I do not own The Hunger Games.

Chapter 13: Meeting Tigris

Brinna Paylor's POV

Tigris completely takes me aback, both in her cat-like appearance and behavior and in her quiet demeanor. I had assumed she would flamboyant, given that she is a stylist, but she is quiet and reserved. I am not sure how I should greet her, so I simply stand and invite her into my office and offer her refreshments when she arrives. She declines, stealthily prowling into the room. She stops and we stare at each other uncomfortably.

"Thank you for agreeing to do this for us on such short notice." By "us", I mean Peeta and Plutarch and I.

"I am happy to help." Tigris says is her growly-purr. I notice her tail is twitching, though, like she is annoyed.

"So how do we do this? Do you need to measure me?" I have no idea what exactly a stylist does, or how I can help make this process easier. She motions for me to come closer to her presumably so she can assess how I look. She motions for me to twirl around, so I do that as well. Her tail continues to twitch.

"Tell me about…." She motions to my blue suit and creamy blouse, my typical uniform since becoming president.

I think back to Peeta and Plutarch making fun of my outfit when the idea of a stylist was first broached. Why does everyone pick on my suits? "This is similar to what I wore when I taught in my district. I think it conveys a sense of practical professionalism: it's comfortable and it has pockets. I can wear these shoes all day and they are still comfortable. I can even run in them if I need to." I motion to my low heels. Tigris's tail continues to twitch, conveying a sense of disapproval. I can almost hear her say, "You aren't a teacher anymore, you're the president."

I sigh quietly. It's going to be a long afternoon.

Tigris's tail stopped twitching once while she took measurements. I had just slipped out of my blouse and skirt and turned to face her. I saw her eyes slide to my neck and then down my torso, then back up to my face. Her eyebrow arched in question.

"I was injured during the fighting in 8." Tigris waits quietly. I point at my neck and a smattering of scars across one shoulder. "I sustained these from bleach burns and had 2 cracked ribs." Still, Tigris is silent. It is not normally in me to discuss this, my part in the war, and I am sure my discomfort shows. The silence spins out as she measures most of my body. I realize she is still waiting for me to continue my story. I can almost hear Plutarch in my head, telling me that I should tell her more about myself so she can help me make the right impression. I feel so exposed standing in front of her that I don't know where to begin.

"A few of my students were passing notes in class. I intercepted the notes and made them stay after to discuss. Of course, I had heard the rumors of the rebellion but had discounted them as unhappy rumblings rather than having a basis in reality. They were pretty convinced that something was actually happening and that they wanted to join in the fighting. They were impossible to dissuade and so very self-assured." I shake my head at the memory. They didn't stand a chance. Tigris has stopped taking measurements and just sits, listening.

"I'm not sure what happened – maybe they were not circumspect enough. When they were shot for being traitors at the end of that week, I went into shock. Some of my students took it upon themselves to work their planning into "group projects" that they took to discussing in class. They were very smart about it – everything was a very hypothetical analysis of how the Capitol defeated the districts during the Dark Days. We talked supply chain, logistics and discussed what best to use as arms. We coordinated safe housing for families. The night of the attacks, we got as many to safety as we could and defended them when the Peacekeepers came. We only lost a few families." My voice cracks on the last word and I continue in a soft voice filled with anguish, "You can't possibly understand the futility of trying to protect that many children, knowing that, no matter how good a job you do, at least some of them are probably going to die."

I don't know how to explain that I sometimes still smell the blood and see the bodies of the women and children that were killed. It was like watching the Games, if the Games had no age limit, took place in our own homes and were fought with rulers, pencils, and whatever supplies we could steal from Chemistry class and the factory.

"I was a stylist for the Games. I understand preparing children to meet their almost certain deaths." Tigris meets my eyes and we share a moment of solidarity and of sadness.

The rest of the measuring session is quiet, each of us lost in her own thoughts. I am relieved when I can slide my jacket back on my shoulders after being measured and assessed. I had no idea that meeting with Tigris would be this exhausting or that I would feel like Tigris was measuring more than my physical size. I try to lighten the mood and say, "Stay for tea? Peeta makes amazing cookies."

I can see on her face that she is ready to decline when a knock on the door signals the arrival of the tea tray and startles us both. I am even more startled that Marus is the person who carries it.

Marus Aurelius's POV

I carry the tray into the room, happy to see Brinna. "I hope that you do not mind the intrusion. I just finished my session with Peeta when your assistant came in to the kitchen to prepare the tray. Since I wanted to see you anyway, I thought I would save her the trip." I put the tray down on a low table and reach out to shake hands with the person I assume is Tigris. "You must be Tigris – Peeta has told me a great deal about you. I am Dr. Marus Aurelius." We all stand awkwardly for a minute when I realize I forgot something. "I almost forgot! Peeta said that if you were staying for tea that you might prefer this to cookies." I reach into my pocket and hand Tigris a can of salmon.

I see the ghost of a smile play around Tigris's whiskers as she takes the can from me and growls, "I believe I will stay."

I pour as I quiz them both about their own session. I have to admit that I am curious as to what a stylist does. Brinna explains with infrequent growls interjected by Tigris and I end up with a fair picture of what occurred this afternoon. I can see by the exhaustion on Brinna's face that she must be leaving something out of her description. As my eyes linger on Brinna's face, taking in the circles under her eyes, the puffiness of her eyelids and the rigidity of her shoulders, I notice Tigris watching me. When I turn my head to meet her eyes fully, her whiskers twitch and her eyes crinkle in what may be an actual smile. She knows that I am interested in Brinna. The thought fills me with a strange sense of relief.

I do not have to hide how I feel. Brinna has not asked it of me, but my old habits under Alma Coin have meant that I feel the need to be strangely secretive about my growing feelings for Brinna. Tigris's look is a reminder that Brinna and I are both consenting adults and there is no need to hide that we are together. We are finally free. I find myself smiling back at her.

"Marus, how was your day?" Brinna asks as she offers me another cookie.

I come back to reality with a jolt: the news I have to share is not good. "Peeta is going back to District 12."

Brinna's face registers shock bordering on panic. "What? When? What about the exhibit?" I hold up my hand to stop her.

"He said that he will go after the exhibit. He will not run out of us before then unless absolutely required."

"Why? What's going on?"

I do not really know how to tell her my news. I gingerly place my tea cup down on the table and pinch the bridge of my nose. "Brinna, Peeta talked to Haymitch. Haymitch has asked that Peeta go to 12, now, if he wants to have closure with Katniss."

Brinna asks, "Closure?"

I confirm the statement, "Closure. Haymitch has indicated that Katniss may be dying." I watch Brinna's eyes go wide and Tigris's tail begins to twitch.

"What? That's impossible. After everything she has been through, she can't just die now." Brinna is incredulous.

I say calmly, "I have confirmed her condition. She is borderline catatonic, much like she was when she was incarcerated during her trial."

Brinna begins to pace. "The Mockingjay cannot just die. We've got to do something."

Tigris growls, "No one has ever known what to do with her."

I shake my head at them both, I watch Brinna pace. "Brinna, she has lost all hope. "

She meets my eyes with steely determination. "Then we give it back to her."

"It is not that simple. The Capitol does not own her, Brinna. If she wants to give up, what are we going to do? Send Plutarch? Send me with some court appointed-mandatory hope training? You cannot order someone to have hope. If she wants to give up, shouldn't we respect her choice?"

"You think I want her to live because I am the President and it would be inconvenient for us to lose her now? I'll admit this would not be opportune timing. But that is not what is driving me: I will not lose another child to this war, especially not Katniss Everdeen. She survived two reapings and a rebellion. Whatever is in her way, we will get her through it. You have my complete authorization to get Peeta anything he asks for."

I shake my head. I know Brinna well enough not to argue with her.

Brinna Paylor's POV

When Marus quietly leaves, I stand by my desk shaking and shut my eyes. Save them. I can still hear Boggs in my dream. I am not sure if I am right in my interpretation, but I know I cannot let another child die for this war. For it to be Katniss, when Boggs and I had a pact to protect her and she has already sacrificed so much, is untenable. I hear a sound and snap open my eyes to find Tigris standing in front of me.

"He cares about you." Tigris rasps. I nod. What else is there to say? I dislike fighting with Marus. The thought of just letting her go, though, is too much for me.

"Do you think that I am trying to manipulate her for the wrong reasons? Is this how Snow started? Wanting to manipulate things for the right reasons, only to end up where he controlled everything for the wrong ones?" Tigris is quiet for a moment, and then I hear a sound – like a rusty laugh – come from her throat.

"I take it that is a no." I smile at her and she smiles back. "Do you think I am out of line?" Tigris shakes her head.

"Snow had no good motives." Tigris says in her strange voice. I sigh heavily.

"Tigris, I need you to do something for me, something that no one can know about." I watch her face for her nod, and then I pull the Mockingjay pin out of my pocket. Tigris's eyes get wide and her whiskers twitch. "Pockets are handy, remember?" I smile a little wider at her, and then snap back to the topic at hand. "I need a copy of the original Mockingjay pin made before the exhibit. It has to be an exact replica, right down to the patina. Can you do that for me?"

She nods, eying the pin as I hand it to her. She waits for a moment, flipping it over in her hand, examining it. She growls softly, "mockingjays made a mockery of the Capitol."

"Not this Capitol." She meets my eyes.

"Do you know the story of the jabberyjays?" Tigris stares at me like she is expecting me to understand.

"Yes. The jabberjays stayed in the wild and mated with mockingbird females, since there were no female jabberjays. Their offspring survive even now." What is she getting at?

Tigris fumbles in her bag for a moment and pulls out a piece of paper, which she hands to me. It is a drawing of Peeta – a self-portrait of him painting. I arch my eyebrow at her and she points down to the picture again. "The Mockingjay needs a mate of her own."

"…Peeta? You think that Katniss and Peeta will actually fall in love?" I think back to Peeta's reaction to Katniss's painting in Snow's bedroom and know that it might happen for him. Katniss, however, is another story.

Tigris nods, her eyes shining with something that I think may be hope. "I saw them in the Capitol before the Capitol Center."

I look down at the picture in my hand again and fervently hope that Tigris is right for both Katniss's and Peeta's sakes. If she is right, Peeta can save her and Katniss can make Peeta's dreams come true – because mockingjays mate for life.