I am so glad to see that you are all still interested in my story (especially after I left you hanging for so long)! I really appreciate it!
This chapter is my longest yet I believe, and it has a lot going on. I had so much fun with this one and did a lot of research from all three books. I'm really excited to see what people think!
This is my first shot at a FanFiction. I DO NOT own the Hunger Games Series. Some lines taken directly from Suzanne Collins' books.
I haven't read many FanFictions either so any theme resemblance to other Hunger Games FanFiction is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 26:
The week after the banquet there was a holiday for the whole district. All the businesses were closed with free food and entertainment brought in from the Capitol. With the stress of the fighting in the arena gone, Peeta and I find it much easier to resume the old friendship we had initially developed. Of course we cannot be entirely removed from the situation at hand. Forever tugging in the back of my mind is the Games, for at any moment we could be called to prove our "romantic" relationship. Since I have yet to talk to Gale alone and get his take on things there is really nothing I can do. I hope he will be able to sneak away from the celebration today at some point so we can talk.
"So what do you think 'Capitol Entertainment' means exactly?" Peeta asks as we walk towards the square, where the main celebrations and activities will take place.
I look around to see if the kids are listening. Thankfully, Rory, Vick, Prim and Posy had all scurried ahead, excitedly chattering among themselves. My mother and Hazelle are walking at a hurried pace to keep up to them- trying not to let their children too far out of their sight.
"I've been wondering the same thing," I voice my concern. "I mean, in the Capitol watching kids kill each other in the Hunger Games is considered entertainment. Can't say I really trust their judgement of quality entertainment; I don't really want to know what they have in store for us today."
"That is my worry exactly. It's like, all day I'm going to be wondering if there is some ulterior motive behind all this," Peeta replies.
"It wouldn't surprise me in the least." I intend to keep a close watch out today for anything suspicious.
Nothing could have prepared us for the transformation of square. Banners and decorations hanging from every possible spot, a maze of white tents and booths are positioned around containing everything from food to activities and harmless games of amusement, colourful street performers- some are juggling while other do tricks, one even breathes fire- weave their way through the crowds, as music is played from some unseen location. To add to all this chaos are the multitude of cameras set on recording and capturing every single moment. Peacekeepers are stationed all around the square, some are even moving throughout the crowds for extra security.
The extravagance is overwhelming and Peeta and I both agree excessive. However, we do have to admit it is festive in a way and quite the celebration. Just not a District 12 celebration, this has the Capitol written all over it. The funny thing is that all the fancy Capitol trappings clearly cannot mask the distinct essence and poverty of our district. No matter how hard they try, their influence will always look out of place here.
Though this holiday is to celebrate the return of both our tributes and the end of the Games, which I am very happy about, I do not much feel like celebrating. I understand the cost all this came at. The kids are so excited though that I put on a happy face just for them.
Peeta and I offer to watch the kids, and follow them through the maze of activities. They bounce from booth to booth playing the little games and collecting tickets, which they can exchange later for prizes of some sort. After a quick break to try some of the free food provided by the Capitol, they are back at it again. Despite it all I am glad they are having fun.
"Katniss! Peeta! There you are!" I turn to see Madge approach with a happy smile on her face. Her blond hair done up perfectly with a blue ribbon that matches her simple dress. She looks both relaxed and comfortable while being entirely put together on purpose. A half step behind her is Gale, who is as equally put together. Their stylists are probably still dictating what they wear.
I'm thrown off a bit by their unexpected appearance and only manage to mutter out an, "Oh, hi."
Thankfully, Peeta greets them with enough enthusiasm for the both of us.
"How are you enjoying the day?" Madge asks.
We both pause. We don't dare tell her our true opinions, lest someone overhear.
Peeta is the first to respond, "It's definitely different from what we are use to here in District 12, that's for sure. I've never seen anything like."
"I know. It seems strange for all this to be here at home," says Madge. I'm glad even she notices how unnatural this seems.
Peeta continues, "I can't get over the amount of food they are just giving away."
"It is a bit excessive I must admit," Madge replies again with a little laugh.
Madge and Peeta are the only two keeping this conversation going, so I feel like I better contribute in some way.
"I hear there are suppose to be fireworks later tonight."
"Yes! Gale, actually is to help with them."
I turn and look at Gale, hoping he will talk to me, "Really?"
Instead he just nods his head and says, "Yeah."
An awkward silence then passes through the four of us, until it is eventually broken by someone calling Peeta's name through the crowd.
"Peeta! Peeta!" a young boy's voice calls. We all turn to see the three other Hawthorne kids, plus my sister running towards us. I feel myself stiffen. Why are they running? Is there trouble? All worries are cast aside when I see they are smiling.
The voice had come from Vick, who is holding a small bag and waving it for us to see. The kids stop in front of us completely out of breath; Vick first, followed by Prim and Rory, who has Posy on his back.
"Look what we got!" Vick opens the bag and reveals two dozen beautifully decorated cookies.
As he does this Prim explains, "We pooled our tickets together to get them. That way we could just share."
"Vick wanted you to see them before they all disappeared," Rory says to Peeta. "You know how he is."
Vick, eyes alight, exclaims while holding a cookie out to Peeta, "I bet you could make these no problem Peeta!"
"Yeah? You don't say!" He takes the cookie from Vick's hand and inspects the design of sugar and icing. "They look pretty good. The true test is, how do they taste?"
The cookies quickly get passed around.
Vick takes a huge bite, crumbs catching on his shirt. "They're great! But I still like yours better!"
Even Posy pipes up from her perch on Rory's back. "Me too!"
Peeta smiles and ruffles the little girl's hair, "Well thanks."
I can't help but smile too at the kids' enthusiasm; it is rare that they have reason to be this happy.
That's when I catch Gale curiously observing this interaction between his younger siblings and Peeta, who is a stranger to him, but to the kids is a friend who has become a regular part of life. They are so use to having Peeta around that they wouldn't understand why this whole situation is odd for their brother.
As soon as it was dark enough, the firework show began. Bursts of colour explode in the sky and appear to rain down on us. The crowd gasps and a few children give little screams. Fireworks are a novelty that very few here have experienced. The sky lights up again, and even I can't help but be mesmerized. Yet the beauty of the sight is tainted in a way. The boom of the fireworks sounds an awful lot like the boom of the cannons in the arena that signaled a dead tribute. I hope I'm not the only one who notices this. With a few final exceptionally loud cracks the show is done.
The fireworks may have signaled the end of the Capitol arranged festivities, but the celebration in District 12 was far from over. It is our turn to celebrate, in our way. Once the lights have been turned out for the night, our party still continues. Away from the square and all the Capitol's decorations, a fire pit created near the Seam as well as lanterns emit a warm glow.
A couple of fiddlers and flute players strike up a familiar tune, and soon those who gathered clap and stomp in time with the music. If it's one thing we know how to do here in District 12, besides mine coal, it is how to dance. The dancing and the music is one of the few things that connects Town and the Seam, we all know the steps and it seems that any open space can be turned into a dance floor.
There is a mad scramble to find partners and make the two lines that will form the basis for the first dance.
Peeta automatically turns to me, "Come dance with me."
"No thanks."
"Katniss, I won't take no for an answer. It will be fun, trust me." Without waiting for a reply he takes me by the hand and leads me out to dance. I don't put up much resistance, merely roll my eyes and laugh.
He turns me in circles as we bounce along with the other couples, all manoeuvring around one other while keeping to the rhythm of the music, never missing a beat. Though I do not dance much I know the steps off by heart, my feet carrying me without even thinking. I feel silly, but it is a good silly- a joyful silly.
I have to admit it is the most fun I have had, not just today, but in months. When the dance is done, we are out of breath but I feel light and happy and give Peeta a hug to thank him. I don't participate in all the dances, but dance a few with Prim, once with Darius- who somehow snuck away from his duties and changed into civilian clothes- and again with Peeta. He on the other hand never leaves the dance floor, dancing with Delly, Prim, Posy, some of his school friends, and even manages to coax his mother to dance.
Gale and Madge dance too, both looking completely relaxed. At one point during a dance, Gale and I make eye contact and share a smile. In this dance we have to switch partners and I am excited at the prospects of being paired with my friend, if only for a few seconds. I miss judged the number of rounds left unfortunately and the music ends right before we would have been paired together.
Even Haymitch and Effie are there, they do not dance though. What a sight that would have been. Haymitch does actually looks to be enjoying himself as he sways with a bottle in his hand; Effie as usual looks very indifferent, with her constant air of superiority. Eventually she pulls Gale and Madge away early. Neither one looks at all impressed by her direction.
The number of dancers start to drop off as the night grows later and the musicians switch to more soft melodies. The dance floor is empty but folks still sit around, enjoying the music and socializing. It has been such fun that I hate to see it end, but it must. The kids are peacefully asleep on the ground, huddled together by the dwindling fire. Rory and Prim look so young and innocent sleeping there, and I once again find it hard to believe President Snow would willingly want to sacrifice them- or any of us really.
Hazelle leans over and scoops up little Posy, and gently rouses the others. Peeta lifts a still sleeping Vick onto his back and helps to carry him home. Rory and Prim walk sleepily between Peeta and me, dragging their feet on the ground. I hold my little sister's hand securely in mine until we safely are home.
The days following the holiday are uneventful, and a bit of a letdown after all that excitement. The next week however the anticipation builds again leading up to Parcel Day, the first of twelve. The unemployed miners are put to work assisting the Peacekeepers with carrying the heavy bags of grain and cans of oil to all the homes. It seems strange to be receiving these without having to take out a tessera and worrying about my name going into the reaping extra times.
Since each person in the District is to receive their own parcel, there is an official distribution system to ensure everyone is issued only one. There are booths in both the Town and the Seam to keep the people organized, and going to their respective booths. It sort of reminds me of the reaping in a way, except it is not just the teenagers. It is everyone- young and old alike. We stand in line waiting for our turn to be signed in and have our identities validated. They do this to make sure no one tries to take more than their share. No such thing as second helpings. Unlike the reaping, it is not silent or somber but happy, with excited chatter buzzing in the air. Prim is so eager that she is can barely stand still.
When we finally make it to the front of the line I am surprised by the sight of Gale standing with the Peacekeepers next to the truck full of parcels.
I sign in and quickly rush over to him, "What are you doing here?"
He seems almost as surprise to see me, but smiles none the less, "I think it's sort of obvious." He looks around at the piles of durable black bags with the seal of Panem on the front.
I give an awkward little laugh, "Oh right."
"Gale!" Prim squeals.
"Hey there kiddo."
"I didn't know you would be here!" she says.
"Yeah, we asked if we could help out. Madge is at the booth in Town," Gale nods his head in that direction. "Here."
He hands Prim her parcel.
"Thanks!"
"You're welcome." He then hands one to my mother, then finally to me.
I can feel his eyes on me, and can't help but notice he takes his time letting go of the parcel. We share a smile.
"Thank you Gale."
"Any time."
Once that parcel of food is placed in my hands, I nearly sigh in relief and feel like part of the weight on my shoulders has been lifted. For the next year I have to worry a little less about feeding my family. We will still have to be sensible with this food of course in order to make it last the month but we are use to rationing with much less. I can honestly say this is one of the few good things to come out of the Hunger Games, and I have little doubt Gale feels the same way.
"I better not keep you."
"No." He replies with reluctant shake of his head.
With that I go catch up with my mother and Prim and we walk home, past all the hungry but happy kids of the Seam running around showing off and trying their new precious goodies.
Between all the ceremonies and events I don't actually get to see Gale alone at all, beside the few awkward passing remarks. It is these rare interactions that make me miss him the most. When he is off with his responsibilities as a victor I don't mind so much. I still have Peeta and Prim, thankfully that hasn't changed at all. Still it kills me not to be able to really talk to Gale; to have him so close, yet so inaccessible. He might as well be back in the arena for all it matters.
I really have no clue how Gale is holding up. I decide I can't take much more of this not knowing business, so I walk straight to the Hawthorne's- if I can't talk to Gale, Hazelle is the only other person who could help me.
I never knock at their house so I just reach for the doorknob and-
It's locked. That's odd; no one in the Seam ever locks their door. I suppose it's because we don't own anything worth stealing really.
Walking around the outside of the house, I check the back door. It too is locked. I raise my fist and knock cautiously on the door, when there is no immediate answer panic wells up inside me so I knock harder, until my knuckles tingle.
Where could they be?! I had been over to visit them just yesterday with my mother, when we heard Vick had a bad cough. They wouldn't all go out with him sick. Unless he got worse? But even then Hazelle would have called for my mother.
I scan the area around the house while I head back around to the front to see if I can spot them. I press my face to the window peering inside; the glass is cool against my forehead. The interior looks the same as always. The furniture is still in place. We can't afford much here in the Seam so all the houses are sparsely furnished, with only the bare necessities, so the fact that it is all still there comforts me a bit. That still doesn't explain why the door is locked, in the middle of the afternoon.
My eyes then pass by the fireplace. Again something is not right. Not only is there no fire going, but the photo is gone from the mantel. The photo, in a simple hand carved wooden frame, was one of Hazelle's most prized possessions. It was their last family photo, taken not long before the mine explosion that killed Mr. Hawthorne and my father. I've looked at it so many times I have it committed to memory. Gale stands between his parents with a small smile on his face. At almost 14 he was already taller than his mother, soon to catch up to his father's height. He has his hands on Rory's shoulders. Hazelle told me that little Rory would not stop squirming that day, and Gale was the only one who could get him to stop fidgeting long enough to have the picture taken. Vick is propped in his father's left arm grinning from ear to ear; he looked to be no older than Posy is now. And Posy was still nothing more than a bump in her mother's stomach, and sadly would never meet her father.
"Excuse me? Can I help you?" a voice barks behind me. I turn to see one of the Hawthorne's neighbours standing at the bottom on the steps, arms crossed across their chest. Recognition sparks in their eyes.
"Oh Katniss, it's only you."
"Can you tell me what's going on here? Where's Hazelle?"
"Didn't you know?"
Know what?!
When I don't respond they continue, "They've moved the family to the Victor's Village."
That's why the furniture stayed and their personal belongings were gone. The fancy houses in the Victor's Village came fully furnished their old well used pieces wouldn't be acceptable there. Also, the house in the Village is Gale's. If something were to happen, the rest of the family would be required to move back here.
"Already?" I knew this step was coming but I wasn't yet ready for it. Though the Hawthorne's still live in the District, I don't feel as comfortable seeking them out in the Victor's Village.
It is another week or so of nothing. The camera crews and reporters eventually leave, returning to the Capitol, and District 12 is finally able to get back to normal. The mines re-open and school resumes. The power also goes back to its standard patchiness. I am able to begin my usual hunting routine again. Each time I go past the fence, I go hoping Gale will show up. He never does. I even sit and wait at our spot out of habit, hoping this day will be different. I begin to wonder if he hates me or is choosing to forget about me, about his old life before the Games and before he became a victor. Regardless, every day I am left to hunt by myself, feeling more and more foolish for getting my hopes up.
Then one Sunday, more than a month since Gale returned to District 12, right when I was about ready to give up on him all together, he is finally there. This time instead of me sitting waiting for him to appear, he is already at our spot...waiting for me. At first I was confused, wondering who or what was at our spot. I had my bow and arrow at the ready but pointed down, just in case. The second I am close enough and realize it is Gale- who is unmoving just watching me approach- there is nothing that can stop me from running and throwing myself into his arms. My bow and arrow discarded are on the ground.
He holds me tight as I laugh and cry out of joy and relief- to a point where I develop hiccups. I would be perfectly content if he never let me go. Unfortunately he does let me go, but it is worth it to see that smile. It is the old Gale standing before me, my best friend.
I realize the old Katniss would not have reacted this way so I quickly step back, slightly embarrassed by my display.
"Hey Catnip."
Hiccup. "Hey Gale." Hiccup.
My hiccups persist until finally Gale hands me a canteen of water. Once they settle down I ask, "How long have you been waiting here?"
"Since before dawn. I was beginning to think you weren't coming." He thought I wasn't going to show up?!
"I brought breakfast." Gale holds up a pack full of food.
With that we sit down to a feast. And it is indeed a feast, especially compared to what we usually had to eat before hunting. We eat in silence, contently sitting on the rock ledge looking out over the valley, safely hidden from view. I catch myself staring at Gale every once in a while, as if to make sure he is real. I notice that he is wearing his old clothes, not the new ones supplied by the Capitol. Though the clothes are exactly the same as I remember, the same tears and faded areas, there is something different. They actually fit him a bit better now and no longer hang loosely off his body, no doubt thanks to finally being fed properly.
When our stomachs are full, we set off into the woods to hunt, fish and gather as we always did. We fall into our old roles and patterns seamlessly, reading each other's minds and anticipating the other's movements. It feels so good to not be alone anymore, even if we are working in silence. At least we are side by side. I am actually sort of glad we never use to talk while we hunted; it means we are less obligated to talk now. I have so many questions I want to ask him; like how he got an eleven for a training score or why he pulled out those berries for a double suicide or if he actually loves Madge. But those questions will all have to wait. It is obvious Gale doesn't want to talk about his experience in the Games right now and I really don't blame him, nor will I force him to. I promised myself I would try to give him "normal" when he returned and that's what I intend to do.
When we do talk, it is about the past or about the people in District 12, the ordinary every day things, never about the Games or life as it is now. That would require acknowledging the Games, and what it did to us here. I wonder if he even knows about the suspicious mine explosion.
I do notice that Gale twitches a bit more at loud noises in the woods and I see slight flashes of panic in his eyes. He doesn't outright let on why he reacts like this now, just shakes his head and pushes it aside pretending it never happened. I can only assume he does it because of the Games, it's like he can't completely remove himself from them, and hasn't fully left the arena.
We are pretty much done for the day, with a haul that I haven't seen since before the reaping, when I suggest we go and check the traps.
"The traps? You mean you still use them?" Gale sounds shocked.
"Of course. Come on." I reply, and swiftly take off in the direction of the closest snare trap.
I get a great amount of pleasure out of not just seeing that my poorly set trap has indeed caught a rabbit but also Gale's almost comical look of disbelief.
"YOU did this?" Gale says, as he crouches down to inspect the trap and free the dead animal.
I have to suppress a laugh, "Who else would do it... and why are you so surprised?"
"Come on Catnip. No offense, but traps were never your specialty." Nothing could mask the grin on his face.
"Let's just say I got better. I copied yours, no problem." I have a hard time keeping a straight face, and when Gale stares at me again I break. "Okay, truth is there was a lot of trial and error before they started to become even remotely effective."
"Way to go. I'm proud of you. I mean they're not perfect, but hey, you got it."
"It was kind of out of necessity."
As soon as I say this I realize even that simple phrase has connections to the Hunger Games. It meant that because of the Games Gale wasn't here to prepare the traps himself, so I had to learn in order to ensure our families' survival. Even though it had not been intentional, all humour has fled from both of us, and the serious expression has returned to Gale's face.
"I suppose we should be getting back. My mother and Prim will be wondering where I am, and I want to get to the Hob before the vendors are no longer interested in buying game today."
Gale shakes his head again, as if to dispel an arena memory, "Of course. Here let me carry those." He takes the largest game and we head towards the Meadow.
"How is the Hob? Greasy Sae and all them?" Gale eventually asks.
This is my opportunity to make the mood light again. "Same old, same old, Greasy Sae keeps getting more and more creative with the dishes she makes. Some are really good... others not so much." I chuckle. "There was this one that smelled great but tasted awful. Darius and I still ate it though- we didn't want to be rude, you know how touchy she can be sometimes. I think he swallowed a tiny bone or a rock or something."
Gale smiles, "Sounds about right. I'll have to stop by soon, and try some for myself."
I nod, "That would be great. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see you. They all would be."
By this time we have reached the fence, at the hole that is closest to the Hob. I feel lighter for some reason, and certainly the happiest I've been leaving the woods in a long time. Things may just work out after all and get back to the way they were.
"Alright, how do you want to divide the haul?" I ask.
For a few moments all he does it look at me, "It's okay. You go ahead and take it all, I don't really need it now do I?"
"No, but it's only fair. I mean you caught half-"
My sentence is cut short when all of a sudden Gale takes my face in both his hands and kisses me. The soft feel of his lips against mine completely catches me off guard. Yet what surprises me even more is that I don't pull away but move closer, resting my hands on his chest. My mind is blank, no thoughts, no real recollection of what had happened prior to this, and no possible way to imagine what will happen next; I am totally engulfed in this moment. It feels like the kiss lasts an eternity, when really it was no more than a few seconds.
His hands stay in place as his grey eyes look down into mine. I can only manage to stare back for a few seconds before I have to look away for I'm afraid of what I may see. Moreover, I think I'm afraid of what he may see reflected back.
"I had to do that," Gale says to me quietly. Almost sadly he adds, "At least once." He then lets me go, picks up his near empty pack and turns to climb through the fence.
There is only one thought in my head and I somehow find my voice before it is too late, "But in your interview with Caesar you said..."
I can't get the rest out because Gale has turned around at the sound of my voice, and my heart drops when I see that wistful look in his eyes again. As if reading my thoughts he replies, "I never said it was Madge."