Part 1 - The Victors

Chapter 1

The crowd erupted into a deafening cheer as the firework display continued in the sky overlooking the Presidential Palace. Throughout the entire night, it felt as though everyone's eyes were on me and only me. They paid attention to Peeta enough, but especially so when I was on his arm. Rather, when he was on my arm. Now that there was a dazzling spectacle happening involving pyrotechnics that wasn't me, it felt like a breath of fresh air. For what felt like the first time since the Tour started, there were no eyes piercing at me. Through me. Through the whole facade that Peeta and I were continuing to keep up. Which, according to Cinna and Effie, was going surprisingly well. Even Haymitch, who shares my nihilistic indifference towards anything related to keeping the Capitol entertained as well as my desire to save District 12 from impending doom, has applauded the two of us. He had Peeta and I announce our engagement before finishing our Tour at the Presidential Palace to really drive the idea that we were completely and utterly obsessed with one another. However, well before that, he had told us we have really been selling it since what occurred after our first stop in District 11, which the Capitol has likely further cracked down on since our brief appearance. I doubt I will ever see that place again; I doubt anyone aside from the District 11 residents will anytime soon. Even prominent figures from other Districts or the Capitol will likely not visit it any time in the near future. There was no yelling or outcry, nor retaliatory murders done by Peacekeepers for the protesting. Not so much as a whiff of rebellion in the other Districts we visited. Aside from a minor showing of rebel support from some citizens in District 8, there was no trouble elsewhere.

I frowned at the thought. It wasn't fair to label what happened in 8 as a minor showing of rebellion. Albeit it was only two individuals who held up the three-finger salute, I'm sure it took guts. A lot of guts; a lot of courage. It was a brief act of defiance, one that clearly didn't spark much of a reaction from the rest of the crowd but did spark a reaction from the Peacekeepers. I tried my best to avoid glancing at the two rebels as they were dragged out of the crowd in 8, but I saw just enough in my peripheral vision as I spoke to the crowd to see the torture already beginning when the Peacekeepers beat the man from the duo. They landed blows on him with their fists, feet, and batons as they carried him away. I wonder how long their punishment, their torture, would last for such a quick, and clearly harmless, gesture. Surely they'd be executed for such a showing, but if Snow is trying to crack down on the rebellion, I would guess they wouldn't be so lucky as to have a quick death. Actually, they might be made into Avoxes. I guess that depends on how serious the threat of rebellion is as of right now. If there's still a chance, they'll be executed as an example to the rebellion. A declaration of war on an actual, legitimate movement against the government. If they're made Avoxes, they'll be an example to a few isolated, radical individuals who have no platform to project or showcase their beliefs. Both are terrible. I know I would choose death if I were in that position, although these two won't be given a choice. In fact, I'm the one who is responsible for that choice.

My frown remained as I froze, suddenly realizing that not everyone was distracted by the firework show happening in the sky. There was still a pair of eyes on me, and I knew exactly whose eyes they were because I could feel the way they dug into me. The hairs on my neck stood up. I could smell the roses on him from across the courtyard as if he were standing right beside me.

I subtly glanced to meet his eyes. Snow stood on his balcony, his gaze trained on me. The corners of his mouth wrinkled up and his unmoving body suddenly gave a small jerk. That was a laugh. He laughed. The gesture immediately felt patronizing and I had to restrain myself from scowling at him in return.

How long had he been watching me, waiting for me to meet his gaze?

It felt like hours, as I anxiously waited for his answer. That's why he was looking at me, right? To let me know if I had accomplished the impossible? Be likable and in love enough to convince him that it was all true?

His smirk turned into an evilish grin, although still subtle. He was amused by this. By all of this. By my defiance in The Games, by mine and Peeta's act of love, by the threat of rebellions, by dangling all of this pressure of the task I was given in which I must extinguish the Districts and pretend I love the Capitol, with the unthinkable consequences if I were to fail always looming. He was amused by all of it and, no matter what he decided, no matter how well I performed, he would win.

Either I convinced the Districts, and him, that Peeta and I were truly in love with one another. My family, friends, and District would be safe from Snow's power directly. Peeta and I could enjoy each others' company as friends while we live a quiet life…until The Games start each year. Although the ideal outcome, Snow knows this would make a miserable life for me to live. Knowing I squandered any hope of rebellion and traded it in for the life of a Victor would be enough to make me want to kill myself. However, being the one in this position, I can't not try. I need to protect those closest to me. If anything were to happen to them because of me, I don't know if I would be able to forgive myself.

I need to remember to be vague with any details I give to Gale about this whole Tour. Be vague with my whole family. The less they know, the better.

Or, if I were indeed going to fail at this task, Snow would get to kill me. Maybe not kill me directly or maybe not kill me right away, but kill my soul. My spirit. Everything that makes me me, he would take away. My District, Gale, my mother, Prim…

The one positive side to that outcome would be the chance of overthrowing the Capitol, although that seemed far-fetched and I already think I know which of these two outcomes I would prefer.

Despite my mind racing, I managed to keep my gaze on him. I made sure my eyes didn't waver, as I wanted to show this vile man no weakness. No fear. No regret for the decisions I made to get the outcome to this dilemma that would soon be revealed. My eyes remained cold and expectant as I silently demanded an answer from him. Hopefully, at least knowing what direction my life was about to take would bring me a little peace of mind.

Snow's smirk endured the few seconds of our wordless encounter and he gave a small nod. Not an overt gesture, not even one noticeable enough to somebody who wasn't expecting some kind of answer from him. But I was expecting an answer; a long-awaited answer that was the cause of intense restlessness, nausea, and other mental and physical stresses for the past few weeks. And I finally got it.

I got the ideal outcome.

As quickly as I had noticed Snow on the balcony, that's how quickly he disappeared back into his mansion. I let out a shaky breath, moving for the first time since we stared one another down. I took in another breath, but it was shaky too. My stomach twisted into knots and I became worried that all of the food I consumed this evening was about to make a reappearance on the Capitol citizens in front of me.

I got the ideal outcome.

Why did I feel this way?

No, correction. I got my ideal outcome. My family, my friends, my District, my life was safe. For now.

Which means everything will be the exact same. Entire Districts left to starve. Parents sending their kids to the Reaping. Those same kids losing their friends, siblings, or their own lives in the Games. Mentors having to endure Tribute death after death each year, with only one being lucky enough to have their Tribute survive.

Business as usual. A vicious cycle.

Although selfish, I am quite relieved that my family has been somewhat removed from that cycle now. They were safe. I performed up to the standards that Snow had in mind. I single-handedly kept my family out of harm from the most powerful man in the country. They were safe for now, much safer than they were weeks ago.

I can't quite shake this nagging feeling yet, though. Succeeding in my goal of keeping my family safe also meant I was successful in fooling people in every District. The overwhelming majority of people who were temporarily inspired by my moment in the arena were fooled. Fooled, persuaded, lied to, deterred, discouraged, or completely demoralized into not participating in any further rebel activities.

Maybe some of them weren't even just temporarily fooled. Maybe some of them have been waiting for years to see a spark; a flicker of fight in the people against the Capitol. Maybe some were friends or family of fallen Tributes who harbored a special, more personal kind of hate towards the Capitol. I single-handedly misled these people while succeeding in my task.

I suddenly did not feel all too successful, as the knots in my stomach remained.

"Everything ok?"

He spoke so quietly, quiet enough to where nobody around us would have even heard him talk. However, I jumped at the sound of his voice. I had nearly forgotten that he was right next to me, my hands around his arm.

"Yeah," I nodded. I didn't know if now was the best time to share more details, but his head turned to face me. His eyes seemed bright with anticipation and I knew what he was wondering. I faced him too. "We convinced him."

"Really?" he asked, his voice still quiet but not hushed. The fireworks were still going on, with the crowd still mesmerized by them. I gave another nod. "Well, that's a relief." I forced a third nod, as well as a smile, and then returned to the fireworks. Maybe the smile was too much, because he saw through it quickly. "This is a good thing, right? Katniss?"

"Yes, it—" I started, suddenly feeling the flood of emotions and thoughts coming back. "It is a good thing." I slid my hands down his arm, taking his own hand in mine and squeezing it tight. It was a selfish attempt at self-soothing the rise in anxiety I was feeling, but Peeta interpreted it to be warmer than I meant. He squeezed back, lowering his voice once again.

"I know you're probably disappointed too," he said. I was about to object, but he continued. "Not about me and you. Or, well—maybe. Maybe you are, I don't know. But I know you're disappointed about the, y'know…" I did know. I did know what he meant. It's like he was reading my mind and I was reading his. He knew I felt disappointed about the chance of rebellion, of potentially overcoming the Capitol and giving the Districts power, had faded. Through the flashes of color from the fireworks that reflected on his face, I could see him give me a grim look. His half-smile was pitiful and his eyes seemed empty. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't too."

Not only had I managed to let down the Districts by lying to them about my love for Peeta, but now it seems I had managed to let Peeta down as well. Can't he just be grateful that I helped him save us and our families and our District? That he now has what he wanted; me and him, together, getting married? Is this not what he always dreamed of?

No, that wasn't fair. Of course this isn't what he wants. At least, not under these circumstances. And he has much a reason to hate the Capitol and want to see them go under as much as I do. Him and I, we have more in common than I often care to remember. I need to start remembering that and giving him more credit. He is still the soft, gentle baker's son but he is also now a Victor. A victim of the Capitol, same as me. I may not be in love with him, but we seem to share a unique, strong bond.

Plus, I could hardly stand to see the forlorn look on his face much longer.

"Well," I whispered back with a small shrug. "Maybe we can still figure something out. Eventually, when things have settled down."

A small, more real smile filled the bottom half of his face, but quickly went away as the fireworks stopped. The crowd was lifted from their transfixation on the show in the sky and started to mingle once again. He gave my hands another quick squeeze. "Yeah, eventually."

A/N: Hunger Games renaissance has brought me back to (attempting to) write this idea for a story I had. I might do alternating POVs since I think that would be interesting, but also might just stick with Katniss POV to remain consistent to the style of the books. Let me know if you guys have a preference and I hope to be able to update somewhat regularly!