Catching Fire in Peeta's Point of View
Chapter Eleven
I wake up to sunlight streaming into the room, and have to blink a few times to rid the sleep from my eyes. It's almost a new feeling, having a full night's sleep. I notice Katniss stirring at my side, and smile to myself.
"No nightmares," I say.
"No nightmares," she confirms. "You?"
"None. I'd forgotten what a real night's sleep feels like," I admit. For a while, we just lay in bed and enjoy the company of one another. It's relaxing, and I know that I wouldn't mind spending all of my mornings like this. I don't want to get out of the bed, because out of the bed means Interview prepping, and walking around for Effie, and being reminded that I'll be dead in a few days. The red headed Avox girl enters the room rather timidly. She hands over a note from Effie, which Katniss reads out loud to me. Apparently, because of our recent tour, she and Haymitch have agreed that we can handle ourselves. The coaching session are cancelled, and we have the day to ourselves.
"Really?" I ask, taking the note and running my eyes over it quickly. "Do you know what this means? We'll have a whole day to ourselves."
"It's too bad we can't go somewhere," Katniss sighs.
"Who says we can't?" I ask her with a smile.
We may not be able to go out of the building and explore the Capitol, but we still have the roof. We order a lot of food and get some blankets, making our way up to the roof for a day long picnic. We sit in the small garden, where the wind chimes tinkle all day and we lie in the sun and lounge around. Katniss practices tying knots with the hanging vines, and I sketch portraits of her. We play a game with the force field and apples, and eat the food we'd ordered.
When we settle down again, Katniss rests her head in my lap, weaving flowers together in order to make a crown. I begin twisting her hair, and when she asks what I'm doing, I tell her that I'm practising my knots. I'm overcome with just how pleasant it all is, that I stop in my weaving.
"What?" Katniss asks, when she notices my hands go still.
"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live it in for ever," I admit to her.
"Okay," Katniss suddenly says. It's surprising, but I allow a slow smile to spread over my face.
"Then you'll allow it?" I ask her.
"I'll allow it." My fingers return to her, and I continue weaving small knots into her hair, even after she falls asleep. I shake her shoulder gently when the sun begins to set, because it's a spectacular view behind the skyline of the colourful Capitol.
"I didn't think you'd want to miss it," I tell her when she wakes.
"Thanks." We sit and enjoy the view, watching the sky fall into the darkness, but the Capitol stays alight. We stay up on the roof when nobody calls us to dinner, which is quite a relief. The atmosphere isn't a pleasant one with everybody else.
"I'm glad." I tell Katniss. "I'm tired of making everyone around me so miserable. Everybody crying. Or Haymitch ..." I allow the sentence to fall, because I'm certain Katniss knows what I mean. She nods in agreement.
We finally leave the roof when we decide we need to sleep, and slip down to Katniss' room quietly. There's nobody around, so we go unnoticed. We fall straight to sleep again, and I sleep peacefully until Katniss' Prep team wake us up. At the sight of us together, one of them bursts into tears, although I don't know her name.
"You remember what Cinna told us," another says, which causes the first to burst from the room. Katniss doesn't look surprised by this, but I find it entirely disorientating.
"I best … get to my own room." I say, getting out of the bed slowly. I feel like any sudden movements might set off the remaining two. I leave and make my way to my own room, where of course my own Prep Team are waiting.
"There you are! Where have you been?" One demands.
"Sorry, I slept in Katniss' room," I tell them. There's a squeak of surprise, and my Prep Team are all looking … sad. One has a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in shock.
"Oh! It's just so unfair." Oh, not these guys, too. I sigh in my mind.
"Don't we have work to be doing?" I ask, reminding them of why they're here. They flutter around me and get to work, getting me ready for my interview. I'm relieved when they finally leave, because their tears and attempts to not cry are starting to irritate me. Because they put a lump in my throat. These three, odd, chatty Capitol people who have been there with me. It appears they've made some kind of impression on me, and I on them. Portia steps into the room, holding a long bag that has my clothes in. She doesn't say anything, and it looks like there's a hard set in her expression, like she's upset over something. I hope she doesn't start crying, too. Because I won't be able to handle that.
I see what the problem is, when she unzips the clothing bag. It holds a black tuxedo, and there's a set of white gloves to go with it. This is what a groom would wear in a Capitol wedding.
"Oh, no. No." I whisper, and Portia turns her head to me. "Is she going to be in one of the-" Portia nods. She knows what I mean.
"It was President Snow's doing. We had no choice." She tells me, and I nod. It doesn't surprise me. He has made us a Bride and Groom for our Interview, to humiliate us further. To me, it's a personal reminder that I won't get my wedding with Katniss. It's then that I get an idea for my Interview tonight. I have to upstage myself from the year before, and I think I know just how to do that. The audience loves us as the Star Crossed lovers, so I shall really play up that status.
We go down to meet the others, and I'm blown away by Katniss in her dress. She looks stunning, but she also looks a lot like she had in one of my dreams. I try not to dwell on it, because my emotions are already running wild. Portia had started crying when she helped me dress, and I had to take a lot of deep breaths to stop myself from sobbing with her. There will be time for that later.
When Katniss and I reach the other Tributes, all of their conversations halt, their eyes turning on us. Everybody seems to be glaring at Katniss in her wedding dress. There's a long, silent pause between everyone, but Finnick finally breaks it.
"I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing," he says.
"He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him." Katniss is quick to defend Cinna.
"Well you look ridiculous!" Cashmere retorts, leading her brother to their place in line. Everybody else starts lining up, but a lot of them stop to pat us on the shoulder in sympathy. Johanna pauses to adjust Katniss' necklace.
"Make him pay for it, okay?" Katniss nods, but I don't think she really knows what Johanna means. We all make our way onstage and sit in our seats, watching in silence as Ceasar Flickerman begins the show. The Tributes all seem to have an agenda in their interviews, one similar to my own. There's a sense of rage in almost all of them, from being betrayed by the Capitol. Yet, they play this in a superb way during their interviews, to reflect on the government and President Snow. There's talk of the deep bond between Victors and the audience, and can we not do something? How can the government sever that bond so cruelly? There's a question of the legality of this Quarter Quell, and if President Snow is all powerful, why doesn't he change it? It's all fantastic, and has the crowd raging and demanding for a change.
It's absolute madness by the time Katniss makes her way to the stage, and it takes most of her three minutes just to silence the crowd enough for Ceasar Flickerman to speak. Most of the crowd are in hysterics because of Katniss in her wedding gown, realising that this Quarter Quell means the end of Katniss, our relationship, and the wedding everyone was excited for.
"So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?" Ceasar asks her, when he's finally managed to quiet the crowd.
"Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding … but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just … the most beautiful thing?" She begins to twirl, lifting her arms up for the audience. There are shrieks and screams in the crowd, because smoke has begun to rise around Katniss' feet. The smoke billows up around her and becomes thicker, and it looks like there's some kind of flames devouring the wedding dress. I have to tense my body and grasp the arms of the chair, to stop myself from leaping up and putting out the flames.
But I don't, because I know this has something to do with Cinna. I glance quickly at the crowd, picking him out. He looks calm, confirming that this is planned. The smoke finally clears, and Katniss is no longer in a wedding dress, but a suit of feathers, with wings at her back that are patched with white. The white headdress is now a black veil, flowing into the back of the dress.
"Feathers," Cinna says in wonder, reaching out to feel the dress. "You're like a bird."
"A mockingjay, I think." Katniss replies. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token." Also, the sign of the rebellion. Nothing Cinna does is ever unintentional.
"Well, hats off to your stylist. I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!" The cameras turn on Cinna, and he takes a small bow. The silent audience explode in their applause, and then the buzzer sounds.
It's my turn.
I get up and make my way to the stage, unable to look at Katniss when we pass one another. Perhaps I should have told her about my plan this time around, even though I'd only really thought of it an hour ago. Ceasar and I joke about fire and burnt poultry, in order to grab the audience's attention, and lighten the mood. Although I plan to dampen that mood very soon. I start fidgeting, wanting to get into the real conversation, because I have to fit it in before the buzzer sounds.
"So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?"
"I was in shock," I recall. "I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next … " I don't finish the sentence, allowing Ceasar to pick it up instead.
"You realised there was never going to be a wedding?" I pause, for a long time. Pretending to make a decision. I glance at the audience, then the floor, and finally at Ceasar.
"Ceasar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?" The audience laughs uncomfortably, but I can tell they are intrigued.
"I feel quite certain of it."
"We're already married." I tell him quietly.
"But … how can that be?" Ceasar asks me.
"Oh, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it's like in the other districts. But there's this thing we do … A couple light their first fire in their marital home, and toast some bread to share. It's a small ceremony, but every married couple in District Twelve does it on the night of their marriage.."
"Were your families there?" If I say yes, they'll send camera crews right out to interview those people, and I don't know what President Snow might do to them.
"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss' mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it. And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us."
"So this was before the Quell?" Ceasar asks.
"Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," my voice hitches a little. "But who could've seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere … I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"
"You couldn't, Peeta," his arms slides around my shoulders in an attempt of comfort. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together." There's loud applause from the crowd.
"I'm not glad," I say through it. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially," I say. Ceasar is shocked at my confession.
"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?" He asks.
"Maybe I'd think that, too, Ceasar," I make my tone bitter, which isn't too hard considering my rage at the moment. "If it weren't for the baby." I add. It takes a minute or two for the audience to realise what this means. There are mutterings throughout, people confirming to one another. And then come to wails and shrieks, and the crowd is in such uproar that Ceasar cannot contain them. The buzzer sounds beneath the cries of the audience, so I nod and sit back down. When we stand, I instantly reach out for Katniss' hand and she takes hold of it. The tears I've been keeping at bay the past few days break from me, and start to roll down my cheeks. It's a good touch for the cameras.
And suddenly, all of the Victors are joining hands, some uncertainly and some right away. But when the anthem finishes, we are all holding hands and joined in a unity between the Districts. The screens begin to go black, but not in time. All of those around Panem have seen this act. The lights on the stage go out and there's a lot of confusion, but I manage to steady myself enough to guide myself and Katniss to one of the elevators. A Peacekeeper blocks off Finnick and Johanna when they try to join us in the elvator, so we are left to shoot up in it alone.
When we step out, I instantly grab Katniss' shoulders. "There isn't much time, so tell me. Is there anything I have to apologise for?" I ask her, worrying that she's angry all over again.
"Nothing," she tells me and I sigh in relief. We wait tensely, for the others to arrive, but only Haymitch steps out of the elevator.
"It's madness out there. Everyone's been sent home and they've cancelled the recap of the interviews on television." Katniss and I rush to the windows, to view the Capitol below, in complete disarray.
"What are they saying? Are they asking the president to stop the Games?" I ask, perhaps a little too hopeful.
"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here. But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?" He asks slowly. I know this, of course I do.
"The others went home?" Katniss asks.
"They were ordered to. I don't know how much luck they're having getting through the mob."
"Then we'll never see Effie again," I tell her, which makes me a little sad if I'm honest. I had wanted one final goodbye, to thank her. "You'll give her our thanks."
"More than that. Really make it special. It's Effie, after all." Katniss adds. "Tell her how appreciative we are and how she was the best escort ever and tell her … tell her we send our love." We stand there for a while, not wanting to speak, or move. But Haymitch finally says what we all don't want to think.
"I guess this is where we say our goodbyes as well."
"Any last words of advice?" I ask him.
"Stay alive," he says in a gruff voice. He embraces us both quickly. "Go to bed. You need your rest."
"You take care, Haymitch." After all we've been through, it's all I can think to say. I don't want to set off the emotions in the room. Katniss and I cross the room, but Haymitch stops us.
"Katniss, when you're in the arena," he pauses and scowls.
"What?"
"You just remember who the enemy is. That's all. Now go on. Get out of here." Katniss and I walk down the hallway, and I pause by my room.
"I just want to take a quick shower, get rid of all this make up. I'll meet you in a few minutes?" I suggest, but Katniss shakes her head and continues to grasp my hand. She pulls me into her room, and I use her shower instead.
We lay in bed, holding on to one another, silent so as not to disturb one another in the event of someone getting some sleep. I don't know if I do actually fall asleep at any point, but think I might doze here and there. As soon as dawn arrives, so do Cinna and Portia. I get out of the bed, giving Katniss a quick and light kiss. We aren't allowed to enter the arena together, so I have to go with Portia to get ready. I'm not keen on leaving Katniss, but I also want some alone time with Portia, to say my goodbye.
"See you soon," I tell Katniss.
"See you soon." I turn and leave, going to my own room with Portia. We wait a little while, and then head up to the roof. I step up onto the hovercraft, which freezes me in place and pulls me up. A doctor arrives and injects the tracker into my arm, which I aren't as nervous for like the year before. I still don't like needles. In the hovercraft, Portia and I are mostly silent. Only speaking when she makes me eat some bread and sip water. It's not an appetising breakfast, but it's all I can manage. The nerves are knotting my stomach, and I fear I will throw up if I eat any more.
It's worse than the year before. I had been nervous, of course, going into the unknown. This year, I know what it's like, to some extent. I know what it's like to see someone die before you, to watch a person take the life of another. Last year going into the arena, I had been fond of Katniss, very fond. This year, I am madly in love with her, and I have no idea what is going to happen. I am going to do all it takes to keep her alive, like I had the year before. The only exception this year, is that President Snow loathes Katniss, and will mostly likely have ordered the Gamemakers to make sure she dies. I have to fight against the President to keep her alive.
We enter the Launch room and I shower quickly, because I know it will feel like forever before I get into one again. Portia helps me to dress in the blue jumpsuit, which zips up the front. We make a few theories of what the outfit might mean for the arena, although I do not understand the purple, padded belt. Portia pulls something from her pocket, something gold. The light glints on it, and I see the mockingjay engraved on the front. A nice touch. She hands it over silently and I open the locket quickly, to glance at the smiling pictures of Mrs Everdeen, Prim, and Gale. This will be my token this year. I smile at her.
"Thank you," I say, and there's so much behind the two words. Portia seems to be struggling to keep a straight face and I suddenly embrace her tightly. She clings to me and we stay like that for a long while. "You've been such a good friend, Portia. Thank you. So much, for everything." I tell her, my voice beginning to tremble.
"Oh, please. You're going to ruin my make up!" She tries to laugh, but it's half hearted. I pull back, placing my hands reassuringly on her shoulders.
"Don't worry, Portia." I try to smile, but it falters.
"How can I not worry when I know – know that – you don't -" She doesn't fight her tears now, and I have to chew on my lower lip to prevent myself from crying with her. A voice interrupts us, telling me that I must prepare for the launch. Portia walks the little way with me, dabbing at her eyes and damp cheeks. She manages to hold herself for one last, quick hug before I step onto the circular plate.
"I'll see you on the other side," I smile crookedly, and she steps back as the glass cylinder lowers. She doesn't say anything more, but continues to dab at her eyes. Nothing happens, and I frown, but Portia looks as confused as I do. We wait in our confusion for a minute or two, but then the plate begins to rise. I place my hand against the glass briefly, and mouth a goodbye to Portia. She disappears as the plate rises further. I straighten my shoulders, remembering my imaginary sack of flour to stand taller.