I finally did it! I finally finished this chapter! I apologize sincerely, guys. April was a hectic month for me. May wasn't very flowery either. Did it really take me three months to finish this chapter?
But I have some good news for you at the bottom!
I think this was the chapter many of you were expecting. Or maybe not. I got sidetracked a bit, but now I'm pretty much on track. Still, so many questions, so little time. This chapter will change a lot of things.
WARNING: Dark scenes, warning just in case. Remember the setting of this story is in a place where war and cruel deeds are common.
Her footsteps were soft, silent, almost nonexistent. The faint whisper of light called out to her, beckoned to her as a hand with silent curving fingers. She stumbled down the small flight of stairs outside her tower. She almost tumbled off into the dark depths below at one point. Wrapping her arms around her thin clothing, she cautiously tiptoed onto the other platform of the main castle. Safe.
Well, maybe not. She'd heard some very vicious stories about what goes on in castles at night. Servants haunt the halls. People sleepwalk. Sleepwalkers attacked people without knowing it, but with their eyes still open. Guards did terrible things - and got away with it.
Shivering, she lightly stepped into the indoor hall. It was a little warmer inside, but not by much. Oh, did she have half a mind to turn around and go back to her tower.
You're acting like a child! She thought angrily to herself. A frightened, weak child who can't take care of herself. And you're not.
With each step echoeing down the empty hallway, her heart pounded faster, louder. Every shadow at one point looked it was about to sprout eyes, white eyes to contrast its blackness, and it was about to leap out and attack her...any moment now...
The light at the end seemingly shrunk. Katniss tried to focus her mind on other things.
What in heaven was Peeta doing at the feast? Was he with the small group from 12 that survived and were now rumored to be in hiding? Did he know where they are? Was he here, then, to work for them? Was he to rescue his people? Her heart brimmed with longing for 12. Home. In ruins. Home.
And the Capitol was behind it all.
How she hated the Capitol - hated it more than she hated anything else living on this planet. Except for their dreadful ruler, King Snow - she hated him the most of all. So many were lost in war. So much corruption and death. She'd seen it before her very eyes, heard with her own ears. Done it with her own hands. Yes, she'd fought for 12 before alongside General Abernathy. Yes, she'd shot people - but for self-defense. She shot animals - she needed to survive. But that was it. She relished the bow, relished the way the arrow striked from her fingertips, swift and light and powerful. She didn't relish what came after shooting it. Death wasn't games and fun.
And now Snow was going to take twenty-four lives, the lives of young children, and screw them up. Twenty three would be dead, and the one living wouldn't have a very clean conscience to live with afterward. The Hunger Games Tournament sounded like another horrible torture to keep the districts in conflict and apart.
Maybe that was what Snow wanted all along. Maybe he wanted them to destory each other. Beg for mercy from him as the district kingdoms crumble and fall apart, and the Capitol will rise above. Suddenly there were knots in her stomach. Suddenly the air grew very cold.
Goosebumps dotted her skin. Something prickled on her neck. A drop of cold sweat.
She sneezed.
The shadows on the walls came alive. She started running.
People's faces appeared in her mind - nameless faces that she didn't know, but somehow her conscience told her that they suffered death at the mercy of her hands - indirect or not. One by one, their faces were replaced with arrows...and they all were barreling towards something she cherished the most.
Katniss was not having a dream. Turn after turn. One passage after another she ran down. The conscience of war found a victim in everybody, especially participants.
She ran until she had to stop for breath. She ran until she could not run anymore.
Perhaps this was a bad idea, sneaking out by herself in the middle of the night. Coincidences only happened in storybooks, what was her chance in finding her family and then escaping uncaptured with her district? What was she thinking? She didn't know where she was. She didn't know how to go to anywhere. If he found her, he might punish her, or worse. If someone found her, they may bring her to him. If no one found her, she may be lost for who-knows-how-long.
Stop thinking nonsense, dumbass, Katniss told herself as she began retracing her steps. Concentrate. You've come too far to back out now.
As good as the huntress was among greenery, she had no skills within a building of stone and turrets. Katniss was utterly, hopelessly lost.
She wanted to scream. She would've, but at the last second she controlled herself. She didn't want the whole castle to wake up. One particular person, especially, if he even slept at all. By himself. She scoffed.
Katniss turned right at the corner, although she wasn't sure if she had came from the right or not. This hallway looked rather unfamiliar, being made of wood, but it did have a certain feel to it...and there was a faint light at the end of it, coming from behind fancy, gilded doors.
Upon seeing those doors, she probably would've turned away if she weren't panicking. But here she was, lost and panicked and drenched with cold sweat. She yearned to quickly get to warmth.
She stopped when she was right in front of the door. She could hear faint noises inside it, although she couldn't deduct what - or who - they were. What were the chances that it wasn't an occupied room but still had a fireplace? What were the chances that somebody wasn't behind the door?
And there were so many possibilities of who it could be. She hugged the
She turned around and began walking, trying to retrace her steps. Unfortunately for Katniss, her left foot landed on the creakiest part of the hall. She jumped at the sudden noise breaking the silence. And made another, louder creak on the floor.
The door flew open. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY - "
Whirling around, Katniss found herself face to face with the maiden from the banquet.
Cato
King Cato liked his sleep.
The toil of the day can seem like it's going away when he's lying down comfortably without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He can go anywhere he wants in his dreams, do anything he'd like to do. Freedom. He found freedom in the land of dreams, in soaring flight.
Yet tonight he could not sleep. Whether it was the faint crackling of the fire mantle or the chirping of crickets, he could not sleep. The silvery moon shone down its concern, only to be ignored by his drawn curtains. Even the paintings of the mountains and landscapes and gardens around him didn't take him anywhere but his bedroom.
He sat in an armchair by the fire, his eyes glazing dreamily into the dancing flames. His mind was plagued by something, and though deep down he knew what it was, he did not wish to acknowledge it. So he pretended he didn't know what was troubling him.
But he did.
He couldn't sleep, so he sat up in bed, cursing her name.
Moonlight peeking out beneath the heavy, drawn curtains smiled faintly at him.
He cursed her.
The gold-gilt frames of his paintings seemed to emit a faint glow in the darkness.
He cursed her.
His marble fireplace smoldered with faint red coals.
He made up his mind. The Girl on Fire would be getting a visitor tonight.
Katniss First Person Pov
"Who're you?" snapped the girl, her face half shadowed by candlelight, looking as if she were a ghost.
I was at a loss for words for someone who had never believed in ghost stories before. But this somehow was much, much scarier, even though she wasn't any taller than me. Not that I'd acknowledge it at the moment. If I turn around in a surprise sprint, maybe she won't follow. I know I'm faster than most of the girls in 12, Seam and Merchant alike. I could...maybe she'd think it all a dream. Or maybe this was a dream I'm having. Some dream, more like a nightmare.
"So it's you!" she growled, thrusting her light in front of my face. I recognized her at once. She was the dark-haired woman at the feast. The one who glared daggers at me. The one who often glanced from Cato to me. She reminded me of snarling like a bulldog with its lip pulled back.
"Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
The witchlike-woman sneered, baring a mouth full of sharp, small bulldog-like teeth. "Bitch, you dare to smack talk your future queen?"
Now I was furious. I've been called a lot of different things before and they usually didn't faze me, depending on who said them. But I was lost and I was taken as a prisoner and now somebody from 2 who I didn't know had called me a bitch, and that was too much for me.
It came so quick that I didn't even realize I'd done it until I heard the smack. When I met her eyes, they were burning like stones in hell. Her teeth gritted, she raised a hand to her cheek.
"How dare you slap me," she hissed. I admit I'm rarely afraid of anyone, but if looks could kill, I'd be dead. This woman had the glare of a venomous snake. It would've been less spookier if she had screamed instead of using a soft but menacing whisper.
Something crept over my mind that minute. "Queen?" I blinked. I had never heard of a queen from 2. The last one (asI recalled) died years ago.
"Yes, queen, you raging bitch," the woman snarled, taking slow steps forward, "Cato and I have been engaged for about a year. Our wedding day will be announced soon."
I flashback to when somebody had once poured ice water on me. I relive the moment.
"How come you don't know? Oh yeah, you're nothing more than a common rat from your shit of a district." And with a swing of her arm she slapped me sharply across the cheek, hard.
The momentum of her palm with my cheek sends me reeling back. I stumbled, my legs sore from Cato.
If I had been thinking properly, I would've turned and ran from her as fast as my legs could carry me. Yet I did not take kindly to being slapped, especially from a strange, crazy woman.
Numb. I am numb with anger. "Who are you and why do you call yourself queen?" I picked myself off the floor and crossed my arms, glowering daggers at her. Another time I wish I had my arrows with me.
I didn't expect her to grab me by the collar. I didn't expect her to suddenly slam me against the wall. For a fraction of a second, for a tiny, tiny fraction, a glimmer of (not fear, never fear) uncertainty must have shone in my eyes. Then I hardened my expression, my gaze steely once again. Her expression narrowed, and she slammed me into the wall again and again.
"How - " Her breath, it was terrible. "Dare - " Her yellow teeth bared, inches from my face. "You - " When she gnashed her teeth, the noise made my head spin in circles. "Question - " She suddenly stopped slamming me, but in no way did she loosen her grip on my collar. Her eyes burned into mine. She seemed to be thinking hard.
I used to think that Cato had the iciest, coldest eyes I had ever seen but now I am not so sure. The supposed queen's eyes were a stormy shade of grey. Her eye whites were plagued by tiny flashes of red and dark shadows circled underneath her eyes. She reminded me of a Seam girl that did not sleep for days.
If she was a man, I could easily catch her while she was off-guard. But women had their own weaknesses.
She opened her wide mouth again to say something unpleasant. I spat my gob into her face.
She stopped mid-blink. She screamed, letting go of me to wipe at her face. Her scream sent chills down my spine. It sounded like somebody was bloody being murdered. It sent me so far on the edge that I spat at her once more, and in the moment she reached up with both hands to wipe it, I delivered a punch straight to her (exposed) cleavage, a blow that soldiers often practiced on the battlefield.
I'm sure her screams could've pierced straight through hell.
Holding a hand to my stinging cheek, I ran. I didn't look back.
Katniss First Person Pov
One hall after another. They all looked the same. All looked the same. All looked the same. But I had to keep going. I had to get away from that mad woman.
Mad woman or not, what have I done? Even if she was the royal madwoman, she held an important place. She sat practically next to the king at the feast, only second to me. What kind of power did she hold? Was she powerful enough that she could order people to hurt Prim? What was her reason for hating me? Because I sat closer to Cato than she did?
But that mustn't be it. She's not the queen. There is no queen. There hasn't been a queen in 2 for nearly seventeen years. Queen Mirabelle was the last of them. So the bitchy woman could not be a queen. She was lying to unhinge me. That was it. I didn't give two shits if she was queen - I didn't give shits if her king was doing things behind her back, they were all demented and heartless here in 2. But if the demented woman was somehow telling the truth, then I've practically screwed Mom and Prim. No! I fiercely tell myself. That woman wouldn't even know they were related to me, would she? She wouldn't go babbling to Cato - or vice versa.
The night overturned my tired mind with crazed thoughts.
I hate them, I lamented to myself as I ran for my life. I hate them all. I hate District 2, land of barbarity, land of traitors. And who the fuck decided that the fucking halls all needed to look the fucking same?
I knew trouble was approaching when I heard running feet behind me, slapping the cold stone floors like my own fleeing feet. Making an effort to run quieter, I silence my breathing and only allowed myself to breathe through my nose. Warrior tactics and hunting instinct may save one's life even indoors.
It was the quiet, shadowy corner that threw me off. It tricked me with its elusive darkness, its crafty shadows hiding a guard. This one was silent and sneaky, and when I glanced back to see if anyone was behind me and didn't look where I was going, I ran into him - straight into the arms of trouble.
He grabbed me tightly. "Gotcha!" He declared, triumph shining in his eyes. I screamed and kicked at him all the while mentally cursing myself. (The other guards will know where I am now, but why did it matter - I was already caught.)
A giant, gloved hand wrapped around my mouth and all I can think is how one of my primary breathing functions is being blocked off by something that could've recently contacted blood before - another's blood. This inspires me to bite down as hard as I can. A moment later my cheek is stinging from being slapped twice tonight.
"That'll teach ya to mess with me, bitch," snarled the guard, his foul breath invading my ear. I struggled and lashed and kicked and squirmed, trying to loose his grip on me. Instead, he pulled me so that I was face to face with him.
I was looking into the pair of brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. (Cato's eyes were also blue, but they were an icy blue.) This man's was electric-blue and bright, way too eerily bright. He smiled slowly, a predatory-like grin emerging from yellow teeth.
"You must be that girl from 12 everyone was a'blubberin about. They said you was so good-looking you caught the attention of the king himself."
One hand held both of my wrists together, so that I couldn't punch him. He tilted my head so that my neck was exposed to him. He leaned closer and then his tongue flicked out, lapping at one of the many noticeable hickeys you-know-who had left behind. My heart started hammering in my chest. Bile rose up in my throat. Not this again...not again...
"I didn't believe 'em at first. But right they were, you are mighty pretty..." His teeth clamped down on a sensitive part of my skin, drawing a gasp from me. "For a girl from 12." He smiled.
As I was about to go into hysterics, a series of footsteps and voices suddenly approached us. Light from lanterns flooded over us, and the relief I felt when the guard drew his mouth from my neck was indescribable.
"So this littl' bitch was sneaking around the night," snarled one with a large, droopy mustache that suddenly reminded me of one of Lady's gifts she'd leave behind whenever she pleased (Lady was Prim's goat that we could not take with us).
"Daring to talk smack to our queen, serves her right," spat another guard with fiery hair. He reached for my arm, but the big guard holding me pulled away.
"I caught 'er, so I take 'er to 'is Majesty," he barked at the other two. (I tried to bite him, kick him, anything, but his grip was starting to affect my blood flow.)
The other two hogs looked at each other, then shrugged and carried on. One of them tossed him a lantern, then strolled away in the most casual of walks.
He and I watched them disappear down the hall. I felt his bright eyes staring down at me, like a cat peering at prey through darkness.
"Well now, it's just you and me," he said in a whisper, flashing his yellow teeth in a crooked smile. It was then I realized that the light in the hallway had truly gone out.
He dragged me back to my tower. Squirming and kicking and struggling to get out of his grip, thrashing about and leaving little bite marks all over his giant calloused hand. They smothered my lips the entire time.
I was fuming. How come he could find my tower while I couldn't? If he were in Cato's army, I bet he was treated like a common dog. Not that I cared.
I thought I was going to fall straight to my death when we fumbled over the open stairway. The night sky was full of stars and never did I imagine they could look so close. But they were still so far away, too far for me to reach.
The pitch black beneath me seemed much closer, and the wild rushing of the moat didn't help things much either. I stopped struggling so much. One false move and we'll both tumble down, down, down to a pitch-black midnight death. And this time it won't be just a nightmare. I wondered if perhaps it would be better to fall and drown than to have to endure Cato and his men.
I seriously weighed my options until I realized how selfish I'm being. If I jump to my death, what would befall Mother and Prim? And Gale and Peeta and the rest of 12? Peeta may possibly know the whereabouts of 12's current hideout, but most of 12 is in the 2 dungeons and only I am not. However, I spend my days also as a prisoner - just a more personal one. Still, the terrifying prospect of committing suicide on the spot and leaving my loved ones alone in the world forced me to take every dangerous step calmly and slowly, just as my guard was instructing me. He's grinning at me, pleased that I am obeying. Not knowing why, but pleased. I want to wipe that grin smoothly off his face.
I'll shove him, I thought nastily. I'll shove him down when we reach the other side.
But he got there first and he dragged me inside my tower with him. "I think we'll close the door," he said, his bright eyes gleaming, "No one will find you here." Fuck you, I thought as he turned his back to me to fix the door. In a flash, I jumped on him! I clawed whatever of his face in the proximity of my hands and scratched his neck and back as harshly as I can with my overgrown nails. My feet tried to kick at any part of him and my hands did whatever damage they could.
He screamed ("BITCH!"), and wildly thrashed about the room, trying to shake me off like a dog. I clung to him as tight as I could and blindly hit and punched him with my fists as hard as physically possible. This fight renewed some of my strength in the old days, and I felt almost like a warrior again, like I could take him on in a bare fistfight - until he grabbed me by the ankles and threw me over his shoulders.
I landed in a heap on the ground, reminded once again that I am a small and thin woman and I have been manipulated by the king of 2. Damn my weaknesses. All this time I am screaming, screaming as he slapped my cheeks purple and shoved me hard onto my bed, which Cato had arranged for me in bright, lady colors and joyful hues that do me no good now. I don't even have time to try and knee him - he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall, his legs ravaging mine to tear them apart. My throat is becoming raw from my shouts and it looked like the inevitable will happen no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try. The soldier had a hungry look on his face in the dark as he fiddled with his clothing and my own (which that damned Cato kept lacy, satiny, and thin).
I'm terrified beyond belief, I don't want to accept this fate, I'm still fighting as he grinned down horribly at me with his yellow teeth. The bulging, bright-blue eyes were now large bug eyes peering into somewhere they didn't belong, didn't belong at all. I know how this is going to end and yet a part of me deep inside desperately begged fate not to let this happen, to stop this. Perhaps even death would have been better than this. I saw his lips moving, he's talking but I don't hear what he's saying - a nametag on his uniform glinted when it caught streaks of moonlight - CASPER - I'm just struggling to get him off me - anything - anyone - please, help - no one will help me now - but still, please - PLEASE -
I jumped at the coldness of the knife he suddenly had gotten out, that I didn't know he had. He growled, "One more chitchat from you - "
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.
An unearthly groan filled the room, piercing and haunting with its eerie wail. It was a creature deep in pain, a creature on the verge of being swallowed by death. It didn't come from my lips, as I thought it was at first - it emerged from Casper's. I watched Casper, horrified, as his body bent forward, slumping onto what would've been me if I had not moved out of the way in time. It was easy for me to slip from his lifeless grasp. The hands were cold and clammy and unmoving.
I'm looking into another pair of blue eyes - this time, a familiar pair of cold, icy orbs. My eyes trailed from the king's hulking form to his giant moonlit shadow to the giant blade gleaming with blood that he held in his hand. Despite his calm demeanor, he looked furious.
He nudged the body of Casper with one thick boot. Then, seemingly satisfied he was dead, Cato yanked aside the balcony curtains and threw open the balcony doors, which before I had thought completely unopenable. Grabbing the dead body as if it were a rag doll, Cato lifted it and hurled it off the balcony, straight into depths of the night.
I'm standing there openmouthed, I'm also standing there with my entire body shaking and my knees about to collapse. Cato locked the balcony doors shut and drew the curtains so the room was dark and private again and nobody could come in.
He came over to me, and I shook even more not because of the murder he committed but because he was a man and I was a helpless woman and he was an armed man, and I was an armless woman who had almost been to the very last layer of hell. Then he suddenly pressed me into his warm chest. I tried to draw myself away at first, but his hand soothed and rubbed my back lightly as a friend would comfort another, and my head, as of its own accord, came to rest on his shoulder.
He's a man, my head told me.
He saved you tonight, retorted my heartbeat (which was ever increasing even though the obvious danger was dead).
I stayed that way for a long time, pressing into him and burying my head in his chest. He did not seem to mind even though he was furious before, and his giant, rough, calloused hands that were somehow familiar caressed my back and hair with the gentlest touches I hadn't known a man could make. He held me in his arms just like after our lovemaking. While I wrapped my arms tighter around him, he wrapped his warm, red king's cloak with white fur for trimming around me.
He carried me to bed. When he tucked me in, I felt strangely small and dependent, and I didn't like that. But I was too weak and too tired and confused tonight to put up with another fight. Pulling up my straps, I thought he was going to leave when he turned away, and I strangely panicked, for I desperately didn't want to be alone tonight after all that's happened. But as it turned out he was fetching a chair and he plopped it right next to my snug, warm bed.
He uttered to me the first words he's spoken all night, "Sleep."
To some it may be a simple message. And it was. But to me, it meant everything at that moment. It was the easiest thing I had ever been commanded to do. I closed my eyes, and felt warm, pink lips press against my forehead, cast upon me like a spell. And I fell fast asleep.
Sometimes I awoke at times during the night, often when I jerked awake, after my mind flashed me frightening images of shadows and dark visuals. I woke in a dreamlike trance and gazed around for any sources of the frightening images. One time I realized Cato did not draw the curtains all the way, as there was still a slit of moonlight coming from the balcony doors. It brought about the dark room a little shaft of light.
It brought my world a little closer to dawn.
I woke up feeling ill in the morning. Not plain ill, but in fact very ill. I briefly wondered if last night was a dream. Then I am horrified that perhaps only the Cato part was a dream and I had been knocked out and...the thought hurt too much to finish. Something mysteriously dark clouded my mind, but I couldn't recall any definition of it.
I sat up, daring to stretch and yawn a bit. OW! It felt like I had been stung in the cheeks. When I felt them they were both throbbing. So last night had not been a dream. I feel a sharp stab in my chest. Suddenly, it's as if I have trouble breathing.
My breathing is rapid and heavy and panicked as I glanced around in a wide-eye frenzy. I don't know for what I'm looking for but I stop looking once my eyes land on him. Asleep on a chair he might have pulled next to my bed, his head resting on one arm. His lashes fluttered every so often now and then, matching the beating of my heart.
My breath came back to me again. So the inevitable didn't happen. Because this man had saved me. Because this man, who had me for himself, had saved me. Because this man had murdered. For me.
For me. For me.
But why? What made him kill one of his own guard for someone from another district? And why do I assume he killed him for me? He could've killed for a variety of different reasons. He had lots of reasons.
Maybe he thought he was a burglar. Or maybe...
I had to halt my thoughts as the king's eyes suddenly flashed open. They glanced piercingly at me - straight at me, and then scanned the tower room. He got up noiselessly. If he was aware I was watching him, he didn't seem to notice. Only, he reached over and swiped the cloak, the one that I had forgotten was still wrapped around my shoulders. The soft red velvet made gentle swooshing sounds as he fastened it around his own shoulders.
My hands rake through my disheveled hair, automatically twisting the strands into a braid.
I hated awkward situations. As if my life wasn't crazy and upside down enough. But then again, I hated being in-debt to people even more. To Peeta, for saving me that faithful day. To King Undersee (but I already repaid him by serving in his army). And now to the brutal king of 2. He and I had struck up a deal, but I only agreed to protect Prim. And now I owe him (big time). I fucked up so badly. How did my life come into this? How did my life come under the shadow of a monster?
He now looked at me, but neither of us spoke. The silence was driving me crazy. His stare was driving me crazy. I had to say something. Say something, Katniss. Say something, you idiot!
And not, thank you for saving my life. He didn't. No, instead you owe him. He just wants to suck you dry.
This made me frustrated. All I wanted to do was scream. Maybe that's what inspired my first words to him this morning. "I am no slut." I felt self-conscious as soon as I said it. I'm not! I wasn't!
He looked me in the eye. A momentary silence reigned about the room. Then he nodded. "I know."
I was not convinced. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not - "
"I know you're not a whore, either," he interrupted.
This time the silence that followed could've been considered more than a bit awkward. But again he didn't seem to notice. And he didn't seem to care.
He doesn't care about anyone but himself, I thought sullenly to myself. I suddenly glanced up. Perhaps that's why he killed his guard. "The only reason you saved me was because you didn't want anyone else, wasn't it? You want me to yourself, you didn't want to share my body with anyone else. That's why you saved me."
"Do you believe that?" His voice was soft, so soft that I looked at him with a startled expression. He wasn't looking at me.
I expected him to be angry, furious even. Deep down, I know I probably should've muttered some sort of thanks, but it just made me even more frustrated at how unfair everything was. I didn't want to thank this monster for killing that other one, especially not since he didn't treat me like a human being.
I bit my lip. I was suddenly very uncomfortable. "Why else would you have cared?"
He furrowed his eyebrows. His mouth twitched a bit, enough for me to notice. It was then that I decided I've had enough of this silence. Jumping out of bed (after making shirt I had at least my nightshirt on), I quickly began stripping off the bed sheets and materials.
"What are you doing?"
"Could I wash my bedsheets sometime? They smell...like sex." I wanted to rid all memories of last night for good. Forget the fucking debt.
He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. "Isn't that what we've been doing?"
"I know...but can I - can I wash them? To - " I was blushing fiercely now, " - to get rid of t-the stuff?"
He stared at me for a while longer, and I just know he was watching how red my cheeks turn! He proved my point by breaking into gales of laughter. I thought he muttered, "You are so precious", but I wasn't sure. I did hear him when he said, "You know there are plenty of servants scurrying around."
"I don't trust any of them."
"Not even Lavinia?" A look of amusement adorned his face.
I scowled. He had no right! "You - "
"I know more than you give me credit for. You confide in her."
Lavinia was definitely the sweetest, most innocent being I've met in this kingdom, but caring about someone is only another added weakness. If I am to remain strong, I decided it was best for me not to show my emotions. "No. She's only here on yours orders, and I see her nothing more than a naive, dull-witted child with a high-pitched voice. I only notice her at times I want someone to talk to." I decided to sound extra harsh just for the hell of it.
Cato didn't get to reply before a chorus of muffled sobs echoed from the hallway. I glanced slowly at him, my heart sinking in horror. The unlocked door slowly slid open. A red-eyed girl stuck her head into the room, strands of hair coming off from her usually-neat bun.
"I - I didn't know I bothered you so much," she sniffled, tears streaming down her cheeks (The only thing I could do was stare in horror), "I didn't know how you t-t-t-thought so. I'm r - r - really sorry f- for bothering you this whole t - t - time. N - next time I'll keep m - my childness to m-myself. I'll v-v-visit L-Lady Clove!" And with that the maid ran the way she came from, her sobs following her down the hall. She dropped whatever she was carrying inside the room.
My mouth, which had been hanging open, closed and opened, opened and closed. "I didn't - I was - "
"You were?" Cato inquired, his eyebrow raised. His tone was very much amused.
"You set her up!" I hissed at him, jerking my head in his direction. "You set me up with her!"
"I had welcomed her to visit you in the morning if she was pleased. I set up nothing. She was here of her own accord."
Somehow it didn't seem like he was lying, but nonetheless I was still angry. "It's your fault. She was my friend," I hissed venomously, pulling the sex-soaked covers up to my chin. All that lovemaking last night had - wait, lovemaking?! WHAT THE FUCK?! Has everything that happened driven me crazy? What we did before my "exploration" last night was DEFINITELY NOT lovemaking. If I called it lovemaking, it was by accident. I do not love anybody in 2 and not him, especially not him! My mind has been fucked with, I thought, and then I mentally slapped myself for having to phrase it that way.
"Katniss."
I looked up with a snarl crossing my face. He didn't even blink an eye. "You look as if you're about to vomit."
No, thank you. I've eaten food rotten to the core before on a tender, empty eleven-year-old stomach and have never once thrown up before. Sometimes my mother's patients would, but it disgusted me so much that I'd always step out of the room. I've always promised that I'd save myself the embarrassment of throwing up in front of other people. If I can hold down Greasy Sae's stew of squirrel organs and dried mulberry tea leaves, I can hold down whatever the fuck I ate last night, which I can't remember at all.
I started peeling the bed sheets again, ignoring Cato. Or trying to. It's rather difficult to change your bedspread when he stood there smirking at you as if you and him had an important secret between yourselves and he has the power of letting the world in on it or not.
Third Person POV
"You're here. Good. I was expecting you," said a silky voice. Clove sat at her vanity table, peering at her reflection. It had to be perfect.
Lavinia took a deep breath and began brushing her mistress's hair. Her own red hair was bundled up in a falling-apart mess that used to look something like a top-notch bun.
"My Lady, I apologize profoundly for being late," Lavinia began, but Clove shushed her.
"Keep your mouth shut, girl. Right now my hair is of most importance. You are so late!"
Lavinia didn't say anything else, even though she had to bite her tongue to manage it. She tasted a couple drops of warm, metallic blood and shuddered.
Clove's hair wasn't difficult to brush. It had been rinsed and lathered and squeezed (excess) and washed in fruit juice so much that it was like one, long, thick, shiny thing. Despite her guilt, Lavinia secretly envied her hair. It was thick and dark and shiny and Lavinia wished her own hair could be a few shades darker or a few shades lighter. She didn't like being stuck in the middle with average hair and an average face that she's always been told she had. She was used to being average...but her young heart secretly yearned for someone someday to maybe - to just maybe look at her the way King Cato looked at Katniss or the way Lady Clove looked at King Cato.
Lavinia thought Clove was beautiful in every way except personality-wise. She didn't dislike her, but sometimes, just sometimes, Lavinia wished that Clove would treat her like she treated King Cato. Whenever he came in, Lady Clove's day would suddenly turn exceptional. Even if she was having scream fit with Lavinia, whenever King Cato stepped into the room, Lady Clove's attitude suddenly became much nicer and sweeter.
Lady Clove is sweet on His Majesty, Lavinia thought with a little giggle. But is His Majesty sweet on her? Does his heart yearn for her? They should, after all they are engaged. But I've seen the way he gazes at Katniss. It's like those fairytales Mama used to tell me. With a little sigh, Lavinia giggled once more, dreamily stroking one of Clove's shiny locks.
Unfortunately for the maid, Clove had heard the giggle. Now, Clove didn't like secrets that she weren't in on. And whenever she heard so much as a peep or a giggle behind her back (literally), she did not think otherwise. She hadn't slept ever since meeting that Katniss, and she wouldn't sleep until she could get her hands on that little piece of filth. How dare it spat on her - and how dare it sat in her seat! It even dared to look at her Cato. It was vying for Cato's attention - she just knew it - dirty whore - she'll make sure it gets what it deserves. Clove's lip curled - to think that she had to spend extra time with her eyeliner this morning just because her eyes were red! Oh yes, she'll show them.
"Laviniaaaa," she started to say, rolling her tongue.
Lavinia wondered if she was to reply. After all, she had been given orders to keep her mouth shut.
Lady Clove was not a patient lady. "Laviniaaaaaaa," she sang mockingly. How dare this servant girl KEEP SECRETS from her and then IGNORE her?!
Lavinia's eyebrows knitted together. "Yes, my lady?" She set the brush down.
Clove spun her vanity chair around so that she was facing her. A little smile graced her thin lips. But it had not a touch of the friendly, playful grins she saw on His Majesty. And Katniss's scowls looked friendlier than that smile.
"How are you? My...little pet." Clove slowly got up from her chair, her shiny, tangle-free hair cascading down her back. Her grin widened.
"I'm g-g-good, Your Majesty..." Lavinia suddenly found herself wanting out of here more than anything else in the world. She took a step back because Lady Clove was coming closer.
Lavinia closed her eyes. Maybe if she closed them this would go away. She felt her bun being taken out and her messy hair sweeping over her shoulders. A hand, a small but firm hand glided down her back and played with a couple strands of her hair. Lavinia almost stopped breathing.
Clove was invading her personal space. More than ever. The shorter, dark-haired woman rested her head on one of Lavinia's fragile shoulders.
"I'm so glad you're good. So, so glad." Clove flared her nostrils as if sniffing Lavinia. Her head moved. Lavinia dared not move. She didn't even realize she was holding her breath.
"You're a good little servant girl, aren't you? Always obedient. Always hardworking. Always...loyal." Clove found it rather amusing to circle around Lavinia. Poor little rat was shaking, and it was all because of her, soon-to-be-queen Clove's majestic powers. She loved it, loved it, loved it.
"Let's not play anymore of your games, shall we?" She cooed to Lavinia in a sweet tone. "Let's play one of my games." Her hand scanned through the maid's red hair, and Lavinia couldn't hide her shaking anymore. She wanted to say something, but what if Lady Clove -
A smirk tipped on Clove's bright, painted lips. "I know you've been playing games with Cato, too. You're been playing secrets with him, Lavinia.
"But I don't like secrets. I don't like them one bit. Now we're going to play Troothsie. I ask you a question, you tell me the truth. Simple enough even for someone like you to understand."
Lavinia finally found a small spark of her voice. "M-M-My L-Lady - "
"Shut up. Now what's that Katniss girl doing outside of prison?"
Guilt was added to Lavinia's fright. She'd been taking care of Lady Clove for a long time, but Katniss was so kind. Could she really - gulp - betray one of them for the other?
"ANSWER ME!"
But honesty is the best policy, right? "His Majesty ordered it."
Clove felt a firestorm explode inside her. Her hands, they itched to cut something. Right. Now. "Ah. But why would he order such a thing? What does he want with her?"
Lavinia couldn't tell the Mistress! It'd be too awkward, too awkward! And she didn't want to embarrass Katniss or His Majesty. Her head started pounding along with her heart. Bile formed in her throat, and big, fat, salty teardrops brimmed in her eyes.
If it was what she thought it was...Clove forced herself a deep breath. She looked her maid straight in the eye and whispered breathily, deeply, "Tell me what relations they have with each other! Are they...intimate? Do they...kiss? Do they...?"
Lavinia's lip trembled - she couldn't bear the next words that she knew were going to come out of Clove's mouth. She closed her eyes. She didn't reply.
But Clove's paranoia understood everything. And she went into pandemonium.
Clove started screaming, not screaming but SCREAMING. And HOLLERING and SHRIEKING and YELLING and SHAKING her head until her hair flew out behind her like a mangled nest. Her voice continued to carry down hallways, corridors, everything. She shrieked and she shrieked, clawing her own dress and then Lavinia's face.
Lavinia didn't even have time to whimper before Clove started grabbing whatever she could find and hurling it everywhere. Precious jewels, makeup, her fruit, anything that was around. She cowered at the sight of the woman tearing her hair and beating her chest with her fists. She was such a coward! She never did anything...and then her gaze fell upon the door. Instinct told her to run. She didn't think twice.
Clove grabbed Lavinia before the maid could make it out the door. Yanking her by the hair, she threw poor Lavinia upon the ground and proceeded to savagely shower fruit and a tea set upon her. Lavinia tried shielding herself with her cut hands, but the pieces were sharp and the fruits were hard and it was getting harder to see with her hair and tears covering her face.
Clove had ran out of fruit, but she picked up her carving knife. Lavinia tried to crawl away but gave a loud yelp of pain when Clove viciously stepped on her stomach. Once again she was grabbed by her tangled hair. Once again Lady Clove had shoved her face close to hers, looking her in the eye. But what scared Lavinia even more was that Clove was yanking her up by one hand. The other held the knife.
Lavinia watched it glint in Clove's small hand, the same glint now shining in those steely gray eyes of hers. Lavinia's entire being shook as fresh warm tears ran down her face all over again. "Please, Highness, don't, I beg of you! - "
"Shut up Red Hiding Hood, this might hurt a little..." Clove's grin vanished as she carefully made the first cut.
"What were you thinking, sneaking out in the middle of the night?"
"What was I thinking?! You're the one who left the door open, in case your peanut-sized brain can't recall!"
"My peanut-sized brain can recall you doing other very stupid things, 12." He hesitated, before adding, "You could've gotten yourself killed."
Katniss felt as if she'd been hit by a brick. "...Why do you care?"
FUCK! Cato thought, slapping a pitcher of water off the nightstand. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with a response to that.
"And anyhow, who is Clove?" Katniss looked down at her hands, not at him. She remembered the girl from last night well.
Cato froze. He stared at her. Stared hard. "What?" He wasn't sure if he heard the name correctly. If he did, he was in a big. Pile. Of. Shit.
"I said, who is Clove? That dark-haired girl at the feast? I saw her last night and she sent your hounds aka Peacekeepers after me. She claimed she was your queen."
"She is not."
Katniss felt a weight lifted off her chest. She knew the girl couldn't have been queen! But if she wasn't queen... "Who was she then?"
"She's...someone like you."
He was met by silence. Then: "I am nothing like her!" she said rather snappily. "And anyways, that doesn't tell me who she is!"
"I know."
She mistook his tone as one for sarcasm. "The least you can do is tell me who she fucking is. It's not like I don't know about the others."
He froze. "What others?" he asked softly, whispered in a dangerous tone.
Katniss knew that what she was doing at the moment may not have been the smartest thing to do, but she refused to be anyone's piece of meat. She was used to standing on her own ground. "The other girls whose lives you fucked up."
His hands clenched into a fist, a bit of red clouded his vision. His teeth gnashing together, Cato felt his blood boiling. "I'm starting to see your resemblance to them," he snarled.
"Maybe it's because I'm EXACTLY like them, another one of your victims!" Katniss retorted, "You were going to throw me away sooner or later and then go to that Clove. That's what I get for sleeping with the enemy!" She hurled a pillow at him after letting out a frustrated scream.
Despite himself, he couldn't help the amused smile that suddenly graced his lips. "Are you jealous, Katniss?" he asked softly, tilting his head to the side just a bit.
Katniss felt heat and redness sweeping over her body. Standing up, she drew herself to her full height. "I am not jealous," she hissed vehemently through her teeth as though if she was a viper about to strike, "I am sleeping with the enemy, and I'm being used as a pawn! I am put in danger everyday - "
"Shut up, Katniss. You are not in danger everyday. I may ask things of you, but we both agreed to a deal. I could have easily tossed you to the dogs, I could just have easily as broken my part of the deal and watched you suffer. Yet you fare better than any of the prisoners here. You are given more than enough to eat, a room of your own. Protection from soldiers with little moral. I don't care one bit for your attitude."
"My ATTITUDE?!" snapped Katniss indignantly. "Excuse me for being taken as a prisoner, being forced to sell my body to protect my family, and being nothing more than used! Excuse me for not having a fruity attitude because there's no one I can trust around here! Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!" She furiously began twisting her hair into a tight, ropey braid all the while glaring at him.
Tension hung about them, adrift in the air as if part of their breaths. They stared at each other for awhile in silence.
"I thought you trusted Lavinia," Cato said, quietly.
Katniss didn't speak for a couple of moments. "I really hurt her, didn't I?"
"She's sensitive," he nodded, "She takes everything to heart. But she really isn't a bad person. I do not approve of her gossip, however." He looked pointedly at Katniss, who bit her lip. One minute he acted emotionless, the next he went all berserk. She really didn't know what to make of it - what to make of him.
She was just examining him deep in thought - when the doors suddenly burst open and a redheaded woman threw herself onto the ground.
Katniss First Person Pov
"Lavinia!"
I have never seen such a sorrowing site (even in war). The girl's simple maid dress was torn and stained with dried blood. Her hair was not in a bun anymore, but simply a wild nest with little things in it (that looked like small chunks of fruit?).
It was a struggle to help Lavinia to her feet, so Cato and I both (rather roughly) yanked her. I couldn't help noticing that she flinched at our touches and wouldn't turn her face towards us; she simply threw her face on my bed and sobbed (I had to note that her sobs were unlike any sobs I've ever heard of).
"Lavinia." No answer.
"Lavinia. It's me." Still no answer. The king and I exchanged glances, and I do not remember the last time I saw such concern on his face. It arose something in my chest that I did not think of, not at that moment anyway.
"Lavinia, I'm really sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it and I didn't want to hurt you. I take it all back, okay?" Apologizing was not usually something I did in front of Cato. I've learned that District 2 warriors see apologies as a weakness because you are admitting you were wrong. Nonetheless I meant it so bad when I said it to Lavinia.
"Lavinia, please."
She was no longer sobbing uncontrollably now, but I'm pretty sure both Cato and I could still hear her weeping softly. The sound clawed at a corner of my heart, she sounded so much like a girl Prim's age, so very, very much. But I'm not a healer and I'm not usually one to comfort people, especially if I don't know what's wrong.
"Lavinia, please tell us what is upsetting you."
"Lavinia, we'd appreciate it," added Cato.
Slowly, very slowly, Lavinia turned her head towards us, and I realized how hard my heart was pumping. I'm ashamed to admit to myself that if it weren't for the hair, I probably wouldn't recognize her. Her normally-creamy skin was streaked with dirt and covered with little scars, some still red, and big, ugly purple bruises. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying. The tears were still coming out.
"Lavinia, what happened?" I found myself speaking more harshly than I intended to.
"Who did this?" Cato asked, in an even sharper tone.
Lavinia didn't reply. Instead she quickly buried her head in her arms again. But Cato, grabbing her hair and swinging her head so that she faced us again, leaned close to her face. "Who did this to you, Lavinia? I command you to tell me!"
I felt sick when I saw Lavinia's head roll back like a rag doll. Cato's cold eyes widened. I fought the sudden urge to hurl, for upon seeing this reminded me of seeing little children dying in the Seam and how their heads would casually roll back just like Lavinia's did.
"Lavinia, I'm begging you, please speak!" I didn't care how desperate I sounded. I wanted to know what had happened to Lavinia - Prim number two.
Lavinia moved her head, and the relief on Cato's face matched my own as she confirmed she was still alive. Then, not looking either of us in the eye, Lavinia titled her head back and opened her mouth.
Bright red. The inside of her mouth was a blinding, bright red. Her teeth were stained red. Had she been poisoned? Stabbed? I peered into her mouth some more and suddenly I realized something: I do not see a tongue. Someone had cut off Lavinia's tongue. Right out of her mouth.
"So that's why you couldn't tell us who did this," muttered Cato. The poor creature nodded in reply, tears still streaming down her face.
A tidal wave of anger and pity and sorrow coursed within me. What kind of scumbag would be cruel enough, crazed enough - Wait a minute. "Lavinia, weren't you going to visit Clove after you...left the room?"
At that name, Lavinia gave a terrified yelp (or as much of a yelp as she could) and tears began falling faster from her eyes.
The speed that Cato rushed out was indeed a superhuman speed. I heard him shouting curses and swearwords as he marched down the hall, his kingly red cloak flying out behind him.
I have never been the best at comforting someone, but sometimes that didn't matter. I held Lavinia close to me. I even let her bury her head into my shoulder. At that moment, I realized that Clove, queen or not, was a monster. She was way worse than Cato.
Lavinia looked at me, and tried to smile through her tears. The sight of it almost broke my heart, and I hugged her tighter, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling bubbling in my stomach. I went to fetch Lavinia the doctor, but hadn't taken two steps when I doubled over, and threw up.
Katniss First Person Pov
Sometimes I feel like life likes to fuck us around. The doctor came pretty quick (somehow I imagined Cato having something to do with this). After he treated Lavinia, he came to see me. He handed me a funny little thing and told me to go and pee on it.
That's how I knew that life liked to fuck me the most. I sat there for a long time and didn't speak, didn't move. Lavinia had to comfort me when it should've been vice versa.
She couldn't talk, but she communicated with me to tell him. The very last thing I wanted to do, but I did it anyway, because Lavinia wanted me to and because he would've eventually had to know.
This was all his fault. He was a monster. How could I have thought otherwise? His face remained impassionate as I told him. He didn't speak nor move a muscle. He muttered "Fuck," when I shouted, "Say something, you bastard!" and punched him multiple times on the chest. And he let me.
I have one advantage to take of this. He will not hurt me as long as I carry his child within me, which means he will also not likely hurt my loved ones. This is pretty much the only reason I manage to stay alive this moment.
I didn't jump like I normally would have when he asked if I'd like to see Prim and Mother. I knew what he meant. I had to tell them. As degrading, as humiliating, as disgraceful as it was, I had no choice.
I haven't seen Prim and Mother for months, and the sight of them stirred something within me. Normally, I would've jumped and ran to them and crushed them into me (and I am normally not a hugger). But...not this time. However glad my heart is to see them, it's also filled with dread, such as if poison is weighing it down.
They got up at the sight of me. Their eyes looked a little brighter. Prim ran right to me, trying to reach me. It broke my heart when the bars stopped her.
When our hands reach for each other through the bars, theirs squeezed mine until I felt like I was bruising. Our teardrops mingled, as did our touches.
"Katniss - is that really you - "
"Oh Katniss, I thought..."
"Mother...Prim..." I whispered, dreading the upcoming. I closed my eyes, knowing that Cato was standing right behind me. Probably with that bastardy impassive look on his face, I thought angrily.
"Katniss! Let me see you, let me take a good look at you..."
"You've been through a lot..."
Have I?
No kidding.
I took a deep breath, but couldn't will the courage to make eye contact. So instead I stare at their brown loafers, caked in dirt and mud. I avoided meeting their eyes at all costs. This was almost as bad as looking death in the eye on the battlefield. I waited for their excited chatter to stop. Then, taking a deep breath, not coming up to meet their eyes, I told them.
"I'm pregnant."
I wanted her to realize she was pregnant after meeting Clove...that way I can play the dramatic music: DUH DUH DUH.
In this chapter particular, Lavinia kind of reminded me of Dobby from Harry Potter. They're very different characters obviously but I spotted a few similarities. Just thought I'd acknowledge that ;)
Once again I apologize for the delay. Poor, poor Lavinia! This chapter was difficult for me to write, so I left out the details of Clove's horrible deed. Lavinia was an Avox in the original story and I had planned for her tongue removal in the early stages of this story. Originally it was going to be done by Cato , but I felt like the deed suited Clove better. The idea for Clove didn't come until I was writing the second or third chapter.
But do you think Clove loves Cato?
Oh, and when I was writing this sentence: Lady Clove was not a patient lady, I was so tempted to add (Or even a lady at all) but I refrained from doing so, LOL.
MY BIG ANNOUNCEMENT: There is a contest! Because you all are so amazing, so patient reviewers I will pick one of the reviewers for this chapter to appear as a character in the next chapter. Your name will not simply be mentioned, you will be in the story (I might create a variation of your name though ex: If your pen name is Guest, I might put you in as Gus or Guesse. That's just so I won't end up having names like Banana42 in the story, but I'll still let you know if I pick you :) To enter all you have to do is review.
I will pick only one reviewer, unless there are two reviews that are absolutely so brilliant, so amazing, so super-duper that my brain cannot decide! They will not be picked at random but instead I will pick the one that is the most insightful, detailed, and inspirational. You all are amazing, but sometimes one of you really make me smile for an entire day. (And even if I don't pick your review, know it's the thought that counts and I still adore them all.) Unfortunately, I will not be counting one-word reviews or the classic 'update, please/now/soon/asap,' you get the idea, etc. Although I love you all, we're going to keep it fair :D
I'm sorry for making you wait so long, but know that I WILL finish this story and FOAM if it's the last things I ever do. I have plans for both of them :) On a side note, I'm planning to write some Greek mythology this summer. Of course I'll work on Enraptured Prisoner as well.
To the lovely reviewers of last chapter, deep thanks to you all SO MUCH:
nsheldonb (thank you so much for being so patient! now you know! :), sweet-mclovin (thank you for reviewing :), thepinkmartini (always love your reviews, thanks for always bothering to review! And thank you for acknowledging Lavinia. Preview #1 will come in at a later chapter), Firework7 (lol glad you like it, ty for reviewing :), babyblazeful (Thank you so much! 2 of the previews are for this chapter, but the other one will come in for a later chapter), The Giggling Gummy Bear (sadly at the time I was not even close to being done, I'll be honest but thanks for always reviewing. It is done now and the next one is in works! And thank you so much for letting me know, you have no idea how much it means to me :), Darkness Bandit (wow! Thanks for the long review! Clove scares me too, but don't worry, Finnick will make a reappearance ;)! And as for Katniss I mentioned once that she was almost but not yet 20 and Cato is 21), sundragons9 (hi, I missed talking to you! hope to speak with you again sometime, ty for review), Inescapable Void (Oh, man, you always have a way of making me smile. I really appreciate your review, more than I can say. I love them!), Abigail25, Guest, Guest 2, rayleen14, ExeliaWave, CatniponFire, Sweet Violent Lightning, thank you all! Hookonpeeta, dragonflame, A Tasty Little Thing, thank you all so much :) Jacqueline Rasky and all the other reviewers that wanted an update, here is your update and thank you so much for your review.
A special little shout out to SarahJToner, aww, thanks! Your review meant so much to me 3 It made my day for days :)