Hi I'm here to answer some of your questions :) This story will be darker than Freedom of a Mockingjay and will feature a darker, more ruthless Cato with M stuff. Nevertheless he will have a background, the question is can Katniss find it in a situation like this?

Some of the minor/lesser characters may have been changed a little to fit into the story.

OMG am I surprised by the reaction to this! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and followers but most of all thanks for just taking the time to read this :)

Katniss

The passages were winding snakes, long and hollow, dimly lit. Making our way through the castle seemed to take an eternity. The war had sharpened my senses. I jumped at every shadow and shivered at every breeze, but according to the silence of the guards, me contacting hypothermia is none of their business.

But then again, why should it be? I'm just another face of another kingdom, another part of a faraway place that is no more. Why should my well being be of concern to District 2's all high and mighty?

District 2. Now whenever I hear its name, the embers of anger burn intensely within me. District 2 wasn't exactly an ally, but it was tradition that the districts stand by each other when it comes to facing the Capitol; that's why thirteen different kingdoms had survived for many years. Unfortunately, 2's recent coronation put an end to that. The man that had thrown my people in his dungeons and ordered me to be taken to his chamber. He had the coldest eyes with the coldest expression and cruelest face that I have ever seen on a human being. Something tells me I can't rely on those cold eyes to take care of my family.

"Hold your horses," barked a guard sharply as I tried to to wretch myself out of his grasp; I can't help but panic when I imagine Prim's sweet face nestled against our worn-out mother, cramped in dark, damp narrow space. I couldn't bear to see the little girl I raised lose her humanity like so many others in the final war. Nobody ever truly wins in a war.

I bite my lip to stop myself from crying as we reach two magnificent ebony doors. One of the guards opened it in a rather delicate way, while the other held onto me and pushed me in. I turn around just as the doors slam harshly, and I hear the click of a lock.

There is no point in grappling a locked door handle, so I save myself the expense of being a fool. Instead, I allow myself to wander and explore the interior of the room. It was a large room, and a rather odd one at that because the shape of it was circular, like a tower. Then again, towers are in castles, and until now, a castle was only a luxury I could never dream of even stepping foot in.

A giant canopy bed of mahogany arose like the sun out of the plush red carpet. Just like the throne, it stood on a platform overlooking the room, displaying its magnifience over all the other things-furry throw rugs, a gigantic marbleplace cackling to the left, velvet sofas and armchairs, a pair of small doors, another pair of smaller doors, and ornate-framed paintings. The paintings fascinate me. Most of them are landscapes or scenery of the sea, mountains sparkling with snow, or faraway castles tucked in forests and grottos. And they're pretty big, but the biggest of them all would be the portrait of the king. Framed in gold, it portrayed the king of District 2 in a suit of royal armor on the back of a white horse. The horse was rearing up its front legs like it was about to stand up, and the king had his sword drawn and from the look on his face, he seemed about to strike an enemy. And striking it was indeed, I begrudgingly admitted to myself. But he is still a tyranny of a king, unfit to rule.

"Remarkable, isn't he?" came a woman's voice.

I spun around as quickly as I could, trying to hide the flame burning in my cheeks. There, standing behind the closed doors (how did I not hear them open?), was a stranger and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore the same dress that maids wore, but she looked so different from them. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow with the very light of the fireplace itself. Her dark red hair was bundled on top of head into a soft bun. Her butterfly eyes sparkled, her lips curling into a smile at me.

I turn away, feeling ashamed as I peek at my dirt-rimmed nails, rough, scraped skin, and coarse tangle of hair. I've never been a big fan of outer appearances, but right now, looking at a clean maid, I realize how wrecked and dirty I really am, what this war has turned me into, and how bleak things are looking for me.

"I always take the time to appreciate this painting when I'm cleaning his room," the maid said, stepping next to me, in front of the king's portrait, and then quietly added, "It's the only portrait in his room."

"Why is that?" I blurted before I can stop myself. I can't help. War-my instincts have changed. Now I am a creature of endless curiosity, with a thirst for knowledge, with a need to know. And...and if the people were ever to rebel against the Capitol and District 2 to win back what was ours, the more we know, the better off we'll be. Even if it means we have to associate with traitors and people who side with the traitors.

The maid's eyes inspected me not with coldness but with interest. "His Majesty has very precise taste. If one's painting does not suit his style, he would never allow their work in his castle."

"Then maybe the artists should go work for another king in another castle," I said irritably, thinking I had more to worry about for Panem than artists.

To my surprise, the maid wiped a tear from her eye. "I am afraid that is not to be, for if His Majesty doesn't approve of a painting, he has the artist...put to death."

This does nothing but fuel the fury within me. "Outrageous!" I shouted. "Tyrant!"

"Shut your mouth!" The maid bellowed at me. I stared at her in disbelief. She gripped her feather duster like a weapon in one hand as she pointed the other one at me. "I'm sorry, Miss, but please do not call our king a tyrant! He is a most gracious and fair ruler."

That comment strikes me with irony before I realize that this maid may have grown up in District 2. To District 2, yes, he might be a gracious ruler, but to most of Panem he was a tyranny and a traitor, and I am no exception to that opinion.

"I thought he was recently crowned?" I sneered. I didn't have any good comebacks, but I figured I just wanted to have my say. To be right.

At this, the strange maid beamed at me. "Yes! And hasn't he done a splendid job?"

I wanted to reach out and strike her across the face, but I refrain from doing so because she's a rather naive wench and she probably doesn't know better. Growing up here, she probably doesn't know how much the other kingdoms suffered or endured only to be betrayed by her kingdom in the end.

"Why are you here?" I muttered, half to myself. I didn't really care but I wished her gone. I was the only prisoner who was taken to the king's chambers.

"Oh yes, His Majesty wanted me to help you feel at home!" She chirps simply as if we were at tea and discussing whether to have pumpernickel or sourdough bread for secondary dessert.

I almost choke over my dry, bitter laugh. "I'm sure I would feel upmost at home in a prison."

"No, no, you're not going to prison!" The maid chuckles heartily, clearing missing my point, "I was ordered to give you a bath and dress you in some clean clothes, those warstains can be so hideous and dirty, but don't worry, I've got some special bubblebath just for you, by His Majesty's generous orders, I do hope you like peach..."

And she opened and walked through the smaller pair of doors before I could ask her what bubblebath was. But she mentioned peaches in there, and if there was any inclusion of food, I haven't eaten for fifty hours. At home I endured this kind of hunger, but there were no woods here to comb for substance.

Unfortunately, a peach bubblebath, I found out, is not a meal course with morsels. It involved me unbraiding my hair (which had been braided before this month). It involved a huge marble tub that resembled a well, except much cleaner and bigger. It involved the maid pouring a bottle of some orange, peachy-smelling liquid into the water, of which then orange bubbles sprang out from. It involved me taking off my clothes and getting into the tub and letting her use oozing sponges, oily herbs, and fragant soaps on my body. I refused heartily on the last one, but then tears came to the young woman's eyes as she told me she'd be punished if she didn't complete her task. I don't care one bit for anybody in District 2, but the way this maid cries when someone is about to get hurt reminded me so much of Prim. I missed Prim so much. I would never want her to get hurt. Besides, I can relate to being pushed around by the king.

So here I am sitting in the tub, letting the warm ripples soothe my aching muscles. It dawned on me how vulnerable I was right now, and I felt the pink heat blaze on my cheeks as the maid gently scrubbed the years of grime away. No one had ever seen my naked body before except for myself and some medical nurses, including my mother. And here I am now, and here I feel the sponges leave my skin tingling and red, and how the oily herbs make my skin feel smooth again, and how clean the fragant soaps are rinsing me.

And all throughout this, the maid didn't stop talking.

"At first, the guards were whispering about your appearance," she said, squeezing out excess water from a sponge, "Nasty, mean things! I thought you were very pretty...and brave. How hard the war must've been on you, my dear, only for you to lose in the end..." She shook her head. Tsk-tsk.

I growled, but she took no notice and just continued on. "Then again, as my friends in the kitchen often say so themselves, His Majesty would never give his attention to an unworthy maiden, would he now? If he's got his eye set on you, he's got his eye set on you because he sees you're somebody special. His Majesty has only the finest tastes, does he not, Miss?"

I didn't know what to say to that (his bedroom and bathroom are fine, but I'll never admit that), so I just said, "You can call me Katniss." Then I blinked. She can? So much for never socializing with the enemy. So much for not ever giving them my name.

She beams. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Katniss. I'm Lavinia." I grit my teeth as she rolls my hair into a messy bun and kneads it on top of my head, her nails digging into my scalp.

If I stay stilent, perhaps she'll go away.

I realized the mistake I've made once I'm out of the tub and wrapped in a fluffy golden towel. I was really beginning to feel the exhaustion the toll of war had taken on me, and settling into something so soft and warm for once manipulated me into having a light mind. Lavinia led me back into the bedroom, and I only followed her because this bathroom lacked a window.

She pointed to something laid out for me on a couch. My eyes fell upon it and my heart clenched in horror. All the cuts in the corset made it look like a face, grinning at me, waiting to swallow and devour me whole.

Third Person Pov

There had never been a place that felt more dark and cold, and never was there cramped space that felt so empty.

Prim shivered. She couldn't tell whether it was from cold or hunger. The prisoners had already been given their daily supplement of a tough biscuit, which was hardly enough. Ignoring her own rumbling stomach, she gave hers to a sniffling little boy huddled with his mother in a nearby corner. The mother opened her eyes, said thank you, and then closed them again. Prim wished she could do something more than give them a smile. Never had she felt so helpless as a healer.

And Mrs. Everdeen was not looking well. It started with her shivering under their small pile of blankets. Prim felt her arm through her sleeve and discovered that her mother was cold. Ice cold. So she wrapped Mrs. Everdeen and herself under the blankets and they huddled there. After awhile, things got strange. Warm. Too warm. Prim felt her mother again, and found out that she was burning hot. She immediately gave her all of their blankets and made sure she was cocooned in them. Then Prim scooted into a corner by herself with her back turned towards the others in the cell. There were so many of them, all starving, broken, helpless. She felt bad, but she'd feel even worse watching them suffer and not being able to help them.

Prim wished that Katniss was here. Katniss, her big sister, the girl who raised her like a daughter. Katniss, the strong, motherly one, the one who'd always know what to do. Katniss, the one who sang to her and assured her everything was going to be okay. How she would do anything for one of Katniss's warm hugs right now! She wished Katniss would laugh with her. She wished Katniss would smile at her.

Silent tears rolled down Prim's face. What had they done with her sister? Wherever Katniss was right now, please let her be okay. Please. She would do anything.

They bowed to him as he strode by. Some bowed out of admiration, some out of love, some out of fear. But they all must bow because they were required to. For once he took no notice of them. His thoughts were on somebody else, and his feet, clad in alligator-hide boots, couldn't take him there fast enough. Nobody was scorned at or harassed, and nobody complained. The servants and guards went about their way, and things carried on in usual for the castle, except for the arrivement of new guards because of all the prisoners.

King Cato did not have to meet them. They were guards and trained by his general. He called upon them when he needed them, and when they weren't needed, they were ignored by him. He left them patrol the halls, punish the lessers, and have their way with captives. He himself was going to have his way with a captive.

He ignored the guards who bowed to him and pulled open the double doors for him. He stepped inside haughtily, and immediately one of the young women already inside shrieked and fell onto her knees, clutching a creamy pink corset in her hands.

"Beg pardon, Your Majesty!" she cried with her hands over her eyes. "It's not my fault she wouldn't wear it over her dead body! I didn't want to kill her! Please have mercy..."

A thin-lipped smile twitched onto King Cato's face. "You may go, Lavinia. Thank you for your effort."

Lavinia raised her head in disbelief; the next second, the corset was dropped onto the floor and she had dashed out the door. Taking off his cloak, King Cato turned to face the other woman who stood there motionlessly.

"How do you fare, my lady?" He asked in a tone that gives Katniss goosebumps. He strode forward to kiss her hand, even though she did not bow the respectful bow. Kisses on hands were generally only received by princesses and other noblewomen, but King Cato was amusing himself.

Katniss drew her hand out of his grasp and turned away, scowl on her face. She didn't see the king's face break into a malicious smirk.

"How does my kingdom take to your liking?" He asked, as if she wasn't purposefully ignoring him.

This really sprung a leak into Katniss's cauldron of fury. She whipped around, her teeth bared, eyes bright with rage. "You may think this is your kingdom," she spat, hands balled into fists, her body trembling with the heat, "But it never was, and it will never be. For you and your whole rotten lot of District 2 have betrayed us and become a Capitol lapdog, and for that you do not deserve to call yourself royalty. Cowards!"

She was satisfied with her work, but only for a second. The king's face was livid, like it was made entirely out of stone. There was not a drop of emotion on his face as his deadly icy eyes burned holes through Katniss's defiant ones. She managed to conceal it, but in this moment she was truly frightened.

A sudden smacking noise and Katniss found herself lying on the floor, her head dizzy and vision blurry. The king had slapped her so hard that his hand was ringing, as well as her cheeks were throbbing.

With one knee on the ground, he leaned over her until his eyes were piercing directly through hers. "Do. Not. Call. My. People. Cowards." He hissed through gritted teeth, his done deep and dangerous.

Katniss nodded. She lay there gasping for breath, her chest heaving up and down, her towel still wrapped tightly around her. She was surprised that she was surprised that Lavinia had fled just like that. She expected nothing better from anybody in District 2, and this was what she was going to do from now on.

"Get up."

She didn't. She wouldn't obey his orders. Not in a century. Not in a lifetime. Not in a millennia.

He tried to hide the excitement in his voice. "I guess we shall proceed by the hard way then."

Before she had time to register that thought, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up with him. The towel fell off and he couldn't help chuckling at her small shriek as her hands fled to cover her body.

"You have no reason to distrust your king, love," he whispered into her ear. He was toying with her, waiting for her to snap.

"Fuck off," Katniss said, almost tearily. She hadn't given up her fight yet. If she were to go down, she would with all the dignity and pride she could muster.

King Cato went rigid for a second before he bared his teeth at her. Then, gently, ever-so-gently, his fingertips reached out and softly ghosted her shoulders. Katniss slapped his hand away, and his smirk broadened. She realized what happened a moment too late and her hands flew back to cover herself. "What do you want from me? What do you want from my people?!" she couldn't help screaming. She hated feeling like a fool.

"I want...everything from you. As for your people, it is not any business of mine what befalls them, as they are considered traitors now that I have security over my kingdom."

"Why?!" She cried out. She didn't understand. They didn't do anything, provoke him. Sure, District 12 had fought with District 2, but which district hadn't? "Why are you doing this?"

He came up behind her and hugged her waist, his head resting on her shoulders. She gasped but made no other movement that rocking to shake him off; she was afraid to uncover herself again. (And somewhere, somewhere in her self-proclaimed "sick" mind, she enjoyed the warmth vibrating off from him...nobody had ever held her like this...No! She has to stop this nonsense.)

"Nobody makes a fool out of me," he snarled into her ear. "Especially in front of my subjects. You have a strong hand for a fragile woman..."

Katniss's heart sank all the way down to her toes. She knew she shouldn't have slapped him. She had been such a fool. If it weren't for her temper, she might be with Prim and the others right now, planning an escape or a rebellion. "You weren't angry before..." she said uncertainly.

"I've been angry. I've been hiding it up until now." He smiled, almost genuinely. "I'm a very dedicated actor."

Katniss said nothing. She'd been made a fool of again, but this time, she was the one who was responsible for it.

"But you are not really fragile, are you? I saw you when you were fighting. What a strong warrior. I believe I had asked for your name. You never answered." He growled threateningly.

"Why would my name be of concern to you? I only tell my name to the people who matter," she snapped.

His eyes flashed, but she noticed a minute too late. He picked her up and threw her onto the canopy bed, dropping on top of her. Katniss frantically wiggled and struggled to free herself to no avail. He was too strong, too brawny, too muscular. And she hated admitting it, but he was damn brainy as well.

"At this point, girl, you can either give into me and obey my orders, or we can go down the hard path again," he said, and she knew he meant what he said. She felt fear surging through her. This man was a monster, a bred-killing machine who was as merciless and as malevolent as one king can get.

She tried not to look him in the eyes again. He was handsome, devilishly so, and there was no way she would deal with the devil.

"If you're not going to choose, then I will choose for you," he warned.

She would spit again, but she had learned her lesson not to spit. She decided to go forth with a classic insult.

His cold eyes lit up with an excitement even she couldn't miss. "As you wish." She was thoroughly confused when he got off of her and began fastening his cloak again.

"You-you aren't going to-" she cursed herself for blurting out again. Damn, was she going to have to watch her mouth.

"Oh believe me, I will, love," he said as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, "Later. For now I must deal with your first punishment. As you and your little group of rebels have refused my offering of peace, they will be punished as severely as you will be." An idea suddenly came into his head. "You seem to have a special relationship with the boy whose name you screamed in my throne room and the little girl that was crying your name. I think I'll start with them."

Katniss's world unhinged. She forgot all about dignity and pride as she got up from the bed to meet his eyes. "Not them!"

He started walking. He wasn't really sure what he would do with them. He wanted to scare her. He wanted to see what she would do.

Pictures of her best friend from childhood and her lovely little sister swirled in Katniss's head and that was enough for her. "Please, no!" She leapt off the bed, off the platform and landed onto her knees. She walked in front of Cato and kneeled before him, shocking them both.

As his cold stare continued to penetrate her, Katniss felt her dignity shatter into a million pieces. "Please don't hurt them," she croaked, choking over her own words in her panic, "Please not them." She felt pathetic but she knew that he could really hurt them if he wanted to.

He would never admit it, but a part of him was touched by this. "What are you going to do about it?" He challenged her. He was still a king. He still held authority.

"Anything! Don't hurt them, I'll do anything!" she cried.

Then she gasped, but it was too late to take back what she had already said.

Sorry for falling behind! I was reading White Fang since it came with Call of the Wild in one book, and I gotta say, one of the best novels I have ever read. If you like dogs and the Call of the Wild, then White Fang is definitely something to consider reading! I get so inspired by it! Woohoo!

So originally there was going to be a lemon in this chapter but then I decided to ask for your opinion first, since it might offend some people. I thought it wouldn't offend most, but I didn't include it just in case. Please tell me in your review whether you'd be offended or not!

A shout-out to all my readers from Freedom of a Mockingjay, YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING SUPERSTARS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING BY TO READ THIS OTHER STORY OF MINE!