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PART IX

S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O

Five more weeks…

Until they will find out the sex of the child growing inside her. Katniss had nothing but the wait and hope for a boy. It was clear that it if wasn't things would turn dire for her, with no other option other than being returned to the Hob. She tried not to think of the other alternative, the one the doctor murmured.

It was forbidden by the Law, but it seemed there were instances transgressions were allowed among the privileged. The Odairs were well-known and respected by the opulence of the house. Finnick even had a woman in his house, who Katniss suspected was closer to him than he knew. Even his work depended on the Odair reputation, allowing him enough influence over changes for the greater good of the Republic of Panem.

True to his word, her only company had been Mags and her constant nagging and worrying. Katniss simply had not appetite and whatever she managed to ingest, ended being expelled later. So sickness and fear were her best friends, in her confinement. From her lone window, she would gaze down at the garden, left in complete devastation, not even the birds would visit it now.

Time was her enemy. Before she wanted it to go fast, to find out if she was pregnant, now she wanted it to stop from moving forward. Once the date arrived, there was no turning back, no second chances. Katniss was under no illusion that she would be welcomed to stay. Finnick had made his views on her transparent, if he could, he would've taken her away already. Why he felt threatened by her? A woman with no powers or rights, no influences or connections. She was a means to an end. And this deadline would in turn determine her fate.

As for Peeta, he didn't search for her or come to her door. It was as if she'd been obliterated from his consciousness. All she knew was through Mags, who told her he was too busy now with the President's commission. Katniss wondered if the baby's painting had been deemed a success. Maybe Peeta had to redo it and that was why he stayed away. This very night she could hear the music coming from the attic. It had no words, only consisted of melodies. With each creaking noise from upstairs, it filled her with anticipation, perhaps he would need her opinion once more.

With nothing to entertain her, Katniss sat at the windowsill imagining snapshots of her previous life. She could hear the sounds of the forest, the creaking and swooshing of the leaves and branches. She could almost taste the rain on her tongue, and hear her sister's giggles as she tickled her. She could smell her father's masculine scent after a long day. And see her mother's ash-blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She will never see them again. She envied their quick deaths, for them the suffering was over, while hers had only just begun.

S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O

Cinna was back in his office, giving him a devious smirk. "So… tell me how's it going with the insufferable waiting? I would be sweating bullets and biting anyone's head off… wait you're already doing that! How's your Peeta? Is he finally catching up with the father feelings? Last time we talked, you said he was a bit hesitant about the whole thing and you were concerned. As for me, I can't wait to see that baby. Next time, you have to be the father. Can you imagine your son? It is understandable why Crane was so jealous of you. I mean Finn, you are the most handsome man in Panem. There's no contest. When you were matched, a lot of men wept. Heavensbee had to be taken to the hospital, his blood pressure spiked and had tachycardia… You almost gave that man a heart attack literally, Finn boy."

Finnick sneered at Cinna's jocularity, which clearly clashed with his current state of mind. "Don't mention that man's name in my presence again, or I won't be held responsible, not even by your partner, for breaking your fucking nose, Cinnie. Peeta is currently under a lot of pressure with the President's commissioned piece. He doesn't even talk with me much lately. He's cooped up in the attic at all hours of the day. He even woke me up with his instrumental music at midnight. Supposedly, it helps him create… I want him back, in our bed. I miss him… As for the baby, he's changed his views about our impending fatherhood. It's his child after all."

Cinna sat in an empty chair and frowned at Finnick, "You mean "our child"? It sounds to me there's more underneath the carpet, Finn." Finnick pushed and tossed papers from his desk, avoiding Cinna's right-on-the-spot remark. "I-I'm sure everything will fine, once we know the sex of the baby and then his arrival. Yes, I'm looking forward to holding a living piece of the love of my life. I can picture our son in my mind with Peeta's blue eyes, nose and lips. And then she'll be gone for good from our lives."

"She? Not gonna keep the breeding vessel for your baby? What's wrong, Finn?" Cinna wasn't going to give up his inquiry, and Finnick felt like idiot for falling into his trap. "You've got me. Since you're my closest friend, apart from Peeta, I will confide in you. From the beginning I asked Peeta to be the one. I wanted our first son to be sired by him. He protested wanting me to be the father, that he hadn't really pictured children in our future. I cited the Law requiring it from us. We selected, well I saw him look at her, and I knew it had to be her. She was striking, with her defiant glare in that auction room. I should've known… Peeta has been sheltered from some crude realities. I think the only woman he's been exposed to his entire life has been Mags. I didn't foresee the consequences of introducing a woman into our lives."

Cinna sighed, "I've never seen you this vulnerable before, not even… Finn I'm sure it's just a crush, nothing serious. Maybe let the boy fuck it out of his system. The novelty will wear off and he'll be laughing at the fuss you've made of the whole thing. But, I definitely understand your reasoning on returning her to the Hob after the birth. It won't do if he gets too attached. It is frowned upon and against the Law. How your father managed to keep Mags in his home boggles my mind… but do have to say she's wonderful to have around. Posh gorgeous people with your connections allows you to get away with anything."

"I mean, I think the only citizen that has women in his home, is the President. Sure, they are bound and gagged, but still they are females. If they work the fields and bear the children, might as well clean and cook inside our homes. You should totally start lobbying for that amendment with the added public punishment of castration to those who are caught with their pants down. Let's be real, a cock will fuck any available hole at its disposal. Therefore, a clause has to be included that will dispel such temptation. Try to smile, and stop furrowing your forehead you'll get wrinkles. Nasty things. If I see another line, I'll have to consider visiting Dr. Aurelius and his shop of horrors. Did you see how he cleaned up Snow's face? Yeah… I better leave you to your thoughts. Kiss Peeta for me… and pinch that delectable ass of his too."

By the time the door closed after Cinna left, Finnick was lost in his sorting through government projects and articles, organizing them according to priority. But it was futile to pretend to work, when his concentration was elsewhere going over Cinna's words. Could he allow Peeta to take Katniss without the purpose of procreation, only for the pursuing of sexual pleasure? Was it just a phase, caused by Peeta's inexperience?

His heart only wanted to protect what was his, for he feared if he lost Peeta's love, it would mean their downfall. It signified death to the transgressor… and without Peeta, Finnick would not live.

S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O

Peeta was standing in one of the many living rooms of the Presidential Palace. He'd been called to discuss the President's painting. He was perspiring profusely, even his hands were damp. He tried to wiped them off on his pants. He stopped his futile intent, as he was startled by the voice of the President's assistant.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mellark. I'm so glad you could join us today. I'm sorry to say the President is occupied with other matters at the moment, but sent me instead. Would you like a beverage or something to eat, perhaps?"

The balding man, with a slight twitch on his left eye, stared at him from top to bottom, making Peeta feel inadequate. The man wore clothes with the President's seal in a golden thread, complementing the red cotton of his shirt. Gold, red and black were the colors of the Republic. Peeta made of note of it, for his painting, to the color scheme in harmony with the Palace's decoration.

"No, thank you, mister eh?"

The man gave him another once over, "Assistant Cray, at your service. Shall we go ahead with a guided tour? Before we do, there is a confidentiality requirement. Whatever you see or hear inside the President's home is never to be spoken outside it, understood?" Peeta nodded, but Cray's glare made it him correct his blunder. "Understood," he complied.

Turning around, the man opened the double doors to the next room. It was a grand room, crowded with seating arrangements throughout. Four sets of chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, and a small fountain was the focal point in the center of the room.

"This room, as you can see is used for informal gatherings and special parties held at the Palace. It can also be cleared and used as an extra ballroom. The President's son likes to play hide and seek in here. Now, through these doors you'll be able to see the large backyard. It is where the fireworks are displayed on every anniversary commemorating of the Law's signing. To this other side you'll see the official ballroom, where the President's union ceremony was held. You may look at the current artwork displayed. The President only wants the best. These pieces are antiques, as you can see remnants of a long forgotten past. Your work will not likely be displayed here, though. Let's continue to the kitchens-"

A boy with medium brown hair pushed through the door that lead to the outside. He was breathless and flushed, looking like he was running from something or someone. "Alistair! What are you doing? You should be with your tutor, not running around like a rabid dog! You know your father won't tolerate disobedience. I won't cover for you any longer, young Snow."

The boy grinned at Cray, as he did not care or heed the warning. Then he noticed the presence of a stranger. "Hey mister, do you like to play hide and seek? Can you run really fast? Mr. Abernathy must be still asleep under the tree. He likes to take sips from a flask, when he thinks no one is looking. But his breath smells really bad. So, do you want to play, mister?" Once again, he showed his teeth smiling big at Peeta. Peeta smiled back, but before he could respond, Cray exploded. "You mind your manners. This is Peeta Mellark, one of the Capitol's most revered artists. He is here to paint a portrait for your father. Would you excuse me, Mr. Mellark? I'll be back soon. I just need to get this troublemaker back to his tutor."

Grabbing the boy's earlobe, Cray pushed him outside, leaving Peeta alone to peruse over the old paintings in solitude. What he found astonished him. The scenes depicted were completely forbidden by the Law. Many were of naked women in different explicit sexual poses. Others depicted women and men kissing, while others showed men and women in various states of sexual euphoria. Some were extremely damaged by the passage of time, yellowed out and full of scratches and holes. But there was one painting in particular that caused Peeta to stiffen in place. This piece was of a woman being held back by two men, while another pushed inside her. Her face showed her distress and pain, tears pouring down her swollen face. The more he stared, the face changed into Katniss, and the man's face was his own. He remembered his own drawing, seeing himself as a demon. He felt sick, and covered his mouth. He needed to find a washroom and fast. Walking and opening doors at random wasn't taking him closer to one and he feared he would simply had to expel the contents of his stomach right on the President's floor.

When Peeta was about to simply go outside, someone appeared. It was a woman, hunched over, dressed in a red uniform. Her breasts and her genitals were exposed. She walked until she was only a few feet from him. Her hair had been shorn and her mouth… it had been sewn shut. She was an Avox. Peeta's stomach churned violently and he ran from the room towards the Presidential's backyard. Bent over puking his guts out in the bushes, was where the President found him.

"I've never seen anyone have such a visceral reaction to that painting. I rather believe you were already harboring a stomach bug, Mr. Mellark. The men of my Republic are strong and resilient, and won't fall to pieces like the weak and immoral women you saw in my collection. Don't you worry, Cray will receive his corresponding chastisement for neglecting his duties. I will continue the tour if you don't mind. I would very much like for you to see my rose garden, and we will discuss the subject of the piece I've commissioned you."

In silence, Peeta followed obediently. His stomach ached, and his mouth tasted of vile. His hands were trembling. He was sure it was anxiety from being so close to the man with the power to sent him to his death, without misgiving. The cloying smell of roses announced they had arrived. The garden contained every variety of the flower, but Snow kept walking until only white roses surrounded them.

"Aren't they the most precious flower? Can you guess what I like about it? It looks pure and innocent, but if you aren't careful, its thorns will sting you, bleed you dry. Now, Mr. Mellark, let's discuss business. I've heard great things about you. Your reputation precedes you, and you've been recommended by my most esteemed citizens. Even Heavensbee requested a painting done by you."

"As for the subject of my piece… it is of a nature no one can know about. I demand complete discretion. It will be exhibited in a private chamber. I'm sure Cray spoke of the confidentiality clause. It will do you no good if you don't uphold this agreement and it will be detrimental to your partner, the illustrious Mr. Finnick Odair. So, Mr. Mellark, do you abide to this, swear to your President, to protect this painting from other eyes other than your own?"

Peeta tried to keep eye contact, but his stomach was ready to revolt. Snow's eyes were dark pools, staring intensely it felt like he would infiltrate his soul. When he was about to give his answer, Peeta was interrupted by two guards dragging a frail looking man. His torso was bare, covered in welts. His hands and ankles were bound. His dark hair was matted and covered in dried blood. His only piece of clothing was a pair of tattered pants.

"Kneel," Snow commanded. The man remained standing, with his head downcast. Snow grunted his displeasure and gestured with his hands. The guards pushed the man to his knees. The man whimpered in pain. "Look at me." The man didn't need the guards this time. Gray eyes… so much like Katniss' eyes, stared cold and empty. The man's mouth had been sewn shut, but it seemed it had been redone before from the healed marks and scars on his face. "This one has been a hard one to break. A deserter of the Republic, found in the wilderness, living like an animal. He's my personal project, and your subject. I want you to paint my Avox. I want something to remember him by, after his death. Now, Mr. Mellark, what say you?"

Peeta arranged his face, hoping he was successful in hiding his intensifying horror.

"Yes, Mr. President, I will abide to our agreement."

"Good. I will leave you, with my pet. Sketch away, Mr. Mellark."

The President left them in the garden, the two guards still in place, and the man kneeling at Peeta's feet. Fuck my life, Peeta mentally cursed.