A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter four!
To the guest reviewer: I'm glad you're happy I used your idea about the ethics of family members using the same slave for sex, I used it because I realized you were completely right about the whole thing ^-^
To other guest: I've tried doing multiple POV for this story but it doesn't work out right. Sorry :/
Jade: Please be paitent. Your reviews are starting to scare me a bit.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter Four
"Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow," I sing as I perch on Effie's second balcony railing. It's a beautiful day and I've decided to absorb the heat without having to leave the front garden. "Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes, and when again it's morning the sun will rise." Singing comforts me, it reminds me of my father. He had an amazing voice, it's one of the few things I remember of him. The soft songs he'd sing to lull me to sleep when I refused to leave the cellar. "Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the dasies guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, here is the place where I love you."
I sigh and look down below me and smile at the beautiful garden. The grass is bright green and multiple flower beds line the fence, glowing bright colours in the sunlight. District 5 isn't the most colourful of places due to polluntion ruining wildlife and nature. It's refreshing to be somewhere freshier and less stuffy than 5.
"Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, a bed of leaves, a moonbeam ray," I continue, smiling as a mockingjay lands beside me on the railing and tilts it's head to the side in silent question. "Lay down your woes and let your troubles lay, and when again it's morning they'll wash away." I hold my finger out to the bird and it hops on, listening intently as I finish the song. "Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the dasies guard you from every harm, here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, here is the place where I love you." The mockingjay looks at me curiously for a moment before ruffling it's feathers and repeating the song. I smile and listen to it until it finishes and flies away.
I hop off the railing and lean my elbows on it, looking out at the clear blue sky and squinting at the bright sun. I follow the bird as it flies through the sky for a moment before swooping down to the ground and perching on the garden fence. I smile at it, thinking of my dad, when the voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
"Hello little guy," the voice says. I watch curiously as the bird chrips happily and flies towards someone I can't see. I lean over the railing to see who it is and nearly fall right off when I do. I never heard him speak, so I couldn't have recognized the voice if I'd tried, but for some reason I'm shocked by the knowledge that he does, indeed, speak.
Peeta the Slave comes round the side of the house with the mockingjay perched on his finger, smiling broadly and slowly stroking it. Effie had returned an hour previous and set him to work on tidying up the backyard before making another swift exit for a spa date with Octavia. "You're a beautiful bird, you know that?" the slave asks. The bird chirps cheerfully in response to the stroking and praise, repaying him by singing a song to him.
My song.
When the mockingjay finishes for a second time it spreads it's wings as if taking a bow and Peeta the Slave chuckles at it. "Where did you learn such a lovely tune little songbird?" he asks. How could someone who looked so defeated just yesterday have such a radiant smile and joyful voice? As if understanding the question, the mockingjay flies off his finger and takes to the sky again, flying round in loops and gliding through the air. I watch it perform it's air show for a moment and so does Peeta the Slave, but as soon as the bird flies over to me and lands on my head I stiffen in fear. The mockingjay repeats a line of my song as if to say, 'This is her! This is the girl who sung the song!'
My eyes flick back down to the front garden in a panic and am met with a pair of deep blue eyes staring up at me. I'd have thought that he'd lose his emotion again-turn into that indifferent person I met at the train station-but he doesn't. A small smile graces his lips and I flush in embarassment. The only people who knew I could sing back home were my mother and Prim. No-one else. Why should anyone else know? It was none of their buisness. But know he knows. This person who I've barely known or seen much of for twenty four hours but leaves me more confused than using letters in math does. This boy who's made me look into my past with my father more than I ever done before, making me think more about slavery and the rights of our people. Why did he make me do all this you ask? It was that damn mask of indifference he puts on when Effie or any other woman is around. A mask, I now realize, he isn't wearing when I'm around.
"Have you ever read Romeo and Juilet?" I ask randomly, shocking myself with such a weird question to open with. "This situation reminds me of the balcony scene. Even if I do look nothing like a beautiful fair maiden and I'm not called Juliet. And I know for sure your not called Romeo." Where is this coming from? I'm babbling like an idiot because I can't bear the awkward silence that stretched between just now. Those blue eyes give me an unsettled feeling, as if he's staring into my soul, and the silence just amplified the feeling. "I don't read a lot of Shakesphere, I mean, I've seen movies but I don't understand a lot of what he's saying. Miss. Paylor says I should read between the lines but I don't know what that means because there's no words or anything between . . . the . . . lines . . ." I trail off and bite my lip in embarassment. I bet he thinks I'm crazy or on drugs or something.
The round doe-like blue eyes continue to stare up at me, the smile still there on his face, and I wonder momentarily why he's being so silent if he seems happy enough with what I'm saying. That's when I realize he's not purposely being silent, he's waiting on me to tell him he can speak. For all he knows I could be testing him, trying to see if he'll break the rules or not by speaking without my expressed permission.
"You can talk you know," I say. "I mean, I'm not going to judge you, or punish you for speaking. Heck, you could probably open your mouth and start swearing at me and calling me names right here and now and I still wouldn't punish you." He doesn't answer me and I sigh, turning around on my heel and heading back to the window by the balcony, feeling stupid. I've just place my hand on the doorknob when I hear him.
"'What light through yonder window breaks, it is the east, and Juliet is the sun.'"
"Huh?" I frown, walking back over to the balcony edge and peering back over at him.
"'What light through yonder window breaks, it is the east and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon'?" Peeta the Slave says. "Romeo and Juliet? Act II, Scene II: Capulet's Orchard."
"Oh," I reply. "Yes. So you've read Shakesphere?"
Peeta the Slave shrugs. "You pick stuff up," he says vaguely. "I haven't actually sat down and read the book. You don't really have time for that sort of thing."
I nod and bite the inside of my cheek, wondering what to say next. To busy myself I pluck a dandelion out of a plant pot on the balcony railing. My heart's beating rapidly in a panic. Am I going to get in trouble for talking to him like this? Not giving any orders, just talking? The more I misbehave, the farther I'am from going back home. Damn it, I should think these things through more.
"Your song is beautiful."
"Huh?" I ask, snapping out of my silent panic.
"Sorry, that was inappropriate," Peeta the Slave says, shaking his head. "Never mind."
"No, what did you say?" I ask. "It's fine, you can say it."
"Your song, I said it's beautiful," says Peeta the Slave.
"Oh," I reply, suprised. "Thank you." No-one has ever heard that song other than the four members of my family. My father wrote it himself-his time spent down in the cellar wasn't wasted-designed to sing Prim and I to sleep when we were unsettled and refused to leave him.
"Mockingjays don't repeat just any old person's songs," says Peeta the Slave. "They have to like your voice and even then they're very particular with their choices. I'd be honoured if I were you Katniss." He remembers my name? I never thought he'd take the time to remember to remember my name. I mean, I know I remembered his but that was within reason. What reason does he have in taking the time to remember what I'm called? I open my mouth to reply but when I look back down there's no-one there, Peeta the Slave's vanished.
I frown, wondering where he's why he has just suddenly disappeared at such a strange point in the conversation, when I a giant blob of pink catches my eye and I see Effie's car heading towards the house. Once parked, Effie hops out with a plastic bag in her hand. As soon as she's in through the front gate she notices me and waves.
"Meet me in the living room Katniss!" she calls.
"Why?" I ask.
"I've got something for you!"
I sigh and go through the balcony doors and walk downstairs. Effie's already in the living room when I arrive. I watch her quizzically as she pulls a box out of the plastic bag. I frown at the box and ask, "What is it?"
"I'm going to teach you about a vibrator!" Effie beams.
By the look of the item in her hands, I have a feeling this is going to be either very painful or very awkward.
A/N: Please R&R :D