"Gale. I'll need him with me to do this."
I'm sitting at a table in Command, Gale on one side, Peeta on the other, negotiating the terms of my being the Mockingjay. They've already agreed to let Prim keep Buttercup, to let me go hunting with Gale, to let Peeta be in the props alongside me, but there were still a few things I have left to work out.
"With you how? Off-camera? By your side at all times? Do you want him presented as your new lover?" Coin asks.
She hasn't said this with any particular malice—quite the contrary, her words are very matter of fact. But my mouth still drops open in shock and I feel both Peeta and Gale shift uncomfortably on either side of me. "What?"
"I think we should continue the current romance. Especially if Peeta is to be a part of the propos," says Plutarch. "Especially since people think she's pregnant with his child."
"But that's a lie," Peeta interjects. "I made that up in the hopes that they'd cancel the Quell. We didn't actually get married in secret and Katniss isn't pregnant."
"The country believed your story," Plutarch says, looking surprised. "The Star-Crossed Lovers from District Twelve who defied the Capitol time and time again to keep each other safe. We can't just take that away from them."
"But it's a lie," Peeta says and he sounds angry.
"Peeta, it's ok." I say and touch his arm.
"No, it's not." he says. "For two Hunger Games we're been the Capitol's pawns and now you're asking us, no, you're telling us, that we have to do the same thing for you."
He's right. I'm surprised for a few reasons, mainly because Peeta knows that it wasn't all fake. At least, he must assume that after what happened last night.
"So, what?" Coin says, an edge in her voice. "You'd like us to come out and tell the districts that it was all a lie? That the two people they look up to have been pretending in order to save their own skins? Is that it?"
Peeta glares at Coin.
"No, we certainly can't do that," Plutarch says and he looks truly horrified at the prospect.
"Agreed. So, on-screen Gale will be portrayed as a fellow rebel and Peeta as Katniss's lover. Is that all right?" Coin says. I just stare at her. She repeats herself impatiently. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?"
I'm rattled by this conversation for a number of reasons. The implication that I would so readily dispose of Peeta, not to mention the fact that he's sitting right next to me, that I'm in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. The fact that they want us to keep pretending. But it's not really pretending anymore, is it? Is it? I don't know. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I'm devoting any thought as to who should be presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. It doesn't help either that I keep thinking about the kiss Peeta and I shared last night, but I try to ignore this and let my anger propel me into my greatest demand.
"When the war is over, if we've won, the people in the districts get to decide who the new president is."
This is met with absolute silence. I feel both Peeta and Gale's eyes looking sidelong at me. I probably could have told them both about this. Oh well, too late now. Coin is looking at me across the table with an unreadable expression. Plutarch looks confused.
"Well, of course!" he says as if that's always been the plan. "That's the whole reason we're doing this thing. Democracy! Wouldn't be right if the districts were fighting the war and had no say in who the leader was. I will personally be voting for President Coin, of course, but..."
He trails off when he sees Coin's face. The fact that she didn't automatically agree with everything Plutarch said tells me all I need to know.
"A free and democratic election, is that what you want?" Coin asks me. Is that what I want? That sounds good, but I've never really thought about what to call it. I look at Gale, who shrugs but looks amenable. Then I look at Peeta, who's trying to hide a grin. He nods encouragingly.
"Yes." I say. If I wasn't on her bad side before this, I definitely am now. She can't say no, how would that look? I wait for her to say yes before dropping the next bomb.
"Then it will be so." she says and looks like she wants to move on from this topic.
"I want you to announce it in front of Thirteen." I say firmly.
"I will do no such thing," she says, and her voice sounds icy and that's the last straw.
"You will personally pledge in front of the entire population of Thirteen and the remainder of Twelve, that when we've won the war there will be a free and democratic election to decide who the next president of Panem will be. Soon. Today. It will be recorded for future generations and for the rest of the districts when they're free. You will do this or you will find yourself another Mockingjay!"
My voice hangs in the air for a moment and I realize that I'm not only standing but leaning over the table towards Coin. I hold my ground.
"That's her," I hear Fulvia hiss to Plutarch. "Right there, with the costume, fire in the background, just a hint of smoke."
"Yes, that's what we want," Plutarch says under his breath. "What do you say President Coin? We were bound to hold an election anyway, it couldn't hurt to announce it. It might even be inspirational for our fighters! 'Be a part of the new democracy! Make your voices heard for the first time!' Besides that, you can use the moment to announce your own candidacy."
Coin looks as though she'd like to smack me across the face.
"Fine." she says. "But you'd better perform."
"I'll perform when you've made the announcement." I say.
"Anything else?" she asks.
I nod. "Annie Cresta, Johanna Mason, and Enobaria all get pardons once they're safe."
"Easy enough," Coin says and waves her hand as if to try to move things along.
"Announce that as well." I say and I know I'm teetering on the edge of asking for too much.
Coin's eyes flicker to her arm, then to the clock. She, too, has a schedule that she must adhere to. "I leave her in your hands, Plutarch."