A/N:
Thanks to those who have reviewed so far! It's a definite motivator :)
Chapter 8:
My mouth is still open. Words can't describe how touched I feel by Peeta's gesture. I'm not sure if this is something that he wanted to do anyway, or if he came up with it on the fly simply so that we could avoid drinking that vile fluid, but either way, I am in shock at his thoughtfulness. I am having one of those moments where I think that I could never in a million years do better than marrying Peeta; that I in fact am completely unworthy of him. But a moment later somehow the thought of Gale having to watch this mandatory viewing on TV also occurs to me, and I feel sickened with guilt. However, It pulls me out of my stupor long enough to realize that I need to start paying attention.
It is a good thing I do because Caesar immediately asks for my input. "And what do you think about Peeta's dessert ideas, dear?"
I look directly at Peeta when I say this. He must know how he made me feel. "They're just like him- thoughtful and amazing," I say. I get a little choked up mid-sentence. I'm not sure the audience understands the bread reference- we only mentioned it in passing in the arena, although maybe they picked it up, who knows- but they can hear the emotion and sincerity in my voice. They go berserk with applause.
The dessert table is quickly taken away and Peeta and Caesar engage in small talk while the next round of items are prepared, then presented. Thankfully, the food portion of the evening is over and I can digest while making the next batch of decisions. Though I now regret not consuming more alcohol in the beginning because what I have to pick from now- wedding accessories- is completely mind-numbing and the wine buzz would have made it a little more fun.
Stationary for invitations (and why there are printed invitations is beyond me- it's not like Peeta or I will be handing them out, and the entirety of Panem will be watching anyway): ivory with embossed gold swirl on the left side, ivory with embossed gold swirl on the right side, ivory with embossed silver swirl on the left side- the boring choices go on and on. We have to pick our favorites of a wide selection of cake toppers. Toasting glasses. Guestbooks. Peeta, who as a person is significantly more creative than me, has fairly strong opinions but insists that I make the final selection. We quickly work out a system- he narrows it down to two or three choices that he prefers, then I choose in less than a second, with the guise that I know exactly what I want, but in reality not giving it a single iota of thought and pointing to items randomly.
After an hour, we finally start to make some headway. I am wondering if our broadcast is being edited because I can't for the life of me fathom anyone other than maybe a few people at the Capitol being interested in watching it. We pick the band. We select all of the china and silverware for the place settings at the reception. Time cannot be going any more slowly.
There are several things that we are told are being selected for us. Caesar says it in a way that clearly indicates that we should be grateful that these things are being provided and that we'll have fewer decisions to make, but I know better. That the florist has been selected and has been given an unlimited budget loosely translates to: we are doing the entire thing in a ton of President Snow's bloody and intense-smelling white roses. Obviously we will be getting married at the Capitol, which I would have to say is dead last on my list for choices of venue. And we don't have any say in a getaway car- probably because we won't be allowed to get away.
We are also told that the Capitol will be making an extensive guest list, and to submit any additional requests in writing to President Snow. This likely means that next to no one from District 12 will be invited. And even though Gale is now considered my cousin, I would bet a million dollars that, even after submitting a request, I won't see him there. Though truthfully that thought leaves me somewhat relieved. I try to picture the situation reversed, and can't.
After what seems like forever, the discussion finally seems to turn to something that I would actually like to talk about- the wedding party. Not because I care about who will be holding my bouquet or making the toast, but because I see this as an important opportunity to express to Caesar and President Snow just how integral Prim and Paavo to our wedding, so that they might gain favor in the Capitol, earn some potential sponsorships- Prim especially. At this point I am well aware that Prim is not likely to get a very high score in training, so I have to fight for her sponsorship in any way that I can- it's my job now.
As of now, Peeta and I have not been made aware of the order of events, where exactly our wedding will fall in the scope of the Quell. If the wedding is held before the Games begin, like we're hoping, then perhaps Prim and Paavo will be able to gain sponsorships simply for being more well-known. I would be willing to give them both an inordinate amount of maid-of-honor / best man responsibility if it meant that they would each get more camera time, a better chance to look good in front of the sponsors, anything that would give them a greater connection to the people watching. Prim could even play up her interview with the "always a bridesmaid, never a bride," approach- it would certainly be heart-wrenching to see the younger sister of a victor go into the Games so soon after witnessing her older sister get married- and I would guess that the approach could gain some sympathy. While sponsors aren't typically swayed to play on sympathy for a tribute's misfortunes in the arena, perhaps outside of the arena might be different.
If the wedding is to be set for after the games, it is my duty to try to make the Capitol see how Prim and Paavo are both essential for Peeta and I to be able to celebrate our special day. I need to communicate that the wedding simply won't be acceptable without them.
"So, Katniss," Caesar says to me, "have you given any thought to who your bridal party will be?"
I think about this one for a second, but I'm not close with a lot of females, so there aren't a whole lot of options. "Well," I begin slowly, "I definitely would like my mother to walk me down the aisle." In lieu of my Dad, my mom is the only person that makes sense. While she wasn't always the mother she could have been, no one else was either. "And, I don't need any bridesmaids, but I would definitely like Prim to be my maid-of-honor. I love her more than anything." I reiterate what I said that day in the interviews. Besides being true, it seemed that it was something that people at the Capitol liked about me. Maybe the same will hold true for Prim.
"Hmmmm, interesting," Caesar says, in a way that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable, as though he isn't sure how to respond, which is very unlike him. He quickly moves on. "And, Peeta," he continues, "Have you considered who you would like to be your groomsman? Your best man?"
"Sure, Caesar," Peeta replies, smiling with ease. "Well, I think that we both owe a lot of thanks to good 'ol Haymitch, so if he would be willing, I'd want him as a groomsman. The best man decision is a tough one, but I would of course pick one of my brothers. Probably Paavo, since we've gotten really close lately," he clearly means close in proximity and not close emotionally since I have barely seen them speak directly to one another, but thankfully it's a technicality that's not easily distinguished from the audience's point of view. "Though, I would certainly consider Paca to be best man as well. And, I'd also like the opportunity to ask one other individual to be a groomsman….Cinna."
Cinna. My eyes snap to Peeta, and I feel that same rush of emotion towards him all over again. Only he knows how much having Cinna there would mean to me. Since I'm so conflicted about Gale, Cinna would be the next best thing- and he is someone that could stand by me and be happy for me marrying Peeta, unlike Gale.
But I don't have time to dwell on this. Caesar opens his mouth again. "Oh, yes, Cinna," he says, still clearly a little anxious, which is unnerving. He has a tiny feed into his ear from the Capitol, and it looks as though he is listening intensely for a moment, after which he nods, almost imperceptibly.
"Katniss, Peeta, I'm sorry to disappoint you two, but I'm afraid that your requests for your wedding party are going to be impossible to accommodate," he begins sympathetically, still clearly listening to the feed. "I've just been asked to make an announcement. Your wedding date has been set. And it will be the day that the victor of the Quarter Quell is announced. So even if by chance one of them were to survive and win the Quell, they certainly won't be up to the task." His face is masked with concern.
For a moment, I am stunned. I am instantly sure that this was done purposefully by the Capitol, to rob my sister and me of the opportunity to be together on a day, that while, admittedly, staged, will still be one of the more eventful days of my life. Then, my anger at the Capitol washes over me like a tsunami, and I want more than anything to defy them again, scream injustice onscreen in front of all of Panem, but I don't. Because yet another emotion takes over- fear. I am afraid because it isn't my life at stake anymore, and when I think of Prim, and the possibility of her losing her life because of my failures, or for any reason at all, I am devastated. Cumulatively, I do the only thing that my conflicting emotions will agree upon- I burst into tears.