AN: Well I got into my groove and this one just fell into place pretty quickly as I wrote it. Next chapter is still very roughly written so it will probably be a bit before it's up!
Warning: There are some darker themes in this one. There's nothing graphic, but I just want to cover my butt so you don't read it if you aren't comfortable. If you have any concerns/questions, please PM me before you read and I will get back to you.
Part 36- A Phone Call
"Camellia?"
I turn to see Peacekeeper Collins hurrying across the village square towards me, his crisp white uniform gleaming on the sunny spring day. It's nearly suppertime and I was just making my way home from working with Juni.
"Peackeeper Collins," I say in surprise, "is everything okay?"
"Letter for you from the Capitol." He says holding out the fine, white envelope.
"Really?" I question.
Mail is practically unheard of in the districts where people simply call on one another if they have something they need to say. The last time I received any mail was when Snow asked me to sing at the Victory tour. I cringe and hope this letter isn't from him.
"Well, I didn't write it for you myself, and clearly there's a letter in my hand." The stern man says, waving the paper in my face for me to take.
"Of course. Thank you." I say, taking the letter from him with a hesitant smile. "How are you, Peacekeeper Collins?"
He eyes me skeptically, "I've been better."
"Is everything alright?"
"Obviously not." He snaps then sighs when he notices my flinch. "There's a lot of pressure coming from the Capitol lately. That's all you need to know."
I smile at his bristling in spite of myself. I'm nearly certain he's much softer than he lets on, "Well I hope the pressure eases up soon so you might find some relief, then."
I turn to move on my way and leave Peacekeeper Collins to his work.
"Camellia," he calls again and I turn, "Are you well? I haven't had time to speak to you since you returned to the district."
I smile and nod, "I am. I'm very well, sir, thank you."
"That Carson boy is treating you kindly?" He asks gruffly, dropping his gaze in discomfort.
"He is." I chuckle, "I didn't realize you took such an interest in my life."
"I don't." He denies firmly, "I like to keep tabs on all of the citizens in my district."
"I see." I nod slowly, trying to hide my knowing smile.
"Maybe I do keep a special eye out for the ones with spirit about them." He admits begrudgingly, though I swear I detect the tug of a smile on his lips.
"Well, I thank you for that." I say, "I'll leave you to your work, Peacekeeper Collins. Thank you for the letter."
He gives a curt nod, "Only doing my job."
"Of course." I smile and give a small wave before continuing on my way across the square.
I wait until I get dinner into the oven to start cooking before ripping open the letter. The handwriting on the front is vaguely familiar, though I can't imagine who from the Capitol would be writing. Everyone had dropped me instantly when they received word about my burns, almost as though I had disappeared in the flames, and I haven't heard from the Capitol since.
Nervously, I unfold the paper inside and see that it's from Urela. I smile at the sight of her signature down at the bottom of the page. I haven't heard from her since my last day in the hospital. A small nagging feeling pulls at the back of my mind and I realize I'm worried about hearing from her now. Her contract should be ending soon and she should be returning home, something I know she was terrified of.
Camellia,
I hope this letter finds you well. I'm sorry I didn't write you before now, but I figure you know me, and so you know I'm not one for letter writing. Even if I wanted to, my hand shakes something awful whenever I try to form legible words.
I've decided what I want to do with my future and I needed to someone to know the truth of it since I'm sure the Capitol bastards will change the story on the news shows. They'll want to make it sound like an accident, I'm sure. I want to spare my family the real story since I know they'll fair better with a lie. The only other person in my life that I feel deserves any explanation is you.
I know you're probably hoping that this letter will say I'm going home to my family. I assume that you've managed to reintegrate back home. I'm so proud of you and I never really had any doubts that you would be strong enough to do it. I'm not like you though, Camellia, and I can't bring myself to look at my siblings again after everything the Capitol has said about me and my life here.
Tomorrow I'm going to steal an automobile and drive to the canal in the middle of the city where we took our first walk together. You once said the water would drag me under and drown me and I hope that, as usual, you're correct. I've thought a lot about it and I think it won't be such an awful way to die. I've never gotten to swim before and I think that the end will come pretty peacefully.
I'm sorry I couldn't be as strong as you, Camellia. I'm sorry I had to write this to you but I couldn't stand the thought of no one ever knowing the truth of the matter. I hope that you aren't too upset for me because I'm not. This is the best answer. Please know that you were a source of happiness in my life for the short time we were together in the Capitol and there is nothing you could have done to prevent this.
All my love,
Urela
At some point I had sunken down to the floor, my back against the cabinets.
"Oh, Urela." I whisper, my words muffled by the hand I had clasped over my mouth in shock as I read the shaky scrawl of my only friend in the Capitol.
"Oh, what have you done?" I ask no one, my breath ragged as I read her words again, hoping that there was something I missed- some joke that she had hidden between the lies- because this can't be real. There's nothing there though, only her final words to me.
I stumble to the television set, fumbling to plug it in and switch to the news channel before falling into a cross-legged heap only inches from the screen.
The bold, white words 'Breaking News' are placed over a red banner flashing at the top of the screen. An aerial view of the canal that cuts through the Capitol runs in the background and an announcer is speaking in an annoyingly airy and excited voice.
The door opens and I realize it must be Rowan arriving for dinner but I can't pull my eyes from the screen where a picture of Urela from her most recent film premier is overlaid in the corner of the clip.
"… at two-thirty, yesterday morning, May 18th, the body of the highly acclaimed actress, Urela Harrington, was discovered on the banks of the canal. Many will already know the story of the young actress who met with her untimely death; that she was brought to the Capitol from District 8 by a scout who saw potential in her and desired to give her a better life.
"Peacekeepers and government officials have released an official statement stating that drowning was the suspected cause of death.
"While no official statement has been released documenting the last hours leading up to the star's death, our news reporters have managed to paint a general picture through their research. Urela had taken a car out at around one forty-five yesterday morning and driven straight to the canal, parking her car on a sidewalk where it was later ticketed and towed away. Witnesses reported seeing the young actress stumble towards the walkway along the canal as though she was highly intoxicated. It is not new knowledge that the troubled young woman had often had problems with her drinking habits and a blood test run on the body postmortem indicated a blood alcohol level that suggested she had been drinking heavily just prior to her death.
"Urela was next seen balancing precariously over the edge of a railing along the canal. A single witness reported trying to help the young woman but she had been belligerent and tried to push him away. In her actions, she somehow lost balance on the railing and plunged to her death. Although she struggled against the current and rescue attempts were made, the woman was pulled under the current of the water below and drowned."
A magenta haired news reporter is flashed on the screen in place of the canal clip and she gives a pathetic attempt at a somber smile.
"Such a tragic accident ending such a bright and shining young life." The woman laments, "We have to cut to a commercial break right now but when we return we will have Dr. Fisker, a critically acclaimed psychologist, whom we have invited to talk to us about how the young woman seemed to be recovering from her difficulties with alcohol before her untimely end. And later tonight, our channel will release special footage of the last days leading up to Urela's death that have never been released to the public along with a step-by-step walkthrough of this talented woman's final moments starting with the moment she left her apartment that fateful night. It's all here tonight so stay tuned."
I blink away the foggy tears that have gathered in my eyes and swallow against the bile rising in my throat. How could they talk about her like this, like they knew her? They're using her death for profit, capitalizing on every last drop of her blood.
"Camellia." Rowan says hesitantly, reaching to turn off the television. It's okay. I don't want to see anymore. I think if I do I might honestly be sick.
"She didn't fall in." I inform him weakly, holding up the paper in my hand.
He kneels down beside me and pulls me into a crushing hug.
"I'm so sorry." He murmurs into my hair, "I barely knew her but I know you were really close-"
"She was my best friend." The words shake as I say them and I realize that my entire body is shaking uncontrollably, "She kept me sane. She kept me alive just as much as you did while I was in the Capitol."
He nods against my hair but doesn't say anything as he brushes a hand comfortingly over my arm.
"She was there." I whisper, "The first night, after Milo sent me home, she was there. She took care of me."
Tears prickle in my eyes but they won't seem to come. Urela and I had never really had the sort of friendship that led to crying. All I really want, for the first time in a long while, is a shot of morphling; that's the only emotional release I can really think of to deal with losing Urela and it's not available.
Rowan's arms stiffen around me. I don't talk much about my time in the Capitol and I know it hurts him, just as it hurts me, to think of what they did to me. I bury my head against his green, cotton shirt and the words start flowing from me, like a dam was broken by Urela's passing.
"She gave me the morphling the first night when I went to her. I was still in shock and she let me cry." I smile wryly, "I know it must have made her uncomfortable. She hated pretty much any show of emotion but she put up with me. She gave me the morphling to help me sleep.
"She taught me how to take care of myself and how to keep them happy. She watched out for me." My voice breaks on the last words and it takes me several minutes before I gather myself again.
"Urela was the one who came for me the night that Milo tried to kill me. My driver found me, and she called the ambulance. She visited almost every day I was in the hospital."
I pause before whispering the words my mind has been thinking since the moment I finished reading her letter, "I never did anything for her. She's dead now and I never did anything to try and help her. I never even tried to contact her once I came home. What if I could have-" I trail off, unable to voice the idea.
"Shhh." Rowan soothes, rocking me gently in his arms where he still has me in a death grip. "She wanted you to know the truth, Camellia. You must have done a lot for her if she wanted that. You had her trust."
"It's not right." I say angrily, "It's not right that she's dead. She was so damaged she didn't even think her family would want her."
"I know." He murmurs.
"Do you? Do you, really?" I ask irrationally. I don't know why his empathy irritates me.
He pulls my shoulders away so he can look me in the eyes, "I do. That could have been you." He nods in the direction of the dark television screen, "Do you have any idea how much it would have killed me if it had been you?"
He pulls me back to his chest and I realize why he's been holding me so tightly all this time. It's all made him that much more grateful that I came home, even in my disastrous state, because at least I was alive- at least he had the chance to try and repair me.
"They deserve to pay for what they do to us." I mutter bitterly against him.
"One day they will, Camellia," he replies assuredly, "one day, soon, they will."
We sit there for a long time, simply clinging to one another, finding comfort in the fact that we are both still very much alive. Losing Urela reminds me just how lucky I was when I returned from the Capitol or even to have escaped the Capitol alive in the first place. It reminds me how much I love the man who is entangled so tightly with me now that I'm stiflingly warm on the balmy spring evening. I have people that still need and love me after everything I've been through and for that I owe them the rest of my life.
The smell of burning food brings both of us back to our senses and I quickly, though reluctantly, untangle myself from Rowan's limbs. A cloud of smoke billows out of the oven when I open it and I flap a towel around to try and break it up as I cough.
"Damn." I mutter, pulling out the charred casserole.
Rowan chuckles from over my shoulder, "What do you say to dinner at the restaurant in town, my treat?"
I shoot him a glare but it dissolves quickly into a smile. I can't really be angry on a day like this. I don't want to be unhappy when I'm still alive and I still have so many beautiful, wonderful, happy things to live for. I want to be consciously grateful for them, even if it's only for this day. It's my way to remember Urela, one of the best friends I ever had.
I call upstairs to Holly and Ash that we're going to the restaurant to eat, and, judging by the pounding of feet across the ceiling, they're excited about it. The restaurant isn't really anything special compared to what I've seen in the Capitol. Each day it has a special that everyone orders, no choices, and it's usually not all that spectacular. Simply the novelty of dining out is enough for the citizens of District 7 to get excited about.
Rowan smiles a bit somberly when he hears the instant reaction of my siblings. I can tell he feels the same about today as I do. I take the two steps that separate us, placing my hands on his waist to balance me as I reach up and kiss him. It's not long, or deep, just a chaste, quick, little thing but it stokes a warmth in me that had been missing since I first read Urela's letter. When I look into his eyes, I know he feels something similar.
That night we don't talk as we get changed for bed and we don't go to sleep right away either. We both stay awake, not talking, simply touching, caressing, reveling in the life that is still present inside of one another.
Eventually we both drift off, and I wake only a few hours later after dreaming that I had been the one to suffer Urela's death instead. Rowan pulls me tightly to him without a word when my strangled cry wakes him and he keeps me there until I drift off again.
There are no words I could give to this man that could aptly describe how I feel about him. Love doesn't seem to be enough. I need him like I need air or water. I don't think I could survive without him.
…
I'm pulling on one of Rowan's old shirts one night a week later as I get ready for bed. Rowan didn't come to dinner tonight and I haven't heard from him all day. I try not to let the worry eat away at me but I have a bad feeling about his absence.
Just as I'm climbing into bed, I hear someone shouting from outside. Quickly, I throw on the clothes I had just changed out of and rush downstairs, wondering if perhaps there was some emergency that Juni needed help with. It wouldn't be the first night that she has called me into town to assist her.
"Camellia!"
This time I recognize Laurel's voice as it calls through the door before she ever even knocks. I hurry to the door as her fist raps against the wood frame. It's late and I don't think I've ever heard Laurel's voice sound quite so sincerely worried. Instantly, my mind is creating up scenarios- that Cedar is hurt or something has happened to Cypress.
"Laurel, what is it?" I ask, throwing the door open wide and looking for some injured body in need of healing, but there is none to be found.
"It's Rowan." She says breathlessly, her face flushed from running all the way out to my house. My blood turns to ice in my veins when her two words sink in.
"What's wrong?" I ask, grabbing my jacket from the hook without further hesitation and hurrying out the door before she answers.
"He's in the town square." She explains, hurrying along next to me, pulling her light jacket closer to her body against the chill of the spring night. There's more to it than she's saying so I wait.
"He's drunk." Laurel drops the bomb.
"Drunk." I repeat, freezing for a moment to stare at her in shock.
She nods, "Red saw him in the bar and had him kicked out. Cedar's there with him, trying to calm him down, but he won't go home. Something has him upset."
I sigh, nod, and hurry off again towards the square; this time with renewed energy. I hear Rowan before I see him, his shouts echoing off the buildings in the village square.
"You can't stop me from drinking! I can do what I want. I paid for it! Stay away from me!" He yells.
His voice reminds me of a threatened animal, backed into a corner. When I walk into the square, I see that I'm not far from the truth. Cedar is there across from us and he sees Laurel and I as we walk out into the open, giving a tense nod in our direction to acknowledge us. There are other men as well, some I recognize as those who frequent the bar, others are the owners of the surrounding businesses.
Rowan is turning around in slow circles, trying not to turn his back on anyone but they have him surrounded so it's impossible to face them all at once. He doesn't have a jacket on and his cheeks are flushed pink, though whether from the chill of the evening or from the alcohol he's been drinking I can't be sure. A half-empty bottle of an all-too-familiar brown liquor swings loosely from his fist. He teeters on his feet unsteadily but as one man reaches to touch his shoulder he pulls away roughly, throwing a blind punch in his direction.
"Rowan." I say evenly, distracting him enough that he misses completely.
"Shut-up!" He shouts automatically, turning to face where the voice came from. He spots me and his glazed eyes widen slightly, "Go home, Camellia." He says softly.
"No." I refuse, shaking my head slowly as I step closer. Several of the men closest to me part so I can see him more clearly. "No, Rowan, I'm not leaving."
"Come on, man." Cedar speaks up, reaching forward for Rowan's arm again, "Let's just go back to my house so we can talk in private." As soon as Cedar's hand touches Rowan, there's a flash of silver as Rowan swings an arm again.
A knife.
"Rowan!" I scream and he misses Cedar by less than six inches. A shiver runs up my spine, too close. He doesn't turn around but his body freezes tensely in its motions.
"Stop it." I plead.
"I told you, Camellia," he growls lowly over his shoulder, "go home."
"What happened, Rowan?" I ask, taking another step closer, now just out of arms reach.
"I don't want to talk about it!" He shouts, his voice shaking just the tiniest bit, only enough that someone who knew him well would notice.
"Rowan." I say in the most soothing voice I can muster, just louder than a whisper as I reach out a hand for his forearm. "Please. You promised to talk to me."
I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't the flash of motion that results from my fingers brushing his skin. I don't comprehend what's happening until a moment later when the flurry of activity has calmed. The baker's hands are still on my shoulders, having pulled me back a few paces from Rowan. Rowan is howling like a wounded animal, still swinging the knife wildly. Cedar has his fingers wrapped around Rowan's knife hand, tightening his grip until Rowan's hand is forced to release the weapon.
My heartbeat speeds up and I find it hard to catch my breath. I must be in shock because I'm surprisingly unafraid considering the man who supposedly loves me just tried to slice a knife through me. Who would have seen this moment coming? Rowan is still looking at me like some sort of stranger, like a real threat. He's not in his right mine right now. I can tell that much easily. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, and fearful as he manages strangled breaths and struggles against Cedar's hold.
"That's enough, Rowan." Cedar says firmly, his voice threatening in a way I didn't know he was capable of. "You'll regret that in the morning."
"Let's take him back to the Victor's Village." I say softly, trying to keep my voice from shaking like the rest of my body suddenly is now that I'm coming down from the adrenaline rush. The baker doesn't comment on my trembling as he releases my shoulders from his steady hands with an encouraging smile.
Cedar nods and pulls Rowan's hands behind his back before pushing the drunken man in front of him. I jump nervously when Laurel's arm wraps around my shoulder as we follow behind.
"Sorry, it's just me. Are you okay?" She whispers, her words tickling against my skin.
I nod and allow her to pull my body closer to her own.
"He didn't mean it." She comforts, watching my face for any reaction.
"Yes he did." I whisper back, "He's just too drunk to know better."
"Isn't it the same thing?" She asks, wide eyed.
"No." I say firmly, turning my gaze to watch the auburn haired man stumble in front of me. "It's not. He's hiding something- something that scares him- and decided to get drunk instead of dealing with it."
Cedar unceremoniously drops Rowan's body into his bed once we get to the house. Rowan groans and shares a few choice words with the other man. Cedar throws a few words back at him as he strips off Rowan's clothes that look like he's been rolling around in the streets, and judging by his state I wouldn't doubt that he has, leaving him in his underwear.
"Are you going to be okay with him?" Laurel asks once Cedar throws a blanket over Rowan and returns to us in the doorway.
"I'll be fine." I assure her and she looks to Cedar uncertainly.
He nods to her before saying, "He should pass out pretty soon and sleep it off. If he gets bad again, just leave. Come and get me and I'll come back over to help, okay?"
"Thanks, Cedar." I say with a tight smile, "Thank you both."
"Of course, Camellia." Cedar says, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. They show themselves out of the house and I settle myself into bed in the room next door.
I don't sleep much, waking every few hours from restless dreams. When the sky finally begins to lighten from black to grey, I get up and check on Rowan. At some point during the night, he managed to throw off the blanket and he lies sprawled out over the mattress, one hand grazing the floor below. There's enough light from the setting moon to see him laying there, face relaxed, looking younger than he usually does.
I stand in the doorway watching him for a while before deciding to shower quickly. By the time I towel off and find some old clothes of Rowan's to wear, the sun is just reaching over the mountains, lighting up the trees behind the house. I pull the string tight on the soft, old pants, rolling them as high up as I can but even so, the legs still drag when I walk.
I move silently downstairs to fill a couple glasses of water then slice up some apples and bread. By the time my feet hit the landing, Rowan is rustling around in his bed. I step into the doorway and wait for him to notice me.
He rubs a hand roughly over his face before letting it run up into his hair. When his eyes land on me, his expression remains flat. We stare at one another in silence until I take a step forward and hand him one of the glasses of water.
He props himself up on one elbow as he takes the glass hesitantly from me, "Thanks."
"Thought you might be able to use it." I state dully, never looking away from him as he gulps down the liquid greedily.
Last night I hadn't felt much, simply too concerned with getting Rowan home safely and in bed. This morning however I realize just how angry I am with him; angry because he broke his promise to talk to me; angry because he tried to slice a knife through me instead of tell me something was wrong.
"You'd be right." He mumbles setting the empty glass on the bedside table and lying back down. I take a seat in the chair across from his bed, taking a bite of bread as I do.
I continue to watch him, waiting for him to say something, give me some excuse for his behavior but he doesn't.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I ask, after what seems like an eternity of silent waiting.
"I'd rather not." He retorts quickly.
"Well that's funny, Rowan, because I'd rather not have a knife swung at me but I don't think I got much of a choice in the matter last night." I point out as evenly as I can but there's an edge of anger clear in my voice.
His eyes snap up from the plate in his lap to look at me, widening as the memories of last night return to him.
"That wasn't a dream?" He asks worriedly.
When I shake my head, he has a sort of convulsion as though he's going to be sick. I watch as a wave of utter horror washes over him. Wide eyed, he searches my body for any injuries, his breath coming in short puffs as his jaw muscles clench, his pulse clearly visible from where I'm sitting.
"Did I- did I hurt you?" He asks, averting his gaze to an invisible mark on the wall across from him.
"Not physically." I say, still watching his face as I add, "Though not for lack of effort."
It's impossible to miss the cringe in his entire body when he hears my words. He looks up at me, the stench of guilt hard to miss. I take satisfaction in the look for once. Usually it hurts me to see him so upset, so sure he's a monster, but after the events of last night I'm pissed and I want answers and seeing him suffer makes it all just a little bit more tolerable.
"I'm so sorry, Camellia." He pleads, reaching out for my hands. I move them just out of reach, sitting farther back in the chair. His face falters, breaking at my rejection. I watch as the realization of what he's done, and its ramifications, hit him like a fallen tree.
"I wish I could take it back." He adds after a moment.
"That's the funny thing about actions. You can't take them back once they're done, Rowan." I spit the words.
"Then what do you want me to do?" He asks, confused with just an edge of irritation in his tone. Clearly he's not in the mood to take anymore biting words from me but I'm not quite ready to stop.
"Tell me what happened." I demand, struggling to keep the anger out of my voice, "And don't try and pretend that something bad isn't going on because you only relapse when something really upsets you. Something big must have happened, Rowan. I know it. You promised you would talk to me instead of running off and drinking again and you didn't. So either come clean now, or I'll leave and I won't come back."
The words nearly kill me to say but they have the intended effect. Rowan pales visibly at the threat and shakes his head disbelievingly.
"You don't need to know about it. I screwed up. It was an accident. That's all you need to know-"
"No!" I shout, leaning forward threateningly. "I think I deserve a little bit more than that, Rowan. You tried to slit my throat last night. It's a damn good thing Cedar was there to stop you."
His face scrunches up and he turns away from me for a moment. When he turns back the shame is still apparent on his visage but he seems to have regained some composure.
"It was Snow." He mumbles, closing his eyes tightly as he presses his fingers to them.
"What did he want?" I question, leading him on.
He heaves a great sigh, "Me. Back in the Capitol."
My brow furrows at his confession, "But you just got back."
"I know." He scoffs, "Hence, the drinking."
"Why does he want you to go back again? There can't possibly be another party, not with the Reaping so close." I state in disbelief.
He shrugs, "No. There's no party."
"Then what does he want, Rowan?" I demand, fear and anger rising up in me like a summer storm.
"They don't need a party to sell me. There are people willing to pay even if it's just for 'private companionship' without parading me around to parties with them." Rowan mumbles just loud enough for me to hear. I can hear in his voice how it breaks him up from inside to speak of it, "Snow said if I didn't come something unfortunate could happen that might make me want to be in the Capitol, away from seven."
My jaw goes slack and I'm speechless for a moment as I search for words, "Like what?" I whisper, hardly louder than a breath but he hears me. I know he does because, when his eyes meet mine, they're pleading with me to understand and to forgive him. "Like what, Rowan?" I demand again more desperately when he doesn't respond because deep down I already have an idea of what it is.
"He never says, Camellia. He just hints." Rowan explains in his best attempt at a soothing voice.
"Then what did he hint would happen?" I demand, hysteria rising inside me as my mind creates horrific scenarios, any number of which might be true.
"Ash might get hurt." He whispers quickly and adds, "He didn't say how; just that he might."
I choke on the air around me as I struggle to breath. My head is spinning so much one would think I was the one who'd been in the Village square with a bottle of liquor last night, not Rowan. Rowan is talking and reaching a hand out to mine but I don't hear him. All I can do is think of my baby brother who at this time is probably still at home asleep or possibly out in the woods setting snares. My innocent baby brother, who has done nothing to incite this, is in danger.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I shout, and he winces from the hangover.
"I couldn't!" He retorts just as strongly, "I couldn't do that to you Camellia. I knew how it would upset you. I didn't need to tell you because I'm going to take care of it. You never needed to know-"
My hand slaps across his face before I realize what I'm doing. He lets out a yelp of surprise and his hand immediately covers the quickly reddening mark. He stares at me with wide eyes as if he doesn't completely recognize me anymore.
"Don't you ever tell me that I didn't need to know about that, Rowan Carson." I say, my voice low and deadly, so full of fear I think I might explode from it. "They are my family, Rowan, not yours. You have no right."
I set off pacing across the room, unable to stand still any longer. It's like my body is trying to fly in a hundred different directions and if I don't start moving I'll burst into a thousand pieces, never to be whole again.
"I knew this would happen." I whisper, hardly louder than a breath, wringing the fingers of my stinging hand nervously.
"It's not, Camellia. I'm not going to let it happen. I told Snow I'd go. I'm not going to let anything happen to any of you." Rowan states as soothingly as he can manage while still nursing the handprint on his cheek.
"No." I say looking up to see my own fear reflected in his face, remembering back to that one party when so many things had gone wrong. Snow had spoken to me that night and what he had said seemed like a nonsensical warning until now.
"He threatened me." I whisper.
"Who?"
"Snow." I answer, "We'll never be safe, Rowan. He has it out for us."
"Shh." Rowan sooths, running his thumb along the side of my hand, "Don't think like that. It's going to be fine. I agreed. Everything is settled. You're all safe."
"For now." I retort.
He lets out a deep sigh and nods, "For now." He agrees because he knows I'm right. He knows there will be no end to this. There will be another demand eventually, probably sooner than we'd like. Always there will be a threat.
We sit in silence for what feels like ages, both thinking about the situation we're in. It's not until the sun has risen up over the trees that I speak again.
"Why didn't you come and talk to me?" I question, meeting his eyes with mine.
He looks away, "I couldn't talk about it. I couldn't worry you like that, knowing that nothing was going to come of it. I was going to take care of it. I still am."
"So, what, you decided to drown the thoughts?" I ask, exasperatedly.
"I didn't say it made sense. I just couldn't deal with it." He mumbles, "I didn't want you to worry, which you now are."
"Because I should be!" I exclaim, standing from my seat, "This is my family, Rowan. It's my job to protect them and I can't do that if you're keeping things like this from me!"
"You don't have to keep doing it alone." He argues, standing up from the bed but he cringes as he does from the quick movement, "It doesn't have to be all your responsibility.
"Yes it does." I counter firmly, crossing my arms.
"Why?" He demands just a fiercely. "Why can't you trust someone else for once in your life?"
"Because I'm the only one who wont die on them!" I shout without really thinking.
My hand claps over my mouth as soon as the words are out, as if trying to scoop them out of the air and back into my mouth but it's too late for that. He doesn't say anything, just watches me.
"I didn't mean that." I whisper, horrified by what I've just insinuated, "I don't blame my parents."
"I know." Rowan murmurs, walking slowly towards me, "You're just upset."
He reaches out for my hands but I step out of his reach, "This is huge, Rowan. You should have told me." I remind him, still angry about his behavior last night.
"I know that now." He whispers, "I'm sorry."
"I have to get home." I say before he can attempt physical contact. I can't deal with that right now. I'm still to angry with him, "They'll start to worry if I'm not back soon."
"They don't know you're here?" He asks, taking a step towards me.
"No. I left in such a hurry last night I didn't have time to tell them where I was going." I retort, trying to insinuate just how afraid he had made me last night.. The shame returns to his face again as a hand moves to rub the back of his neck. Good. He deserves to be embarrassed by all of this.
"I need to go." I say.
Just before I walk out of the room I turn back to see him still standing in the center of the room looking lost as to what he should do.
"Don't come around tonight, Rowan." I whisper weakly.
"Camellia-"
"Just don't, okay." I state rather than ask, "I just need time. You really fucked up, not telling me about this."
He stares at me a moment, a thousand emotions crossing his face, before he nods almost imperceptibly.
"I'm sorry." He says softly but it's not enough. I don't respond before walking out of the room and closing the door behind me, leaving the house to head for home.
I need to get out of here because looking at him right now confuses me. I want to hold him and comfort him because I know he must be scared to go back to the Capitol. I want to strangle him for trying to keep Snow's threat a secret from me. I want to kiss him because I still love him and I want to smack him across the face again because I hate him for breaking my trust.
The walk home doesn't do much to soothe my nerves. My muscles are tense with frustration and fear by the time I walk through the door to a silent house.
"Ash? Holly?" I call out but no one answers. I frown; normally Holly doesn't go out into the woods with Ash when he's setting out snares. He usually prefers to work alone and in silence. I check the table and counters for a note but there's nothing, no sign that either of my siblings woke up and left the house.
I walk out to the backyard but there's no sign of them there either. I try calling their names again but still there's no response. When I realize I've run out of ideas about where I might be, my heartbeat speeds up as I try not to let the panic rise within me.
It's nothing; I try to convince myself. When they woke up this morning and I wasn't there, Ash probably just assumed I wouldn't be back before he returned home. If I hadn't just found out about Snow's threat, I probably wouldn't bat an eyelash. I'm just overreacting, I assure myself. I'm sure they're both fine. The best thing I can do is sit tight and wait for them to return home.
I clean the house, top to bottom, trying to keep myself busy. It doesn't do much to ease my mind but at least I'm not sitting around thinking about every wretched thing that might have happened to them. After last night and Rowan's revelations this morning, all I really want is to gather both of my siblings in my arms, whole and healthy.
I drop the cloth I was using to polish the doorknob when I hear feet hit the steps on the front porch. Hurrying downstairs to meet them, I see them walking through the door, both of their faces flushed from the cool spring air, smiling from ear to ear and laughing about something that I've missed.
"Hi, Camellia! You're home." Holly says happily as they walk through the door and she gives me a quick hug before returning to the hook next to the door to temporarily hang up the bag full of gathered greens she'd been carrying.
Ash stares at me, clearly having taken note of my face, which, I'm sure, is still half frozen between terror and relief. "Are you okay?" He asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, shaking my head, trying to throw off the aftereffects of my fear.
"You weren't here this morning so we went out to set some traps and then to see Maggie." He explains before he hesitantly adds, "I figured we'd be back before you so I didn't leave a note. Sorry."
"It's okay." I assure him, letting out a deep breath. "I was just a little jittery but you're fine. Everything's fine." I say, more for myself than for either of them.
"Yeah." Ash says still watching me like I'm some strange, frightened animal. "Yeah, we're fine. Why wouldn't we be?"
"I don't know." I say, shaking my head with a forced smile, "I'm just being silly. I got myself spooked."
Ash waits until Holly leaves to go upstairs and finish homework that's due tomorrow at school before he speaks again.
"Where were you last night?" He asks, taking a seat on the couch, watching me as I move about the kitchen to make some lunch.
"I was in town." I state, turning my attention to chopping up a carrot.
"Could you be a bit more general?" He asks and I can hear the smirk in his voice as he does.
I glance at him over my shoulder, "I had to help Rowan."
"With?"
"He was drunk in the town square." I admit reluctantly, "Cedar and Laurel helped me get him home and I stayed overnight to make sure he was okay this morning."
"Why was he drinking?" He questions, concern clear in his voice. He knows Rowan has been working hard to stay sober over the last year, probably even more than I do since he was here when Rowan first stopped drinking. He knows it must be something bad. I silently curse my baby brother for being intelligent and growing up so quickly.
"He got a call from the Capitol that upset him." I explain and glance again over my shoulder. He's opening his mouth to ask something else when I cut him off by adding, "And that's all you need to know, Ash. He's fine now." He closes his mouth and frowns, but he doesn't argue.
"Is he still coming for dinner tonight?" He inquires cautiously. I can tell he expects a certain answer. He wouldn't be asking if he didn't suspect that Rowan and I had fought.
"No," I sigh heavily, "I don't think so, Ash."
He watches me silently while I cook up a quick lunch. It's a simple, quiet meal. Holly is the only one who seems to be in the mood to talk as she tells us a few stories. Ash volunteers to help with the dishes after we finish eating so that Holly can finish her homework.
We both fall into a rhythm as I wash and he dries the dishes. I'm so lost in my own internal battle over Rowan that I don't realize he has something on his mind until I hold out a bowl for him to dry and he doesn't take it right away. I glance over at him and see he's staring out the window, lost in some thought.
"What's on your mind, Ash?" I ask, bringing him back to the kitchen. He smiles shyly before speaking.
"The school dance is coming up." He says softly, contemplating a small chip on the rim of the bowl when I turn to look at him.
"It's that time already, is it?" I ask with a smile, remembering my own years of school dances.
The dance has become an annual tradition in District 7. Every year, the mayor pays for a small, informal dance to be held on the last day of school. It's something the children look forward to with great anticipation. For the youngest ones, it's a fun party with friends. For the older ones, it's an opportunity to spend a little extra time with friends and to get dressed up to dance with their sweethearts. The older ones also realize that it's one last celebration with everyone together before the Reaping. They know that, next year, two students will be missing and it could be any of them.
I remember when Linden first asked me to go with him; he'd waited until the day of the dance. It had been two years before we started seeing one another officially and he'd arrived at my door that morning before school with a bunch of wild lily and yarrow blossoms. My mother had commented how sweet it was that he thought to bring flowers, and she had quickly placed them in water. I had agreed to go with him of course and we had awkwardly walked around at the dance for the first hour and a half.
We were only twelve then and I was still taller than him. I had never been close enough to a boy to hold his hand and I was so nervous I thought I might throw up the sandwich I had eaten at lunch. The social pressure from our peers left us both red faced and uncomfortable as they teased us about holding hands. We quickly warmed to each other though and forgot that we were dates, instead falling into our usual, comfortable pattern of talking and joking.
After that, Linden would show up every year on the day of the dance with a different wildflower in his hand. Even once we were officially a couple, he asked hesitantly if I would go with him, as if he didn't already know the answer.
"It is." Ash says, bringing me back from my reveries. He looks like he wants to say more but hesitates.
"Are you excited?" I probe.
He nods, curls flopping slightly, "Sure. I just- I- never mind." He stutters, drying the last dish. "Forget I said anything." He says walking swiftly out the front door.
A smile plays at my lips as I watch him take a seat on the steps, balancing his chin in the palm of his hand. Linden would do that sometimes when he was nervous to talk about something. It's funny how Ash picked up so many mannerisms from him. I quietly step outside and sit beside him.
"What's going on, Ash? What has you so nervous you can't even tell me about it?" I ask, nudging him with my shoulder.
"It's just this stupid dance." He mumbles, "All the guys are asking girls."
I raise a surprised eyebrow, "Are you?"
"I don't know." He shrugs, "I- I think I want to."
"Really?" I ask with a smile, "Who?"
"Dahlia Jepson." He answers easily, a blush creeping to his ears at the mention of the name. "But I don't know how. And she probably has someone else she wants to go with anyway."
"Dahlia. That's the girl you danced with at Laurel's wedding?" I ask and he nods. "Well, you should just ask her. The worst thing that could happen is she might say no."
He throws me a skeptical look, "That's what I'm worried about."
I chuckle and he looks offended by it, "I'm not laughing at you." I assure him, "It's just that when you're older you'll realize it's a pretty small risk to take."
He doesn't say anything in reply so I take another stab, "I think she likes you, Ash. She asked you to dance at the wedding after all." I point out.
"Yeah," he says with a smile as he remembers the night before he adds, "but then I kissed her. She hasn't spoken to me since. She avoids me most of the time actually."
"Did you ever try and talk to her about it?" I ask, holding back another laugh. He shakes his head. "She might just be nervous. She probably thinks you've been avoiding her too."
"But I haven't!" He argues, "I just don't want to upset her. The butcher's son from town is sweet on her and I see them talking a lot. I don't want her to think I'm weird by talking to her if she doesn't want to talk to me."
He lets out a heavy sigh, "She probably thinks I'm an idiot. Why would she choose a poor kid from the woods when the butcher's son clearly wants to go with her?"
I level him with a serious gaze, "Ash Goldenlarch, you are just as good as any merchant's boy, do you hear me? Don't let anyone tell you you're worth less just because you're not rich. You are smart and kind and so very brave. Any girl would be lucky to go to that dance with you."
I have to consciously restrain myself from gathering him in my arms like a little boy. I know it wouldn't help his self-confidence to have his older sister hug him like he's still a child. I wish he were still my baby brother who loved curling up in my lap for a good cuddle at the end of the day but I'm starting to realize he's well on his way to transitioning into manhood, a thought I find all too terrifying so I push it aside to be dealt with another day.
"I'll tell you what, you talk to her tomorrow. That's the first step. You can worry about asking her to the dance after that." I suggest but he shakes his head.
"Someone else will ask her if I wait." He says, "She's the prettiest girl in our grade."
I smile, remembering how Linden thought the same thing of me, or so he admitted one day after I'd turned seventeen. No doubt the young girl is pretty, but I'm sure that Ash's opinion is aided by his affections.
"You know how Linden first asked me to the dance?" I ask and he looks at me waiting for more. "He waited until the very last minute and then he brought me wildflowers."
"And you said yes." He finishes, rolling his eyes.
"Yes. Of course I did. Even then, I liked spending time with Linden." I admit with a small smile.
"That doesn't really help me, Camellia." Ash points out dully, "I don't even know if Dahlia likes me."
I laugh and place a hand on his shoulder, "The point I was making is that it doesn't matter how you ask her, Ash. If she likes you and she's a decent person, she'll say yes. It doesn't matter that some merchant's kid is chasing after her."
"You really think that's true?" He asks skeptically but I can see the tiny spark of hope in him.
I nod, "I do. When have I ever lied to you, Ash?"
A smile breaks across his face, "Okay. Thanks, Camellia." He says, standing and brushing his hands through his curls, "I have to get going. I'm supposed to go play a pickup game with some the guys from school."
"Have fun and just be back for dinner." I say with a smile. He nods and seems to contemplate something for a moment before throwing his arms around my neck in a tight hug.
"Thanks. Really." He says, his words muffled against my neck. He pulls away from me a bit so he can look me in the eyes, "I missed having you around for advice when you were in the Capitol. It's nice having my older sister around again."
"Of course kid." I say ruffling his hair lightly the way I know annoys him so that he might not notice the happy tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm glad I could help out."
He smiles brightly before heading off on the path that leads to town. I watch him go and wonder how in the world I'm twenty-one and my baby brother is twelve. I can't even fathom that Holly is nine and a half now. Where has all that time gone?
I shake my head because there's no real way of answering my question. Time is by far the strangest thing in the world. It goes too slow and too fast all at once and suddenly you're not a child anymore but an adult and you have no idea how you got there.
With this thought fresh in my mind, I make my way upstairs to sit with Holly while she does her schoolwork. Even if she doesn't need me to help, it will just be nice to sit with her and watch the way her face changes while she concentrates on a hard problem. Today I just want to spend as much time as I can with my siblings. I want to take it all in on a day when I've been reminded that they aren't as safe as I'd like to believe; on a day when I might have permanently damaged things with the only other person I love.
My heart aches with anger and longing at the same time when I think of Rowan and his face when I told him not to come to the house tonight. It's all still too fresh. I need time to calm down and think it all through. Things with Rowan will have to wait. For now I need to be with my sister.
AN: Ah. Please don't be upset. I know I was angry with myself as I wrote it. Anyway, not a lot of action-y stuff (more drama-y) this time because this part ended up longer than expected. Next chapter will start the action. Big changes my friends; big changes.