Enraptured Prisoner

by BrieflySweet

Panem was divided into 13 kingdoms fighting among themselves for power and land. That all changed when District 2 joined forces with the Capitol and conquered Panem. Now Panem is split into two kingdoms, one ruled by the Capitol and one ruled by District 2. The war has ended and prisons are filling up. But why does King Cato order Katniss to be taken to his chambers instead? AU

8. Pets

OMG I had NO idea it was nearly a month! Time kills. I was writing the chapter this entire time and I just never realized how fast the days go by. I wanted this to be a long chapter. I am SO sorry I didn't realize...thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and followers. I have exciting news at the bottom of the page, but you should read the chapter first :) By far, the longest chapter I have ever written - past 10,000 words, wooow!

I've missed you all!

Warning: This chapter is very much rated M with jokes. Every offensive thought/spoken word of a character (some of them are a bit sexist) does not reflect my personal opinions.

---

Third Person

In the deep, dark, musty dungeons of the castle, it was not an easy affair to breathe. Every stone wall seemed to hold an ancient, foul odor that could be felt instead of smelt. Shadows terrified every corner and little things, things that were alive, darted and scurried out from corners when least expected.

The cells crowded with District 12 captives were growing uneasy. Many of them (Merchants, especially) demanded to gain their freedom. The Peacekeepers replied that if they wanted to be citizens living 2, they had to let go of their 12 heritages completely and think no thoughts of going back to 12. Until then, don't even think about seeing daylight.

Furthermore, if anyone had any information regarding those who are in hiding, they are encouraged to share it. Sharing the information, they claimed, was showing loyalty to the King of 2. In return, they would be rewarded "beyond their wildest dreams" and would be set free to live in the kingdom as District 2 citizens along with their families.

Nobody had come forward yet. For the most part, 12 was a small kingdom, and sure they had the Seam and the Merchants, whom didn't always get along, but when faced in the terms of reality, they decided they were still a kingdom and they needed to stick together as one. They knew where their loyalties lie. Of course, there were still one or two musked rats in the crowd wanting to cop a cheap deal, but the thing was, very few people actually knew the whereabouts of the royal Undersee family.

It was easy to say that they were one kingdom. But even a kingdom has its downsides. Katniss had not chosen her words carefully enough. In her deal, only her friends and family were to be fed better. For the rest of 12, food was scarce and people were hungry. Whenever scraps or tough biscuits were tossed in, there would be a fight. Survival of the fittest. Or in this case, the fastest and the hungriest, because human hunger can lure one to do inhumane things.

Prim and her mother tried to ignore the sour looks on their cellmates' faces as they were passed their food, but it wasn't always easy. Their trays held a considerably larger amount of food. One time, they even had the luxury of a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich. They'd always share, but they had their limits as well (the boys in the back could get greedy). And fighting couldn't be seen by the Peacekeepers, or else there'd be punishment for all and no food.

Mrs. Everdeen tried to keep her and Prim as far away as possible from the fights. Secretly, her shame had no limit. What kind of a mother was she if she couldn't protect her daughters from this kind of suffering? Each day seemed darker than the last. Very often would she find herself slipping away again, to the world of oblivion. It was a nice place; there was literally nothing there and she could mourn her husband all day along and nobody would disrupt her. Yet however, something deep and maternal in her chest called out to her, the need of her to take care of her one daughter, who she can be sure is alive. Tears would spring to her eyes if she thought of the older daughter - she could not protect Katniss, and now she didn't know where Katniss was or if she was even alive. If her husband was dead and Katniss was dead, and she died...then poor, sweet Prim would be alone in the world.

This prospect was the only thing keeping her from giving in to the darkness that constantly threatened to consume her into its depth.

Prim was more than happy to have her mother back. Mrs. Everdeen would rarely speak, but her arms were open and her eyes gave her the love Prim yearned for. Prim's mind had decided to think that Katniss was alive, otherwise, what could explain for the bit of improved conditions and food? Katniss was alive, she felt sure, and was trying her hardest to find them. Each day she gets a little closer. Each day is one more step till that day. For now, Prim kept neat and quiet. She shared their food with the others, sang nightmare-plagued children to sleep, talked with her mother, and tried her best to make life as easy possible. She found that glancing at the tiny narrow slit of a window every so often helped lighten her world. She could pretend that the limited rays of sunlight slipping in could lead her away to a beautiful meadow, where the air would smell sweet instead of musky.

---

Gale was on the verge of cracking. Fish paste sandwiches tasted like nothing to him. He craved meat. His hunter instincts have been at war with his rationalty. Break out. Break out and go free. Hunt. Hunt and get meat. Marry Katniss and be happy. Marry Katniss -

No. Katniss could be dead. He couldn't bear to think of her.

He didn't notice that he had a slice of burnt raisin bread this time. It tasted just like fish paste, bland and null. It crackled in his mouth and felt dry going down his throat. He felt angry when the other guys in his cell glared at him. What did they know? Do they know how much he's suffering? Do they know how much it hurts?

He didn't know that Posy often had nightmares. He didn't know that Hazelle was eating well in her life for the first time. He also didn't know that two other men were thinking about Katniss. He only knew that the people around him were suffering, and he was suffering more than they were.

---

Peeta

He was going to come off smelling like flour for the rest of his life, but that was nearly the last thing on his mind. The feast was scheduled for tomorrow. He was to be serving people at the feast.

Peeta Mellark had never met anyone that he hated in his life, but that was perhaps to change. The king of 2 was everything a king should NOT be: tyranny, selfish, greedy, and most of all, cruel. A king like that, in his mind, shouldn't be in charge of Panem. A king like that should not be king at all.

He remembered every customer that came into his old bakery in 12. Young, old, rich, poor, plump, skinny, shaven, hairy - each one had their own individuality. And Peeta loved each and every one of his customers (with few exceptions). If they hadn't any money, he'd slip them a small roll, sometimes filled with the fluffiest cream filling or sprinkled with hearty nuts, oats, and raisins. If they had not-exactly-enough money for something they'd wanted, he usually sold it to them anyway. Of course, all this happened when his mother wasn't around. Generally, no people came out of Mellark's Bakery with empty hands, stomachs, or eyes. Even Katniss had savored his bread.

Upon this array of memories, Peeta stirred whatever was in the pot with gigantic circular motions. He remembered it as if it were yesterday (was it?), and yet, the moment seemed so...distant from him, as if it happened with someone else and he was only there observing it. The unexpected spring storm, the pelting rain, his mother's anger, thunder, the crackling of the oven fire, roasting bread, and her huddled underneath the apple tree in his front yard (which bore no fruit that particularly day). Even then, sickly and pale, too skinny for eleven, hollow-eyed with every rib showing, frail and dying, he'd thought she looked beautiful. He had watched her back getting further and further from him, as his mother's stick cut deeper and deeper into him. He was glad he could be of help.

He found himself back in the present, stirring the pot as fast as he could. "Oh, dear, do be careful! We will serve that at the feast, most likely to the king!" cried Donna.

Peeta slowed down. If the king was to be at the feast, and if he'd heard gossip from the kitchen staff correctly, rulers from the other kingdoms will be there. A few. Just a few.

But few would be enough. If he kept his eyes and ears open at the feast, he could figure out what was going on. He could tell King Undersee. And maybe, just maybe, be one step closer to rescuing his people from this tyrant place. Perhaps a servant will even know what happened to Katniss.

It would take time. But Peeta had time.

Until then, a jet of steam was emerging from the kettle on the stove.

---

It was located in a tower. You had to come to the end of a hallway, and then you had to cross the steps, which are located outside the hallway so you had no roof over your head and you could see the ground so faraway below you, and on a misty day, some wisps of cloud floating. When you finally reached the other end, you breathed out a gasp of relief, and then you better have a special key to unlock the door, or else you'd have to turn back. During the nights, there were usually guards standing outside the door, guards frozen like statues, but came to life once you make a tiny movement in the dark.

The sky bled colors off the rainbow. Light seeped into the room, giving it an almost-golden afternoon glow. It was a room of richness. It was a room of spicy cypress, rich mahogany, and smokey cedarwood furniture and smells. It had a dresser and a tiny secluded bathroom of tiles. Though not quite as big as the king's chambers, it had its own lovely point of view. A fireplace stood at one end, waiting for the flames to start their dance. It radiated warmth.

A cozy, canopy bed of wood and peachy color sat neatly tucked into the corner. Its harmless appearance might fool most. It was snug, but it was big enough for two, almost three. And it was made that way for a reason. There were two wooden doors, basically the only way out. Unless the massive unbreakable window counted (which it didn't).

Katniss

The door opened. Katniss, facing away from it, took a deep breath, and held the sheet of satin closer to herself. Any second now, his hand would reach out to touch her...please, let him be gentle this time...

"Just take what you want, and leave me alone. I'm in no mood for shit."

Nothing. Warily, she turned around.

"Lavinia!"

She almost wanted to run over and hug her. "Why haven't you come in so long?"

Lavinia cleared her throat. Oh, boy, this was going to be harder than she thought. "Katniss Everdeen, His Majesty orders you to accompany him at the feast, which will be taking place tonight at six."

Katniss's head snapped up. "What?! Why?" Emotions and questions coursed through her all at once. She didn't think she was capable of them anymore.

"P-P-Prisoners m-must never q-question orders," Lavinia read from the scroll that she'd unrolled. "P-Prisoners must..."

Katniss's face fell. "If you're here to read his orders, you can go away. I don't want to hear it." I wish to see my family. I wish to know how they are.

To her surprise, Lavinia suddenly burst into tears. "Oh, Katniss!" She ran over and threw her arms around the startled, shorter girl sitting on the bed. "I missed you so much! Only I didn't dare to visit you, b-b-because I was afraid he'd - but then you - we - me - coward - I - so glad - you're here - "

Embarrassed and shocked, Katniss awkwardly patted the maid's back. She could hardly understand what the heck Lavinia was blubbering about.

"What I mean to say is," said Lavinia, drying her eyes, "I'm so glad you're here! You have no idea how glad I am! Oh so, so glad!" She was practically squealing and jumping up and down.

"Uh, I'm glad, too," Katniss replied in a very awkward voice. "You've been away so long," she added, with a bit of an attitude. Something inside her flared. How could Lavinia have left her to deal with Cato alone? Then again, it would've been humiliating if she'd heard the noises coming from behind the door from when Cato was with her.

"I know I have!" sobbed Lavinia, who hiccuped and then blew her nose on a kerchief. "I'm so sorry, Katniss. I wanted to visit you - I really did - but you moved rooms - and oh this castle is just so big - and the others were too much!"

Katniss felt sharpness seeping into her brain. She was suddenly very aware of the world around her. "What others?"

The color in Lavinia's face seemed to fade, just a little. "Uh - you know. The others."

"What others?" Katniss raised her voice. She had no more patience since she was moved to this secluded corner of the castle. Some days (nights) she didn't even get to see a single soul.

Lavinia's voice was barely audible. "The other girls."

Katniss felt something creeping over her like a shadow. It was a few moments before she spoke. "You mean other lovers?"

Lavinia, who had been very fidgety during these few moments, didn't answer. She didn't have to. Katniss could feel a strange hammering in her chest. It sounded like her heart, but it wasn't exactly her heart. She wasn't sure what it was. Her throat suddenly felt very dry, her limbs very weak. There was lead in her head instead of her brain. It expanded until it felt like it was stretching her skull. She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

"What about his - his - other girls?"

"He...they...oh, Katniss! ...He did away with t-them."

"You mean he killed them?" Katniss was shocked, although she had a feeling she shouldn't be.

Lavinia bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"And you're still loyal to him, Lavinia?!"

"He's fit to be king. He's a good man, Katniss."

"I don't see how a man who murders the innocent is fit to be king, Lavinia." Then again, perhaps the other girls weren't so innocent. A scowl fell across Katniss's face.

"He doesn't. Those people had done something to offend him of his injust past...oh I've said too much!" Lavinia said, looking deeply distressed. "I really shouldn't...I just..."

In Katniss's mind, Lavinia was a nice girl but a naive, clueless one. Still, she was perhaps the only friend she had here in being a prisoner, and sometimes people need other people to talk to. Besides, she was curious to what people could have done to offend him of his injust past (honestly, how much worse was it than her own)?

"What could they have done to have them deserve to die by his hand?"

Lavinia dried her eyes. "Bad things." She got quiet after that.

Glaring, Katniss noticed, for the first time, the two small, glittery boxes she had been carrying along with the scroll. As Lavinia rolled it up, Katniss heard herself snapping, "What do you have with you?"

"I was supposed to read all of that," Lavinia muttered. "Huh? What? Oh, this? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. Actually, it's for you. Yes. It's your...evening wear."

Katniss felt her rage returning to her at this point. "I'm really not interested Lavinia, so you can tell your fucker of a king to go fuck himself at the feast."

"I can never tell him that!" Lavinia shrieked, shocked at the language coming from the girl who she'd taken a liking to. Oh, nuts and volts, Lavinia thought miserably to herself, She's being rude, and I still like her, because I think deep down she's a good person. I don't want anything to happen her. His Majesty's kept her alive, but if he ever changes his mind, which he most likely will...and I'll be alone and friendless again.

Katniss crossed her arms and looked away. "Then tell him I'm not coming to the feast." There was no way she was going, especially since she knew Capitol people were probably going to attend as well.

"But he asked you!"

"And I said no."

"Katniss..."

"No."

"Katniss...please?"

"No." She didn't care for stupid, formal events filled with stupid, formal, horrendous people who'd taken her homeland away from her and gave her to the tyrant of 2.

"It'll be fun. You get to wear a pretty dress and have your hair done up. Oh, wouldn't you like me to do your hair?"

Katniss suppressed a most sarcastic laugh. "Only to be humiliated later on?" She'd been humilated by Cato enough already. He made her hate herself. She wasn't going to be humilated by others, either. Of course they'll want to humiliate her. They didn't care for people from 12. They didn't care shit about anyone but themselves, Capitol and 2. Even if she asked for help, nobody would step in. And she'd probably be punished.

"Katniss." Lavinia kneeled. "Nobody wants to humiliate you."

"What are you doing, Lavinia? Get up!"

"Nobody wants to humiliate you."

"Get up."

"Not until you'll come."

"Why? Why do you want me to come?" And more importantly, why did he want her to come?

Lavinia's voice snapped Katniss out of her reverie. "Because I don't want to see what happens to you if you don't."

"I could give less shit - " Then it struck Katniss. Oh. Her family. Prim. Her lip thinned. "Fine."

---

Katniss First Person Pov

I didn't recognize myself when I gazed into the mirror. The girl in the mirror looked like me but didn't feel like me. Not that her physical appearance was of much help. She was too heavily-made up tonight.

Creamy face covered in powder, liquid-gauzed eyes lined with cool, shimmery stuff and grazed with thick dark lashes. And of course, the lips. The bloated, puckered lips layered with coats of sheen stickiness. I felt like I was glued to a mask, a mask of superficiality that suffocated me until I couldn't breathe.

This wasn't the first time I put on makeup. The first and last time I did was when I was eleven. A few months after my father died, my family and I were pining for the scraps of food I could barely find in the woods. At the time, I was fairly new with using the bow. I could shoot, but it often took me a couple tries and so often it'd be hours until I got home with the small bag of food to ration between three hungry stomachs. One time I was up in a tree, hunting for game. I was a bit careless and before I knew what happened I'd lost my footing and tumbled off. Lucky the forest floor was moist and soft, or else I'd probably have broken something. However, I had landed facedown. My lips were swollen, one eye was purple, there were cuts and bruises all over my face. I couldn't let sweet little Prim see me like that. She'd already seen too much for her tender age, and her heart was too fragile to be broken again.

I snuck into my house - or shack - through my bedroom window before she got home from school, dropped my empty game bag onto the floor, and ransacked through our medicine cabinet. It took me forever, but I finally found the small container. My mother hadn't touched it for years, that was obvious. The concealer was dried, itchy, and little more than powder clinging to the bottom, but it did the trick. I was able to hide my bruises pretty well until they healed. I wasn't much of a healer, but I was determined to keep going. I wasn't ready to let go of life like my mother did.

I made a few promises to myself in the past. I promised myself to never become a mother. Wouldn't it be little more than cruelty to bring a child into a world of corruption, violence, and hatred? Why should my child suffer like I did? I can't answer that question. And that means it's better to have no child. Promise number two: I'll never trust my mother again. I don't want to get hurt again. I've been hurt enough. And the last promise, the promise I've been most determined to keep; my family is my top priority. Namely, Prim. I will do anything and everything I can to protect my sister from the world. She would not go through what I had to go through, ever. Most of the important things in my life have been taken away from me. My family and Gale are all I have left now. Nothing else mattered.

It became a duty to hunt. I didn't realize I was hunting illegally the princess herself told me so. But her father was kind. He'd allow me to hunt - upon the condition that I'd use my hunting skills to help protect the kingdom. It was a fair deal in my mind. Overtime, protecting my people became a privilege to me, just as hunting had. I'd even fought alongside General Haymitch Abernathy a few times. When he wasn't doing his duty, he was drunk most of the time, but he told me washed his sorrows in alcohol. That was understandable. I drained my sorrow in shooting my arrows.

Now, I'm afraid the trace of the once fiery-tempered, warrior-spirited archer is gone. The replacement of a docile girl just isn't the same, even if the docile girl is trying to save her people. Perhaps it's too much for one to do. Perhaps she should stop trying...

It feels like I was slapped in the face. How could I think like that? When Prim and many other people I knew were depending on me? I don't know how I can free them from being prisoners, but the first step is to keep them alive. Which is what I'm doing right now, at the expense of myself.

Me, I break down a little further everyday. I hate myself a little more. I wish there was more that I could do. Fucking 2, betraying the rest of us to the Capitol like that. It really is every kingdom for itself in this mad, mad world. Which gives me ever so much more purpose to avenge my district.

"Katniss?" Lavinia asked as I stared deep into the mirror. "Are you ready for your gown fitting?"

The gown was tighter than anything I'd ever worn. Its corset squeezed my waistline into a tiny, trim thing. The rose-printed material fluttered delicately against my bare legs, making me uncomfortable with its sheer softness. Its sleeves hung off my shoulders. What I really noticed was how the top of my breasts spilled over the low neckline.

"Does it have to be like this?" I frowned as Lavinia brushed my hair.

"Oh, yes, it all must be elegant and fancy," she replied as she worked the strands into a long, thick rich braid.

"I mean, couldn't I wear another dress? One that's a bit...warmer?"

"What's wrong with the one you have on? I think it's very pretty - cream yellow and pale green suits you."

They did, I swallowed, remembering the little summer dress that my father bought me fifteen years ago. I don't know how he managed to do it. I could only hope he hadn't gone to the extreme.

And here is 2, dressing girls like whores and holding crummy feasts to kiss up to big, bad Capitol asses. I gritted my teeth at the nerve of them.

"It's good to see that you're trying to smile," Lavinia said with a smile of her own as she proceeded to wound some sort of stringy ribbon stuff into my hair. If this was any other 2 citizen, I'd spit into their face right now.

"There..." she gave my head a good hard yank. My teeth clenched. "Oh! Almost forgot. I brought something special for you."

I was allowed a brief moment to myself as she strolled over the two boxes she'd brought in. She carried the small one over to my dresser and opened it, delicately peeling the layers of tissue paper away. I felt my breath stolen away as she carefully lifted up a large, shimmering necklace woven of deep blue gemstones. Light danced from stone to stone. The entire necklace seemed to give off some kind of mystical glow, magically enhancing its size.

I let out the breath I was holding. "Lavinia..."

Whose large, hazel eyes sparkled almost as magnificently as the gems. "His Majesty had it made specially for you."

Oh. "I wish to send it back."

"Katniss!" Lavinia glanced at me as if I was crazy. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm dead serious," I stated bluntly. I glared at the blue gemstones. Who do they think they are, swinging all their bodies on a chain, dangling in front of me, mocking me? Just like he was?

"Katniss, this was made just for you."

"I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, Katniss." Lavinia buried her head into her elbow. "Won't you wear it? Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Letmethinkaboutit. No."

"For me?"

"It's his necklace, Lavinia. I don't want anything of that bastard's." I reached out and swatted just because I could.

The necklace dropped from her hands and clattered to the floor. In a matter of seconds, the beads holding it together bursted and gem pieces flew everywhere. Some even broke into smithereens.

Lavinia dropped onto her knees, hard. Her face was buried into her hands. I heard sniffling - and then crying.

"I..." I began, but I don't know where to begin. How could this have happened? "I didn't mean to."

Lavinia didn't answer. Her sniffles got louder.

A twange of pain wounded itself tightly into my chest. The sound of Lavinia's sobs sounded remarkably that alike of Prim's, and sweet, dear little Prim hardly ever sobbed. Hearing it often made me want to shed tears, too.

I looked at the glinting pieces of jewels, lying all over the room. For some mystical reason, the sight strongly reminded me of a battlefield littered with thousands of bodies, lying in their pools of dried blood. I'm taken aback by the violent thought. Usually, I tried to avoid violence whenever I can. There's just too much of it in this world.

And Lavinia will be punished because I made her drop the necklace - the necklace that could probably feed whole districts for years - the necklace that he got just for me. Innocent, naive Lavinia, who tries so hard to a friend to me here in a place, devoid of hope and home, sweet Lavinia, who is an older version of my sister. I've seen torture. I've seen war. I've seen it all before. None of it suits the stricken young woman in front of me.

I rest a hand on Lavinia's hand - a gentle, soft hand, gentle as I can be. I shuddered upon contact. This was more affection that I'd shown in years to anyone except for Prim.

Slowly, reluctantly, Lavinia peered up at me with her teary face. I swallowed my heart from my throat down into my esophagus.

"I'll come to the feast. I'll explain about the necklace. I'll tell him you left before I dropped it."

In that moment, Lavinia's eyes, puffy and red and swollen from crying, were sparkling brighter than all the gems on the necklace combined.

---

Cato

It is perhaps best said if one declared that the feast was tradition rather than celebration.

Traditon was a big thing in 2, however. The annual feast was all the evidence one needed. Not to mention the lavishly decked dining hall. Hunting trophies were hung with thick streamers and a glittering chandelier. Confetti and rose petals were scattered throughout the hall, adding a somewhat home-y, formal touch. Silky golden tablecloth, sprinkled with sequins that reflected the light of the chandelier, draped over the long table that occupied most of the hall.

It might just have been set for a very extravagant wedding. Hundreds of chairs aligned both sides of the table, leading up to a throne of magnificence at the very end. It towered over the rest, with its ornate armests and legs resting on four lions' paws. The plush seat of velvet embellished into a deep, smooth cypress frame. The crown of the throne was garnished with exotic gemstones and minerals that twinkled like diamonds in a mine. To the right and left side were a pair of smaller, less-luxurious, throne-like chairs. If one looked carefully, the one's to the king's left looked a bit more...snakey. The one to the right wasn't adorned with jewels.

Here's where tradition came into play once again. The higher you rank, the closer you sat to the king. Naturally, one of the servants usually assumed the position at the other end of the table on a long wooden bench shared by other servants, all the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. At least considered in 2.

He could've just stuck Katniss with those dirty rats and forgotten about her, and she was almost guranteed to have a miserable time. He could've just made her sit next to General Brutus or Enobaria, the royal executioner. Both were well known for being loud and eating without utensils. Sometimes, Enobaria ate without chewing. She was a reowned warrior in battle and rather infamous in Panem for tearing apart a throat with her teeth in battle (in which Cato's father had rewarded her by sharpening them into two fangs tipped ing gold). She probably had the most tattoos out of anybody in 2 - perhaps even Panem - excluding the Capitol. Even her gold earring could prove to be terrifying once one saw the way it pierced through her ear.

It was more convenient for Katniss to sit by him, so he could keep an eye on her. He'd heard somewhat about her before the war ended, that she had great archery skills and that she was one of the reasons 12 hadn't fallen by that time. He believed it until he met her. He still believed most of it, but after learning her weaknesses, he thought her very easy to crack down.

One bit tugged at the corner of his mind, though. He wasn't sure why he wanted her to come to the feast. Don't even get him started on the necklace. He told himself that he wanted to get rid of the necklace long ago, but Clove already had every jewel imaginable.

Perhaps because her company is really much more enjoyable than those of the other guests. He'd feel alright keeping an eye on her. Besides, what better way to crush hope of rebellion and set heart in stone than to surround her with the most powerful rulers in Panem - and have every single one of them refuse to help her? Every one of them siding with him and the Capitol?

Lord. Well, at least this was only going to be temporary. After that, it was probably about time to publicly announce his engagement to Clove. Besides, the Engagement Ball that would follow suit had the tradition of being only attended by the citizens living in the bride and groom's own district. That in itself made things better. But nothing would ever be - could ever be - perfect, could it?

This was as close as they were going to get.

Cato sighed. Now it was time for the Royal Fitting into new robes - feast robes that would be discarded and replaced by new ones at this same time next year.

---

Third Person Pov

Upon entrance Katniss wanted to turn around and run right back out. Her stomach swirled, even though it was empty of food. Gazing around, she was loosing her appetite pretty quickly.

The great hall was filled with people and food, lights and fancy clothing, chatter and laughter. Musicians stationed at the end of the hall struck up quite a merry tune - quite too merry for the occasion in Katniss's mind, at least.

She knew from one glance that the freaky-looking people were Capitol. Most of the people with fancy robes, animal furs, and swooshing dresses were citizens of 2, whom made up the majority. And the people who were constantly moving about, the people who looked less relaxed, the people who were dressed in less of a finery, were people from other districts, mainly 1 and 4.

The guards stopped an old woman selling precious gems to the crowd from 1. They collected all the already-sold merchandise from the buyers. They didn't return money.

A handsome man wearing gold robes swooped around and talked to nearly every woman. Katniss's lip curled.

She decided that these people were blunderheaded idiots when she saw the food. Mountains, piled high on every inch of the table. Overflowering platters overlapping each other. Food. There were entire roast pigs, turkeys, chickens, and birds, their mouths stuffed with fowl and fruit. Fern, flowers, fruit, and even jewels floated in tureens of shimmering soup. Giant platters of salads with entire gardens of vegetation sat patiently. Long wooden sticks skewered mushrooms and fresh-looking bits of fish. Garments of onions and herbs sat atop mounds of colorful grain and golden rice. All the little fruity drinks were tipped with tiny umbrellas and the wine glasses and heavy goblets filled to the brim with good, different varieties of wine. Little glass jars were packed with small, sour candy balls sprinkled with sugar. Vases of peacock feathers and small cornucopias filled with bread and rolls served as centerpieces. Of course, rose petals were sprinkled on top of the tablecloth. Some even glistened with dewdrops.

A little drop of drool trickled out of Katniss's mouth. She was brought food by servants, but this food was extravagant food. When could she see food like this again?

Her hunter's instinct told her that this food wasn't going to last forever, that all these people around her were competition for the table. Katniss narrowed her eyes. She spotted the food first! Unlike these idiots, hovering tere and talking shit.

Get as much as you can before it's all gone.

She didn't come alone. She had to be escorted by a guard, whose arm she was forced to clutch. He walked her to the very end of the long table near the king's throne in long, demanding strides. They stopped abruptly near the throne. Deciding that she didn't have anything better to do, Katniss sat down in a random chair.

Somebody yanked her up immediately, and a large, harsh hand smacked her in the ass. Katniss let out a yelp.

"Nobody sits until His Majesty 'oes," her unwanted companion snarled into her ear.

Katniss glared at him, resisting the urge to slap a good one across her cheek (after all, he did just slap her somewhere she didn't want to be slapped).

He flashed his gleaming yellow teeth at her, brandishing the tip of the dagger hanging on his belt.

She turned away from him, lips pursed tightly. How she itched for her arrows! She imagined slicing an arrow through his neck. Scratch that, she imagined one sticking out the necks of every one in this room. It dawned on her how violent her thoughts had become - could become. It disgusted her. She was corrupt. She was anger. She was bloodshed.

She was, some may call, a bit lucky. The guard's snakey hands were slowly reaching for an opening of her bosom - and almost succeeded grabbing it - when the trumpets sounded. The crowded, buzzing great hall suddenly dived to attention. The noise died down. Scowling, the guard quickly hurried to his position by the door.

People began shuffling towards their seats, some colliding and lots of shoving. The musicians stopped playing. Every one had an estimate of where they belonged - except for a certain girl supporting a braid.

Realizing that it would be more than awkward if she were standing there alone, Katniss's eyes desparately searched for the only empty seat - which was to the right of the throne at the very end. Heart drumming in her ears, she made her way just in time. Looking around, she realized that nobody was sitting. They must all be waiting for the king.

King Cato entered through the grand double doors. If she had not seen it, Katniss would not believe the magnificence of his entrance.

His body was...practically glowing. Head held high, chest puffed out, taking strides that somehow were graceful and masculine at the same time. His crown sat comfortably on top of his head, gold upon gold. His robes were of a fine purple, deep and rich in hue, billowing and feathery like a cape. Not to mention that you could catch a fine definition of his abs everytime he moved. There was silence to whispering, but Katniss could see the awe and admiration, plain as day, each and every female's face, even the ones who linked arms to a man. She even saw wicked gleams in many pairs of eyes.

Suddenly, the hall was too hot. Way too hot. Katniss wished there was a place where she could cool her face. She wished she didn't have to wear this low-cut dress.

Her scowl latched onto the figure who'd reached the throne. He slowly settled into it, giving off a signal to the hall. They sat down.

Katniss sat down before she was the only one left standing. Her scowl was still attached to her face.

The king didn't look her way, but to his left instead, at the smaller throne implanted with the strange jewels. A thin old man sat there, a man with paper-like white hair, gleaming blue eyes, and a cold smile bracing his lips. One look at the white rose pinned to his expensive clothing and lips that were more puckered than any woman's told her that it was King Snow.

Katniss had heard many things about the ruler of the Capitol. His trademark was the white rose. Now that she saw it in person, it was hard to stop looking at it. A small and delicate shape, it had perfect petals and a pure, perfect color. Though she doubted anything about this man was pure. There was something about his white rose. It was too white, too perfect. As her father always said, perfection only hid imperfection. Not forever, either. She had never spoken to him, never even met him, but suddenly she felt a burning hatred for this man. Her hatred for Cato (did she even hate him?) paled miserably in comparsion.

---

In the dungeons, they had heard music. Most of the older knew that the feast was taking place. Pretty much everybody except the sick and hallucinating knew that a celebration was going on. A celebration with food.

Some of the deliriously hungry, their stomaches gnawing at them with pain, reached up and frantically tried to snag the food that was not there with bony, shaking hands. The ones who knew their time was near called out to their loved ones, if they had any left.

Mrs. Everdeen knew that people who at least associated with the people who killed her husband are up there. She knitted her hands tightly together. Prim, Prim, I love Prim, Prim, my darling, sweet child, she repeatedly chanted to herself.

Gale swore that once he got out, he'd kick all their high and mighty asses. He spat on the ground when a Peacekeeper was turned the other way. It made a loud SMACK.

Prim hummed as she gently rocked a troubled child to sleep, pressing a package of received ice against his forehead. Katniss was even closer to reaching them today than yesterday. And then tomorrow...

---

Cato and Snow exchanged smiles and formally shook hands. Cato's crown shifted just a little, but Snow's remained firmly in place atop his head (which also reflected the light from the chandeliers, somewhat).

"Highness."

"Likewise."

"It's an honor to finally meet you. My people speak greatly of your name."

"The pleasure is all mine. And likewise."

The hall buzzed once again with low chattering and small talk. Nobody tried to talk to the far away though. People whispered among themselves and to their neighbors. Frowning, Katniss took one of her many spoons laid on the fancy placemat in front of her. She contemplated on the seating arrangement as she turned the spoon over and over in her hand, taking in its design. Why was she seated so close to the king? Even at District 12 banquets (which didn't happen often) people's ranks determined how close they sat to royalty. Katniss knew that She'd dipped it into a nearby bowl of soup when she felt a pair of eyes upon her.

She looked up. Across the table, seated next to Snow, was a young woman with a tumbling dark ponytail and stormy steel eyes. Thin lips pursed tightly, Katniss noticed she seemed to be glaring right at her. Katniss stared back.

After awhile, the woman grew bored and latched her eyes onto Cato again. But that didn't mean every now and then she'd snuck another glance at Katniss.

Katniss felt uncomfortable with her promixity. Though she could listen to conversation this way, she'd rather not. She'd figured a while ago tonight that each of Snow's words were laced with arrogance and hidden, boastful venom. She peered at her own reflection in the bowl.

A bit of powder fell off her face and into her reflection in the steaming bowl of soup in front of her. Feeling sick, she pushed it away.

A couple drops spilled out over the side. Unfortunately, Snow, Cato, and the young woman did not fail to notice. Fortunately, none of them said anything.

Katniss felt that someone's eyes were always lingering on her over-exposed chest. She was so angry that Cato gave her an indecent dress to humiliate her like this, in front of other kings. He really was a man, she thought. She tried to bend her head as she looked down at her plate.

"Hey there, beautiful," a sultry voice whispered into her ear.

Seated next to her was the man who had been walking around talking to women. Unlike the king, he seemed very aware of all the attention he received. Though it didn't surprise Katniss in the least bit. With tousled hair the hue of shiny, brand-new copper, large, gleaming white teeth, aquatic green eyes of which encased the sea, and bronze muscles rippling underneath his rich gold robes, he was what Katniss's mother would call an Adonis.

"It's Adonis, right?" Katniss said, rather snarkily (heartwarming smiles can quickly become quite irritating when they grow too large).

The man's eyebrows flit up in surprise before his smile returned. "Actually, it's Finnick. Prince Finnick, heir to the throne of 4, grandson of the great and unfathomable Queen Mags. But close enough."

"Catchy."

She had surprised even herself with her flirtatiousness (as close as she can get anyways). But then again she'd have never thought she'd be sitting next to the king on a smaller version of his throne wearing expensive slutty clothes and have more food displayed in front of her than her entire life in 12. This world couldn't get any crazier. Still, she didn't appreciate advances from a stranger (hello, Cato) and she didn't open up easy. To make a long story short, Finnick was making her uncomfortable.

She was urging to give those cheekbones a good whack and see how far his head could turn when she felt those green eyes flit downwards to her chest. She leaned closer to the table, head bowed, taking a teensy sip of soup.

"Very hungry, are you, sugar thang?"

She gritted her teeth. "My name is Katniss."

He leaned closer to her with every word he murmured. "I believe I've already introduced myself. It is an honor, Katniss." He lightly blew onto her cheek, oh-so-seductively.

Katniss hated to admit it, but it cooled her burning cheek off. Somewhat.

She noticed that Cato was watching them out of the corner of his eye, though he returned to his conversation when she looked over. This was going to be a long night.

Luckily for Katniss, the woman on Finnick's other side striked up a conversation with him. Katniss didn't realize how hungry she was. Reaching for everything around her, she quickly made a big pile on her plate and began stuffing herself.

"This is a very extravagant feast you honor us with, King Cato."

"Quite the more extravagant with your presence, King Snow. You grace us."

"Please, call me Snow."

"Call me Cato."

"Very well then, Cato. Ah," Snow took the moment to spoon a lump of pear onto the end of his spork, "You remind me much of your father."

Katniss didn't fail to notice how Cato's shoulders tensed up, just a little. He quickly forced himself to smile again. "I could never match up to my father's bravery, my dear Snow. But I have every urge to try." (Was it just Katniss, or did she hear something of a challenge in his tone?)

"You do, do you?" (Now, if Katniss's ears weren't deceiving her, she detected mockey this time.) "You are doing a most spectacular job. I was most delighted when I learned you had taken the throne. I imagine Castor would've been proud."

"He would have," the king of 2 said in a collected, almost-forced calm tone, "I, of course, could not have accomplished what I have without the esteemed Capitol's aid. My father has established a most wonderous friendship with your people, my king."

Katniss almost dropped the piece of chicken on her fork. Cato's father arranged the deal between the Capitol and 2?

"Yes, yes, of course, we were most delighted to make your acquaintance." Then Snow and Cato laughed about something, but Katniss didn't know what.

Her attention was focused on the open doors, just like everybody else. In strolled a line of young men and women in white outfits - servers. Smiling, they were carrying huge bundles of even more food to the table.

Katniss wondered if they were forced to smile or if they had been brainwashed. Probably both.

Hmm. Their absurd white caps reminded her of the hats the Mellark family usually wore in their bakery. Speaking of the Mellarks, one of the servers looked quite scarily a lot like their youngest son, Peeta.

Leaning forward in her chair, Katniss squinted. Could it be? Was it? It was!

It was Peeta.

She had not seen him since the end of the war. Assuming that he'd been captured or dead, she'd lost all thought of him. Guilt consumed her. This boy had saved her and her family's lives before, once upon a time on a rainy day when she was eleven years and had no food, comfort, or hope. The bread he'd thrown her kept them going for another two weeks, when the mercy of spring finally bestowed upon 12.

Her pride had never allowed Katniss to thank him for it - but she knew how kind Peeta was. He took a beating just to give her bread, and she'd heard nothing but good stuff about him. Really, if anybody was flawless and kindhearted in Panem, it was Peeta.

She looked at him as he carried the platter of fresh bread over to the end where she sat.

He scanned the crowd numbly, not caring about a thing -

He saw her. Their eyes met.

They both turned away.

And looked back.

Peeta's eyes were haunting. They suddenly sparkled with the light of the chandelier. Joy and relief and desperation flooded into his blue irises all at once, and Katniss was embarrassed but oh-so-glad to have him here with her, someone from home, someone so kind.

She shrunk a little when she remembered Peeta's occupation. And she felt bad for thinking it, but the truth was the truth. And truth was that Peeta was a sweet baker - probably wouldn't even hurt a fly - and a sweet baker who wouldn't hurt a fly wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she thought Operation District 12 Rescue.

But, it was still nice to see someone from home.

Cato noticed Katniss smiling at a specific servant boy - the boy with the bread, to be exact. The thought had never occured to him before, but one time after an amazing night (though they were all amazing, to be honest, but this particular one was special for its own reasons), Katniss had turned to face him, and she was smiling. She was smiling. It was a genuine, radiant smile of a happy woman, a woman who's pleased, a woman expressing her appreciation. It was a beautiful smile. And as quick as it came, it had left, as if she wasn't supposed to smile. Well, it was understandable, but Cato had never seen her smile like that before, and he'd thought it was beautiful. He'd thought it special - it was flashed at him - just for him - and now she was aiming it at a boy with a greasy apron and flour on his pants?

"Bring me another wine," he called out to the servant - whatever his name was. He noticed the look of slight disappointment flash on Katniss's face as Bread Boy turned around.

The wine was in the cellar - it'd take him a while, at least. Swell.

"Cato?"

"Oh - yes?" Cato turned back to the glinting eyes of King Snow, who was peering at him over the rim of his glass with a look he didn't appreciate too much.

"Did you not hear a word I said, my boy?"

"My most sincere apologies."

"No worries. I will repeat them for you."

Katniss cut herself a loaf of the bread Peeta brought in. It was good, hearty bread - filled with raisins, nuts, and seeds, the same kind that'd saved her life years ago. It was good and delicious and it brought back memories. She devoured the slice and reached for another one. I bet Peeta made this himself.

"You see, this has been a most delightful year so far. Many spectacular things have happened; among them, our kingdom has been...united."

Cato jammed a piece of the bread in his mouth. It was delicious, damnit.

"I am very pleased with this turnout of events...you and I work well as team, as I did with your father."

Cato swallowed the bread. He wished he had more wine. His throat felt dry.

"The unity of Panem has brought great reaction among our people. We felt it was for the better. However, there has been a few...misunderstandings. Some of us are not quite pleased with the turnout of things. Some of us, in fact, want things to return to the way they were."

Snow paused, and Katniss could've sworn his beady, snake-like eyes inspected her. She shivered inwardly. His eyes looked so much like a snake's, it was a remarkable fit with his personality and tongue.

"As the new leaders of Panem, I feel it is our duty, you and my own kingdom, to show the others where they belong. Put them in their places. Organize a bit. Show them what a great, powerful nation Panem could be...if we all got along. Let them know who their leaders are. Let them have their respect."

Snow raised his cup into the air. "And that is why I propose a toast to the newly, annual Hunger Games Tournament."

Cato raised an eyebrow. "The Hunger Games Tournament...?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked." They clinked glasses and drank, Cato swallowing the last drops of his good wine.

"The Hunger Games Tournament will be an annual event where a male and female between the ages of 12 and 18 are selected to partcipate in a game-like tournament inside an arena. They will battle for honor, glory, and victory among themselves and other obstacles. One will come out victor, and the rest shall...not. Survival of the fittest." Snow drank. "Riches. Glory. Power. For the winner. That way, each one of our lovely districts will have a chance to prove themselves. I believe this shall create a sense of entertainment and a bond between the our new kingdoms."

In a moment of instinct, Cato met Katniss's eye. Only for a moment, but it was enough.

Rage was burning like a flame within Katniss, consuming her from head to toe that very second. Most of the people sitting nearby were listening intently to the kings' conversation. Some stared at Katniss, wondering who she was and why she got to sit so close to the king. She paid no attention to them.

Cato felt an intense feeling burning beneath his physical surface. "You want twenty four teenagers to continue the war that has plagued our country for years?" He wet his lips. Shit!

A smile flitted onto Snow's face. "It's not rather a matter of war, but a matter of game. A sport. A chance. Something to bring our once-separate kingdoms together as we cheer on our favorite tributes."

"You're saying twenty four children give up their lives."

"My boy, we all must make sacrifices to gain the greater good. And it's twenty three, one comes out victoriou sand triumphant. The rest will be at peace. The courage and spirit of those children will be treasured in our memories as heroes who have brought back something to cheer for back in our kingdoms."

"And how shall you proceed with this, my king?"

"I will have messengers travel to all the districts. They will bring flyers and make announcements. There will be a stage constructed in each district. There will be escorts. The arena will be a large outdoor stadium. It is under construction in the Capitol as we speak. It will be ready around June. The names of every citizen 12-18 will be recorded onto slips of paper, and they will be placed into large glass balls. At the Reapings, the chances will be random so everyone has a fair chance." He paused, as if to let everything sink in. "Everything will be put into place before the actual Games start. Until then, my boy, I hope I have 2's support every step along the way, as you have had the Capitol's support with your victory."

Peeta was back with the bottle of wine. When Cato put it down, Katniss snatched it and poured herself a glass. She nearly shoved the burning, spicy, dry liquid down her throat, not caring that it was inflaming her throat.

Snow and Cato toasted again, although this time Cato took a longer time with his drink.

"Of course, my king. It is the least my people and I can do to thank you for everything you and your people have done for us."

Was it just Katniss's imagination, or was the king of 2 gritting his teeth? She'd done it herself so many times so she knew what it was like to speak through it.

Snow's puffy lips stretched as his smile widened the ends of his face. "Marvelous. I knew I wouldn't regret the deal I made with your father."

Cato slipped his hand underneath the table so it wouldn't be seen twitching. He unknowingly brushed against Katniss's knee.

Her leg trembled a little. She poured more wine into her empty glass. She didn't want to eat anything else, not even more of the food the servers had just brought out. Around her, conversation twinkled along with the tinkling of utensils against plates.

Katniss spat her mouthful of wine into her kerchief napkin, then downed the rest of the glass. This was going to be a long night.

---

Katniss didn't speak when he came in. She laid on her bed, still in her feast dress, not moving. What was left of her makeup remained on her face.

She didn't flinch when his hand reached out. She let him stroke her cheek. Her dark eyes looked into his, then quickly looked away. He didn't try to provoke her. The comfortable silence let them feel the chills of the night.

Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. "Why? Why did you let him?"

"It was a more complicated matter than you think."

Thinking of all those lost loved ones in the war, her rage sparked up again. "So why?! Why did you let him go and do this again? To create another warlike destruction to kill lives?!" She was shouting by now. "You have my people's support?!"

"WELL, WHAT ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!" he roared back at her, making her flinch. She quickly straightened herself up as he quickly cooled himself down.

Deep down, she knew it was unfair. She knew it wasn't his fault. She'd been blaming him for something his father had set up all this time.

And then he uttered words that shocked her. "I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect my people. I'm sorry they're going to pay for my father's mistake."

Something about the way he said that made her heart flutter. It was so raw, so genuine that she couldn't blame him anymore. It made him seem vulnerable, and that made him seem human. Katniss couldn't help wondering if this was the real Cato, this one with emotions and feelings in regards to the other power-hungry ruler she thought him to be. Perhaps as a king, he was supposed to keep most of his emotions to himself.

That reminded her of what he said to her in bed a few nights ago: "We're not so different, you and I. We've never been graced with a second option...we cannot make our own mark without it belonging to someone else." At first, she had no clue what he was talking about, but now, she had a pretty good guess.

All her life, she's been what others wanted her to be: mother for Prim, caretaker for her mother, charity (as much as she hates to admit it) for Peeta, hunting partner for Gale. Only in the last one did she have some means of being herself. Of course, they didn't ask for it, but she knew they needed her and she accepted that and she loved her family. Yet still, nasty as it sounds, she didn't have much of a choice.

Perhaps, perhaps Cato's life had been similar with hers. Perhaps very similar. Perhaps all his life, too, he had to be something to please everyone else. Maybe they weren't really that different.

"It wasn't your fault." She placed a hand on his shoulder. Admist her thinking, he had laid down beside her on her bed.

He turned to her with a look of surprise gracing his face.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have blamed you..." This usually took away a lot of her pride doing this, but this time, she was determined to go through with it. "...you didn't want this, either."

A reign of silence. He nodded. "Thank you."

Her heart started drumming faster in her eardrum. "I didn't do anything. I should've done something."

"What could you have done?"

"Something...anything. Something to stop Snow." She would've pierced an arrow straight through his neck. Let the Capitol pull their high and mighty asses down when they see their leader with an arrow sticking out from his throat.

"There's no stopping him."

"How do you know? You haven't tried."

"I know more than a girl from 12 does," he sneered.

She glared. "What makes you so sure?"

"The fact that - " Suddenly, he was on top of her. " - we're in this position."

"Oh yeah?" She flipped their positions around so that she was on top.

Cato's face, in spite of himself, broke out into a smile. "You know, for someone in your place, you really have a lot of fire. But not enough."

Katniss was once again underneath him, and this time, he pinned her so she couldn't move. She squirmed around, then dropped down helplessly. "You know, just because I'm from the Seams of District 12 doesn't mean I'm a nobody."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not a skank, whore, slut, beggar, or thief. The usual stereotypes."

"You're not, I'm sure."

She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not. "And I'm sure you're nothing like your father."

His expression changed. "You insufferable bitch."

"Then why don't you beat me?" she asked him, fire burning in her eyes.

"I should."

"But you don't." She bit her lip. "You just want to keep me nice and pretty and soft for your fantasies."

"Keep your mouth shut on things you don't know, girl," he growled.

"I know more than you think I know."

"Listen. I've been to more places than you've ever dreamed, seen more than your little mind can take. How about you hold your tongue next time, you little girl."

Furious, she scrambled up. "I am not some little girl! For your information, Your Majesty, I have been places and I have seen real live shit," she spat venomously, particulaly the Your Majesty part.

He snorted. "So you have."

"You don't even know." She turned her head to the side, her nose was in the air. She looked anywhere but him.

"Oh, by the way, I dropped the necklace you gave me. Shame."

His expression didn't change. "I was wondering why you weren't wearing it."

"I hated the dress you made me wear, people were giving me these looks."

"Were they?"

"Yes! And it's all your fault. By the way, the Capitol people looked like freaks with their hideous fashion."

He suppressed a thin-lipped smile. "You're lucky I didn't dress you in one of those."

She snorted. She couldn't help it. "I guess, but I'm not a pet for you to play dress-up with."

He was silent for quite awhile. Such a while that Katniss began to get uncomfortable at the nothingness, and decided to sneak a glance at him. In the dim moonlight, his silohuette appeared to be a chiseled statue of a man. He appeared somewhere else, somewhere far away. His eyes, shining, were set onto something in front of his face, but there was nothing there. She could see the great contrast between his pupil and eye.

She turned away again. There was nothing for her there.

He broke the silence. "When you tossed your head like that, it reminded me of my mother," he said in a very quiet voice.

Surprised at the personal comment, she turned and set her eyes on him. "Why?"

"She used to toss her head the way you do." She could swear that he had an almost-faint, sad smile gracing his face.

"Used to?"

"She doesn't anymore. It's not important." He shifted his position, sitting cross-legged. Katniss didn't know that he'd sit cross-legged. "Your mother, she was good to you, I assume."

His comment shocked her. It wasn't a lie. It wasn't a putdown. It was personal. It was...touchy. It was unfamiliar. And Katniss did not trust the unfamiliar. "Why should you care?" she narrowed her eyes.

His voice was one of indifference. "Why not?" But it was very different from his expression.

She didn't know what to say to that. Her mind was scanning for all the benefits he could gain from knowing this. Nothing came up.

There was just something so very rather masculine radiating off of him. And it attracted. And glowed a glow only she could see.

He suddenly pulled her in to kiss her, but she swatted off his attempts. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, and then anger began to overtake his features.

"When my mother shut down, I couldn't just sit there and watch my Prim starve. I had to feed us." Her voice dropped. "They were all I had in the world."

He listened. He was quiet. The anger faded.

"And many more have less than I do. So many other girls did this, what I do with you, at home for a hunk of bread or a meager handful of grain or maybe a couple dull coins." After a moment's pause: "I'm really no better than them, am I?" It's not a question, she thought bitterly.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Fire Girl." He had a little smirk to go with his voice, if she'd just look up.

She did, a second later, surprised by what his reply. "Oh, really? What makes me different from your typical starving, wasted-away Seam slut?"

He looked at her with...possibly admiration shining in a corner of his eye?

"Because unlike them, you've got balls."

Katniss's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm a woman," she said through gritted teeth.

"You've still got balls."

"You haven't got any."

He was immediately onto her. His eyes, glinting with amusement, might have been mistaken for a dangerous flash. "What did you say?"

"I said you ain't got balls."

His hands closed around her throat. "Careful," he crooned, soft but deadly spine-chilling into her ear, "I can show you I got balls."

She stared at him. She couldn't help it; a surplus of laughter rang out from somewhere in the back of throat. She tried to cover her face.

"You had candy - sherbet balls - at the feast." Big, fat sherbet balls that melted into sugar crystals in one's mouth, with a layer of sour tang coating the outside. They were in the little glass jars. "You had sherbet balls while the rest of my people starve?"

"Sherbet balls are for the enjoyment of 2's citizens and their children. If you want some balls, Fire Girl, you can suck on mine."

He smirked as Katniss's mouth dropped open. She couldn't believe how poised and sophisticated he had seemed at the feast. Was he fooling his people all this time?

"What's that, Fire Girl? Thinking about it?"

She shot a scowl at him. "Just because I'm from District 12 doesn't mean I'm a whore."

"The majority of your kingdom is."

She balled her fists. "They had to find some means to get by. They wanted to survive." She couldn't believe she was defending those kind of people, but glancing at the towering figure over her, she thought, At least they're from my kingdom. " As I said earlier, just because I come from 12 doesn't mean I'm a certain nobody. I can't...I can't help where I'm born. And unlike so many others, I found my own way to survive."

It got quiet for a moment before, "And what was that, Fire Girl?"

She got rather red in the face before replying. "T-to w-whore my body out to you. But I'll n-never give you me. Never."

He didn't reply.

She would wonder (more often than she'd like to admit) if he came for reasons other than he could. He was a big guy with a big physique, and it would be relishing if she, always deemed small and weak, could please a man like him. She would never, ever in a million years voice this to him nor any other soul.

She discovered that she liked his big hands holding her hips, his large, warm body pinning hers down.

"I could beat you into submission."

She jerked her head up to look at him.

"I could touch you until your lips spill my name." She shivered.

He leaned down to whisper into her ear. "I could fuck you so hard that you forget who you are."

A small whimper that she'd been holding back escaped from her lips. He smiled.

"You want me to do that? You'd like that?"

Katniss, whose brain had been melting ever since he pinned her down, could only nod. She'd already lost her virginity to him, so what mattered anymore? Here was someone who could make her feel good. Here was someone who could make her feel heavenly, if only for a few minutes. She wanted to feel good, just because in most of her life she hasn't. She needed a way to let go of everything that had happened. She didn't need to remember the pressure she was under or the Hunger Games that Snow was going to force upon them. She wanted to enjoy herself...just once. She wanted a chance to be herself. And hate it or love it, admit it or deny it, Cato was currently the only person she could be herself with. (And she was pretty sure at this moment, she didn't hate him.)

Clothing had to be taken off. He tugged out her braid and her hair tumbled down her shoulders in waves and he ran his fingers through it, pleased that it was still soft. She did the same to his hair, surprised (and pleased) to find no traces of the goopy gel Gale sometimes used (when he could afford it). She stopped him when he reached to peel off her dress; instead, she crawled to the edge of the bed and stood up. She turned in a full, slow, lazy circle as her hatred dress finally fell into a heap at her feet. She stood with her legs apart, showing off the lacy turquoise lingerie that had been hidden underneath unwanted frills.

Cato felt all the blood surging to his groin. He groaned in the back of his throat as his eyes greedily took in every inch of her.

Katniss remembered the young woman whose glare penetrated her at the feast. The flirty, handsome man sitting next to her. The coldness of Snow's expression. She could still taste the hot, burning wine in her mouth."I wore it...just for you." She said, almost shyly.

He looked at her in too-good-to-be-true surprise. He was a goner. It activated the emotional center of his masculine brain. Nobody had ever done this for him before. Not one single person. He suddenly found that he appreciated her here, so much.

When Katniss looked into Cato's eyes, they were no longer the regular icy blue. Their shade had evidently darkened to a midnight-blue. Katniss wet her chapped lips, feeling the wetness gather between her legs.

Niether of them moved. They were each waiting for the other to make a move. They each wanted to be the dominant one, the stronger one.

She slowly began peeling off her bright turquoise panties, making a show not to go too quick. They slid bodily down her thighs, got stuck at her knees. She shifted. They slid all the way down.

Cato, who'd set his crown and cape to the side, tossed his own robe to the side after stripping them off. She appreciated the view of his muscular upper body, he knew. He also knew that she apprecaited his lower body more than she'd like to admit. He took off his pants.

She swallowed. Even doing this, he was so...royal. Like the way he did things seemed like the way a king would. But he was a king. Oh, whatever the heck she just thought didn't make any sense.

He slipped off his underwear. Okay, things didn't have to make sense. They were actually okay the way they were.

When she fumbled with unclasping her bra, he lost it. Jumping up, he was behind her in nearly two or three strides. She gasped as his large hand possessed her large garment of clothing, ripping her small hands away.

"I've had enough - I can't fucking wait any fucking more - " his fingers were clumsy, so instead he just snapped her bra in half. She gasped as his mouth attacked her neck - collarbone - lips - everywhere. They stumbled to the bed, and she was pushed back onto it.

The mattress was a good mattress, she could tell, because it did not complain when he pounced on her. Both of them gasped as their bodies met.

She pressed herself against him, making him moan. She needed him inside her so badly - oh so badly. But he had other ideas. He brought himself close to her opening, as if he were about to plunge in, she waited, gazing hungrily, intrigued, impatient, excited, and he brought it into contact with her opening and she moaned and he pulled away.

He did a few times before she couldn't stand his teasing anymore. She had to have her needs fulfilled right now. Half blinded with want, she tried to grab him and and push him inside her.

His hand latched itself around her wrist, and he squeezed - tight. He used this moment to surprise her by slipping a couple fingers into her hot, bursting center.

He got a cry elicited from her. Smiling, he began stroking her and accelerating the pace of his fingers, faster and faster. His mouth found hers - lips crashed against one another - tongue slipped into mouth - bit down on a lip - words weren't needed.

The warm feeling tension up between her thighs was so close to releasing itself until he pulled out his slick fingers. He thrusted her panties back onto her to control himself. He broke their kiss to taste her essence. She whimpered at her loss.

He offered her his fingers and she sucked on them, tasting herself. Her lips tasting herself around his fingers, her eyes looking innocently at him, this was all too much for him to take. His bulge swelled in size until it was pressing against Katniss. Her center made contact with it, and they both gasped.

"Please...I can't t-take it anymore..." she pleaded with him, trying to grind into him. He growled and shoved her off of him. She landed at his side with a yelp. Once more he was on top of her, and once more he was sucking and biting her neck.

"Do you see now, Fire Girl? Do you see how I'm in charge?"

She whimpered for reply. He wasn't satisfied. Kissing his way down her chest, he made his way to her breasts. Cupping one in each hand, he caressed and fondled and kneaded them, her ongoing moans music to his ears. She arched her body up to meet his - arched it slightly off the bed so that she was offering her breasts to him.

He was rewarded with euphony and her with bliss as he worshipped her breasts. If anything, it almost seemed like the gesture of lovers.

Honestly, he was going to go crazy soon. "Tell me, Fire Girl, does this feel good?" His voice came out a bit hoarse and raw and thick.

Opening her eyes, Katniss saw that the hue of his eyes were now almost black. She guessed that hers would look about the same. She nodded her approval.

He took his mouth off her. "Not good enough. I want to hear you say it."

"It feels good."

"Say it again. Louder."

"It feels good!"

He kissed his way down her torso, over her stomach. There was no room for light, feathery, butterfly kisses here tonight - just a mixture of primal urge and raw desire and lusty passion.

She spread her legs wide, as far as she could when he finally reached the place that ached the most. Her panties were soaked. At this point, it didn't matter what she had to do in order to gain what she urgently needed.

"Touch me anywhere, everywhere. Tonight, I'm yours." But tomorrow, she'd go back to being her good self again. Tonight, though, she was an enigma, a flame that could not be put out, and he was the fuel to her fire.

Cato groaned against her when he felt how wet she was. She was so frustrated - she needed what she needed and now! He blew gently at her and she trembled when his tongue flicked out to her sensitive rosebud and swirled.

He teased her until she was ready to wrap her small hands around his throat and choke him. He was on the verge of going mad himself. Finally, he gave her what they both craved. Finally they met, Katniss's heart thumping in joy.

The mattress wasn't doing well this time. Intertwined, they were one. She found that she yearned for his touch, whimpered for more, even begged.

"Harder." she whispered at one instance.

"What was that?"

"Harder."

"And who are you speaking to?"

"You, I'm speaking to you!"

"Say my name."

"Cato."

"Louder."

"Cato!"

"LOUDER!"

"CATO!"

"I want not only to hear you say my name, but to scream it. Scream. Or I'll put right out."

"CATOOOOooooooOOOOOOOOO!"

It was the most intense and satisfying one she'd had yet. And it was long. Her nails clawed into his back, her arms gripping his shoulder for support. He did the same to her. In the background, they had the fireplace crackling softly. Candlelight flickered and their shadows danced on the wall.

They collapsed on top of each other, completely boneless.

---

Clove

"He said he might come tonight!" Clove shouted, throwing down her cutting knife and the half-finished, almost-destroyed pear she'd been working on. "I. Don't. See. Him!"

Lavinia bowed on trembling knees, almost knocking over one of the apples in the basket she'd brought in. "Y-Your M-Majesty, he said h-he might - "

"THEN WHY DIDN'T HE?!"

Lavinia wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. "Well he's started visiting you more than Kat - I mean - oh no!" She clapped a hand to her mouth, but it was too late.

"He what?"

"Nothing - "

"He what?" she hissed through her bared teeth. Her two fang-teeth glinted as she stalked foward in menacing steps. "Who was that girl at the feast? The one with the braid?! YOU USELESS MORON! TELL ME WHO THE HELL IS SHE?!" She shook the servant girl until her teeth rattled. "AND WHY WAS SHE IN MY SEAT?! AND WHY DIDN'T HE DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?!"

"K-K-Katniss, Your Ladyship," squealed Lavinia.

Clove's dark eyebrows arch up. "That sounds familiar..." she hissed. Thoughts jumbled around inside her head. "Is she from 2?"

Lavinia looked down at her feet. How she wished she could just disappear! I'm too cowardly, she thought, tears prickling in her eyes. I truly am sorry, Katniss.

"IS SHE FROM 2?!"

"No." The whisper was so delicate, it could be carried away by one sweep of a breeze.

"I will only ask you this once, so hear. Me. Out. What district is she from?"

"Uvelf."

"WHAT?'

"12."

Clove was silent.

Then she screamed.

Lavinia scurried out, the vase just missing her head. It shattered into smithereens that didn't even glint.

---

Katniss's eyes popped open, adjusting to the darkness around her. She felt around for Cato. Not here. She sighed, turning to the side. What's this? A blanket? She didn't remember any blankets.

She didn't even know if she could describe the night. It was so raw and so intense. Definitely the best. For once, she didn't have to pretend. For once, she didn't have to make a deal (even though this was part of it?). What she experienced was so real and...passionate.

She'd felt like herself, even though she had been so unlike herself. When did she ever flirt? When did she ever tease?

That's right. Never.

Still, everything had felt so right. It all...clicked into place, as if she knew exactly what to do, exactly what she wanted, and exactly how to gain it. That scared her, but it was something to be glad about it. There was still some of the old Katniss inside her, the Katniss who could take care of the people around her.

She took care of Cato, didn't she? And Cato was a king! Perhaps a tyrant (not as much as she had thought), but still, she managed to pleasure a king. Knowing the glances from the women today, he was unreachable, a dream many females yearned for but could never reach. And Katniss, a girl from the Seam in 12, has something that nobody else has.

Or she'd like to think.

Her thoughts kept on flashing back to when she'd been angry at him, and he was frustrated with her and seemingly everything else in the world, and the Hunger Games loomed like a shadow of despair over their heads, and he couldn't do anything about it, and he was trying to save his people, and she blamed him...his vulnerability at the moment was incredible. She hadn't much time to ponder over it, really, but now that she was by herself in the middle of the night...it became vivid and amazing and a haze to her. So he has feelings after all. So he was human. And he was trying to protect his people. He really was. "You're saying twenty four children give up their lives."

Snow was the real tyrant.

Her cheeks burned. What was she trying to go on about here, exactly? Why couldn't her thoughts stray from him...his hardened jaw set, his lashes that surpassed some of the women's, the intense gaze of his eyes even when they're clouded with lust, and brows that furrowed or jumped or raised depending on whatever he was feeling at the moment? Where was he now? And why is she up in the middle of the night, thinking these weird thoughts?

She huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face. She needed to get up. She needed to get out. Swinging her legs over the side of her bed, she quickly remembered that she was naked. Throwing the blanket off her, she quickly slipped into a thin nightgown she conveniently kept by the foot of her bed. Braiding her messy hair, she noticed that the blanket had a rather lovely rose pattern representing the hues of sunset. Oh. So Lavinia had come by. Well, that was nice of her.

Then she remembered that no one else had the keys to her tower except for him.

Oh. Well...that was nice. He'd smelled nice, too. Musky and -

What the hell was wrong with her? She needed air. But it wasn't like that she could roam wherever she wanted to. The door to her tower was always locked. Always.

Still...who would it hurt to try? After she finds it locked, she could pace around the room, maybe watch the fireplace smolder. Or she could sit by the window and gaze at the stars. She rarely had the opportunity in 12.

She grasped the doorknob. Even though she thought she knew the outcome, something inside tugged at her. So her hand turned the knob.

It wasn't locked.

The door swung open, revealing the faint but inviting glow at the end of the long hallway.

---

To make up for the month, I decided to give you guys a LONG chapter, longer than what I usually do. So tell me what do you think? What do you think Clove is going to do about this? What do you think Katniss thinks about this? Why do you think Cato visits Katniss even though he's engaged to Clove? And oh no, oh no, Snow's tournament sounds A LOT like the Hunger Games! It basically is. They're going through a lot of crap I'm throwing at them, aren't they? (If you think that's bad, wait till next chapter lol). What am I trying to hint at, giving all these subtle little clues?

By the way, thank you, thank you for all the lovely things you complimented about my writing. It's not the fanciest nor most sophisticated, but I try to make it fit the story. In this particular story, I try to make the third person narrator a little satirical, maybe even sarcastic. I don't know if you've noticed, but I tried lol.

I know I may not deserve them, but reviews are REALLY appreciated because they let me know what you think and they're motivating and inspiring. They inspire me to update a little faster. If you like reading my story, well, I LOVE reading your reviews. A simple 'update' is cool, but it'd be sincerely nice if you'd let me know you dropped by, and told me what you think of the chapter and what the chapter made you think.

So what is it, my readers? Do you wish to continue reading?

P.S. If you have a comment about this story or would like to drop me a note, feel free to review or PM me. I don't bite (too hard anyways) lol. Oh, and just a little notice, but I think you'd like to review on the next chapter! :)

The patient reviews of last chapter: nsheldonb, catniponfire, Guest 2/20, heyomyfellowreaders101, muggle39, wolfshifter1001, rayleen14, sariko-chain 723, hookedonpeeta, guest 2/20 #2, dragonflame, sundragons9, thepinkmartini, abigail25, vampirebooklover09, firework7, kolly, monkeygirlalli, Guest 3/12, Guest 3/14, sweet-mcloin, Guest 3/21, Mercedes 3/22, you are all the most amazing people ever and I really appreciate what you do, love you all 3

Guest as of 3/21, thank you, you have no idea what that meant to me. You really helped inspire me to keep going and to get up when I was pushed down

monkeygirlalli Oh my goodness...

thepinkmartini- Thank you, what I was going for, actually. You never fail to amaze me with your kind reviews

sundragons9 You're right, Cato has no idea. And that Snow is really a snake, isn't he?

sariko-chain 723 Thank you, thank you, thank you!

And hey, what's the perfect ending to an author's note than a sneak preview at coming chapters? ;)
Let me know what you think of it...

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Sneak Preview #1

She buried her face inside her hands, but tears still escaped. "He meant everything to me."

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Sneak Preview #2

He pressed the blade further into my throat, and I could hide my horror no longer as I see the pool of growing redness seeping onto the knife.

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Sneak Preview #3

"Did he do this to you? No? Well then who did this?! TELL ME WHO DID THIS!"