Rated Adult for Language,Minimal Violence and Eventual Sexual situations.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Reviews are appreciated and loved.
The Companion
Chapter One
The smooth flow of the train is constant, contrasting the ever changing rocky world outside of the window. The clear glass is cool against his forehead as he watches the leaves of district eleven fly up into the air riding the waves of the wind. They remind him of fairy play from one of the books he remembers reading when he was younger. The memory feels almost foreign to him; the life he had before he was fifteen is now faded and worn. It's difficult for him to remember the boy he once was, but there's times he catches glimpses of a younger Peeta Mellark, and all he feels is numb. The initial step to becoming a companion was to enhance the traits he had that would solidify his presence, his charm, wit, and the ease he had when dealing with people, a manipulation which kept his stomach relatively full when he was forced to hustle and con to survive, further more ensure his prosperity.
Others like his distrust, and pride were the ones he had to lessen or leave behind entirely. Quietly he sighs, as the rich colors of the orchards blend into sleek metal, and mineral tones, cold and unfeeling, an exact reflection of the city itself. He closes his eyes thankful for the warm tones before the numbness sets in again, a needed temperament when dealing with the Capitol and its inhabitants. It had been almost five years since he had been making the trip from district twelve to the Capitol, the city at the center of all the districts which surrounded it accordingly.
He enjoyed taking the scenic route to travel through the agriculture district; the mazes of the orchards gave him a sense of symbolism, a reminder of the tangled parts of his identity he had to constantly unravel to be able to truly breathe. Peeta wore many masks, and at times he wondered if he had ever been anything authentic, anything pure, something true. He opened his eyes slowly, the cool condensation from the train window seeping through the layers of glass and plastic to spread over his skin.
There was one moment in his life where he felt content, a place with a girl where he would read to her, or hold her after she had been beaten by one of the home mothers, usually her nightmares were the reason for his embraces. He could still see her deep grey eyes looking at him through the window of the door, her hand pressed up against the glass, where he would cover hers with his. Even at thirteen he knew he loved her, counted the seconds before he was able to sneak back into the orphanage to care for her.
Peeta had loved a girl with so much of himself, and he never knew her name. Not once during the three years he had visited her, or kept her company had they talked of names, neither saw the reason behind such a thing, because when you're an orphaned district child in the Capitol your worth is less than an animal fattened for the slaughter.
He had escaped when he was twelve, finding that hustling on the streets was a more lucrative way to be fed than looking to the home matrons, who gave so little to the mass of parentless children. Months before she had arrived he had made it a priority to sneak in and out of the building with half of the food and supplies he had accumulated over that week. Usually it wasn't much, a couple loafs of bread, some easy to conceal fruit, usually apples, and a pound of dried meat, more than likely jerky made from grooselings.
It was during one of his scheduled drop offs that he had seen her hurling her body against the locked door. Even at thirteen he was already taller than most of the boys at the home, but he still had to stand on his toes to peer through the solitary windowed door. He had resisted the urge to jump back when a force hit the door in the pitch black room. The only source of light around was from the hung lanterns behind him lining the walls of the hallway. It had taken him a few seconds to adjust his eyes when he was met with the most striking grey eyes through the glass. The shadows of her face played on her skin from the reflection of the lights, but never reaching her eyes.
The heat emanating from them bore through him and he could feel his stomach drop. He could hear scratching coming from the window, looking over to the side he could see her nails baring into the lip of the window, as she held herself up to look through the glass. Her jaw was set and Peeta could see her grit her teeth, before her hands began to shake wildly before her grip gave and she fell from the window.
He suddenly felt empty inside, the connection severed. With all his height he rose up searching into the room, the darkness spilling over, he could barely make out movement as she scattered to the far wall. He pressed his hand over the glass, wanting to give her any sign that she wasn't alone.
The room wasn't foreign to him, he had spent more than one time locked in the bare room, filled with nothing but cold cement flooring, and paint chipped walls. The window located on the door was the only reminder of an outside world. He had wondered what merited her stay in solitary confinement, but he assumed it had been something worse than taking an extra helping of watered down broth.
He had stayed at the door for an hour before the sun began to rise knowing the matriarchs would be filling into the barracks soon so that everyone could begin their daily duties and work assignments. He rose up from the floor where had been sitting to tap the glass lightly, before making his way to the laundry window where he entered the home.
The stopping of the train brought him out of his memories, as he sat up moving his neck to the side hoping to work out the constant stiffness there. Peeta worked his right hand through his thick blonde hair smoothing it back, strands from his bangs wanting to hang freely around his face. With the other hand he smoothed the front of his black suit down, wanting to ensure he gave a good impression, as any companion worth his opulence would. He breathed in deep before swallowing, aware that the time to become one of those masks was at hand. At times it was easy to get lost in the illusion of being a man, forever searching if what he was feeling or thinking was genuine or simply a product of one of the facades.
Peeta had came to the realization that to be a companion it was better to be an empty vessel, than to have your own desires, because when you cared about something it was all consuming, filling you up, but to care also meant you had something to lose, and Peeta was convinced he couldn't handle losing anything else.
As he made his way through the velvet lined hallway of the train, he came to the exit stepping out hastily into the sunlight, the train ride, and even with how smooth it rode, still made him feel confined and cramped. He breathed in deeply, instantly revolted by the smell of bleach and an artificial stench of flowers, most likely the form of aerosol the Capitol used when washing down the streets. Like the mazes of district eleven, the bleach applied to the streets of the Capitol, with their assumptions of rinsing away their lewd acts, to the people of the Capitol redemption was as easy as applying a deodorant.
The odor in the air made him miss district twelve already, with its musky aroma of the woods found on his property, and the air even mixed with coal dust was still crisper, than the ammonia drenched oxygen of the Capitol. Everything is so much simpler for him when he's at home in district twelve able to just be Peeta, and not have to pretend that his life purpose revolves around the needs and wants of the Capitol.
Smoothing his jacket down once again, he takes in a deep breath finding it difficult to ignore the stench, and pushes himself onward towards where he knows the official offices lie. The train station is in the center of the downtown district, buildings covered in glass with metallic molding reflect the sun, casting colored shadows around him, as he makes his way through the crowds of commuters. The bright screens placed up against the walls continuously ran advertisements for fashion or the next surgical treatment fad to make its way around the social circles.
Peeta did his best not to pay attention to any of the nonsense. Even though he was constantly in thick of it, he kept a piece of himself back in district twelve where he felt he had at least a chance of feeling like himself, although it had been years sense he was fully able to look himself in the eye and not feel ashamed. Peeta squared his shoulders as he gracefully made his way through the crowd of station commuters. Out of the corner of his eye he could see groups of women gossiping behind gloved and manicured hands, their whispers loud enough to carry over to him.
He even recognized a few of them as former and present clients, their high pitched laughter causing him the need to shutter. However, he began to play his part, by winking at each one, before giving a short nod in their direction. A few appeared to almost faint, while others used certain gestures to signify their acknowledgement.
Peeta Mellark was an anomaly when it came to the concerns of the Capitol, especially its female population. Companions were all born of nobility or lordship, which made them Capitol born and something to be envied of by the district born citizens, which was in all ways common, something that was perceived as less than human, simpletons. However, when his fellow companions were from generations of servants to the Capitol, something to be admired, Peeta was an orphaned district born.
So with everything in the Capitol that caught the eye of those zealous to be the first to experience something new and even forbidden in all other cases, the district born companion with his charm and strong jaw was in high demand. On normal circumstances, someone of his upbringing would have been ostracized or the very least ignored, but he was different, and sometimes being different in the Capitol was the surest way to get you noticed. However with notoriety came attention, where your actions were closely watched.
After what felt more like hours than mere minutes, Peeta reached the enclosed walkway leading to the offices of Companion Relations, with its deep gloss of green washing its way over the glass. It was always interesting to Peeta how a place that specialized in facilitating intimacy for the people of the Capitol had an air of clean lines and simplicity, when it was anything but. The bustle of people was even more confining than in the station, so when the sun finally spread over his face he couldn't resist a quiet sigh to escape his lips.
A small gust of wind slipped over his head curving its way around his neck and releasing a few of the strands of his bangs to fall around his blue eyes. The thin pieces of hair tickled his eyelashes, before he took his right to them and with one motion forming the hair with the rest, to be smoothed back. Peeta reached the doors with walking only a few yards out of the walkway, the sleek feel of the glass handles cold even with the sun, fit into his palms as he pulled the doors open simultaneously. He walked through as each door swung open, while he kept his shoulders squared as the crowd in the lobby watched him closely as he made his way over to where the elevators were kept. His black dress shoes clicked on the marble flooring, and he wanted more than ever to be back in district twelve where he could wear his worn brown boots and sit on his porch listening to Haymitch curse at the geese that regularly roamed the grounds.
But Peeta knew that his visits to the Capitol was about business and maintaining the life he had back in the district, was in direct collation with how well he maneuvered through the affairs of the Capitol, which would also guarantee that others in twelve would have the few liberties they were allowed to have.
The metal doors of the elevator opened in time as he approached the button, a few people walked out entering the lobby, but not before giving him a few glances, one woman with cotton candy pink skin to match her hair, bit her lip seductively while fluttering her lashes at him. Peeta nodded in her direction as he gave her a small smile, before walking into the elevator waiting for the doors to close. His shoulders fell a little as soon as he was alone, the whooshing of the elevator lines surrounding him.
Sometimes it was difficult to keep up appearances, when his first reaction was to be revolted by those who fancied his company. The young man looked up into the reflective doors of the elevator, the sight before him was one he saw often when visiting the Capitol, his blonde hair, which had darkened as he gotten older, was brushed back away from his face, the opposite of how he wore it free and hanging around his eyes when he was back in the district. The suit he wore now with its dark coloring and silk fabric was drastically different than the cotton slacks and plain button ups he wore when home. Everything about the man looking back was wrong, even the glint in his eye.
He barely felt the elevator stop as the doors opened revealing the plush brightly colored offices, the bodies of those in the waiting area crossing in front of him. Peeta swallowed, before squaring his shoulders and resuming the act he played out for those in the Capitol. The whispers began almost automatically as he headed down to the south wing of the complex.
He received more sideway glances and a few hard slaps to his backside, he had decided long ago that trying to take offense to something so childish was above his concerns; after all unwanted petting was on the lower scale of sexual harassment he had to endure when it came to the Capitol and its inhabitants. The walk down the hallway seemed longer than before, but the brightly colored hot pink glass leading to her office was unmistakable.
Peeta reached for the handle of the door, the name Effie Trinket : Companion Relations Coordinator was written in delicate block letters in bold pink, her signature color. Peeta had to roll his eyes before entering, because if there was one person who could irritate him to new extremes it was Effie.
As he entered the office he was instantly hit with the sickly sweet odor of roses, every building was required to filter the scent through the air ducts; it was difficult not to pass out by the strength of the odor. Peeta breathed through his mouth slowly before heading to the back office where he knew she would be. The walls were almost iridescent, light dancing off of the pale painted walls causing streams of color to shine around him.
Even the décor of the Capitol made him miss the districts, the other end of the spectrum with their bright colors and fur lined furniture, everything of excess, where twelve with its coal stained buildings and wood used for carpentry, was simple and natural, because for Peeta the little flaws meant something. When he reached the end of the hallway, he could already see her colorful poof of a hairstyle through the glass, her finger fluttered in the air as she talked to herself in a sing song reverie. The jewels encrusted on her nails shined and reflected the light through the door, as he opened it slowly. Peeta cleared his throat announcing his presence, before she raised her far too white face in his direction.
Her lashes were heavy, curled up towards her brows, a vacant expression held until something registered in her mind, before she gave him a small smile, or at least Peeta assumed it to be, it was always difficult for him to understand the emotional cues of the Capitol citizens. He let his hand rest at the handle, as he stepped fully inside the garish decorated office.
"Oh, Companion Mellark, right on time as usual," she clapped her hands together pleasingly her overly manicured fingers tapping each other," It really is impeccable how respectful you are of the schedule, especially when one takes time to consider your obvious short coming."
Peeta leans his head to the side a brow rising, although he knows fully what she's implying," Short coming?"
"Your breeding of course, most of the district borns are no better than savage animals, with no regard for propriety."
No they're too busy with not starving to death, while you and your brethren decide which shade to coat your overly surgically morphed bodies in, he thought to himself.
Although instead he just politely nodded, making his way to one of the overly stuffed velvet chairs located in front of her mahogany desk. He sat down slowly, making sure to keep his posture exact before he crossed his leg over the other.
"May I ask what the reason is for our meeting?"
Effie nodded as she thumbed through a slide on her tablet," Yes, it has come to my attention that you are still without assistance."
"Assistance?"
"A handmaiden."
Peeta shifted in his seat," Yes, that. You see Miss Trinket, as you know I have been unable to procure a lady of standing who would agree to help serve in matters of my work."
"You are asked for more than most of the other companions, well except for Companion Odair, naturally."
"Naturally," Peeta cleared his throat;" Even so, there isn't any interest for a Capitol born lady to accompany a companion of district heritage."
"Companion Mellark the bi-laws clearly state that a companion is to have hand maiden. Now I have let this slide for a bit because of how well you take to your tasks, but this will be dealt with very soon. Rules are rules and they are to be followed, even if you are met with a disadvantage," Effie laid the tablet down looking to him with defeated eyes," At this point I would be willing to allow a district born of real no importance to accompany you."
Peeta tried to wince at her comment about his breeding once more," If that is what it takes, Miss Trinket."
She leaned into her desk, the front of her fuchsia blouse bunching up to stick against her neck," You are a rare find Companion Mellark, to have such poise when you were nothing more than street trash. I now see the presence our dear president admires in you so."
Peeta nods his thanks," Thank you. I'm just proof that even the most flawed can find a place in revered society."
Effie points her long brightly colored nail at him," Let's hope so, Companion Mellark. Let's hope so."
Peeta tipped his head slightly giving her a smile, as she rattled on about rules and expectations when in truth all he wanted to do was scream.
She can hear the dripping of water before she opens her eyes, as it hits the cold cement of the tunnel splashing up slightly to wet the side of her face. Opening one eye she peers up to where the water has begun to slowly run down the top of the pipe to land beside her, she reaches her hand to the side to catch a stray droplet, letting it collapse in her dirt stained hand. She sat up slowly bringing her hand in front of her face to examine the water closely, she leaned down to sniff quickly, curious if it contained any run off sewer, but it appeared to be safe enough.
Her mouth was dry from dehydration, her lips already cracked, she was at least thankful the summer months hadn't started yet, which made her perspire far too soon for her liking, which caused the salt to seep from her body and soak her already grimy clothing. Keeping her sitting position she scooted backwards, using her palms to brace her body as she stopped beneath the dripping water. A drop landed on the top of her head before she leaned back, opening her dry mouth, her tongue was like sand paper and she could taste the metallic after tastes of blood in her mouth.
The water landed on her tongue and she couldn't help the sound of pleasure escaping her lips, she allowed a few drops to enter her mouth before she swallowed her throat raw and dry. Her muscles were achy, she couldn't decide from the threat of dehydration or from having to sleep on the concrete of the tunnel.
The rumbling from her stomach caused her right hand to reflex rubbing her gut in soothing circles. She hadn't been able to leave the tunnels in a couple of days, to acquire anything to eat, there had been another one of the Capitol's parades going on, and the Peacekeeper force was always greater at those times. She sat up crawling over to the thin canvas bag she kept against the wall, she kept close to the ground not wanting to bump her head on the top of structure which could vibrate and alert someone of her presence.
When she reached the bag she turned it in her hands inspecting it for any tears or bites, she had learned the hard way not to keep her food out in the open since she shared most of her dwellings with rodents and other types of vermin. When she was sure the bag was still intact she reached in to the bottom, her hand searching the almost empty bag. She sighed when her fingers landed on a lone half of an apple she had eaten the day before. She withdrew it from the stained cloth, rolling in her hand.
It had already begun to brown and she brought it to her nose to smell it to decide if it was beyond eating. She tilted her head to the side shrugging as she brought it to her mouth, her yellowed teeth sinking into the fruit, juice coated her tongue and she relaxed slightly. Trying to pace herself she took longer to chew knowing she would have to venture out into the city away from her protective shelter soon. After about thirty minutes of agonizing slow pace, she pushed the last bite into her mouth. Her throat burned from the contact and she could feel her stomach lurch and pop from finally having something to digest.
There were times she had wondered if leaving the orphanage was wise, because even with the isolation and the beatings she had a bit more to eat than she did living underneath the city. But she would soon remind herself that even with more to eat she would have already been dead from physical abuse or driven mad by the lack of human contact. The dark room she was forced to stay in was cold and unfeeling but she did miss the stories which had been scratched into the peeling paint. They had kept her alive, long after the boy who had carved them had abandoned her.
She shook her head trying to push away the memory, even though most of her experiences were hazy as the days went by, she had forgotten what he had sounded like or even how he looked, but she could still remember his gangly arms wrapped around her in embrace and how his breath felt against her dark hair, as he raked his fingers through the strands trying to untangle the mess.
She instinctively went over to the side of the tunnel, frantically hurling her body over to where she slept, her hands going over to the small book. The leather binding had already begun to loosen and the sides were worn and peeling. She turned the book in her hands, her fingers brushing over the golden print scrolled over the cover. She pressed the book to her forehead breathing in deeply before lowering the book again to thumb through its pages.
She turned to the last page where she had written a simple sentence with a piece of stray chalk she had found which had been kicked free of one of the cobble stoned paths. Although she had through the years written different phrases, she read the one she had let her eyes move over for hours. She held the book up to where the light had filtered in through the cracks.
Her voice was hoarse from the misuse," My name is Katniss Everdeen and I'm not crazy. I'm strong not weak, and they can't take my mind unless I allow them to," she swallowed but her mouth came up dry.
She began to repeat the phrase over and over again, until her eyes burned from the lack of water in her body, her nerves pinched and ached as tears tried to form, but couldn't. She was always terrified before she had to venture out, there was always the risk of being caught. And this time she wouldn't be shuttled back to the orphan home, she would be sent to the holding cells, to await execution if she wasn't shot in the head immediately.
She had formed a tremulous relationship with the Peacekeeper force of the Capitol, seeing how often she had to escape from being arrested for scavenging and stealing. She pulled the book to her chest holding onto it firmly, her only lifeline, it gave her strength. It was the only thing that reminded her she was human and that at least one time in her life someone had cared enough about her to share a gift with her. She sighed, as she crawled over to where she kept her dark cloak, her book still clutched in her hand.
The young girl settled on her knees as she spun the fabric around her tying it beneath her jaw, before slipping the hood over her matted hair. Her thick tresses stopped at her shoulders but she assumed they would land at the small of her back if she had ever brushed through the tangled mess. She hadn't had access to enough water to bathe for almost three months, and the dirt and grime had permanently coated her hair and skin.
The hood landed below her eyes as she crawled over to where the tunnel walls were higher allowing her to stand as she reached up sliding the grate to the side allowing her to pull herself up. As soon as she was in the other part of the tunnel system she slipped the book into the pocket of her torn canvas pants. She scooted through the system before she came to an unused store front which would allow her access to the street. She could already hear the sounds of pedestrians as she made her way to where the street vendors were kept. The smell of confections from the café across the street made her dizzy and she had to push herself forward. Her body ached and her emotions were raw as she willed herself to move forward. She continued to run the mantra through her mind.
My name is Katniss Everdeen and I'm not crazy. I'm strong not weak, and they can't take my mind unless I allow them to.
The streets were crowded with patrons and vendors, as he made his way through the street market. After his meeting with Effie Trinket, he had decided to take the long way back to the train station, wanting to clear his head before he had to make the long ride back home. With her insipient tone she had given him less than a week to find a suitable candidate for the position of hand maiden.
Peeta bit his tongue holding back the agitation he felt, as he politely reminded her once again how unlikely the possibility was that any lady of standing would agree to leave her life at the Capitol to dwell in one of the outlining districts, especially twelve which was seen as the least desirable district to inhabitant by Capitol borns. She had tapped her nails deftly on the hard wood; her voice became strained when she again reminded him of certain rules and mandates.
Peeta had finally conceded, nodding his thanks for her patience, which truly was a lie but the effort earned him at least a small smile. He had learned that sometimes having someone believe you understood their reasoning was a way to manipulate them as a future ally. And though Effie Trinket's appearance made her look ridiculous, much like everyone in the Capitol, she was not someone to dismiss or take lightly, because behind that airy nasal speech, she was twisted and cunning similar to anyone in the Capitol with power, so therefore even if it was false in his case he needed to have her believe he respected her wants.
The street market was much simpler than the fancy store fronts located in the downtown part of the Capitol. The patrons and sellers were still oddly dressed and most spoke in clipped sentences but the atmosphere was much more laid back, and Peeta felt a bit more comfortable in their presence, however he would rather be in the square of district twelve, where his money could help those he cared about, because even if he wasn't originally from twelve, its citizens made him feel welcomed when he was just a fifteen year old boy about to be sold to the highest bidder.
District twelve was his home, where he could feel almost human, where he could eventually breathe. His footsteps were determined as he wove through the crowds of merchants and consumers, a shrill voice of woman haggling over a bundle of fruit caught him off guard, he glanced over to where she began to shout and noticed the group of Peacekeepers around her.
Peeta assumed she had a disagreement with a customer, as he stopped in his tracks watching the altercation. She waved her arms in the air animatedly as her voice reached a higher octave, and that's when he heard her yell thief. Now the armed Peacekeepers made sense to him, she had been robbed, most likely from a hungry district born, because even the poorest of Capitol borns still had enough to eat, never having to resort to stealing to survive.
Peeta sighed as he began to put a distance between himself and the armed security, because although he had been following the rules of legality, he still wasn't favored by some of the veteran Peacekeepers who still remembered him from his days of surviving on the streets.
The cobble stones beneath his dress shoes collided with the steel on the bottom of the shoe padding, clicking sounds echoed as the crowd thinned and he was alone on the street. Peeta could hear shouting from far off, which only made his nerves bunch in his gut, he didn't want to run into the Peacekeepers in such a secluded area, where even his charm may not be enough to help him escape a beating. The grief of having to explain bruises to Effie was enough to make him fear any physical altercation.
He was so caught up in listening for the proximity of the voices; he almost slipped on object directly in front of him. Peeta looked around for a few seconds before he bent down, steadying himself on the balls of his feet, as he peered down, the makings of what appeared to be a battered up book came into view. He reached down running the tips of his fingers over the cover, the golden etchings deep and familiar. He had seen something similar, but he couldn't quite place where. He moved his fingers to the side where the torn ends of the pages tickled the pads of his fingers, closing his hand around it. He began to lift it up as he stood, but suddenly his body was involuntarily pushed back down as the book hit the stone road with force.
Peeta looked up to the other side of the book, slender nimble fingers, which could only belong to a woman, were clutching the top. The nails were chipped and jagged with dirt blackening the cuticle and tip where it should be pink and clear. He moved his eyes up the adjoining arm, to connect to a dainty jaw, then finally eyes which could only belong to a female. A hood from the cloak she was wearing was obstructing most of her face, but deep gray eyes bore through him, and he could feel his body shake from the mere force of her stare.
She jerked her arm back pulling the book with her, as well as Peeta's body but he held firm while still trying not to fall face forward. She grunted loudly as she yanked even harder, angry with him she became unaware of the two Peacekeepers rushing from behind. Peeta broke their stare as he watched the two men approach the girl, his hand still firm on the book. With more force than needed the two armed men took each an arm, raising her from the ground easily, her feet kicked from above ground as she tried to wrench her body from their grasps.
She growled and moaned loudly, as they carried her a few feet away, finally throwing her to the ground, her small frame hit the stones causing an awful sound to echo. The Peacekeeper with dark hair and a wide scratch beneath his eye bent down low enough to hiss at the girl, who was now holding herself up by her elbows.
"Thieving bitch! I'll show you what we do to dirty district borns who attack enforcers of the law!"
He reaches up to her head, pulling the hood down away from her face, revealing high cheek bones and wide gray eyes. Parts of her dark hair, which weren't matted by filth and sweat, fell around her face framing it. Peeta stood up slowly, the book still in his hand, watching her. Her face held an expression of pure defiance, and he could see the fire emanating through her eyes.
The other Peacekeeper who had stood by quietly spoke," I think she may be an Avox, most of the criminals usually already beg for forgiveness by now."
The man with the wounded face bent down squeezing her cheeks, trying to force her jaw open. He peered in her mouth as he began to push her teeth down with his finger. She quickly began to bite down, but he was quicker as he withdrew his finger, her teeth clattered with force. The man waved his finger in the air, thankful she hadn't bitten it off.
"No, she still has her tongue."
The other one shuffled his feet," Maybe she's mute, or she could be mentally incapacitated, she doesn't look very smart."
The girl glared at both men, her nails scraping into the stones with anger. Peeta watched her closely, as she moved her head to peer around the dark haired one's legs. Confusion took her over as she watched him her eyes finally landing on the book in his hands. She sprung up quickly rushing over to him, which caused him to jump back slightly. It took the dark haired man only seconds before he noticed her movements, his boot stepping down firmly on the end of her cloak, the tie around her neck digging into her skin, choking her.
The girl's small frame went hurling to the ground as the fabric held her in place. Peeta's eyes went wide as she began to scream, the sound ripping through him. The Peacekeeper who had caused her body to crash to the unforgiving ground laughed as he pulled her from the ground, his arms wrapped around her waist.
She reached her arms out towards Peeta, her rimmed red," It's mine! It's mine!"
Her voice was raw and guttural from misuse as it took Peeta a back. The Peacekeeper shook her like a rag doll, as she tried to squirm from his grasp.
"So you can talk can you?"
He carried her body over to an abandoned well, that was used for rinsing the street off and some of the vendors would wash their crop before selling it. Peeta walked a few feet closer to watch as the man pushed her to the ground, her knees colliding with the stones as her nails dug into the lip of the well.
"If you can talk, you can scream."
He wrapped his gloved hand around the end of her hair gathering the mess with a steel grip. With a forceful push he submerged her head into the water, her feet kicking the stones. Her body was struggling under his grasp, before he pulled her back up. Peeta could see her swallow before she was pushed back under, he looked behind him for anyone else watching but he was alone with the Peacekeepers and the abused girl.
She was pulled from the water once again, but she looked up to the man as he bent down, spitting the liquid into his face. She smiled with pride before he struck her against the face, her frail body hitting the side of the well. The man who had been watching stepped forward his hand extended to the girl.
"That's enough Thread. We're supposed to arrest her not torture her."
Thread reached down tearing the fabric from her body, the tied string cutting her throat a bit before ripping from her form. The girl began to stand on wobbly legs as she held her hands flat out in the air trying to steady herself. Water dripped down her body as she stood her full length watching the man, as he leered at her, pulling out the revolver from his waist and pointing it to her head.
The other man just shook his head as he turned around not wanting to watch the act, but not stopping it either. Peeta ran up to where they man pointed his gun at the girl as she looked him square in the eye, her body shaking.
Peeta's voice was more hoarse than he would have liked, as he held his free hand up the other still clutching the leather binding," Stop! What are you doing?"
The man who the Peacekeeper called Thread looked over to the younger man, his green eyes narrowed," I'm carrying out a lawful action towards a known criminal."
"With all due respect, it appears to me you're traumatizing a young girl, who is half your size," Peeta motioned to her sharply," And besides she doesn't look very dangerous to me."
"You'd be surprised by her resourcefulness, and with all due respect I think this is none of your business, Mr..-"
Peeta squared his shoulders," Companion Mellark of district twelve."
"Oh, yes I've heard of you," Peeta looked over to the other man watching him closely before he looked back over to Thread who still held a gun to the girl's head," You're the district trash who impressed the president so much he gave you the duty of escorting the overindulged socialites of this town."
"Yes, and I know you are as aware as I am of how much these women love to gossip."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, if you ever want to be ever to pull a certain detail of looking over a wealthy family instead of chasing after street criminals, than you may want to seem as put together as ever, and not someone so unpredictable who would execute defenseless girls at the edge of the street."
"Do you really think anyone would care about her death?"
"Do you think it really matters? Today she's only a district born, but the rumor mill has a way of turning her into an heiress, something so much more entertaining for the gossips to sink their teeth into."
Thread lowers his hand only for a second before raising it again," I-"
"And besides if she comes with me, you won't have to be bothered with arranging a way for her body to be disposed."
Thread looks over to me his brow raised," You want to take her with you?"
Peeta nods but his admission surprises him also," Yes."
Thread begins to laugh as the other Peacekeeper can't stop staring at the young man in the suit. The girl has moved her head slightly towards Peeta as she locks eyes with him. Thread raises his gun up above his head quickly as he shrugs.
"Ok, you can take her only if she goes willingly. If she runs or doesn't move at all, I'm shooting her."
Peeta nods mutely, as Thread pushes the girl towards the center of the street where Peeta waits. Her legs are wobbly, as without the cloak he can see how thin her arms are and how her collarbone juts out from her dark skin. She begins to shake as the water droplets from her hair fall to her lips, her tongue catching the water.
Peeta held out the book to her, before she runs towards him as the gesture registers over her face. She's in front of him in a matter of seconds, pulling the book from his hand as she hunches down to the ground, her face unreadable. Peeta looks over to Thread who is watching intently, as the younger man hunches down in front of her. He reaches his hand out to her, which causes her to flinch slightly before pushing the book into her chest tightly, her hands gripping the leather tightly.
"Come with me."
She doesn't move, or even react to understanding his request," Please, it's alright I won't hurt you," Peeta looks over to Thread who has began to raise his firearm to the back of her head," They will kill you if you don't come with me now. I know you're scared," he sighs as he bends down more to catch her eyes," but you can trust me. Anyone who is brave enough to keep silent when she's being abused and terrorized is strong enough to take my hand," Peeta pushed his hand closer to her," Please just take my hand."
Thread began to laugh again, as he cocked his firearm, ready to pull the trigger. Peeta could hear his heartbeat in his ears, as his legs began to shake. He was too busy watching the barrel of Thread's gun, that he almost didn't feel her tiny fingers wrapping around his larger hand. He sharply turned to her, pulling his fingers closed around hers.
Silently he pulled her from the ground as she hunched over still grasping the book against her body. The other Peacekeeper shook his head, as he turned to walk down the other end of the street, leaving the mess of the last few minutes behind. Peeta walked the girl down the street, hoping that Thread wouldn't decide to shoot her anyway, or even decide to shoot Peeta on pure hatred. When they rounded the corner the girl tore her hand away from him, as she began to walk the opposite way.
Peeta held his hand up," No, wait! If you don't come with me, they will find you. And what I know of Thread he won't be as kind to just shoot you right off, there are worse things than a bullet. But I promise if you come to twelve with me, no one will hurt you," this stops her in her tracks as she turns to watch him," Are you hungry? I have a full menu laid out for me on the train when I'm returning home…always."
She licks her lips at the promise of food, before nodding her head sharply. Peeta holds his hand out to her, as she walked up to him eyeing it cautiously before she takes it slowly. He can feel her tense from his touch, as he leads her to where the train will be waiting. With the girl beside him, he keeps running the reasons through his mind why he had come to her rescue, when he had seen such things so many times before without reacting. Why was this girl different? And why did he all of a sudden want to protect her?
The train ride home had been awkward at best as Peeta had tried to make her feel more comfortable and bridge some sort of communication with the silent girl. Starting a conversation with her as she balled up in one of the velvet chairs was difficult, but he still rattled on about the district and how she would have her own room, or how she was welcomed to eat something. Nothing seemed to take her out of her daze, as she clutched onto the battered book. He shifted nervously in his seat across from her as he crossed his legs repeatedly to only unfold them once again.
Peeta was beyond baffled at how he could command a room full of dignitaries, but was at a loss when dealing with a waif of a girl. She looked out of place surrounded by the extravagant furnishing of the Capitol train, with its crystal chandeliers and rich colored woven rugs, where she wore torn dirt pressed fabric, her face almost difficult to distinguish underneath the filth.
Her eyes would look over to him, an appearance of a caged animal, almost feral, but her gaze would flit away quickly to rest to no place particular. Peeta uncrossed his legs, leaning forward, his hands in his lap, as he spoke.
"I wasn't being half hearted about telling you, you were welcomed to eat," she made no effort to react to his voice, her eyes seemed far off.
Peeta sighed as he ran his hands over his face to travel up to his hair, smoothing back a few stray strands which had landed beside his eye level. He could feel his irritation rise, and he had to remind himself of the trauma she must have gone through to be so disconnected. His hands found their place back to his lap, as he watched her closely.
Dark hair matted to her skull, the ends fraying from where the water had dried, the rest was pushed behind her ears, he could see the sheen of grease and grim which had accumulated there reflecting the light traveling through the windows as the country side passed by them. Her dark skin wasn't much cleaner as dirt streaked her cheeks; a few patches of blemishes were located beneath her lips at her jaw line, from clogged pores and sweat.
Peeta had to admit that her appearance was horrendous but there was no mistaken the beauty of her deep gray eyes which seemed to burn through him. Her body was frail, as it showed signs of starvation and malnutrition, broken and hollow, but her spirit was all fire, something Peeta could clearly see when she rarely made eye contact with him. There was something so familiar about her, but he assumed he had seen her in passing, during one of his regular visits to the city.
"Can I at least know the name of the girl I saved?"
This seems to break her out of her trance as she glared at him, her jaw set. Peeta leaned back slightly, as her face became hard and unwavering, her bright eyes shooting through him. Peeta takes this time, while she caught off guard, if only a bit, to rise from his chair and walk over to where she has tucked herself in the velvet chair.
She watches him closely, but she's surprised when he easily tears the book from her grasp, turning from her to turn through the pages. He thumbs the ends for a second before he turns back around to see her jumping from the chair, one of her over sized boots falls off of her bare foot. She rushes over to him, her small hands pushing against his chest in rage as he lifts the book above his head well out of her reach. She begins to pull at his suit jacket, as she grits her teeth; Peeta can hear a few of the threads beginning to tear as she balls the fabric in her fists.
"So that gets a reaction out of you?"
She stops to narrow her eyes at him before she begins to reach her arms up, clawing at the fabric of his suit. The remaining boot from before has also fallen off, and Peeta has to kick it aside to keep himself from falling as she tears at his clothing desperately trying to retrieve the book. Peeta can see the panic in her eyes, and what started off to be a tactic to get some information was beginning to seem cruel.
"I'll make you deal. You tell me your name and I'll give you the book back. Ok?"
She struggles with him for a few seconds before she stops defeated, her chest rising and falling quickly, as she pants out of breath. Her shoulders hunch over before she looks up to her book, her eyes traveling down the length of his arm to rest at his eyes, as Peeta can physically see the fight drain from her body.
"Katniss."
Peeta nodded as he lowered the book to settle in between them," It's nice to meet you Katniss. I'm Peeta."
Katniss eyed him for a few seconds before she slowly took hold of the book, her fingers tightening around the edge. She clears her throat, before speaking; her voice comes out raw and small.
"Where are we going?"
"To my home in District twelve."
It wasn't long until she sat back into the chair, and curled her feet underneath her, the book pressed back into her chest. Peeta tried once again to start a conversation with her, but she seemed even more detached then before. The next two hours to the district were strained and uncomfortable, as Peeta watched her closely, curious and nervous if whether she would turn into a mood swing, she acted on edge at best, and Peeta knew better than most how desperate someone could be when they were frightened.
He almost missed the moment when she leaned over to the side and closed her eyes, her body instantly easing. He fought the urge to take the book from her hands to curiously flip through the pages; it was beginning to drive him mad not knowing why something as insignificant as a book was worth dying for. He had run the previous hours in his head from when he had found the book lying on the cobble stone road.
Peeta assumed she had dropped it when the Peacekeepers were pursuing her, but why had she risked being caught to double back for an object. His eyes traveled from the book up to her face, he had to admit that she looked almost approachable when she was asleep, but so did most wild animals.
The train arrived in the district, stopping with barely a feel of force as the mode of transportation ceased. Peeta had been in the motions of falling asleep himself, before a nervous Capitol attendant came walking through the sliding doors.
"We've arrived sir," the woman with deep green hair and skin to match nervously glanced over to the sleeping girl in the chair, she cleared her throat as her hand twitched," I suppose I should wake the," she looked over to Peeta choosing her words wisely, as sweat formed above her lip," young lady?"
Peeta shook his head both to symbolize his decision and for the woman's entitlement," No, it's alright I'll wake her."
He rose from the chair as the attendant turned on her heel fighting the need to run for the nearest exit. He could understand her bewilderment over the sleeping girl, her appearance and glares were enough to unease anyone, but to Capitol borns her presence was excuse to have them become unhinged. She wasn't something they could simply wash over; she had a way about her which allowed her to fill a room, where everything reflected her, even when she had become disconnect.
Her dainty nimble fingers tightened around the book as she begins to mumble something in her sleep, her body shaking. Peeta takes a few seconds to prepare himself for any sort of reaction before he bends down, both his hands resting at her shoulders, shaking her gently.
"Katniss," he swallows the name bitterly, as it seemed peculiar to call her by name," Wake up, we're here."
She stirred slightly before trying to turn to her side, this time he shook her with more force," Wake up!"
Peeta jumped back as one of her hands released the book to strike out at him, her eyes were still closed, while Peeta grabbed hold of her small wrist circling his fingers around the bones there. The sudden contact caused her eyes to openly quickly; silence fell between them as she stared at him dumbfounded. Peeta held on tightly as he stood there unaware of how to react, before she attempted to pull her arm free.
Peeta kept his grip as he pulled her from the chair easily, her feet hanging above the ground for only a few seconds. Katniss snarled and glared at him wrenching her arm from his fingers, she fell to the plush carpet of the train with a thud; her legs sprawled around her, the book still secured in her palm. Peeta shook his head, as she began to hyperventilate at his feet, he tried to ebb the annoyance from his voice.
"Is it really necessary to over react?"
Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible;" You attacked me."
"I was only shaking you awake, to tell you we've arrived," Peeta bent down balancing himself on the balls of his feet," And let's be clear. You only fell because you were squirming, and don't be mistaken miss, if I was to attack you, you'd know."
Katniss lowered her head, turning it to the side to break their eye contact. Her nails dug into the fibers of the carpet, as she tried to restrain herself from tackling him to the ground. She had been having another nightmare of being trapped in the tunnels as the walls began to close on her, the boy with the welcoming embrace had pushed her into a dark corner where the mutts ,which were fabled to live in sewers, could tear her limb from limb.
The first bite of her flesh had began when she had felt the sensation of being shaken, but it wasn't until she felt warm fingers close in on her frail wrist that she felt like fighting back. She held back her aggression because even if she wasn't yet prepared trust him or even stay in his company, he had saved her from being a source of amusement for the Peacekeepers. Katniss quelled her instinct to flinch when he held his hand out, palm turned upwards.
"It's time to go to my home, you'll be safe there."
Katniss turned her face towards him; an expression of determination came over him, causing her to be confused once again by the young man in the clean pressed suit who continued to show her kindness. He troubled her; it had been far too long since someone treated her as human and not something to be ignored and ashamed of. Peeta kept his place his hand extended as he watched her deep in thought, before she placed her hand in his.
Gently, he gave her hand a soft squeeze, standing up taking her body to its full height with him. She allowed him to lead her pass the attendants, who wore expressions of disbelief mixed with pity, neither something Peeta felt the need to acknowledge, as he held Katniss' hand while they exited the train. The familiar scent of coal dust and pine lingers in the air as the wind wraps around their bodies.
Peeta feels a tremor go up his arm, which puzzles him because he wasn't aware of being chilly, but it isn't until he feels the sensation again that he realizes it isn't coming from his own body. He lets his eyes travel to their joined hands where hers has begun to tremble, her shoulder are hunched over, as Peeta looks down to her bare feet, her toes digging and flexing into the coal dusted ground.
He scolds himself for being so self absorbed with his disdain for the attendants attitudes that he over looked the fact she hadn't recovered her shoes. He looked back to the entrance of the train debating to go back in, as she pulled her hand free walking forward. Peeta watched her fold her arms around her body, the book lightly hitting the side of her back, as she walked a few feet in front of him. He was still watching her as she turned around, her face curious.
"Aren't we going to your home?"
"Your shoes?"
She shook her head," This isn't the first time I've had to walk bare foot somewhere, and I'd rather not go back into the train with the Capitol staff."
Peeta nods mutely before catching up to her, she looks to him without any verbal communication instead she motions her head to the side, signaling for him to lead forward. He has to continually remind himself not to glance back at her as they make their way into the town square which leads into the merchant quarters.
It's midday and most of the merchants are in the storefronts or attending to duties out front, which only adds to the audience he and the poorly bathed, even for district twelve standards her appearance draws eyes, girl who is inches behind him, her head lowered. Peeta keeps his shoulders back attempting to ignore the gossips already in full force, as the rumor mill turns.
Peeta Mellark was seen with a young woman who looks to be some kind of street trash. He must have picked her up when he was in Capitol today. Isn't it against a rule for a Companion to take on a lover? Of course but it was once unheard of a district born being a companion, rules don't seem to apply to him.
He had to admit that he had anxieties when it came to how he was perceived, but he was more worried about how Katniss would react to the sudden attention. He sighed before glancing back at her after they had left the fish bowl of the square, passing the justice building. Her feet were caked with mud and coal dust and he felt guilty for not offering his shoes, but he was positive she would have refused. She didn't seem the kind who readily allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to admit when she needed help.
Peeta could hear her from behind him, she must have closed the gap, because now he could feel her breathe at the back of his arm, only slightly, through the fabric of his jacket. She would take in a ragged breathe every few seconds which made Peeta assume she was crying. The thought made his chest tighten which only seemed to add to his confusion when it came to the girl.
When they rounded the corner of the fork in the road which led to his estate, he breathed in a sense of relief. He wasn't sure of how long she was going to follow him, and he didn't have to the energy to chase after her and wrestle her to the ground. He could see the back view of his home, the tree line to their right. Peeta stopped short when he couldn't feel her close proximity anymore, glancing back all he saw was the dirt road they had traveled down.
He frantically turned his body in a full circle until he saw her running towards the woods, the portions of her hair which weren't matted down flew out behind her as she picked up speed, running down the small hill.
Peeta cursed to himself as he unbuttoned the front of his jacket, before running after her. He wasn't sure of why he was in pursuit of her, she formally wasn't in his charge so therefore he had no responsibility to her, the bit he did had been expunged when he had taken her from the Peacekeepers, alas here he was running through the mud and weeds attempting to catch up with a hollow young girl.
He nearly ran into her as she had stopped short starring into the woods, her eyes wide. Peeta bent down resting his hands on his knees as he panted for breath.
"What was your plan to run into the woods? Located in a place you've never been before, you don't know the district, you have no idea what lurks in there-"
Her voice was airy and in awe which only caught him off guard," It's real."
Peeta stood up his brow puzzled," What?"
A smile broke out on her face, as a few tears rushed over her dark face," The forest," she turned to Peeta her eyes wide, lines surrounding her brow deepened as she smile even more," I always thought it was in my head like everything else, just something in my book," Peeta looked down to her hand as she dug her nails into the leather spine," But it's real! I'm not crazy."
Peeta watched her as she looked back to the trees," You're not crazy."
She turned to him quickly her eyes bright, and he felt for the first time they were finally seeing each other, a plausible connection was happening. Peeta wasn't seeing the rash, feral girl from the streets, but the young woman who was somehow trapped beneath all of the layers of pain and survival. They stood there for a few more minutes watching the other, before Peeta broke the contact turning to his side, motioning up the hill.
"We should make our way up to my home. So we can get you settled in," she looked troubled looking back to the wooded area," It's not going anywhere, I promise. The woods will still be here in the morning, but you do need to rest."
Katniss hesitated before turning around, beginning to trudge back up the hill, her feet covered in mud and cuts from the rocks on the ground. She glanced back at the woods and then at Peeta who was now at her side, his left hand hovering over the small of her back as he directed her towards the back of the two story home.
Having him so close was frightening for her, human contact was something she had been without for years, but with him it was so much more, it was as if she could feel the static in the air. She mentally shook herself for thinking of him in any scenario, to think of him more than her way to escape the Capitol was dangerous, and she had become accustomed to surviving.
Her breathe caught in her throat when she took in the sight before her, it was true the structure was nothing like the ones in the Capitol, but that's exactly what drew her to it. A simple country house painted eggshell white with pillars on each side of the stairs stood the length of the porch up to the awning above, a garden surrounded it with a plethora of color, deep and beautiful. She had assumed with Peeta being a companion, that his home would be grandiose because after all even if he was residing in district twelve he was still a product of the Capitol and people of the Capitol never recognized true beauty.
The walk up to the house was tense and strange, her feet ached, but the emptiness in her stomach was daunting and she felt near fainting. It had been torture for her during the train ride, the array of deserts, all sugary confections, and glazed meats had tormented her, she supposed she could have given in, he had tried to coax her to the food more than once, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting through to her.
She had been pleased with the distance she had forged between them, but then she had seen the forest, something she was convinced was fiction, but there it was within her grasp, and all of her defenses began to ebb. She had actually smiled at him and she wanted to slap herself for being so vulnerable around this man, but it was more than just a curve of her lips which upset her more, it was how he had looked at her, as if something for a split second had changed.
Peeta stepped around her as he made his way up a few steps before reaching out to her, his hand waiting for her to reciprocate; she stared at it for a few seconds before walking up the stairs, passing him, his forgotten gesture hanging in the air. She could hear him clear his throat, trying to mask his hurt or annoyance at her blatant refusal for his kindness; she wasn't going to make it easy on him.
Katniss was in deep thought over Peeta's reaction that she barely missed being hit by the opening of the back door. She jumped back furiously, her body shaking at the abrupt movement, Peeta's strong hands held on by the sides of her arms attempting to steady her, as she stood in front of him. He must have cleared the rest of the stairs as she reached the door.
The heat from his body was making her dizzy and she furrowed her brow at the reaction he in sighted from her. The way he continually attempted and succeeded at protecting her, infuriated her immensely.
Peeta could feel her tense, her muscles flexing against his hands, he was so caught up in the closeness of her he almost forgot about the woman at the door.
Her back was to him, as she fiddled with the top hinge of the back door. The canvas bag she slung around her shoulder was swaying to the side as she shook the door, trying unstuck the coils.
"Peeta I left a plate for you in the oven, I assumed you would be back sooner, but I understand how god awful that Effie woman can be," her back was to the two standing on the porch," Also I think we should wake Haymitch out of his drunk stupor to fix the confounding door, I mean you are paying him for something. Aren't you?"
She turned around sharply, her full length skirt wrapping around her ankles before spreading out once again. The older woman nearly fell back when she noticed the girl in front of her, Peeta's hands were still at her arms. Peeta attempted to sound casual, but he wasn't surprised when his voice came out tense.
"Hazelle, this is Katniss. She'll be staying with me for a while."
The dark haired woman looked to the other looking her over before raising a brow to the man behind her. Peeta mouthed later to her, Hazelle's eyes questioning him. She quickly recovered, a smile gracing her pleasant face, her green eyes soft.
Peeta could feel Katniss pulling from him, before he released his grasp on her, she glanced back at him, before turning back to Hazelle. The older woman stepped forward to the girl, she kept her movements slow and deliberate, as she moved one of her hands to lightly touch the girl at the arm.
"Let's get you cleaned up dear, it must have been a very tiring trip for you."
Katniss nodded mutely as she allowed Hazelle to lead her into the house, Hazelle glanced back at Peeta a look of concern on her face. He simply waved her on, indicating he would explain everything in due time. The back door creaked as Hazelle held it open for Katniss, giving her enough room to walk through. Katniss looked back to him one last time before the door shut separating their contact, leaving Peeta on the porch alone.
He felt empty and almost numb having her leave his side, which only confused him, this girl was nothing more to him than a lost soul who he had saved from execution. She was nothing of consequence to him, but if that was true, he reasoned than why did he feel so drawn to her?
Katniss sat in the wooden chair, her legs shaking as the woman behind her attempted to comb through years of neglect. The cotton of the robe, felt foreign on her newly washed skin, her fingers tangling the fabric around them. Katniss looked up at her reflection; it was odd for her to see herself fresh faced without any dirt or sweat marring her face. It was as if she was seeing someone new, a girl she hadn't seen before.
Hazelle had been patient with her, at first with how she had reluctantly wanted to undress, it taking almost ten minutes for her to unfasten her tattered pants and then how puzzled she had been to all of the different soaps and perfumes set up around the lip of the tub. When after much effort on Hazelle's part to reassure her that yes soap was used for your hair, it had taken even longer for Katniss to trust her enough to allow her to brush through her matted head of hair.
The girl had jumped back in fear at the sight of the brush, she barely remembered one from when she was younger, something her mother would use to glide through her dark strands. Hazelle with much grace and patience gently touched her bare arm with the bristles, showing her how gentle they could be, that the object was no threat to her. Katniss had watched her for a few minutes before agreeing to sit down in front of the vanity.
Hazelle's tired hands weaved through the girl's hair, attempting to untangle the mess of knots, her eyes glancing to the reflection in the mirror, the girl had closed her eyes her breathing steady and strangely calm.
Hazelle cleared her throat, her hands still working through Katniss' hair," I'm sure your mother brushed your hair often, by how relax you seem."
Katniss' voice was raw with exhaustion," I don't know. I can't remember much."
Hazelle lowered her eyes," Oh."
Katniss watched the woman closely; the kindness in her eyes set the girl at ease. Her eyes drifted to the crown of the woman's head where a weaving of brown hair was braided around the back of her head and then joined at the top.
"I like how your hair is done."
Hazelle was taken aback by the girl's voice, her hand absentmindedly going to her braid," Thank you," she ran her fingers through the girl's dark hair, most of the tangles undone, but not entirely," I can braid yours for bed if you like?"
Katniss shook her head," No."
Hazelle nodded as she leaned over to place the brush on the vanity, before she turned around walking to the bed picking up a stack of clothing. Katniss watched her from the mirror, as she walked back stopping beside her.
"I'm afraid there wasn't anything resembling a nightgown, but I did find a pajama top and a pair of shorts in Peeta's clothing you can use until we're able to find you something more suitable."
She laid the clothing in the girl's lap, Katniss's fingers left the robe, folding them around the edges of the clothes and lifting the material to her face, breathing in the clean scent of lemons. The clean laundry was exhilarating and Katniss had missed how something as simple as clean clothes made you feel whole and safe. She could feel a few tears welling up, as she lowered the clothing down to her lap. Hazelle watched her before she gave Katniss a quick smile.
"Well, dear I need to go but I will be back tomorrow."
Katniss looked up to her reflection mutely, as Hazelle turned to leave. The older woman was inches from the door knob, when she heard the girl speak.
"Thank you."
She turned and nodded," Of course."
Peeta had been pacing the first floor for about an hour before he decided to ascend the stairs, worried at how long it had been taking, surely it wasn't such an ordeal to get one girl cleaned and dressed. When he came to the landing he looked to both sides of the hallway directly connected to the staircase. The partially opened door of one of the guest rooms caught his eye, motivating him to walk to the right.
He assumed Hazelle was still coaxing the girl to at least brush her hair, or in the least sit in one room long enough before she decided to leave. He could hear the old floor boards creak before he reached the door, his hand at the inside of the door. Peering into the room, he assumed to find Hazelle, but instead he was met with the sight of the bare back of olive skin, marked with deep white scars, the difference in complexion easy to spot.
Her dark hair now wet and for the most part untangled, caught in the collar as the silk of the nightshirt slid down her body, her arms rose above her head. She had thankfully already covered her lower half with a pair of shorts, because Peeta already felt like a letch for being so enthralled in the sight of her skin. The material slid down her back to land beneath the hem of the shorts, her legs skinny but there was still enough tone left to show off some defined muscle.
Peeta's breathe caught in his throat as he watched her, his feet shifting, causing the boards to creak beneath him. Katniss turned sharply to the door, as Peeta ducked, jumping to the nearest side of the wall trying to conceal himself and his embarrassment.
He lowered his head in part shame and confusion, his hands worked through his hair, before he looked up to be staring in the green eyes of the woman he had come to know as a mother. She stood there silently, watching him closely. Peeta pulled at the collar of his simple gray shirt, he had changed out of his Capitol attire when Hazelle had been attending to Katniss. She was still studying him, when she spoke softly.
"Well it is nice to see you at least looking like yourself again."
Peeta pushed himself off of the wall," What's that supposed to mean?"
Hazelle held her hands palm's up," Why is she here, Peeta?"
"She needed help; a Peacekeeper was ready to execute her on the street. I couldn't just stand by and watch."
"Why not? You've seen how they are there. You've told me personally about stories, where you witnessed someone being killed for no reason other than they were district born, and trying to survive. So why is she any different than anyone else?"
Peeta threw his hands up, as he walked to the stairs," I don't have to justify my actions with you!"
She sighed turning to follow him," I'm not questioning your capacity for kindness. I just want to know where your head is."
Peeta wrapped his hands around each side of the banister, lowering his head," I couldn't let them hurt her. I think I saw something in her I've forgotten in myself."
Hazelle closed the gap laying a hand on his shoulder," What's that?"
"I don't know…maybe pride."
Hazelle took in a slow breath," Well just be careful, she's clearly traumatized and not just by what happened today, poor thing can barely share the room with another person without wanting to jump out of her skin."
Peeta nodded as Hazelle rounded him, her hand patting his arm, as he lifted his right arm free to let her pass.
"Rory and Vick will be waiting for me, but I'll be back in the morning as usual. Oh I gave the girl one of the spare rooms, and I managed to get her to eat a few cheese buns, poor thing almost choked from inhaling the bread so fast."
Peeta looked over," I couldn't get her to eat anything. How did you manage it? Did you use the mother tone?"
Hazelle stopped mid step to turn back to him," Perhaps I spoke to her as any human being should to another. She's not a small child Peeta or a wounded animal."
"I spoke to her as I would anyone," Peeta turned to the woman in front of him, a slight smirk on her face," And to be honest it's not easy to carry on a conversation with someone who refuses to do so."
"You're thinking like one of them."
"Well maybe I am…one of them?"
"Oh, Peeta if that were true you wouldn't have that young lady staying a few feet from where you're standing," she turned back to the down casting of stairs, her right pointer fingers waving in the air as she descended the stairs," There might just be hope for you yet."
Peeta shut his eyes closed as he tilted his head back breathing in deep. Hazelle had a way of making him think in ways he wouldn't necessarily relate to at first. He could hear the back door closing loudly as it rebounded from the frame to rest there eventually. Peeta stepped down the stairs locking up the bottom half of the house and turning off lights before he made his way back upstairs to where his room was located. He momentarily debated on seeing if the girl needed any assistance but he ruled against it.
He needed distance from her, having her so close to him was suffocating which only confused him more. Having a woman close to him was something he had known on a regular basis, it wasn't something out of the ordinary, so why was it that one woman who refused to speak to him or interact at all was able to illicit such reactions from him?
Peeta walked down the hallway to the large double doors of his room, reaching them he pushed them open. When he was fully into the room, he closed the doors behind him, his back still to them. Peeta pressed his body into the wood, exhaling softly before he began to unbutton his shirt, proceeding to get ready for bed.
He had tried to run the reasons through his head as to why he had intervened, it was true that he had seen such things in the Capitol on a regular basis, some were worse than what had been done to Katniss. So why was it that this one girl, her pain, had made him want to act? Perhaps she seemed just as lost as he felt? Perhaps in those small seconds of her defiance he saw a spark in her that he wished he possessed?
She had more courage than he could dream of, and he envied her that, and in a place deep down inside, he hated her for being stronger than he was. Because long ago he had been tested as she was, and he had given in.
AN: This is actually my second Hunger Games fanfiction to write, the previous one is quite long and waiting to be Beta'd. But I wanted to share this story. Let me know if there's any interest in continuing, and like always Reviews are Love.
-Stace
