Disclaimer is attached to the first chapter.
Capitol Nights, chapter 54
Bent over nearly double, Peeta holds onto Rue's tiny hands and tries not to squeeze.
"Daee!" Rue protests in her high-pitched cry that's so recently become speech, actual words. She's talking! Daddy, Peeta mentally translates. She said 'daddy'. He feels a large and rather silly grin stretch across his face, displacing the look of worry and anticipation. She's been saying that and maybe four other words for a week now, but it's still a novelty.
"Sorry, baby," he says, loosening his hold slightly.
Rue takes a couple of wobbling steps as he moves with her, her elfin face rapt with concentration. She's wearing a romper of some gold shimmery fabric, softer even than cotton. It was a gift from some Capitolite, of course. You can't really find baby clothes in 12. Babies go in just diapers during the warm months and get wrapped up in blankets during the cold ones. Every time Katniss takes an interest in Rue the first thing she does is undress her.
Peeta can't resist, though. They have boxes of baby clothes, everything from spangled and ruffled nightgowns to formal dresses with lacings of tiny pearls all over them. And what's the harm in it? Who is it hurting, exactly, to dress his daughter up in these soft and pretty things? Just in the privacy of their home, who is it hurting? And shouldn't Rue have the best they can give her? Sometimes he doesn't understand Katniss at all.
Which isn't a fair statement, Peeta chides himself. Okay. She doesn't want to look at their daughter and be reminded of the Capitol. He gets that. But he just wishes, sometimes, that Katniss would look at their daughter and see Rue.
"Ready?" he asks, half-hoping she'll say she isn't, don't let go. And it's a little crazy to feel like this, especially after all he's seen and done in the last couple of years. Maybe that's why Katniss can't seem to get excited about this. But, oh, when Rue falls she cries. Sometimes just a couple of little sobs, if he gets there quick enough, but sometimes she really bawls. And every time she does that he wonders if she maybe broke something, if she's bruised, if she'll be too scared to try again.
"Yesh," she says, heedless of his anxiety.
"Okay. Okay, here goes." Peeta silently counts to three and lets go, bracing himself.
Rue takes a step, her arms held out to her sides like little wings, her eyes alight. She takes another step as Peeta stares and forgets to breathe. She windmills her arms and takes one more step before flopping over and sitting down with a tiny muffled thump. She stares up at her father with wide, startled eyes and her chin quivers.
Unfreezing, Peeta dives down and scoops her up. He's laughing in totally unaffected delight and Rue looks at him with her mouth hanging open and then begins to laugh with him, the unpleasantness of falling cleanly excised from her little mind.
"You did it, baby!" Peeta crows. "You walked! Wait 'til we tell your mother!"
"Tell me what?" Katniss asks, taking in the scene from the doorway. As it almost always does, the sight of them together draws a small smile from her. He's a great father, she thinks in tones of relief. Oh, good. Good for Rue.
"She walked!" Peeta announces. He looks at Katniss's muted smile and the strange wistfulness in her eyes and feels his own happiness begin to ebb. She should have been watching. He should have made sure she didn't miss Rue's first steps. He presses a quick kiss to his daughter's cheek and sets her down. "Sorry," he says genuinely. "She'll do it again soon. I should have called you. I just didn't think."
Katniss shakes her head. "It's okay. She'll do it again soon, like you said."
"Maybe she'll do it again now!" Peeta declares. He sees the look that flashes through Katniss's gray eyes, knows he's pushing too hard. But he plows on because there's just no connection. It had been just as if he'd said: "The most beautiful cardinal landed on the fountain just now. I wish you'd seen it." Her eyes had slid briefly to Rue at the mention of the baby's name, then scittered right away again. Like their daughter is some- some stain on the carpet or something. Something she'd rather not look at.
"Really, Peeta, it's fine," she says, casually dismissing both this milestone in Rue's life and his own excitement.
What can he possibly do about this? He'd gone along with the name when he'd seen she really meant it, gone along with it and privately started planning how he'd justify it in interviews. What else can he do, though? She's a baby. There aren't even any real decisions to be made about how to raise her yet. You know, more decisions I could give in on so that she might look with favor on the child, he thinks unhappily.
"No, sit. I'm sure she'll do it again," he insists.
Relenting, Katniss strides over to a chair and regards her husband with a troubled mien. He's still trying so hard. Like last night, after they put the baby down. As always, there'd been that nearly maddening hesitance and over-done gentleness in his touch at first. But that she's gotten used to. He needs her to set the pace, that's all. She supposes some men are just like that. He catches on quick enough, and after that he does just fine. Better than fine, mostly. But afterwards… hell, it's like she's glass again. And she hates that, and she knows there's just no way to say so without hurting him. Still… every damn time. She just doesn't think she'll be able to not say anything much longer. She always seems to end up burning him when he comes nigh.
Thinking of this, she makes a mental note to drink some of that awful-tasting moon-tea; they'd both gotten a little carried away last night, and she's sure as hell not giving Snow another hostage. Not until he forces her to, anyway. She looks down at Rue with stony eyes: Rue in that sodding gold romper. Sorry, kid. We didn't have any choice. Someday she guesses she'll have to go on and say that out loud; in a couple of years, when Rue will understand the words.
Peeta takes Rue under the arms and sets her on her feet before taking her hands again. "Come on, Rue, walk for mommy," he coaxes.
Katniss winces slightly. "Wish you wouldn't call me that."
"You are her mother," Peeta points out reasonably (or pig-headedly).
"Yeah, I guess there can't be any doubt about that," Katniss concedes with a spiky little smile.
Rue isn't having any of it. She can sense something going wrong between the twin gods of her microverse, even though She speaks calmly and He answers with the smile in his voice. Something going wrong again; He isn't happy anymore, and She is sad and maybe something more than sad. Rue tries to plop back down, is held up, and begins to cry instead.
Peeta picks her up, lays her against his shoulder and begins to pace up and down with her.
"I'll get her bottle," Katniss says, rising (gracefully, beautifully) from her chair.
"Thanks," Peeta acknowledges softly.
Katniss stands and watches him for a moment. Then she goes to him and puts her arms around him, being careful of the baby. She kisses him lightly and then leans back to look at him. "Hey," she says, her tone as soft as his. "Kids never perform on cue." She shrugs, looks away, the softness melting away from her voice as she strives for a safe distance again. "That's what my mother says, anyway."
He smiles at her, all the unspoken things hanging right behind his eyes (does he think she can't see them?). "Yeah. I just wish you'd seen."
Uncomfortable now, she steps back. "No big deal, okay? I'm going to get some tea, before I forget." She understands. She does. She's not good at this at all. She's maybe even as bad as Peeta's own mother. Well, surely not that bad. She wouldn't actually hurt Rue, or anything. But she just doesn't think she can love Rue, either. Some days she stands over the crib while the baby sleeps (she thinks if she's going to feel it at all, it will almost certainly come to her while Rue's asleep). Nope, nothing. She's got nothing. Her capacity for caring about others seems to be just big enough to completely encompass her sister. There's little enough left for Peeta, and nothing at all left for this baby neither of them wanted. And if she can't even make herself care about her, how will she call up the strength and courage to protect her?
She tips wide, shocked, frightened, hurt eyes up to Peeta's face again, only meaning to tell him she can't, don't ask me to. But he's looking back at her, so almost-nearly-loved, and feckless, and worried. Katniss snaps back to herself like a sprung rubber band. He's certainly not going to step in for her. Neither is Haymitch, not now, not anymore. You just step up, damn you, she tells herself fiercely. Step up.
"What's wrong?" Peeta asks.
"Nothing," she says coldly. "Going to make some tea." She turns on her heel and leaves them there. Let Peeta take care of the babe. That he can do, at least. It's something.
