A/N: This chapter was fun to type. There's still rocky roads in the future since things can't stay good for long in this world, but I thought Mags deserved more happy moments for now. Thanks to those who reviewed and I hope you like it! And whoa this chapter is longer than I meant to type it.
The lavish ballroom of the president's mansion is no unfamiliar place to me. My first trip here was eight years ago, right after I became a victor. Since then, I've returned every year to see each new victor crowned. I've grown used to the elaborate room, but this visit is different. This is the first time I've ever been alone in the giant room.
My footsteps echo eerily as I make my way toward the grand staircase that leads to the president's office. Every time I've attended a party here, the room has been full of dancing people talking so loud I can barely hear my own voice. I hear two other sets of footsteps echo and I remind myself that I'm technically not alone. For whatever reason, peacekeepers have been escorting me everywhere as if I am some sort of criminal.
They come to an abrupt stop at the staircase. I glance around unsurely but continue up, conscious of each step. I wish the new president could meet with all of us victors as a group. Instead, he made it very clear that each of us are to meet him individually.
I've barely knocked on the office door when it swings open. The first thing that hits me is the smell. There's some kind of sickly sweet perfume in the air that I know wasn't there the last time I came in this room.
"Please, come in," a voice tells me, and for the first time, I get a good look at President Snow.
The simplest way to put it is that he looks like a kid. He's about eighteen, barely old enough to be considered an adult, and he looks young at that. The boy in front of me doesn't seem particularly muscular or strong. He isn't much taller than me, and he is skinny and bony to the point of looking frail. How strange for someone who grew up surrounded by food in the Capitol. His blonde hair is almost as light as his pale skin. Somebody like him wouldn't last long in the Hunger Games against the stronger teens. It makes me wonder how someone so young and fragile looking managed to gain the highest title of power in Panem.
I quickly pinpoint the source of the too-sweet scent to be a small white rose on the lapel of his suit. No normal roses smell that strongly.
"I thought it would be best for me to talk with all the victors, since we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the years to come," he says as he takes a seat behind his massive desk. His voice sounds soft but intelligent. I'm not exactly sure what to say, so I just nod.
I can't wrap my mind around how the smell from that one little rose is so strong. I've been really sensitive to smells lately, as I've discovered it's one of the triggers to the morning sickness. I try to focus on breathing calmly through my mouth because I can't take the scent.
A few awkward moments of silence pass. What am I supposed to say? I don't even know why I'm here. Snow finally speaks up as he starts fiddling with a pen on the desk. "You know, I remember watching your Games. You got a lot of pity sponsors that year. Going in with your cousin, the headstrong volunteer. People eat that kind of stuff up. It made for interesting television." He looks up to take in my expression. I still don't know how I'm supposed to reply to that. Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.
"I'm sure it did," I finally say. It's not saying much, but at least it will show that I'm not ignoring him. I don't want to come across as disrespectful.
"Since then, you've been an interesting one, haven't you? Comparatively, of course," he says, smiling as if remembering some inside joke, though I can't say I understand. I focus on my breathing as he pulls out a file with my name on it and browses through it, holding it to where I can't see.
"You value your privacy. I can tell you've tried to keep your way out of the spotlight. Not the easiest thing to do when you are in a relationship with another victor…hmm," he trails off, flipping through some pages. "You like being secretive, don't you?" he asks. His smile is unnerving.
"I just don't like the spotlight," I say nervously. His words instantly make me rethink everything I've done. I didn't think I broke any rules. My heart rate picks up as the fear creeps in.
"Don't worry," he says with a small laugh. He suddenly seems a lot older than eighteen. "I understand some secrets are for the best. It only concerns me when it could threaten the country. Being secretive with talk of rebellion, now that's dangerous. But you wouldn't do that, would you Mags?"
"Of course not," I answer immediately. It doesn't matter what deep dark opinions I have on the government. This is what he wants to hear; what he needs to hear.
"I would hope so…hmm, interesting," he says, still flipping through the file. "There's been a few little passing comments recorded here in the Capitol that have concerned me. I'm going to trust that this is nothing I'll have to worry about in the future," he says, staring in my direction. I notice how icy and piercing his eyes are. Behind his soft spoken words is a harsh command. I want to panic because this means I have made mistakes without realizing it. Whispered words spoken when I thought no one could hear…have those all been heard and filed to be used against me? If I agree, does that mean I get a fresh start? Oh, I really hope so.
"You won't have any problems from me," I say, trying to make my voice sound confident and convincing. It comes out sounding almost pleading, which, honestly, I guess it is. I know he can see the fear in my expression.
Now I'm starting to understand how Snow got in the political field. He doesn't look so helpless and frail now that I'm aware how easily he could ruin my life. Also, the way he speaks sounds very mature for his age, so unlike the bubbly Capitol voices I've grown accustomed to. I can't help but feel that I'm talking to someone much smarter than I am.
"Good, good. I can assure you that's for the best. Revolution and equality sounds good in theory, but history has shown it doesn't work out too well. Do you know anything about history, Mags?"
I shift in my chair. "You mean before the Dark Days?" I ask for clarification.
Snow shakes his head. "I mean before Panem."
They never told us about old history in school. Most of what I know comes from the speech Isidora gives at the reaping each year. "It used to be a place called North America. There were a lot of natural disasters and wars. It collapsed and Panem took over," I say.
The president gets up and walks to a bookcase on the side of the room. He grabs something and comes back to lay it across the desk. It's a map. "I was lucky enough to study ancient history. What they don't tell you is that the people destroyed the government. They called it a representative democracy. The idea was that the people had the power to decide what happens in the government. Sounds nice, doesn't it?" he asks.
I study the map carefully. It looks like Panem, but there are differences. The land mass is bigger, less rounded. There are lines dividing it into what looks like many, many districts.
Before I've answered his question, Snow speaks up again. "It doesn't work. You can't make everyone happy, and no one is content with what they have. Humans are greedy by nature. That's how wars break out. A nation can't exist where there is no control. Give them a taste of power and they'll tear down the whole system."
I try to visualize that. People arguing, wars starting. A government is ashes just like District Thirteen. I don't want to admit to myself that he might be right. That would feel like I'm throwing everything I stand for down the drain, even if I only hope for it in silence. Wait, that's the point of all of this. How can I be sure if that really happened in the past? For all I know, he could be making it up to sway my opinion. I still believe there has to be a better system than what we have now.
For now, it's important to be on board with whatever he says. "I never thought about it that way. You're right. There's no way everyone in Panem could agree if they had power," I say.
"I'm glad you see it my way," he tells me as he pats my hand, leaving goose bumps where his skin touches mine. "You see, it's important that things stay as they are. The districts are a little scared right now with all the unexpected deaths. Fear is good because it keeps control, but it's a fine balance. Too much fear might make some people have dangerous ideas. There always has to be a dash of hope. Don't worry, we're getting everything under control so nothing will happen. It's important you victors are on our side, as you know."
"I understand," I say with a nod. I inadvertently let myself get a big whiff of the rose smell, and the nauseous feeling is back full force. Please let this be almost over.
"You don't look like you feel so well. We've discussed everything that needs to be said. Go get some fresh air," he says.
"Thank you," I say quickly, making an escape to the door.
I'm walking out when Snow says, "Oh, and congratulations by the way. You must be so excited about the new addition."
After our conversation, there's no reason this should surprise me. Still, I can't help freezing in place and racking my brain to figure out how exactly he found out. There's only two people who know I'm pregnant: my doctor and Alec. I haven't said one word about it since we left District Four.
I look back at the president. "How did you know?" I ask before I can contemplate whether it is a good idea.
"You don't think I leave the districts unattended, do you? I have ways of finding things out, Mags. Keep that in mind." He looks at me with those icy eyes, and one word in particular comes to mind. Snake.
Nothing's going to get better. This new president feeds off of threats just like Burns did. If anything, he's more direct about it. I knew I wasn't safe in the Capitol, but now I have to accept the fact that I'm not safe in my own district. Maybe not even in my own house.
The peacekeepers are there to escort me back to the hotel as soon as I leave the office. Alec and Kallan, who both went visit the president earlier today, are there and are talking about something when I get back. Our room is really more of a suite designed after the Training Center. There's a living area and a bunch of small bedrooms meant to house several victors for the district. I realize that's what Kallan is talking about.
"I'm telling you, give it a few years and these rooms will be filled. Now the kids who started at the career school five years ago are almost old enough to volunteer. We were so close last year…" he says as he paces around the sofa. He's matured a little, but he still lives and breathes Hunger Games.
Alec is sitting on the sofa, and he pats the spot next to him for me to join when he sees me come in.
"How'd it go?" he asks.
"Fine." I don't want to go into the specifics. The only sure way to not make a mistake and say something wrong is to not speak at all.
"Oh, you'd better prepare yourself for prep work because we're going on TV later tonight," Kallan adds.
"Yeah, we got this paper," Alec says as he pulls something out his pocket and unfolds it. I look over it and see that it's a list of things to say and not to say during the broadcast. To put it simply, be happy and make the people happy. After all, all we are is the Capitol's personal promotional actors.
That's how the next few weeks go. We all notice that we're being kept on a tight leash since we have to be escorted everywhere and we can't leave on our own. However, they try to disguise it by bringing us all out to group activities. One night it's a dinner. Another night is another TV appearance followed by a party.
In twenty years of Hunger Games, there are eighteen victors. I remember one from Ten died the year after I won, and apparently there was another accident recently. I'm doubtful that there's even such a thing as accidents anymore. I don't voice my thoughts, but in the back of my mind lies the realization that victors don't have to be protected. Some have slipped up and have been punished in different ways, mostly involving their loved ones, so it makes me wonder what a victor would have to do to get themselves killed off. I don't think I want to ever find out.
By the time we get back to District Four, three weeks have passed. Whatever problems were going on in the districts must have been taken care of. The only difference I notice when we get back is that there are more peacekeepers than usual and a more rigid fishing schedule.
"I'm so glad to be back home. Maybe we can finally get a while to relax before we start telling everyone the news," I tell Alec as he unlocks the door to our house.
He opens the door slightly and says, "Might want to wait a little while for the relaxation thing."
"What?" I ask, peeking in. The house is much messier than we left it. I know this for a fact because I usually work hard to keep the house clean. There's stuff thrown all over the floor and dishes in the sink. Then there are the two sources of the mess: my cousins. Marilla is laying across the sofa and Hallie is sitting at the kitchen table snacking on bread.
Some things never change.
"Geez, thanks for making yourselves at home!" I say sarcastically.
"We didn't know how long you'd be gone, so we thought your house could use some house sitting," Marilla answers from the sofa. "You know, you really should've thought about this before you gave us the spare keys."
"Sorry, Mags. We were going to clean up before you got home. We thought it would be cool to live on our own for a few days because we're going to get our own place in a few months after I graduate," Hallie adds. She's come a long way from the ten year old little girl I knew when I was reaped. Her and Marilla look almost identical, but she seems softer and more girly than her sister.
"I guess there's no harm done," I sigh.
"There's worse things in life than a dirty house," Alec says. "Besides, it's something you'll have to get used to in the next few years." Marilla and Hallie look at us in confusion. "Now is as good a time as ever, don't you think?" he asks me.
"Yeah. Might as well," I say. "There's something we want to tell you," I say to the girls, only to notice Alec has taken a seat next to Marilla on the sofa. "I said we," I remind him.
"They're your cousins. I think they would want to hear it from you," he says smugly. I'm sure he knows that if only I say it, Marilla will jump all over it with her little comments that he finds so funny. Well played.
"Okay, fine. You get a pass this one time," I allow. "Well anyway, what I wanted to tell you guys is.." I pause because I'm suddenly thinking about how Snow knew already. Could the house be bugged? I look up at the ceiling for any wires I might have magically missed seeing over the years. What if everything I've ever said in this house has been recorded? Some of those things were really personal, and I would feel extremely violated if that's true. Well, they've never brought up anything I've said before.
"Are you going to finish or are you just going to stare at the ceiling?" Marilla asks, crossing her arms, and Hallie and Alec laugh.
"Shut up before you ruin the moment," I tell her.
"I'm saving the moment! You're the one looking up at nothing," she insists.
I shake my head and then continue. "I'm -no, we're- having a baby," I say, grateful that the words came out smoother than they did when I told Alec.
"Awww!" Hallie squeals and runs over to hug me.
"Nothing to say, Marilla?" I ask, genuinely surprised she hasn't burst out with some comment yet.
"Oh, I've been waiting for this. So many things to embarrass you with…you just wait," she smiles. "But, um, congratulations," she adds.
We tell the others within the next few days, and after that, we go straight into making preparations. There's so much to do and I'm so excited. One of the guest bedrooms is transformed into a nursery and my aunt drops off a big box of baby clothes. A lot of them are girl's clothes, but there are some boy outfits that used to be for Kai.
I always thought that expecting mothers would have some sort of gut feeling on the gender of the baby. I've been having long vivid dreams, featuring a baby girl some nights and a boy others. It's a fifty-fifty toss up.
I start getting noticeably bigger around the six month point. The bigger the bump gets, the less I find myself going out around the district. I'm grateful that we work out a deal with Kallan so I can take a year off from mentoring. Eventually, I take to wearing Alec's clothes because they are big enough on me that they go over my belly without squeezing it.
Right now, I sit in a recliner we moved over from the living room and rest a hand on my stomach, eager to feel the next little movement.
"Alec, have you thought about any ideas for names?" I ask. He's moving furniture around, and I feel kind of bad about sitting here doing nothing, not that I would be able to help much.
He's breathing a little heavy from exhaustion when he answers. "I tried but I couldn't think of much. All I came up with was my dad's name."
"What was his name again?" I ask. It would be nice to have some connection to Alec's family.
"Kyle," he answers.
"Kyle," I say, testing the name out. "I like it. It's nice and simple."
"Did you have any ideas?" Alec asks.
I feel a little nudge inside of me and I rest my hand there as I answer. "Well there was a book I read a long time ago where the main character's name was Destin, and it stuck with me. It was a boy in the book but I think the name works for a girl too. I was even thinking it could be spelled with an 'a' or an 'o' instead of an 'i' for a boy."
"It sounds like you've thought about it a lot," Alec notes.
"Yeah, I guess I have. I'm leaning towards Destin Lana for a girl. I was considering the different spelling for a boy, but I like the name Kyle too so I don't know."
"You can always go with Destan Kyle," he says.
I nod. "Or Kyle Destan."
I play around with different names and variations in my head over the next couple months. The closer I get to the due date, the more anxious I get. I learn there's a difference between being pregnant and very pregnant. 'Pregnant' isn't all that bad once you get past the morning sickness stage. It's new and different and exciting to track the changes week by week.
'Very pregnant' is a completely different story. I feel uncomfortable and it's a struggle to accomplish even the easiest tasks, such as pulling myself out of bed. The bigger I get, the more pressure I feel on my back and in my feet. I'm so beyond ready to have the baby out of me and in my arms.
I'm so ready, yet I'm absolutely terrified when I feel the first few contractions. They come while I'm walking to the bedroom around 11:30 at night. The tightening feeling is so sharp and so sudden that I instinctively double over and lean against the wall. I've been waiting for this moment for weeks and now I'm scared because I know the pain is only going to get worse.
"Alec, help!" I call out.
He's there in an instant. "What's wrong? Is the baby coming?" he asks, looking way more scared than I feel.
"Yeah. It's definitely time," I tell him. He steadies me and slowly walks me over to one of the other bedrooms, which is difficult when you feel as big as a house. I feel another contraction, this time tighter than the last, and I grit my teeth in pain.
I'm barely aware that Alec's on the phone. I try to focus in just enough to hear that he's calling the doctor. It takes me a full minute to realize that since he's using the phone, he has to be calling the clinic. The apothecary woman who has been checking up on me doesn't have a phone.
"No, you have the wrong doctor!" I say, louder than I intended.
"You think I'm going to leave you here to go knock at the other woman's door? Not a good idea, Mags."
His words make sense, but I'm in pain and scared and all I can think is that I don't trust the people from the clinic. They have way too many connections to the Capitol.
"I. Want. The. Other. Doctor." I struggle to keep my voice level.
"How am I supposed to-"
"I don't know! Please just do it!" Another contraction.
Alec paces around the room and finally picks up the phone and calls my parents. My mother arrives within minutes along with the rest of my extended family, and my father comes a little later with the nurse.
The nurse kicks the others out of the room and inspects me, only to say it could be several more hours until I'm ready for delivery. She drapes the blanket back over me and goes downstairs to fix some kind of herbal tonic to help ease the pain.
The bedroom turns into a visiting area again. I'm glad they are here to support me, but I'm really not in the best of moods right now. I don't feel like being talked to or touched. Hallie lays on the bed, pressed up against my shoulder, and my mother smoothes back my hair.
"I know it hurts. It's going to be so worth it though," my mother tells me.
"I just want it to end. Hurt doesn't even begin to describe it," I respond weakly.
"Listen, Mags. You're strong enough. This is a natural part of life. You've survived through much worse," she reminds me.
It's true. I have. The difference is this is a different kind of pain. Emotional pain is horrible, and I'm no stranger to the way it can eat away at you. I've overcome a lot, but it's done nothing to prepare me for this physical pain.
The next several hours are excruciating. The herbs don't do much because they are nothing compared to Capitol medicine. It feels like someone is scooping together my insides and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until it should be impossible to get any tighter. But it does. By the time dawn breaks through the window, I have beads of sweat on my forehead and I feel like crying. I've been gripping Alec's hand so hard that I'm afraid my nails are leaving marks in his skin. I feel even worse after I unthinkingly scream at Marilla for some harmless joke.
Let it end, let it end.
Eventually, it does. After I'm declared ready, everyone besides my husband are shooed out of the room. The contractions come to a climax in the greatest pain I have ever experienced, but then it is suddenly over, and I feel suddenly empty. A cry pierces into the room. My child's cry.
I'm almost too exhausted to move, but I pull myself up and desperately try to get a glimpse of my baby.
The nurse looks over to me and smiles. "Congratulations. It's a boy."
The world is quiet. There's no room for sounds here. Nothing can distract from this peace. As the nurse sets my son into my arms, I am in too much of a hushed awe to speak. This is perfection. Has there ever been another meaning of the word?
His eyes look around hurriedly, trying to make sense of this strange place he has arrived in. Then he looks at me with eyes the usual hazy gray color of newborns, and his cries begin to taper off. Little does he know he has no reason to cry because I will keep him safe. Always. He's mine and I love him and nothing else matters. I run my fingers through the soft brown down of hair on his little head and count each little digit on his hands and toes. His body is so tiny and fragile, but I know I won't hurt him. I hug him close and kiss his head.
After all those painful hours of labor, it's now I cry. It's the good kind of crying, though. Silent tears run down my cheeks because there is too much emotion to keep in.
I look to Alec, who is just inches away. "He's perfect," I whisper.
"Just like his mother. Look, he even looks like you," he says.
It's really too early to tell who he looks like because his face is still flushed from the womb, but his words make me smile nonetheless.
"What's his name?" the nurse asks from across the room.
I look at Alec and nod to let him know he can tell her. My attention snaps back to the little person in my arms. I watch him as yawns.
"Destan. His full name is Destan Kyle Calder," Alec tells the woman.
"How sweet. I'll give the three of you some time alone. Take as long as you need," she says.
Our first moments alone as a family. I want to lock this moment away and remember it forever. I start noting things just like I did on my wedding day. I can hear the chirping of seagulls outside the window. The room is warm and Alec's hand on my arm is cool. My son's eyelashes flutter as he goes to sleep. I feel the subtle flex of his little fingers as he moves his hand. My heart feels swollen with emotion.
The world is still quiet, and I won't complain if it stays this way forever. I have everything I need right here.
This is the only thing that matters.
As you can probably tell if you've read this far, I like writing cutesy things. Thoughts or predictions? :)
