Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.
Spectator
By Fanfic Allergy
Chapter Twenty Five
We have to wait a few minutes, though, because apparently Farl didn't know about the force field and ended up with vomit all over him. While the poor boy takes his second shower of the day, Effie surveys the rest of us.
She isn't happy with what Bing or I are wearing, I can tell because her mouth makes a little moue when she looks at the two of us. Bing blushes and goes to his room to change.
Bing emerges a few seconds later wearing a jacket over a slightly less rumpled shirt. Effie gives a quick nod of approval and looks at me expectantly.
I just cross my arms and refuse to move. I am not going to wear clothing that is overdone and fussy just because the Capitol will like it more. I'm pregnant. I deserve to be comfortable.
I can see that she wants to say something to me, but then she checks her watch and shakes her head. "I do wish Farl would hurry. We have a schedule we need to keep."
"Why does it matter?" Mrs. Mellark wants to know.
I find myself agreeing with her. It's not like we're doing all that much that's going to be of interest to the Capitol viewers.
Effie stomps her high-heeled foot in exasperation. "Don't you know anything?" she asks, waving her gloved hands around.
Mrs. Mellark puts her hands on her hips and leans forward toward Effie. "Obviously not, why don't you take pity on us poor district souls and explain what we should know already?"
"Snow planned this," Effie says, enunciating every word. "President Coriolanus Snow. Bringing you here was his idea, and it has worked out fabulously for Peeta and Prim," she adds quickly. "He's the one who requested you take a tour of the facilities. That you get interviewed by Caesar Flickerman himself instead of the first year interns they usually send to underperforming districts."
"Like Twelve," Mrs. Mellark states flatly.
"Yes, like District Twelve," Effie confirms. "So if Snow wants you to be in Mentor Central at a specific time on a specific day, I'm going to make sure that happens. Is that clear enough for you?" The escort tries to smile but it comes off as brittle and false.
"I think everything's perfectly clear, Ms. Trinket," Mr. Mellark says, placing a hand on his wife's arm. "Thank you for filling us in on just how much President Snow has done for us."
I don't think about the sixty thousand total he's pledged to help Peeta and Prim. I also don't think about my admission that I'd do anything to make sure Prim got home. Yes, President Snow has done a lot for us. I am not looking forward to finding out the price of his generosity.
A few minutes later, Farl comes out wearing a simple button down shirt tucked into navy pants. He's got a sport coat folded over one arm. Effie smiles at this. Good, at least this means I don't have time to change so Effie won't try to make me. I resign myself to having to wear a dress tomorrow when I get up, even though I find them annoying.
Effie leads us to the elevator. Efficient as always, she's telling us about what to expect and where we're going as we walk. "Now, Mentor Central is located in a different wing of this building than the training facilities and ballrooms that you've seen so far. On the other side of the interview stage is a slightly smaller tower. That's Mentor Central. It's only four stories high. The first floor is a reception area that opens up onto the square outside. The general public can come in and make donations of any size there. There's also two conference rooms for more serious negotiations."
The elevator arrives and we all crowd in. Effie pushes the button for the ground floor and continues her narration. "The next floor is a cafeteria for the mentors and other victors to eat when they're on duty but don't need to be actively negotiating a sponsorship or directing the delivery of a gift. There's also a kitchen for the avoxes to make the various meals that need to be brought to a mentor on active duty upstairs as well as a few quarters for the avoxes assigned to Mentor Central to sleep."
"Avoxes?" my mother asks. It's a word we haven't heard before.
Effie makes a face. "Rehabilitated traitors and criminals who have had their tongues cut out and are forced to act as servants and manual labor here in the Capitol," she explains quickly, waving her hands impatiently. "It's really much more humane and less of a drain on resources to do it this way. The government doesn't have to waste funds and manpower on incarcerating minor troublemakers and the avox can repay the government for sparing his or her life. It's really quite an elegant solution."
Effie's explanation sounds like textbook Capitol propaganda but I can't really say anything. That means that the silent servants who've been taking care of us since we've arrived at the Capitol are people that the government has labeled as traitors and troublemakers. I wonder if this would be my punishment if they caught me poaching one too many times or if the 'honor' is only reserved for Capitol citizens.
I don't want to find out.
I'm not the only one who's horrified by the concept. I can see that my mother, Mr. Mellark, Bing, and Farl all feel the same way I do. Mrs. Mellark just looks bored.
The doors to the elevator open and Effie herds us toward the hallway leading to the studio where we had our interviews with Caesar. But instead of heading left into the backstage, we go right toward the area called Mentor Central. I note that there aren't any signs or directions on the walls but that Effie seems to know where she's going without thinking about it. Or at least I don't think she's thinking about where she's going because she hasn't stopped talking.
"The third floor is where the Gamemaker representative's office is located. Mentors can go here to discuss game options with the Gamemaker on duty. Also on that floor are two small rooms with several beds in them, one for male mentors and one for female mentors. There's only four beds per room so you can imagine that there's quite a struggle early in the Games for beds. But later on, like now, it isn't so bad." She lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Although, Haymitch tells me they are extremely uncomfortable. Not like the beds in Twelve's quarters at all."
We smile at her attempt at levity.
Entering the first floor that she told us about, Effie waves at the receptionist on duty, the young, green-haired man I remember seeing from the tete-a-tete two nights ago. The foyer is sumptuously decorated with plants flanking the large granite desk. On the walls are paintings, if you can call them that. The one behind the green-haired young man can best be described as a well used painter's drip cloth. The one opposite him seems to be a bunch of dogs playing some sort of card game. It's just one more thing that separates the Capitol from the districts.
The District Twelve escort pushes the up button on the elevator and I wonder briefly what's under us, but I don't ask. It's probably something silly like a gym or pool for the mentors to relax in when off duty.
While waiting for the elevator, Effie finishes her description of the place we're going to see in just a few minutes. "On the top floor is the mentor control room, which is where we're going. It's entirely open except for the refresher stations, of course." The last is directed at me since Cecelia and I made a point of stopping in most of the bathrooms along our tour yesterday.
The ride to the top floor is blissfully silent. I try to compose myself because I know that there's going to be a camera crew waiting for us when we get out of the elevator.
The doors open into a room that is the most high tech place I've seen in my life. On the wall to my left is a bank of twenty four screens surrounding a much larger one. One for each tribute, I guess, and then one showing what's currently being broadcast across Panem. At the moment, there are only eight screens lit up seven of the smaller ones and the large one in the middle. There's no sound and for that I'm thankful.
About ten feet in front of the elevator are three cubicles set up side by side. Each cubicle has two chairs, three screens, and two sets of headphones with some kind of mouth piece attached to them. Only the middle cubicle is currently occupied. Even though the occupants backs are to us, I recognize Brutus and Lyme from District Two.
To my right is another bank of six cubicles, but only one is occupied. I recognize Quark, from District Five. He was the winner of the Seventy First Games three years ago. He was the last non-Career to win the Games. I don't remember the older woman with him, but she looks positively ancient.
On the far wall, there's one last bank of cubicles. The ones closest to the tower of screens are manned by people I recognize from previous Games - Chaff and Seeder from Eleven and Haymitch from Twelve. Sitting with Haymitch is Cecelia from Eight, she must be helping him out since he doesn't have another victor to share mentoring duties with. I'm a little surprised that she'd do that for him, but I guess that district prejudice is not as strong as victor solidarity.
Finally, in the middle of the room is a table holding what appears to be a three dimensional holographic map of the arena. There aren't any lights indicating where the tributes are or where known traps are. Probably to prevent the mentors from sending gifts that would give away that information.
Along the edge of the room are large floor to ceiling windows all along the walls and behind the main bank of screens is a doorway leading out to a balcony. A quick glance to my left shows the door to one of the refresher stations that Effie mentioned earlier next to the elevator. From where the Elevator opened up into the room, I'm guessing there's another bathroom on my right. Good to know. Since it's becoming clear that the larger my baby grows the smaller my bladder becomes. I am not looking forward to my last trimester. I'll probably be peeing every five minutes at the rate I'm going.
As I'm taking this in, Effie is greeting the camera crew and victors who will be showing us the ropes. I notice that Clint's family isn't here with us. And I remind myself to ask Effie about it when she's free.
When she comes back, she tells us that each family group is going to be paired off with a victor and taken to an empty station to be shown the ropes. My mother and I are going to be taken by Beetee Lee from Three again.
I hang back for a moment and motion to Effie that I'd like to talk to her.
The pink bewigged woman trots over to me and asks, "Is there something you wanted? A snack maybe?"
What is it with people trying to feed me? I feel like I'm going to be fattened up for slaughter. I shake my head. "Maybe later. Why aren't Clint's parents here?"
She looks confused for a moment then brightens. "Oh, you mean the boy from Ten? Dreadful timing, him dying like that. But since he's no longer in the running, there's no need for the Capitol to waste time or resources on them."
Does that mean that they were executed? Turned into avoxes? What? "And that means?"
"They were sent home, of course! No need to keep them around here anymore which is excellent news for us. Less competition!" Effie's got her Capitol persona going full swing and I find myself missing the more serious and sympathetic woman from the tete-a-tete a few nights ago.
"Right. I forgot about that." I look over to where my mother is watching the two of us with Beetee. "I should get going."
Effie stops me with one hand on my forearm. "Katniss, we aren't sending them home to be cruel," she says in a low voice. "But how would you feel if you were forced to stay and interact with people if your sister were dead?"
I nod at her. She's made her point. I wouldn't want anything to do with the Games, the remaining tributes' families or anything if Prim died. I'd just want to get home to where things are familiar and safe to mourn. I can respect that. I also understand that Effie has as much of a part to play as I do. She isn't the heartless and shallow woman that I remember from the last eight Reapings. But she has to act that way because it's what the Capitol expects. I think about Cinna and how gentle and kind he's been. I wonder what kind of mask he wears.
Joining Beetee and my mother, I look over the set up. Set into the desk is another screen and a keyboard. Beetee motions for us to sit down and starts to show us the miscellaneous technical intricacies of how the Arena works and the various aspects of being a mentor.
It's a little more complex than I realized. Since the Arena is surrounded by a dome-like force field, the actual mechanics of delivering a sponsorship gift are fairly complex. When the order comes in or when the mentor decides a tribute needs help, they have to call up the item on a digital version of the catalog I saw at the Mayor's. They place the order and the funds come out of the tribute's account. The catalog updates automatically at every price increase, Beetee tells us, and it just updated again after Clint's death.
Once the gift is ordered, one of two things happens. If the gift is something standard, like Prim's string, the order is sent directly to one of the Gamemakers stationed at the Arena. There, they have a supply bunker of standard items that they pull the item out of. The gift is then packaged in the iconic silver parachute and container, then it is handed off to the hovercraft pilots to deliver.
That's right, the same pilots who retrieve the bodies of dead tributes deliver the sponsorship gifts.
If the gift is non-standard, like the cookies Haymitch is having made with the flowers painted on, the gift first needs to be run by the Gamemaker here in Mentor Central and the price assessed for it. I wonder how much the cookies would go for, but don't ask. Once agreement on the price is reached, it is commissioned and sent to the Gamemakers out at the Arena. There, it is checked to make sure no contraband or messages are in the non-standard item before it's packaged up and delivered to the hovercraft.
He then shows us how the parachutes are guided in using a remote control so they'll end up close to the correct tribute and not snarled in branches or overhangs. It's not easy and it takes practice. I wonder how Haymitch is able to do it drunk, then realize that in all of the years I've been watching the Hunger Games, that Prim's gift from me is the first sponsorship gift I've seen delivered to a Twelve tribute.
He also explains how the entire Arena is surrounded by a special force field dome to keep out the elements. It wouldn't do to have a stray rainstorm ruin the Gamemakers' specially engineered drought. There are also force fields around other things in the Arena, like the hovercraft launch pad and the muttation holding pens.
My mother seems interested in Beetee's explanations, but I'm wondering about Prim. I look up from the screen that Beetee is showing us and over to the cubicle where Haymitch and Cecelia are.
As if he's able to sense me watching him, Haymitch's eyes meet mine. He cocks his head as if asking a question - what do you want?
I glance over to the main screen and then back to him. I want to see how Prim is doing.
He smirks and nods his head once. I can come over.
Excusing myself, I get up and walk over to Twelve's cubicle. As I pass the table in the center of the room, I get a good look at the Arena for the first time. It's larger than I thought, about ten miles across. The lake is actually on one edge of the Arena, not in the center like I thought. The far side of the lake is bordered by large unassailable cliffs and about five hundred yards offshore of those cliffs is a small island that from what I can see houses the retrieval hovercraft. As I've seen on television, most of the Arena is forested except for a few isolated clearings. However, what I haven't seen is the area on the other side of the wheat field. It's a large wooded bog, surrounded by high cliffs. Basically the whole wheat field/bog combination is one large blind canyon. No easy way in or out. The rest of the Arena is what I expect based on what I saw on television. Wooded hills with a few cliffs, creeks, springs, and caves.
Nothing memorable about it when compared with the desert of death of the Sixty Ninth Games or the urban maze of last year's Games. I briefly wonder what the Quarter Quell Arena will be like. From what Seneca Crane said the other night, it sounds like they're going to be going all out.
When I get to the District Twelve cubicle, I stand next to Haymitch and look at his set up. Unlike the mock up that Beetee was showing my mother and me, this is the real thing.
Cecelia looks up from the screens, headset over her ears, and smiles at me. She's listening to whatever Prim and the rest of her alliance are saying. It looks like they're trying to decide who is going to go out and collect something. Possibly more snares or fishing nets. They have enough greens for the day.
Haymitch sees me but he holds up one hand warning me not to say anything. "That's right. I need you to get off of your ass and deliver my sponsorship gift when I tell you to deliver it. Not now, but when I give the order. Got it?" he asks, speaking into that odd mouthpiece that's attached to the headset.
He's wearing the headphones oddly, too. The side without the mouthpiece is pulled off of his ear and back onto his head. I'm guessing the one side plays the audio from the Games and the side he's listening to is acting like the earpiece on a telephone. After a little more exchange, he punches a button on the desk and looks up at me.
"Do you know how much of a pain in the ass getting those damned cookies caused me?" he asks, not even bothering to say hello.
I shrug. "Not really? I assume they have bakers in the Capitol."
He rolls his eyes. "Oh, they have bakers all right. Just not any that can decorate a cookie worth a damn. First off, no one knew what katniss or primrose flowers looked like. I had to get a damned horticultural expert to lend me color plates of the stupid things. Then some idiot decided to paint roses, like the kind our esteemed president wears, on the first set of cookies." He pauses and regards me with annoyance. "Please note I said 'first set.' The second set got made but were so damned fragile that they broke into pieces in transit. We're now on the third set."
"I didn't know it'd be such a hassle," I say, crossing my arms. "I'm sure Mr. Mellark could have done it."
"Now you tell me!" He takes off his headset and stands up. "Let's go have a little talk, sweetheart. Outside." He motions to the balcony behind the bank of screens.
"What about Prim and Peeta?"
"Cici's got it covered," he replies and then raises his voice. "Don't you?"
Cecelia gives us a thumbs up followed by a little shooing motion.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. "See? Now, come on."
I let him lead the way. On the far edge of the balcony is a set of stairs leading up to the roof, which is where he takes me. The roof is flat with a few benches scattered along the edge and a few pots of flowers. He very deliberately leads me away from the benches.
"What do you want, Haymitch?" I ask with my hands on my hips.
"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you're in?" he counters.
I roll my eyes. "I'm here, Haymitch. So's my sister. So's my mother. So I've got a pretty good idea I'm not having a carefree jaunt in the Meadow."
"No, I mean you personally. Not your sister. Not your mother. Not any of the other damned tributes' families. But you, sweetheart. Snow's taken an interest in you and that is not good."
My arms fall to my sides. "How do you know that?"
"Effie," he answers. "She told me about your conversation and what she could make out of it. So he knows that Peeta's not the father." It isn't a question.
"Yeah, he knows. I guess he had a test done."
Haymitch pulls out a metal flask and takes a drink from it. "Damn right he had a test done. He's probably going through all of the Reaping records for Twelve right now to find out who the real father is."
I feel the blood drain from my face. Crap! That means that Gale's now in danger.
Haymitch sees my expression and smirks. "That's right, sweetheart, old lover boy's going to get found out. After that, who knows what. Snow might just kill him and his family to keep him from spilling the beans about the kid. Might not. Might use him to keep you in line."
"Snow doesn't need to use Gale," I say, looking away. "He's already got Prim. And he already knows that I'll do just about anything to save her."
"Well ain't that an unfortunate series of revelations," he mutters, taking another drink. "He's got you by the short hairs, don't he?"
I nod.
He stretches his back. "Well, that there explains a lot of things."
"Like what?"
"Like that donation of his."
"But that's a good thing, right? He's invested in Prim and Peeta now. He's not going to do anything to make them lose. Right?"
Haymitch throws back his head and laughs. "Girl, who do you think all of that sponsorship money goes to?"
I look at him confused. "I assume the Gamemakers."
Haymitch shakes his head. "Nope. All of the money the Games generate go right back into the government. And who runs the government? Good old Coriolanus Snow. All of the Gamemakers are government employees and paid a good salary for their efforts. But they're not the government. Snow is."
The implication floors me. Snow essentially bought my compliance at no real cost to him. If Prim wins, he can say he helped her. If he loses, he's not out anything. It's an ingenious plan, and a damned underhanded one.
"And that ain't the worst of it, sweetheart," he continues. "I've been talking to the other mentors. Each of their tributes got a donation from President Snow. Differing amounts, but all got a substantial donation. That way any tribute who wins this here Games and their family are now in his eternal debt."
I don't know what to say. I don't know what I can say.
"So I ask again. Do you know just how much trouble you're in?"
I shake my head. I guess I don't know.
He sighs. "I didn't think so. You're going to have to be careful, sweetheart. Snow's got plans for you. And he's got plans for that kid of yours." He motions to my belly. "If I had to guess, he's likely gonna use you as leverage against Peeta if the kid manages to win."
"What about Prim?" I ask.
"Your sister isn't the problematic one. Peeta is. We can pass a lot of what darling Primrose is doing off as youth and innocence. Peeta is a whole other ball of wax. He knows what he's doing. He knows what he's saying. He doesn't care because he doesn't think he's got anything to lose."
"So he's sure he's going to die? Even with the rule change?"
"You haven't been watching much have you?" he asks.
"I'm watching as much as I can!" I flare. How dare he imply that I don't care about what's going on in these Games. "I've had to go on all of these stupid tours and see stupid doctors and have dinner with people I don't know who want to have sex with my twelve year old sister. So yeah, I've missed stuff!"
"Effie told me you found out about one of the so-called perks of being a victor. I'm real sorry about that." His voice actually sounds apologetic.
"Did that happen to you?" I ask.
He snorts. "Does it look like I'm the kind of victor the Capitol would want in their bed?"
I notice that he really didn't answer my question which tells me that at one time, yes, the Capitol did want him and that he doesn't want to talk about it. Respecting his wishes, I change the subject back to Peeta. "So what has he been saying that's getting the Capitol so upset?"
"He's not making any grand speeches, mind you. If he were, they'd have offed him long ago, public darling or not. Like they did with Johanna's girl." He pauses to take another drink, allowing me time to make the connection that he must be referring to District Seven's winner, Johanna Mason. He puts away his flask and continues. "No, it's the continual reminders that the Capitol is responsible for all of the deaths in the Arena. That the Capitol isn't to be trusted. That the rule change is likely a trick like many of the Feasts are so that allies will have to kill each other in the end. He's also making sure to do as much as he can to show that the districts can work together. Prim may be the spark that formed that three District alliance. But Peeta's the fuel that's fanning the flames."
"So why doesn't Snow just have them killed?"
"Who knows," Haymitch says with a sigh. "He might, yet. That's why it's so important we keep that boy from screwing things up any more than he already has."
I nod. "So what do you want me to do?"
He thinks about it for a moment. "What are you doing for the rest of the Games?"
I think back to what Effie told us and reply, "I'm supposed to join the other families and watch the rest of the Games with some victors, so the Capitol can watch our reactions or something like that."
He nods. "That's what I thought. Nothing really important then."
I shrug my shoulders. I agree with him.
"So you're going to get a promotion, sweetheart, to mentor. Don't even have to go through the Games to do it. Congratulations."
"What?" I ask stupidly. "Me? A mentor?"
"Yep. This way I can keep an eye on you and our two kids in that damned Arena. And even better, Snow can't surprise you without someone with you who knows how the snake operates." He sounds so pleased with himself.
I decide it's not worth fighting over and frankly I'd rather be here than forced to watch the Games with everyone watching my every move and emotion. "Okay, so what am I going to need to do?"
"Nothing major, sweetheart. Just pay attention and learn. And don't make waves." He pulls a pocket watch out of his pants pocket and glances at it. "We should be heading back. Don't want to raise too much suspicion."
We go back inside and Haymitch tells Cecelia that she can go. The woman smiles and hands me the headphones. "Don't let him push you around too much, Katniss. He's got a big enough of a head as it is. And if he does, you just tell Effie to come find me. I'll get him to cool down," she says before walking out.
Haymitch chuckles a little at what she says and gives her a little salute.
I'm a little sorry to see her go. I like the woman with her personable nature and motherly appearance. She's funny in a self-deprecating kind of way and is full of good advice and helpful tips.
I get settled and turn my focus to the screens in front of me. For the first time, I can follow Prim around without being beholden to what the Gamemakers think makes good television.
She and Peeta have ventured away from the main group. Next to me, Haymitch lets out a little whoop and punches a button and starts talking rapidly to the person on the other end telling them that it's time to send out the hovercraft with the sponsorship gift.
I was right earlier, they are going upstream to a narrower section of the stream to gather the nets they'd placed there the night before. They land three good sized trout and move a little further upstream to a quiet, shaded section of the stream to reset the nets.
A familiar tinkling comes through the headset I'm wearing. A sponsorship parachute.
Peeta and Prim hear it too. They look up and watch the parachute glide toward them.
When it lands only a few feet away from the two, they reach out and turn off the beacon and open the package. The cookies Haymitch and I had been talking about are revealed. There are only two of them, one for each tribute. One has a yellow primrose flower painted on it while the other is decorated with a light lavender katniss flower.
Prim claps her hands and goes, "Cookies!" She holds the primrose one up. "And just like the one I didn't get a chance to eat at home."
Peeta frowns. He knows that there's something meaningful about that statement but he's trying to figure it out. For a second, I wonder if I've suggested something that's too obscure. He picks up his cookie, the one with the katniss flower on it, and whispers, "Katniss."
His eyes widen for a moment and in that instant he looks panicked and I know he's figured out the message. He knows I'm here in the Capitol and he's guessed at what that means. Then, I watch as he carefully schools his features. "They must have done the interviews, Prim, for us to get these."
Looking up from her cookie, she asks, "Why do you say that?"
He gives a smile that I know must be forced but doesn't look it. "Because of these, silly! I'm sure my dad told them all about me making the three of you cookies. And I bet Katniss told them all about you not getting to eat yours. So someone nice in the Capitol went out of their way to make sure you got your cookie." He carefully shifts a little closer to Prim. "I only got one so I wouldn't feel left out. We'd better eat these now before the rest of the group sees them."
"But I wanted to share my cookie with Rue!"
"That's sweet of you, Prim, but what about Rani and Thresh? Do you want them to feel left out?"
My sister considers this. "No. But you could share your cookie with Rani and I could give a little of mine to Thresh."
Peeta shakes his head. "That isn't going to work. These were gifts for you and me. From the Capitol. If the people in the Capitol wanted Rue and Rani and Thresh to each have a cookie they'd have sent one for each of them. They only sent one for you and one for me. Do you know why that is?"
Prim screws up her face into a pout, but she nods her head. "They want you and me to win."
"That's right. They want us to win and even though we like Rani and Rue and Thresh only two of us get to go home."
Beside me, Haymitch lets out an explosive sigh. "Finally! The boy gets it."
"So now what?" I ask.
"Now we work on getting these two kids home. That alliance of theirs ain't gonna last much longer."
I nod. I can see that, now that it's down to just seven tributes left, the alliance is likely to break soon. I can only hope that Rue, Thresh and Rani are going to hold true to their promise and not attack as soon as the alliance breaks or in the case of Rani launch a preemptive strike with those berries of hers. Clearing my head of things I can't control, I focus my attention back on my sister.
She's eating the cookie slowly with careful little bites. Peeta watches her with a wistful expression on his face. When she finishes the cookie, he hands the one with the katniss flower on it to her. "Here, take it."
"But it's for you!" she protests.
"But you look like you need it more. You've had a hard day."
"Peeta Mellark, stop treating me like a baby!" Prim says, crossing her arms and scowling at him. "I am your partner. Got it? Not some kid to be taken care of. Now the Capitol sent us two cookies. Two! They wanted you to have one too. Or do you want the Capitol to think you're not grateful for their gift?"
Haymitch does a little dance in his seat next to me. "Remind me to give that sister of yours a little hug when she gets home. She told that boy but good."
"She's good at that," I say with a smile on my face. "You don't expect it from her, because she's so sweet, but she's not stupid either."
"That she ain't," Haymitch agrees with me.
Back in the Arena, Peeta sighs and takes a bite out of the cookie. Then he looks down at it with an odd expression on his face.
"It's not as good as the ones your father bakes, is it?" Prim asks, deciphering his expression.
"It's not bad," Peeta says diplomatically, taking another bite and chewing it thoughtfully. "I think that they need to add a little less sugar and more butter and vanilla though." He finishes the cookie. "Or maybe some kind of citrus icing. It needs something to cut through the sweet."
Prim nods. "We should head back."
"Right. The fish need to be cooked soon anyway."
When they get back, Rue looks up from the little cooking fire. "There you are! We were starting to get worried."
Peeta holds up the three trout. "The nets were full and we decided to reset them a little further upstream. Sorry we took so long."
Rue sniffs. "It's a good thing you came back when you did. I was about to send Thresh and Rani after you two."
"So is lunch ready?" he asks, changing the subject.
The little girl nods and takes the three fish from Peeta to clean and skewer over the fire to cook.
Haymitch nudges me and points to his screen. "You notice how they've each taken on a different role in the alliance. Rue's the cook. Prim's the medic. Thresh is the warrior. Rani's the scout. And Peeta's the leader," he says, gesturing to each tribute in turn. "You see, that's part of the problem."
I'm confused. "Why is that a problem? Don't the Careers do that?"
"Not to the same degree. You see, the Careers, despite their allying early on, never fully trust one another. This group does. There's no worries about Rue poisoning everyone. Thresh taking out people while they sleep. And so on. And then there's the boy."
"Peeta?"
"Yeah, him. Most alliances work on a consensus basis. This one, Peeta's the clear leader. They may not have shown it out in the districts, but the rest of us here have seen it."
"They haven't shown it," I murmur and I wonder why not.
"Think about for a second, sweetheart. It'll come to you."
And it does. As I watch the camp go about their daily chores of cleaning, gathering firewood, purifying water, and setting watches I notice something. All four of the other tributes check in with Peeta first before going and doing something and if Peeta vetoes the suggestion, like he did with Rani wanting to go set more snares, they don't argue. It's a little surprising that these tributes from other districts, specifically Rani and Thresh, would listen to the son of a baker from Twelve. And that's the problem in the Capitol's eyes. Peeta has shown that he's a leader and what's more that he doesn't buy into the Capitol's propaganda. To the Capitol, that's dangerous. Too dangerous to let get out.
I glance up at the main screen showing the Games. It's focusing on Cato and Clove, who are slowly walking through the wheat field toward the rocky cliffs on the far side. It's like I thought, so long as the Capitol has something else to focus on they aren't going to show all of Peeta's strengths.
I look at Haymitch. "Why?" I can't fully articulate the question. Why hasn't the Capitol taken Peeta out like they did with Tacoma?
Haymitch shrugs and arches an eyebrow at me. He doesn't know, but he's not going to complain either. We both turn our eyes back to the Games.
A couple of hours later, when I look up at the room I notice that it's just gone down to the active mentors. I glance over at Haymitch.
"Effie took 'em to get some grub. Figured you'd want to stay here."
I nod. "I am hungry."
"Figured. I ordered lunch for us a few minutes ago. It should be here shortly."
A few minutes later, the elevator opens and an avox steps out. He's carrying a large tray with two carafes of liquid and a large round plate with something steaming on it. He places it on a portable tray that he's carrying on one elbow and hands us each a plate. The steaming food is some kind of round flatbread with a white cheese, tomato sauce, and what looks like different kinds of meat spread all over on top. It's cut into eight equal slices and Haymitch picks up the one with the most meat on it and takes a bite.
"It ain't fancy like most of the Capitol slop," he says with his mouth full. "But it'll fill you up and keep you going."
I shrug my shoulders and grab a slice. It's heavy and greasy and I can only manage to get a few mouthfuls down before grabbing a glass of water. The food sits like a rock in my stomach and I'm debating throwing up.
Haymitch watches me eat with amusement. "Not to your delicate sensibilities, sweetheart?" he asks me, waving over the avox, who has retreated to one of the corners of the room. "Perhaps we can get you something a little more to your liking."
The man walks over and cocks his head at us, waiting for an order. "Maybe some fruit?" I ask, trying to think of something light that won't set off my stomach. "And some of that salad from the banquet with Seneca Crane? And some tea? Please?"
The avox nods and takes away my plate with the half-eaten slice on it. Good. I don't ever want to have that again.
While Haymitch eats, I turn my attention back to the Games. I can see that it's getting on toward mid-afternoon where the Arena is and other than Thresh, who is on watch, the remaining four members of the alliance are all taking a quick nap.
Or three of them are.
Rani is lying on her side, with her eyes open. She's gnawing at her lower lip as if she's debating something. She rolls over and looks at Peeta sadly. Her eyes take in every detail of his face, like she's memorizing it. It's unnerving.
Haymitch notices it too. "That girl's got a fierce debate goin' on with herself. And you know that ain't gonna be good."
"She's got nightlock," I whisper to him. "Why hasn't she used it?"
"Who knows? That could be what she's debating. Rue does most of the cooking so she'd have to find a way to slip it past that little girl without raising suspicion." He shrugs. "Or it could be she's got somethin' else planned for them berries."
I can't think of what that might be so I watch Rani struggle with her thoughts. About a half hour later, she seems to come to a decision.
She sits up and shakes Peeta awake. "I've got to talk to you."
He sits up quickly and moves away from where Rue and Prim are still sleeping. "What's wrong?"
She looks down at her fingers and then back up at Peeta. "I've been thinking." She takes a deep breath. "I think it's time we end this alliance."
AN:
Written 7/26/13
Revised 9/15/13
Beta Read by RoseFyre.
Sorry for the wait. My brain has been dead and I haven't been able to write or even revise in the last month. It's just insanely busy. I'm still busy but guilt is a great motivator. I'm still burned out at the moment so haven't added anything to the fic in over a month. So no clue when the next update will be.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed: catnip851, DandelionDreamers (who reviewed the whole fic!), Guest, ForFutureReference, HealthyHungerGamesObsession101, ShinnyGlaceon, ShortySC22, Katara1439, hgfan, .9, jj, Everlark Lover, ernacea (who also reviewed the whole thing!), and RoseFyre.
Until next time!