Author's Note: I haven't written in - how long has it been? Oh, yeah, months. So sorry about that if you are interested in learning what comes next. I'm sure you guys can understand the pulls of life - not to mention the coming holiday season. Hope everyone reading had an awesome Thanksgiving, as always R&R so I can hear your thoughts.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hunger Games. Only the plot.
"Thank you again, Mom," Willow told me, her face glowing, when Peeta and I arrived back to the house.
"Yeah, Mom," Rye said. "I can't wait to tell my friends about this. They're going to be so jealous."
"Mine, too," Willow agreed, "though to be honest most of them have already been at least once. If not more times. Clara Hawthorne's been six times, she says its because her uncle goes there so often, even though he works in District 2."
Willow threw these words out casually but inside my stomach swirled. Gale had probably told his children, if he had any. He was never one to shy away and be cowardly. Even if he might've killed Prim.
I think Peeta knew my train of thoughts, and so pulled the conversation away from any of the Hawthornes, and to the actual plan, which we had figured out on the way home from the bakery. Rye and Willow listened, and after he was finished, threw in our path a storm of questions.
"So our train leaves at 10:00 and arrives at 4:30?" Willow asked to clarify.
"Yes," I said, "and the train back has the same times, just three days later."
"And we get to miss a day of school?" Rye asked excitedly. Peeta and I both nod. "Awesome!"
"What will we do when we're there? I mean, we can't just go to the Capitol of Panem without any idea what to do when we're there," Willow pointed out.
"Well, yes, we can't." I agreed. "But you have to remember your father and I have some business to take care of while we're there, too, and so we can be just touring all weekend."
"What business?" Rye asked.
"Job stuff, probably," Willow answered. "Does Dad bake cakes for the president or something? That'd be really cool."
Peeta laughed, "No, I don't bake cakes for the president."
Both Rye and Willow looked a bit disappointed at that. But they perked up at Rye's next question. "Do you know the president?"
I looked at Peeta. Peeta looked at me. It was not the time for lies and deceit. It was time for honesty. "Yes, actually, we do."
"How?" asked Willow. This was another difficult question, one I wanted to avoid. Afterall, answering this one would mean answering all of them, and then all the cards would be on the table, and their innocence and ignorance would be forever lost. Just an hour ago I had sealed the deal by saying they could come to the Capitol but I hadn't actually considered what it would be like the moment I actually had to say what needed to be said. In fact, I had been hoping the whole thing would be held off until tomorrow. But no. Now was the time.
"Because your father and I are the representatives for District 12," I blurted out before my mind could stop myself. The two children, my two children stared at me, not quite comprehending what I had just said.
"Come again," Willow, confused, said.
"Your father and I are the representatives for District 12," I repeated more slowly, "You know, the ones who report how the district is doing, if there are any problems, shortages, etc."
Rye's jaw dropped. "So you - like - work in the government?" he asked.
"Yes and no," Peeta said. "We help out and participate in government, but we don't actually work for the government."
"That's basically the same thing," Willow pointed out. "But it doesn't matter. The real question is how did this happen? And why didn't you tell us?"
"We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to know about our - our pasts," I said, deciding the first question was the easier one to answer.
"Your pasts? What's so exciting about your pasts? You've told us about growing up in District 12, how bad it used to be, and how food was very scarce but you haven't told us much else," Rye said. I looked again at Peeta, hoping he'd answer this one. After all, he had always been the better public speaker, ever since the first interview in the Hunger Games, the one he had professed his undenying love for me in. The one that had changed and saved both our lives.
How that felt like just yesterday. But in reality, it was truly just the beginning.
To my relief, Peeta obliged, focusing himself on Willow.
"You told us you began learning about the Hunger Games," he said. "Do you remember how they started?"
"The districts rebelled against the Capitol," Willow said, "and in return the Capitol destroyed District 13 and -"
"Wait a second," Rye interrupted, "but District 13 exists today. That's where Grandma lives."
"We haven't gotten there yet, we haven't even started on the Revolution, but I think the Capitol destroyed the city, not the population. Have you ever wondered why most of the district is underground? Or why their justice building is in ruins?" Willow pressed him.
"No," Rye responded truthfully. Willow rolled her eyes, but turned back to her father.
"Anyways, before we were rudely interrupted," she shot a glare at her brother, "I was saying that the Capitol destroyed District 13 and began the Hunger Games, to remind everyone about the war annually."
"But what is the Hunger Games?" asked Rye. "Nobody's said."
"The Hunger Games," Willow explained, "was a fight to the death between children ages 12-18. Each district would randomly draw two names, one boy and one girl, to go into an arena previously set up by devious gamemakers and fight the other boys and girls until there was one survivor."
"That's disgusting,' Rye exclaimed.
"Yes, it is," I agreed. "But that isn't the point. The point is that this continued to happen annually for 73 years. Then, on the 74th Hunger Games, something happened."
"What?" asked both Rye and Willow.
"Your dad and I were reaped," I said.
There was a deafening silence. Neither child knew what to say. The idea of their two parents fighting to the death just seemed amazing to them. Finally, Willow spoke up, though in a barely audible whisper.
"You guys were in the Hunger Games?" she asked. We nodded, and I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, which just proved the emotion of the moment. I, Katniss Everdeen, never cried. Except, of course, on the rare occasion.
"But - but," Rye said, "Willow just told us there could only be one Hunger Games victor."
"We were the exception," I said.
"All because of your mother. She couldn't stand the thought of living without me," Peeta said, trying to bring humor into the mood. I decided it would be best to play along.
"I could too," I said, "The only thing that was going through my mind in that moment was that I was not going to let the Capitol win."
"Ahh, yes. Cover up your love act with the Captiol, but the old trick won't work on me. I know why you pulled out those berries."
"Berries?" asked the children, confused.
"At the end of the Hunger Games," I explained, "your father and I were the last ones standing. Neither of us wanted to kill the other, not to mention I didn't want the Capitol force me to do anything, because that was what they were doing. They were making us choose who would die and who would live. And so, I took out deadly berries thinking, either we both live or we both die. Sometimes, if I'm being honest, I wish I had eaten the berries. Life would have been a whole lot -"
"Katniss, your getting off topic," Peeta interrupted.
"Oh, right. Anyways, just before the berries reached our tastebuds, the commentator announced we were the winners, and that was that."
"Except it wasn't," Peeta said, smiling. "Boy it wasn't."
"What happened?" Rye asked.
"The Capitol was angry. I had defied those who were supposed to control us, supposed to be able to stop us from messing with the rules. In short, I had sparked the fire of a revolution," I said.
"How did you survive?" Willow asked, wide-eyed.
"We pretended to be hopelessly in love," Peeta said.
"Correction," I said, "I pretended to be hopelessly in love. You acted normal."
"But weren't you in love with Dad, Mom?" Rye asked. Seeing his parents now, he couldn't imagine them not in love with each other.
"Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. Not even I knew the answer to that."
"Nah," Peeta said, "I'm pretty sure you liked Gale."
"Gale?" the children asked.
"Gale Hawthorne," I explained, "he's Clara's uncle. The one whose always in the Captiol."
"You used to be in love with Clara's uncle?!" Willow exclaimed, incredulous.
"It does sound a bit odd now, doesn't? But before the Hunger Games, everyone expected it. And then your father came along, confusing everyone, and then I was engaged -"
"To Dad, right?" Rye asked.
"Yes, to your dad. But trust me, if there's one thing I know for certain, I didn't want to be. I was scared of marriage. Marriage meant children and children meant watching them go through reaping, and possibly the Hunger Games," I explained.
"This is all very interesting," Willow said, "but you haven't gotten to the part about becoming the District 12 representatives."
"Yes, well, the next year there came a Quarter Quell," I said.
"The 75th one," Peeta said.
"And for the twist the reaping would be only for the existing victors of previous Hunger Games. And since I was the only girl victor from 12, that meant I was going in. But I wasn't going in alone. Like the last year, your father was coming with me," I said.
"And so we went in, but this time we had allies from other districts," Peeta said. "We didn't know at the time, but they were there to protect Katniss and get her safely to District 13 so that they could use her as the face of the revolution, the Mockingjay, they called her."
"Mockingjay?" asked Willow, "Why mockingjay?"
"In the Hunger Games, I wore a pin from my friend, Madge. It had a mockingjay on it and during the revolution the rebels used it as a symbol to fight and fight hard. It was their way of encouraging the districts in their rebellion."
"What about Dad? What was he doing during all this?" asked Rye, looking at his father with a questioning gaze.
"The Capitol had kidnapped me," Peeta explained. "They hijacked my brain and made me think that your mother was evil and bad."
"Why didn't they just kill you?" Willow asked, "wouldn't that have been easier?"
"To get rid of him, yes," I said, "but they didn't want to get rid of him. Instead, they wanted to use him."
"Use him?" asked Rye, "for what?"
"They thought if he was punished every time I encouraged the districts, then I wouldn't do it. And they were right, because by that time I'm pretty certain I loved your father, even if I didn't want to admit it."
"Wow," Willow said, "the Capitol was pretty smart to think that."
"Yes, they were."
"So what happened next?" Rye asked.
"She beat the Capitol, of course," Willow said. "She won the revolution, freed Dad, and after all they did for Panem, were offered to be the representatives for District 12."
"In a broad, vague way, yes, Willow. That is what happened," I said, deciding that it was best to not go into the gory details and instead finish the conversation. But despite wanting the conversation to end, I was glad I had had it. Had conquered it. Because now I felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulder and from the look on Peeta's face, I'm pretty sure he agreed.
"Thanks for telling us, Mom," Willow said. She was looking at me with her friendly blue eyes, the same eyes as Peeta, and seemed to know, just like her father always did, what I was thinking. "I know you were worried about telling us."
"Your welcome, Willow, Rye," I said, smiling at my children. "And your right. It took a lot to talk about my past like that, but I'm glad I did."