Chapter 7:
I sleep peacefully in Peeta's arms that night, but wake up the next morning with a sense of anxiety at how Prim and Paavo will take Haymitch's announcement. I bounce out of bed, quickly run home to change, and am out at Haymitch's house at 8 a.m. sharp. Of course, Haymitch doesn't want to stand there and shout it from the rooftops, so he suggests that we take a walk into town to pick up some additional supplies. Peeta and I walk along with them, not having to speak, as Haymitch whispers the plans. Their reactions are not surprising- Prim gives a visible sigh of relief, and looks genuinely excited to be any part of a scheme meant to challenge the Capitol. Paavo remains composed, nods his head in assent to the plan- but you can see that he looks just a hair disappointed. That's what the Hunger Games will do to you. Tributes think of the glory, the riches, everything worth fighting for in the end- which is the only thing that keeps it going. But Haymitch reassures Paavo that what we'll all be doing will result in a much greater sense of accomplishment, and Paavo seems more enthusiastic with regard to Haymitch's plans after that.
In the town square, we pick up a few miscellaneous items that Prim and Paavo need for their training- replenishing the camouflaging materials, looking for anything that could substitute as a body-double for a tribute (on which they can practice their weaponry), and anything to simulate what either of them could find in an unassuming backpack in the arena.
When we get back to Haymitch's, Prim and Paavo resume training. Haymitch has brought in a special guest- a man now living in our district who inexplicably is excellent with knives (rumor has it he had come from District 4 and had gutted thousands and thousands of fish, but no one seems to have any idea of how he ended up here, including Haymitch- though Haymitch assures us he is trustworthy). Peeta and Paavo were able to obtain a nice-looking knife from the bakery, so Paavo was going to be focusing his efforts on mastering knifework (and I suppose Prim was going to give it a shot- she couldn't possibly be worse at knives than she was at archery). After all, if Clove could advance so far in the Games (though it didn't hurt that Cato was her district partner), than Paavo certainly could do well for himself- take out other tributes, kill game. They immediately get started.
Peeta and I are looking on when I see my mom walk slowly over towards us. I know the news even before she reaches us- Peeta and I have been summoned for a wedding-related event by the Capitol. Sure enough, she says as she approaches, "Katniss, Peeta- your prep teams will be here in an hour. I just got the phone call. You'll be staying at the Capitol overnight and returning in the morning."
Peeta and I separate and return to our homes for a last hour of peace and quiet before the imminent chaos that is the arrival of my prep team. However, I don't get to enjoy it- I lay down for a nap and am awoken what seems like a second later by Venia, Octavia, and Flavius.
Thankfully, like before the photo shoot, the prep is not quite as extensive as before the Games. I haven't suffered any major injuries since the last time they visited, and the appearance is only going to be for an evening, so once again shaving is the chosen method of hair removal on my legs, which is fine by me. After a traditional soaking in the tub of unidentified solutions, the excess hair on my eyebrows is plucked and I am once again presented to Cinna.
Cinna, as thoughtful as ever, doesn't have any major reaction of excitement when he enters- no smiling congratulations on the wedding, no happy to see me wave- he looks somber, simply saying, "So….your sister….I'll make her look unforgettable, Katniss."
His words immediately make me tear up. I can't avoid it, and lean forward to hug him, fully crying now, tears falling from my eyes to his shirt. He holds me until they finally subside.
"Thanks, Cinna," I whisper. I must not dwell on this. I shift my focus to this evening. I cough, clear my throat, wipe my eyes. "So what's in store for tonight?"
"You and Peeta are going to be participating in a number of pre-wedding activities," he replies. "The Capitol wants to film you guys doing various things to prepare for your upcoming ceremony," he explains. "You know, picking out hors d' oeuvres, deciding on a band, that kind of thing. It will be another mandatory viewing shown by the Capitol. They're also planning to reveal the top three picks for your wedding dress that everyone voted on."
I groan. Besides the fact that this is distracting me from training Prim, and that it is for an event that despite my positive relationship with Peeta right now I still have mixed feelings about, I could completely care less about this type of superficial Capitol stuff. The weddings in District 12 are nothing like Cinna is describing.
But I can think of worse things to do for the Capitol- like playing in their Games. So I nod, and let Cinna give me a final inspection, though he waits to dress me until after we've been flown into the Capitol and are comfortable inside the Remake Center. He dresses me a modest orange gown, complete with subtle shimmering red and maroon glitter fiery details. It reminds me a bit of my interview dress last year, but less dramatic, darker, more muted- like a fire burning out instead of starting. It's gorgeous.
Caesar Flickerman is seated on the stage outside of the Training Center, once again with the loveseat positioned next to him. Peeta and I enter from opposite sides of the room, embracing comfortably in the middle. Things feel more natural than they have in quite a while, thanks to the fact that we are sharing each other's beds half the time. He gives me a passionate kiss, which we aren't used to sharing, but feels nice regardless. A few moments later, Caesar is signaling for us to break it up.
We position ourselves in the loveseat, I snuggle up in Peeta's lap, and immediately the production is underway. Caesar asks how the wedding planning is going. I stay silent while Peeta feeds Caesar a load of pure BS about us picking colors and trying to decide on a theme- when in reality neither of us has done a thing to prepare for it- we were concentrating too hard on trying to save our siblings' lives in preparation for the Quell to give it any thought at all. But the audience eats it up, and Caesar seems to buy it, telling us that the Capitol is here to help, with everything, but first with the food selection. And then all of a sudden things start appearing on the stage.
Tables appear with dish after dish for us to sample for what will be featured for the guests at the Capitol-wide reception following our wedding ceremony (though I have no doubt that they will serve nearly everything under the sun, similar to the Capitol party following the Victory Tour). The first table is filled with various beverages. I don't care how strange it is- I choose the orange juice and hot chocolate. Peeta agrees, but also adds that we should probably have something flammable there for Haymitch, and the audience bellows in laughter. We eventually choose wine as well, even though I don't particularly like it, because it seems like that is what adults are supposed to drink at weddings. The food comes out next- specifically, all of the best things I remember eating at the Capitol. I make a note to only have a small taste of everything, but there's entirely too much to choose from. For the hors d' oeuvres we eventually decide on that delicious creamy pumpkin soup and roasted chicken with orange sauce. Entrees come out next, and we select- what else?- the lamb stew with dried plums over wild rice. Despite knowing immediately what we want, Caesar gestures to the rest of the dishes, insisting that we try them all.
Tiny stemmed wineglasses appear with the massive table of desserts, including rich pies and tortes, cakes, trifles, mousses, and pastries. For a second I cannot wipe the horrified expression off of my face. The Capitol clearly wants us to excuse ourselves for a moment, drink the fluid that will make us throw up the food we just consumed, and continue our sampling (or vice versa if we weren't already stuffed). I freeze, unable to eat another bite, and refusing to imbibe the fluid and participate in a practice that I absolutely abhor.
Peeta catches my expression, and clears his throat. For a second, I think that he is getting ready to play along and excuse himself, and I fill with disgust at the possibility. But when he speaks up, he catches me completely by surprise.
"Caesar, these desserts look absolutely delectable," he begins.
"Of course, young man, of course!" Caesar bellows. "Dig in!"
"As good as these look, I'm afraid that we won't be selecting any of these dishes," Peeta says.
"Well, why ever not?" Caesar asks, befuddled.
"Because," says Peeta, "I want to make the dessert myself. While there are some amazing pastries on here, what I don't see is a goat cheese and apple tart. We had something like it in the arena last year, and those are one of my specialties at the bakery."
"Well, that's a good start," Caesar says. "But you'll want more than one dessert, of course."
"Of course, Caesar. But I also plan to make and frost our wedding cake. I have special flavors and a design in mind," Peeta glances at me. "And….well, there's also a sort of sweet bread I make at the bakery that I think Katniss would like, with raisins and nuts," he looks over at me again, and my mouth is hanging wide open. "I'd like to bake that. Watch out, though," he continues jokingly, "I have a tendency to burn it."