Katherine
He stands before me, a sword in his hands, a challenging look in his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches. He swallows, and adjusts his hold around the hilt. A cold whisper runs down my spine at a very slow pace, and I straighten my back.
The two swords meet with a dry clank. We both push back to then meet again at the center of our circle. He deflects my stroke at his left shoulder, and aims for my hip. I spin out before the blow hits me, but he quickly recovers, and his sword grazes my upper arm.
"Stop!"
I wake up from the day-dreaming. Finnick puts distance between Gale and I, pulling me aside for a moment.
"Quick advice: don't forget your enemy. You can only breathe in relief when you see him on the ground, wounded or dead."
I nod, and return to my position. I am still trying to understand Gale's choice to help Finnick teach me sword fighting. However, he does treat me politely and gives me one or two advices. Gale wipes the sweat from his forehead.
"Instead of spinning out, try to step back so you won't lose sight of me."
"Okay."
His sword strikes forward, and I quickly defend my face from the ugly blow. My heart races as he moves, slides, strikes and stabs every inch of me. I'm able to defend and attack at the same time, but my arms are getting tired. It hurts when I swallow, but I am not giving up until he lies on the ground.
The hilt of my sword is slipping out of my hands. My next move is sloppy, and I am suddenly thrown to the ground.
"Okay, enough!" Finnick pushes Gale away from me, and then helps me stand up. "This is pratice, not a real fight. Let's take a minute."
"Are your shoulders alright?" Gale asks, trying to calm his raging breath.
"They will be once I knock you down."
"That will take you a while."
The noise of the guards echoes around the courtyard, but I hear the footsteps of a stranger approaching Finnick. I stare at him, and wonder what makes his expression change from peaceful to worried. He walks to us and pulls me aside.
"Bad news. Another letter from the queen arrived, and Peter was there to see it."
I am not suprised he was there, but I am worried he will react badly to it. I nod and hand my sword to Finnick.
"We will continue tomorrow?"
"Yes."
I follow the man, and he leads me to the council chamber. I knock on the door and open it when someone tells me to enter. The king, his council, a young man I don't recognize, and Peter eye me as I approach the table.
"Katherine, I am certain you have been told the news." I nod. "The queen is asking for you in exchange for peace. I must deliever you to her in Saldrian in three days."
"Three days? She had said two weeks."
"It seems she had a change of mind."
The king hands a parchment to a member of his council, and they pass it around until it reaches me. I unroll it, and carefully read it. To my surprise, she delicately asks for me in exchange for peace instead of ordering it.
"She is playing a mind game as usual." I say, dropping the parchment on the table. "But if she wants me so badly, I will hand myself to her if it will bring the kingdom peace."
"We have talked about this, Katherine. You are not handing yourself over to her."
My eyes glance at Peter's hands. They fist the edge of the table too tightly.
"How can you work a plan in three days? That is madness! I should already be on my way to Saldrian!"
A fist on the table startles us all. I taste his anger the moment he walks by me. He leaves the chamber, and the council immediately comments about his rudeness.
"We will work a plan. In the meantime, don't even think about handing yourself over!"
I hesitate, but end up nodding at his request.
"You are dismissed. And call my son. I must have a word with him."
I leave the chamber and find Peter pacing back and forth along the hall.
"Peter?"
He stops. He glances at me, opens his mouth, but closes it. The anger in his eyes shines like lightning. I step aside to let him enter the chamber, and he closes the door without addressing me.
The door is too thick to hear their conversation. I undo the ribbon around my hair and fidget with it to pass the time. Ten minutes pass and finally Peter comes out. He isn't as angry as he was, but he still doesn't adress me and completely ignores me.
"You can't be angry at me for making the right decision!"
The silence stretches. Peter turns around, and his blue eyes regard me with disapproval.
"Why didn't you tell me about the first letter?"
"It wasn't necessary."
"It wasn't, Katherine?" He asks, incredulous with my answer. "I could have helped my father, and you hid it from me like a scared child."
"I wasn't scared of your reaction! I was trying to protect you. The decision was mine to make, not yours."
"It was also mine!"
"Your father told me not to tell you until he had worked out a plan."
"I would expect something like that from my father, but not from you. I thought the lies between us had ended, but it seems every accomplishment has been in vain."
"I don't trust you enough to reveal to you something so personal as that letter."
He moves forward, and our faces are suddenly too close. However, there is no desire to close the space.
"Do you regret those words?"
"I don't."
"Then consider yourself happy."
He leaves.
...
The sun has just reached its highest pick. I find Finnick, and demand that we train all afternoon. I release my anger on my strokes. They are precise and sloppy, but I knock Finnick to the ground three times. He knows not to tease me, not to trigger the fury in me.
Peter acts cold during supper. The king notices the quietness around his son, and trades a look with me. I shrug, and finish my meal.
It takes me a while to fall asleep, because of the emptiness and loneliness around my room. The darkness is disrupted by the clarity crawling through the opening between the curtains. My hand searches for a warm body on the space beside me and finds none. Later in the night I wake up in a puddle of sweat with memories of a nightmare. I bury my face in the pillow, and let out a scream, followed by tears of regret, anger, and disappointment.
...
My eyes follow the early morning light as it crawls down the floor. I can't sleep, I can't close my eyes. I can only think of the up-coming three days. How many innocent ones will she kill until I comply to her orders?
There is always the possibility to run away. I still have time to reach Saldrian and hand myself to her. I would be sparing thousands of lives, because thousands are more valuable than my miserable live. But if my life is miserable, why does she want it? What has been her goal all these years? She got the crown, the kingdom, the country, beauty, and still she hunts me.
A knock on the door. I see my maid entering the room, settling the objects in her hands on the table, and lighting a fire in the fireplace. She stands up, walks to the window and pulls the curtains to let more light in. She notices me watching her, and immediately smiles.
"Did you have a pleasant night, Your Highness?" She asks, pulling the curtains open.
"It was normal."
"I just encountered Commander Odair in the hall. He told me today's training was canceled. He apologises for not telling you yesterday."
"Canceled?" I turn in the bed to look at her. "Why? Did he tell you the reasons?"
"No. If you want to know, you have to ask him. He was headed for the Great Hall."
How does he expect me to go through the day as if nothing bad is going to happen in the next three days?
"Help me dress. I must talk to him."
I leave my room after I am presentable, the possible conversation between Finnick and I playing in my mind. The Great Hall isn't full, perhaps breakfast is still being prepared, and I easily find Finnick near the king's table. He is taken aback by my sudden touch when I pull him aside.
"Have you gone mad? Why did you cancel it?" I ask, furiously. "Answer me!"
"First, good morning. Second, why are you screaming at me? And finally, I am only doing what's best for you." He pats my shoulder. "We began yesterday. This has to be taken lightly. I don't want your bones to crack under the pressure, and then to be blamed for the princess's injuries."
"Are you calling me scrawny?"
He laughs, catching the attention of two people near the table.
"You may be thin, but it doesn't mean you are scrawny. You have endured so much, and here you are."
"So why cancel the lesson? I must learn every thing about sword fighting while I can."
"Rest assure you will learn what you need to know about sword fighting – Peter is coming our way."
I glance behind me, and catch his eyes on Finnick and I. I swallow, afraid to talk to him after yesterday, and after my restless night. Does he see the faint red in my eyes?
"Good morning."
"Morning, Your Highness." Finnicks greets playfully.
"You are always in a good mood, Commander Odair."
"There is nothing like seeing your closest ones every morning to put you in a good mood. I am going to find a seat. Good-bye."
Finnicks leaves, Peter and I are alone, and the mood goes from happy to awkward.
"Did you sleep well? I mean – Forget it!"
"I didn't. I realised my bed was too big for only one person."
"I must – I must apologise for my former words."
"Good. Is there anything else you want to add?"
"I would prefer if we could talk in some place more private."
"In the tower, after breakfast."
He walks by me without another word.
...
As I climb up the narrow staircase, the air turns icy and I notice the moisture and dust on the walls. I touch it, and my fingers come up clammy with tiny grains of dirt. I make out a door ten steps from where I stand.
I let go of my skirts, and open the door, hoping Peter is already in the room. He isn't. However, the room is occupied by very old trunks, some rusty weapons, and lots of dry branches crawling up the walls to the ceiling.
I walk to the window and stare at the view. The guards on the gardens look like drops of black ink. The same goes for the people scattered around the town. I spot some boats entering the port, and beyond the town walls I see a wagon transporting barrils of something.
The door closing catches my attention.
"I haven't been here in many years." Peter declares.
"I like the view."
"It is interesting." He walks to the window, and I quickly step away from him. He turns around to stare at me. "What do you want to tell me?"
My eyes inspect every detail of the room as I wait for the words to start the conversation. "Well, I already apologized for what I said yesterday."
"You did. Was that all?"
"No." I exhale. "There is more."
"Then say it."
"Okay. I have been taking lessons with Finnick to improve my sword fighting skills."
"I already know that."
"He is helping me prepare for the battle."
He takes it all in, and there is no change in his expression. Did he suspect it?
"Which leads me to the other subject. I am going to war."
He exhales deeply, and paces around the room.
"The first I didn't suspect, but the second one... I should have seen it coming. When the opportunity shows itself, you take it. There is no denying your death impulse."
"Death impulse? What do you mean? I am going to war to finally kill Coin, and you call it a death impulse. Do you even know what is like to be close to death? Do you actually believe I enjoy being near death?" I ask, angry at his oblivion. "You mustn't know me as well as you say you do."
"You got that right! Maybe I don't know you as well as I used to. I don't know this girl who loves sacrificing herself, who doesn't ask for help when there are dozens of people willing to help, who preferes the company of Silence, who lies."
"This is the real me. Haven't we had this discussion before?" I huff instead of grabbing something to throw at him. "You can't change who I am. There is no going back to the girl you knew three years ago. Why do you want so badly to change me?"
"I am not trying to –"
"Yes, you are!" I point my finger at him. "You want me to go back to the girl who asked for help when she could do it herself, who didn't lie and told every one her problems and secrets. You want a ghost."
"I want trust, Katherine. I want you to trust me. I want you to let go of your fears when you are with me. Am I asking too much?"
"Trust isn't build in two months, not after what happened in the past. It is going to take a lot of time for me to trust you completely." I lower my eyes. "And when I do, maybe I will accept your proposal."
"Oh! So that is your final response?" I keep my mouth shut, afraid to even consider an answer for his question. "Okay, at least that is out of the way."
"You talk as if it is a burden."
"I don't consider it a burden." He says. "But I will keep in mind your decision, and maybe when the time comes I will ask again. I hope by then there is trust between us."
I nod, not knowing how to answer. I can't have a relationship with him if I don't trust him. It can take years.
"Perhaps our relationship should remain as it is now." I say. The blue of his eyes lose its vivacity. "Just friendship."
"I thought our relationship was more than friendship." He runs a hand through his hair. "You are throwing away every progress we did in two months for nothing. You are playing with my feelings like you play with pebbles."
"It's better if the conversation ends here."
"Are you serious?" He asks. I don't answer back. He sighs and walks to the door. "Your mind is a mess, Katherine. You need to sort it out, because, believe me, nobody will do it for you."
He leaves. I stay.
...
I pull back the string and let the arrow fly. It misses the center of the target. I reach for another, aim it, and let it go. Six arrows and not one hits the center. Am I losing what I crafted year after year?
I walk to the target and remove the arrows, one by one. The last one stares back at me, five centimeters from the center, jesting at my poor attempt to hit the bull's eye. I snatch it from the target, and pin it to the center almost ripping the hay in half.
"I am sure that was meant to be someone."
I glance to my right. Finnick smiles sadly, one hand placed on his hip.
"I am still figuring out who it might be."
"What are you doing here?" Finnick asks, following me as I walk back to my spot. "Filling our canceled sword lesson with archery?"
"At least I am good at the latter." I give him a quick smile. "Actually, I am trying to keep my mind from wandering to unpleasant memories. I want to leave the castle, but I am not allowed without a guard."
"What about Peter?"
"We aren't getting along."
"How's that even possible?" Finnick chuckles humourlessly. "The first day you arrived you two were upon each other like two mad people. Now you aren't getting along? I apologize for asking, but what did you do to him?"
"You are blaming me?"
"Peter wouldn't be the one to ruin the relationship. I see the way he looks at you. He also talks very highly of you... sometimes." He admits. "So, yes! I am blaming you for what happened."
"He is mad, because I lied to him about the letter. I mean, with good reason. I understand I should have told him, but he doesn't have a saying in what I do. If I want to go to Saldrian or fight in the god-damned war, I will do it!" I let out the anger boiling inside me. "We do have a relationship, but he doesn't get to decide for me. I do that, I decide what's best for me. He... he is too protective, now with Coin's threat, and I hate feeling trapped. I just want him to understand he doesn't have to be that way. He can still worry and give me space to breathe – why am I even telling you this?"
"You trust me, besides Peter."
"Perhaps..."
"I believe he does understand that." He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You know how he is when it comes to you. He just doesn't know how to tone it down without fearing for your safety."
"I want him to be wrong, so he doesn't have a choice but to accept my point-of-view."
"Now you are just acting like a child." He pats my shoulder, and drops the hand. "You should put aside your differences. After tomorrow might be a decisive day, but you should get things straight today. I don't want to fight beside two moody teenagers."
"I am almost twenty years-old."
"And I am twenty-five." He grins. "I will see you at the Great Hall. And if it isn't too much trouble, replace the target."
...
Peter
By chance I encounter Finnick near the entrance to the courtyard. He bows in a jesting manner, and claps me on my back before walking away. I glance at him, confused with the gesture.
"Did she say yes?"
He looks at me. "I wish she had."
The courtyard echoes the sound of something being pierced. I watch as an arrow draws a straight line in the air to reach its target. It misses the center where the hay has been impaled by another one. She lowers the bow, reaches for an arrow and swiftly lifts her arms. Her back muscles tense when she inhales and relax the moment she exhales and lets the arrow fly. Why do you need to learn how to handle a sword?
I never saw her shoot arrows in a peaceful environment. There was always a threat. There was always something to kill.
Katherine lifts her arms once more, repeats the same breathe, yet she holds it for one more second. Her face suddenly turns, and she spots me. The arrow flies, the string hits her in the face, and the bow falls from her hands.
I run to her when I spot red in her hands.
"Let me see." I plead, trying to turn her face to me.
"It's okay. Ah, son of a –"
She clutches her cheek. I see the smeared blood near her nose.
"Let me take a look. I promise I won't touch it." I say.
Slowly she uncovers her wounded cheek. There is a long cut from her temple to her chin. The blood runs down to her jaw and quickly stains the neckline of her dress.
"We need to go to Master Aurelius."
"I am alright. I don't need to see him." She says, and brings up her sleeve.
I stop her before she touches the wound.
"Don't be stubborn. You need to treat the wound."
"I am not –"
"Why are we even fighting?" I interrupt her. A moment of silence as the blood runs down her face. "Will you let me help you? I know I can't be trusted, but at least let me help you."
"Okay."
I watch her pick up the bow and remove the arrows from the target, not paying any mind to what I said. Sometimes I don't know why I worry so much.
Master Aurelius greets us as soon as the door opens, but loses the smile when he sees the wound.
"The cut isn't deep. Your Highness doesn't have to worry about a needle and a thread." He says, taking a look at the wound.
Katherine sits in a chair, not talking, yet I see the expression of pain in her eyes and how they shimmer with tears. I crouch down, and take her hand in mine. She fists it, but soon relaxes it.
"How is the young girl?" I ask him, while he cleans the dry blood around the cut.
"Her wounds are healing nicely but slowly. I would transfer her to her room, but I want to keep a close eye on her. Her mind isn't stable enough for her to be alone." He grabs a clean piece of cloth and drenches it in a translucid substance. "Has the guilty person been found?"
"No. I would like to find him, but there are more important matters to worry now."
"I understand."
He takes the cloth and carefully places it over the wound. Katherine's fingers sink into my skin like knives as she tries to hold in a scream. She just can't keep the tears from falling.
"There." Master Aurelius smiles. "It's done. I would only advise you to come later at night to change the cloth."
"Okay." Katherine says, her voice too low and clogged by the tears.
"Thank you." I say to him. He pats my shoulder.
"She must be very thankful to have you to look after her."
"Yeah."
Out in the hall she drops my hand to adjust the quiver on her shoulder. I stare at the cloth on the left side of her face. Despite it, her beauty remains intact. I wonder why we fight so much. Why can we go back to the time before I left for Esbart?
"Do you feel better?"
"Yes. Thank you." She smiles an half-smile.
"Do you want to go outside?" I ask her before she leaves.
"I can't leave the castle."
"I was thinking of taking a walk by the lake."
"Uh... I guess."
"Great. I will see you in a moment. By the main doors." I smile at her.
She nods, and leaves.
...
"Why is the castle so quiet?"
I glance down at her. Her fingers fidget with the green ribbon around her wrist, her hair dances with the soft cold breeze, her eyes stare straight ahead, and her mouth closes as soon as her lips form the last word.
"What?" She glances up. "I am sorry I didn't hear what you said."
"Why is the castle so quiet? Are we at war or not?"
"My father has been in several meetings with the council. After breakfast I met with him for another one. A plan is being crafted, but it is complicated. He doesn't agree with most of the council members, and they don't agree with his ideas."
"I am sure if I –"
"Please, Katherine, don't start." I stop walking. "Whatever you think of it, the war isn't your fault. The queen would have declared war on us with you here or not."
"I do feel responsible for bringing Coin's wrath upon you."
"Can we talk of something else?"
"Do you want to continue this morning's argument?" She says, bluntely.
"No, I want to forget it." I say, resuming our walk. "Tell me of your lessons with Finnick."
"Uh, well... they are good. He says I have learned the basics. Perhaps that's why he canceled today's lesson." She says, the last words coming out angry.
"He does have his reasons to cancel it."
"Mmhh." She unfastens the ribbon, and turns it into a small ball. "He is afraid he will push me too much. Benefits of being a princess."
"I always get that treatment, but I have gotten used to it."
"Of course you did. I spent three years without it, and it was bliss. Now I move a muscle, and dozens of people come to my aid."
"From what you previously told me people were afraid to approach you. I believe I heard a servant comment about your mean appearance." I chuckle at the thought.
"At least they didn't bother me then."
I smile at her words. Being alone helps me clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Yet a small conversation once in a while is good to keep me from going insane. She does like her loneliness, and takes pleasure in it. However, I don't want her to be alone. It is almost instictive now. I don't want to leave her alone, even when I am mad at her.
"This piece of cloth is very uncomfortable."
"Let me take a look at it." I stop her, and turn the left side of her face to me.
"There is nothing to worry about."
Her eyes plead with me, and I let go of her face. A silent beat, the breeze seems to slow down, my heart pumps blood to the sound of her breathes, and our faces moves on their own. She watches me through half-shut eyes. A breathe –
"Crap!" Katherine pulls away, and runs to the edge of the lake. "Damn that ribbon!"
I stare at the surface of the lake and see the ribbon moving with the stream.
"I'll get it."
"What? The water is freezing."
I am already taking my boots off when she warns me.
"Peter, it is just a ribbon."
I unbutton my cloak, drop it on the ground, and undress my vest.
"Peter, stop. We can wait for the stream to bring it back to us."
I jump into the water.
...
Katherine
My arm tries to seize the sleeve of his shirt, but I lower it when he is already in the water. The water is too dark to see how deep the lake is. Peter's arms push the water, sending small waves up the grassy shore.
"This water is as warm as a fire under the sea." He shouts.
"You are actually trying to jest about this situation?" I shout back, but quickly decide against it.
The wound burns my left side, almost paralizing my face. I touch the cloth very gently, and press the tips to keep it from falling.
"I got it!"
"Great."
The water pushed back his hair in a manner I had never seen. Despite the blackness, his eyes reflect the water, while his unkept stubble shimmers with drops of it. I pick up his cloak to distract my eyes from staring too long.
He gets out of the water without a trace of cold. In a few moments he will be begging for a hot fire and dozens of blankets. I hide my face, not touching the cloth, behind the cloak to conceal my red cheeks.
The shirt clings to his chest, shoulders and arms like a new skin. It doesn't leave very to the imagination. The lines of his muscles are a surprise, since I never saw him without his shirt.
"Can – can you put on, uh, put on the cloak?" I mumble, avoiding his face or any part of his body.
"Give me your hand."
I hesitate, but put out my hand. His wet one takes mine, and he ties the wet ribbon around my wrist.
"Next time, leave it as it is." He advises.
"Just cover yourself. You must be freezing." I say as I push the cloak to his chest.
"I am not." He says. "But a warm place would be nice right now, so let's go back inside."
He picks up his vest and boots, and carries the cloak with the other one. In the castle I find a maid, and tell her to bring a basin with hot water and some towels to Peter's chamber. She takes a look at him. He offers her a smile.
I open the door to his room and feel him standing too close when he enters the room. He drops the boots by a chair, and the vest and the cloak on the seat.
"You aren't going to stand there, are you?" He asks, and grabs my hand to pull me away from the door to close it.
"I am sure you can clean yourself."
"You don't have to worry about me undressing in front of you."
"I didn't say anything about that."
"No, you didn't, but you were thinking it." He smiles a half-smile. "I will warn you I am about to take my shirt off."
"Go ahead. Just don't take your pants off – oh!"
Peter laughs. He grabs the hem of his shirt, and I quickly look away and walk to the window to sit on its seat.
"When you said it was just a ribbon, did you believe that something your father gave you was insignificant?"
"It is just a lace." I look down at it. It falls flat againt my skin. "Just a piece of fabric."
"What about its sentimental value?"
"I don't know..." I look at the gardens. "I think it doesn't have any value. In the end, it is something insignificant, material."
"Are you having second thoughts?"
"I am not sure." I glance at Peter. He stands before the fireplace, his bare back moves with each breathe.
I stand up and cross the room to him. I undo the ribbon around my wrist, catch him by surprise when I take his hand in mine and begin to tie it around his wrist. I admire the small bow against his skin, turning his hand from side to side.
"Maybe now it has some sentimental value."
I look up at his face, and force myself to stare into his eyes. His regard me gently.
"No hard feelings between us?"
"I have apologised for lying, and I admited my intentions."
He smiles, and brings up his hand to my face. I fear he is going to touch my wound, but he only pushes some strands of hair behind my ear.
"Does this mean you trust me?"
"No, but this is a start."
I am amazed this story hasn't gone to hell. I am the one to blame for taking so long to write this chapter, but, you know, college is a pain in the ass! Hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope the next one doesn't take SIX FUCKING MONTHS to write...