Madge P.O.V
Gale's alive. He's alive and well and working in some important government position.
I'm alive. I'm alive and miserable and a prisoner in some important government facility.
Gale looks amazing. He's tall and strong and bronze. His dark hair is the same as it always was. His stormy eyes still hold their intensity. His bronzed skin is still riddled with scars. And he's still intensely handsome.
I look horrible. I'm weak and malnourished and pale. My blonde hair is knotted and hasn't been washed in days. My eyes are dull and lifeless. My skin is covered with what feels like a permanent film of dirt. And I've never looked worse in all my life.
So naturally, now is the time he starts to notice me.
For years I've been in love with him. Have craved those chance meetings in the hallways at school and on the streets of District 12. For years I have made sure I always leave the house looking better then I think necessary for the chance that I do run into him. Hoping and praying that one day, he will notice me and fall in love with me.
And now I know that's never going to happen. Because I'm a prisoner in the important government facility where he has some important government position. Because he's tall and strong and bronze and I'm not. Because my hair looks like someone threw it in a blender then plopped it back on my head and his looks shiny and smooth and beautiful. Because his eyes shine a brilliant grey and my blue eyes seem to fall flat compared to his. Because his bronze skin holds a history of war in its scars and my pale skin holds a history of weakness in its fragility. Because he's flawless and I'm so flawed.
I sit on my bed, staring through the bars on my window. The sun tries to shine through a cover of clouds, but eventual gives up and sinks into the horizon. The moon takes its place, now waging its own war against the clouds. Every time I hear footsteps my mind flashes to Gale, but it's only a changing of the guards. They bring me dinner on a plastic tray and I eat slowly, like I was taught to. Eventually the moon rises to its peak in the sky and I fall asleep.
I'm woken up the next morning by a soldier roughly pushing me with the tip of a gun. I shoot up, surprised by the rough awakening. Three more soldiers surround me and lead me through a maze of hallways. I end up in a large room. A large table occupies a large portion of the room. It's strewn with a wide arrangement of maps. The wall to my right is a large screen broken up into many smaller screens. Around the table sits a variety of important looking people. Including Gale.
I take a series of deep breaths in order to control my pounding heart. Gale looks relaxed in this room, like he belongs there. I look at him a moment longer, quickly observing that he's not as relaxed as he's trying to be. Gale's face looks controlled, his lips drawn in a taught line. His shoulders are stiff and his chin is slightly raised, all signs that he's stressed under his well kept together exterior.
"How did you enjoy your first night here?" asks the man who met me at the gate when they first brought me here. I know he's someone very important, but for the life of me I can't remember his name.
"It was nice," I lie. "Thank you for asking, sir." I refuse to let my manners fall, no matter how badly I want to let loose and ask him how he'd like waking up to a gun buried in his ribs.
"Good to hear," he says. "We have a few questions for you. Would you be willing to answer them?" he asks me. I know this isn't a real question. If I say no, he'll find means to make me answer.
"Of course."
"Good. Very good." His voice grates against my eardrums. There's something dangerous under the sweet sound. Like every word he says is a warning, or more accurately, a threat. "How did you survive the bombing?" No preamble. No warm-up questions. Right into the hard stuff.
"I was in the meadow with my friend, Fawn, when the first bomb was dropped." I relive the moment in my mind. Walking through the meadow one moment, talking to Fawn, one of my father's servants, about something shallow, when the bomb dropped and brought with it the end of my life. "I tried to go back to our house, but by the time I got there it was already in ruins. After that, I didn't know what to do, so I ran into the woods. After awhile the smell of smoke started to fade and I was lost.
"That first night I tried sleeping in a tree like Katniss did in the Hunger Games. I ended out falling out and hurting my shoulder. After that I just walked, always forward, hoping that I'd run into some kind of civilization. I ate these weird purple berries as I walked, but they were never enough to curb my hunger and I dreamed of Capitol food." I flash back to those days, a blur of exhaustion and hunger and walking. I don't know how long I was lost in those woods. The days and nights were indistinguishable from each other.
"After some time I came across an area that was covered in ruins." I remember the horror I first felt when I thought I had returned to District 12, fearing that I had been walking for years. "I stumbled across the rubble, planning on sleeping alongside a broken section of wall, when I was arrested. They brought me to a complex underground facility and held me in a bare room, with my wrists bound to the wall. This woman came in and started asking me questions about me and my family. She didn't believe me when I told her they were dead and started to…" I broke off, taking a deep breath and trying to choke down tears.
"She started to torture me. She kept asking if I knew who she was. She said her name was…" I wrack my mind trying to remember what she said. "It was Coin I think. I think she said she was the President of—"
"No!" Gale said, shooting out of his seat. My eyes flash to his outraged face. "No. No way. There is—that's just not possible. She was not in District 13. I would have known." The important man that's in charge of this interview stands too.
"Commander Hawthorne! Sit down!" The rigidity in his shoulders doesn't relax. The fire remains in his eyes, but he obeys the order. "Continue."
"After a while she sent me to the Capitol, saying that I should be with the other scum like me. So I went and I met Naja. She hid me and fed me. In return for safety, I worked for her, sewing clothes and making meals and stuff like that. Stuff for her and her store. I was there for months. Two days ago they broke into the cellar where I'd been staying and I thought the rebel soldiers had caught us. And then I learned the war had been over for months and I'd been working for nothing. And now I'm a prisoner." I steal a glance at Gale. His eyes are closed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Interesting. Is it true?" the man asks.
"I couldn't make up a story like that if I wanted to." He nods slowly, considering my words.
"Commander Hawthorne has given a request for your forgiveness. I trust his judgment, so we're going to try something new. Are you willing to become a NUO?"
"A what, sir?"
"A New Union Officer. You would join our forces and be trained to fight in—"
"That is not what I meant," says Gale speaking up again. This time his voice is quieter. "I didn't mean that I wanted her to be thrown into combat. Look at her. Does she look like a fighter to you?" he asks gesturing to me. I raise my chin defiantly.
"I'm a fighter!" I say. The important looking man motions for me to remain silent. I bite the inside of my lip.
"She's enough of a fighter to live this long. She must be enough of a fighter to sit in a district and make sure no one breaks any rules." I look up and meet Gale's eyes. He slowly shakes his head.
"Please, sir, if I could just—"
"That will be enough, Commander Hawthorne! You're dismissed." Gales shocked gaze shoots up and meets the man's authoritative eyes. He nods once compliantly and leaves the room. The man turns his attention to me.
"Will you agree to fight with us?" he asks.
"Yes, sir."
"As of now, you will attend training. You will remain in the same cell as you were in last night. You will be accompanied by at least two guards at all times. You will have meals brought to your room and you will eat them there. These rules will be in effect until you have proven yourself. Do I make myself perfectly clear."
"Yes, sir."
"Escort her to her room," he says to the guards. The behind me keeps a gun trained on my back for the duration of the walk. When we reach my door, I see Gale, leaning against the wall beside it.
"15," he says with a nod at the soldier in front.
"Commander." Gale opens the door and I walk in it. He walks in after me, followed by the soldier he called 15. He turns and shoots a look at him.
"15, are you trying to insult me, or is it unintentional?"
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"Well, it just seems to me that you don't think that I, a highly trained, armed soldier, can't handle her, a weak, tiny unarmed girl."
"I'm sorry, sir. No disrespect meant, sir." The poor soldier stood there, shaking in his boots.
"You're dismissed, 15," Gale said, his voice booming with authority. I flash a glance at the soldier as he leaves the room and then at Gale. I stand by the window, my hands crossed over my chest, and glare at Gale.
"You're really mean to him, Gale," I say, the feeling of his name on my tongue sending a thrill through my system.
"You idiot girl," he says. I shrink away from him. The full fury of his eyes turns to me. "You really think you'll have a nice life as a soldier? You think they'll all welcome you with open arms? Honestly, Madge, what were you thinking?" My response is immediate.
"I was thinking I don't want to be tortured again. I was thinking I don't want to rot to death in this place," I say gesturing to the barred window. "I was thinking I want to see the sky without thick metal bars obscuring my view. That's what I was thinking."
"You could be killed!"
"Working as a Peacekeeper?" I ask, equally outraged.
"People die of stupider things," he says. His eyes are clouded with memory.
"Why do you even care?" I ask him, honestly curious. Before, I was just Katniss's friend. The girl who gave her the Mockingjay pin. The girl who gave him the morphling, not that he ever knew about that.
"Because you're from home, and I've grown fiercely protective of anything that comes from home." Some deep, desperate part of me was hoping it was because he realized he cared about me. More even. That he loved me. Stupid thought.
"I'm a big girl," I whisper. "I can take care of myself." I hear him walk forward. He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"Maybe you can," he says. "But I don't want to take the chance. If there's any problem, if anyone tries to bully you or hurt you, you tell me immediately. I'll be stopping by here during your meals. I expect a report then."
"You can't tell me what to do."
"Think again, Soldier Undersee. I'm a Commander, therefore I outrank you. Of course I can tell you what to do." He releases my chin and steps away. He takes a quick glance at his watch then looks back at me. "I'll bring you your lunch in two hours." He leaves without waiting for a reply. I walked to my bed and sink into it.
Guaranteed time with Gale. Somehow I don't think it's going to be like I imagined it.
