I do not own The Hunger Games
Chapter 26: Epilogue-One month later-
Marus Aurelius's POV
Boggs and I are outdoors, watching the recruits train: Peeta looks good, strong and able-bodied. We watch the Mockingjay watch Peeta with a mixture of awe, grief and distrust on her face.
"Do you think she'll fight him?" I ask. Peeta is still too unstable to fight the hijacking well enough for whatever Alma Coin has planned.
"No way." Boggs shakes his head. "She loves him. She may look like she wants to kill him, but she won't do it."
I laugh. "I've seen the way Emeli is with you – Are you saying she wouldn't hurt you if I gave her the chance?"
"Hurt, yes. Kill? No." Boggs laughs and then quiets. "Marus, it's going to be bad. If you are telling me that the boy is too unstable to control himself, then I will have to protect them both. If Soldier Hawthorne gets there first, Peeta will be dead for sure.
I do not answer, my eyes trained elsewhere on the field. Boggs follows my eyes past the training soldiers. "That's Commander Paylor."
"Who?" I feign. I already know the basic specs on the woman who stands across the field.
Boggs smacks me in the shoulder. "Don't give me that; I've known you my whole life. That's the look you get when you see something you especially want and you won't give up until you have it. You want inside information? OK. She's a great shot. Lost an entire hospital – friends, family, soldiers – and she hasn't lost her mind yet. I know plenty of men who would have started wetting the bed and sucking their thumb after that." He stops and gathers his thoughts. "She knew immediately how to play it with Alma – she does as she is told, keeps quiet. You mark my words, she is hiding a steel spine. She's smarter than I am, too. Now that I think of it, she might be the perfect match for you – smart and stubborn."
We laugh.
His smile fades. "Marus, I'm serious. If you decide to try for it, give yourself a chance. Don't over-think it. You could use a good woman who keeps you in line."
Dreams of Brinna have kept me up half the night and I am in a horrible mood. The next morning, Vixen's questioning is relentless. "You love her, right? It wasn't just an act?" She asks me this question at least once a day.
I rub the bridge of my nose, "It's complicated, Vixen."
"No, it's not. You've convinced Steev to disarm sixty percent of the nukes. Most of District 13 is now ready to participate in reparations. I would think that would be the job of the delegate from this District, but it's been you who have pushed for those things. I don't think you would be doing those things if you didn't care about her."
"Those things are required for District 13's safety."
"I think you're trying to prove you're worthy of her. I think you are still on her side." Vixen's gaze is frankly assessing.
"Vix, will you leave him alone? We're going to go train." Kreg is impatient, as always. Vixen asked him to come to 13 shortly after our arrival. I still cannot fathom why – the two of them obviously do not get along. What was more surprising was that he came when she asked. The only hypothesis that presents itself is that Vixen brought him here as an additional reason for Brinna, Boron and Lilyah to leave District 13 in peace. Why would she want to help me?
We are almost to the door when her voice stops me. "What if I said I could clear you? You wouldn't be a fugitive anymore. You could be together."
Kreg and I continue on our way but her words haunt me.
Brinna Paylor's POV
I stare at the file in front of me, my stomach roiling. I know the contents will give me the answers I desperately need and put to rest all of the questions I have about Marus's involvement. He's gone, Brinna. Dead. Knowing the truth won't change that either way. And if he was innocent…I am not sure I can live with myself knowing that I brought about his death through my inaction.
I close my eyes and grip the primrose mockingjay medallion tighter: I've worn it every day since he was killed. He would not have been imprisoned if you had stood up for him. He would be beside you, where he belongs instead of killed during an escape attempt. These thoughts have been in my head ceaselessly since the day Lilyah told me that he was gone. They keep me awake at night, keep me from eating, keep me from feeling anything but pain. I battle back the sobs. If I give in to one, I know that I will be lost.
I cannot afford to fall apart again with an emergency delegate meeting this afternoon to decide how to hold new elections for the open positions created by the findings of the investigation. The guilty parties are being held pending an evidentiary hearing and the new government of Panem must go on, as must I.
I rub the pendant again and close my eyes, thinking of how I want to be remembered someday. I do not want it to be as the killer of innocent men, or as the tragic President who lost her way when faced with loss. What does my Presidency bring that Snow's did not? What makes me better than Snow or Coin? What do I have to offer my citizens? My government is made up of elected delegates with so little power that they plot to kill in order to obtain more.
My eyes snap open with a crazy idea. If it works, it will stop the attempts on my life and give us a reprieve so that we can build something out of the smoldering rubble that is Panem.
If it doesn't work, I am dead. I am dead inside either way.
I scribble some thoughts onto paper in a burst of energy. I scratch at the now almost invisible scar on my neck when I stop to gather my thoughts. I straighten the jacket of my blue suit. Touching the pendant one last time, I silently ask Marus to send me luck.
I pass Lilyah in the hallway and she tries to intercept me. We have not spoken much since Kreg left for his home District. Marus was killed that same night and I think we both have to grieve in our own way. I would like to bridge that gap with her, but today is not the time. I wave her off.
I am purposefully the last to arrive to the delegate meeting. I notice that Plutarch has cameras covering the event, despite the meeting being considered closed to the public. Good, I think. Surprise may help me gain support for the idea I am about to put to a vote.
I stand at the table, pour myself a glass of water to let the noise around me quiet. I begin, "Before we get to the issue of replacing our delegates, I have something to say. Months ago, I was voted in as President of Panem. That vote occurred, not by a popular vote of the people, but by a hasty vote of those powerful in the rebellion. I have done the best job I know how to lay the foundation for a stronger nation full of hope for us all.
"Several attempts have been made on my life. I have come to believe that they neither occurred because of the work we are doing, nor my own personal beliefs but because of the fight for power itself. Perhaps those perpetrators were driven by fear of another tyrant, or just the uncertainty brought about by a new ruler with absolute power. Perhaps they wanted power that was theirs, but stripped from them. Perhaps they wanted power for the first time. Regardless of the rationale, I believe that we cannot be a strong nation and get down to the real work that needs to be done until we are past this struggle. We must work together to build the dream of a new nation, work together to overcome our losses, work together to triumph in a place where tomorrow means possibilities.
"To that end, I ask the delegates today to vote on a measure. This measure will put a limit on my presidential term: I will be president for seven years. Seven years is long enough for a man or woman to make an impact. It is not quite long enough for irreparable damage to be done to us all by one leader with totalitarian power.
"At the end of the seventh year, another vote will be held to determine my successor. That successor will lead for another seven years and so on. It is through this mechanism that the government of Panem will become a government for all people; one where we can all have a say and make a difference. As we move forward with a fresh start, let us consider that the future is wide open before us and we each are called to build the best one imaginable. Thank you." I barely take my seat before the onslaught of questions start.
Plutarch looks oddly pleased, like this is so much more than he could hope for in a propos. The delegates from the Districts mostly look shell-shocked. Several look intensely thoughtful. The questions are more energetic than they have been in months.
For the first time in a long time, I am full of hope.