - Ch 6

We asked, you voted, and now Katniss and and everyone’s favourite baker boy are planning an epic water balloon battle at Camp Mockingjay! What happens next? Let’s find out, shall we? Here it is, the next installment of our story, brought to you by @javistg! You have 48 hours to vote on the direction of the next chapter of the story (until noon EDT on Wednesday, July 26th). Remember: vote in the comments, not in the tags! And don’t forget to spread the word by reblogging. The more fans playing this game, the more fun it will be!

“Duck!” Johanna yells.

I fall to my knees just in time to see a red balloon, swollen with a full load of water, swooshing past my head.

The balloon hits its mark, exploding over Madge’s chest and drenching her in ice-cold water.

With a surprised yelp, Madge falls to the ground leaving her team’s flag unprotected.

Moving as fast as I can, I jump back up and make a dash for the flag.

Every muscle in my body screams in pain as I run, but I keep going using the last of my strength to reach the mound where the flag waves, and I snatch it.

“Got it!” I yell, waving the green piece of fabric in my tightened fist as I turn to my team.

The sound of a ringing bell announces the end of the game.

My team explodes in cheers.

I make my way back down, careful not to slip on the wet dirt. When I reach the bottom, I find Madge lying on the ground.

“You ok?” I ask, offering a hand to help her back to her feet.

“Yeah,” she says, chuckling as she takes my hand to right herself. “The only thing hurt is my pride.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Madge!” Peeta says startling me. With all the commotion, I hadn’t realized he was by my side. “You did great! You were the last person standing!” he adds.

“Thanks, Peeta,” Madge says modestly before walking away.

 “Sorry I beat you,” I say coyly as I whip around to face Peeta.

The slippery floor makes me lose my footing as I turn, and I teeter on the verge of falling straight into Peeta’s arms.

With surprisingly quick reflexes, Peeta reaches for my hips.

The pressure of his fingers, softly digging into my skin as he keeps me from falling, sets my skin on fire.

We’re standing so close to each other that the only thing I see is his bare chest, muscular and wet, glistening enticingly under the sun.

A fuzzy warmth spreads through my chest making me deliciously dizzy. I don’t know if it’s the heat or the exhaustion of the game, but I’m breathless.

My lips part, gasping for air as my hungry eyes map Peeta’s golden skin, taking stock of even the smallest details; like the jagged scar that stretches over his collarbone or the splattering of bronzed freckles that paint his shoulders like the milky way.

Peeta swallows, the slow movement of his Adam’s apple brings me back to my senses, and I tense under his touch, painfully aware of the fact that I’m openly ogling his naked torso.

Embarrassed, I pull away from him and look up.

“What happened?” I ask in shock when I see his face.

An angry red bruise that’s already begun to swell paints his right cheek.

 “It’s nothing,” he says, shrugging off my concern with a smile. “I got a balloon to the face. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Without even thinking, I reach out and touch the bruise.

Peeta winces.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, worried that I’ve caused him pain.

He shakes his head. “Not really. It’s just a bit tender, that’s all.”

I’m about to suggest that we go to the main office and get an ice-pack for his face when I spot Gale headed in our direction.

“Hey, man,” Gale greets, patting Peeta’s back with a little more force than I’d like. “Sorry about that shiner. I didn’t realize I was throwing so hard.”

“You did this?” I ask, sending an angry glare in Gale’s direction.

“it’s a game, Catnip,” he says, talking to me like I’m a three-year old, “accidents happen.”

I’m about to tell him that I’m not an idiot when Peeta lets go of me and says, “No worries. That’ll teach me not to compete against people with perfect aim, right?”

Gale chuckles, looking at me he adds, “She’s the one with the perfect aim, though. Compared to her I’m just passable.”

Peeta smiles. “Next time I’ll make sure to have her on my team then.”

There’s a small pause. I’m starting to think Gale is going to turn and walk away when, instead, he reaches out and laces his fingers through mine.

Surprised, I freeze.

“Come on, Catnip!” he says, giving my hand an urgent tug, “Thom’s organized a party by the lake to celebrate our victory!”

With a cursory glance in Peeta’s direction, he adds, “See you later, dude.” Keeping my hand tightly trapped in his, Gale begins to walk.

I’m still in shock, but now I’m also angry. Where does he get off interrupting my conversation and dragging me away like I’m a piece of furniture?

Digging my heels in the dirt, I stop short and free my hand from his. Scowling, I say, “I’m not ready to go yet.”

Surprise and a flicker of anger flash through Gale’s eyes. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he thinks better of it and stops himself.

And that’s when I see it, the thing I’ve been too blind to see before. The longing, the pain, the missing piece of the strange puzzle that’s been Gale’s attitude in the last few months.

Gale Hawthorne likes me, and not as a friend.

But I don’t like him that way. And just as I can read his feelings in his eyes, he can read mine. “Gale, I’m–,”

“Forget it, Catnip,” he says, turning on his heels and stomping away.

I turn to look at Peeta, the sad twinkle in his eyes tells me he’s probably known all along.

I’m torn, Gale is my oldest, closest friend. I don’t want to lose him, but I honestly don’t know what to say to him right now.

Should I follow him and try to make things right by clearing the air once and for all? Or should I just let him walk away; act like nothing’s happened and go to the party with Peeta?

[readbookywooks]

9 I stop trying to sleep after my first few attempts are interrupted by unspeakable nightmares. After that, I just lie still and do fake breathing whenever someone checks on me. In the morning, I'm released from the hospital and instructed to take it easy. Cressida asks me to record a few lines for a new Mockingjay propo. At lunch, I keep waiting for people to bring up Peeta's appearance, but no one does. Someone must have seen it besides Finnick and me. I have training, but Gale's scheduled to work with Beetee on weapons or something, so I get permission to take Finnick to the woods. We wander around awhile and then ditch our communicators under a bush. When we're a safe distance away, we sit and discuss Peeta's broadcast. "I haven't heard one word about it. No one's told you anything?" Finnick says. I shake my head. He pauses before he asks, "Not even Gale?" I'm clinging to a shred of hope that Gale honestly knows nothing about Peeta's message. But I have a bad feeling he does. "Maybe he's trying to find a time to tell you privately." "Maybe," I say. We stay silent so long that a buck wanders into range. I take it down with an arrow. Finnick hauls it back to the fence. For dinner, there's minced venison in the stew. Gale walks me back to Compartment E after we eat. When I ask him what's been going on, again there's no mention of Peeta. As soon as my mother and sister are asleep, I slip the pearl from the drawer and spend a second sleepless night clutching it in my hand, replaying Peeta's words in my head. "Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out." Find out. What? From who? And how can Peeta know anything except what the Capitol tells him? It's just a Capitol propo. More noise. But if Plutarch thinks it's just the Capitol line, why didn't he tell me about it? Why hasn't anyone let me or Finnick know? Under this debate lies the real source of my distress: Peeta. What have they done to him? And what are they doing to him right now? Clearly, Snow did not buy the story that Peeta and I knew nothing about the rebellion. And his suspicions have been reinforced, now that I have come out as the Mockingjay. Peeta can only guess about the rebel tactics or make up things to tell his torturers. Lies, once discovered, would be severely punished. How abandoned by me he must feel. In his first interview, he tried to protect me from the Capitol and rebels alike, and not only have I failed to protect him, I've brought down more horrors upon him. Come morning, I stick my forearm in the wall and stare groggily at the day's schedule. Immediately after breakfast, I am slated for Production. In the dining hall, as I down my hot grain and milk and mushy beets, I spot a communicuff on Gale's wrist. "When did you get that back, Soldier Hawthorne?" I ask. "Yesterday. They thought if I'm going to be in the field with you, it could be a backup system of communication," says Gale. No one has ever offered me a communicuff. I wonder, if I asked for one, would I get it? "Well, I guess one of us has to be accessible," I say with an edge to my voice. "What's that mean?" he says. "Nothing. Just repeating what you said," I tell him. "And I totally agree that the accessible one should be you. I just hope I still have access to you as well." Our eyes lock, and I realize how furious I am with Gale. That I don't believe for a second that he didn't see Peeta's propo. That I feel completely betrayed that he didn't tell me about it. We know each other too well for him not to read my mood and guess what has caused it. "Katniss - " he begins. Already the admission of guilt is in his tone. I grab my tray, cross to the deposit area, and slam the dishes onto the rack. By the time I'm in the hallway, he's caught up with me. "Why didn't you say something?" he asks, taking my arm. "Why didn'tI ?" I jerk my arm free. "Why didn'tyou , Gale? And I did, by the way, when I asked you last night about what had been going on!" "I'm sorry. All right? I didn't know what to do. I wanted to tell you, but everyone was afraid that seeing Peeta's propo would make you sick," he says. "They were right. It did. But not quite as sick as you lying to me for Coin." At that moment, his communicuff starts beeping. "There she is. Better run. You have things to tell her." For a moment, real hurt registers on his face. Then cold anger replaces it. He turns on his heel and goes. Maybe I have been too spiteful, not given him enough time to explain. Maybe everyone is just trying to protect me by lying to me. I don't care. I'm sick of people lying to me for my own good. Because really it's mostly for their own good. Lie to Katniss about the rebellion so she doesn't do anything crazy. Send her into the arena without a clue so we can fish her out. Don't tell her about Peeta's propo because it might make her sick, and it's hard enough to get a decent performance out of her as it is. I do feel sick. Heartsick. And too tired for a day of production. But I'm already at Remake, so I go in. Today, I discover, we will be returning to District 12. Cressida wants to do unscripted interviews with Gale and me throwing light on our demolished city. "If you're both up for that," says Cressida, looking closely at my face. "Count me in," I say. I stand, uncommunicative and stiff, a mannequin, as my prep team dresses me, does my hair, and dabs makeup on my face. Not enough to show, only enough to take the edge off the circles under my sleepless eyes. Boggs escorts me down to the Hangar, but we don't talk beyond a preliminary greeting. I'm grateful to be spared another exchange about my disobedience in 8, especially since his mask looks so uncomfortable. At the last moment, I remember to send a message to my mother about my leaving 13, and stress that it won't be dangerous. We board a hovercraft for the short ride to 12 and I'm directed to a seat at a table where Plutarch, Gale, and Cressida are poring over a map. Plutarch's brimming with satisfaction as he shows me the before/after effects of the first couple of propos. The rebels, who were barely maintaining a foothold in several districts, have rallied. They have actually taken 3 and 11 - the latter so crucial since it's Panem's main food supplier - and have made inroads in several other districts as well. "Hopeful. Very hopeful indeed," says Plutarch. "Fulvia's going to have the first round ofWe Remember spots ready tonight, so we can target the individual districts with their dead. Finnick's absolutely marvelous." "It's painful to watch, actually," says Cressida. "He knew so many of them personally." "That's what makes it so effective," says Plutarch. "Straight from the heart. You're all doing beautifully. Coin could not be more pleased." Gale didn't tell them, then. About my pretending not to see Peeta and my anger at their cover-up. But I guess it's too little, too late, because I still can't let it go. It doesn't matter. He's not speaking to me, either. It's not until we land in the Meadow that I realize Haymitch isn't among our company. When I ask Plutarch about his absence, he just shakes his head and says, "He couldn't face it." "Haymitch? Not able to face something? Wanted a day off, more likely," I say. "I think his actual words were 'I couldn't face it without a bottle,'" says Plutarch. I roll my eyes, long out of patience with my mentor, his weakness for drink, and what he can or can't confront. But about five minutes after my return to 12, I'm wishing I had a bottle myself. I thought I'd come to terms with 12's demise - heard of it, seen it from the air, and wandered through its ashes. So why does everything bring on a fresh pang of grief? Was I simply too out of it before to fully register the loss of my world? Or is it the look on Gale's face as he takes in the destruction on foot that makes the atrocity feel brand-new? Cressida directs the team to start with me at my old house. I ask her what she wants me to do. "Whatever you feel like," she says. Standing back in my kitchen, I don't feel like doing anything. In fact, I find myself focusing up at the sky - the only roof left - because too many memories are drowning me. After a while, Cressida says, "That's fine, Katniss. Let's move on." Gale doesn't get off so easily at his old address. Cressida films him in silence for a few minutes, but just as he pulls the one remnant of his previous life from the ashes - a twisted metal poker - she starts to question him about his family, his job, life in the Seam. She makes him go back to the night of the firebombing and reenact it, starting at his house, working his way down across the Meadow and through the woods to the lake. I straggle behind the film crew and the bodyguards, feeling their presence to be a violation of my beloved woods. This is a private place, a sanctuary, already corrupted by the Capitol's evil. Even after we've left behind the charred stumps near the fence, we're still tripping over decomposing bodies. Do we have to record it for everyone to see? By the time we reach the lake, Gale seems to have lost his ability to speak. Everyone's dripping in sweat - especially Castor and Pollux in their insect shells - and Cressida calls for a break. I scoop up handfuls of water from the lake, wishing I could dive in and surface alone and naked and unobserved. I wander around the perimeter for a while. When I come back around to the little concrete house beside the lake, I pause in the doorway and see Gale propping the crooked poker he salvaged against the wall by the hearth. For a moment I have an image of a lone stranger, sometime far in the future, wandering lost in the wilderness and coming upon this small place of refuge, with the pile of split logs, the hearth, the poker. Wondering how it came to be. Gale turns and meets my eyes and I know he's thinking about our last meeting here. When we fought over whether or not to run away. If we had, would District 12 still be there? I think it would. But the Capitol would still be in control of Panem as well. Cheese sandwiches are passed around and we eat them in the shade of the trees. I intentionally sit at the far edge of the group, next to Pollux, so I don't have to talk. No one's talking much, really. In the relative quiet, the birds take back the woods. I nudge Pollux with my elbow and point out a small black bird with a crown. It hops to a new branch, momentarily opening its wings, showing off its white patches. Pollux gestures to my pin and raises his eyebrows questioningly. I nod, confirming it's a mockingjay. I hold up one finger to sayWait, I'll show you , and whistle a birdcall. The mockingjay cocks its head and whistles the call right back at me. Then, to my surprise, Pollux whistles a few notes of his own. The bird answers him immediately. Pollux's face breaks into an expression of delight and he has a series of melodic exchanges with the mockingjay. My guess is it's the first conversation he's had in years. Music draws mockingjays like blossoms do bees, and in a short while he's got half a dozen of them perched in the branches over our heads. He taps me on the arm and uses a twig to write a word in the dirt. SING? Usually, I'd decline, but it's kind of impossible to say no to Pollux, given the circumstances. Besides, the mockingjays' song voices are different from their whistles, and I'd like him to hear them. So, before I actually think about what I'm doing, I sing Rue's four notes, the ones she used to signal the end of the workday in 11. The notes that ended up as the background music to her murder. The birds don't know that. They pick up the simple phrase and bounce it back and forth between them in sweet harmony. Just as they did in the Hunger Games before the muttations broke through the trees, chased us onto the Cornucopia, and slowly gnawed Cato to a bloody pulp - "Want to hear them do a real song?" I burst out. Anything to stop those memories. I'm on my feet, moving back into the trees, resting my hand on the rough trunk of a maple where the birds perch. I have not sung "The Hanging Tree" out loud for ten years, because it's forbidden, but I remember every word. I begin softly, sweetly, as my father did. "Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where they strung up a man they say murdered three. Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." The mockingjays begin to alter their songs as they become aware of my new offering. "Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where the dead man called out for his love to flee. Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." I have the birds' attention now. In one more verse, surely they will have captured the melody, as it's simple and repeats four times with little variation. "Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free. Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." A hush in the trees. Just the rustle of leaves in the breeze. But no birds, mockingjay or other. Peeta's right. They do fall silent when I sing. Just as they did for my father. "Are you, are you Coming to the tree Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me. Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree." The birds are waiting for me to continue. But that's it. Last verse. In the stillness I remember the scene. I was home from a day in the woods with my father. Sitting on the floor with Prim, who was just a toddler, singing "The Hanging Tree." Making us necklaces out of scraps of old rope like it said in the song, not knowing the real meaning of the words. The tune was simple and easy to harmonize to, though, and back then I could memorize almost anything set to music after a round or two. Suddenly, my mother snatched the rope necklaces away and was yelling at my father. I started to cry because my mother never yelled, and then Prim was wailing and I ran outside to hide. As I had exactly one hiding spot - in the Meadow under a honeysuckle bush - my father found me immediately. He calmed me down and told me everything was fine, only we'd better not sing that song anymore. My mother just wanted me to forget it. So, of course, every word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain. We didn't sing it anymore, my father and I, or even speak of it. After he died, it used to come back to me a lot. Being older, I began to understand the lyrics. At the beginning, it sounds like a guy is trying to get his girlfriend to secretly meet up with him at midnight. But it's an odd place for a tryst, a hanging tree, where a man was hung for murder. The murderer's lover must have had something to do with the killing, or maybe they were just going to punish her anyway, because his corpse called out for her to flee. That's weird obviously, the talking-corpse bit, but it's not until the third verse that "The Hanging Tree" begins to get unnerving. You realize the singer of the song is the dead murderer. He's still in the hanging tree. And even though he told his lover to flee, he keeps asking if she's coming to meet him. The phraseWhere I told you to run, so we'd both be free is the most troubling because at first you think he's talking about when he told her to flee, presumably to safety. But then you wonder if he meant for her to run to him. To death. In the final stanza, it's clear that that's what he's waiting for. His lover, with her rope necklace, hanging dead next to him in the tree. I used to think the murderer was the creepiest guy imaginable. Now, with a couple of trips to the Hunger Games under my belt, I decide not to judge him without knowing more details. Maybe his lover was already sentenced to death and he was trying to make it easier. To let her know he'd be waiting. Or maybe he thought the place he was leaving her was really worse than death. Didn't I want to kill Peeta with that syringe to save him from the Capitol? Was that really my only option? Probably not, but I couldn't think of another at the time. I guess my mother thought the whole thing was too twisted for a seven-year-old, though. Especially one who made her own rope necklaces. It wasn't like hanging was something that only happened in a story. Plenty of people were executed that way in 12. You can bet she didn't want me singing it in front of my music class. She probably wouldn't like me doing it here for Pollux even, but at least I'm not - wait, no, I'm wrong. As I glance sideways, I see Castor has been taping me. Everyone is watching me intently. And Pollux has tears running down his cheeks because no doubt my freaky song has dredged up some terrible incident in his life. Great. I sigh and lean back against the trunk. That's when the mockingjays begin their rendition of "The Hanging Tree." In their mouths, it's quite beautiful. Conscious of being filmed, I stand quietly until I hear Cressida call, "Cut!" Plutarch crosses to me, laughing. "Where do you come up with this stuff? No one would believe it if we made it up!" He throws an arm around me and kisses me on the top of my head with a loud smack. "You're golden!" "I wasn't doing it for the cameras," I say. "Lucky they were on, then," he says. "Come on, everybody, back to town!" As we trudge back through the woods, we reach a boulder, and both Gale and I turn our heads in the same direction, like a pair of dogs catching a scent on the wind. Cressida notices and asks what lies that way. We admit, without acknowledging each other, it's our old hunting rendezvous place. She wants to see it, even after we tell her it's nothing really. Nothing but a place where I was happy, I think. Our rock ledge overlooking the valley. Perhaps a little less green than usual, but the blackberry bushes hang heavy with fruit. Here began countless days of hunting and snaring, fishing and gathering, roaming together through the woods, unloading our thoughts while we filled our game bags. This was the doorway to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key. There's no District 12 to escape from now, no Peacekeepers to trick, no hungry mouths to feed. The Capitol took away all of that, and I'm on the verge of losing Gale as well. The glue of mutual need that bonded us so tightly together for all those years is melting away. Dark patches, not light, show in the spaces between us. How can it be that today, in the face of 12's horrible demise, we are too angry to even speak to each other? Gale as good as lied to me. That was unacceptable, even if he was concerned about my well-being. His apology seemed genuine, though. And I threw it back in his face with an insult to make sure it stung. What is happening to us? Why are we always at odds now? It's all a muddle, but I somehow feel that if I went back to the root of our troubles, my actions would be at the heart of it. Do I really want to drive him away? My fingers encircle a blackberry and pluck it from its stem. I roll it gently between my thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, I turn to him and toss it in his direction. "And may the odds - " I say. I throw it high so he has plenty of time to decide whether to knock it aside or accept it. Gale's eyes train on me, not the berry, but at the last moment, he opens his mouth and catches it. He chews, swallows, and there's a long pause before he says " - beever in your favor." But he does say it. Cressida has us sit in the nook in the rocks, where it's impossible not to be touching, and coaxes us into talking about hunting. What drove us out into the woods, how we met, favorite moments. We thaw, begin to laugh a little, as we relate mishaps with bees and wild dogs and skunks. When the conversation turns to how it felt to translate our skill with weapons to the bombing in 8, I stop talking. Gale just says, "Long overdue." By the time we reach the town square, afternoon's sinking into evening. I take Cressida to the rubble of the bakery and ask her to film something. The only emotion I can muster is exhaustion. "Peeta, this is your home. None of your family has been heard of since the bombing. Twelve is gone. And you're calling for a cease-fire?" I look across the emptiness. "There's no one left to hear you." As we stand before the lump of metal that was the gallows, Cressida asks if either of us has ever been tortured. In answer, Gale pulls off his shirt and turns his back to the camera. I stare at the lash marks, and again hear the whistling of the whip, see his bloody figure hanging unconscious by his wrists. "I'm done," I announce. "I'll meet you at the Victor's Village. Something for...my mother." I guess I walked here, but the next thing I'm conscious of is sitting on the floor in front of the kitchen cabinets of our house in the Victor's Village. Meticulously lining ceramic jars and glass bottles into a box. Placing clean cotton bandages between them to prevent breaking. Wrapping bunches of dried flowers. Suddenly, I remember the rose on my dresser. Was it real? If so, is it still up there? I have to resist the temptation to check. If it's there, it will only frighten me all over again. I hurry with my packing. When the cabinets are empty, I rise to find that Gale has materialized in my kitchen. It's disturbing how soundlessly he can appear. He's leaning on the table, his fingers spread wide against the wood grain. I set the box between us. "Remember?" he asks. "This is where you kissed me." So the heavy dose of morphling administered after the whipping wasn't enough to erase that from his consciousness. "I didn't think you'd remember that," I say. "Have to be dead to forget. Maybe even not then," he tells me. "Maybe I'll be like that man in 'The Hanging Tree.' Still waiting for an answer." Gale, who I have never seen cry, has tears in his eyes. To keep them from spilling over, I reach forward and press my lips against his. We taste of heat, ashes, and misery. It's a surprising flavor for such a gentle kiss. He pulls away first and gives me a wry smile. "I knew you'd kiss me." "How?" I say. Because I didn't know myself. "Because I'm in pain," he says. "That's the only way I get your attention." He picks up the box. "Don't worry, Katniss. It'll pass." He leaves before I can answer. I'm too weary to work through his latest charge. I spend the short ride back to 13 curled up in a seat, trying to ignore Plutarch going on about one of his favorite subjects - weapons mankind no longer has at its disposal. High-flying planes, military satellites, cell disintegrators, drones, biological weapons with expiration dates. Brought down by the destruction of the atmosphere or lack of resources or moral squeamishness. You can hear the regret of a Head Gamemaker who can only dream of such toys, who must make do with hovercraft and land-to-land missiles and plain old guns. After dropping off my Mockingjay suit, I go straight to bed without eating. Even so, Prim has to shake me to get me up in the morning. After breakfast, I ignore my schedule and take a nap in the supply closet. When I come to, crawling out from between the boxes of chalk and pencils, it's dinnertime again. I get an extra-large portion of pea soup and am headed back to Compartment E when Boggs intercepts me. "There's a meeting in Command. Disregard your current schedule," he says. "Done," I say. "Did you follow it at all today?" he asks in exasperation. "Who knows? I'm mentally disoriented." I hold up my wrist to show my medical bracelet and realize it's gone. "See? I can't even remember they took my bracelet. Why do they want me in Command? Did I miss something?" "I think Cressida wanted to show you the Twelve propos. But I guess you'll see them when they air," he says. "That's what I need a schedule of. When the propos air," I say. He shoots me a look but doesn't comment further. People have crowded into Command, but they've saved me a seat between Finnick and Plutarch. The screens are already up on the table, showing the regular Capitol feed. "What's going on? Aren't we seeing the Twelve propos?" I ask. "Oh, no," says Plutarch. "I mean, possibly. I don't know exactly what footage Beetee plans to use." "Beetee thinks he's found a way to break into the feed nationwide," says Finnick. "So that our propos will air in the Capitol, too. He's down working on it in Special Defense now. There's live programming tonight. Snow's making an appearance or something. I think it's starting." The Capitol seal appears, underscored by the anthem. Then I'm staring directly into President Snow's snake eyes as he greets the nation. He seems barricaded behind his podium, but the white rose in his lapel is in full view. The camera pulls back to include Peeta, off to one side in front of a projected map of Panem. He's sitting in an elevated chair, his shoes supported by a metal rung. The foot of his prosthetic leg taps out a strange irregular beat. Beads of sweat have broken through the layer of powder on his upper lip and forehead. But it's the look in his eyes - angry yet unfocused - that frightens me the most. "He's worse," I whisper. Finnick grasps my hand, to give me an anchor, and I try to hang on. Peeta begins to speak in a frustrated tone about the need for the cease-fire. He highlights the damage done to key infrastructure in various districts, and as he speaks, parts of the map light up, showing images of the destruction. A broken dam in 7. A derailed train with a pool of toxic waste spilling from the tank cars. A granary collapsing after a fire. All of these he attributes to rebel action. Bam!Without warning, I'm suddenly on television, standing in the rubble of the bakery. Plutarch jumps to his feet. "He did it! Beetee broke in!" The room's buzzing with reaction when Peeta's back, distracted. He has seen me on the monitor. He tries to pick up his speech by moving on to the bombing of a water purification plant, when a clip of Finnick talking about Rue replaces him. And then the whole thing breaks down into a broadcast battle, as the Capitol tech masters try to fend off Beetee's attack. But they are unprepared, and Beetee, apparently anticipating he would not hold on to control, has an arsenal of five- to ten-second clips to work with. We watch the official presentation deteriorate as it's peppered with choice shots from the propos. Plutarch's in spasms of delight and most everybody is cheering Beetee on, but Finnick remains still and speechless beside me. I meet Haymitch's eyes from across the room and see my own dread mirrored back. The recognition that with every cheer, Peeta slips even farther from our grasp. The Capitol seal's back up, accompanied by a flat audio tone. This lasts about twenty seconds before Snow and Peeta return. The set is in turmoil. We're hearing frantic exchanges from their booth. Snow plows forward, saying that clearly the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating, but both truth and justice will reign. The full broadcast will resume when security has been reinstated. He asks Peeta if, given tonight's demonstration, he has any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen. At the mention of my name, Peeta's face contorts in effort. "Katniss...how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you...in Thirteen..." He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. "Dead by morning!" Off camera, Snow orders, "End it!" Beetee throws the whole thing into chaos by flashing a still shot of me standing in front of the hospital at three-second intervals. But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Peeta's attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that's inseparable from Peeta's cry of pain. And his blood as it splatters the tiles.