Title: The Flames Rose Higher
Warnings: See first chapter for warnings.
Notes: Thanks to anyone with the patience to still be reading this and I'm sorry it took me so long to update. Also, thanks to the people who favourited this story or put it on alert, and special thanks to Bloodredfirefly, letthesongtakeflight and water for reviewing last chapter!
Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games trilogy. I am not Suzanne Collins.
The Flames Rose Higher
Chapter Ten – Katniss
"Evelena."
"Too long. Gretel."
"From that old fairy-tale?" Katniss pulled a face. "With the breadcrumbs and the house made of sweets and the cannibal witch? I don't think so."
Peeta rolled his eyes at his wife's instant dismissal. "Okay, forget about girl names for now. If it's a boy, Gibbin."
"Gibbin," she said flatly. "You want to name our son Gibbin."
For a moment they stared each other down, until Peeta's remarkably sincere expression cracked and he burst into laughter.
"No. Just wanted to see your face," he gasped out, prompting Katniss to lightly smack the arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"Carson," a quiet voice suggested.
Katniss turned to look at its owner. She'd almost forgotten that they were having this conversation in an attempt to fool Snow into thinking they really were having a baby, and that they'd roped Madge and Gale into unknowingly helping them.
"Oh, that's a nice one."
"Well, too bad, it's taken," Gale said gruffly. He was sitting beside his girlfriend on the couch opposite them, hand hovering protectively over her baby bump, his posture ramrod straight. He and Katniss had yet to talk about mending their friendship, and he still wasn't fully comfortable in Peeta's house, but at least he was there.
My house too, she reminded herself. Two days after Davenport's Gala, the star-crossed lovers had received written (and coded) instructions from Plutarch to announce during their interview with Cressida that Katniss was pregnant. They'd had a little over five weeks before the talent segments were to begin, and knowing a simple declaration to the entirety of Panem wouldn't convince President Snow, they'd started preparing right away.
'Preparing' involved staging a tearful reconciliation that very night where the President would be sure to hear them and Katniss immediately moving into Peeta's house for real. It also involved husband and wife having sex for the first time since their wedding night, but there'd been no way to avoid that. They couldn't be completely celibate and then expect everyone to believe they were having a baby.
Thinking about it made her sick. Because they both knew someone in the Capitol had been listening to their every sigh. Because neither of them had wanted it. Because looking back on that night confirmed what Cinna had told her: Peeta had been violated just as she had. Remembering his reaction to every kiss, every touch, left no doubt in her mind.
Peeta's memories of what his (except they weren't his, they were yours, it was your fault, he went in your place,a voice in her head whispered to her) patrons had done to him were fresh and raw in a way Katniss's weren't. It wasn't that she'd gotten used to any of it, but she'd stopped feeling quite like she would rather have her skin flayed off than let anyone touch her like that ever again nearly a year ago.
The aftermath of that night was a blur of more soul-destroying (in the worst way possible) sex and a multitude of staged conversations, each seeming to Katniss more ridiculous than the last.
("Uh, Peeta, have you been taking the pills lately?"
"The pills?"
"You know. The pills."
"Oh! Those pills. No, I haven't. Doesn't matter, right, because you've been taking them— You have been taking them?"
"I took one that lasts thirty days—"
"—oh, good—"
"—eight weeks ago."
"…"
"…"
"Well.")
("Are you sure you're okay?"
"Peeta, for the last time, I am fine."
"It's just, this is the fourth morning in a row you've thrown up."
"…"
"…"
"Well, you must've poisoned me."
"Excuse me? Poisonedyou."
"Yes."
"Poisoned you."
"Yes, Peeta. Those cheese buns you brought home on Monday looked rancid."
"Ah, no. No, I really don't think so."
"You must've."
"…Did you hear about that weird bug going around?"
"…All right, fine, I'll take it. Go get me more ice cream.")
("What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you're emptying out your storage room."
"Storage? No, this is all junk, I've been meaning to clear it out for ages."
"…I see. And what are you planning to do with this room once you've taken everything out?"
"Turn it into a guest room."
"A guest room. Last time I suggested that, you said under no circumstances were we to have a guest room on our floor, let alone right next to our bedroom, in case someone like Effie was to stay over."
"I changed my mind."
"Would you like some help? I could start on that side of the room— Katniss."
"What?"
"Katniss. How long has that been there?"
"How long has what been there?"
"The bird cage you bought for Prim that she gave back after Buttercup ate the imaginatively-named Chirp. The chainsaw, Katniss, how long has the chainsaw been there."
"Oh! I don't know, always?"
"You keep a chainsaw in your storage room?"
"Yes."
"In the storage room right next to our bedroom."
"Yes?"
"…"
"…"
"…"
"So, after everything's cleared out, I was thinking you could paint the walls like a treehouse theme— Where are you going? Peeta. Peeta, don't be stupid, if I wanted to kill you with a chainsaw I would've done it a long time ago— Fine! Keep running, see if I care! …I want more ice cream! …And maybe a few dozen pickles!")
How they kept up the relatively cheerful (and slightly insane) act, Katniss would never know. She had worried they were being too obvious, but Haymitch, who was receiving regular reports from Plutarch, had told her that Snow and his eavesdroppers were eating up every word. She hadn't fully believed him because he hadn't been particularly honest with her lately (she doubted she'd ever forgive him for what Peeta had been through and for not telling her, though she supposed that really depended on whether or not she could ever forgive herself), but now that Phase 1 of Plutarch's rescue operation had been successfully completed, seemingly without arousing even the vaguest suspicion, she was beginning to relax.
Panem's focus right now was split between Katniss and Peeta's supposed unborn child and Maple's upcoming Victory Tour, which meant any day now Phase 2 would be launched. Katniss was so anxious to finally have her loved ones safe (or as safe as anyone could be in a world like the one she lived in) that she sometimes felt like she was counting the hours until that day arrived.
She sighed heavily and was then pulled out of her reverie by the abrupt halt of the heated debate between her three companions.
Madge reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I know how overwhelming it can all be sometimes," she said, "especially the part where you have a tiny life growing inside you. But at least we're going through it together."
After their guests had left, Katniss found herself in the washroom bent over the toilet with Peeta holding her hair out of her face and rubbing her back soothingly as she brought up everything she'd eaten so far today. Her entire life was built on lies, had been ever since her sister's name had been drawn out of that glass bowl; lying to Madge for the greater good shouldn't have left her feeling as guilty as she did.
Shouldn't have didn't make it any better, but the next time she saw her friend she put on a phony smile anyway.
Sitting on the couch feigning interest in whatever was playing on the television screen in front of her (she honestly couldn't have said what she was watching if her life depended on it, she was so out of it) as she waited to hear about the untimely deaths of Maple and the girl's entire family was just about the most nerve-wracking thing she'd ever done, second only to standing in that glass tube waiting to be lifted up into the arena.
She tried not to seem too tense, but judging by the way Peeta was stroking the back of her hand with his thumb (half comfort, half warning), she was failing miserably.
Her mother, sister and the Hawthornes plus Madge had left for the woods nearly eight hours ago in the dead of night. Katniss had no way of knowing if they'd made it to the lake (my lake, my father's lake) where the hovercraft was supposed to pick them up; she had no way of knowing if they'd even made it to the fence. She had no idea if Cinna had made it to his designated rendezvous point in the Capitol, or if he even intended to keep his promise and go to District 13 with the others at all.
So many things could go wrong with the plan. Her family could already be dead. Haymitch could be lying in a pool of his own blood next door, courtesy of Peacekeepers that were even now headed for Katniss and Peeta. President Snow could be preparing to wage all-out war on the districts, or to wipe out one altogether.
Peeta's lips brushed the shell of her ear and, with what seemed like a monumental effort, she forced her muscles to loosen and leaned even further into him. She felt him shift slightly and then mouth something against her cheek; she wasn't exactly sure what, but it was probably something along the lines of, It will be okay, they will be okay, everything will be okay.
It helped as much as anything could've on a day like today. Peeta released her hand and moved his own to rest over her belly, keeping up the charade even now. Katniss tried not to think of the betrayal that had been written all over Madge's face when she finally learned her friend wasn't really pregnant; they'd had to confess, because Madge and Gale had kept trying to convince them that Katniss needed to come to District 13 where she and the fictional baby growing inside her would be safe.
There went her efforts at relaxing. But it didn't matter because at the exact moment, the ridiculous soap-opera she was pretending to watch was interrupted by Caesar Flickerman who, to quote the man himself, was bringing them what was undoubtedly "the most devastating, tragic, live breaking news" they'd ever heard.
Katniss gripped the gun in her coat pocket tightly with her right hand as she hurried down the street. It wasn't safe to be out in the open and besides, if she wasn't back in exactly two minutes, she would miss precious seconds of her window of opportunity.
One day of every week for exactly ten minutes, any and all surveillance in one of the rooms in Peeta and Katniss's house abruptly shut off. Well, Katniss wasn't entirely sure if it actually shut off or if Beetee just played a loop over and over or something; all she knew was that she got to talk to her loved ones in District 13 once a week, and that she had to listen carefully for the beep that meant Snow's people had noticed the breach and were about to override it.
It had only happened to Katniss once. Peeta had been at Haymitch's at the time because he'd been worried about the screaming they'd heard from inside—it was hard to get food nowadays, let alone liquor, and sobriety was pure hell for Haymitch. Katniss had been in the middle of reassuring Prim of Buttercup's continued health (13 had been willing to accept the goat, but not the cat; a sign of good taste, Katniss figured, though she was less than thrilled that she now had to take care of the little devil herself) when the beep sounded. She'd had no choice but to hang up immediately—without getting the time and place of the next phone call, which changed from week to week to avoid being predictable.
She and Peeta were always given the time and place of the next call before the current one ended so they would know to be in the right room with their cell phones at the designated time. Because she'd been forced to hang up early, she and Peeta had spent the following week with at least one of them in the house at all times, waiting for Beetee to cut off the surveillance in whatever room they were in at the time so someone could safely call. Katniss had been out when the call finally came, so she'd had to wait another week to hear her sister's voice again.
Having finally reached her and Peeta's house, Katniss unlocked the front door and slipped inside. She wanted to go straight to the storage room-turned-nursery, where Peeta was undoubtedly already talking to his father, but it would look suspicious if that was the first thing she did upon returning home. So instead she put the soup Greasy Sae had given her in the fridge, shrugged off her bulky coat (she hated the thing, but it hid the fact that she wasn't really pregnant and she didn't have to bother with the fake baby bump as long as she was wearing the coat) and hung it on the coat rack, and then picked up a stuffed toy she spotted lying on the couch—she had a feeling Peeta had left it there, for which she was grateful; it gave her an excuse to head to the nursery.
"Peeta, I thought I told you not to leave this stuff lying around!" she called out. Hearing no answer, she feigned an exasperated sigh and marched upstairs to the room she and her husband had designed for a baby that wasn't real. Peeta was, as she'd guessed, already there. He smiled at her briefly before turning his attention back to whoever he was conversing with; it sounded like they were arguing, and Katniss made a mental note to ask him about it later.
As soon as Katniss closed the nursery door behind her, her cell rang. As she flipped it open and pressed the talk button, she wondered who would be on the other end this time. Who she got to talk to each week depended on who was busy at the time and who wasn't. Prim was in-training to become a healer but she was usually available. Katniss's mother and Cinna were a different story, as they both had demanding jobs. She heard from the Hawthornes (mostly Hazelle, Vick and Posy; Rory was busy playing soldier and Gale was busy actually being one) and Madge every so often. She'd even talked to Mags and Annie once; they both sounded okay except for missing Finnick.
"Katniss?"
Instantly, a smile stole over her face. "Hey, Prim. How are you?"
"I'm great, I'm learning so much! What have you been up to today?"
Katniss thought about lying, about giving in to the instinct to shield her little sister from the horrors of the world—an instinct that would, perhaps, never truly fade no matter how old they both were. But truthfully, when it came to injuries and sickness and death Prim had seen far more than Katniss had and was far more composed in the face of it all.
"I went to Greasy Sae's. There was another bombing in the square and her granddaughter was caught in it. I was worried for a while we would have to amputate, but I think I got there in time." She then listed off all the steps she'd taken to ensure the little girl wouldn't lose her leg like Peeta had, trying not to picture the bloodied, mangled limb she'd worked on for three hours.
When she was done, Prim said, "It sounds like you did everything right. I'm sure she'll be fine."
"It's all thanks to you and Mother for passing on your expertise to me," Katniss said lightly, at last managing to banish the memory that was entirely too red.
"Speaking of Mother, she had to work today but she said to tell you she hopes you're doing well and she'll try to make sure she's free next time."
"Tell her it's fine. It's all fine." Katniss hesitated for a moment, then decided to give a little. "And tell her I miss her."
"I will," Prim said, and just from her tone Katniss knew her sister was smiling.
Somewhere between embarrassed and proud of herself, Katniss quickly changed to subject. "So, Mother's not there, but what about Cinna?"
"He's talking to Peeta right now," Prim said.
Startled, Katniss whipped around to stare at Peeta, who met her gaze with a sheepish expression. He was arguing with Cinna? About what?
"You know what, how about we continue this discussion later?" he said into the phone. She couldn't hear what Cinna said in response, but it made Peeta grin. "Something like that. Yeah. Yeah, sure. You too. Thanks. Bye." A couple seconds later: "Hey, Rye, how's the wife?"
"Okay, never mind, he's done." Prim drew her attention away from Peeta. "Do you want me to pass the phone to him now? I think I'm needed in the hospital anyway."
On the one hand, the odds of Katniss actually getting Cinna to tell her what he and Peeta had been arguing about were somewhere around a million to one and definitely not in her favor. On the other, she hadn't heard his voice in seventeen days. (Not that she was purposely keeping track, or anything, it was just…really simple math, that was all.)
"Yeah, Prim, thanks. We'll talk more next week," Katniss promised.
"Next week," Prim agreed. "I love you."
"I love you too."
There was silence for a few moments as Prim presumably passed the phone on to Cinna.
"Katniss."
At the sound of his voice in her ear, Katniss was reminded of late nights spent curled up in bed with a cordless phone clutched in her hand as they talked about everything and nothing, but she was also reminded of him telling her that Peeta had suffered in her place.
"Hey. How goes everything with Maple?" she asked lightly.
"Good. They've filmed a few more clips with her in costume, you've probably seen them." He paused for a bit and then asked carefully, "What's wrong?"
How did he always know? "Nothing. Everything's fine. How've you been?"
"Busy," he said, and he sounded wary now. Good.
"Busy with the rebellion, or busy conspiring with Peeta?" she asked sternly, mostly to distract him from trying to figure out what was really bothering her.
"You'll have better luck trying to intimidate your husband into confessing, I'm afraid," he said, and she could picture his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "I intend to take this secret to my grave."
"I can arrange that."
"I'm sure you could."
Katniss rolled her eyes and said, "If you're going to be difficult, give the phone to someone else. Madge, if she's there."
"She is. Do you really want me to give it to her?"
"Yes." She tried to ignore the part of her that was screaming, No!
That day in her old house more than four months ago, she'd been prepared to do it, to actually ask him if the kiss had meant anything to him, and then he'd dropped that bombshell… She'd taken that as fate's way of saying she shouldn't pursue anything more with him. (And how, how could she possibly even think of finding any sort of happiness for herself after what Peeta had been through because of her?)
The more she talked to Cinna the more her resolve weakened. Except it worked the other way around as well. The more she didn't talk to him the more she missed him. The more she wanted him.
Unable to stop herself, she added, "I just want to hear how she's doing. I'll have her pass the phone back to you when she's done."
"I'll count the seconds 'til then," he teased.
"You're ridiculous. Go away."
Laughing, he did as she said, and seconds later Madge greeted her cheerfully. The first time she'd spoken to her friend on the phone had been awkward. There'd been clipped tones and drawn out silences and then suddenly, without Katniss ever apologizing or offering any explanation, Madge had forgiven her and told her it was okay. Now they talked fairly regularly, usually about Madge's pregnancy and her fights with Gale which had started shortly after they'd arrived in District 13 and which were becoming more and more frequent. ("He's always so restless, you know, like he's dying to get out of here and throw himself head-first into the fighting," Madge had told her a couple weeks ago, with a weary sigh. "And every time he goes on missions I'm terrified he'll never come back, but when he stays we just argue and argue and sometimes I worry he feels like we're tying him down, the baby and me.")
This time Madge just updated her on the continued well-being of herself ("I'm fine, I just can't see my feet when I look down anymore and no one lets me do anything!"), the baby ("We just found out it's definitely a boy.") and the Hawthornes ("Rory keeps trying to convince me to give the baby a second name, but I don't know. Carson Rory Hawthorne? It's a mouthful, right?") before handing the phone back to Cinna.
"How much time do we have left?" Katniss asked him. Not much, she knew, but she couldn't think of anything else to say to him. Or maybe the problem was that she could think of everything to say to him, so many words on the tip of her tongue and it was just too difficult right now to sift through them all and discard the ones that weren't important enough to be spoken and the ones that shouldn't be spoken at all.
"Couple minutes, at most. I guess I should give you next week's time now just in case—"
He fell silent so abruptly that Katniss almost panicked. District 13 was the safest place in Panem right now, but nowhere was completely safe. However, the rational part of her brain told her that Cinna was probably currently engaged in conversation with someone else, and she was quickly proven right when he told her, "Never mind. I have to go, Fulvia Cardew wants to talk to you. I'll see you soon. Please be careful."
"With what?" she asked, but there was no response from him. "What do you mean you'll see me soon?"
And why would Fulvia Cardew want to talk to her? She and Peeta often gave reports to one of Coin's representatives on what was happening in District 12, but based on what Gale had told her it sounded like Fulvia Cardew was so high up she had basically replaced Plutarch. The chances of her being the representative tasked with gathering info on 12 this week were slim to none.
"He means," said Fulvia Cardew, "that you're coming to District Thirteen. There'll be a hovercraft waiting for you by the lake at exactly nineteen minutes past 4 A.M. Don't be late, and don't let anyone see you."
"I don't like this," Peeta had muttered. "Why do they want you in 13 all of a sudden?"
"I don't know, but I'm going," Katniss had immediately replied.
They'd had barely half a minute left before the surveillance came back on, so Peeta hadn't been able to protest. He'd shot her unhappy looks every so often for the remainder of the night, but all the same when it came time for her to sneak out she'd found the front door already unlocked.
Now here she was by the lake that she still thought of as hers and her father's, having safely snuck past the Peacekeepers on the night watch, slipped beneath the fence that for once wasn't electrified—Beetee's work, no doubt—and made her way through the woods that she'd been missing for nearly two years now.
What if this was a trap? She didn't know much about Fulvia Cardew other than that she was Plutarch's assistant (which, frankly, didn't make her that much more inclined to trust the woman). Cinna had seemed on board with the plan, though, so she'd decided to take the risk.
Her gamble ended up paying off, and soon enough she was in a hovercraft headed to 13. To be more exact, she was in a hovercraft sitting across from Finnick Odair and a soldier with close-cropped gray hair, blue eyes and ridiculously perfect posture.
"Boggs," he'd introduced himself. President Coin's right-hand man, was what Gale had described him as on one of the rare occasions she'd gotten to talk to him on the phone.
If she had to pick one word to describe him, it would be silent. If she got to pick two, it would be unnervingly silent. So silent they were venturing into awkward territory, complete with Katniss's feeble attempts at small-talk and Finnick's lame ice-breaker jokes. But then, Boggs wasn't here to make conversation, and neither were she and Finnick.
What they were actually there for, they had not yet been informed. Finnick's presence had been demanded (he told her) and he wasn't about to pass up the chance to see Annie and Mags (he didn't tell her, but that part was a no-brainer), so here he was. And here she was, because she wasn't about to pass up the chance to see her family and friends, either, since she'd spent approximately three months wondering if she'd ever see them again.
Not that she would be allowed anywhere near Prim and the others until she'd done whatever it was she'd been brought to 13 for. As relieved as she was to have the majority of her loved ones away from all the rioting and the violence taking place in most of the districts, the fear that they would be used to ensure her cooperation was still lurking in the back of her mind like a persistent rash. Katniss was under no illusions that just because President Coin was the leader of the 'good' side she would be above using the same ruthless tactics as the 'evil' side to get what she wanted.
There was a lot Katniss would do to help the rebellion and bring Snow and his corrupt government down, but she had her limits. Lengths she wouldn't go to. Lines she wouldn't cross.
How far would Coin go? Where did she draw the line?
As an automated voice from overhead speakers announced that they would be landing in less than five minutes, all Katniss could think was I hope I never find out.
Author's Note: I think I've probably said at least three times that there's only a one or two chapters left, but this time I can say with certainty there's only two chapters left, plus an epilogue.
Also, good news—I have the next chapter completely written out (it's a long one, around 6000 words), and chapter 12 is in the works. I waited until I was ahead to post this chapter, because I didn't want to post something and then take like another six months or whatever to update.
I'll post the next chapter either on March 23 or when I finish chapter 12, whichever comes first.
Next time: Finnick and Katniss admit some stuff to all of Panem, Cinna and Katniss finally admit some stuff to each other, and three people die (none of them are major characters).