Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View
Chapter Eight
Katniss is left mostly bedridden, as instructed by her mother. And for once, she doesn't argue with us but allows her mother to nurse her back to health. I think a part of her is dispirited. I wander down to the bakery one evening, and notice there isn't a hum in the fence, and there's talk of the Peacekeepers fixing the base of the chain links, which means less Peacekeepers in the square. It is a family night in the Bakery, so even my brothers are sat at the dinner table, and in good spirits.
"Peeta! About time you showed your face around here!" Gareth cries as I walk in the room, which makes me laugh.
"Sorry, things got a bit hectic. I'm here now, though."
"And about time, too. You've missed the big news." My brows knit together in a frown, wondering what it could be. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if it has something to do with Katniss or the Peacekeepers. Lukail strides into the room with a large grin crawling across his lips, he looks happier than anybody I've seen in a long time.
"I'm engaged, little brother." I pause for a moment, but then laugh again in my shock and joy. I'd been so caught up in my own business with Katniss and the others, that I had forgotten my family are living lives of their own.
"That's fantastic, Lukail! Worthy of a celebration." My mother tuts and shakes her head across the room, displaying her feelings on the matter rather obviously. I hope she doesn't do so in front of my brother's fiancee. I embrace my brother and we all sit at the table and eat our dinner, and my mother even manages to be polite. Even though I am excited and happy for my brother, there's a blossom of jealousy in the pit of my mind. That he is engaged, and to a woman who truly loves him. There is no doubt of the love between my eldest brother and the woman he will name his wife, and they will live a hapily married life. I wonder what the future has in store for Katniss and I, and whether there is any possibility of some happiness in our marriage to come.
I visit Katniss the next morning with a fresh batch of cheese buns, which I have been making a lot of ever since finding out they are her favourite. I sit on a chair beside her bed as she nibbles on one of them, watching her closely.
"The fence is turned off," I say and she turns to look at me with a quirk in her brow. "The Peacekeepers are fixing the base of the chain links. Thread must think you've been wriggling under the electric current." I smirk a little, and notice her surpress a smile of her own.
"Peeta, will you help me with ... a project I am doing?" She asks timidly, reching for something on her bedside table.
"Of course, if I'm able to help at all." I answer instantly, with a slight shrug of one shoulder. She hands me the book that she's holding in her hands and I flick through the old pages, which are full of different plants. Beside the illustrations are an explanation of what they are, and I notice that against some of them are extra scrawlings in a handwriting I do not know.
"I was wondering if you could help me to draw some plants I want to add to it. I'm not very good at drawing myself, but I can explain the ones you don't already know and – and we have some pressing of flowers." She talks quickly and nervously, as if afraid I might refuse her. Which is absurd.
"Of course I'll help you, Katniss." I laugh gently, with a warm smile. There's the flicker of a smile on her face. "What is this, anyway?" I ask, turning the book over in my hands.
"It's from my mother's family. The herbalists would draw out the plants and their uses and then my father – he wrote down which ones were edible. It helped me a lot, when I remembered about it. I used it to feed us all, in the beginning." I look at her fully whilst she explains, notice the brief pain in her expression at the mention of her father. She glances at me, most likely noticing my stare. She averts her gaze quickly, and explains about a plant that she wants to start on.
I spend the next few days helping my father start up at the bakery, and then rushing to Katniss' house with some cheese buns and my paints. We spend hours over the book of plants. She makes me practice out each drawing until satisfied it is true to the plant, and then I draw it in the book. When the drawing is complete, Katniss writes out everything she knows about each plant. I find these quiet hours, with Katniss watching me draw, and I watching Katniss write, are my happiest hours in the day. One afternoon, I finish the shading on one of the plants and look up at Katniss. I've felt her eyes on me for a long time, as I usually do when I fall into the drawing stage. When I look up at her, Katniss starts and almost jumps back.
"You know, I think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together," I muse.
"Yeah. Nice for a change." She replies and I nod my head in agreement, thinking of how so far our relationship has been based from the Games. When we finish in the book on afternoons, I carry Katniss down the stairs and she often turns on the television. I'm not sure what she expects to find when the screen flickers to life. I try not to go into the town much, unless it's absolutely necessary. Haymitch drops by the house upon occasion with news of more people being punished, or people dying and collapsing from their starvation. Things in the District just seem to be on a constant decline.
"There's a mandatory programming tonight," my father tells me casually as we work side by side. I glance at him, my hand paused in my kneading, brows forming a deep frown.
"What for?" I ask him, returning my hands to the soft dough on the counter.
"Nobody is positive. Been a few people in speculating, someone thinks it's something to do with your fiancee's wedding dresses." There's no obvious emotion in his expression, but his voice is tight. My father knows all of my feelings on the matter of this wedding, and is probably the only one in the District, apart from Katniss and Haymitch.
"Should I even be seeing that? I thought the groom isn't to see the bride's dress beforehand." I think out loud, and my father only shrugs and grunts.
"Probably some announcement or other to accompany it. Know what President Snow is like, he likes his dramatics." I manage half a smile and finish up the bread, sticking it in the oven with my father's. He looks at me suddenly. "Do you want to stay here to watch it?" I know exactly what it is he isn't saying. Do I want the support of my family?
"That's okay, I'll watch it from home." I say with a smile. My father nods and says nothing more on the subject.
That night I sit in front of the crackling fire with the television in the corner of my living room switched on, flickering in the shadows of the room. I sip half heartedly at a mug of tea that is gradually cooling in my hands. Ceasar Flickerman is on the screen, talking about shots of the different wedding dresses. Seeing Katniss in them has left me both exhilirated and sick to my stomach. A wedding. A wedding with Katniss as my bride. A wedding neither of us particularly want. I don't want this fake wedding, it's a sham for the sake of the Capitol and the President. I get up to turn the television off, not wanting to see any more of this charade, but Ceasar stops me. He tells the audience to all stand by for the next big event.
"That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!" He shouts out to an excited crowd. I fall back into my chair, staring at the screen. The next Games aren't for months to come, and I don't know why there are nerves fluttering around my stomach. I am a Victor, Katniss is a Victor, and we no longer have to play in the Games. But we will be made to mentor the future Tributes, and the announcement tonight will affect them.
President Snow is suddenly on my screen, which is almost enough to make me switch it off again. A young boy in a white suit accompanies him, holding a wooden box. In that wooden box is a card, telling us what will happen this year in the Quarter Quell. The President drones on about the Games and tells the audience about what happened in the previous Quarter Quells. The boy steps forward with the wooden box, holding it out to the President and opening the lid. There are envelopes inside, marking each Quarter Quell and the ideas on them. The man doesn't even hesitate before reading the words on the card.
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the powers of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors." I drop the mug to the floor, where it bounces on the carpet and spills lukewarm tea across the floor and nearby wall. I continue to stare at the screen, the President's voice echoing through my mind.
"...from their existing pool of victors." Victors. That means Haymitch, Katniss and I. That means Katniss is going back into the arena. I jump to my feet and storm out of the house, without bothering to pick up a coat or any boots. I barely feel the stones under my bare feet when I walk across the street, entering Haymitch's house. There's light spilling into his clean hallway from the kitchen, and I hear a television going silent. He doesn't even look up when I walk into the kitchen. I notice the bottle in his hand, and another on the counter.
"Ripper is back in business then." I comment, but he doesn't answer. Only lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a large mouthful, gulping it down without a wince. "You saw the announcement." It's not a question, and still Haymitch says nothing. "You know why I'm here," I step further into the kitchen and he finally looks up at me. He's steady in his seat, because he's only had a few mouthfuls from the bottle. I've arrived before he falls into his usual drunken stupor.
"You want to save her," he says. I nod my head.
"I want to go into the arena, keep her safe." Haymitch barks in sharp laughter, swigging from the bottle again.
"Of course you do, boy. What makes you think I can't go in and protect her?" He asks loudly, pointing the bottle at me and almost spilling the liquor all over his table.
"Because you'll probably be suffering from alcohol depravation, and would be curled in a corner of the arena." I spit at him, the anger bubbling under the surface. I fight to keep it down. Again, I receive no answer. Another mouthful of liquor. He'll be passed out in a few hours if he keeps at this rate.
"You owe me, Haymitch." He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth, possibly some retort or question of how I figured that out. "You chose her last time, and left me to die. So now, you owe me. I want to go back in the arena to save her." His eyes meet mine.
"If you're sure this is what you want, boy."
"If they reap your name, I'm going to volunteer. If they call my name, I don't want you to do the same." I state plainly. He nods his head, and looks away again. I look at him once more, thinking of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. I turn and leave the house, heading straight for my own. I fall into the door and lock it behind me. In a kitchen cupboard, I pull out a small vial of liquid and tip it into my mouth. It's bitter, and my face screws up at the taste. But it's not long before I feel drowsy, so I make it up to my bed, automatically unstrapping my fake leg. Tonight, I don't want any nightmares, because I know what they will be of. Tonight, I do not want to visit the arena again and watch Katniss die. My head hits the pillow and unconsciousness folds in at the corners of my mind.
I wake the next morning feeling drowsy and too warm. I hadn't opened my window before falling into bed, and I always hate waking up in the heat. It feels much better with a breeze sweeping through the room. I roll into a sitting position and strap on my leg, making my way to the bathroom. After a quick bath, I dress in warm clothes and leave the house. It's late in the morning, so I stop by Katniss' house, wondering how she is handling the news of the night before. Mrs Everdeen answers the door when I knock gently, and she looks at me with a sheepish expression.
"Oh, Peeta. Good morning."
"Morning, Mrs Everdeen. I just thought I would come back and see how Katniss is doing ..." I allow the sentence to trail off, because we both know why.
"Well, she's still in bed at the moment. I have a feeling she will be ... for a few more hours." I frown a little in confusion, and Mrs Everdeen sighs. "She went to visit Haymitch after the – the announcement. She came home drunk." I raise my eyebrows in surprise, and my lips part whilst I try to think of something to say.
"Oh," I manage to croak. "Well okay then, I'll pop by some other time." I manage to smile and turn to walk away. I pause in the street, debating what to do. I want to storm to Haymitch's house and shout at him for allowing her to get drunk. But it will be of no use, and I know that getting drunk will have been all Katniss' decision. Haymitch just provided the liquor. Squaring my jaw, I head in to town.
"P-Peeta! Surprise to see you here, thought Haymitch bought enough for himself." Ripper says, after hushing me into her home. It had taken me almost an hour to find where she lives.
"That's not why I'm here, Ripper. It's a bit more ... unpleasant, really." I say, not sure now that I'm here. But I remember President Snow's announcement, and stand myself tall, staring the woman in the eyes. "From now on, I need you to stop selling your liquor to Haymitch. And Katniss." I say with a surprisingly level voice.
"Stop ... what on earth you chattering about, boy? Think because you're a Victor you can come here demanding things and – and-" she begins, sounding affronted.
"I think the Peacekeepers might be interested in how you run your business, Ripper." And she stops short at my threat, glancing me up and down with new eyes. I don't want to threaten this woman, but I know it's the only way. I need Haymitch to stop drinking, and I need Katniss to not start drinking.
"You threatening me, boy?" There's a fierceness in her eyes.
"Yes, because that's what it will take. If you continue to sell your liquor to Haymitch or Katniss, then I will be forced to tell the Peacekeepers that you're running a business in your home." I reach into my pocket and pull out some coins, dropping them in her hand. "Here's some money for your trouble. Will you do as I ask?" I ask, with one eyebrow lifted. She sighs, briefly counting the coins in her hand and shoving them in her pocket.
"Seems you've given me no choice. Haymitch won't be getting any more liquor from me." She says and I nod in satisfaction.
"One more thing – do you have a cardboard box I could use?" With a box in hand, I make my way back to the Victor's Village and walk straight in to Haymitch's house. He lifts his head from the table bleary eyed, looks at me, and then lowers his head again. I ignore him and start pulling out bottles of alcohol from his cupboards, draining the contents into the sink and placing the empty bottles in the box. I make my way through the house, picking out all the bottles I know he has hidden, and checking hiding places for any more I might not know of. It takes a long time but I finally finish, and make my way downstairs to where Haymitch is. He's awake now, and Katniss is sat at the table beside him. I dump the box full with empty bottles onto the table.
"There, it's done." Haymitch can barely see what's in front of him, not sure what it is he's looking at.
"What's done?" Katniss asks.
"I've poured all the liquor down the drain." I tell them both. Haymitch jumps up and starts pulling out the bottles in the box, looking for any signs of liquor.
"You what?" He cries in desbelief.
"I tossed the lot."
"He'll just buy more," Katniss says.
"No, he won't. I tracked down Ripper this morning and told her I'd turn her in the second she sold to either of you. I paid her off, too, just for good measure, but I don't think she's eager to be back in the Peacekeepers' custody." Haymitch swipes at me with the knife that is usually in his hand, but his movement is so slow and unsteady I easily dodge him.
"What business is it of yours what he does?" Katniss snaps in anger.
"It's completely my business. However it falls out, two of us are going to be in the arena again with the other as mentor. We can't afford any drunkards on this team. Especially not you, Katniss." I say, giving her a pointed look.
"What?" She sputters, looking shocked and embarrassed. "Last night's the only time I've ever even been drunk."
"Yeah, and look at the shape you're in." I've no time to be polite. Katniss turns to look at Haymitch.
"Don't worry, I'll get you more liquor." She tells him, and I bite back the anger.
"Then I'll turn you both in. Let you sober up in the stocks."
"What's the point to this?" Haymitch asks.
"The point is that two of us are coming home from the Capitol. One mentor and one victor. Effie's sending me some recordings of all the living victors. We're going to watch their games and learn everything we can about how they fight. We're going to put on weight and get strong. We're going to start acting like Careers. And one of us is going to be victor again whether you like it or not!" I storm from the room and slam the door behind me, leaving them both to stew in their misery. I say one of us, but I mean that Katniss and Haymitch are going to be coming home. I will do everything in my power to make it happen, and that means taking controlling. I realise that I haven't actually called Effie, so make my way back to my house and pick up the phone.
"Peeta! Oh my god Peeta, I can't believe it!" Effie shrieks down the phone after I introduce myself. It takes a few minutes to calm her down enough to speak to her.
"Effie! I need your help with something. I want all the recordings of every living Victor, so we can learn everything about their fighting skills."
"Oh, of course. I can do that for you. I'll get right on it and send them over."
"Thank you, Effie." I sigh in relief, because at least that's something out of the way and off my mind.
"How are you doi-" Effie begins, but I cut her off.
"Sorry Effie, I have to go now. Speak to you soon." I say briskly and hang up. I don't want to talk about how I am doing. I don't want to have any time to even think about how I am doing. I spend the rest of the day in the bakery.
It takes a few days, but eventually Haymitch and Katniss and agree to work with me in order to get to know the other Victors, and act like Careers. I spend most of my free hours watching the tapes that Effie had sent me, and scribbling down all of the information I can gather. Haymitch offers up some information about the personalities of the other Victors to help us as well, since he had met them all multiple times over the years. We start to understand a lot of basic information about those that we might be pitted against in a couple months.
We all do regular excercise and activities in order to strengthen our bodies. Mornings are dedicated to excercises, afternoons are for combat skills with weapons, and evenings are our breaks. Nobody tries to stop us from our training, even though it's not officially allowed. Perhaps they don't know that that is what we are doing, but rather think we have gone mad. As expected, Haymitch is the hardest on his improvements. Short runs leave him out of breath, although it's noticable that he's still strong. His hands are shaking constantly, so in combat excercises he can barely hit anything purposefully. Katniss and I do extremely well under the new regimen and those closest to us all help in their own way. Mrs Everdeen starts to control our diets to build up our muscles and keep away the fat, Madge slips us Capitol newspapers that were her father's, Prim treats our sore muscles after particularly hard excercise days, and Gale even stops by to teach us about snares. Having Gale there on a regular basis is awkward at first, but find that we both ease into an almost friendship. It's still a little tense, but I think that is mostly our own fault, trying desperately to hate the other person. Gale isn't that bad of a person, when he's not on morphling.