When Katniss and Haymitch entered the studio, Katniss's knees nearly gave way under her. On the huge screen in front of her was a man with dark hair and dirt-streaked olive cheeks. The video was paused so Katniss turned to Haymitch, her brow furrowed.
"What is this?"
"I reached out to some people for help, to track these down. I figured this would help you." Katniss edged closer and touched the man's face. Haymitch pressed a button and the man moved. He had a kindly smile and a gentle laugh.
"Katniss, come here my flower." A young girl toddled onto the screen, her dark hair in two braids. Katniss's eyes widened.
"This is my daughter, Katniss," the man spoke in a tone that was strong and confident. He pulled the little girl into his lap and kissed her hair.
"It's because of her that we need things to change. The millions of children around Panem need things to change. The Snow Administration has been poisoning Panem slowly, causing certain areas to decay faster than others. But if we leave it unattended, the country will die. The people will die with it. Look around your district. Are you happy with the way things are? Do you live in fear, every day, that your child's name will come out of a Reaping bowl? Or perhaps you have already lost a child to the Hunger Games. Two children, if you're twice as unfortunate. These atrocities won't stop until the Snow Administration has been wiped out." The man wrapped his arms around the child and started to rock her gently, humming softly.
"I hear a low faint voice that says, Papa and Ma are dead." Katniss closed her eyes and her lips started to move.
"And it comes from the poor orphan child that must be clothed and fed." The man positioned the child on his lap and pressed his forehead to hers.
"Think of the many children now, poor little boys and girls Who once had mother's loving hands to smooth their golden curls." The little girl was singing along with her father now, her fingers tugging at the dark braids that lay beside her cheeks.
"But now we see those wandering curls hang careless 'round their brow. They say to us my Papa's dead and I've no mother now…" The child reached her hand up to touch her father's face and Katniss's palm pressed against the screen.
"And it comes from the poor orphan child that must be clothed and fed. And it comes from the poor orphan child that must be clothed and fed." Haymitch watched Katniss sing along with her father, their voices so similar and soothing that he closed his eyes. When the song finished, the man smiled at the camera.
"My little songbird," he indicated his daughter on his lap. "Her mama don't like those types of songs but I say they're important to teach to our little ones. It's the life we're living. Orphaned children because their mamas and daddies are starving to death, or working themselves into the grave. Raise up your voice to join my song. Have the courage to stand with the rebellion." He glanced sideways at his daughter, then brought his finger to his lips before the screen went black. Katniss turned to Haymitch, her jaw open.
"He filmed lots of these. The older you got, the more involved you were. Your mother lost it when she found out. She said under no circumstances were you to be used as a political puppet, but Ash knew seeing a father and a daughter together in the meadow would touch people. And it did."
"Did he ever have Prim with him in these?" He hesitated for a moment.
"He talked about her but he never had her with him. Just his songbird. The heads of the districts who were a part of the rebellion were stunned by your voice. When you two sang together, it was otherworldly! I often sat nearby and listened while the film crew worked with him."
"You did all of this out in the open?"
"We were smart about it, Katniss. We had people keeping watch and the peacekeepers on our side made sure the meadow wasn't bugged or anything. We even did some of them in Victor's Village, because we knew it was safe." Katniss shook her head. Her father had died, hadn't he?
"So how did Snow find out? If you were so smart about it, why was he discovered?"
"Sweetheart, it's not that simple. You always have a traitor in your midst. As the idea of the Mockingjay got more popular, more people wanted to join the cause. We couldn't just screen everyone, we had to trust them. We were careful but we are... fairly certain we know who reported us to Snow."
"And are they still alive?" Haymitch swallowed thickly and Katniss's eyes flashed.
"Haymitch. Is that person still alive?"
"I think so," he said slowly. "I'm not sure if they made it to 13."
"Why? Why weren't they punished? They're responsible for all those miners' deaths! Including my father!"
"You gotta calm down, sweetheart," he reached out toward her but she jerked back.
"I want to know who it is."
"It won't do any good, Katniss-"
"You know who killed my father!"
"The Capitol killed your father! Snow killed your father!"
"Tell me who it is! I want to talk to them. I want to ask them why they told on someone in their own district… I assume they are from 12?"
"Katniss, this is… it's a lot more complicated than you think. It wasn't supposed to end up the way it did. The party involved… it wasn't about the revolution. Not really. It was more about revenge. And they didn't imagine the Capitol would retaliate the way it felt terrible after-"
"Anybody who reports a rebellion to the Capitol has to know it will end with death! Tell me who it is."
"Did you ever meet the Milliner?" Katniss snorted.
"I've never had any reason to go into a milliner's shop. We can't afford food, we don't need a hat."
"Ok. The man who runs the shop now inherited it from his father. Lester Farville. Lester had two sons and a daughter."
"What does this have to do with anything, Haymitch?"
"Hey, don't get snippy with me. You asked, now I'm answering." Katniss nodded and crossed her arms. Haymitch pulled her over to a chair.
"So Farville has two sons and a daughter," Katniss shrugged. "Do I care about their names?"
"Michael, who runs the shop now, Morgan, and Margaret." Katniss held up her hands in exasperation, clearly baffled, but Haymitch merely stared at her, as if trying to tell her something with his eyes.
"Where's our big star," a voice behind them made them jump to their feet. Plutarch opened his arms as if he was going to embrace Katniss.
"Someone passing down the hall said they heard someone singing in here. Said it was really beautiful, so I knew it had to be our Mockingjay."
"Actually, it was the former Mockingjay," Katniss waved to the screen.
"Haymitch told me he was going to track down some videos of your father! Katniss, you must record the songs and Cressida can align them with your father's! Two Mockingjays singing!"
"That's actually a great idea," Haymitch nodded. "You can watch the rest of these and learn the songs. I'll be back later to check on you." Katniss's eyes narrowed as he rushed out of the room.
"Don't think you're getting away from me that easily, old man," she muttered under her breath.
Finnick and Annie refused to break their grasp all the way down the hall, even when they ran out of space. When the hall became too narrow, Annie would step in front of him and drape his arm around her neck, their fingers still entwined. Finnick smiled and kissed her cheek, making her giggle, which in turn would make his heart soar. They had never been allowed to be this open with each other. Even when they were home in 4, they were always being watched and Finnick did everything he could to keep her safe from Snow. Now they were finally getting married and he still couldn't really believe it.
They passed one of the studios and he heard a man singing. He stopped, squeezing Annie's hand to stop her as well. They listened for a moment and a woman's voice joined in with the man's. Finnick put a finger to his lips and peered into the studio. Katniss was sitting spread-eagle on the floor, her face tilted up at the screen. Her lips were moving and her eyes were closed. She looked more at peace than he had seen her in a long time.
He gently knocked on the door, not wanting to startle her. Katniss looked over her shoulder and jumped to her feet.
"Hey."
"Wow, he really does have a mystical voice," Finnick nodded toward the screen. Katniss crossed her arms over her chest and nodded.
"You sounded amazing too, Katniss," Annie said with wide eyes.
"Thanks. Plutarch wants Cressida to do something where she has my dad and me singing together. Thinks it will stir people."
"It definitely will," Finnick nodded. "People need to be engaged, and hearing both Mockingjays will definitely do it!"
"Speaking of engaged," Katniss's eyes flashed. "How come I'm the last one to know that you're getting married?"
"Oh, we wanted to tell you, Katniss! It's just, with the mission to the Capitol… and Peeta…" she trailed off, biting her lip.
"I'm happy for both of you," Katniss said firmly. "You deserve it."
"Thank you," Annie said warmly, squeezing Katniss's hand. "I have no idea what I'm going to wear! I suppose our coveralls will have to do."
"You know, I am getting ready to do a propo in 12. I could bring you back something...if anything survived. Peeta bought me several dresses before we left for the Capitol. They aren't fancy at all but they're not coveralls. And we are about the same size."
"That's so kind of you, Katniss," Annie squealed.
"You're going to 12," Finnick asked in surprise.
"Coin wants to show Panem what the Capitol did to 12. And I want Peeta to see. If he doesn't recognize the place he grew up, where he saved my life, there's no bringing him back. I have to try."
"I'll go with you, as a bodyguard." Katniss shook her head.
"You should be planning your wedding to the woman you love. I'll be fine. Gale and Rory will probably go with me. 12 was our home, after all."
"Just be careful." She nodded and he patted her shoulder. She turned back to the screen and resumed the video. The studio was filled with the coal miner's rich voice and Finnick was captivated for a moment.
"We must rise up against the Capitol that has oppressed us for so long," Ash Everdeen said in a clear, angry voice. "We must stoke the flames of rebellion. Do not let the Capitol continue to silence us. Join in our song! Join the revolution!"
"I can see why he wanted you to continue his work," Finnick said softly.
"I wish I was more like him."
"You already are, Katniss. You're already the Mockingjay."
Peeta wanted to avoid Lavinia at all costs, but he had been ordered to start packing, and Peeta didn't disobey orders. He gently knocked on the bedroom door and cleared his throat.
"Sorry Lavinia, I just need to get in to find a suitcase." She opened the door, her brow furrowed.
"Suitcase?"
"I have orders to leave immediately. My apologies, I won't be able to escort you to dinner tonight." He pushed past her and went to the closet.
"Orders from whom?"
"President Snow. He's ordered me to deal with the refugee camps that have been built from here to District 12."
"Deal with," Lavinia said faintly. "You mean murder."
"He wants me to eliminate any threat of a rebellion," he said firmly. "This means eliminating the people who are likely to engage in rebellious activity." Lavinia shook her head in disgust.
"Do you have any idea of who you were before… all of this?" Frowning, he looked up at her.
"All of what?"
"The Capitol. The Peacekeepers. What they did to you, all those years ago." Peeta stood slowly and gripped his bag.
"What are you talking about?"
"You weren't always a peacekeeper, Peeta. You were good and decent and kind. And then the Snows twisted you and made you into… this," she gestured toward him, her nose wrinkled in anger. She turned away, shaking her head and he wanted to reach out toward her but a voice in his head made him pause.
"When you put that uniform on, it's like...like you become someone else...someone who is cold and calculated and works for the man I despise." Peeta looked at his hands and back at Lavinia. Somehow, he knew it wasn't her voice he was hearing in his head.
"I have to find a way to separate the two, to remember that it's really you in there and not a cold-hearted monster." He hadn't always been a monster. Lavina told him but someone else had told him that before. Someone who cared a great deal about him.
"I told you that you're good and just, and I still mean that but it's strange to see that side of you."
Peeta shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.
"You're good, Peeta, and kind and generous. You're not this cold figure the Capitol has twisted into some kind of-" Peeta waited for the unknown voice to finish her thought.
"Some kind of what?"
"What," Lavinia didn't even glance his way.
"I just… never mind." He watched her twist her wedding ring nervously. He searched his memories, anything to tell him that she was telling the truth. In some way, he wanted her to be telling the truth. It would make things much easier. Because if this was all a lie, he was about to embark on a very dangerous path.
"Are you going to tell me?" Lavinia glanced at him over her shoulder.
"Tell you what?"
"Who I really am." She turned to face him and exhaled deeply.
"I can't do that, Peter. Only you can answer that. I just know you're a better man than this. Murdering innocent people isn't who you are and the first part of knowing who you really are, is by questioning what you think you know." Peeta's head was spinning.
"You can come with me," he offered. "Get away from all of this. Whatever he has on you, I can protect you."
"No you can't, Peter. None of us are ever really safe." He approached her and she found herself craning her neck to look up at him.
"You can tell me the truth," he whispered. "Set both of us free." Her eyes filled with tears as she opened her mouth to speak. She exhaled sharply and took a step back.
"You're still talking nonsense. Have a safe trip and I'll see you when you get back. Perhaps you will be a father when you return." He swallowed thickly, his eyes drifting down to her belly.
"Perhaps. If I were the real father, though, I imagine you would be fighting harder for me to stay with you." She gasped as he turned back to the closet and started to shove clothes into his bag. He rose and left the room without another word.
Peeta nodded to the driver as he passed over his bag and he slid into the back seat of the car. Halfway down the road, the driver paused and pulled over.
"General Mellark, there's a call for you, sir." He took the device from the driver and held it to his ear.
"Mellark."
"General Mellark, this is Minister Antonius."
"What can I do for you, Minister?"
"I'm sending you the latest footage of that cursed Mockingjay. Your travel plans have been altered. Since her current location is confirmed, your flight plan has changed. Your orders are to capture the Mockingjay and bring her back to the Capitol, alive. If you cannot do this safely, we expect you to deal with the situation yourself." Peeta swallowed, his grip on the device tightening.
"Understood sir. Where is she now?"
"District 12."
