Chapter 3

My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am eighteen years old. My home is now called Appalachia. I was in two Hunger Games. I survived. Panem has changed and continues to change. I am in love with Peeta, and we continue to grow ever closer. Now, I fear President Paylor brings bad news…

President Paylor is tightly wrapped in layers of coats and scarves. If her face were covered, I wouldn't have recognized her. There is also a gold emblem of the Capitol's seal pinned to the lapel of her outer coat. It's probably a symbol of her place on the Council. I can barely remember the last time I saw her, it was the day I was pardoned after I assassinated Coin. No one told me but I'm positive she's one of the reasons why I left the Capitol with my life. I should thank her, except I'm at a loss of words, and despite my thoughts, nothing comes to mind.

I take a moment to examine her. When I first met Paylor, she seemed young to be the commander of the rebel forces at District 8. For such a young woman to be so strong and powerful, I admired her. Now, she still carries the same presence of authority, but she looks weak and haggard. Large circles have developed beneath her bloodshot eyes, probably the result of sleepless nights; and her cheeks are slightly sunk in. I'm not surprised. Ever since Panem became free of the Capitol's oppression, she's been working hard to establish a republic. Despite some setbacks, she's had a lot of success. However, at what cost? After looking at her, I'm not sure if I could do it. Then another thing comes to mind, Why is she here?

"Oh, will you shake her hand and let us in already?" a familiar, high-pitched voice calls out from behind Paylor's bodyguards. The two men stand like giants, they remind me of Thresh, but don winter body armor bearing the Capitol's emblem over their hearts. They also remind me of Peacekeepers, but the air about them is completely different. While they're intimidating, they make me feel oddly safe and secure. Effie forces herself between the two towers and sidesteps Paylor to greet me.

"Effie?" I say, stunned. If only I had a mirror so I could see the dumbfounded expression on my face. She's dressed like Paylor, wrapped in layers, but her face is covered in the same old Capitol makeup of white and pink. I can even see her baby blue hair scrunched beneath the beanie and hood that encompass her head.

"My dear, Katniss," she replies with real sincerity. "Well, are you going to shake her hand or what?" I shake my head to break my moment of disbelief and take Paylor's hand in mine. We exchange a strong shake before I take a step back to let my visitors in.

"What are you doing here?" I ask Effie as she gives me a strong but plushy hug due to her layers. It's certainly has been a while.

"The Council has chosen me to be the Capitol's ambassador to the people of Appalachia," she says as she smoothens out the cushion of my couch before taking a seat. "Isn't it wonderful?" I simply smile at her. I'm not sure how I feel about it. To be honest, I never liked Effie at first. She was the living embodiment of the Capitol's oppression and vanity. Every time I saw her, two children left with her to their doom, until the year Peeta was reaped and I volunteered. However, as I grew to know her, I came to realize she wasn't that bad. It was easy for her to annoy me and it was easy for me to annoy her, but there was a sense of mutual respect between us. Effie even has her moments, but I'm not sure if this is one of them.

Paylor doesn't share her enthusiasm, unfortunately. I can see the concern on her face, but she doesn't say anything to ruin Effie's mood. She takes a seat in the chair across from Effie and her bodyguards flank her, standing with their hands behind their backs at ease. Then I see the guns attached to the holsters at their wastes.

I look at Effie and remember my manners. "Would you like some tea?" I ask.

"That would be lovely, Katniss," Paylor replies as she pulls the gloves off her hands. The gloves are old leather, different from the rest of her attire, which looks fairly new and hardly worn. Her clothes say Capitol, but her gloves tell me something else. They're probably remnants of her old life in District 8, when she was their leader. But now, she's the leader of Panem. I'm sure she misses it. I would.

"So would I," Effie chimes in as I exit the living room for the kitchen, but I pause in the archway.

"Would your…" I try to think of how I should address Paylor's bodyguards. I share glances with them and receive my answer: no. As I start to boil the water on the stove, I can hear movement upstairs from my bedroom.

Peeta must have woken. The springs of the bed squeak. The covers and blankets are fixed. The wood panels creak with every step. The closet opens for retrieval of fresh clothes. I turn my head to look over my shoulder and see the others hear him as well. Paylor's men have their hands on their holsters but they keep their cool. "Don't worry about him."

"Him?" Effie catches on with a squeal. My face must be incredibly scarlet to cause the bodyguards to shift uncomfortably. At least they're no longer ready to draw their weapons.

"It's Peeta," I finally reply. Effie lets out a cry of joy and claps her hands together. Today, today I definitely hate her.

"Peeta Mellark?" Paylor wonders aloud. I nod. "Good, I was hoping to talk to him too."

"What is this about?" I ask. It doesn't take long for the water to boil and the kettle starts to whistle. The wailing covers the awkward silence developing between us.

"It's better if we wait for him," she answers. Now I'm concerned, but decide not to push the topic. Paylor will answer my questions when she's ready. To keep myself busy as we await Peeta's eventual arrival, I grab a bunch of cups and place them on a tray. I don't pay attention to the number of cups; I just make sure there's enough. The wonderful smell of the brew engulfs my nose as I mix the water with the tealeaves in the pot.

When I place the tray on the table in the middle of the living room, I hear Peeta descend the stairs. His feet are heavy; it's obvious he's trying to delay his inevitable entrance. I try not to laugh at the current predicament. I just made tea for the first time in ages. Paylor and her bodyguards are waiting quietly in my living room. Effie is a bouncing bundle of joy. And Peeta, well, he's trying to prolong it all from tumbling down.

"Peeta," I call to him, annoyed. "Will you just come down already?" There is a pause, followed by his usual pace. Peeta casually walks into the room, but he fails to cover his flustered face.

"H-hello," he stumbles with his words.

"Peeta," Effie doesn't try to hide her ecstasy. "I'm so happy for you two!" Now we're both bright red.

"It's nice to see you too, Effie," he mutters. When he realizes Paylor is also in the room, he immediately closes his legs, heels touching, and brings his arms to his sides, thumbs along the seams of his jeans. He's at attention, a side effect of his training from District 13. After he returned from the Capitol, the best way for him to cope with the flashbacks was to put everything into his training.

"At ease, Peeta," Paylor waves him off with a smile, probably her first real one of the day. "Actually, Peeta, can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," he stutters.

"Can you get Haymitch?" she responds. "I think he should be present to hear what I have to say." Peeta nods and quickly runs out of the house. What do I do to pass the awful minutes? I pour tea for every cup on the tray, there's seven for the five of us. Paylor takes hers with two sugars and milk. Effie takes hers with lots of milk. I take mine with a sugar cube and touch of cinnamon. Haymitch takes his with a splash of white liquor. Peeta, he likes it the way it's brewed, but I'm positive he'll want something to go with my brew.

We sit in silence for about 10 minutes before Peeta arrives with Haymitch. By this time, their cups have cooled and the pot is nearly empty. I manage to get Paylor's men to drink their fair share as well, about a third of the pot.

When Haymitch enters the room, I can smell the alcohol on him. It's not dense like his house, but it's enough to wrinkle my nose. He takes a seat next to Effie; she scoots over to the edge of the couch and rests on the arm support.

Peeta stands behind me and places his hands against the back of the chair for support. I can feel his fingers playing with my hair and I try my hardest to not reciprocate his affection. Slowly, I lean my head back against his stomach to look up at him. He smiles and I smile back, then I turn my attention to Paylor.

"So, what's this all about," Haymitch grumbles as he adds a mysterious liquid, which I assume to be alcohol, from his flask to his tea.

"I shouldn't have to say this," Paylor begins, "but I'm going to say it anyways. Whatever is said in this room never leaves this room. Understood?" Our silence is her answer. "We might be in some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Peeta asks.

"Threat of insurgency; rumor of potential coup; dissent within the ranks of the military; whispers within my own Council plotting for my resignation, and possible assassination. The list goes on and it's not good." She says gravely and waits for us to absorb the information as she takes a sip of her tea.

"Oh dear," Effie mutters to herself. She's obviously been out of the loop like the rest of us. "Insurgents? Coup? What has this world come down to?"

"Why would someone want you to resign? Kill you?" I ask Paylor.

"For a myriad of reasons, Katniss," Paylor responds calmly with melancholy in her voice. "Many people believe I've been too soft. They wanted the rebel commander of District 8, not this fragile woman you see today. Many people wanted the Capitol to be razed to the ground, but I stopped it from happening." The thought of watching the Capitol burn scares me. If you had asked me before the Games, I might have supported it, but now, now I'm not so sure. There's been so much loss and I don't think we can afford any more of dead.

"You're not soft," I blurt out, trying to defend her from these false accusations. She simply replies with a soft smile.

"Everyone has an agenda, Katniss," Haymitch says, rubbing his brow with his free hand. "If they can't force her to resign, then they'll focus on building up an opposition to her when she runs for reelection. The fact is, not everyone agrees with Paylor's methods and would prefer to do things their way. It was dangerous to challenge Coin, but not Paylor, apparently. Some people can be quite prideful and quite stupid."

"I'm so sorry," I apologize for no reason. It doesn't make sense, at least not to me. Why do people hate Paylor? She was a commander during the rebellion. She oversaw the trials of the Capitol officials, including Snow's. She banned the Games from ever happening again. Peace and freedom is what she gave us. Peeta's hands lightly squeeze my shoulders, communicating his sympathies. It's good to know he has my back.

"It's okay, Katniss," Paylor assures me, I feel like a child when she addresses me. "Politics is a whole new kind of game. And not one I was prepared for, to be honest. I stay awake for hours trying to figure out what to do next. It's hard to get things that need to be done while trying to appease those with power." I understand her bloodshot eyes and the bags under them. "But it's not as bad as it sounds."

"So, what do you need from us?" Haymitch asks. It appears discretion has never been in his wheelhouse like mine. He's always been more crass and honest, a quality I actually like about him, sometimes.

"I need your help," Paylor tells us.

"How can we help?" says Peeta.

"I need you to return with me to the Capitol."

Her words still ring in my ears. The sun has already set, bringing another night of heavy snowfall. I'm ashamed to admit I zoned out for the rest of the conversation. Peeta was ready to ask the hard questions for me, such as why she needed our help. Paylor informed us that there are very few people she can really trust. Those people were members of her inner circle, the soldiers that were under her command in District 8, and us. And after everything that's happened, the list has become incredibly short.

Paylor told us we didn't have to give her an answer immediately, but she hoped for one by the week's end when she returned to the Capitol. That gave us roughly two days to decide. Haymitch wasn't pleased with the way things were unfolding but agreed to follow her back on the spot. So did Effie, even though she didn't know what she could do to actually help.

And Peeta? He didn't give her an answer, and not because he was being indecisive. No, he was waiting for me, but I hesitated. Whichever choice I made, he would follow, but I couldn't make it at the time. I don't know if I can handle returning to Capitol. The memories of the Games, the dead and lost, and the war still plague me. And then there was Prim, the best and the worst of it all. If Paylor had asked the old Katniss, she would have left in a heartbeat. And that's the problem, isn't it? She died a long time ago with her little sister.

If I did return to Capitol, what would it be like? Would they hate me? Love me? Try to have me executed on the spot? I left them in complete chaos and to pick up the pieces after killing Coin. It was the least I deserved for causing so much trouble. Even if everything was fine, I still might not be able to handle it and break under the pressure. It seems I'm back at square one, but something's different this time around, I now have a certain someone in my life.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers to me as he places a cup of freshly made hot chocolate on the table. I look down at the brown, creamy liquid; it swirls in soft circles. It's almost mesmerizing and the smell of the sweet chocolate is intoxicating. "Are you with me?"

"Yes," I reply as my hands wrap around the cup. The heat that radiates from the thin porcelain slowly brings life back to my fingers, then my hands, and then my arms. Carefully, so I don't spill a single drop, I bring it to my lips and take a sip. It tastes even sweeter than it smells, revitalizing me completely and dissipating the haze I was under. It's just as good as it was on the train to the Capitol. I tilt my head back and finish it in a single chug, slightly burning my tongue and giving Peeta a laugh. "I'm sorry." I wipe the corners of my mouth with the sleeve of my sweater

"Don't be," Peeta sets a chair beside me and takes a seat, wrapping his arm around me. "I'm happy you like it. Effie left me a box of the stuff."

"A box?" I wonder and turn my head towards the counter top. There is a small, opened box, filled with two rows of packets. It reminds me of those teabags used in the Capitol. Instead of simply placing the leaves into the water to make their tea, they would submerge the bag into the pot. Besides the box is the packet used for my chocolate, it's ripped open and brown powder litters the surface of the white counter. "You mix it?"

"Apparently," he replies. "It's highly concentrated, so all you have to do is add warm water, just like brewing tea. After pouring it in, you stir it. And there you have it, hot chocolate. It's even sweeter when not mixed." I give him a look. "What? I was curious. I might even use it for baking and Effie told me it also goes well with cold milk."

"Milk?" I lick the rim of the cup. The last of the sweet, chocolate nectar is gone. I turn my head and give Peeta a soft kiss to give my thanks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Peeta finally addresses the question that has been preying on me since Paylor left. I'm thankful he didn't push me to give her an answer earlier. Like me, I know he's still haunted by what happened in the Capitol.

"What do you think?" I ask him, but I already know the answer to my question.

"I think," he clears his throat. "I think we should do it." Of course he would want to help her. That was Peeta. Despite his ghosts, he still wants to help, he always wants to help; I on the other hand, don't share that quality. I was always more of a survivalist and loner, but I'm not even that anymore. Peeta wouldn't leave without me, but I'm positive he's going to try his hardest to convince me. He's not very hard to predict.

"You must be tired of hearing me say the same thing," I mutter, breaking eye contact with him.

"I know you're afraid," Peeta confirms. "And so am I, but as long as I'm with you… The thought of returning to the Capitol terrifies me. However, Paylor, Panem, they all need us." He isn't exactly poetic this time, but his sincerity is almost enough to persuade me. "I'm not going to lie, Katniss, it's going to be hard. I know you haven't completely recovered from Prim's death." His words run through me like icy daggers.

"Prim…" I say softly. The thought of her is enough to break me, so I change the subject back to Paylor to keep my sanity. And I thought I had managed to move on. "Do you think we can do it? Help Paylor?"

"I think we can. We should at least try," Peeta assures me. "This past year, I've never been happier, but to be honest, I'm tired of living one day at a time. And I know you are too. Maybe, this is our chance. We won't be starting over, instead, we'll be moving forward." I stand up, breaking his embrace and take the cup with me to the sink to wash.

"Moving forward, huh…" I put it under the faucet and run the water.

"We might as well try," Peeta says again.

I can't sleep, but it's not because of nightmares. Peeta's words continue to replay in my mind. And the blizzard outside doesn't help, chunks of ice pound into the windows and walls. We have been living each day at a time. I can't deny that. Maybe it was time to break routine and make a real change in my life. I think about Prim, she would want me to help, and that's enough to affirm my decision. It's time to move forward.

Peeta isn't asleep when I tap his shoulder. He listens in complete silence as I give him my answer. I accept Paylor's request to return with her, but acknowledge my reservations on the matter. The best thing for us to do is go with her to the Capitol, to face our demons and help Panem. However, I don't want to go in blind. We need to talk with Haymitch.

He agrees. Then he takes my hands into his and gingerly presses his lips against them. A sigh of enjoyment escapes me, and I turn around, pulling his arms around me. I'm not sure what the future holds for the girl on fire and the boy with the bread. But one thing is certain, with him by my side, I can move forward.