Chapter 2: The Girl with Silver Eyes

The woman named Portia had jet-black hair with a line of pale yellow on the last centimeter of her crisp bangs, cut on a 45-degree angle across her forehead. He stared at her eyelashes until he realized it wasn't the actual eyelashes that were pink; it was the tiny little feathers she'd glued to them.

"Feathers are all the rage," she smiled gently at him and she massaged the softening oil into his calloused hands.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare."

"No, no," she sighed. "That's why I wear them." She leaned in. "I think they're very silly too."

He blushed. "They're pretty."

She nodded in thanks.

"So Leevy is your sister?"

"Oh, no," he smiled. "We do look alike, but we're just both from the same part of town. Her father is the metalworker."

"What does your family do?" she asked in genuine interest.

"My mom's gone. She got sick," he told her softly.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's been a long time. Ten years, I think," Peeta counted. "I can't remember her that well. My dad is the baker," Peeta added fondly. "That's why I'm a little-"he blushed, looking down at his stocky body.

"Don't be embarrassed, Peeta," Portia said, gripping his arm. "Being fed will be of great advantage too you. There are children who have been starving their whole lives. They don't last very long," she whispered sadly.

His heart sank. "Leevy's eaten all right," he commented.

"Yes, she has. And her stylist tells me she loves chocolate cake. She wants it all the time."

"Is her stylist nice? She's...she's pretty scared," Peeta worried.

Portia smiled at him. "Cinna is very nice."

"You're going to set us on fire?" Leevy squeaked.

"It's not real fire," her stylist smiled. "It'll just look like fire." Peeta had liked Cinna instantly. He didn't need to tell him to be gentle and patient with Leevy. She seemed calmer when she was around the man with gold eyeliner and numerous earrings.

"But it won't hurt?"

"Not at all," Portia promised. "You won't feel anything."

"Leevy, if it hurts you tell me and I'll pull off your cape, okay?" Peeta assured her.

She nodded, but still looked a bit anxious.

"Line up! Tributes line up!" The call came over the speakers in the stables. Peeta glanced over and saw the familiar chariots being cued to leave the Training Center.

"Up you go," Cinna tried to cheer Leevy into the carriage. She stared at the horses in terror.

"C'mon." Peeta hopped up into the carriage. He reached his hands out and clasped hers. Cinna lifted her onto the platform next to Peeta.

"You're going to be amazing," Portia told them both. "You'll be the talk of the Capitol."

Peeta nodded. "Leevy, think of how excited your family is going to be to see you!"

Leevy's face brightened. "Mom and Dad are going to see me on fire," she whispered.

He nodded. "Give them a big smile, okay?"

"Okay."

The first chariot left the hall. Peeta and Leevy grabbed the railing. The second chariot left.

Leevy took a deep breath.

The sixth chariot left.

"Here goes nothing," Cinna murmured.

"Wait, what?" Peeta asked.

The eleventh chariot left.

Cinna struck the flint and their capes burst into sparks and flames.

The District Twelve chariot exploded out of the stables.

The gasps and screams melted into cheers. Thunderous applause rained down from the stands. Peeta grabbed Leevy's left hand and lifted it into the air. "Wave for your family," he told her.

The crowds screamed as she waved to all of Panem.

Peeta blew a kiss for Prim. A girl in a frightful orange dress in the first grandstand row tried to catch it. He forced a laugh for the cameras.

"Welcome, Tributes!"

President Snow's voice thundered out from the speakers surrounding them. Peeta thought it sounded like the man was inside his own head. He dropped his hands and gripped the railing as their chariot slowed in front of the Presidential Palace.

"We welcome you to the Capitol of Panem. You have all come to honor your Districts. One of you has come to earn the title of Victor!"

The crowd cheered. Leevy started to tremble. Peeta grabbed her hand again. He looked up at the balcony where Snow addressed them. His eyes followed the trail of diplomats and lackeys vying for a spot along the balcony, eager to be photographed near the President.

His eyes came to stop on the girl with the crown.

She was smiling down at the Tributes, the Victor's crown held aloft above her head as she demonstrated it. The President smiled at her as he gestured to the crown. Peeta frowned, trying to understand how so simple a girl ended up on the balcony. He could see Cashmere Catania and Enobaria Masse standing by her, adored in jewels and gold. But the girl didn't look like any past Victor he recognized.

Then Snow turned to the woman on his right and Peeta knew. The woman he knew as Esmeralda Snow, wearing the emblem of Panem as an amulet, had passed her dark looks down to her daughter.

She was Katniss Snow.

He was still staring at her when she looked to his chariot. Her eyes were so silver they looked like a liquid mirror, even from so far away.

They made him shiver.

"Nice trick with the flames," the boy from One sneered.

Peeta didn't think Marvel was being sincere. Not with the glares the other Career Tributes were throwing in his direction. He mumbled, "Thanks," and hurried off to the camouflage station.

The Training Center was about three times the size of the public square in Twelve. It was filled with nets, supplies, plants, and weapons. Weapons as far as he could see. Peeta shuddered. He focused on Gale's words.

Learn everything.

He sat down on the ground and pulled over a case of paints and brushes.

"Hello, Male Twelve," the trainer smiled.

"I'm Peeta," he said.

"Oh, I can never remember all your names. You'll just be another Twelve to me," she laughed.

He tried not to narrow his eyes at her callousness.

"Have you painted before?" she asked, oblivious to his irritation.

"Yes. I decorate cakes," he mumbled as he opened the pack.

The trainer chuckled. "I hope you'll meet a lot of frosting in the Arena!"

He glared at her.

Then the beautiful blond girl from One was standing by the Trainer. "Glacier," she smiled.

"Glimmer! It's such a pleasure to meet you in person. I've heard so much about you from Tanzanite," the trainer fawned. "I hear the odds are in your favor."

Peeta bristled and focused on painting. He wondered if he should even bother. Glimmer and Cato were famous; known to have trained since they were toddlers for this. The girl Clove, from Two, had already pierced a sparring dummy with so many knives they had to retire it from the Training Center. Marvel wasn't even trying. He just leaned against the wall and watched the timid and underfed children struggling to climb and run and tie knots with a snide smile.

Peeta was only 'Male Twelve'.

Then his eyes found Leevy. She was trying to climb a wall made to look like a rock face. She was stretching her arms as high as she could. She slipped and tumbled down to swing on the harness like a doomed fly in a spider's web. He saw Cato and Clove cover their laughter.

He pushed the paints away. He stood up and walked over to her.

The trainer untangled her and Leevy stood up. Her face was crestfallen.

"How are you doing?" he asked her.

She shook her head miserably.

"You should push with your feet, not pull with your hands."

"What?" she sniffled.

"I did this yesterday. Your legs are stronger than your arms," he told her. "Find a foothold first then push up. Just use your hands to brace yourself, use your legs to climb."

She looked at the wall dubiously.

"I'll climb with you."

The trainer helped him into a second harness and they started up the wall.

"There's a foothold to your right."

Leevy looked down. She set her foot into the dip and pushed upward. Her fingers found the outcropping of rock above. She smiled. "I'm doing it."

"You are," he smiled. He climbed a few steps above her and then waited.

They reached the top and he pulled her after to sit on the rock face and observe the training floor.

Leevy was quiet.

"You did a good job," he told her. "You got all the way up here."

"With you. I won't be able to do that in the Arena."

He looked at Glimmer shaking hands with Clove and Cato. She motioned for Marvel to join her.

"Then we'll work together in the Arena."

Leevy looked up. "What?"

"They're making allies down there. Why can't we be allies?"

"You'd ally with me?'

"Of course I would!"

Leevy smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled at the children below. "Who else should we pick?"

"Her."

Leevy was pointing straight ahead. He squinted to see what she was pointing out. A wide brown eye was looking back from a rope net slung across the ceiling. She was only fifteen feet in front of him. The minute girl from Eleven saw them watching her in her nest and offered a shy smile.

Peeta whistled. "Definitely her."

Leevy looked anxious when the trainer explained they need to rappel down, but Peeta gave her a grin and jumped easily into the harness' safety. She stuck out her tongue, held out her arms and dove to the ground with a smile.

As they removed their harnesses, Peeta heard a small commotion erupt from where the Gamemakers watched them. Someone has arrived, he thought. A gregarious middle-aged man was striding around like a peacock, congratulating himself on his own success.

"Seneca Crane," he heard the man with the strange beard say as he introduced himself to a man with purple striped skin.

Peeta looked around at the group of spectators. They were all buffoonish, he decided. Old, slovenly men, a cold, sharp looking woman, a fat middle-aged person whose gender he couldn't discern under the layers of feathers.

The black-haired girl caught his eye. Her piercing silver eyes were looking back at him.

He wondered if he should look away. But she continued to openly stare. So he stared back. Not knowing what to do, he finally offered her a bow, a slight nod of his head. He lifted his chest back up to see her reaction. She smiled and nodded.

Then Seneca Crane was at her side, fawning over her and offering her a glass of candy pink liquid.

Peeta blinked and turned around. Leevy was frowning at the girl. "Who is that?" she asked.

Peeta tried to keep his voice low. "That's President Snow's daughter."

"Why would she come down here?"

Peeta was looking at her when Katniss' eyes found him again.

"I don't know."

Haymitch found him drooling on top of his notebook on their lynx-skin sofa.

"Peeta. Hey. Wake up," he said, shaking him. Peeta grumbled and opened his eyes. Haymitch eyed him.

"Why aren't you in your bed?"

"Why aren't you?" Peeta yawned. He looked at the clock. "It's three am."

"I don't like to sleep at night," Haymitch said, as though that made sense. "What's all this?" he gestured to the papers and tapes all over the floor.

"Studying," Peeta said.

"Studying."

"Yeah," he sighed. He rubbed his eyes. "The District Mentors all seem to have a specific training style," he noted. "Two is good with swords and knives with their metalworking plants. Four is good with finding water and collecting rain. Seven are the best with the axes and building fires," he counted. "I was hoping I could see a pattern in how people died. To know how and when to climb, run, swim…you know?"

Haymitch was staring.

"What?" Peeta asked.

"You're pretty damn smart."

"I wasn't exactly good at sports," Peeta admitted. "I didn't get picked for any school teams. I just…studied."

Haymitch dropped down on to the sofa next to him. "Athleticism does help," he conceded. "But you can't dismiss brains. It'll keep you alive…" he stopped.

"For a while," Peeta finished for him.

"Yeah," Haymitch sighed. "I, um. I – the train."

"It's okay," Peeta said. "I know we should be scared. I just felt bad for her."

"No, you were right. I don't usually get Tributes who are willing to fight so hard. Most are just glad to have food before they die."

"You usually get Seam kids," Peeta murmured.

"Yeah. Two Merchants are kind of rare."

"Seam families have more kids," Peeta said simply. "Helps with the work that needs to be done. Gale has two brothers and a sister."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah. My best. Like a brother," Peeta remembered. "He's been trading game he hunts for bread for years. I think he felt bad for me after my mom died. He lost his dad a year before in the mines." Peeta looked at the stack of tapes on the floor. "I'm glad it was me that got picked and not him."

Haymitch looked surprised.

"He brings in food for his family. I couldn't do what he does."

He was quiet for a long time before saying, "You're a decent guy, Mellark."

Peeta smiled. "You are too, Haymitch. Despite your best efforts to convince us otherwise."

Haymitch laughed. "Go to bed."

"I'm going to see if Leevy wants some water. She's been waking up with bad dreams."

He looked at the spot where Peeta had been sitting until the sun rose.

Caesar Flickerman was wearing purple glitter on his lips. It was hard to focus on what he was saying.

"And you decorate the cakes, I understand?"

"Um, yes," Peeta answered his eyes on the glitter. "I make cakes and cookies and some of the pastries."

"Do you have a sweet tooth?" Caesar grinned.

Peeta blushed. "I think it's a bit obvious I do."

The crowd laughed appreciatively.

"I'm glad the Arena will give me a chance to work off a few pounds," he joked. Caesar giggled.

"I think you're just adorable," he told Peeta, pinching his cheek. "Isn't he?"

The viewers screeched and cheered. Peeta smiled. Leevy had been nervous and awkward. He had to win back their affection for Twelve.

"How did you feel about those flames?"

"I was pretty nervous," he admitted with a smile. "But Cinna and Portia are incredibly gifted, and you've got to trust that sort of natural talent."

"And it was incredible, wasn't it?"

Peeta smiled slyly. "Do you want to see more?"

"You have them on now?" Caesar was enthralled.

Peeta winked. He stood up and walked to the edge of the stage. He hoped it worked the way Portia said it would. He snapped his arms up from his sides quickly, jerking the palms at a 180-degree angle and said a quick prayer.

The arms of the coal-black suit he wore burst into flame.

The viewers screamed and gasped.

He held his arms straight out and slowly turned all the way around. When he was sure they were all watching he gave them a genial wave, letting the flames swirl lazily around with him.

The applause was ear-splitting.

He grinned and tugged on his cuffs. The flames evaporated as though they were a dream. Caesar was nearly falling out of his chair.

"That was extraordinary!"

"Thank you," Peeta laughed. He slipped back to the seat by Caesar. "I'm sizzling a little!"

"That was so very special, thank you for showing us."

"Actually, that was for my sister."

"Your sister?"

Peeta nodded. "Um. Today is my little sister's birthday. I usually make her a cake, but this year," he paused and swallowed. "This year I couldn't. So I was the birthday candle for her," he rushed, trying to maintain the cheerful facade.

"She must be a lovely young lady," Caesar said gently.

"She's the best there is," Peeta agreed.

"And is there anything you'd like to tell her?"

Peeta glanced at the bank of cameras trained on him.

"I'll win for you, Prim."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Caesar tried to rein in the exuberant audience. "Ladies and gentlemen! Peeta Mellark! District Twelve!"

Peeta jogged off stage to escape the intense noise. The crowd screamed for him long after he was gone.

"Peeta!" Effie breathed. "So well done! So well done."

Haymitch was standing with Leevy. She was looking at her shiny black shoes buckled with a plastic butterfly.

"Nice work," Haymitch agreed as they found their way to an elevator to return to their room.

Haymitch and Effie took another to discuss strategy to get sponsors. Peeta waited with Leevy for the next elevator.

"You were really good."

"Thanks, Leevy."

"They didn't like me that much."

The elevator door opened and he guided her inside. "Sure they did."

"I sounded stupid. Talking about my watercolors and how much I like making earrings."

"Leevy, you can make fishhooks faster than anyone because of those earrings! You're going to feed us. Besides, it doesn't matter," he told her. "We're a team. They'll like us as a team."

The elevator door opened.

Peeta was shocked to see Haymitch was pale and waiting for him.

"Effie's going to help you get ready for bed, Leevy," he told her. He pushed her into Effie's arms. Even Effie looks flustered. The girls shuffled away quickly towards Leevy's room.

"Haymitch, what-"

"There's someone waiting to see you."

Haymitch's face was set like stone. Peeta knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Where?"

"In your room."

"My room?" he whispered. "Is it an ally offer?"

"Go."

Peeta stumbled to the door. Who could possibly be there to see him? Who could frighten Haymitch after what he'd seen?

She was at his night table. Holding the photo of Prim. His breath caught in his throat. Her silver eyes saw him in the doorway.

"She's beautiful."

"My little sister."

"I know." She smiled. He felt fear zip through his nerves. She set the picture back down.

"You were at training the other day," he remembered.

"Yes," she smiled again. She seemed to glide over to him. She held out her hand, knuckles upturned for him to kiss her hand. "Katniss Snow."

He took her hand and pressed his lips to her skin. She smelled like roses. He looked up at her. "I know."

She smiled. He shivered again.

She strode across to his window. "You can see the Presidential Palace from here. Where I live. I can see you too."

He imagined the silver eyes peering at him out of pitch blackness.

"I'd very much like to see more of you," she said suddenly.

"How kind of you," he choked. "I don't know how that will work with my going in two days-"

"You'll join me for dinner. Tonight."

He was silenced.

"I promise you dinner with me is far more…entertaining than with your Mentor," she chirped with a giggle.

He swallowed hard. "I should make sure he's all right with it."

"Oh, he'll be fine," she dismissed.

"Oh." He saw his last night as his own person receding into darkness.

"I'll let you change. See you in an hour." She moved to leave and stopped at his side. She brushed her fingernails along his cheek and neck as she slipped past him. He heard her bid goodbye to Haymitch. The door clicked shut.

Haymitch was at his side.

"I'm…what do I do?" he asked him helplessly.

Haymitch sighed. "Whatever she wants."

"But I've never…I don't know how to…" Peeta started to hyperventilate. "I don't want to."

"Peeta, stop," Haymitch jumped in front of him and grabbed his shoulder. "Stop. Whatever she wants, you give it to her. If she likes you, you might survive this."

"She'll make me win?" He sniffled. "If I…?"

"She could have you crowned Victor as soon as you step off the pad," he said.

"Can we just do that instead?" Peeta joked forlornly.

"No, she knows as well as you do they need a show," Haymitch sighed. "But your chances just got a lot better."

"Right on time," she smiled. She had tiny lavender feathers glued to the outside corners of her eyelashes.

He tried to think of what to say. She'd sent the car for him; she knew what time he'd arrive. He thought of Haymitch's advice. "I didn't want to keep you waiting."

"Then come inside."

The door thudded closed behind him. He realized her room was actually an entire apartment inside the mansion. He was standing in a parlor larger than three Merchant houses combined. Probably five Seam houses. The floors were marble throughout and the ceiling was twenty feet high. A chandelier dripped diamonds and gilded katniss flowers.

"The dining room is right this way," she purred.

He watched her long black hair shine as the ornate curls dripped down from a diamond barrette. The long lavender dress was as beautiful as it was sheer. He swallowed hard and tried to keep looking at the floor. It could be all right, he tried to convince himself. He'd probably be dead in a few days. Along with a number of the other Tributes.

She spun around and caught him trying to focus on her face. Her lips curled into a smile. "Do you like my dress?"

"It's very…nice," he forced out.

She glanced down. "I can see you think so," she grinned. He grasped his hands in front of his body. She giggled and moved to the table. It was nearly twelve feet long, yet only two places had been set catty-corner at one end. Silver serving dishes were waiting for them.

"I hope you don't mind a lack of table service," she said, eyeing him as he held her chair and pushed it in for her.

"Not at all," he told her, relieved to sit down adjacent to her, hidden behind the table.

"I thought we would enjoy more privacy this way."

He bit his cheek.

"This is a beautiful room," he tried.

"Apartment," she told him. "These four rooms are mine. I have my room, a guest room, the sitting room, and the dining room. And the bathrooms," she added. "For tidying up."

Her cheeks darkened this time as she smiled her wicked little smile. His blood froze.

He stood up. "I can't, I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"What?" she gasped.

"I know I'm probably going to die now, I get it, I'm really sorry. I just can't make this kind of trade."

She stared at her reflection in the silver tureen.

"I'm just," he sputtered uselessly. "I'm sorry."

She looked at her nails. He saw they were painted to match her dress.

"Do you not find me pretty?" she asked in a small voice.

"Of course I do!" he stammered. "But I can't do this as a trade for help in the Arena. I'm sorry," he repeated painfully. "I just…the other Tributes... I can't ensure their death by doing this. I'd rather it be fair."

She looked at him sideways. "But you do think I'm pretty?" she asked fretfully.

He was confused. "Yes. You're beautiful," he said. He looked at her face, coated in elaborate makeup. He could barely see her skin to know if he was telling the truth.

"Oh. Okay," she mumbled. She frowned. "Um. Do you still want to eat?"

He looked at the table. "Well..."

"I guess. I could have my maid make you a plate. If you want to go," she said. He watched her pick at her nail polish. "I had them make squirrel for you. I'm not going to eat it," she said.

"What?"

"Effie said you liked squirrel. I had my chef make you squirrel." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not going to eat it, though. You can have it all."

"I don't like squirrel," he explained. "It's just all we can afford to trade for-" He cut himself off. "That was very thoughtful of you," he realized out loud.

"Don't mention it," she muttered. She stood up. "Well I feel completely stupid in this dress now, I'm going to change."

She swept out of the dining room. He couldn't help but watch her go.

"Goodnight," She yelled over her shoulder. The door to her bedroom slammed.

He stood alone in the dining room.

"What the hell do I do now?" he asked the crystal bowl of quail eggs.

Her maid arrived a moment later. "Miss Katniss rang me that you needed a plate made?"

"Oh. Yes. Thank you."

The kindly old woman smiled and bowed as she wheeled a cart over from the fireplace and loaded the serving dishes back up. "Miss wasn't hungry?" she asked, frowning at the fullness of the platters.

"I think I spoiled her appetite," Peeta sighed.

The maid nodded thoughtfully. "Well," she murmured. "It does us all a little good to not get our own way from time to time." Peeta missed his father terribly as the gentle woman poured a large portion of casserole into a coated paper box. He could smell the squirrel meat, along with broccoli and a tangy sauce he couldn't place. The delicious aromas reawakened the hunger that his fear had overpowered.

She handed him the box and led him towards the door.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "I appreciate it."

She smiled.

Katniss' bedroom door flew open. "Sae! I want my-" She stopped when she saw Peeta was still there.

An unexpected smile found his lips.

Her pajamas pants had little horses printed on the fabric and she wore a tee shirt with a popular former Victor's face screen printed across the front. He spied a tattered stuffed bear sitting on her pillow through the open door.

Her hair was down now, pulled back in a braid. She'd washed her face and he could see her true, simple prettiness. It wasn't overwhelming or stunning. He could imagine she felt very plain in the Capitol.

She looked like she could be from Twelve.

She frowned at his presence and pouted. She marched back into her room and slammed her door.

Sae chuckled softly and let Peeta outside. "Go on to that housekeeping station, right over there," she pointed. "They'll find a valet to take you to the Training Center."

He thanked her again. Before she shut the door, he stopped her. "Miss Sae?"

"Yes?"

"Does she…have guests…often?"

Sae smiled knowingly at him. "No."

She closed the door.