Previously on Participant:
I meet Haymitch and Effie's eyes and I see panic and concern in them. I was supposed to keep Peeta from saying or doing anything revolutionary.
I've failed.
oOo
Participant
By FanficAllergy
oOo
Chapter Four
oOo
After Peeta's proclamation, we're hurriedly ushered back to the train station. I'm livid, but more than that, I'm scared.
As we flee, I can hear the sounds of District Five revolting back in the square. I don't know what disturbs me more, the screams from the crowd or gunfire from the Peacekeeper Corps. When we reach the train, I storm onboard into the dining car where Lavinia's waiting.
Handing off my daughter to the Avox woman, I whirl on my husband. "What was that out there?" I demand. "Are you trying to get us all killed? Because congratulations, you've succeeded."
"What did you want me to do, Katniss?" Peeta counters. "Rani was my friend. My partner! I just can't forget about her!"
A stab of some emotion I can't identify jolts through me. "What about us, Peeta? I thought we were a team. You and me." I can hear the hurt in my tone.
"We are a team." His eyes plead with me to believe him.
"Then why are you trying to get us all killed?" I can barely speak. I want to scream. Throw something against the wall. I'm so upset my hands are shaking. I see Prim listening to us, her eyes wide with shock, but I can't focus on my sister right now.
Haymitch takes a sip from his ever-present flask, an expression of bemusement on his lips. "Well, kid, if you wanted to start a revolution, congratulations. You've succeeded." He raises his flask in salute. "If that wasn't your aim, well, too fucking bad. I don't think good old Coriolanus is gonna be quite so understanding." He lifts the flask to his lips, skewering Peeta with his eyes. "Not to mention, what you tried to do out there, with the Community Home? You can't."
Peeta stares at him in growing horror.
Haymitch just looks at him like he's an idiot. "What? You think other Victors haven't tried to spread their money around, be charitable? There's restrictions, limits, on what you're allowed to do. Your money can only be used for you and your family's health and well-being. So you can hire a housekeeper, but you can't give money to a family in need."
"Why didn't anybody tell me this?" Peeta cries.
"They did," Haymitch tells him, exasperation evident in his voice. "It was in all them papers you signed back when you became a Victor."
I remember the thick sheaf of documents, almost the same size as my hand, Prim and Peeta both had to read through and sign. I didn't understand half of the words in the thing, so I'm not surprised there are stipulations hidden within the pages. I don't think Peeta or Prim's even read through it all. I know I haven't, although it sounds like Haymitch has.
"What else is in there?" Peeta asks.
"Pretty much about anything the Capitol thinks you need to know about being a Victor," Haymitch answers in his characteristic unhelpful way. "The problem with you, boy, is you seem to think once you make it through this Victory Tour, you'll be done. That Panem will forget you and everything will go back to normal." He takes a hit from his flask. "I'm here to tell you that this here train never stops. You'll be riding it for the rest of your life. You, the girl, and sweetheart here ain't never gonna escape, and the sooner you realize it, the better we'll all be."
Peeta looks around at us, his eyes wide, but it's Prim who speaks, her voice small. "What's gonna happen to us, Haymitch?"
"Well, for you, squirt, after we finish this here Victory Tour, you'll be livin' in the Capitol, in President Snow's palace, along with the rest of his kin. Old codger likes to keep his friends close and his enemies closer, and there ain't nobody itchin' to take the reins more than his own son, Demetrius."
"Is that Lyta's father?" I ask.
Haymitch shakes his head. "No, Snow managed to spawn several offspring. I've lost count of how many. Only two are legitimate, Demetrius and Lyta's mother, Titania. But he's got a whole host of bastards just itchin' to take daddy's throne."
Prim looks at him in confusion. "I thought Snow was elected."
"Oh, he is. But some dynasties are 'elected,'" Haymitch makes little quotes around the word, "while others are hereditary. Don't know why Snow doesn't just resurrect the good old days where the eldest child inherits the whole shebang." Haymitch takes another sip. "Although that could be because Demetrius is even more of an incompetent than your typical Capitolite and his only child, Cordelia, wants nothing to do with the family business. Girl's more interested in healin' the sick than rulin' the nation."
This is more information than I've ever heard about President Snow. None of it fits with what the Capitol-approved history books say. I wonder who's Haymitch's source. I suspect Effie, although I don't honestly know.
Peeta looks at Haymitch. "Why are you telling us all this?"
"Because you need to understand the world you two," he indicates Peeta and Prim, "have bungled your way into. Sweetheart here," Haymitch jabs a finger in my direction, "has already been thrown to the wolves, thanks to you, and as incompetent as she is, at least she's got a better idea of the actual stakes. You two need to get onboard, 'cause we didn't go to all the trouble to make sure you two both came home to have you end up in a pine box 'cause you were too stupid to listen to someone smarter than you who has more of an idea of just what's what you two are up against. So you better get your act together, boy, else Katniss here will be a widow. And that's assuming Snow doesn't decide to wipe you all out."
Haymitch staggers off, leaving Peeta, Prim, and me staring after him in shock.
oOo
Peeta and I don't talk that night, and for the first time since we've been married, we don't sleep in the same bed. Instead, I spent the night curled up in Prim's room, wishing I could just go back in time and change everything, prevent Prim from taking out tesserae, never have gotten pregnant, anything and everything. I know it's my fault we're in this mess and there seems to be nothing I can do to get us out.
I'm relieved when we get to Four to find Finnick, Annie, Tristan, and Mags waiting for us. There are other Victors from Four, but those four are the ones I've had the most interaction with. None of them are the stereotypical Careers, and all four of them helped me in some way when I was in the Capitol.
Annie runs forward, wrapping me in a hug, before turning to fuss at Willow. "Oh my! She is so darling! Look, Finnick, isn't she perfect?'
Finnick comes over, a genuine smile on his face, and dutifully coos at my child. "I gotta say it. This little lady's almost as pretty as me."
"Finnick!" Annie smacks him on the chest. "Be nice! Besides, I think she's much cuter than you."
"It's the cheeks, isn't it?" he asks me sotto voce. "Girls can't resist those chubby baby cheeks. And alas, I don't have an ounce of fat on me." He runs his hands over his flat stomach to punctuate his words.
"I see your ego's as fat as ever," I comment back.
"You wound me, dear lady. I demand a forfeit. How about a hug?"
I smile and oblige. I've always liked Finnick. I didn't expect it, but he's been a good friend and has been there when I needed him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta watching us, an expression I can't decipher on his face.
I pull away.
Finnick glances over at Peeta then back to me saying, "So, I need to talk with you two lovebirds alone. I think Annie's trying to kidnap your daughter anyway, so she'll be in good hands."
I'm guessing Haymitch or Effie has talked with Finnick about our faux pas in Five, and the handsome man has been tapped to give Peeta and me some much needed advice.
He leads us out to the seashore and allows us a few moments to boggle at the immensity of the ocean. I've never seen anything so massive in my life. The lake my father took me to seems like a puddle in comparison. It also smells weird. Not bad, just weird. Peeta and I stare at the pounding surf while Finnick just watches an indulgent expression on his face.
Once we have that out of our systems, Finnick begins. "So, I heard you fucked up in District Five. Congratulations. Welcome to the club," he says cheerfully. "Don't beat yourself up too much over it, Peeta. All new Victors do something stupid their first year. Part of the reason why Haymitch is so mad is because it's his job as your mentor to keep you in line."
"Then why didn't he say that?"
"Who knows why Haymitch does anything?" Finnick replies with a shrug. "The guy's got more secrets than Snow, and that's saying something. Why, I don't think he confides in anyone, and that includes Effie."
I wonder why Effie would be an exception, I guess because she's the district escort. But I can understand Haymitch's reluctance; she's Capitol. She doesn't understand what we in the districts go through.
And she never will.
"So, anyway," Finnick continues, "allow me to give you some unsolicited advice from one Victor to another. Listen to your mentors. Haymitch may be a drunk, but he's been playing the game a long time. His job is to keep you alive. Let him do it. You've got a good partner in your wife, so you two need to work together as a team."
"I'm not good at teams," Peeta says bitterly. "Rani was on my team. Rue and Thresh were on my team. You see where it got them." I can tell this has been eating at him for a while and I wonder if my insistence that he and I are a team is making thing worse.
"Those were the Hunger Games. They knew the odds, just like you," Finnick counters. "Only one of you was supposed to walk out of that Arena alive. Don't forget that, for the first time ever, two of you did. Just because your old team isn't around anymore doesn't mean that you don't have a team. You've got Prim, Effie, Haymitch, to name a few. And if you play your cards right, you might have a bigger team than you first thought."
"What are you trying to say?" Peeta asks, his voice wary.
The handsome Victor from Four waves one hand airly. "I don't know. I just like to hear myself talk sometimes. Anyway, I got a gift for you. It's been very useful, let me say." He pulls out a thin box and hands it to Peeta.
Peeta takes it, looking it over in confusion. "What does ribbed for her pleasure mean?"
"Oh kid," Finnick says with a laugh, "It sounds like you and me are having another talk."
oOo
Seeing Finnick is the highlight of what's otherwise a dismal stop on our visit. District Four was never going to be easy, and after seeing Prim's reaction in Ten, I suspect that things will only continue to get worse.
The girl from Four, Coral, was Peeta's first kill.
Peeta is able to make it through his speech without breaking down. But that night in our quarters, Peeta loses it.
I gather him into my arms, holding him close with his head resting against my chest. I've learned, after a lot of trial and error, that it seems to be the most soothing.
But right now, it's not having much effect. "I never wanted to kill anyone, Katniss," he whispers to me brokenly. "That's not me. It's not who I am. They turned me into a killer and I can't forgive them for that. I'd have been okay with dying in there, so long as I didn't let them change me." He shudders. "But they did. I'm a horrible person. I don't know how you can stand to look at me."
I stroke his hair. "You're not a horrible person, Peeta."
"Yes, I am. It's why you don't love me. How can you love someone who's got blood on their hands?" His voice is filled with self-loathing.
"I love Prim," I try to reason.
"I still don't think she actually killed that boy," Peeta says. "I bet the Capitol made that up just to break her."
I don't know what to say. I saw the fight as it happened, and I still don't know who actually struck the killing blow. Peeta could be right, the Capitol could be right, or they both could. I just don't know.
Instead, I say, "Peeta, you did what you had to do to survive. I'm not going to blame you for that. In fact, I'm grateful you didn't die." I run my fingers through his curls. "It means I get to make it up to you, for everything that you've done for me."
"You don't owe me anything, Katniss."
"Just because you say I don't owe you doesn't make it any less true."
He looks up at me, tears in his eyes. "I don't want your gratitude, Katniss."
I sigh. I know he doesn't. And I know what he wants as well. But I just don't know if that's what I feel for him. I like him. He's a good friend. He's a good husband. He's a good father. But is what I feel for him love?
I don't know.
And until I do, I can't say the three words he desperately wants to hear.
oOo
District Three is easy, relatively, but I'm not looking forward to District Two. Not because of Cato, but because of Clove. I'm worried about both Prim and Peeta. Not only did Peeta kill Clove, but she's the tribute who did the most damage to Prim. I'm reminded yet again just how much I owe Peeta.
I owe him my sister's life.
I recognize several of the faces standing in the place of honor reserved for the tributes' families, although I don't see Clove's mother. Honestly, I'm not surprised. Clove's mother is our Head Peacekeeper. I guess the Capitol couldn't have her take time off for this momentous occasion.
In a way, I'm glad. Not just because it spares Peeta and Prim, but because it means that, if only for a few weeks, Captain Miner gets to have a bit of a reprieve from seeing her daughter's killer walking around alive. I don't know the woman all that well, but she works closely with Gale and I'd like to try to stay on her good side for as long as we can. After Five, I've seen what can happen when the Head Peacekeeper decides to work against, rather than with, their district.
Peeta's speech, as drafted by Effie, has a strong emphasis on the words honor and respect, and I see them actually having an effect on the crowd. Unlike most districts, which have looked on Peeta and Prim with hatred and resentment, District Two seems surprisingly okay with the outcome of the Games.
I don't find out why until later, when we have dinner with the Mayor and the tributes' families.
"It's because you fought with honor," Clove's father tells Peeta. "My daughter died well, and she represented her district ably, despite not being the district's chosen representative." His voice becomes hard for a moment before returning to its pleasant tone. "It is a testament to her training and her resilience that she made it to the final fight. And there, well…" He shrugs. "Strength prevailed."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Don't be." He clasps Peeta's shoulder warmly. "You brought honor to your district. To your family. All I ask is that you live a life such that you've earned your Victory."
I see the words have an effect on Peeta, and he straightens.
"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."
"Do that." He turns to me, seeing Willow. "There is no greater honor than being the father of fine, strong, children, like this one is." He wiggles his fingers at her, cooing slightly.
He looks up at the two of us. "If not for the eyes, she could be the spitting image of my Clove. She's lovely. Thank you," he murmurs, before turning away.
Peeta and I share a look. This is the oddest family encounter we've had yet. Even Rue's mother enfolding Peeta and Prim in a huge hug can't top this.
"I didn't expect that," Peeta says.
"Me either."
"Two's weird."
I nod my head emphatically. I can't agree more.
oOo
District One is our final stop before the Capitol. I don't foresee any problems there, because Peeta and Prim had nothing to do with Marvel or Glimmer's deaths, and after our experience with the other Career Districts of Four and Two, I suspect they won't bear us any lingering animosity.
I'm pleased to be proven correct and our time in One is as pleasant as I could hope for, given the situation.
Effie disappears partway through the festivities, reappearing a couple hours later looking pale and distressed. I see her talking in hushed tones with Haymitch before the gruff mentor does something completely unexpected. He slips an arm around the Capitol woman and she buries her face in his shoulder.
"What's up with them?" I ask, nudging Peeta.
My husband follows my glance. "I don't know," he whispers. "You think maybe Effie got some bad news from home?"
I look at the Capitol woman. "Maybe," I say. "I kind of knew she and Haymitch were close, but I didn't think they were that close."
"Maybe they're lovers," Peeta says, his voice teasing.
"Please. Haymitch? And Effie?" I say incredulously. "That's like saying Gale and Madge will end up together! They're like oil and water. They don't mix."
"Not like us, huh?"
"No, not like us," I say, taking his hand in mine and leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "No. You and me, we're good together."
"I love you, Katniss."
"I know."
oOo
The Capitol is as loud and as large as I remember. As our train pulls into the station, I see crowds of people gathering to cheer our arrival. Both Peeta and Prim seem to understand that they need to make a good impression, so they're standing at the window of our train, waving at the crowds.
I join them, with Willow, waving the infant's pudgy arm at the window. I feel a little silly but I know I've done the right thing when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Haymitch and Effie share an approving look. We might not be in the Arena right now, but that doesn't mean the Games are over.
The Games will never be over.
As soon as we disembark, Willow and I are swept away for a doctor's appointment. Once there, my daughter is subjected to several needles full of I don't know what. When I ask the doctor what's going on, she tells me that they're giving her vaccines. I have no idea what that means, but so long as it doesn't hurt my daughter, I'll go along with it. I can ask Effie later what it means.
Willow's not the only one who has a doctor's appointment. I'm also forced to submit to Snow's doctors' prodding and poking. I don't know what they're looking for, but from the expressions on their faces, they don't find it.
While Peeta and I have been sexually active, it's still only been a handful of times since Snow gave us his ultimatum. I wonder if they're checking to see if I'm pregnant, which I could've told them I'm not. My menses haven't resumed since giving birth. Even if we weren't using Haymitch, Effie, and Finnick's gifts, I still probably wouldn't be able to conceive.
After our appointments, we rejoin Peeta and Prim in the Tribute Center. While I'm getting ready, I check with Effie about the vaccines and she tells me that they're drugs used to prevent certain illnesses. Learning that Willow will never get sick with things like measles, whooping cough, or tuberculosis fills me with a wave of relief. Still, it's just one more difference between the Capitol and the districts, and a part of me feels nauseous knowing Willow gets this protection, but no other child in Twelve or any other district is considered important enough to deserve it.
We're not there for long, just long enough to get changed, before we're spirited away to the first of many parties held in our honor. Everyone is cooing over Willow, and I have to keep reminding myself to call her Pulcheria.
At one of the parties, Seneca Crane comes up to us with his wife and infant son. "So how are the new parents?" he asks us, smiling warmly.
The smile is disconcerting. "Um, we're good, sir."
"And your daughter? What do you call her?" His eyes twinkle up at me. "I have to admit that Pulcheria is a bit of a mouthful for such a little lady."
"We've been calling her Willow," Peeta answers.
The bearded man nods at my husband with approval. "A far more fitting name. I was afraid you'd call her Pulchie, or something equally… unusual." He motions someone over. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Paulina, and my son, Lucan."
A pretty Capitolite woman with a silver wig steps forward. In her arms is a little boy about the same age as my daughter, wearing an outfit with a silver clock superimposed over a mockingjay on the front.
"I see you're checking out Lucan's onesie," she says after we've made all of the usual pleasantries. "Mockingjays are all the rage, you know. You can't go five feet without bumping into somebody wearing a mockingjay pin, necklace, wig… We wanted to do something special to celebrate our dual Victors from District Twelve."
I blink at the woman. "Um, thank you?"
"Oh no, thank you! If you're interested, we can send home a matching one for your little Willow here in gold," she twitters. "That way, they can be a matched set, just like you two!"
"Now, now, Paulina, don't go pairing off the two children yet," Seneca says with a chuckle. "It's far too soon."
I realize in horror that they're talking about marrying my daughter to their son. And I don't really know what to say to that.
Peeta steps in. "I agree with you, Mr. Crane. Let them grow up a bit first." He quickly brings the subject back to its original topic. "Although, I have to admit, it's a little disconcerting to see so many mockingjays all over." He motions to the rest of the room, where I see that he's not wrong. Every other person seems to be sporting some form of mockingjay motif, whether it's in the fabric that they're wearing or their jewelry. One woman even has a giant mockingjay perched on top of her wig. It seems to be the look of the season.
I wonder what they'd think if they knew the mockingjay was looked on as a symbol of rebellion out in the districts.
"So, Peeta, are you looking forward to your first year of being a mentor?" Seneca asks, changing the subject.
My husband tilts his head, a disarming smile on his lips. "Would I get into trouble if I said no?"
"Not at all, Peeta. It's a lot of responsibility." Seneca clasps Peeta's shoulder. "I'm glad to see you taking it seriously."
Peeta looks at the hand with a flicker of disgust that he manages to quickly conceal before saying, "I always take matters of life and death seriously."
"Capital, my dear boy. Capital." Seneca removes his hand and beams at the two of us. "I think this Quell is going to be one to remember. I'm very excited about my part in it." He turns to me. "You've got a part in it too, Mrs. Mellark."
"What?" I blurt out.
"Why, we've taken some of your ideas that you suggested during dinner. I hope you don't mind the spoilers, but we've incorporated some of your suggestions into the Arena," he tells me. "I'm sorry it'll ruin the surprise, but I thought you'd like to know just how influential you really were, and that we really took what you said to heart."
I struggle to think back on what I suggested. It was so long ago. "Um, thank you?"
"Oh no, no, thank you! I think they'll add an interesting dynamic to this year's Games. It's not like I'm giving you an unfair advantage in the Arena, what with you being ineligible and all."
"I'm ineligible?"
"Of course! Once somebody volunteers for you, your name is removed from the Reaping bowl for eternity, barring other exceptions..." he explains enthusiastically before rambling off into the technicalities of the Reaping.
I tune him out, my heart filled with relief.
Peeta's eyes meet mine and I can tell he's relieved too. I didn't know about this exception. I wonder if more people would be willing to volunteer if they knew about it. That may be why the Capitol doesn't publicize it.
And all of a sudden, it makes everything the Career districts do make a lot more sense.
I smile at Seneca, who's just finishing up. "I'm glad I'm not getting an unfair advantage. It wouldn't be good for the Games."
"No, it wouldn't. I'm glad you understand." His eyes glitter with an emotion I can't identify. "I like you kids. I see a bright future ahead of you. Oh, I have something for you, Peeta." He pats his pocket before pulling out a silver and gold pocket watch with a mockingjay emblazoned on it. "This is for you. I admit, as a Gamemaker I'm unable to bet on the Games, but you and Prim were my favorites, and I'm just so glad you won." He holds it out to my husband. "Please, take this, from me, as a gift."
Peeta accepts it, flipping it open to look at the face.
"As you can see, it starts at midnight."
Peeta gives him a weird look. "I thought all clocks did."
"Well, this one's special. Now, I'm sorry, we've eaten up too much of your time. Go." He makes a shooing motion. "Mingle. Enjoy your party. I've got a meeting to attend in an hour anyway."
Peeta and I share a look moving toward the buffet table. As we walk, he reaches out to take Willow from me. "Is it just me, or was he trying to tell us something?" he asks, bouncing the infant.
"Um, I don't know. Maybe?"
"You know him better than I do, Katniss. This is the first time I've really talked to the guy. Is he always like this?" he presses.
"Kinda? If by 'like this' you mean confusing, then yeah. He's… really enthusiastic about the Games."
"I don't know. There's just something about him." He pauses for a second, thinking. "But he's not wrong about one thing."
"What's that?"
"We probably should mingle more."
"Where's Prim?" I ask, looking around.
Peeta shakes his head. "I don't know. I haven't seen her since we got here. Effie spirited her away in one direction while Haymitch shoved us in another."
"We should probably go look for her," I say. "Make sure she's okay."
"Sounds good," Peeta agrees.
We start weaving our way through the crowd, stopping here and there to greet our adoring public. We don't get very far before a fanfare rings out and all eyes turn to the raised dais. President Snow is making his entrance.
Out of nowhere, Effie appears. "Come, you two. We need to get you up to the front! Chins up! Smiles on! After all, this is your big big big day!" She sounds nervous. Tense. I wonder what's happened to put her in such a state.
When we reach the front, we see Prim leaning up against Haymitch, clutching at the old drunk's hand.
Snow sees us and smiles before launching into his speech. "Citizens of Panem, it is my greatest honor to have you join us here tonight, where we can celebrate the fruit of the most beloved of institutions, the Hunger Games. This year has been one for the ages. Not only did we have the unprecedented two Victors, but we've also gotten to be a part of one of the most inspiring love stories. It is with great pleasure that I introduce our Victors of the Seventy-Fourth Annual Hunger Games, Primrose Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, along with his lovely wife and daughter, Katniss and Pulcheria Mellark."
We walk up onstage to thunderous applause and I meet Snow's eyes. The man gives me a tight smile, raising his glass in salute.
What does that mean?
Am I safe? Are we safe?
Or is a nightmare about to begin?
oOo
AN:
Written: 10/8/15
Revised: 10/24/15
Revised 2: 11/7/15
Betaread by: ForFutureReference & RoseFyre
The idea that people who are volunteered for are removed from the Reaping bowl comes from SFCBruce and his story Absolution. I liked it. So I'm using it. I'm also giving credit where it is due.
Thanks for reading!