A/N – Massive apologies for the long wait for this update. More wedding hoohah! It was my hen-do, which was pretty damned epic (and took a couple of days to recover from!) my niece's fifth birthday, which took up a day of baking before hand, I had auditions and rehearsals, and general life stopping me from writing.
That being said, to make up for the delay, this is a sligtly longer than usual chapter. Enjoy!
We follow the same procedure as before. Three plain cookies are ordered, along with some simple royal icing. As quickly as I am able I sketch out a rough design of the arena on one, with markings to show that the arena was governed by the time. On another I draw a clock face, showing lightning at the 12 o'clock position. There isn't enough room to go in to detail on any of the other positions, and not knowing what happened in most sectors anyway I have to make do by icing a basic skull and crossbones by each number. I hope this is enough to indicate imminent danger. On the final cookie I ice a rather peculiar looking character. One of the stories dad used to tell us as children was about a character he had invented called The Pillow Man. The Pillow Man would appear whenever a child was in danger, and he would wrap them in his pillow arms and protect them from all harm, ushering them away from the danger. I used to sketch how I thought he looked when he would appear to those children in need of his protection. After I witnessed the death of Kern's friend in those first Hunger Games I ever saw I stopped believing in The Pillow Man; there was no way he could allow children to be hurt like that, so there was no way he could exist. But I hope dad remembers him, and remembers the drawings I did of him. Hopefully his appearance will be enough to convince dad that they are in danger, and that they have to move.
The monetary cost of sending a few cookies in to the arena has more than tripled in just a few short hours. Briar doesn't seem in any way fazed by the coins she spent on sending them down in to the arena.
On our return to the bar, Briar turns to me. "I'll let you know when I require reimbursement for this, Peeta." She places a hand on my chest, her eyes roving up and down my body.
I surreptitiously bite my bottom lip to stop it from shaking. "Not yet, then?"
"Oh no, sweetie. I'm not ready for you yet. I'll be in touch." She reaches behind me and grabs my bum, giving it a squeeze before retreating away to rejoin her friends. She greets them exuberantly, and pulls that ornate box of hers out again. She takes another pinch of that white powder and offers it to all her friends, who all partake. The sleaziness of this world will never fail to astound and disgust me.
I shake my head and seek out Katniss. She is sat with Haymitch, picking at the remaining pastries. I join her and take a swig from the tea I'd left before, wrinkling my nose in repulsion as I do. Not only has it gotten far too cold for my liking, but Katniss has clearly claimed it as her own and desecrated it with at least two sugars. "That's disgusting," I tell her as I pass it back to her.
"It's not!" she says in protest, taking a sip and sighing appreciatively.
"You can get me a new one," I say with a smile as I take an apricot pastry, tear it in half and give the larger of the two halves to Katniss.
"Oh, can I?" she responds, a mischievous glint in her eye. She takes a bite of the pastry, and a small crumb sticks to the corner of her lip. I brush it away for her and cup her cheek as I do. She holds my gaze for a moment, and reaches up to touch my hand. She closes her eyes as she does so and sighs slightly. For a split second I forget the situation we are in, and just enjoy the moment. I pull her hand to my mouth and place a gentle kiss on her fingers tips.
I want to take her away now. I want to scoop her up in my arms and carry her away from the Capitol, away from the Games and back to Twelve. I want to take her to my old bedroom above the bakery, ignoring the space of our houses in the Victor's Village. Right now I don't want anything to do with the Capitol, I just want Katniss in my cramped old room with the lumpy mattress and the tiny cracked window that offers nothing more glamorous than a close up view of the haberdasher's brick wall next door.
I break away from her gaze; it is pointless harbouring such thoughts. Wishing we could have what we do without the involvement of the Capitol… It would never have happened. And besides, there are more pressing matters at hand.
I look at dad's screen just in time to see the parachute land in front of him. Katniss places a hand on my knee and grips me gently, sending a tingling sensation up my thigh. I do my best to ignore it and focus my concentration on the screens.
He and Yohan had been sitting down to a makeshift breakfast; a pitiful handful of berries each and a few nuts to supplement. I look at the tray with the selection of all the pastries I had ordered and my stomach contracts in painful guilt. When the parachute drops dad and Yohan open it up together, and Yohan lets out a little moan of longing as he sees the fresh cookies. I watch my father's face as he studies the icing on these, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he does. When he finally checks the cookie with the Pillow Man drawing his breath hitches in his throat, and he hastily wipes away a tear. He shows them to Yohan, and I briefly have to stop watching the screens as he explains the drawing of the Pillow Man by retelling Yohan one of my favourite childhood bedtime stories.
"What do you think, then?" he says to the small boy on screen.
"You don't think it's safe to stay here?"
"Definitely not. Not if The Pillow Man is telling us to move."
"Maybe it's safer in the middle?"
Dad looks at the two first cookies, with the arena and the clock face. My heart stops. I haven't drawn anything to indicate that these traps will stop. I should have told him to head for the twelve o'clock wedge; that he will be relatively as safe as possible if he heads up that way.
"I think we head to the middle, then try and cut back behind the clock. We'll stay behind the danger that way. We don't want to stay out in the open too long."
"Do you think… maybe…. What if there are people in the middle?"
"You let me worry about that." Dad ruffles the boy's hair in such a familiar manner that it makes my heart hurt to see. They share one of the cookies and start the trek towards the beach.
"Here," Katniss's voice intrudes on my concentration. She hands me a steaming hot mug of tea unsullied by sugar.
"Thank you." I blow a little on the scalding hot liquid and take a sip. I can't believe I left that important detail from the icing. If my stupid mistake draws him in to the open and gets him killed… And what about Ava? She's there, at the cornucopia, with all the remaining supplies; would she be able to kill? I don't know if dad could bring himself to harm her.
As we watch their progress, a jovial voice enters the bar and calls out, "Morning all! Who's left then?" Chaff looks like he managed at least a few hours sleep without a worry in the world. He heads off to talk to Seeder, the other District Eleven mentor. As he does I'm struck by an odd observance. There are two mentors from each District. I know that there are plenty of other living Victors, but only two come each year to perform as mentors. So why are we allowed three of us? Perhaps to keep up appearances? Or does most of the Capitol think of us as just a single unified identity?
I don't know the answer but I am grateful that we don't have to do this alone. I imagine coming here without Katniss by my side, or having her come here without me, or even the two of us bumbling our way through trying to help our tributes without even Haymitch's drunken advice to guide us.
I realise that I haven't actually checked the boards yet to see who survived the night. The boy from Ten, the girls from Two and Three, and the men from Five and Eight all died at some point. Where and how I don't know. But where there was once life, now there is nothing.
I keep slowly sipping at my tea, watching dad's every step through the jungle. Katniss places her hand just above my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. I place my hand on top of hers but don't take my eyes from the screen.
Finally they break free from the tree-line. Dad ushers Yohan in front of him and keeps darting his eyes from side to side to ensure their safety. He stands on the beach looking towards the central island. "There doesn't seem to be anyone there," he says. "Let's go." They make their way to one of the spokes, and here dad takes the lead. They edge their way along as quickly as they can to the cornucopia.
As dad reaches the middle it becomes apparent that they are not as alone as they initially thought. Ava is still searching through the remaining supplies and when my father shows up with Yohan she freezes solid, her eyes darting to the curved dagger by dad's side.
"You ok?" he asks her after a while. She nods slowly, eyes never leaving the weapon. "Found anything useful?"
"N-not much yet," she answers timidly.
The three of them are in a strange kind of purgatory. No-one seems particularly willing to make the first move.
"Well," says my father. "We should…."
"LOOK OUT!" screams Ava at the top of her voice.
I have been so intent on watching dad that I hadn't paid attention to anything else going on. Dad spins on the spot, and I desperately seek out a screen that shows on overview of the action, so I can see what has caused Ava alarm.
The boy from Two is running along one of the spokes towards them. Dad turned around just in time to see a barbed spear hurtling through the air towards him. Ava's shriek allowed him to duck to the side, as the spear misses him by inches and buries itself into the side of the cornucopia. The boy from Two realises his mistake but already has withdrawn two lethal looking long, thin three pronged daggers. An announcer 'helpfully' informs the watching audience that these daggers are ancient weapons known as sai.
He charges at dad with the force of a raging bull, but thankfully dad is ready for him. Like my brothers and I, in his day dad was good at wrestling and it's clear he has remembered at least some of his moves. He has grounded himself well and braced himself for impact. I risk a quick check of the illuminated board showing the names and odds for each tribute. This boy is Titus Malvern, with current odds of 5-1. Bile rises inside me looking at those two numbers and I snap back to the monitor, almost unable to breathe.
In the split second I had looked away, Titus had reached my father who had side stepped at the last possible moment, and knocked the boy off balance. This gave him enough time to reach his dagger. He slashes out at Titus who easily blocks every single blow using the sai. As he blocks one of the strikes he twists the handle of the sai sharply. This causes the blade of dad's dagger to snap while also yanking the handle from his grip. I watch the broken weapon tumble uselessly into the sand. "No…" I whisper and I feel Katniss hand snake behind my back for comfort and support.
Yohan and Ava who were shocked in to stillness by the appearance of this boy have started to rouse themselves. Ava is struggling to pull the embedded spear from the side of the cornucopia, but the barbs are making it difficult to pull out again. Yohan is unarmed but runs at Titus's back and jumps at him, his tiny hands trying to wrap around the older boy's throat. Titus dislodges him easily by thrusting his elbow backwards and smacking Yohan in the face. Blood immediately begins to pour from Yohan's obviously broken nose. He may not have been able to do any damage to Titus, but the moment of distraction gave my father enough leeway to at least be able to twist one of the sai daggers from Titus's grip. In anger Titus kicks forward violently, catching my father in the stomach. Dad drops to his knees and I feel as winded as he must do, knowing that the end must surely be approaching.
I'm shaking in fear and anticipation as I watch Titus kick dad one more time to the ground. He takes back the sai dad had managed to wrestle from his grip and tucks it into his belt. He holds the other sai over dad's face and plunges it down. I can't watch. I close my eyes as tears stream down my face, and I wait for the inevitable canon fire.
But the canon fire doesn't come. Dad hasn't given up yet. I slowly open my eyes again and see that dad caught Titus by the wrist, and stopped the sai from stabbing his face. Unlike his earlier tussle with Esme from District Seven, Titus is a match for his strength and the two of them are struggling for control over the blade.
Ava has given up her fruitless struggle of trying to remove the embedded spear and instead is scrabbling around in the sand. She finds the handle of dad's broken dagger and picks it up. My heart begins to lift; there is still a sliver of a blade left attached to the handle. There is fear and apprehension in her eyes as she understands what she has to do. She runs to where dad and Titus are still fighting over control of the sai and plunges the broken blade down in to Titus's back.
The shock and surprise registers immediately on Titus's face. He can't seem to understand what has happened to him. He coughs and as he does blood splatters over dad's face. Ava must have punctured his lung. Dad pushes him back, and Titus clearly understands it's all over for him. He is struggling to breathe, slowly drowning in his own blood. Between his shallow, gurgling breaths he manages to rasp out, "Help…me…"
Dad is still recovering from the struggle but he crawls over to where Titus has sat himself up and is slowly dying. "How?" he asks him gently.
"Make….it…quick…."
Dad nods sadly at the boy. He crawls behind him, places an arm around the boy's shoulders and his other at the side of his head. He jerks Titus's head to the side in one quick, sudden movement, and the boy immediately falls limp in his arms. The canon fires and I let a dry, hacking sob that I had been holding in.
"It's ok," soothes Katniss to the side of me. "He's ok."
I watch in a kind of trance as dad quickly gathers the sai before they get removed along with Titus's body. "Thank you," he says to Ava, as he kneels down next to Yohan to check on his broken nose. "So… are you coming with us?"
She seems to be weighing up her options. She has been managing ok on her own, but she also must know that she never would have survived a fight with Titus on her own. "Ok," she says eventually.
Dad leads Yohan to the sea and manages to at least wash some of the blood from his face. When he's satisfied that the young boy is no longer bleeding he asks him, "Can you remember which way we came from?" Yohan points to the correct wedge. "Let's head this way, then," says dad, pointing towards the wedge where Ava had her encounter with the mutt.
"No!" she says forcefully. "It's not safe down there!"
"It will be, I promise."
"No!" she says again. "No, I'm not going back there, please don't make me!"
"Ok," he says placatingly, and he points to a wedge a couple anti clockwise along from where Ava refused to go back. "How about this way?"
She nods and the three of them together dart as quickly as possible along one of the spokes. Only when they return to the cover of the jungle do I feel able to breathe fully again.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" Katniss says to me. I quickly check the arena map. The three of them are the only ones in their sector right now. I nod and she takes my hand, leading me away. I feel as if I am in a daze as she walks me away from the bustling hub centre of the games. "He's doing well," she says.
I try to swallow but my mouth has gone entirely dry. I don't want to talk about the games, or about my father, or about the Capitol or any of its residents. I just want to forget and feel normal just for a while.
"He could still win, you know."
"Katniss, please don't," I say. "Please?"
"Ok." She slips her arms around my waist and rests her head against my chest. I hold her close to me and place a gentle kiss on top of her head. She sighs deeply. "I want to see you smile again."
"Me too."
"What will it take?"
How do I answer this? All I have ever wanted is a simple life with the woman in my arms. I've only ever had one or the other. A thought occurs to me, something I need clarification over. "Earlier… You said 'you too.' What did you mean?"
She pauses. "I think you know."
"Then say it."
"Peeta, I'm not good with words."
"Please?"
She brings a hand up behind my head and pulls me to her lips. They feel impossibly soft against my own and I can't help but return her kiss. I pull away just long enough to whisper to her, "Please?" but instead of answering she kisses me again, deeper this time, her tongue flicking lightly over mine.
She breaks away just long enough to say, "I can show you."
She takes my hand and begins walking the familiar route back towards our rooms. With every step my heart seems to be pounding louder and faster, and is unbearably uncomfortable by the time we reach her door. She unlocks it and steps inside, her eyes full of desire. I follow her and pull the door closed behind me. She peppers my lips and neck with soft, fluttering kisses, grabs hold of the front of my shirt and pulls me towards the bed.
Am I able to do this? With my father in constant danger, and the knowledge that I have to 'pay' Briar back at some point, am I really able to push these dark thoughts aside and just focus on the woman in front of me? She climbs on to the bed and pulls her top straight over her head and all doubts are put aside. "Come to me," she says, her voice husky and I am almost undone on the spot. I join her on the bed, placing my hands on the gentle curves of her slender waist. She makes a satisfied groan in the back of her throat as I press my lips in to hers once again.
"Let me make you happy," she says as she begins to unbutton my shirt. Her hands roam over my chest and stomach, and she pauses for a moment before allowing her hands to rub over the obvious tent forming in my trousers. I inhale sharply as she does so, and she once again captures my lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
I need to touch her too, and place my hands over her perfect breasts. Through the thin cotton of her bra I feel her nipples grow hard under my touch. I pull the cloth down, exposing her dusky, pebbled nipple and lower my head to it. I flick my tongue over it, pull it in to my mouth, allow my teeth to gently graze over the exposed sensitive flesh and am rewarded with the throaty moans that indicate her pleasure.
I need to see more of her. I reach around behind her back and fumble with the catch on her bra, getting more and more frustrated as the damned thing doesn't want to undo. She giggles a little, reaches behind her own back and in a second the offending article has been discarded on the floor.
"And the rest," I say. She shimmies out of her trousers and underwear, and lays back on the bed so I can take in the full sight of her naked body.
She is glorious. Her braid spills down over one shoulder, her breasts pert, her stomach taught. "And you," she says to me.
I undress as quickly as I can and lay down beside her, my erection pressing in to her hip. Her hand runs up and down my side as we kiss.
"Lay on your back," she says as she looks in to my eyes.
I do as she asks me, and she reaches in to her bedside cabinet, taking another of those pills she took before to prevent pregnancy. She then climbs on top of my lap and places herself over me. I feel her hot wetness over me, and my cock twitches to try and meet with it. "Don't you want me to make you happy first?" I say to her but instead of answering she smiles, takes me in her hand and guides me in to her.
As she buries me inside her core all the pain and anguish seems to melt away, and all I am left with is the knowledge of how utterly wonderful this feels. She moves slowly, rocking her hips back and forth, breathy gasps escaping from her with each movement.
It feels impossibly good. I run my hands over her thighs, across her back, over her bum, revelling in her perfect skin. "Katniss," I breathe, as the feeling of pleasure begins to intensify. This is going to be over far too soon. "Katniss, please wait a moment…" She smiles and shakes her head, and starts to move faster. "Please… I can't…. I won't be able to stop it…"
This seems to be her intention. The pressure inside me is building and building, until I'm crying out her name. She clamps her muscles down around me, milking my orgasm for every last drop. She drops her head to my mouth and softly kisses my lips then climbs off me and lays down next me. "I think actions speak louder, don't you think?"
I can't help but smile as she says this to me. "Actions are good," I agree. "Actions feel pretty damn amazing." I push a few loose strands of her hair from her face. "Can I make you happy now?"
She smiles and I want to remember the look on her face forever. "This wasn't about me. I know how you feel about me. I wanted to show you how I feel."
"So… Can I make you happy now?"
That perfect smile again. "Well… actions are good."
I reach between her legs, amazed by how incredibly wet she is, and finding that bundle of nerves that she pointed out to me before, slowly circling over it in the way I know that she likes. It doesn't take long before she comes undone in front of me. "Thank you," she whispers.
We lie together a while, the only sounds I can hear that of our own breathing. A twinge of guilt starts to pull at my conscience. "We should head back," I say.
We dress in silence, and as we do I feel the anxiety beginning to return. The bliss we shared was wonderful, but until dad is safe back in Twelve, it won't last forever.
A/N – The Pillow Man was inspired by the play The Pillowman by Martin McDonagh. I'd recommend everyone read that play, purely because of how awesome it is. My Pillow Man is a much nicer guy though, in that he just protects children. The Pillowman protects suicidal adults from their lives of misery by travelling back in time to when they were children, and showing them the jars of pills that look like sweets, getting them to cross the road without looking etc... It's a very dark play but utterly brilliant.
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