Hi peeps! I hope you enjoy my new story! I have been dying to write this for a while. It's probably going to be more intense than my previous stories, so caution as I may change the rating to M.
I might get a beta reader for this story because this is my fourth HG fanfic, and I think it would be helpful. If anyone is a beta, let me know!
Please, PLEASE read and review. I love feedback and helpful criticism. To each person that reviews, you will get a special baked good from PEETA with a personalized note that I will give at the beginning of each chapter! ;)
I hope to update as much as I can! Thank you guys so much!
*I do not own Suzanne Collins' The Hunger Games series nor her characters.
THE DEATH OF CHOICES
In the blue sunlight of early winter, I trudge along the narrow dirt road to the Victor's Village with two rabbits strung across my back. The first snow was surprisingly heavy for District Twelve as this area tends to get more storms in January. It should be a beautiful time of the year-with laughing children playing in the snow, and the traditional winter festivities in town taking place throughout the month-but all I can think about is when my family nearly froze to death with hollow stomachs the year my father passed away.
The winter also brings the dreadful reminder that the Victory Tour is quickly approaching, and neither Peeta or I can hope to escape it. Something tugs at my heart at the thought of Peeta. It's discomforting, and I want to push his image away in my mind. Maybe it's because I feel guilty, distressed, and... terribly sorry that we aren't friends. All of this is my doing, of course. But what else could I have told him on the train ride home?
No, I'm not in love with you, but there was one time when we kissed that I didn't mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it. I didn't want it to end. But I still don't want to be your girlfriend.
It's true that I felt a desire for him that moment in the cave. I'll admit that. It's not difficult to experience lust, but that is not love. As far as I'm aware, Peeta actually has feelings for me. And it's more than just a physical attraction. Why the hell is this the case? I have no idea. At this point I've stopped wondering about that. Instead, I probably should begin strategizing a way for him to fall out of love with me.
I climb the sturdy stone steps of my Victor house and swing open the deep blue oak door. Immediately, I am greeted by my mother and sister who have cheeky smiles plastered on their faces. Far too pleasant to be real.
"How was your outing in town, dear?" My mother asks brightly, relieving the two rabbits off of my shoulders.
"In town? I was out-"
"Thank you for picking these up from the butcher. They'll make good stew!" She cuts me off, patting my cheek. I eye her curiously, before she quickly gestures towards the two peacekeepers standing in the foyer.
"We have guests. They'll be staying for dinner after you speak with the President," my mother explains in the calmest voice she can manage, although her chins trembles. The peacekeepers tower over me. With stern, bland expressions, they escort me down the hall.
"President Snow has requested a visit. He is in the study with Mr. Peeta Mellark," one informs me almost robotically.
"Uh, thank you," I reply uncertainly.
Peeta? He's at my house? If the president is meeting with both of us, it must be serious. Oh shit, what did we do? Whatever happens, my intuition tells me to act in love, to pretend like I just saw Peeta yesterday when we haven't even spoken for months.
Be in love, be in love. I repeat.
They nudge me through the door, before abruptly shutting it behind me. A silky blond head turns to look at me. Peeta's eyes twinkle upon my arrival, as if I am the single cause of his joy. Either he's desperately in love or extremely talented. I force a grin.
Thank God you knew to play the game, too. I want to tell him. Behind Peeta, President Snow perches in the leather armchair behind the wide mahogany desk. He absentmindedly stirs a cup of tea beside him.
"Miss Everdeen, what a pleasure to see you. Do sit down. Peeta and I were just talking about how lovely your mother is. She just made us a pot of homemade juniper tea. Do you happen to grow juniper in your garden?" He asks smoothly, appearing genuinely interested, and yet a touch too friendly.
"They sell the berries at the market in town. Peeta and I shop there all of the time now," I lie. The berries are from the woods. I gathered them yesterday. Juniper is one of the few plants that produces berries in the winter. I wonder if Snow suspects that I hop the fence once a day to hunt and gather. I wouldn't be surprised if a little birdie told him.
I turn my attention towards Peeta as I settle into a chair beside him. I try to smile dreamily as he reaches over and visibly takes my freezing hand. Snow's slit-shaped eyes flicker down at our hands.
"Ah, of course. How wonderful it is to be blessed with your earnings!" He gives us such a fond smile it's sickening. Peeta's fingers tighten around mine, and I know this isn't for show but for comfort. I squeeze back. Despite our temporary estrangement, he and I have both sensed a danger with Snow's presence before us and won't abandon each other.
"I hope you have been enjoying these past months and are settling happily into your new homes. Now, we must move on to the serious, yet fun business. The Victory Tour is in two weeks. In order to feel the most comfortable, I want you both completely prepared before you step onto that train," President Snow informs us, his tone remaining light and welcoming.
Something isn't right. I made him incredibly angry with my act with berries. Haymitch spoke with me about it, and I personally sensed it the day Snow crowned Peeta and me as victors. This must be more than just a "congratulations and allow me to give you some helpful advice" visit from the President.
"How may we prepare, sir?" Peeta asks politely. President Snow nods, folding his hands together over the table.
"Thank you for asking, my dear boy. That is exactly why I am here. Let's just say, I have a proposition to make. The Capitol is absolutely devouring your love affair. They simply cannot get enough details about you. I'm sure the press will be flooding with stories by the time you are on tour. What makes this occasion even more exciting is that fact that we have two victors. It was-how do I put this-Romeo and Juliet but with the ending we all wanted!" he chuckles. I recall the title of that ancient story, but unfortunately do not understand his reference.
"Ah, well, the only issue is... some of the districts did not feel the same way about your little stunt with the berries. An Act of Defiance some have called it. As the President of Panem, I cannot ignore these accusations. There is a difference between love and rebellion, as I am sure you both know. That is why it is essential that the both of you be on your best behavior during the tour." With these words, Snow's gaze solely focuses on me.
"Of course," I manage to get out.
"Good. Additionally, I suggest you both take some time to reflect on your future. The Capitol would be thrilled to hear that you plan on... getting married sometime soon. Of course, I understand you both are young, but I have heard people marry young in Twelve. In my opinion, this is the best way to prove to the districts your love for one another," Snow winks.
I want to recoil. Marriage... I have never wanted that. I despise it at times. Why would anyone get married in Twelve? Why would two people agree to do something that leads to children getting Reaped to be slaughtered on a TV screen? The single life seems the most logical in a country like this.
"If I were you, I would take my advice. Victors are expected to be taken under the wing of the Capitol. You are-how do I word this-honorary Capitol citizens from now on. Not only that, you are celebrities. People would pay by the thousands for the pleasure of your company. In some ways, it's a shame you two are already involved with each other. Think of the wealth you would accumulate with such a position."
What he is insinuating makes me want to vomit. I breathe in through my nose, trying to maintain a tranquil expression. Peeta's fingers clench my hand harder as he stiffens beside me.
"But there's always an opportunity for that, if something devastating occurs to keep you two apart. I think it would be rather off-putting to present you to eager customers together, but I wouldn't completely throw away the idea. However, let's simply focus on the task at hand, hmm? Don't be hesitant to display your genuine love for the entire nation and consider announcing your wedding very soon," he tells us with almost a sinister glint in his green eyes. I'm already certain something terrible will happen if we don't do what he suggests.
Peeta and I agree to obey Snow's commands, thank him for his (untimely) visit, and allow him to lead the way to the formal dining room for dinner. I'm afraid the meal will be stiff and frightening, considering the fact that Snow and his peacekeepers barged their way into my house, but somehow Peeta and my mother save the evening by kindly striking up most conversations. I sit silently between Peeta and Prim and try to keep the one hand holding my fork steady while the other grips my leg under the table to keep from uncontrollably shaking.
After filling ourselves with a delicious chocolate cake, carefully baked by Peeta, of course, and drinking the remainder of my mother's good wine, we say goodbye and thank the president yet again for the honor of hosting him at our home. Snow gives Peeta and me a gentle departing hug, holding me against his shoulder a bit longer to hiss into my ear:
"Convince not only the districts, but also me, especially for the sake of your loved ones."
I nod, trying not to breathe in the thick odor of fresh roses mingled with something rotten and dying that makes my eyes water. And with that, President Snow slips into a sleek black vehicle and is whisked away. I didn't realize it until now, but I'm slightly shaking on my front doorstep. I try to blame the cold. Almost immediately after Snow's departure, Peeta offers to help clean up dinner, thanks my mother for her hospitality, and heads across the square to his house without another word.
I peek through the curtains and watch him go. I want to speak with him about what has just happened. He must feel just as uncomfortable about our practically arranged marriage as I am. Surely, this is never what he envisioned for us. Maybe I will work up the courage to knock on his door after my mother and Prim prepare for bed. I wander back into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, I know that must have been scary," I murmur with an apologetic glance as we scrub the rest of the large dishes. Prim shrugs as she dries a pan.
"It's okay. We were just worried they figured out you were in the woods," she replies. My mother messages her forehead.
"I wasn't sure what to do when they showed up at our doorstep. And then it was requested that Peeta be invited over so Prim had to go get him, too. I tried to stall and make them tea until you arrived," she explains.
"Thanks, mom. You both did a good job at remaining calm," I assure them. At least one crisis was averted because of my family. I should probably still warn Gale to be extra cautious about hunting from now on.
"What did he want, Katniss? The president?" Prim asks. I press my lips together, figuring out how to word this delicately for the two of them. They still don't really understand my relationship with Peeta. I never told them that I didn't share the same feelings he had for me.
"Well... he just wanted to congratulate us on winning once again and give us some advice about the upcoming events. It's customary for the president to visit the victors' homes before the Victory Tour anyway," I try to explain casually, lifting up a stack of plates to put away.
"You think they would have given us a notice before just showing up uninvited," I hear my mother murmur. I can't sympathize with her statement more.
While my mother and Prim get themselves ready for bed, I decide to take a shower and slip on some comfortable clothes before forcing myself out the door to see Peeta. I don't really want to talk to him because I know it will tear open all of these unwanted emotions inside of me, but I can't bear this insufferable void between us either.
I brace myself as I trudge up his steps and knock. Through the distorted narrow windows in the door, I see the hall light flip on and a shadow approach. Peeta cracks the door open.
"Oh, hey. It's you," he says with unreadable expression. I swallow, glancing down at the wool socks on his feet.
"Yeah, it's me," is all I can think to reply. There's an excruciating pause. Stupid. Say something.
"Can we talk?" I get out, forcing my head up. Peeta scratches his neck before nodding. He invites me in, and I am instantly wrapped in a cushion of warmth. A sweet aroma wafts from the kitchen. I wonder what he is baking at this hour? We sit in the formal living room to the left. Peeta gets a fire started across from the embroidered velvet sofa. I sit there with my arms wrapped tightly around my knees.
"Peeta, I'm-"
"Katniss, before we start, I actually have something to say," Peeta suddenly turns to me from stoking the flames in the fireplace. They glow softly against his golden hair, highlighting the waves and dips of his curls. I follow his hairline down to his soft blue gaze.
"Okay," I answer as he slowly approaches to sit beside me.
"After today, I've had some time to think. It wasn't right of me to hold you to what you said and did in the games. You were just trying to keep us alive. And with what Snow told us, we're just gonna have to keep playing the game. But if we have to be players, I'd like us to be friends, too. Because we're on the same team, you and me." With just those words, he somehow magically mends the crack between us. I still feel the need to apologize, but I'm grateful to hear that he isn't mad at me anymore.
"I'm not the best at friends, but I'll try," I let a grin slip. Peeta leans back on the sofa.
"Okay, good. Now, we have to strategize," he quickly shifts to a more serious tone. I nod.
"I think we need to be prepared to get married this year, Katniss," he admits quietly.
"We could get engaged during the tour," I suggest, struggling to maintain eye contact with him. It's difficult to not feel strange about this, especially with the circumstances.
"Yeah, I think we can do it then... It's the best way to keep us out of other plans Snow might have for us and to keep our families safe," Peeta agrees. I involuntarily shiver, gripping my legs tighter. Peeta goes and grabs a blanket from the closet and drapes it over me.
"Thanks," I whisper, with slight guilt because of his small kindness. Peeta gives me an assured look.
"Hey, we'll be okay. The more we act in love, the less likely other things will happen."
"Yeah, you're right."
All I have to do is marry Peeta and have a life with him. Part of me desires to scream at the thought of it, to sprint away into the woods and hide forever. I think perhaps that part of me has to do with a struggle to feel vulnerable... And the thought that I have to make a decision that will tie me down so quickly and irreversibly.
But no. I don't have the option to run. Snow threatened us today. We are completely at his disposal if we want our families safe and our human dignity intact.
"Peeta, do you think most of the other victors are... are..." I don't want to say the word. It's not that I'm embarrassed by it, it just makes me feel queasy and repulsed and... sad.
"What, prostitutes?"
"Yeah," I answer, my voice hollow.
"Not all of them, but most. If they aren't physically desirable, than the Capitol probably forces them to do other deeds or keep them away from the public entirely," Peeta speculates pensively.
"I wish they'd just keep us away from the public, like Haymitch," I groan, leaning back on the sofa.
"Unfortunately, I think the Capitol citizens like fresh meat," Peeta replies darkly.
"I could see you becoming very successful as a prostitute, like what's-his-name? That victor Finnick O'dair?" I chuckle. Peeta grins slyly.
"Are you saying I'm desirable?" he wiggles his eyebrows. I roll my eyes.
"Well, you're certainly more attractive than me. And I wouldn't be surprised if you were good in bed," the moment it spills from my mouth, I want to take it back. My face reddens as Peeta doubles over, overwhelmed with fits of laughter. I take the nearest pillow at whack his arm.
"Sorry, I'm sorry," he half-pleads, half-chuckles as I continue to hit him.
"Hey, at least you'd be violent in bed. Some people like that kind of thing," he smirks, which makes me want to hit him harder. But I don't, only to disprove his point, but my face is still hot. I give a shudder, putting down the pillow.
"Let's stop talking about it," I say, my laughter gone.
"Sorry, you're right," Peeta nods. I return to my curled up position. Peeta tentatively reaches out and places a hand on my arm.
"If I can help it Katniss, I will do everything in my power to keep that from being your fate," Peeta tells me, a look of absolute determination and sincerity in his eyes. And I believe him. The only problem is, I'm not as good at pretending as he is.