Hey all. So here it is, the fifth till last time I will ever post on this story. The next two will be the last chapters, then the epilogue and finally my authors note.
please continue to answer my question!
as always enjoy, and the next chapter will be posted tomorrow!
I took the first move. I didn't mean to, but I did. I was wobbling a bit in my shoe, so I took a step forward to steady myself. That's when the 'lunch', or party as if it really was, started again. Peeta and I were swarmed by a mass of people. Some I recognised, some I didn't. It was Paylor that ordered them to stop harassing us, and they made way for her to come through. For the first time, I admired her. She still looked the same. Her dark hair and eyes still flourished with colour, and it was apparent that she hadn't gone with the Capitol fashion, as she appeared in a tight blazer and skirt. It was natural and formal. It was President looking. It suddenly occurred to me that I had met and jolly well defeated two thirds of all the Presidents since the original Rebellion that took place more than seventy-five years ago.
I took her hand with a smile, and she brought me forward to a small group of people, Peeta being dragged on behind me. "They don't need introducing, just warm welcomes," she instructed the group, and I was very grateful that Paylor had become President. Her rule meant the end of all hardship. I instantly recognised Plutarch, but it took me a couple of seconds to recognise Claudius Templesmith. I'd only met him a couple of times before. I never really thought about what happened to him at first, though he did do the commentary for the news on TV from time to time. I expected he went into some other high standard job after the Hunger Games stopped.
"So, Katniss and Peeta, or should I say...Mr and Mrs Mellark?" Claudius asked slyly. It was weird hearing him say it, Mr and Mrs. Mrs Mellark, I thought to myself, what have you done in your life to deserve that title?
"Whatever you choose Claudius," Peeta answered. Claudius nodded in reply, raising his eyebrows slightly at the idea.
"So, is the Girl on Fire still there?" Plutarch hinted. It took me a while to form my answer, but even then, it wasn't perfect. I wasn't at ease like Peeta was.
"Well-"
"Ha! Girl on fire?! Katniss Mellark has gone soft!" Haymitch rudely interrupted. He'd been lurking behind the group the whole time. He'd just been waiting for his move to jump in. I glared at him. I threw my reply back at him in half a second.
"Well maybe I wouldn't have it if..." Hope hadn't come into my life... I couldn't finish the sentence though, it would have given everything away.
"Ah yes, how is your...baby?" Plutarch asked.
"Daughter," I corrected. I couldn't bare anybody else hesitating over it. It wasn't like it gave everything away, they'd still have to wait for her name. Peeta raised an eyebrow at me, as if he hadn't been expecting it, but he didn't look bothered either way.
The group who stood before me either nodded their heads or smiled slightly. I didn't really understand why, but maybe they were in disbelief. Before things became too awkward, Peeta and I steered ourselves away from the huddle, intent on finding someone easier and outgoing to talk to. I wasn't expecting him to be there, nor for him to be the next person we were to speak to, but he was. He stood there bravely, his arms crossed behind his back. "Tax?"
He waved at me, so I waved back. I sauntered off towards him, completely ignoring Peeta who was being dragged into another conversation. He'd played such a small role in my life, Tax, but he'd always seemed to be something much bigger. Tax wasn't a threat. "Still hunting?" He asked causally as I took a glass of water off the table to my right.
"I haven't hunted in weeks. Not with, you know, the baby," I was more careful this time. His head bowed a little, as if acknowledging what I said. I turned to look at the crowd. I could see everyone now, and it became apparent that there was a good twenty or so people here. "What's your role now?" I asked Tax, keen to know what job was of such high importance, he gained to status to be here.
"I'm head of the guard. I train volunteers in the small chance of another war breaking out. It's a decent job, and well up my street. Yet I'm only here because Paylor permitted it when I begged. I couldn't miss the chance of seeing the Girl on Fire again," he explained.
"I'm not really the Girl on Fire anymore you know. I'm just Katniss Mellark. If anything, I'm the Ex-Girl on Fire according to Haymitch. Apparently I've gone all soft." Tax threw his head back in laughter at this remark, although there really was no emphasis on it.
"No! Katniss Mellark will always be the Girl on Fire, then her daughter will be the Girl of Fire! The actions you did Katniss will always be remembered, whether you like it or not."
"I just hope they're seen in a good way. I'd hate to think that the world hates me because I started the rebellion."
"You lit the fuse many people before you had started to build," he corrected. "Everything you've ever done is seen as goodness. No matter how many lives were lost, the same amount would have been gone if the Hunger Games had continued. Something had to happen soon." I questioned this for a moment, soaking in everything Tax had said to me. It was true. Haymitch had done something which started the rebellion; many people had. It was only the love that bound Peeta and I together that lit the fuse. The bomb exploded when the force field blew up. It was a continuous chain of events that had to happen, I suppose.
Lunch was as all food in the Capitol was, exceptionally good. As I sat there with Peeta, Haymitch and Effie, I felt the loss of Cinna and Portia. It had dawned on me soon after the war ended, that Cinna said he would tell Portia I said goodbye. However, if he was immediately killed after that quick torture I'd witnessed, my message never reached her. Maybe it did. After all, the Victors had been tortured, not killed. Maybe they were in cells near each other, and my message was one of the last things Portia ever got to hear of me. Peeta's stylists and Portia had been executed in public, but Cinna was never mentioned. He would have been taken away for a private execution, since everyone who agreed with Cinna's dress idea would have been outraged, and a war might have started within the Capitol. All these things were questions I never got the chance to find out the answer to.
So the note I found when I got back took me by surprise. It was addressed to me, and my name curled in Cinna's handwriting. I didn't dare read it, not yet anyway. I put the slip of paper to one side, and hugged Peeta tightly. Hope slowly stirred as we sat there, and soon all three Mellarks were staring at each other in silence.
My prep team came all too soon, and demanded my attendance. I complied, not wanting to argue back. I'd agreed to it, after all. It suddenly dawned on me that Peeta had almost never been prepped by my team until today. It wasn't like he needed much. Now the games were over, it seemed the men were the ones who could go with their natural look. Women had to be plastered in different colour eyeshadows and lipsticks.
I watched Peeta entertain Hope while I was getting prepped, and by the time I was ready, it was near five o'clock. So late, Hope was demanding food within five minutes of Peeta and I swapping. I looked at him, and he was rolling his eyes towards the bathroom. I fed her there. I sat myself on a laid out purple towel, which had little threads which supplied something for me to fiddle with.
Half and hour before six, Hope was asleep and the Prep team had disappeared to get our outfits. "What shall we do?" I asked aloud, even though it was only Peeta there to answer. He shrugged at first, but after a few moments, he extended his answer.
"Tell them the truth. We can only be ourselves now. We don't have to pretend anything." I turned to smile as him and stroked his cheek. It was true. There was no need to pretend now. I was in love with Peeta, and nothing would ever change that. I leant in for a kiss and our lips met for a second, but we were interrupted by Octavia bursting into the room.
"We've got them!" She was shortly followed by everyone else, including my mother. We each took turns getting dressed, me having to go last. I knew there was a clue when Peeta appeared wearing a crispy green shirt and jacket. Even more when Flavius handed me a light pink onesie for Hope. When my turn came, I thought I knew what to expect, but I didn't. The dress wasn't just a basic green, it was the grass. The pink were flowers, and the shimmery gold the sunshine. It was beautiful. I stared at myself in the mirror in front of my Prep team, who were clearly waiting for my reaction.
"What happened to the Girl on Fire?" I questioned, frowning.
"Oh she'll be back tomorrow!" Venia blurted out, but then she smacked her hand against her mouth as if she wasn't meant to say that, but Flavius quickly moved on.
"It's meant to represent the end of suffering. The flowers are to show everything that's grown since the end of the war and the Hunger Games. The Girl on Fire has blossomed..."
"So what do you think?" Octavia eagerly asked.
"It's amazing."
Peeta and my mother were surprised as well. They gaped at its beauty. The dress really was a success with everyone.
The descending lift became my problem. Hope was in my arms, as it was always agreed. Peeta and I held hands, which was more of a natural instinct. My mother didn't come. She went with the Prep Team to the other side to watch the big screen. We were alone.
The doors rolled into the sides, and my first reaction was that there were too many people there, but there wasn't. Some of the Capitol officials had gathered, but I eyed Johanna who was standing forward and in the centre. Her hair was in waves, and she was wearing a luminous wave colour. It reminded me of District 4. She held a pearl necklace on her neck, that shone in a way that looked like it was waves.
She was the first to notice our presence, the corridor being so full of chatter, and smirked at us wildly. "Glad to see you three!" That caught everyone's attention, and the whole room seemed to stare at us, or Hope to be precise. Not one head didn't try to peek a look at her as we walked past. The whole corridor was silent as Peeta's and my shoes hit the floor. We didn't stop until we reached Johanna.
"We're not late, your just early," I pointed out, trying to soften the situation. It didn't work, as I should I known it wouldn't. Our fame was sometimes frustrating in the Capitol, and it was almost too common, but I reminded myself that once this is over with, the Capitol weren't allowed to bother us for another thirteen years or so.
"A girl born of fire," Plutarch voiced, repeating what Tax had told me earlier. He walked towards us as the crowd began to talk again, getting over the initial shock.
"A girl born of beauty," Peeta replied back. Plutarch reached us, and stood directly in front of me to look at Hope. Her eyes were open, revealing her inheritance of Peeta's eyes to him. As a new face, Hope studied him, shaking her head in odd directions.
"A girl born of hope," Plutarch whispered. I smiled. At least people would understand easily the meaning behind her name. At least there was hope, I thought, it's the only thing keeping the world going.