A/N: This is something I threw together for Prompts in Panem, so it might be a little disjointed. The prompt was supposed to be "Modern Locations," but someone else said that you were not bound to a specific time period for any challenge. The prompt is Europe, but the setting is as canon-compatible as I can make it. Here is an image of the map I used to figure out ocean levels: .edu/~ . Here is a picture that captures a bit of that last scene: /entries/474277/underwater-coliseum.
Peeta thundered through the jungle, the pounding of his feet keeping pace with the rapid beating of his heart. He didn't know why he was running; he felt the sensation of someone pursuing him, but he would also swear that he caught brief flashes of a dark braid flying just ahead of his clear line of sight. Redoubling his efforts in an attempt to catch up with the braid, Peeta ran faster than he would've thought possible given his artificial leg and general fatigue.
He suddenly broke through the jungle and stumbled onto the beach, desperate to stop the scene unfolding in front of him. Katniss's body was clutched in the claws of a Capitol hovercraft, and President Snow was somehow visible to him from inside the machine, leering down at her limp corpse as he operated the claw that would deliver what was left of the Mockingjay into his clutches. Peeta cried out and ran towards the hovercraft…
…only to suddenly awaken to the dark silence of a nearly empty room. Devoid of any identifying features, the room appeared to have been designed to keep its inhabitants in the dark—figuratively and literally. Given the recent puncture marks in his arms and the healing wounds he now felt on his body, Peeta figured that the room had likely once held equipment of some sort but that everything had been removed from it that a two-time Hunger Games veteran could use as a weapon.
Almost everything, he thought, smirking, as he gingerly climbed off the bed and stripped out of his generic hospital gown. When fighting Peacekeepers to rescue Katniss, modesty is not likely to be at the top of my priority list. Realizing that his inner snarky voice sounded like Johanna mildly disturbed him, but he pushed the realization to the back of his mind so that he could do the only thing that truly mattered.
He crept as stealthily across the room as his limited abilities and fatigue allowed, starting in shock when the door actually opened for him when he pressed a button on the right doorpost. His confusion grew when, after cautiously poking his head out the door, he saw nothing but an empty, metallic corridor lined with closed steel doors. Maybe the Capitol is so certain of victory that they haven't even bothered to guard me…
Voices coming from a room down the corridor caused Peeta to stiffen and to twist the hospital gown into an admittedly less-than-ideal weapon. Deciding that he had nothing to lose, Peeta crept down the hall, giving no thought to his nakedness as the drive to rescue Katniss from the owners of those voices overruled all else.
The oddness of the sounds of the voices coming from the room stopped Peeta cold as he realized that he could not understand a word of what the people were saying. I know that the Capitol is full of strange people, but I've never heard anyone speak anything besides Panem. An image of Mags's at times incomprehensible speech flashed through his mind, and for the first time, Peeta wondered if she had been speaking some ancient language forbidden by the Capitol.
Deciding he didn't care what language his—and, presumably, Katniss's—captors spoke, Peeta continued to creep down the hall towards the door that temporarily hid and protected the Capitol lackeys who had thwarted…whatever it was they had thwarted. Peeta still had no idea what had happened in the arena, although he was fairly certain that he would not like the truth once someone got around to enlightening him.
Did Katniss and Haymitch…? He pushed the thought out of his mind, deciding that, whatever agreement Katniss and their mentor had had, Peeta would deal with it after he had rescued Katniss from…wherever they were. Even the brief walk across the room and down the hall had tired him, which probably explained why nobody had bothered to guard him. An oversight they'll pay for, once I've gotten us out of this place.
A tell-tale hum caught his attention; Peeta realized he had last heard that sound when he was on the hovercraft on the way to the arena. His mind whirled as rapidly as his fatigue allowed, formulating a plan; it wasn't a very good plan, but it was the best he could make under the circumstances. See, Lover Boy? This is why we don't let you make the plans, he heard, this time in Haymitch's voice.
Peeta gripped the twisted hospital gown in one hand and palmed the access button with the other, charging into the room in search of any position or weapon that could turn the odds in his favor. He stopped in shock when the bruised and battered face of the man before him came into focus. As his eyes took in the oddly-dressed people sitting around a table, Peeta realized that he was involved in something much bigger than he'd ever suspected.
"You always have been good at making an entrance, Peeta," the beaten man said just before Peeta's fatigue caught up with him and made him collapse to the floor.
"C'mon, Sweetheart," Haymitch grated from the end of a long tunnel. "The boy will kill me when we get him back if you're dead."
Can pawns eat? Katniss wondered, the morphling filling her mind with images of a strange Capitol game she'd seen once involving kings and queens and horses and, of course, the simply-shaped pawns. She didn't even make an effort to move as the drugs pulled her under again.
Katniss curled into a ball after Gale left her after telling her the truth about 12. The sheer size of the loss threatened to pull her under, but she knew that she would never be able to heal if she didn't get well enough to see what was left of her home with her own eyes.
Since when do I want to get better? The words rattled around in her drug-addled mind, finally shimmering into multiple images that firmed her resolve. Peeta's pearl. A white rose. Her father's bow. Peeta's locket. Prim…
Katniss once again fell asleep, but she woke up for what felt like the first time the next day.
The purple, printed schedule stared up at Katniss, taunting her with its rigid timetable. Even the thought of attending breakfast with a bunch of other people filled Katniss with trepidation, and she thought longingly of the cave-like security of the supply closet she'd passed on the way to her shared quarters. She glimpsed at the schedule on her arm, glared at the clock's displayed "7:25," and absentmindedly fiddled with the "mentally disoriented" band on her wrist. As she contemplated the last item, a small smirk formed on her face. Let 'em send me a parachute if they can find me…
Peeta was so absorbed in his work that he didn't hear the man approach.
"You've made a few changes to your version of…The Birth of Venus, I believe it's called," the man said.
Peeta blushed as he came back to himself and truly looked at the canvas before him for the first time. The original painting was considered by his hosts to be a great masterpiece that they had fortunately managed to save when the world turned upside down, and Peeta knew that he was capable of recreating it almost flawlessly had that been his intention. But it was my intention—until I actually started painting, and then I couldn't resist…
"Our hosts felt that giving me a chance to paint would help me manage my nightmares, and once they got a look at a few of my arena paintings…"
"They decided that your abilities were being wasted on painting horrors and were better suited for creating beauty."
"Well, you always have had an eye for beauty, haven't you?"
"As have you, Peeta, which is obvious since your Venus is even more stunning than the original…and that strategically-placed dark braid is a true work of art."
"Thanks," Peeta managed, trying not to blush again.
"That guy with the wings bears a striking resemblance to Finnick Odair…And is that Annie Cresta in his arms? "
Peeta groaned as he realized that he'd made further revisions to the original masterpiece, but at least they weren't as embarrassing as…
"And 'Venus's' bow—not that I knew she had one—is conveniently placed over her—"
"Yes, Mr. Mellark," a cultured voice interrupted, "your talent—and your creativity—are obvious. Both could be helpful to us and our cause—if you're willing to help us."
The jocular mood evaporated instantly, and Peeta's demeanor subtly changed to reflect his perception of the threat. I'm tired of being a piece in someone else's games…
"Easy, lad," the cultured man said. "There's no need for that amount of tension. We've told you our situation and how, by helping us, you are helping yourself—not to mention the Mockingjay."
Peeta's shoulders slumped in reaction to the ease with which Senator Jacobus saw through his posturing; he also knew that Jacobus was right—at least, to an extent. But to what extent? And how do I know if I can trust him, much less the other Union members?
Deliberately setting his brush down, Peeta looked Jacobus in the eye.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Peeta blurted out, wincing at the failure of his usually golden tongue.
"Because we both—we all—want the same thing," Senator Jacobus said, looking for once as old as Peeta knew the senator to be. "Freedom."
Katniss watched Peeta's interview with Caesar Flickerman with a desperate ferocity she had neither the desire nor ability to examine at the moment. She stared at the screen as if it held the answers to all of her life's greatest problems, as if by looking at the screen hard enough, she could save Peeta from the Capitol's cruelty.
Not that he appears to have been cruelly treated; of course, nobody can understand the Capitol's ability to conceal the truth like a Victor…
As usual, Peeta seemed to be everything that was good and charming, especially in the experienced interviewing hands of Flickerman. She watched avidly as Peeta explained life in the arena, his perceptions of what had happened at the end of the Quell, and his impassioned plea for a cease-fire.
Well, that's going to go over well, Katniss mused as the predictable mutterings commenced behind her. While she didn't understand Peeta's game, she couldn't shake a feeling of wrongness about the whole setup. A wrongness beyond the obvious "Peeta is being held captive in the Capitol" thing…
Without waiting for dismissal, she stalked out of the room, needing time and space to think. She talked to Gale, who always seemed to help her understand strategy, plotting, and all of those other political things. Gale, who explained Peeta's probable motives respectfully even though he still likely saw Peeta as a rival.
After talking to Prim, Katniss once again began formulating a plan to save and protect Peeta. She knew that many people would not like what she was planning, but they would just have to deal with it. Just like old times…
When she confronted Coin in the arena of Command, she showed no fear, once again relying on her anger to get her what she wanted. Not that she cared how she procured Peeta's pardon, although she did wonder when she had gone from having no hope of Peeta's eventual return to planning ahead for it. Maybe when I watched Peeta's interview, that interview that seemed off somehow…
Peeta's fists clenched in anger as the last of the interview he'd seen courtesy of Intel ended. For a moment, he wondered how the Capitol could present such a life-like image of himself to all of Panem, but then he remembered the conversation they had had with Beetee after Katniss and Finnick had emerged from the jabberjay section of the clock.
Finnick had asked Beetee if it were possible for the Capitol to manipulate sound so that they could produce fake screams that sounded like the real thing, and Beetee had replied that the technique was so easy that District 3 children learned a similar technique in school. If District 3 children can learn to fake voices, then surely the Capitol's gamemakers can fake someone who's actually made multiple public appearances on camera.
But why? To what end?
Senator Jacobus appeared as if Peeta's questions had summoned him. For some reason, the senator had taken Peeta under his wing and had tried to teach him some of the finer points of diplomacy. While Peeta had good instincts and could often talk himself out of a problem, he realized that he could learn much from an experienced statesman like Senator Jacobus—assuming, of course, that he could trust the good senator.
"Why do you think the Capitol has taken this course of action, Peeta?"
"To strike at the rebellion," Peeta replied, trying think of all the possible reasons. "To weaken the rebels' position. To lower morale. To discredit me in the eyes of…everyone, really, especially those in 13."
"All of those are valid reasons, but there are two reasons— two main, important reasons—that you have not yet grasped."
Peeta tried to think like Snow, tried to see everything—including the new information Peeta had learned from his hosts—from the Panem president's perspective. He thought of the president's attempts at quelling the rebellion during the Victory Tour, and one answer immediately came to mind.
"Katniss," he muttered. "They think that Katniss loves me, so they figure that presenting me as a Capitol prisoner—even a well-fed one—will hurt Katniss, perhaps to the point of becoming useless to the rebellion altogether. Good thing for us they don't know the truth about our relationship or they would kill Faux Peeta immediately."
"Right—except for that last part, which I cannot, of course, verify. There is another point you could attach to that point—a subpoint, if you will. Would they think torturing Katniss by torturing you would always be enough or would they eventually expect a greater return on their investment?"
"They know Katniss to be a woman of action and thus would expect her to…do something, I guess. To mount some sort of rescue mission or something. That actually sounds like a very Katniss thing to do, regardless of whether she loves me or not. She hates owing anybody anything, and I'll never be able to convince her she doesn't owe me…"
"Right," Jacobus said, bringing the discussion back on track. "So they have presented you as a Capitol prisoner to ultimately get at Katniss, prompting some sort of misbegotten rescue attempt that would inevitably fail, resulting in, at worst, killed and/or captured rebels and, at best, the Mockingjay herself. What else? Think about what we told you about the Capitol's plans for us."
"The cease-fire," Peeta said, making the connection. "Their preoccupation with laying down weapons, with preserving humanity, with discrediting me in 13. They want 13—and their weapons—intact, and what better way to achieve that than to try to get them to lay their weapons down in a gesture of peace? Not that the intel you've given me would lead me to believe that they would accept such an offer…"
"No, my boy," Jacobus said, sighing, "Alma Coin would sooner become a Capitol fashion designer than stop the rebellion. She'll stop at nothing to seize control of all of Panem, and then…"
"And the alternative is letting Snow stay in power, take over District 13—and their nukes—and stop by for a friendly little chat during tea time."
"Well said, lad! You're even picking up a few of our sayings. Not that we still use all of them…what was once called Britain or the United Kingdom was hit the hardest when the oceans rose. Almost everyone left, everyone but a few stout stalwarts that refused to come down from their mountains. The rest of them just moved across the pond, kept calm, and carried on because they knew that's what one has to do in times of trial and tribulation."
Peeta understood the message in Jacobus's words, as much as he did not want to. He'd had no desire to become any sort of symbol for these people he still barely knew, but the thought of the Capitol turning him into a mutt, a weapon against the rebellion—against Katniss—galvanized him into action.
"I'll do it. I'll be your Mockingjay," Peeta said, eyes blazing as a large part of his plan clicked into place. "But I have some conditions."
The nightlock pill weighed heavily on Katniss's shoulder as she contemplated everything she had learned in such a short period of time. She thought wistfully of Cinna, wishing she could have the reassurance of having one person she could trust implicitly. Besides Gale, of course; but he's always so busy…
Not that she had any room to judge there; actually doing what her wrist schedule said ate up a lot of valuable time. At least she got to hunt with him again, to spend time alone with him…Not that I want to spend time alone with him…like that…
That awkward feeling returned to Katniss, which reminded her of the wrongness she had felt about Peeta's interview, which brought to mind her recent exchange with Haymitch, which…argh! Katniss tuned out the rest of the discussion around her, her mind focusing on the truth about District 2, about the nuclear weaponry and numerous hovercrafts at 13's disposal, and the strange yet oddly exhilarating idea of that government—a republic, Haymitch had called it—that could lead to a new age for Panem.
They descended to District 8, and Katniss hoped she would be able to give the film crew enough to get Coin off her back—temporarily, at least. She scowled as she remembered her lackluster performance as a caged, on-set Mockingjay that had landed her in 8.
Coin was right; they should've rescued the boy first.
"The sad thing about that interview is that I don't even know just how right I am," Peeta quipped, trying to make light of the interview he and the others in Union Command had just seen.
In the interest of expediency, Command had shown both Katniss's "You Burn with Us" propo and "Peeta's" latest interview with Caesar Flickerman back to back in what had been the least enjoyable double feature Peeta had seen since those desperate, Games-watching days right before the beginning of the Quell. While Peeta had been relieved to see Katniss looking as well as she could be expected to look given the circumstances, he hated that she—that both of them, to be honest—were still pieces in other people's games.
"The fire is catching, and we'll all be lucky if the whole world doesn't burn as a result," Senator Florin said in heavily-accented Pan—English, Peeta corrected himself.
Many of the Union's senators were attending this meeting due to its importance; many of them knew the effects these two videos would have on their Mockingjay. Not that they've gotten much return on that investment; now that they have me, they don't know what to do with me—especially since they've yet to fulfill my biggest condition of being the Mockingjay.
"And how much longer do you think both sides will hold out?" Peeta said. "The bottom line is that we have a small window of opportunity, a window that is shrinking with each passing day. The Capitol is only going to be able to get away with their ruse for so long, and Katniss…the rebels are going to make their move soon, too. And when they do...But if you do what I suggested, carry out the plan we made, we might have a chance of swaying enough people in Panem to rise up against both sides, to speak—and act—in support of a better form of government that relies not on dictators and tyranny but on liberty, on freedom."
"The Mockingjay is right," Jacobus said, ignoring the slight grumbling that accompanied his declaration. "His plan is risky, but the reward should we succeed could reshape the world for the better."
"Or ignite a multiple-front war!" another accented voice yelled across the room.
"The Capitol, the districts, and 13 agreeing to fight together against the Union? The odds are definitely in our favor," Peeta replied.
"But what if they don't want to cooperate with us? What if they don't trust us? You seem to be a reasonably trusting individual, yet you even now do not entirely trust us," Senator Florin said.
Peeta smiled grimly and said, "Two Hunger Games, a Victory Tour, a Capitol impersonation, and deception by multiple people I considered to be friends will do that to you."
"I move that we call a vote in the Senate tomorrow on implementing the Mockingjay's plan as soon as possible," Senator Jacobus said.
The motion was rapidly seconded; even those who weren't in favor of the plan were swift to okay anything that would put an end to its discussion. Not that Peeta cared how or why his plan was approved, although he had to honestly admit to himself that he was not sure whether the plan's success or failure scared him more.
Katniss carefully placed the last bundle of wrapped flowers in the box, gently bringing the lid down to avoid smashing them. She remained on her knees near the last cabinet, her mind reliving memory after memory. Images of her dead district fought for dominance, but she ruthlessly fought them into submission, determined to not fall apart in front of…who? Who's going to see?
An image of Snow intruded into her mind, Snow and his Capitol technology that seemed to know everything and nothing about everyone. Irrational or not, Katniss could not dismiss the notion that the evil, white-haired dictator of Panem would somehow know that she'd broken down in her home (house, she corrected) in Victor's Village. And I won't give him that satisfaction.
She stood up and stretched, her muscles rejoicing in their new-found freedom. Freedom? What's that? Katniss darkly mused as she turned around—and saw Peeta standing in the doorway, a pleading expression on his face. She heard the unmistakable and familiar sound of Gale shouting before everything went black.
Peeta and Jacobus walked along part of the Piazza di Pace, their eyes ostensibly focusing on the various statues and monuments erected to pay tribute to some of the European Union's greatest citizens—from both the distant and more recent past. Wistfully remembering a time only a few months ago when he had looked at this place with wonder, Peeta contemplated the enormity of what they—what he—had done.
"If your plan succeeds, we may well all end up with statues here someday," Jacobus mused.
"I would settle for my friends not dying and for them to be able to live in a free republic."
"Isn't "friends" a rather liberal term in regards to some of them?"
"I thought you were on my side."
They passed a magnificent fountain that Jacobus claimed had been saved from their greatest city before it had been claimed by the rising sea; Peeta also remembered the legend that promised anyone who threw a coin into the fountain a return trip to that city someday. A small smile formed on Peeta's face as he remembered the most extraordinary thing Jacobus had shown him, a place that he desperately wanted to show Katniss. And Finnick, too. And Annie. Okay, maybe not Annie, he amended, remembering her Games.
"Finished plotting your world take-over yet?"
Peeta started as he realized he had gotten lost in thought.
"I'm just thinking of ways to convince Katniss that my brain hasn't been hijacked by the Capitol, that all of this—he gestured around the piazza—is real, and that she should help us remake Panem as a republic—with a warm relationship with the European Union, of course."
"You do not want much, do you, lad?"
Peeta sighed. "Only what I've wanted my whole life."
"Well, that place is—at least in my humble opinion—the most romantic spot in the world; I could tell you stories about me and my own Pertelote…Come, now, Peeta; I was young once, too."
"But I didn't…I mean, that's not…I just, um, think…I think she would really, um…"
"That, my lad, is how a revolution dies," Jacobus said, a twinkle in his eyes. "You'd better recover the use of your tongue before long, because you're going to need it to convince a few of your…friends to help you. In all honesty, I think Katniss is not going to be the hardest person to persuade in your merry little group."
Katniss awoke to darkness and silence, and her memory scrambled for where she was and why. The Quell? The Capitol? District 13? Peeta! She sat up in bed, her last waking memory pushing its way to the front of her mind. Packing up my cabinets, Peeta in the doorway, Gale shouting…She shook her head as if the action would shake off her confusion, but her puzzlement merely grew instead. The room told her nothing about her whereabouts; it wasn't furnished with much, but it didn't have that tainted, wrong Capitol feel, either.
The door whooshed open, and Katniss leapt to her feet in a defensive posture. Peeta strode confidently through the door, and behind him came…
"Cinna?" Katniss croaked from disbelief and the dryness of her throat.
This is a Capitol trick. I've gone mad. They've captured me and have planted shiny memories in my mind. This is not real. Not Real…Get a grip, Katniss; is Cinna and Peeta's magical appearance really any stranger than what happened when you woke up after the Quarter Quell?
Katniss noted with amusement that both Cinna and Peeta stood at a respectful distance, neither wanting to be the first to approach such an obviously confused and defensive version of herself. Of course, since Katniss couldn't be sure that she was actually with Cinna and Peeta, their distance was welcome.
"Is one of you going to tell me what's going on or are we going to stand here and stare at each other all day?"
Peeta's face broke out in a goofy grin and he said, "I've missed you, Katniss."
Katniss directed one of her best scowls at Peeta, but the action only made him smile more broadly. Rolling her eyes, she decided to get this potentially awkward conversation started herself.
"Okay; I'll help you get started. 'I would love to tell you what's going on, Katniss. You see, I haven't really been kidnapped and tortured by the Capitol, and the way that happened was…' Feel free to jump in any time."
"Well, I was picked up by a hovercraft when the Quell arena blew up, but it was a European Union craft that hooked me before anyone could see what was going on. They wanted to rescue others, but nobody was close enough to the hovercraft for them to get anyone else out in time. So they rescued me and brought me…okay, so I don't really remember much about that part, but they brought me here to what basically functions as Europe's capitol."
"Um, Peeta? I'm assuming you were speaking Panem, but if you're trying to convince me that you haven't gone insane, you're off to a terrible start."
"I'll try, Katniss, but you're going to hate me for the amount of information I'm going to dump on you."
"Don't worry, Peeta; I'm used to that kind of thing."
"Right. So, according to Jacobus—one of the European senators and my mentor—Europe as a whole was hit pretty hard when the sea levels rose. Apparently the sea rose high everywhere, not just around Panem—"
"Where are we, Peeta? How far from 12 are we?"
"Across the ocean—"
"Across the ocean?!"
"I know this is overwhelming—"
"So let me get this straight. You have kidnapped me from Panem, have flown me across the ocean, and have left my family and friends unaware of my fate."
"Of course not, Katniss! I didn't kidnap you; I rescued you. And your family and…well…some of your friends will find out where they are as soon as they wake up."
Katniss's fists clenched as the full import of his words struck her. Just like I want to strike Peeta…
"Okay, let me try this again. You…rescued me from a perfectly safe place, flew me across the ocean, and kidnapped multiple people on my behalf. How did I do that time."
"But 13 isn't safe! Coin is actually planning on taking control of Panem and then trying to take over Europe, too—assuming, of course, that Snow doesn't crush 13, steal their weapons, and set his sights on the people he's wanted to enslave for so long."
"You're not making any sense, Peeta. Cinna, could you please do your normal "restoring sanity to chaos" thing?"
Cinna smiled that reassuring grin I'd missed so much, restoring my faith in what passed for normal in my life. Before smashing that faith into a million pieces.
"Peeta's actually telling the truth; I was rescued by a European agent after my beating I received before you went into the arena, and I have seen much of their extraordinary society myself. We can learn so much from them and can finally have a government that will give all people equal voices."
Katniss sat back down on the bed, her mind reeling.
"Next, you're going to tell me that you've agreed to be some sort of European Mockingjay that will unite the people of Panem in support of the European cause or something."
Cinna and Peeta's shared, uneasy glance triggered a headache that began to pound away behind her temples. Ignoring the building headache, she stood up, stalked towards the two men, and got in their faces.
"You are going to tell me everything, and you are not leaving anything out. I want to understand why I've been brought who knows how far to do who knows what for who knows who—"
"Katniss, you're not making sense," Peeta said. "Maybe we'd better start back at the beginning."
Her fingers twitched as she imagined a bow and arrow in her hands, but she forced herself to be calm so she could finally get Peeta and Cinna's versions of the truth.
"Well, that went about as well as I expected," Cinna said to Peeta as they walked down the hall away from Katniss's room.
Peeta simply nodded his head, his mind, as usual, already anticipating his next conversation. He hoped that this one—or two, technically—would go better than the first, but the occupants of this room tended to be more easy-going than Katniss.
Upon opening the door, Peeta was immediately wrapped up in a crushing hug and was greeted with a shrill squeal of excitement. A head of blond hair pushed itself into his chest and a blinding smile beamed up at him from Prim's tilted-up face.
"It's true! See, Mom? I told you the doctor was telling the truth. Peeta's here, the Capitol's lying, and my arm is going to stay schedule-free."
Mrs. Everdeen gave Peeta a more subdued but genuine smile. "I'm glad to see you looking so well, Peeta; you look happier and healthier than I've seen you in months. Of course, given the alternative…"
"I've seen my supposed 'interviews' with Caesar; the Capitol is quite good at image manipulation."
"Or they could've altered someone to look like you so they would actually have a body…what? I'm not as dumb as a lot of people seem to think I am."
"I know, Prim; we just wanted to check on you—on the both of you—to make sure you're okay. As soon as the doctors make sure you are free of any health issues, you will be pretty much given free reign over this building. You'll have a lot of choices, a lot of options for what to do in the future, but for now…"
"Why are we here, Peeta?" Mrs. Everdeen asked in a tired voice.
"Because this is the safest place for you to be," Peeta answered earnestly. "You obviously don't want to be in the Capitol, 12 is…not an option, and 13…my sources tell me that District 13 is not safe for anyone close to Katniss due to Alma Coin's agenda."
Prim's face creased into a familiar scowl, but only for an instant; to Peeta, her face seemed to reject the scowl as unnatural.
"I'm assuming you'll give us more to work with later, Peeta, but I trust you," Prim said, nodding once. "I saw what Katniss became when you weren't there, and…I'm really glad you're here, Peeta."
"Thanks, Prim; I'm glad we're all here, too. If you like it here enough, you might want to stay…but that type of decision is for another day."
Prim gave Peeta another hug, and he and Cinna left the room.
"Sorry I dragged you along for that since you didn't get to do much, but I figured you'd want to meet Katniss's family."
Cinna just smiled and nodded; Peeta turned his thoughts to the next conversation.
Finnick's response when Peeta walked through the door was similar to Katniss's; Peeta felt the odd sense of comfort that could only be found in the presence of another Victor. As with Katniss, Peeta and Cinna gave Finnick time to think through the implications of their presence in his room. He took in their relaxed yet vigilant stances, their well-fed frames, and the lack of weapons; Peeta recognized from experience the moment Finnick stood down.
"I know you have a lot of questions, but I'll tell you the most important things up front," Peeta said. "We rescued Annie from the Capitol; she is in critical condition but is expected to make a reasonably full recovery. As soon as the doctor has cleared you of any medical issues, you will be allowed to join her in her room for as long as you want; you are not a prisoner here, although I'd advise against wandering around before someone can give you a tour."
Peeta watched Finnick's face as it ran the gamut from suspicion to joy to concern to…Peeta wasn't sure, exactly; Finnick was likely feeling a lot of things at once.
"Peeta…where are we? And why?"
"We are across the ocean in what is left of Europe, specifically on a narrow strip of land that was once called Italy. Their districts are the remnants of old countries, all of which have maintained some of their traditions and languages. We are not too far from the sea; the Italians wanted to remain as close as they could to a great, ancient city called 'Rome.'
"As for why we are here, the European Union—what these countries call themselves when speaking of their alliance—was gracious enough to rescue Cinna and me from the Capitol right before and right after the Quell, respectively. They learned that both the Capitol—specifically President Snow—and District 13—or, at least, President Coin—wanted to take over Panem before setting their sights on Europe. Needless to say, the Europeans were not too happy with either plan, so they've taken measures to ensure their continued freedom."
"And we're part of those measures."
"Exactly. They could really use our help, especially in terms of convincing Panem to set up a republic governed by elected officials rather than tyrannical dictators."
"So we're basically in another arena."
Peeta hesitated. "To an extent, although you will only have to contribute as much as you want to give. This mass breakout was my largest condition I presented the senate with in terms of being—as Katniss called it—'some sort of European Mockingjay.' We wanted to take away the leverage that the Capitol and 13 had over Katniss, so we rescued several of you from both places."
"And here I didn't even know that I was being rescued at the time…and you really need to do something about the décor of this room."
"Well, Finnick, you can thank Peeta for that," Cinna said. "When he came to on the European Union hovercraft, he assumed he'd been captured by the Capitol and thus decided he was going to rescue Katniss with the only weapon he could find in his room—his own hospital gown."
"You mounted a naked rescue mission and I missed it? I'm so jealous. I'll bet Katniss will be jealous, too, when I tell her about it."
"Don't make me convince the doctor you have a terrible medical condition that you won't ever get over," Peeta said, grinning.
"Peeta, don't make me regret restarting your heart."
"Of course I won't," Peeta reassured Finnick, his grin faltering as he remembered who he was supposed to talk to next. "I actually want you to be on our side."
Peeta had become great friends with Cinna and was always glad of his presence, but for the first time today, he was simply glad to have another guy on hand just in case the inhabitant of the next room he was visiting decided to use him as a practicing dummy. If Peeta could justify talking to Gale Hawthorne at a later date—say, 20 years later—he would, but since Annie and Johanna were still unconscious, he didn't really have any good excuses for avoiding this inevitable confrontation.
"Hey, Mellark; I was wondering when you'd have the guts to show up. And you brought a friend…what was it? Ziggy? Sissy? Oh, yeah; Cinna. You're the one that dressed Katniss up in those outfits so she could be paraded in front of all of Panem before being forced to slaughter other kids. It looks like you've recently been promoted, though."
"Hello, Gale; I could make a wry remark about how you're just as charming as ever, but that wouldn't solve anything. Besides, unlike some of the other times you've been angry at me, I actually deserve your anger this time, at least a little. Rescuing you was not part of the plan, although I should've anticipated that you wouldn't leave Katniss unprotected for long. But you were there, and we were there, and I'd given them strict orders not to harm you under any circumstances…"
"That was big of you, Mellark; I'm sure you did that out of the goodness of your heart. Well, that and that you knew Katniss would never forgive you for killing me, even indirectly."
Peeta grimaced; this conversation was going exactly as he expected it to go. Still, he figured he should at least try to salvage it for Katniss's sake.
"I know you have a lot of questions, but they are likely to be a bit different from those of the others we rescued. A man named Senator Jacobus will visit you after we leave; he will give you access to as much of the intelligence that will explain why you're here as he can. He is also an excellent conversationalist who is well-versed in European government—"
"Eurowhat?"
"Oh, sorry; I guess I did kind of leave out that part where I was supposed to tell you that we're all the way across the ocean in what is left of Europe…how forgetful of me."
Peeta gave Gale what was supposed to be his most pleasing smile, but it didn't seem to have the desired effect on Gale.
"Are you going to keep that ridiculous expression on your face or are you going to explain to me why you chose to 'rescue' me from the exceedingly dangerous world of District 13? I mean, what could possibly be safer than living in a maze of underground bunkers surrounded by people who have been training to be soldiers for most of their lives?"
"Living across the ocean from a continent that will, one way or another, continue to be ruled by a vicious tyrant bent on world conquest?"
Peeta was one of less than a handful of people who had survived two Hunger Games, yet the glare aimed at him made Peeta consider lying to the doctor about Gale, this time for real.
Katniss pelted through the woods, the snarling muttations nipping at her heels. Some of them resembled the dead tributes just as they had in her Games, but there was also a snowy-white one that reeked of roses and blood leading the pack. A mutt with an unnaturally uniform gray coat joined the chase, its severe face broadcasting its hatred of her for all of Panem to see. Gloss, Brutus, Cashmere, and Enobaria's mutts joined the chase, the pack growing steadily closer to Katniss the faster she tried to run.
Somehow, Katniss knew that her salvation rested just beyond the tree line…oh, yeah; the Cornucopia would soon be in reach. She broke through the clearing, saw the Cornucopia, bolted towards it…only to be met by a new pack of muttations running at her from their hiding places within the Cornucopia. A blond mutt and a black mutt led the pack, each one racing the other in a quest for dominance. A striking, reddish-blond mutt ran beside two smaller, dark-haired mutts. Two small, blond mutts and a brown mutt rounded out the pack…of what Katniss recognized as her closest friends.
Katniss continued to run towards the Cornucopia, futilely hoping that her friends would change sides by time she reached them. Seam gray and bright blue eyes filled her vision two mutts crashed into her chest and drove her to the ground—
The sheets twisted around Katniss so tightly that she at first thought she'd been strapped to the bed after falling asleep. Listening carefully, she realized that she had, miraculously, not disturbed her family's rest. Her eyes landed on the chair near her bed and her eyes flew open as she realized there was someone sitting in it. No, not someone, she realized. Just…a change of clothes?
She silently climbed out of bed and picked up each piece of clothing; whoever had chosen the comfortable pants, forest green shirt, and her father's hunting jacket obviously knew her well. But what is that jacket doing here? Who has laid out these clothes for me? Is this another dream? Is this real or not real? Deciding that she didn't care, Katniss quickly got dressed and opened the door without any resistance.
While Katniss had learned much about European government and Panem politics, she had learned significantly less about mundane facts like where, exactly they were and where, exactly she could go to outrun the nightmares. And since they haven't told me, I'm going to find out myself.
She took off without a second thought, relying on her instincts to choose the right direction. Of course, I still haven't ruled out the option that this is just another dream…Katniss ran for what felt like a long time, but the night had taken on such an otherworldly quality that she couldn't have said for sure how long she ran.
Eventually, she found what looked like a front door and ran through it, staring in shock at the city around her. Katniss had experienced the Capitol, but this city was intimidating in a different way. Her eyes were drawn to a copse of trees in what appeared to be a garden, so she followed her instincts there.
As they often did in such situations, her instincts served her well. A familiar blond form was sitting on a bench, so she, naturally—for what else would she do in a dream?—sat down beside him. His blue eyes were brilliant even in the moonlight, and his casual confidence made her feel safe.
"I knew you'd come," Peeta said. "You'd have a nightmare or you'd feel caged and you'd run. Mockingjays were meant to fly free."
"Am I free?"
"Freer than you've ever been before."
"Prove it."
"Okay."
Peeta stood up and motioned for Katniss to follow him, walking towards what looked like a sort of train station. Bypassing the normal, mostly-deserted terminals, Peeta led the way towards one near the back of the station, one that nobody was trying to enter. The man in the booth appeared to be standing guard rather than selling tickets or waiting to assist riders; Katniss's analysis was proven correct when the guard would not let Peeta pass until he had handed over some type of plastic card.
Katniss expected the guard to tell her that she could not follow Peeta without her own card, but the guard just waved her through the terminal without a second glance. The train was nowhere near as opulent as the one they had ridden to the Capitol and on their Victory Tour, but the association still brought back painful memories.
"What's an adventure without a train ride?" Peeta asked, picking up on my mood.
"Or a good, adventurous dream that will soon turn into a nightmare," Katniss said, agreeing.
"You think this is a dream?"
"I don't even know what's real and what's not real anymore."
"Don't you want to know where we're going?"
"I'll find out eventually; besides, I doubt you're taking me anywhere that dangerous."
"So you still trust me?"
"Yes, kidnapping aside."
"Rescuing. I rescued you."
"Whatever. You rescued a bunch of other people, too, only two of which were in actual danger."
"You were all in danger; you just couldn't see it. I always figured that was one of the most terrible parts of being a mentor, you know; sitting up there in the command center, watching your tribute walk into danger and knowing you can do nothing."
"Don't go all Haymitch on me, Peeta; I don't think I could handle that."
"You're not going to be able to handle where we're going, either; don't worry, though, since it's completely safe."
"I can't wait."
"And you won't have to; we're here."
As if on cue, the train gently shuddered to a halt; Peeta led the way off the train, smiling at Katniss in reassurance. The dimness of the lighting outside the train told Katniss that they were likely underground; she realized that the train had likely gone underground as well but that Peeta had distracted her from noticing during the ride.
The area appeared deserted; Katniss saw nobody approaching or watching them. Not that she believed for a moment that they were truly alone. I don't know that I'll ever feel any sense of security or privacy anywhere ever again…
Peeta walked towards an enormous steel door, pressed his palm to the illuminated scanner on the doorpost, and stood back as the door silently swished open. He walked inside, and Katniss followed him into what was obviously and enormously high chamber. Not that she could see much of anything beyond the next few feet in front of them; thankfully, Peeta had been here before and thus walked confidently to some sort of computer a few feet away from the entrance.
He pressed a few buttons, and the room was flooded with a dim, shimmery light that reminded Katniss of the way the fish had looked when Finnick and she had gone diving in the Quell. That's exactly what I'm looking at, she realized, looking up in awe. The lights are shining in this…arena, I think…through water.
Katniss could see what appeared to be the ruins of a once-great structure, its arches and seats bruised and battered through the ages. The entire inside of the structure seemed to be surrounded by a glass dome (or maybe a forcefield), but schools of fish and other ocean life swam around beyond the barrier. The arena itself was not protected by the dome. Perhaps the Europeans could only make a dome or bubble so big…
She looked at Peeta, whose face-splitting grin somehow managed to be both smug and sweet. Katniss was still not happy with the whole "being kidnapped (oh, excuse me; rescued) and taken across an ocean" thing, but the dream-like quality of the moment—not to mention the location—made being angry with Peeta difficult.
"So…" Katniss said, gesturing around her.
"This place was once called the Colosseum, and it was one of the greatest structures in the city known as Rome. When the seas rose, Rome was flooded, but the Italians—and the rest of the Europeans—tried to save as much of the city as they could through various methods. Untold years after Rome was completely submerged, a group of people with a vision decided to apply newly-developed technology to allow limited access to some of these great structures—those that were still standing, anyway."
"So you just hopped on a train in the middle of the night and decided to come for a visit?"
"Of course not; I cleared this with Senator Jacobus earlier."
"And I'll bet he gave you some romantic tips or something, didn't he?"
Peeta's blush confirmed Katniss's suspicions.
"I can't believe it, Peeta. You kidnap me…sorry; you rescue me, fly me who knows how many miles from my home, and then, when I can't sleep, you take me to some high-class, European slag heap."
Katniss rolled her eyes at Peeta's expression. How is this the same guy cunning enough to help me survive two Hunger Games?
"I'm only kidding. Mostly, anyway. This place is amazing; what did they use it for?"
Peeta's silence unnerved Katniss a bit; when he spoke, he confirmed her suspicions.
"They used it as an arena," he said softly. "This place could hold around 50,000 citizens of Rome; everyone from the richest to the poorest came to watch games at the Colosseum. Gladiators fought to the death, both against other gladiators and fearsome animals. There were also races, hunts, and plays, but nothing held as much thrill as these battles to the death. The games were all they thought of, all they wanted, all they craved.
"One Roman poet claimed that all the people wanted was—in the terms of their ancient language—panem et circenses, or 'bread and circuses.' The Roman state used to give out grain allowances to the people, keeping them fed just well enough to survive. So they gave up their political power, their voices, for a few scoops of grain and bloody entertainment."
"And now, everything's underwater anyway," Katniss whispered.
Katniss stood next to Peeta, looking at the amazing structure submerged in the same type of water Finnick loved so much. I don't know what I'm going to do here, but I do know who I'll likely do it with. She clasped Peeta's hand in her own without realizing she had done so and continued to stare up at the sea.