Chapter 45:
My immediate reaction to seeing everyone from District 12 present at the ceremony is one that brings me right back into the Hunger Games- I wonder why. Though I am thrilled to see so many familiar faces, the wheels are turning in my head, trying to understand President Snow's motivation behind bringing everyone I love all the way from District 12 for the occasion. He certainly didn't have to, and the people of Panem would be none the wiser. Was he planning to simply feature them prominently on the telecast, so that everyone watching would understand his 'generosity'? And while it sounds ludicrous (and self-centered), another thought occurs to me- could President Snow be doing this- at least in part- to somehow mess with Gale's mind? I think of the words that Gale said to me last: It should have been us. Could this visit actually be some sort of punishment directed at him? I try to reverse the situation, picture him marrying someone else- and I still can't. But I quickly dismiss both theories. Somehow, I suspect it goes much deeper than that.
It doesn't take me long to reach the conclusion that I think Snow is trying to send me a message- the same way that Haymitch used to in the Games. What was going on when Peeta and I received our luxurious Capitol dinner of lamb stew, rolls, apples, and goat cheese? Oh, that's right- Haymitch was rewarding me for amping up the romance. So it makes sense to assume that President Snow was rewarding us somehow, too. But for what?
I stiffen as I realize that there can only be one possible answer to that question- and that it's painfully obvious. For not participating in the rebellion. His message now couldn't be clearer: Fight us, and you'll be severely punished- hung, executed. Hold back, and we'll reward you. In my case, with the chance to spend your wedding with all of the people that matter to you the most. In that moment, despite being on the beneficial end of Snow's unspoken ultimatum, I regret not doing more, not trying to rally our district somehow- for the tributes, for the rebels.
But I don't have time to dwell on these thoughts. Peeta and I walk past everyone on our way off the stage- I don't make eye contact with Gale, I am not prepared to deal with his reaction- and we are quickly guided to a number of outdoor locations for pictures. Though I could care less about the photographs, having Peeta close is nice- we are told to hug and kiss and hold hands for the cameras- and we have that routine down pat. But every time I look at him I feel a little flutter in my chest- he's my husband now. This is a big deal. I didn't want to think about marriage before because I knew that it was serious, that it would change things. It hasn't fully hit me yet, but still- I was right.
After pictures, the two of us are escorted into President Snow's mansion to the banquet room for our reception. Someone announces our name (which I almost don't recognize- Katniss Mellark?- whoa), and people cheer and scream hysterically as we enter- it reminds me of the audience reaction to our Hunger Games interviews- the star-crossed lovers finally emerge as husband and wife, and the Capitol citizens can't get enough. By this time, all of the reception guests are seated at large round tables, complete with fancy linens, towering centerpieces, and delicate china (though once again, I pay scant attention to the specifics- did I even pick those?). There are at least 10-15 people per table, and tables stretch as far as I can see- there must be almost a thousand people in here. We are led to a much smaller table in the front of the room, set for two, with fancy chairs and lots of roses. I scan the room for people that I know, and find Prim, my mother, Paca, and Peeta's mom and dad in the table immediately adjacent to ours- but no one else. I wonder if the Hawthornes and the rest of the District 12 members were excluded from the reception; though still huge, this is clearly a smaller area than the stage outside of the Training Center. But they could be at a table across the room; I have no way of knowing.
Our chairs are pulled out for us, inviting us to sit down, and we do. Silverware clinks against glasses and I don't know what that means until Peeta grins and murmurs in my ear that we're meant to kiss every time we hear it. I laugh out loud, thinking that he's joking, until I see hundreds of eyes keenly staring up at us. Oh, well, whatever, this is becoming old hat by now. Peeta and I kiss to thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers, as well as several more clinks of glasses, prompting us to keep going. But somehow it still feels different. Peeta is mine now- I see the glint of his wedding ring as he gently touches my jawline with his left hand.
Apparently it is now time to start eating- Avox after Avox begins bringing light appetizers out to the tables- cheese and fruit, bottles of wine, baskets of bread. When they finally reach our table, the last one served, the loaf that they set down is completely scorched on one side. I look at Peeta, and he gives me a sad smile. "I'll give you bread every day for the rest of our lives, Katniss- if you want me to," he says solemnly.
I don't say anything, just nod slowly as my eyes threaten to fill with tears. But before they do, I notice something else- several Avoxes wheeling something bulky and heavy and rectangular across the room, covered in a large silver tablecloth. When they finally position it in front of us, and ceremoniously remove the cover, I find myself staring at….a portable fireplace? I look back at Peeta in confusion.
But he's smiling knowingly. "We're not in our new place yet," he explains, "but I really wanted to do this anyway- I asked them to bring it out first. C'mon," He gets up out of his seat and gestures for me to join him.
Of course. Peeta and I begin to build the fire with some of the supplies brought out by another Avox carrying a large basket. After we get the fire going, we break off the un-singed end of the bread and begin to toast it. The Capitol plays the song that we sing in District 12 as the newly married couple crosses the threshold to their new home. While the vast majority of the audience looks at us during all of this as if we've each grown another head, I can hear loud shouting from the far end of the room- as well as right next to us- and I know then that our families and the District 12 guests are singing along. They're here. I grin. Briefly, I wonder if Gale is singing with them, and my grin fades. But then I shake my head, shake it off. Of course he wouldn't.
When the toast is done, Peeta delicately places a small piece in my mouth, his other hand back on my jaw. One thing is for certain: he will be a devoted, loving husband. Once again, I feel unworthy of the boy with the bread. But I feed him and smile at him and touch his face, and he looks like he is in heaven.
Some Avoxes wheel the fireplace away, others circle with orange juice and hot chocolate in crystal champagne glasses, and still others start to bring out the main dishes. Which is good- because I'm starving- I've had only a bite or two to eat all day. They pull off the fancy silver platter covers with a flourish as they set dishes on each table revealing gorgeous arrangements of food- bowls of creamy pumpkin soup, tiny plates of roasted chicken with orange sauce, and- of course- tureens of lamb stew and dried plums over wild rice. The tureen looks exactly like the one that Peeta and I received in the Games- back when things were forced between us and our actions were entirely for the Capitol and not ourselves. That feels like so very long ago.
The room becomes fairly quiet as the light dims and people begin eating. Capitol music comes on softly in the background, but mostly I hear the clinking of silverware on plates, low conversations with neighbors. As we dine, my thoughts begin to wander- to the cave where Peeta and I slept in the arena, the intimate yet so public setting- it feels a bit like that now. It is easy here to effectively block out the surrounding white noise, and exist in a world with just him- the two of us sitting at a small table- we could be anywhere, chit-chatting about anything. But Peeta and I just sit there, silently eating, as the realization continues to kick in. This is how it will be. Us. We're married. We're married. I finally have time to absorb the full impact of it.
The Capitol gives us a while to eat, and the conversations around us grow steadily louder. Several people get up and begin to mingle with guests at other tables. Eventually, the Avoxes take away the dinner plates and start to bring out dessert. They place a miniature goat cheese and apple tart on a small dessert plate at the setting for each guest, prompting anyone that had left their seat to return to them- the tarts smell delectable. The Avoxes then signal to Peeta, who gives a cursory nod of his head.
They wheel out our wedding cake. And after I take several moments to look at it, I break down crying in Peeta's arms.