Katniss
With cold and stiff fingers I clumsily reach into a box of long matches and strike one against the river stone of the hearth. Touching the flame to the kindling piled in the back of the firebox, the dry timber catches quickly. I'm freezing, so waiting for the kindling to fully catch seems to take an eternity. Finally, it's ready. Piling on a few small logs, I smile greedily down at the growing flames and scoot closer on the hearth to the heat source. I hold my icy digits to the orange and yellow tongues of fire licking at the logs and revel in the thawing sensation. The thirty minutes I spent in the pouring rain hiding in Peeta's bushes this morning really did a number on me. I'm chilled to my core, and I can't seem to get warm. Goose flesh prickles my arms and I shiver. Glancing over at the rocking chair in front of the fireplace, I look for a light blanket I sometimes fold across the back. The blanket isn't there, but one of Peeta's sweaters is. Despite my reluctance to leave my preach near the warmth, I dart over and grab the garment. Yanking it over my head, the soft gray-blue wool falls loosely around my small frame, landing around mid-thigh. Reaching a hand behind my head, I pull the attached hood up and cover up my still-damp hair. As I settle back on the hearth, I catch the slightest scent of dill and cinnamon, a smell that is uniquely Peeta. Between heat and sweater, I begin to warm; but it's the scent of Peeta enveloping me that helps me relax for the first time since my nightmare.
Taking the poker, I gently rearrange the logs and add another large piece to the blaze. Now that my fire is happily crackling, I tuck my knees up and under the sweater and rest my chin on them. My gaze lazily follows sparks as float up the flue and I sigh drowsily. I'm close to nodding off when muted mews, followed by a persistent scrapping, pulls me reluctantly back to consciousness. At the window over the sink, Buttercup is looking at me through the rain-speckled windowpane looking anxious and annoyed. Unfurling myself from my perch, I curse softly as my bare feet hit the cold floor. I grumble and stomp over to the kitchen window to yank it open. Unimpressed with my irritation, Buttercup sits stone still on the sill and simply stares at me. I give the straggly cat a once over and notice he looks dry, except for his feet. "How'd you stay so dry?" I grumble, his reply is an unblinking glare. The cold morning breeze stirs my hair and I shiver. "Well, are you coming in or not?" I demand. He stares up at me for another second before deciding to take me up on my invitation. He casually saunters in before jumping silently to the floor. As I secure the window, Buttercup begins turning figure eights between my legs. "From distance and aloof, to cute and cuddly in under a second, you're a real piece of work you know that, right?" I mutter stepping over him and heading for the fridge. Taking out some leftover fish from last night's dinner, I squat down and put the plate down in front of the feline. Buttercup cautiously sniffs my offering and looks up at me clearly unimpressed. I laugh. "Really! This isn't good enough for you your highness?" I guffaw, giving him a scratch between the ears. "I suppose it's my own fault for feeding you bacon," I confess. "Well fuzz ball, Peeta isn't here so breakfast is on hold. It's this or you wait." I state. We're staring at each other when a knock at the front door startles us both. I glance toward the front room and back down at the cat. "Who can that be," I ask him as if he might answer. Peeta, Haymitch, Greasy Sae, and her granddaughter Sarah, are my only regular visitors and they come and go as if they live here.
Standing up, I head towards the front door, but whoever is out there must be impatient because they knock again. When I finally yank open and my eyes meet those of my guest, I literally stumble backward a few steps in shock.
"Good morning Katnip," Gale says smoothly.
I blink dumbly up at him, my mind racing. "What are you doing here?" I finally manage to whisper.
Seemingly unfazed, he just smiles that easy smile of his at me. "Well it's a bit of a story actually, can I come in so we could talk about it?" he asks.
I'm frozen in place, unable to reply as my brain appears to have lost its ability to communicate with my tongue for the moment. If I had to guess I bet I look as if I've seen a ghost.
Gale rubs the back of his neck and lowers his eyes to meet my unblinking ones, "If we are going to do this on the front stoop, maybe you should get a coat, it's kind of cool out here this morning," he offers gently.
At the mention of the cold, I shiver which seems to reconnect my brain and body. Pulling my hands further into the sleeves of Peeta's sweater, I nod my head and take a step back. "Sorry," I mutter, "come in."
Gale steps over the threshold and closes the door behind him. For a long moment, we simply look at each other, an uncomfortable a pregnant silence hanging in the air between us. He's just opened his mouth to speak when the sound of the back door opening and Peeta's easily identifiable footsteps entering the kitchen cut him off. Annoyance flashes across Gale's face and I'm instantly on the defensive.
In the kitchen, I hear the refrigerator door open, and items being moved around inside of it. "Katniss?" Peeta calls out casually.
"I'm in the living room," I manage to answer, my throat tight with tension.
"I brought you some cheese buns," he says, the smile on his face evident in his voice. "Oh, and I had an idea for the dinner tonight," he adds, the sounds of opening cabinets and drawers following him as he moves about the kitchen. I have a few oranges and I thought I might try making that orange sauce we had on tour. I know this is turkey, not those little squabs they used, but I don't think that it should matter much. What do you think?" he asks.
"Peeta, could you come in here please," I request as evenly as possible.
I hear Peeta make his way from the kitchen to the living room and when I hear his footfalls come to an abrupt halt, I steal a glance over my shoulder. He's standing in the kitchen doorway with a look on his face that makes my stomach tighten. With his jaw set and his eyes hard, he is successfully managing to look both angry and unimpressed at the same time. It's a look I know all too well, as I was on the receiving end of it a number of times during the height of his hatred for me. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and hold my breath in anticipation, but the look falls away quickly and is replaced with an eerily calm one. With slow deliberate steps, Peeta leaves the doorway and makes his way over to stand next to me. Foregoing social pleasantries, he gets right to the point. "What are you doing here?" he demands.
The irritation I spotted Gale's face moments ago has surprisingly vanished and well, he's now carefully neutral. "Peeta" he greets with a nod of his head.
Peeta doesn't return the greeting, instead he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Gale expectantly.
Looking from Gale to Peeta and back again, I note the fall in Gale's shoulders as he sighs. "I'm here because you don't read your mail," he says plainly. "The Capitol has sent a number of certified letters to the two of you, and Haymitch, over the past few months. You received them, right?"
Peeta and I glance at each other, and I swear I see one corner of his mouth lift in a smirk. I also have to bite back the smile threatens to spill across my face. Oh yes, we did get Capitol letters, at least a dozen of them between the three of us, we also really enjoyed burning them, unopened, one by one. "We get a lot of mail, we rarely look at any of it," I dismiss.
Gale raises an eyebrow at the fib, he, of course, knows me well enough to know when I'm lying, but he chooses not to call me out on it, instead he just sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I kinda figured it was something like that," he says under his breath. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he fidgets uncomfortably for a second before turning to Peeta, "Look, Peeta, I...I was really hoping I could talk to Katniss alone, do you think you could..um.. give us some space?" he stammers.
Peeta tilts his head a bit to the side as if considering the request, but after a moment he responds by simply sliding a few inches closer to me.
Gale's face flushes in irritation at Peeta's casual denial and he unwisely looks to me to step in and tell Peeta to leave. Yeah, that's not going to happen. Pulling myself up to my full height, I shake my head no. "You did say the Capitol's been sending letters Peeta and me, if that's the case then there's no reason Peeta shouldn't be here to hear what you have to say," I say evenly.
He throws up his hands, "Fine!" he exclaims, "but the letters went to all the victors of District Twelve so should we take this party over to Haymitch's?" he asks, his sarcasm not wasted on me.
Peeta, unfazed by the flippant response, easily redirects the conversation. "I just came from Haymitch's, he's out cold and won't be up for hours, but no worries Gale, Katniss and I can fill him in if the situation warrants it," he says smoothly. I glance over at him and my heart fills with admiration. Peeta has many gifts, but his ability to adapt to nearly any conversation and his way with words has always impressed me.
Gale scoffs. "Still a sloppy drunk, hu? I thought his time in thirteen dried him out."
Peeta's calm demeanor falters and I spot another of his gifts I admire coming through, loyalty. Haymitch may be a drunk but he's our drunk and Peeta will not allow any non-victors to pass judgment against him. "He's surviving the best way he knows how," Peeta says his voice low in warning.
"I don't see you and Katniss drinking yourselves to oblivion," Gale fires back.
This time, it's me who jumps to Haymitch's defense. "Gale, don't," I warn, "You have no idea what you're talking about."
Outnumbered by two annoyed victors, Gale wisely backs down. Putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender he manages to look somewhat contrite. "Alright, look... I'm sorry. Believe me, I didn't come all the way to twelve to pick a fight."
"Why don't you just get to the point of your visit then," Peeta suggests.
Gale collects his thoughts for a second before starting. "I've been sent by President Paylor to request your attendance a first annual District Gathering in June," he says, the words clearly rehearsed.
"District Gathering? What's that?" Peeta inquires suspiciously.
Gale waivers and suddenly I feel uneasiness coming off him. Peeta must feel it too because he takes another half-step closer to me. "It's what it sounds like, a gathering of the Districts, of their leaders and the remaining victors. The District leaders will be the representatives and the victors will be ambassadors. She believes that unless the districts are united and part of the decision-making progress the problems we are facing will only increase. She wants a united group of citizens to find solutions for a united country." he states passionately.
"And?" Peeta demands, clearly expecting a catch to this whole scenario.
"And she would like Katniss to attend as the Mockingjay," Gales says resolutely.
I go light head as the words process through my psyche, but before I can even react Peeta is standing protectively in front of me, his body tense. "What?! NO!" he growls between his teeth. I can't see his face, but I can see the look on Gale's, and he thinks Peeta is about to have an episode, but that isn't what's happening. Peeta is just in protective mode. With Peeta shielding me I take the moment to let my guard down enough to consider the implication of the request. Questions quickly line up in my head. Put on the mantle of the Mockingjay again? No, I couldn't, could I? After Coin, I promised myself I would never be used like that again, but that was then, and it was Coin who forced my hand. Back then it was become the Mockingjay, or watch Peeta and the other tributes die at the hands of Snow. Coin used people I cared about to get what she wanted out of me, I was just a tool to her. The fact that this request is coming from President Paylor does change things. I will never forget the day I'd stumbled upon Snow's prison cell and Paylor allowed me access to him, an act that provided me access to the full truth about Coin and my sister's death. "She has a right to everything behind that door", she had said. Paylor had trusted me, not the Mockingjay, just me, Katniss.
Conflicting thoughts are tumbling together in my skull when I see Peeta's hands ball into fists. I instantly snap into the present and instinctively reach out and place my hand on his forearm. For a split second, I stiffen at the contact but when I feel no shift in his mood, I let my hand drift down to encircle his wrist. "It's okay," I say in a low voice. He turns his head and looks at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm okay," I promise, giving his wrist a reassuring squeeze before dropping the hand to my side. He holds my gaze for a long moment before the muscles in his neck finally relax and his fists loosen.
"After everything that happened with Coin why would they even want her there, let alone as the Mockingjay? Peeta asks dubiously. "Plus isn't she sequestered here anyway?" he adds.
"She was pardoned six months ago, probably more of that mail you failed to read," Gale says evenly. "As for how people feel," he says looking to me, "once most folks got the facts about Coin, they tended to side with you, saying you preserved the sorely fought for freedom. There are some holdouts, in Thirteen, but they aren't as plentiful nor as fervent as they used to be," Gale states. "I guess Coin wasn't completely wrong to worry about the power you able to wield as the Mockingjay," he says evenly.
I can see Peeta's body stiffen up again. "Coin knew the power Katniss had before saving her from that arena! She never intended to keep her alive once she outlived her usefulness. Coin, Snow, it doesn't matter, they both used her to serve their own interests. So, tell me, Gale, how are President Paylor's plans any different?" Peeta asks cuttingly. Gale's eyes narrow and flash in anger and I know Peeta has struck a nerve. In a show of unity, and to hopefully keep this confrontation from coming to blows, I step out from behind Peeta to stand at his side.
"I long ago stopped seeing Alma Coin as a savior Peeta, she hurt people I loved too," Gale says, his voice low and tainted with pain. He glances only briefly at me, and I see Prim's name in his eyes. I look away quickly; I will not break down in his presence. Gale continues, "But, Paylor, she wasn't made from the same mold as Coin and Snow were. She never actually even wanted to be president. All she wanted was to help heal and mend our country, so she took the job. Now she wants to pass her victory into the hands of the citizens of New Panem. We as the people, need to help bring this new government up from its infancy, to make it into the country we fought so hard for!" He says his voice rising in passion.
Turning his eyes square on me, he continues his appeal. "Katniss, I know the idea of being the Mockingjay again is probably the last thing you want to do..."
Peeta snorts sarcastically and rolls his eyes. I catch his gaze and hold it, "Peeta, let him say what he came so far to say," I appeal softly. His eyes show his concern, but he nods his head in agreement.
Gail continues, "We all thought things were going to fall into place once the white flag was waved, but they haven't," he confesses. "The issues are numerous, people are hungry, sick, need basic supplies to live and we can't get resources to them on time; it's causing new unrest. The District Gathering will bring everyone to the table for solutions. Paylor calls it "cooperative governance". She wants to give every district a seat at the table to find solutions to things like, new laws, infrastructure, health care, distribution. It can work but it's a new and radical ideology and after so many years spent under the thumb of a dictator, it may be hard to get people on board. The Mockingjay, it's a symbol of trust, of hope. As an ambassador you and the other victors, can be there to support the people, encourage them to trust in this plan," he says, pausing to make eye contact with both Peeta and me before continuing, "You've already sacrificed so much, are you going to give up now?" he asks quietly.
"Don't do that," Peeta warns, his voice deep with malic. "How dare you come in here and guilt us, you have no idea what sacrifices we have to live with."
The tension in the room is nearly tangible. I see Gale's mouth open in rebuttal, and I raise a hand to stop him. Peeta is only seconds away from punching him, I can tell, he needs to stop while he's not bleeding. "Gale," I state, "this request asks a lot, and not just of me. Going to the Capitol for any reason would be complicated for all of us. Peeta and I are going to need to bring this to Haymitch, so we can..." Irresponsibly, Gale interrupts me before I've finished with my sentence. "Katniss, it's nice of you to want to consider everyone's feelings, but who are we kidding, this decision is yours to make. You're the Mockingjay! " Peeta's arm is raised when I step in front of him to glare up at Gale. To his credit, he flinches when he sees Peeta's looming menace. He looks down at me, and I can see the muscles in his jaw work under the skin, wisely keeping his mouth shut. Rage builds in the pit of my stomach, "What!?" I demand, " You can't be serious!? You did just give us a whole speech about how the Mockingjay AND the victors are needed or was that a lie?" I demand.
He swallows visible, and when he speaks, he's surprisingly calm, "No, I'm not saying that; I'm just pointing out…" he stutters groping for words, "Oh come on Katniss, Haymitch is a drunk! I understand taking Peeta's opinion on the subject, but Haymitch?" he asks in disbelief. "Honestly, Katniss, while Haymitch's presence would be appreciated, I'm guessing he's likely to be passed out for most of it!
Closing the small distance between us, I come to stand toe-to-toe with Gale. I tilt my head back to meet his gray eyes with my steel withering glare. "Haymitch spent 25 years in a living hell as a mentor! He drinks to forget but ya know what, it's never enough! It never can be enough, because that kind of horror becomes a part of who you are, forever. He'll never escape it or find a bottle deep enough to completely erase the memories etched in his brain of all those kids' deaths. So, I ask you, if he finds even the slightest amount of relief from being wasted who are we to deny him that?" I ask rhetorically. Gale looks like he wants to say something but he thinks better of it, so I continue my voice rising as I do. "I will also remind you that this "peace" our new government is working so hard to hold together was may possible in part the person you flippantly call a drunkard. It was Haymitch who made it even a remote possibility that both Peeta and I could get out of the 74th games alive. Then once we were out, he helped me to learn to play the part I needed to, and that spurred on the unrest in the districts. He didn't stop because of the quell, no he used it solidifies the image of Coin's Mockingjay. He got me out of the arena and then stood by me, coached me, and helped me to hold it together for the propos when I would have preferred to hide away in a closet. Without Haymitch, there would have been no star-crossed lovers, no star-crossed lovers, no uprisings, no uprisings, no quell, and no rescue mission or Mockingjay. In short, probably no war. No freedom. So, I recommend that going forward that you remember that you're speaking of a war hero when you say his name," I spit out on the brink of fury. I feel Peeta's palm quickly squeeze my shoulder reassuringly and I take a shaky breath. As calmly as I can I continue, "Let me be super clear, IF I agree to do this, it will only be because ALL of us have agreed to it."
Gale's missteps regarding Haymitch has clearly thrown off his plans to woo me to the conference and he now seems a bit at a loss. He stares at me for a long time before continuing, "Damn, I suck at this," he mumbles, taking a step back to give me room to calm down. "I told them I would make a disaster of this, asked for them to send someone else, but as you know how it is, you don't pick your orders...especially when they come directly from the President," he sighs. Running hand over his mouth, he collects himself. "Look, it's simple, I need a response for the President. A simple yes or no is enough. I can't leave without," he states matter-of-factly.
The room becomes awkwardly silent, all happenings of the morning lie bare around us. It's Peeta who breaks the stalemate. "We are going to need time to discuss it," he says curtly.
Gale gives a quick nod. "I was hoping to get the 10 pm train tonight, but I can stay as long as you need me to. I will be in town today having meetings and doing inspections this afternoon, so you can just leave word with the front desk of the Justice Building once you decided," he says.
" We can let you know this afternoon.," Peeta states, clearly indicating that the conversation has come to an end and Gale should take his leave.
With his welcome worn out, Gale turns for the door but pauses when his hand lands on the knob. "Thank you for giving this request serious consideration," he says softly. Then without another word, he pulls open the door and disappears out into the morning beyond.