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Author's Note: Glad to get reviews saying they are re-reading :D
PART II
S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O
For two more nights, Katniss was an offering to be claimed at the service of her masters. By the third night, there was no use to coax a response from her, as a numbness had encompassed her whole body. However, her mind was rebelling at her passivity, for allowing these acts to be committed against her will. Were they soulless monsters? Were these actions justifiable by their society where they were brought up in? It didn't matter, because she wasn't of value in the end, only the child, their child; she was just the breeding vessel.
It could've been much worse, she had heard from other women, at the Hob. Violence wasn't prohibited against the females, the masters own them and were free to do as they pleased. She had witness the care, the loving looks shared between her masters, seen the way they kissed. Katniss had to count the small blessing bestowed upon her. Her masters were a love match and they weren't prone to violence. This was the last time, for now. Time would tell if there would be a repeat in the near future.
"And now we wait. We are just weeks away from finding out if we are to be fathers! I can't hardly keep still… Kitty Kat, you can go. Good night." Finnick stretched on their bed, satisfied that in a couple of weeks they would get the greatest news.
Peeta watched as Katniss wobbled out of their room. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure how it would be received by her. He rubbed his face, at the same time catching her scent on his hands; it enticed him. He opted a washing was in order, to erase any trace of her essence. He cringed remembering the blood on his flaccid cock after the first time. Finnick had to calm him as he began to panic thinking he had broken her apart from the inside. It was part of the first time, it happens sometimes, he had said. How truly horrifying, Peeta thought, to be a woman.
The shower started on his command, always calibrated to the perfect temperature. Steam fogged the glass, giving him a sense of a closed bubble. No one could touch him here, but it didn't last long, though. Finn had other ideas, than simply wait for him in their bedroom. His lips found his neck, following up to his ear.
"Shit, Peet you fucking did it."
Finnick took what he wanted, and his body responded. Inside his mind, Peeta pleaded for it to be over, feeling wretched, the guilt consuming him. He knew deep within, that what they had done was wrong. And yet, his body betrayed him… wanting more, always wanting more. He felt like a slave to his carnal desires. Pinned to the wall, Peeta searched for air and a way to cleanse his consciousness, as it tortured him by the repeat showing of those gray lifeless eyes staring at him.
S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O
"How about Dorien Mellark-Odair? No? Let's see… Abercio Mellark-Odair. No, I'm not too keen on that one… Come on Peet, help me choose a name for our son."
Finnick took a sip of his coffee. He had to leave soon, or he would be late for his appointment with their District's Mayor. A senile man, that was only still in his post because of his partner's influence. Their relationship was the classical example of unity and cooperation. As the Mayor grew in years, his lover was right behind him fixing his blunders. It was heartwarming and uplifting, to witness such devotion. Not everyone was so lucky to find their soulmate in their matched partners. Finnick's gaze searched for Peeta's, only Peeta was staring at the kitchen.
"Prometeo Mellark-Odair? Our son would resemble a deity. Or maybe we should just call him Peter, something mundane and ordinary. PEETA! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Peeta reacted by letting his fork clatter against his plate. He hadn't eaten at all, simply pushing around his scrambled eggs. Two weeks had gone by, still he feeling contrite. He'd been a coward, not approaching her. She was there in the background, yet no one mentioned her. It was the child, their son, the topic of conversation. Finnick kept voicing out names, all Greek in origin.
Peeta wondered what name would Katniss pick for her son… dangerous thoughts plagued him. He wanted to face her, somehow ask forgiveness for what he'd done. He missed seeing her gray eyes, since now she denied him access to them. The few instances they had crossed paths, she had scattered like a frightened mouse. While, Finn acted like nothing had changed. Well, nothing had indeed changed for him. He was still Finnick Odair, the best lobbyist in the Capitol, the best District, the most prosperous. The poor Mayor didn't stand a chance this morning, when his lover pranced around relaying the new policies to be drafted, all for the sake of empowerment of the Republic of Panem. It repulsed him, as he could never be a kiss ass and spout lies to gain the favor of the privileged élite. What did they want now, he pondered. Everything was theirs for the taking. The other Districts were the exporters of every little aspect of their lives, even the women.
"How about Gale Mellark? It means-"
The sound of chattering glass disturbed their breakfast. Peeta stood abruptly, hesitating whether to enter the kitchen, where the sound came from. Finnick cleaned his mouth of food residue and stood as well.
"Are you all right? I think you should stay in today. You might be coming down with something. I'll be sure to come home right after I finish my scheduled meetings. Don't fret, I'm sure Old Mags will take care of it. That old bag might be a comfort to our Kat, as only women can. Leave them to it. I'll see you, this evening. Think on the names I mentioned."
Finnick picked his briefcase and slammed the door. It brought Peeta back to life, as he stood in the same place. Only the murmur of feminine voices could be heard and the scratching of a broom as it pushed the broken glass. Had something fallen out of Old Mags hands? It was very probable, with her age, yet something in his gut told him it had been Katniss.
"I'm so sorry," Katniss blubbered between panting breaths, as she tried to keep her panic at bay. From all the names, he had to choose Gale. Just thinking of it made her tremble. Taking hold of the counter, she forced herself to take deep breaths. Gale was most likely dead, for there was no way he would have complied with the Law. Gale Hawthorne had never known what the absence of freedom was like. He treasured like it, fully knowing how easily it could be taken away. He had been lucky to have lived most of his life in the outer rims of the dreaded Laws of Republic. His hatred for what Panem stood for, was something he would've died for. Seeing her being taken, must have stirred the deepest rebellion. Gale had been a fighter, and Katniss knew he had died as one.
Don't worry, dear. It's just glass, totally replaceable. Now, I need for you to eat those eggs and drink that milk. We don't need a sickly woman. You need your strength for what's to come.
Mags was an older woman with salt and pepper hair, and with the heart of a grandmother. Katniss never met her grandmother, but she imagined she would have been like Old Mags. She had explained that as women grew older, their roles changed to other domestic duties. She was happy to be with the Odair boys, as she called them. Mags always tried to appease Katniss with soothing words and tales of the long gone past. She had even told her of her own love story, of how she had fallen for her master, a man who resembled master Finnick, for he had been his father. She had warned Katniss that such affairs were forbidden by the Law, punishable to the extent of death if caught. In her case it was unrequited, for the man never returned her feelings. Katniss asked if then she was Finnick's mother, and she simply shrugged and kept cleaning. Would she end up like Mags? Cleaning after her son, without him knowing or caring that she had bore him.
Tears spilled, as she reminisced about her childhood, how she had been fortunate to have her mother and father, to live with her sibling. She contemplated how many women had simply given up and taken their own lives.
"Shh… none of that now, you mustn't feel depressed, this child is a blessing. You'll see."
S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O
Katniss was sitting in the indoor garden, singing to herself in a fail attempt to pacify her startled nerves. She simply couldn't forget Gale's face the last time she saw him. She was certain he wanted to say more… he wanted to ask for her to be his. She would have said yes. Life had other plans set in motion for her, none that included a life of her own.
"Is e-everything t-to your liking? D-do you need something in particular? I could-"
She had gone quiet, and it had given Peeta the chance to interrupt. Her skin turned from white to red to white in mere seconds, he got worried she would faint.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disturb your singing… you have a lovely voice. I could hear it, and I simply had to come… I'll leave you be."
She cleared her throat, searching for the words to answer her master.
"Did I interfere with your slumber? Please forgive me, master. It wasn't my intention. I will retire to my room."
She stood ready to sprint to her room, but his hand gripped her wrist stopping her from moving any further. She wanted to brush his hand off, to scream at his face. She schooled her face to a façade of indifference. He couldn't hurt her anymore. If any deity cared for her, she would be free of him for the next nine months.
"Call me Peeta, not Master. Just Peeta. I'm deeply sorry for intruding. You may stay as long as you want. I guess it was foolish of me to think… never mind. I'm not usually at home. Even if my job isn't as prominent as Finn's, I do get commissions from people with too much money and time on their hands, for portraits. And now I'll shut up. Good day, Katniss."
Just as abruptly as he had appeared, Peeta left a bewildered Katniss behind. The only good thing he took from their encounter was seeing her eyes ignite, even if was in bottled rage.
