Title: Dancing Monkeys
Author: catty-the-spy
Rating: PG
Pairing: Katniss/Peeta, implied Gale/Madge
Warnings: threat of violence, arguments, au
Notes: for a comment_fic prompt. Takes place before "Habits" in the Victor sequence. You don't need to have read the others to understand this.
Summary: "There's nothing else - just us - and the cameras - and those wonderful people out there in the dark." The Capitol turns the wheel, and Katniss and Peeta dance.
They needed to do something about that chair. The constant creak as Markis rocked was burrowing into Katniss' temples, beating in time with the pain in her head. She could hear it just under the buzz of conversation. She hoped the cameras pick it up, hoped the viewers were annoyed too.
The creaking matched the tick in Gale's jaw from across the room. Katniss hoped he didn't make the wrong kind of scene. As her "cousin", he had no choice but to attend this televised party, and unlike Haymitch, he wasn't able to endure it by getting drunk.
Katniss knew that the Capitol was just waiting for Gale to be a problem. One wrong move, wrong word, wrong act, and the steady stream of food would dry up. It'd been years since she'd had any half-starved tributes; she won't go back to that. She can't.
Creak. Someone offered Gale a bright fizzy beverage that Katniss knew for a fact was worth a week's pay in the Seam. Madge, on Gale's other side, deftly directed the tray to her right, where Laura – the victor with the thick knot of scar tissue climbing from her neck to her scalp – was steadily tossing them back.
Creak. The bright lights brought in by the camera crew made Katniss' eyes water, and her perfume made her nose itch. It stank of roses; it made her nauseous.
Creak. Peeta squeezed her hand as he passed, carrying a cake he hadn't baked and pasting on a smile at the praise he received. Katniss expected their kitchen to be covered in flour the next morning; she hoped he didn't bake while covered in half dried paint again.
Creak. Peeta offered Gale a piece of cake, a camera man peering over his shoulder. Gale's nostrils flared. Peeta smiled, nice and easy, and gave the cake to Madge. Laura ate and ate and ate.
Creak. One of Katniss' victors thanked Mayor Undersee and President Snow for the oppourtinity to host such a wonderful party – laying it on a bit too thick in Katniss' opinion.
The gust of wind from the open door made Katniss' hair stand on end. Gale slammed the door so hard the windows shook.
Katniss stood to follow him but Madge was already on her way out the door. Katniss slowly lowered herself back into her seat.
"Is everything alright?" Peeta asked. He was stroking Markis' hair, trying to tempt him with cake – the door must've sounded too much like a cannon.
"I think he had too much to drink," Katniss said, mindful of the cameras. "He probably thought the cold would sooth his stomach."
Peeta nodded easily enough, but his eyes were searching. Katniss looked away, looked at her delicate expensive wineglass, with its clear undiluted liquor. She drank it all in one go.
Markis smashed his cake, crushing the fondant rose with his fingers.
Gale was in a mood the next day. He didn't talk to her while they check their traps, didn't even look at her. She hated it when he got like this.
Katniss couldn't stop hunting, even now. She's going to strengthen her district, one squirrel at a time, one fake smile and haughty smile at a time, one win and one loss and one arrow at a time. In the woods, she could get dirt under her nails, relax her posture, be Katniss Everdeen rather than the Girl on Fire. Gale was the only person she shared this with.
When they stopped to eat, Katniss offered Gale some of the food she'd brought as a peace offering. He made a face. "I don't need any of that Capitol crap."
Katniss scowled. "You must only eat the food you gather out here then. In case you hadn't noticed, everything's Capitol crap these days."
"And who do we have to thank for that?"
Katniss felt her face heat. "Yeah, well, you're welcome. Your nephews won't have to take out any tesserae because of me."
Gale looked out over the trees, his face dark. "We're all just good little puppets."
"You got something to say to me, Gale?"
"I can't believe you! Sitting there thanking them for letting you live! After everything they've done to you, you just sit there asking for more."
"That was Jamie, not me."
"You just let him! Nodded along and didn't say anything." Gale threw up his hands. "This is ridiculous. It's like you've bought in."
"I haven't, okay! We act, Gale, just like we always have." Katniss got to her feet. "This is my life, Gale. It always will be! We smile, we laugh, we do the best we can, and it doesn't stop! It never stops! There's nothing else, just us – and the cameras – the people inside that fence, hoping we don't do anything to get them killed." She turned away, lowering her voice. "You had to know what we were getting into when we survived the games. Once you get caught in the trap…."
"You jump when they say jump, and if they told you to dive off a cliff you'd do it. You're afraid, Katniss, that's all it is."
"Maybe I am afraid," she snapped. "What does it matter? Even if I weren't, we'd still be right here. Do you know what happens when you don't cooperate? You end up just like Eight."
"Eight?" Gale asked, genuinely confused.
Katniss sighed. "District Eight tried to rebel. They've been dying in droves. No," she added, when she saw the look on Gale's face. "Don't even think about it. You can't tell anyone. I shouldn't have even told you. Anyone you talk to about it is going to die. Have you seen what they've been doing to the tributes from Eight? Can you imagine that happening to your family? To any family here, and knowing that it was your own fault?"
"When did you get to be such a coward, Catnip?"
Katniss picked up one of the little sandwiches left over from last night. She's been wondering that, herself.