Chapter 11: Gladiators Fed to Dogs

The day of the Reaping dawns sticky and humid. Haymitch Abernathy and Peeta Mellark are Reaped to represent District 12 in the 75th Annual Hunger Games without much fanfare. With the distinct possibility of never seeing my true love again, I pretty much force my way onto the train behind Effie Trinket. Peeta acquiesces because he must really need the support right now, and I promise to give him everything that he needs, and more.

A few days later, we arrive in the Capitol. The sight of citizens with tattoos, body piercings and oddly colored skin throws me at first as Peeta guides me through the crowds with a steady hand. Camera bulbs flash in my face as the paparazzi take my picture, curious as to who Peeta Mellark the Leopard Killer's lady friend might be. The attention physically unnerves me, and I jolt.

"Just keep staring straight ahead," Peeta advises me. "The people here can be a little eccentric. Try not to read too much into it."

It certainly is an eccentric culture - too diametrically opposed to the frugal one I'm used to. Or was used to, until Peeta swept me off my feet and carried me away in style, rescued me from poverty.

At the Tribute Parade, Peeta introduces me to some of his fellow Victors. Some he met soon after being inducted into their ranks. Others he made acquaintance of while on his Victory Tour. All the reaped Victors make a splash during the Parade, especially Peeta and Haymitch. As soon as President Snow has given his address, we are all whisked into the Tribute Training Center.

Training begins first thing the next morning, continuing over the next three days. While Peeta and Haymitch prepare for the arena, I spend time in the District 12 entourage quarters with Effie. Our escort may be a little snooty over matters of decor and taste, but she is friendly enough once I get to know her. Having someone to pass the time with makes the next three days fly by.

On the final evening, I gather with the Victors, Effie and the stylists as Caesar announces the Gamemaker Training scores. When he gets to District 12, Peeta and Haymitch makes Hunger Games history, each pulling a perfect score. The old drunk seems to think this was done to put deliberate targets on their backs, and I begin to fear that both of Twelve's heroes may die in that arena. I hold Peeta a little tighter in bed afterwards.

The next night features the interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Victor after Victor after Victor is interviewed, each of them challenging the betrayal to the arena for a second time in their own clever way. By the time Haymitch is called, the audience is an absolute wreck.

"So: Haymitch," a clearly stressed Caesar begins. "You are the last person to have won a Quarter Quell. And you went into an arena with 47 other tributes, same as this time. Do you think you have what it takes to defend your title?"

Haymitch just smirks. "I'll stand by what I said in our last interview 25 years ago, Caesar. I figure my odds will be roughly the same."

This gets a desperately needed laugh out of the audience, but the joyfulness does not last long. Haymitch puts his own spin on the Quell by wishing that he could have saved more children from death over the years. By the time his interview expires, the audience is on edge once more.

The sight of my lover, bedecked in his iconic leopard skin, practically causes a riot, as everyone realizes they will lose their newest Victor.

"Peeta: it must be a surprise, being back here again. I'm sure your sweetheart is devastated for you," Caesar guesses somberly.

"Yes, Caesar," Peeta sighs heavily. "Katniss Everdeen is very worried for me right now."

There is a gasp throughout the audience as Peeta finally reveals the identity of his mysterious sweetheart.

"Katniss Everdeen? Not the sister of Primrose Everdeen, your district partner?" Caesar practically squeaks, and from the look in his eyes, I can he tell he now knows what my sister has come to mean for the rebels.

"Yes. I have gotten to spend a wonderful year with her, gotten to be in love for the first time. And I wouldn't have any regrets at all if... if it weren't..." his voice falters.

"For what? If it weren't for what?" Caesar prods, sticking the microphone in Peeta's face.

"If it weren't for the baby."

From where I am comfortably watching TV in the District 12 suite, my jaw drops. Baby? There's no baby! But, oh, how I wish there was! Maybe a unborn child, an innocent fetus, would stop this madness.

Evidently, the audience must think so, too, for there are now audible, distinct shouts demanding that the Quell be cancelled.

"What?!"

"Baby?!"

"Stop the Games! Stop the Games!"

Peeta silently returns to his place. As the Panem anthem cranks up to full blast, the Victors suddenly join hands in a stunning, spontaneous display of solidarity. The camera crews try to cut out the feed, but too late:

All of Panem has seen.

Peeta and I hold each other tighter than we ever have before that night. After making frantic, emotional love in bed, we press our naked bodies together and just stare out into the darkness beyond. A darkness that gradually lightens with each passing hour, signifying how quickly Peeta's life - his freedom - is slipping away.

"Oh, I wish I could go with you!" I whisper, kissing Peeta's neck.

"You will be with me," Peeta smiles, tapping the spot directly over his heart. "I would go into that damn arena again and again for you, just as long as you were there waiting when I got out."

"Hmmmmm..." I smile, snuggling closer into his embrace. There is a moment of blissful silence, and then:

"Peeta?"

"Huh?"

"If... if my pregnancy was real... I would consider it the honor of my life to have your child." And I mean it. To be the mother of Peeta Mellark's baby, to carry it to term and raise it, would be the most precious title ever conferred upon me.

Peeta kisses me passionately in gratitude.