Author's Note: And then I noticed it, I really didn't know what to write in these Author's Notes anymore. Oh, yes, there'll be a changing on the rating pretty soon. Buckle up!
Chapter Two
Today is a big, big, big day. At least, that's what Effie Trinket says as she hops off the train. Yes, indeed she lands not too gracefully, but still, in her high heels shoes, it is a miracle she is not on reaching the ground with some part of her body other than her feet. She looks mostly unchanged from the last time we saw her, but somehow her outfit and her persona in general seem toned down to a more-normal-less-Capitol style. I suppose the Capitol citizens have not been well accepted in their weird attires and curious features by the new wave of people that have invaded the capital of Panem from the Districts. Still, she is wearing a wig, a white one this time, and her dress is more – I don't know – normal, I guess, but her make-up is certainly the most striking thing because we can almost see her actual features and I find myself thinking that she is almost prettier than when she wears makeup.
What I am sure she was not expecting was Peeta and I coming to the train station to meet her. Personally, I am there to see Venia, Flavius and Octavia, who are coming with her, but she can think whatever she wants. Peeta is probably there for her anyway. Also because she is there for Peeta too.
"Katniss!" she exclaims, kissing me on my cheek. "Peeta!" she cries, kissing him too. "It is so nice of you to come and meet me at the station," pipes Effie, while I am looking over her shoulder to see whether my prep team is coming out or not.
"Well, it is so nice of you to come and visit us in District 12," says Peeta, trying hard not to mimicry her Capitol accent which she didn't lose at all.
Effie smiles brightly. "Oh, but I had to come and see my little artist!" she chimes. "Everybody at the Capitol is talking about your beautiful paintings, or at least those you left there while recovering."
Finally I see them, my prep team. They look almost back to their old selves, brightly colorful hair and expressions like those of lost animals who are looking for their owner. They are on me as soon as I wave at them. "Katniss!" I hear my name screamed and then there are hugs and comments on my hair and nails and my eyebrows that grew back on my face. "We have everything we need to make you look gorgeous again," says Octavia. Flavius scolds at her, "Not that you are not gorgeous already," he adds, but lying is not his thing.
"I think I have a couple of hours to spare," I say graciously, not that I really want to go through that torture again, but they seem so eager to beautify me that I can hardly refuse them. It might also be a good time to get some unofficial news about the Capitol. Not that I mind too much, but I am curious as to how much it has changed.
They push me towards my house in the Victors' Village and I am surprised at how well they remember the way. After all, though, they were here only a few months ago, naturally that seems ages to me. My room becomes the beauty centre once more and amongst a waxing – that they felt it was necessary – and scrubs, they tell me the most juicy news of the Capitol. Not that mind terribly about the fact that wigs are going to be so out next season or about the new singing contest that Plutarch is going to launch in the fall.
"Oh, and guess what Katniss?" Flavius is absolutely overwhelmed and I feel some of my hair being pulled a bit too hard. "I am going to District Four for the holidays!"
I am not sure if it is for the fact that he says "I" (I have never even thought about the possibility of the three of them having private and separate lives) or for the actual piece of information.
"People are going to the Districts for the holidays?" People have holidays? But I guess they do in the Capitol and they have always done.
"Oh yes," says Octavia, "I think it's a wonderful idea to bring the country together. So many people are going to come to District 12."
Flavius coughs a little. "You don't mind if I don't, right Katniss? It is just that I've already been to District 12 more than any other District and I really wanted to go to the beach… and the overall appearance of 12 is so depressing…"
"Then why people would like to come here?" I ask, not bothered at all by his description of my home. Hordes of tourists in District 12 is just what I would not like.
Venia gives a shrilly laugh. "Because of you, Katniss," she says, mercilessly tearing hair after hair from my eyebrows. "And because of Peeta and his paintings too. Everybody wants to see you two."
I must have groaned because there is a chorus asking me if they have pulled too hard, filed too deep or waxed my skin in with the hair. I didn't even know that could happen and don't want to think about it at that moment, I just make a mental note to never let anyone wax me again. I shake my head and think at the tourists. Probably it is not that bad after all. Probably it is because of the expected tourists that they are building new things in the District and cleaning up the streets, making this place alive again. And Peeta and I can always leave the moment they arrive. I am sure that Haymitch will be a wonderful host and will answer any questions they might have about us.
When I am finally released from the torture I volunteered for, we all go downstairs. I find Peeta in the kitchen, baking cinnamon rolls for us all I guess. "Effie?" I ask as I can't see her anywhere.
"She thinks our house is fantastic, and is so thrilled that she can call it our house," he replies, absolutely not even trying to restrain himself from using a fake and hilarious Capitol accent. "She says she wants to represent me, something like my escort all over again, but this time not towards the Games, but towards success." He takes out the rolls from the oven and I grab one without even thinking that they are just boiling hot. Naturally, I let it fall back on the tray with the others and bring my freshly manicured hand to my mouth, sucking my fingers where it hurts the most.
"Are you okay?" asks Peeta concerned. He grabs my hand and, guiding me towards the sink, he pushes it under ice cold water.
"Are you going to the Capitol?" I ask suddenly. I don't even know why I am asking, but I don't have a nice feeling about it.
He looks at me weirdly. "I would never go back to the Capitol, you know that well enough," he says as if he was talking to a child.
"Then what does Effie want?"
"She wants me to go back to the Capitol," he says with a shrug. I don't know why, but I don't feel satisfied enough when he says that he will never go back. "She wants you to go back too," he adds casually.
Do I need to spell out N-E-V-E-R for him? No, probably not, but maybe to Effie… "So where is she?" He doesn't need to reply, because we hear a crash coming from the painting room and when we go and see Effie and the prep team look mortified. And they well should be, their carelessly movements have brought down a whole pile of paintings. "Octavia!" screeches Effie, her painted eyes wide open. "Careful, these are masterpieces!"
Peeta looks at them with unconcern, but I feel a surge of anger. How can they rummage through Peeta's work as if they had all the right in the world to do so? I don't know how Peeta can be so calm and that angers me even more. "What are you doing?" I ask, my voice a bit too dry to be pleasant. "That is Peeta's private life, you should not fumble through his works like that!" I try to tear a painting of the arena of the Quarter Quell from Venia's hands – she is the closer to me – but something holds me back. Peeta's hands on my shoulders, strong and warm, and I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he is firmly dragging me towards the kitchen again. I can see some crestfallen faces in the painting room as I scream that they have no heart.
"Katniss, it's all right," says Peeta softly, when we are standing in the kitchen alone. "I told Effie they could take as many as they want." Peeta is now right in front of me, his hands on my upper arms. I look at him with even more fury.
"Why would you do that?" I say coldly. "Why do you let them control you again?"
"Control me?" he says a bit taken aback. "I merely told them they could take some pictures for the new museum they are going to build in the Capitol. Some others are going to sell."
"That's your life Peeta!" I cry, and tears threaten to form at the corner of my eyes. I am very good pushing them back though. I have done that for years now. "They are going to exploit your life and your fears." I know perfectly well that painting is his therapy and that it helps him to get rid of his nightmares and all the bad memories we have piled up since we were 16.
Peeta's blue eyes, if possible, become even kinder. He pulls me towards himself and hugs me tightly and I feel like I don't really want him to let me go. Ever. "They are just paintings, Katniss," he says in the most soothing voice he can muster. "I don't mind if they take them, I don't need them anymore." He is stroking my back and I can smell cinnamon in his hair and on his neck too. "I paint them because I need to get rid of what they represent in my mind, I suppose it will only be an improvement if Effie helps us get rid of them from our house too."
I think about his words. I started to understand a few months back that if I want to win an argument with Peeta, then I don't have to let him speak at all. His words make sense, as always, and I can't help feeling a bit bad for the way I treated Effie and the prep team. Plus, if he didn't want them to take his paintings I don't think he would have permitted it. That was not an excess of kindness. He knows what he is doing perfectly well.
"You mean I have to apologize to Effie?" I groan, pressing my face in his neck.
Peeta chuckles. "You don't have to," he whispers, "but it would be nice."
I don't want to apologize to Effie, not at this very moment, that would mean I have to move away from Peeta. But a chorus of more or less hushed "awwws" disrupts the moment, so we let each other go and I reluctantly turn to face them.
Octavia is looking at us dreamingly, Flavius and Venia are on the verge of tears. Tears of joy I suppose. Effie is placing some paintings against the wall of the kitchen. She looks at me, a little bit unsure about what she might say, she is not at fault and she knows it, but she doesn't want to sound too smug when she talks to me. "Peeta said we could take some," she says in her Capitol accent.
"Yeah," I reply slowly, "I didn't know." Which is true and I am happy that I have at least a minuscule excuse for my behavior. "I'm sorry I screamed at you," I add quickly, hopefully too quickly for her to understand.
As always, graciously is the best adjective with which I can describe the way she accepts my excuses. "Well, I guess we have been a bit brusque ourselves with all this urgency about the paintings." She turns towards the prep team and asks Flavius if he can be a gentleman and call someone from the train to come and get the paintings. I am engulfed in a weird sort of merry-go-round of hugs and goodbyes as my prep team disappear out of the door. See? That's why I can't conceive them as three separate beings.
"I love your paintings, Peeta, they are so… dramatic," she says a bit too cheerfully. "Now," she adds, looking at a piece of paper in her hands, "we better go. We are just too late with our schedule." She doesn't seem to mind too much, though, since she is just smiling as she gives directions to some people that have come to collect the paintings. "I will just go and say hi to Haymitch," she adds. "Peeta, Katniss," she continues as if she was going to say the most important thing in the world. "We'll phone." She kisses us both and leaves.
The moment Effie is out of our door, Peeta lets out a groan. "My cinnamon rolls! I baked them for Effie and your prep team and I forgot to give them to them."
"Oh, that's terrible," I joke, "I suppose we will have to eat them all." I grab one with my burnt hand and suddenly remember that it still hurts, once again a roll rolls back on the tray. Peeta is more amused than concerned this time.
"Why don't you bring some to Effie while she is at Haymitch's?" he suggests placing some of the rolls on a nicer paper tray.
"I don't want to disturb them," I lie, sitting at the table across from where he is packing rolls.
"I think both of them will be happy to be disturbed, probably finding the reunion a bit embarrassing." He pushes the tray in front of me and laughs quietly when I roll my eyes and grab it.
I stand up and glare at Peeta, but he just smiles back at me and I feel like I could melt a bit. I walk past Buttercup and open the door, both for me and for the men that are taking the paintings with them. They wave goodbye and I can hear some of them saying something about the mockingjay and the girl on fire under their breath. I ignore them. The cinnamon rolls smell so good in my hands and I can't wait to give them to Effie. I know Peeta didn't send me out of laziness, but because my effort of saying I'm sorry to her was just not strong enough.
When I reach Haymitch's kitchen window I can hear something, probably a bottle, smashing and people speaking out loud. I can't hear what they are saying exactly, but here and there I get a high pitched tone from Effie or a growl from Haymitch. I consider my options, do I want to be in the middle of a discussion that will probably resolve like every other discussion they have always had, with one of them stomping out? The answer is no, so I decide to peer through the dusty windowpane and see when Effie is finally storming out of the house so as to meet her on the front. I stand on my toes and look inside. They are arguing all right, screaming at each other with all their might. Effie's wig is all messy. Haymitch's face is all red. I decide that I don't want to intrude any longer and slip down against the wall of the house. After a good fifteen minutes, the front door opens and I almost expect their cries to spread into the air like dust. Instead everything is quiet, except for Effie's heels on the tiles of the path that leads to the gate.
"Effie," I call as I try to catch up with her. She is definitely going faster than I would ever be able to if I were wearing that kind of shoes. She turns and the look on her face is undecipherable. For me at least. She tries to reposition her wig, but I suppose she doesn't know what part she should be moving it without a mirror and the effect is just comical.
"Peeta baked these for you," I say, pushing the tray in her hands. I look at her looking at the rolls and notice that her lipstick is all smeared and her eyes are not really focusing, nothing new there, right? I suppose Haymitch has tried to offer her something to drink and she has accepted out of politeness and they started fighting at that moment, probably about a comment on the cleanliness of the house. Or of the glass he offered her. I don't remember any clean glass in that house.
She regains her composure while I am still looking at her. "Well, isn't he a darling?" She smiles. "I will make sure that these will be given out to people at the Capitol. And let them know that it was Peeta who baked this." She smiles at me and disappears towards the station. Do I want to check on Haymitch? I can't hear anything, but it's that time of the year when he is always drunk, so I assume he is passed out somewhere and not that Effie had tried to kill him. Oh well, Peeta would check, so I just push the door open and call for him.
Weirdly enough there is a reply.
"I didn't know it was reunion day," he says, walking in front of the hall where I am standing, a glass in his hands. He downs half of the amber liquid and collapses on the couch.
"Is everything okay? Effie looked quite upset," I say, looking around and trying to understand if anything at all had been thrown by an angry Effie or Haymitch.
"Everything is splendid, sweetheart," he replies, not even looking at me.
"Haymitch…"
"What?!"
"There's lipstick on your glass," I say, pointing to it. He clearly took the one he offered Effie. "Maybe if you let Greasy Sae clean something in here, Effie wouldn't be so distressed every time she comes to visit."
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow quizzically, then he waves me goodbye and I hear him snoring even before I reach the door. Outside, I run back to the house because the big grey clouds that are coming from the woods can only carry rain.
When I walk into the kitchen, Peeta is still there. "Effie says…" My voice trails away, she didn't really say thank you, did she? "…that you are a darling."
He smiles softly, he is already making cheese buns for me, but now the rolls are cool and my hand is not hurting anymore, so I finally manage to grab one and bring it to my mouth without burning anything. I want to go hunting again, but I was right and the rain starts to pour down, I imagine Effie and the others hurrying towards the train and hope that the paintings are already in their carriage. If they are ruined it will be my personal pleasure to scream at Effie.