Stuffing my cold and stiff fingers into the box in my hands, I clumsily pull out a long wood match and strike it against the river stones that make up the hearth of my kitchen fireplace. I touch the flame to the kindling I've piled in the back of the firebox and the dry timber catches fast. I quickly piling on a few logs and within a few minutes, the fire is crackling loudly. Scooting closer to the flames, I hold out my icy hands to the orange and yellow tongues licking at the logs. Thirty minutes of hiding in Peeta's bushes in the poring spring-rain had chilled me deep into my core, so much so, that in spite of dry clothes and the blazing fire I'm still shivering.
Rubbing my hands along my arms, I look to the rocker behind me for a light blanket I sometimes fold across the back. The blanket is missing but one of Peeta's sweaters lies in its spot. Reluctantly, I leave my preach on the hearth to retrieved the item and yank it over my head. The gray-blue wool falls loosely around my small frame, hanging off one shoulder and skirting over my hips to land around mid-thigh. Reaching a hand behind my head I pull the attached hood up to cover my still damp hair and catch the scent of dill and cinnamon, the smell of Peeta. The warmth of the sweater beings to thaw me but it's the smell of Peeta that helps me to begin to relax for the first time since my nightmare.
Taking up the fire poker, I move back the warmth of burning logs and gently begin arranging them. Satisfied, I replace the poker and take a seat on the hearth again, my knees tucked up against my chest, the sweater pulled over. I watch as sparks float carelessly up the flue and sigh. I'm finally warm and the sensation is making my drowsy. Chin on my knees, I'm close to drifting off when a muted mews followed by a persistent scrapping pulls me back to consciousness. My gaze goes to the window over the sink, just beyond the glass on the sill is Buttercup looking anxious and annoyed. Unfurling myself from myself from my perch, I curse softly as my bare feet hit the cold floor. Annoyed at my loss of warm comfort, I stomp over to the kitchen window and yank the window open. Unimpressed with my show of annoyance, Buttercup sits stone still on the sill, staring at me. I give the straggly cat a once one, over I notice he looks dry, save his feet and that I'm sure are just wet from walking in the grass.
"How are you so dry?" I grumble, his reply is an unblinking stare. A cool morning breeze stirs my hair and the kitchen curtains and I shiver. "Well, are you coming in or not?" I demand. He stares up at me for another second before deciding to take my invitation. He slowly saunters in and jumps silently to the floor. As I secure the window Buttercup, begins turning figure eights between my legs. "From distance and aloof to cute and cuddly in less than a second, you're a piece of work, you know that right?" I mutter stepping over him and heading in for the fridge. Taking some leftover fish out, I squat down and put the plate down in front of him. Buttercup cautiously sniffs my offering and looks up at me unimpressed. I laugh. "Really! This isn't good enough for you your highness?" I ask, giving the cat as scratch between the ears. "I suppose it's my own fault for feeding you bacon," I confess. "Well fuzz ball, Peeta isn't here, so no breakfast yet. It's this or you wait." We're staring at each other when a knock at the front door startles us both. I glance toward the front room and back down at the cat. "Who can that be," I ask him as if he might answer. Peeta, Haymitch, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter Annabeth, are my only regular visitors and they come and go as if they live here. I've not had a single visitor who would knock.
Standing up, I walk hesitantly towards the front door. My visitor knocks again. I hasten my approach and quickly pull open the door. When my eyes meet those of my guest, I stumble backward a few steps in shock.
"Good morning Katnip," Gale says smoothly.
I blink once, twice, three times; my mind racing. "What are you doing here?" I finally manage to whisper.
Unfazed, he smiles his easy smile at me, "Well it's a bit of story, could I maybe come in so we could talk about it?" he asks.
My mind is whirling with so many thoughts I'm frozen in the doorway, unable to reply.
Gale rubs the back of his neck and lowers his eyes to meet mine, "If we are going to do this on the front stoop, maybe you should get a coat, it's kind of cool out here this morning," he offers gently.
With his suggestion, I'm suddenly aware of cold wind nipping at my nose and fingertips. Pulling my hands further into the sleeves of Peeta sweater, I shake my head and take a step back. "Sorry," I mutter, "come in."
Gale steps in, closing the door behind him. For a long moment, we simply stare at each other, then when he does open his mouth to speak his first words are cut short with the sound of the back door opening and Peeta's easily identifiable footsteps in the kitchen. The look of annoyance that flashes across his face at the interruption immediately puts me on the defensive.
In the kitchen, I hear the refrigerator door open and items being moved around inside of it. "Katniss?" Peeta calls out casually.
"I'm in the living room," I manage to answer, my throat tight with tension.
"I brought you some cheese buns," he says, the smile on his face evident in his voice. "Oh and I had an idea for the dinner tonight," he says, the sounds of opening cabinets and drawers following him as he moves about the kitchen.
I answer automatically, "Whats that?", but I'm not comprehending the conversation, my mind is simply making circles trying to make sense out of Gale standing in my living room.
"I have a few oranges and I thought I might try and make that orange sauce we had on tour. I know this is turkey, not those little birds they used, but I don't think that should matter much. What do you think?" he asks.
Blinking my eyes a few times and my head begins to clear. "Peeta could you come in here please," I ask.
I hear Peeta making his way from the kitchen to the living room but his footfalls come to an abrupt stop a few feet behind me. Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I find him standing in the kitchen doorway with a look on his face that makes my stomach tighten. With his jaw set and his eyes hard, he is successfully managing to look angry and unimpressed at the same time. It's a look I know all too well, as I was on the receiving end of it a number of times during the height of his hatred for me. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and hold my breath in anticipation but the look quickly falls away and is replaced with an eerily calm one. With slow deliberate steps, Peeta leaves the doorway and makes his way over to stand next to me.
Foregoing any social pleasantries, Peeta gets right to the point. "What are you doing here?" he demands.
The irritation I saw on Gale's face moments ago is now gone, replaced with careful neutrality. "Peeta" he greets with a nod of his head.
Peeta doesn't return the gesture, instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Gale expectantly.
Looking from myself to Peeta and back again, Gale's shoulders fall a bit and he sighs. "I'm here because you don't read your mail," he says plainly. "The Capitol has sent a number of certified letters to both of you and Haymitch over the past few months... you did receive them, right?"
Peeta and I glance at each other, and I swear I see one corner of his mouth lift in a smirk and I have to bite back a smile threatening spill onto my lips. We did get Capitol letters, at least a dozen of them between the three of us. We got them and then really enjoyed burning them, unopened, one by one.
"We get a lot a mail, we rarely look at any of it," I lie.
Gale raises an eyebrow at my fib, he, of course, knows me well enough to know when I'm lying, but he chooses not to call me out on it, instead he just sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Yeah, kind of figured it was something like that," he says under his breath. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Gale fidgets uncomfortably for a second before turning to Peeta, "Look, Peeta, I...I was really hoping I could talk to Katniss alone about...about why I'm here, do you think you could..um.. give us some space?" he stammers.
Peeta's head tilts a bit to the side as if considering the request, but after a moment he responds by simply sliding a few inches closer to me.
Gale's face flushes in irritation at Peeta casual denial and he looks to me, silently asking me to step in and tell Peeta to leave, but there is no way that's going to happen. Pulling myself up to my full height, I give my head a small shake in response to his unspoken request. "You said the Capitol's been sending letters Peeta and me, if that's the case then there's no reason Peeta shouldn't be here to hear what you have to say," I say evenly.
Sighing loudly he throws up his hands, "Fine!" he exclaims, "but the letters went to all the victors of District Twelve so should we take this party over to Haymitch's?" he asks, his subtle sarcasm not wasted on me.
Peeta, unfazed by the flippant reply, easily redirects the conversation. "I just came from Haymitch's, his out cold and won't be up for hours, but no worries Gale, Katniss and I can fill him in if the situation warrants it," he says smoothly. I glance over at him and smile inwardly. Peeta has many gifts of course, but his ability to adapt to nearly any conversation and his way with words has always impressed me.
Gale scoffs. "Still a sloppy drunk hu? I thought his time in thirteen dried him out."
Peeta's calm demeanor falters a bit and he bristles and I spot another of his gifts coming through: loyalty. Haymitch may be a drunk but he's our drunk and Peeta will not allow others to pass judgment against him. "He's surviving the best way he knows how," Peeta says his voice low in warning.
"I don't see you and Katniss drinking yourselves to unconsciousness," Gale fires back.
This time, it's me who jumps to Haymitch's defense. "Gale, don't" I warn,"You have no idea what you're talking about."
Outnumbered by two annoyed victors, Gale backs off. Putting his hands up in surrender he manages to look somewhat contrite. "Alright, look... I'm sorry. Believe me, when I say I didn't come all the way here to fight with the two of you," he says.
"Why don't you just get to the point of your visit then," Peeta suggests.
Gale simply nods, and I can see that he is collecting his thoughts. After a good ten seconds, he finally starts. "I've been sent by President Paylor to request your attendance a first annual District Gathering in June," he says, the words clearly rehearsed.
"District Gathering? What is that?" Peeta asks.
Gale seems to waiver at this question and suddenly I feel uneasiness coming off of him in waves. Peeta must feel it too because he takes another half-step closer to me. "It's what it sounds like, a gathering of the Districts, of their leaders...and the remaining victors. President Paylor wants to officially form a council from the district leaders and victors to discuss the issues facing the districts individually and the country as a whole. She believes that each district should have a say in how issues are resolved." he states passionately.
"And?" Peeta asks, clearly expecting the catch to this whole scenario.
"And they want the Mockingjay there," Gales says resolutely.
I feel my eyes widen and my heart begins to pound hard in my chest, but before I can react Peeta is standing directly in front of me, his body tense. "What? NO!" he growls between his teeth. I can't see his face, but I can see by the look in Gale's that he thinks Peeta is about to have an episode, but that isn't what's happening; Peeta is just in protection mode. My mind is spinning, and the questions are lining up in my head making me lightheaded. Be the Mockingjay again? No, I couldn't. I promised myself once that I would kill myself before I would let them make me that again... but... I was a year ago...I was definitely in a different emotional place then and...and it isn't just anyone asking me for this, it's President Paylor. My mind immediately flashes back to the day I stumbled upon Snow's prison cell. I can still hear her words, "She has a right to everything behind that door". She trusted me not only with Snow, and the truth he could give me about Prim's death but in all honesty with the fate of our countries future, after all, it was the conversation that made me assassinate Coin, made me see that she would only ever be just another Snow. Paylor had trusted me, not just as the Mockingjay, but as me, Katniss Everdeen. That alone makes me hesitate. My conflicting thoughts tumble together and I feel like I might faint, but when I see Peeta's hands go into fists, I snap immediately into the present and instinctively I reach over and place my hand on his forearm. For a split second I tense at the contact but when I feel no shift in his mood at my touch, I let my hand drift down until it encircles his wrist. "It's okay," I manage to say to in a low voice. He turns head and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm okay," I promise, giving his wrist a reassuring squeeze before dropping my hand to my side. He holds my gaze for a long moment, his eyes searching mine and when he's satisfied I see the muscles in his neck relax and his fists loosen. I let out a little sigh of relief.
"After everything that happened with Coin why would they even want her there, let alone as the Mockingjay?" Peeta demands.
"She may not be popular with some folks in thirteen, but most of the people in the districts don't feel the same way about what she did," Gale states. "I guess Coin wasn't completely wrong to worry about the power she has as the Mockingjay," he says evenly.
I can see Peeta body tensing up again. "Coin knew the power Katniss had before she saved her from the arena and never intended on keeping her alive once the war was won. Power corrupts. Coin, Snow, it doesn't matter, they both used her to serve their own interests. So tell me Gale, how are President Paylor's plans any different?"
Gale's eyes narrow and flash in anger and I know Peeta has struck a nerve. In a show of unity, and to hopefully keep this confrontation from coming to blows, I step out from behind Peeta and move to stand at his side.
"I'm not blind to who President Coin was... though in all honesty, I couldn't see it at the time," Gale says honestly, "but in spite of her, the victory is won. Now as citizens of the new Panem have the responsibility to help bring this new government up from its infancy, to make it into the Panem we fought for!" He says his voice rising, but not in the anger of moments before, but instead in the passion, I saw so many times during the uprising.
Turning his eyes square on me, he continues his appeal. "Katniss, I know the idea of being the Mockingjay again is probably the last thing you want to do..."
Peeta interrupts with a loud groan and roll of his eyes. I catch his gaze and hold it for a second, "Peeta, let him say what he came so far to say," I appeal softly. He still looks worried, but he nods his head at me in agreement.
Gail continues, "The truth is things between the Capitol and the districts aren't falling into place as smoothly as everyone had hoped they would," he confesses. "There are a number of issues that are fueling the unrest and this District Gathering is the President's hope to bring everyone to the table to not only discuss them but to get solutions, she calls it "cooperative government". She does, however, worry about how receptive people will be to this new concept. After so many years under Snow's thumb, she's concerned that it may be difficult for some to trust the process." he explains. "Katniss, from the beginning the symbol of the Mockingjay has given people the courage to stand up and fight for their rights, their freedoms. President Paylor believes that you are capable of being that example again and help encourage these new leaders to work together towards the future of our new Panem. The Mockingjay and the victors," he says, pausing to make eye contact with Peeta, before continuing, "are after all perfect symbols of what we fought so hard for, the sacrifices that were made in war. I would think the two of you would be able to relate to that, with all the sacrifice you have had to make." he finishes quietly.
I feel Peeta tense next to me. "Don't," he warns. "Don't pretend to know about the sacrifices we've had to live with."
The tension in the room is almost tangible. "Gale," I say, stopping the words I see forming on his mouth, "this is asking a lot, and not just of me. Going to the Capitol for any reason is...complicated for us. We are going to need to bring this to Haymitch, so we can..." Gale interrupts me before I've finished with my thoughts, "Katniss, it's nice of you to want to consider everyone's feelings, but who are we kidding, this decision is yours to make. You're the Mockingjay! If you say yes you know they will back you!"
My anger flashes instantly. "What? You really think I would do that? And after you just gave me a speech about how the Mockingjay AND the victors are needed...was that a lie?" I demand.
"Of course not! I'm just saying that...that..." he stutters groping for words, "Oh come on Katniss, Haymitch is a drunk! I can see how Peeta's opinion should be weighed, but Haymitch?" he finally spits out. "Honestly, Katniss, while Haymitch's presence would be appreciated, I certainly don't think it's necessary since he'll probably be falling down drunk the whole time!"
My mouth falls open in surprise and anger bubbles up in my chest. Closing the distance between us, I come to stand close enough to Gale that I have to tilt my head up to meet his eyes. "Haymitch has spent 25 years in hell as a mentor Gale! He drinks to forget but guess what, it's never enough, it never can be enough because that kind of horror becomes a part of who you are. He'll never get away from it or find a bottle deep enough to completely erase the memory of watching all those kids die and not being able to stop it. So, I ask you, if he finds even the slightest amount of relief from being wasted who are we to deny him that?" I demand. Gale looks like he wants to speak but he thinks better of it, so I continue my voice rising as I do. "I will also remind you that this peace our new government is working so hard to hold together, Haymitch helped make possible. If it weren't for him and the other rebels who helped laid the foundation of the revolution right under the Capitol's noses, there wouldn't have been war. No freedom. No 'district gatherings.'" I spit out on the brink of fury. Taking a shaky breath I work hard to calm myself before continuing, "Let me be very clear about this," I say, "IF I agree to do this, it will only be because ALL of us have agreed to it." My hands are shaking from the rush of adrenal my anger triggered, but having said my peace, I can feel myself coming down from the high and as my body begins to relax I feel an ache at the base of my neck from looking up at Gale so I take a few steps back to rejoin Peeta.
Gale's missteps regarding Haymitch have has clearly thrown his plans to woo us to the conference and he now seems at a loss. He takes a calming breath before continuing, "Damn, I suck at this," he mumbles, "I told them I would. Even asked for them to send someone else, but as you know when you are in the military you don't get to pick and choose which orders you will follow...especially when they come directly from the President," he says with a sigh. "But, in spite of my inadequacies, I still have a job to do. It's simple really, I need a response to forward back to the Capitol. A simple yes or no, I can't leave without," he states matter of factly.
The room becomes awkwardly silent, as the words and thoughts of the morning lay bare before us. It's Peeta who brakes the stalemate. "We are going to need time to discuss this," he says curtly.
Gale nods in reluctant agreement. "My train doesn't leave until 10 tonight, I just need a response by then. I will be in town having meetings and doing inspections this afternoon, you can get a hold of me at the Justice Building once you have made your decision," he says.
"Well, I guess we should rouse Haymitch then," Peeta says, clearly indicating that the conversation has come to an end and Gale should take his leave.
Gale takes the hint and turns for the door but pauses when his hand lands on the knob. "Thank you for giving this request serious consideration and for not dismissing it offhand," he says softly. Then without another word, he pulls open the door and disappears out into the morning beyond.