Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is following my story and leaving reviews!!

@nandy7781 You were the first one that reviewed! Here's your baked good and message from Peeta:

Hi @nandy7781! I baked you bite sized strawberry short cakes. They are favorites of my brothers, especially Rye. Katniss helped gather the strawberries near the Meadow. Hopefully, the cakes are as sweet as you are! Have a great day!

- Peeta :)

WELCOME PARTY

On one highly anticipated early morning, the train swoops into the main station of the Capitol. Peeta and I are now engaged, as we confirmed it officially with Ceasar Flickerman during a virtual interview. As expected, the Capitol press reported the rumors after spotting the ring Peeta gifted me on my left hand when we arrived in District Four. It was Peeta's idea for us to remain subtle. With both felt already awful about the idea of shoving the engagement in the Districts' faces when they are mourning. It would very disrespectful. So, we only revealed the ring in public until the Capitol became so overwhelmed with excitement about our possible nuptials that they practically threatened Ceasar to coerce the truth out of us. I know this because it became a joke Ceasar found hilarious when he interviewed Peeta and I.

Now, I lay here curled up against Peeta's side, my face level with his rib cage. I watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, thinking about how I might wake up every morning like this. At least, I chose this arrangement for us and Peeta agreed. However, I don't know if this will continue once we return home. I never pictured that I could possibly live in the same house as Peeta. I try to imagine moving all of my things into the bedroom in his place, but then I get sad thinking about Prim and my mom, so I forget about it.

Although, nothing inherently romantic has happened between Peeta and I, and I'm not sure if it ever will, it's nice having someone here to help with the nightmares. I hoped, at first, that I wasn't taking advantage of Peeta considering his feelings, and I felt guilty for being so selfish as to invite him into my bed only for comfort. However, Peeta confessed to me that he deals with similar night terrors and that I help him cope with his, too.

Despite this, I get a bit nervous thinking about what will happen to our relationship after the wedding. I have been trying to mentally prepare myself for how to address our arrangements. I desperately hope Peeta isn't going to expect anything sexual from me and that we can continue our strangely chaste sleeping situation. And he's not even my biggest problem, I've got Snow's demands to worry about. I'm not sure what he expects out of this marriage. I think I'd rather be dead than be forced to have a family in this country.

Peeta's eyes flutter open as the train breaks. He glances down at me, and for a brief moment, he smiles from pure happiness. My heart aches because I don't think I can fully return it. Good thing he catches himself and rubs a hand over his mouth.

"I guess it's time to get up," I whisper, trying to break the tight silence.

"Uh huh."

We are escorted in two black cars with luxurious interiors. Peeta, Haymitch, Effie, and I are ushered into the back of one as a crowd stands cheering outside of the train station. As we begin to drive off, I catch sight of a sign with my name on it, and a young girl holding it wearing yellow frills. She can't be no more than seven years old. I feel uncomfortable, so I slide down in my seat. They act like I'm some amazing celebrity, but I'm far from interesting. I hardly even talk during interviews, and the most they've seen of me was when I was fighting in the arena. Just the thought of that little Capitol girl being encouraged to watch me kill people on tv makes me ill.

Effie is going over the plans for our welcome party tonight in the Capitol's atrium, the original arena where the first ever Hunger Games took place. It's tradition to host the welcome party there for the crowned victor. I try to drown out her high-pitched voice and study the bizarrely attired people on the street until she scolds me for not paying attention to her. I'm about to shoot some remark at her, for I'm tired and eager to have breakfast at the hotel, but I resist because I remember what I have to prove to Snow.

"Sorry, Effie. I'll try to listen better," I apologize as amicably as possible. Apparently, once we eat breakfast today we will only have a few hours of rest before our prep teams invade our rooms to begin preparing for the party. Peeta and I both have to wear extremely formal attire and be on our best behavior because the press will be there. The big Victor ceremony and ball happens on Friday, so at least we have a day of rest and practice before we have to face Snow at his mansion.

We arrive at the Golden Pillar Hotel & Spa. It's "the finest in all of the city and with the most delicious menu!" as Effie puts it. The hotel lobby is so grand and wide open that our footsteps echo along the marble floor, that is until we reach the rich red and gold woven carpet. Peeta and I can't help but shoot each other glances to make sure that we are witnessing the same thing. Both of our expressions light up when we get to ride in a glass elevator similar to the one in the training center.

"You two look like a couple of kids ready to piss your pants with excitement," Haymitch remarks with a smirk.

"Now, Haymitch-" Effie begins with a look of distaste.

"Guess it's true, Haymitch. The Capitol still hasn't ceased to amaze us yet," Peeta cracks a smile, watching the ground floor disappear beneath us as we shoot upwards. As we get off floor fourteen, we bump into a tall bronze haired man with piercing green eyes.

"Oh, you must be Katniss Everdeen," he greets me charmingly, not a hint of a question in his voice.

"Uh, yeah, I am."

My eyes narrow, his face seems familiar.

"Finnick, how are you? Didn't expect you to be staying on our floor," Haymitch addresses him lightly as he tries to push us out into the hallway. Finnick shrugs nonchalantly, although with a hint of a smile on his face.

"Neither did I. Well, I guess I'll formally introduce myself to these two at the party later, Haymitch," he nods to Peeta and I just as the doors shut on him.

"Don't you guys worry about him right now. This way," Haymitch gestures us to follow him down to the left.

"Oh, that man..." Effie whispers dreamily as she trails behind us. I raise an eyebrow at Peeta and he points his thumb at Haymitch questioningly causing me to slap my hand over my mouth before I laugh. We both know she wasn't referring to Haymitch. Finnick, the Capitol hunk and rumored male escort to wealthy Capitol citizens, just ran into us. I guess his allure works on mostly everyone, especially someone like Effie.

I discover the delight of ordering breakfast to my room, in which case three silver trays overflowing with a variety of food options slide out from a small compartment in the wall. I'm so overwhelmed with the choices that I eventually go knocking on Peeta's door so he can help me decide. He brings over his own trays to my room because he's suffering from the same dilemma. We become nearly sick after trying a variety of muffins, scrambled eggs sprinkled with cheese and red sauce, fruits dipped in chocolate, sausage patties and maple bacon rolls. I haven't even mentioned the juices and flavored milks that arrived, too.

"That was too much," Peeta moans remorsefully as we lay back on the couch.

"Yeah, how about we skip lunch and just wait for the feast at the party?" I suggest, clutching my bloated stomach.

"Deal."

Peeta and I talk for a while, about hardly anything important. We try to steer away from mentioning anything to do with our current troubles or being in the Capitol. He tells me a few goofy stories about his brothers, Graham and Rye, and I tell him about some adventures with Gale and Prim, yet careful not to mention the woods in case there are listening devices around. Surprisingly, even a story comes out about my father.

"My dad... he actually loved parties, unlike me," I mention quietly. Peeta gives me an amused look.

"Well, that's surprising."

"Yeah, he loved people... celebrations... music and dancing... I guess, to him those were the only good things that you could hold onto despite all of the horrible things," I explain, a sense of warmth rising within me because it's true, despite the fact that I sometimes fail to believe it. Peeta is quiet, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"One time, when I was very young- I think about six-my dad had a surprise birthday party because he was turning 30... It wasn't anything like you would imagine a typical party to be, we only invited about ten people and all anyone could spare to eat was some cheese and bread and beans that we baked. Except, the one special thing was that my mom was able to scrape up enough money to buy some oranges in town to create a type of tart with the bread. She planned out the entire party and invited the people herself, even though she's terrified of that kind of stuff. She doesn't like planning big things or interacting with many people, even if they're people we know, but she did it all for my dad. His face... he was so happy when we surprised him. He had come home from the mines, all dusty with blackened hands, but I could see his wide white smile beneath all of the grime. I forgot about all of our problems that day, I even forgot that I lived in Twelve."

That part makes me smile because I was still young enough to be free from most cares and dream of pretend places. On that day, it was easy to pretend, especially when everyone was full on good food and dancing to the sound of my father and his friends' voices as they sang folk tunes.

"I love that story, Katniss," Peeta murmurs, his eyes shut with a calm expression, I assume imagining the scene I have just described for him. "I actually don't think I've ever had a party like that," he adds, which surprises me.

"Really?"

Peeta shakes his head. "Not for me, at least. I remember we did a big birthday party for my oldest brother when he turned eighteen, he's sort of the favorite," he mentions with a shrug. "If course, we had cake and stuff, but my mom doesn't care for loud music and dancing. She just prefers to gossip with her other village friends," he notes with a hint of bitterness. I feel a twinge of sadness for Peeta, for his sour mother and his family's strange relationship with her. My relationship with my mom hasn't been great over the past few years, but she's not a cruel person, nor a gossip, and she would never dare hit my sister or me.

Peeta suddenly lights up. "Hey, maybe when we get back home, we can do a nice party in Twelve, the way we like to have parties. You know, with not too many people, but enough to have fun. I could make the cake, we could get that one fiddler from the Seam to come and play. The living rooms in our houses are plenty big for dancing."

Despite my usual dislike for events bigger than four, I slowly nod. "I... I actually think I might like that. It would be the first time we can afford a good party, and it would be for a bunch of people who can't and would appreciate it," I add, wondering to myself if I'll be able to experience again the same happy forgetfulness that I did when I was younger. But maybe that was only possible when my dad was still alive...

There's a banging on the hotel door and time slips away from Peeta and me because suddenly we have to get ready and go. He leaves my room, dragged away by his prep team as I am led to my bedroom by mine.

"Don't worry, Katniss, you'll see him again soon," Octavia winks at me.

Tonight, Cinna has strategically planned an outfit very becoming of a bride-to-be. My dress is a beautiful flowing blue thing, with billowing sleeves that fall off of my shoulders.

"You're very lucky tonight, look at the shoes I picked to go with it," Cinna pulls out a pair of blue silk slippers with ribbons. For once, I'm not wearing heels.

"Cinna, you are the most wonderful person in the world," I praise him as I slide the amazingly comfortable shoes on.

The final touches are my mockingjay pin and a hair piece with flowers and little fake blue birds. In every outfit, Cinna never fails to convey who I am. The mockingjay birds have become my personal symbol.

When I greet Peeta in the hallway, he's wearing a sleek suit with a tie that matches my dress. Haymitch joins us, decently cleaned up but perhaps already tipsy and Effie loudly announces her presence behind us with her usual heels.

"Ah, you both look simply dashing! Now, down to the cars," she urges.

We soon approach the glowing atrium a few blocks down, bright with gold and pink strobe lights shooting out from the circular roof. It's clear our entrance is highly anticipated because everyone cheers and screams our names when we emerge from the car and walk up the carpeted steps.

Peeta, the natural celebrity, I think to myself half annoyed yet half amused, gives a perfect grin and waves, yet he keeps a protective arm around me. The barricades set up separate us from the crowd, but the people push against it eager to catch any glimpse of us. I subconsciously tense in order to be ready to defend us in case someone knocks them down, but fortunately nobody gets that far.

It is equally as loud inside the atrium, but at least the screaming has stopped. We are greeted by silent doormen, Avoxes I assume, and guided through a tunnel lit with fairy lights. We enter a round open space filled with luxuriously attired people, an entire orchestra, and tables overflowing with food. My eyes travel upwards, and I realize that we are surrounded by rows of seats that climb higher and higher. It appears that the rows are closed off to the party goers. At the top, there is a large glass window that offers a perfect view into the night sky.

"Woah, this place is huge," Peeta whispers beside me.

"Yeah... the first games were held here," I murmur, and the two of us are just feeling the gravity of my words when we are approached by the Capitol guests. I feel like Peeta and I are getting passed around like shiny fascinating objects as we go from one important Capitol person to the next as they examine us, praise and compliment us, or just gape at us with awe and curiosity. Finally, we are left alone to get food at the three large buffet tables. I am grateful for once in my life that I didn't have lunch.

"Enjoying the appetizers, I see."

Peeta and I swing around, each of us holding our plates piled high, to see the charming District Four victor sauntering towards us.

"Welcome to the Capitol. I told your mentor that I'd introduce myself, I'm Finnick Odair," he initially holds out a hand, but then pulls it back with an amused look seeing that we don't have free hands.

"It's good to meet you. Uh, well, we are going to eat, but you can join us if you like," Peeta suggests, unsure of how else to lead the conversation.

"I think I'll accept that invitation. I haven't been around many fellow victors in a while. And all the same, you might prefer to talk to someone whose in the same boat as you, if you know what I mean," Finnick offers, a sincere expression on his face. Despite his initial cocky attitude, his words seem genuine. Peeta and I find the table where Haymitch and Effie are sitting. Two other individuals quickly join us, one older plump man with curly dark green locks curling over his sweaty forehead and a very young woman with flowing blond hair wearing a sparkling silver dress.

"Oh, good! I was wondering where you two had wandered off to. Peeta, Katniss, allow me to introduce you to Bilius Silverwood and Aeria Neptune. They were just absolutely determined to sit at the table with us," Effie beams, while Haymitch attempts to keep his composure beside her, but I can tell that he's already a goner because his eyes have glazed over.

Peeta sets down his food and chivalrously pulls out my chair, and we both settle beside the two strangers. Bilius extends a beefy hand tattooed with odd symbols.

"I practically out bid everyone in the Capitol to get this seat! You can call me Mr. Sil," he grins widely, shaking our hands very hard and fast. They paid money for these seats?

"This is my-uh-niece, she usually is my companion to these events!" He gestures to the woman, who remains far more composed, but smiles at us.

"I can't believe that I actually get to meet you two. What a pleasure, what a pleasure!" Mr. Sil continues, his voice booming even over the orchestra music. His is very chatty. Peeta and I try to be polite between conversing with him and eating, but we are both immersed in the food.

Finnick Odair joins us, settling between Haymitch and me. Bilius Silverwood seems to grow ecstatic when he sees him.

"Finnick! What luck that you'd join this table? There was only one empty chair left, and I was wondering just who would snatch it! You see, Miss Everdeen and Mr. Mellark, Finnick is one of my most trusted business partners," he explains proudly. Haymitch utters a low grunt at this. I glance at him and kick his leg under the table because he's tilting forward dangerously over his lamb stew.

"Yes, Mr. Sil and I go way back. You need someone to show you the ropes around the Capitol," Finnick elaborates, his eyes flickering for a moment over to Aeria, who is quietly eating her food and doesn't seem to desire to join the conversation. I don't blame her.

"Ah, indeed, sir. You two lovebirds are different cases, however, because our dear President has informed me that you intend to get married as soon as possible. Why, you won't have much time to muddle around in the Capitol when you've got each other and possibly a family to think of," Mr. Sil gestures. I almost choke on my cheesy potatoes and I grab my glass of wine so I can flush it down quickly.

"Yes. The President is one of the few people that we confide in about our personal plans," Peeta covers for me, placing a hand on my back. I swallow, and despite watering eyes, I force a smile.

"How interesting? Well, the President is one of the most invested gentleman that I know. He takes deep pride in his victors and their lives after the games. Take Finnick, for example, he's the idol of the Capitol people!" Mr. Sil winks at Finnick, who smoothly answers modestly:

"Oh, don't brag about me, Sil. The people here are driven by fascination. It's not just me."

"True, true-what do you say, Aeria?" Mr. Sil acknowledges his niece beside him. "Are you not fascinated by the district people? Don't you want to know more about two people like Katniss and Peeta?" He probes, his words causing me to shudder.

"I-I suppose so. Your-your performances in the games were very inspiring-very brave," she admits, trying to force similar eagerness into her quiet tone and failing. Mr. Sil shakes his head helplessly at her, patting her arm.

"Not much of a talker, this one. But, she feels what I do all the same!"

Mr. Sil continues to carry the entire dinner conversation, with mainly Peeta, Finnick, and Effie commenting here and there. I've noticed that Haymitch is dozing and Finnick cleared his plate a long time ago, now tracing a finger around and around his wine glass and often glancing at Aeria.

Peeta can tell that I'm starting to lose it talking to these strange creatures, so after dessert he announces that my favorite song is playing so we must go dance. I grip his hand like a lifeline as he leads me through the crowd. We find an emptier spot on the floor, and I drape my arms over his neck, pressing my face to his shoulder. His hands find their way around my waist. I relax, realizing that I don't mind his touch. In fact, I find some comfort in it.

"Thanks for getting us away from that," I tell him softly.

"No problem, that was... wow..." He hesitates, contemplating whether or not to share his thoughts.

"What is it?"

"Katniss, I think-I think we just met a Capitol pimp," he reveals. A jolt of fear rushes through me. I lean back to study his face.

"You-you think so?" I sputter, although I suspect Peeta's right. The allusions to certain Capitol business, his treatment towards Finnick, and that girl... that tragic girl. Suddenly, I feel like we need to go back to the table and get her far away from Mr. Sil and out of the party. But I remember that these sorts of situations don't play out easily... I should know simply by witnessing the small circle of prostitutes in Twelve.

Peeta's brow is crinkled with concern, his eyes reflecting the anxiety I feel. The two of us are inches away from that man's grasp. Maybe Snow really is being plainly honest-Peeta and I marry each other and in return will be saved.