It's obvious what's about to happen. I've heard stories about threesomes from some of the parties we've attended. When these people from the Capitol become so bored by being with one person, they'll actually try being with even more partners. Three, four, five. Sometimes they'll engage in sex parties and spend the evening with multiple partners. I wonder if that's what Plutarch has in plan for us tonight. Does he intend to actively participate in whatever he makes us do? I try my best to shove the thought away and hope for the best, whatever that is.
"Katniss. Peeta," Plutarch says as he joins us in the main area. "Take a seat." We exchange a glance, then cross, hesitantly, over and sit on the very edge of the bed. Peeta's hand does not leave mine for a second.
From his chair, Finnick Odair watches the whole thing with a grin. I'm surprised he seems so laid back about whatever he's about to be involved in. But maybe he just knows how to survive. Maybe we could both learn something from him.
"I'm sure you know why you're here," Plutarch says in a voice much louder than necessary. He begins pacing the room.
"I think that's safe to say," Peeta agrees.
"I have all kinds of plans for us tonight," Plutarch continues. "After all, it's a special night. Now the nation knows I'm to be Head Gamemaker."
Peeta and I are silent. Plutarch is walking in such a strange way - not pacing around in a circle, the way you would imagine, but darting here and there, seemingly randomly across the room. Like he's looking for something.
"That calls for a celebration," he says. "Nothing but the best of the best tonight."
Are we supposed to be flattered? Does he actually think we'd take that as some sort of compliment? I guess it is something people here in the Capitol would find flattering, but I don't have time to really become upset over it because Plutarch surprises us both by climbing up on the bed behind us. Shocked, Peeta and I twist around and watch as he walks to the head of the bed, and reaches behind the portrait that hangs over it. He pulls something out, and without explanation, hops down and hands whatever it is to Finnick, who doesn't seem disturbed by this turn of events in the slightest. Plutarch then heads back to the wall and continues examining the length of it, all the while continuing to explain his plans.
"We can start light. Katniss, maybe you could start out by suckling off Peeta." My eyes widen, and I can feel my cheeks grow warm. Despite knowing full well what kind of a situation we're in, and that this exact scenario will, in fact, play out in a matter of minutes, hearing it said out loud like that makes it all the more embarrassing.
"Then we can add in Finnick," Plutarch continues. "Maybe fondle her breasts and finger her or something. But make her wait for it." I don't look to Finnick to see what he thinks about these instructions, but if he has an opinion, he doesn't offer it audibly.
Peeta and I exchange a look. Then, without another word, Peeta removes his coat and places it on a nearby end table. Then he begins to unbutton his shirt. I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat, and look over to Finnick, who is watching Peeta, half-amused, half-alarmed. His eyes dart back and forth between Peeta and Plutarch.
Hearing Finnick's attempt to get his attention, Plutarch turns around, looking first to Finnick, before he spots Peeta. His brow knits together, and he lets out a sigh. "What are you doing, young man?"
Peeta stops, mid-button, and looks up at Plutarch Heavensbee. Now it's his turn to be confused. Actually, that makes two of us. "Aren't we… " He trails off, unable to finish the thought out loud.
It takes Plutarch a minute to figure it out. Finnick, on the other hand, understands instantaneously and bursts out laughing. "They think we actually brought them here to have sex with them!" He tells Plutarch. Understanding dawns on his face, now, too, and he starts to laugh as well.
That makes two of us, I guess, only Peeta and I are still entirely in the dark about what's going on. I feel something ease up inside of me, though, as I slowly begin to realize that maybe this isn't what it looks like. But that can't be real, can it? That's too good to be true, to think that maybe Plutarch Heavensbee, one of the most powerful men in the Capitol, brought us up here with Finnick Odair of all people, and doesn't intend to make us all engage in unspeakable sexual acts with each other. That isn't the Capitol's way.
But Plutarch's demeanor doesn't seem particularly malicious. "Please sit back down," he says to Peeta. "Would you like anything to drink? Or eat?"
I let Peeta speak for both of us. "N- No, thanks," he says as he rejoins me on the loveseat. I keep a firm grip on his arm. Maybe Plutarch and Finnick don't have plans to force us to do anything with them sexually, but I still don't trust either one of them. I only have one friend in this room. Whatever they have in store for us, it's vital that Peeta and I remain a team.
Plutarch turns back to Finnick. "I think I got them all. Is there anywhere else I should check?
Finnick shakes his head. "No. I checked the room over before you got here."
With a nod, Plutarch turns back towards us. "I'm sorry for scaring you with all that talk earlier," he tells us. "We had to make them think we were actually doing what they thought we were, so they don't become suspicious. It's important no one overhears us." He seats himself on the edge of the bed and clasps his knees. He looks over to Finnick with a smile, then looks back to us. "Katniss… Peeta… this is the Resistance."
There's a moment of dead silence as his words sink in. "The what?" Peeta finally asks. We look at each other, neither of us sure we heard him correctly.
"The Resistance," Finnick finally weighs in, looking serious for the first time since this conversation started. "To fight back against the Capitol for what they're doing to us." I lock eyes with him, and the memory of that conversation we shared on the roof comes back to me.
Something electric runs through me. This can't be real. "No. That can't be true," I say, exchanging a glance with Peeta.
"I assure you it is," Plutarch says with a chuckle that rubs me the wrong way. Does he think this is some kind of game? Messing with us like this?
I feel Peeta link his arm through mine. He draws me closer. "If this is some kind of test, you don't have to worry," he says. "We're planning on doing everything we're told." At first, I'm outraged at his words, because I want nothing more than to find a way out of this. But then their full impact hits me. And I realized he's right. This well could be a test, a way to make sure we're not planning anything. It's not all that off the mark, I guess, especially if we've succeeded in making them hear us when we've… Well, if this is a setup, then he's right. We have to be careful.
"It's not." This time, it's Finnick who speaks, his voice sounding much more somber than Plutarch's. He looks me in the eyes again, as if he's begging me to remember our conversation. To trust him. And it's entirely against my better judgment to do so, considering everything I know to be true about Finnick Odair… but I do.
"How- How do we know you're telling us the truth?" I ask, still clutching tightly to Peeta's arm.
Plutarch smiles. "For starters, we're not going to ask you to take a stitch of clothing off. Please, take a seat," he says, motioning towards a set of chairs facing him and Finnick. Peeta and I exchange another look, trying to work out if it's really a good idea or not. But what choice do we have? Somewhat reluctantly, we move towards the chairs and sit down.
"Would you like anything to eat? Or drink?" Plutarch asks, motioning towards the same kind of ordering system I have in my room back at the training center.
"I'm not very hungry," Peeta says, a hard look in his eyes. "Are you, Katniss?" I shake my head.
"Well, then," Plutarch says as he settles back in his seat. "I guess we might as well get to the heart of the matter, then, hmm?"
I feel sick to my stomach. It's like I'm right back in the study with President Snow. But if what they're saying is true, then that doesn't make any sense. Because this might be our out, right? Shouldn't I be feeling the exact opposite of what I felt that day in the study?
"What do you want with us?" Peeta just comes out with it. I flinch, expecting some sort of backlash, but it never comes. Maybe it's better that it's out there in the open. Finnick and Plutarch don't look particularly upset, at least.
"To help us," Plutarch explains simply enough. "You two could be of valuable service to the rebellion."
"How?" I ask, feeling immediately defensive. Isn't this precisely what President Snow warned us against? What we were supposed to try and prevent? And now, his own head Gamemaker is sitting here, trying to convince us to help in some kind of secret rebellion. Peeta was right to be concerned.
"Information," Plutarch answers. "You've already been with some powerful people. Maybe you don't realize that. But you're bound to be with even more down the line. They might tell you stuff. Things you can pass on back to us."
Something sparks inside me. Something about what Plutarch is saying feels true. But I can't trust him. Not yet, anyway. I can't really trust anyone, except for Peeta. And Snow's warning weighs over me. It's the kind of thing I can't afford to forget. So, to play it safe, I remain quiet.
Fortunately, as always, Peeta does know what to say. "What makes you think they'd tell us anything?"
"Oh, they'll talk," Finnick says cynically. Both Peeta and I glance over to where he's strung out across his chair. He isn't even looking at us, focusing, instead, on a fancy pastry he's carefully pulling apart before stuffing each piece in his mouth. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if Peeta has ever made anything like it for the bakery.
"Yes. Finnick here has been doing it for years," Plutarch says like it's nothing. Like Finnick hasn't been forced to prostitute himself out, all for the sake of one man's ego, and now, I guess, the hope of some sort of information.
Neither Peeta or I say anything, but I can tell he's feeling as skeptical as I do. "And you think we could get them to talk to us?" Peeta finally asks after a weighted moment of silence.
"You can if you work them right," Finnick pipes up. "You have to really romance them. Make them feel special. Remind them what a privilege it is to be with you. Then they'll talk."
Plutarch pulls out a watch and glances at the time. It's the same watch I remember him showing me at the party where this all began. And suddenly, it clicks in place for me why he would have such a secretive image of my mockingjay on it. He's telling us the truth.
"There isn't much time left," Plutarch tells us. "Will you help us?"
"Yes." It's out of my mouth before I can even think about it. Peeta gives me a confused glance. He doesn't understand why I'm so quick to agree to this. To trust them.
"Excellent," Plutarch says. And then he's suddenly ushering us out of the room. It's time to return before anyone becomes suspicious.
"You agreed to that fast," Peeta says to me once we're out in the hallway. He's careful to keep his tone neutral, but I can tell he's dying to know why.
"He's telling the truth," I say back just as casually.
"How do you know?" He asks.
I glance around us. It's not safe out out here in the hallway. Eyes and ears could be anywhere. "I'll tell you later," I say. This is the kind of conversation that's best had back in the safety of District 12. If you can call that safe.
He nods, and we continue down the hallway in silence, hand in hand.
When I come to in my bed the next morning, it's because Effie is rapping on my door. "Time to get up!" She sings from the other side, "it's another big, big, big day!"
I extract myself from the tangle of Peeta's arms and groggily push myself up. Peeta murmurs, and his eyes flutter open. "What does Effie want?" He asks in a sleepy voice.
Perplexed, I wrinkle my eyes. "I'm not sure," I say. "Did we have anything on our schedule today?"
"Not that I recall," he says.
As it turns out, we've been scheduled for physicals with the Capitol doctors. Effie explains this when we finally emerge and join her for breakfast. I can tell by her expression that she doesn't think much of the fact that we're still sleeping together, but she doesn't voice it.
If you only knew, Effie.
"Doctors visits? Really?" Peeta asks.
"Nothing but the best for our victors," she says in response. "They all get a physical once a year."
A few hours later, I'm sitting in the cold, sterile room of one of the Capitol's top physicians. The preliminary examination went well, and now we're just waiting for the results of some tests they've run. It seems to be taking a long time, though. As I sit listening to the indistinct voices of what sounds like a serious discussion outside my door, I wonder if Peeta's exam is taking a long time as well.
Finally, the door opens and the doctor, a woman in her thirties with skin a light shade of purple, enters the room. Her face is friendly and lit up with a bright smile as she secures the door behind her.
"Miss Everdeen, everything is normal on your test results. But we did find one big surprise."
Instantly, my hair stands on end. "What?"
Her grin grows larger. "Miss Everdeen, it seems you're pregnant."
AN/N: Whoa, what's this? An update?! Yeah, I'm sorry I all but abandoned this story for two years. They were an interesting two years and a lot happened. But here we are at last, and I should be able to provide another update soon.