Peeta and I are separated and taken to smaller suites where a new set of stylists transform us for the second half of the evening. I am grateful to have my hair down again in its usual braid and I am dressed in simpler clothes. Although, I do find it odd how simple my attire is: soft, silky, dark olive green pants and a black tank top. My makeup is still heavier than I would like.
I ask my stylists what is expected of me, but they work in complete silence. The only thing that is explained to me is that Acantha and Garret requested a private audience with Peeta and me. The lack of undergarments and specially placed perfume aids my suspicions of tonight's activities.
Once I am prepared, I am sent down the hallway, following a soft trail of red light.
"It's just an act. Smile, breathe, play along and you'll be back to your room before you know it," Finnick whispered to me before an usher placed his hand on my back, directing me to the small suite.
I can barely breathe as I walk down the hallway. The thought of smiling makes me sick. The thought of being used again makes me sick. But this is for Peeta.
My bare feet on cold stone bring me closer to two Avoxes draped in a sheer fabric standing in front of a large door. Gilded from head to toe, they resembled statues. Even their eyes were coated in the precious metal. Although blind, one Avox knows I approach and kneels with an offering of a gold quiver. I see that it is purely decorative as the plastic arrows sheathed inside are fixed in place. It would be terribly stupid to allow a Victor to have any kind of weapons in this intimate setting.
I sling the quiver onto my back like an old habit, however I feel uncomfortable with the odd size and weight of it; it is too light and provides no sense of safety and it does not quell my shaking.
Once situated with my costume, the second Avox opens the door to a much larger suite. The room is illuminated with floating red lights matching the pathway I had to follow. Holograms of fire lick the bottom of the walls, filling me with fear. Even though the room is cool and smells of cinnamon, I anticipate the smoke and pain.
I come to a small table with a single flute of champagne and a small card that reads Some Bubbles to Ease Your Troubles. Although I am tempted, I refuse the offering. The morphling and Haymitch's white liquor were lessons enough. Next to the fine crystal glass, I see a small water ring left on the marble.
Around the corner is another room with a different kind of light; soft blue flames encompass this side of the suite. Here, my bare feet find thick, fluffy white carpet.. On the far wall, is a large canopy bed, covered in red and white silks and even more pillows in different shapes and sizes. I swallow hard at the anticipation of laying on that bed, and a new, deeper shiver runs through me and lands deep in my stomach.
In the center of the room, Acantha and Garret are seated next to each other on a plump gold couch, which almost engulfs them in soft black silk pillows. Acantha sees me first over her lover's head, which is nestled in her bosom.
"Katniss," she hisses. "Darling, you've made it. Honey, look, she's here!" she exclaims to Garret as she pushes his head away and turns him towards me. Garret has shed his dinner jacket and wears a simple white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, revealing an intricate pattern of golden tattoos that travel down his arms and lick his wrists. Acantha's main staple to her attire is a red corset, pulled so tight her breasts nearly touch her chin.
"Oh, she looks wonderful! Absolutely perfect. Katniss, go ahead and have a seat next to Peeta," Garret sweeps his hand across the room to an arrangement of round grey pillows which in this light look like boulders. Sitting on the floor is Peeta, wearing cargo pants and t-shirt, and on his left leg a red silk scarf is tied just above his knee.
Behind him, a silent projection of our game footage plays on the walls, specifically of our time in the cave. I swallow hard and try to keep calm. This couple is obviously obsessed - and because of our attire, I doubt their hobby will remain innocent.
"This was our favorite scene in the whole games!" Acantha says cheerfully as she plucks an arrow off the small end table. She points it at us like a conductor and says, "Go ahead Katniss, you remember the words don't you?" Acantha says as she sits back and presses the tip of the arrow against her middle finger, spinning the shaft slowly with her other hand, eagerly awaiting the play to start. She's biting her lip in anticipation.
I find my seat next to Peeta. "Hey, are you okay? What is all this?" I keep my voice low, not ready to begin the scene. What in the hell does this couple want us to do, exactly? Once Finnick explained what had been expected of him in the past, I figured tonight would be pretty cut and dry. I glance back to the bed in wonder.
Peeta nods and leans back against the pillows and folds his hands over his belly. "This is what they requested. It's fine, Katniss. It'll be like a school play," he whispers with a smirk and then clears his throat and starts with a loud voice, "Katniss, thanks for finding me."
I know the words; I've seen it a million times. The interviews about this moment and the constant recaps make it impossible to forget. Even without the replays, I doubt I would ever forget. I was ashamed of what I did, but it was for Peeta's own good. It was the only way to get the help we needed. Obviously it worked – because thanks to Acantha and Garret, we're alive and sitting in front of them tonight.
Peeta's willingness to play along makes me wonder if he knows what is going to happen. Has Haymitch briefed him? I certainly didn't get a heads up. Did Peeta get the same prep I did? Which leads me to wonder if he too isn't wearing any underwear. I bite my lip at the thought.
"You would have found me if you could," I recite my lines, placing a shaky hand on his forehead. This reminds me of how close he was to dying in that cave, and how scared I was. I won't let this happen again.
"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back —" He says his part with the same painful look on his face from before. I shush him and brush his hair back. This is incredibly awkward. It smells too sweet in here, the floor is too soft, and the conditions are just too pure. In the Games we knew about the cameras, but they were something we could shrug off and ignore. Having real people only feet away, mouthing the words with you demolishes any meaning this moment has left.
Peeta continues, "But just in case I don't —" I shush him again and place my fingers to his lips.
Peeta clears his throat and looks at our audience. Garret is leaning back in his seat, legs comfortably splayed in front of him, his right hand high on Acantha's thigh. She's biting the shaft of the arrow now, tapping her feet in anticipation.
I wait for Peeta's next line. He hesitates, and swallows hard, "But I —" With that I lean down and kiss him, quickly and simply, much like a school play.
"You're not going to die. I forbid it. All right?" I say my final line quickly and plainly and I hear a squeal and a clap. Peeta grins at me and whispers, "This may be easier than we thought." It comforts me to see him so calm – he's great in awkward situations and I know I am safe with him.
But then Garret clears his throat, loudly.
"It's not quite right, is it dear?" He asks and keeps his gaze on us. Acantha, still wrapped up in the moment, is too excited to be extraordinarily critical of our performance. "You're our favorites you know. We like you two, a lot," Garret continues, "We paid for you two, a lot. Acantha even has your arrow that saved Peeta and killed Cato; she won't put it down. That's how much she adores you."
The idea of coveting such an artifact sickens me. What other souvenirs were out there? Knives? Spears? Bricks? Who has a bouquet of Rue's flowers?
"Don't be shy, show us how much you adore each other," Garret says, his fingers ripple over Acantha's fishnet stockings as he moves his hand further up her short black skirt. Peeta and I look at each other, unsure of how far all of this is going. "Again!" Garret calls out like a director, making us flinch and Acantha gasp pleasantly, "Let's try that again, shall we?"
Peeta wiggles in his place and gets situated for Take Two and begins again, "Yes. Look, if I don't make it back —" I repeat my movements and brush his hair back off of his forehead.
"Don't talk like that."
"I know. But just in case I don't —"
"No, Peeta, I don't even want to discuss it," I move my fingers to his lips, shushing him.
Without hesitation this time, when he gives me the cue and I lean down and kiss him. I hold it longer, like the time we fell in the snow in front of our houses. Whatever the size of the audience, I have to do my best. My hand sweeps down onto his chest, my fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Peeta's hands come unclasped from their place on his belly and he places them on my waist. Peeta must know Garret wants a show because he parts my lips with his tongue and I too start to play along.
A familiar chime sounds and we look up. Acantha is prancing towards us dangling a silver parachute in front of her.
"Congratulations! It's a parachute! What could it be?" She sings while swaying it back and forth as she lowers it in front of us. Once it is settled on the floor, she prances back to her seat, giddy for the next act. Peeta sits back as I open the parachute. Sure enough it is hot broth.
Moving on, I reach out to touch his forehead again, miming the character of a caring partner, and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips. I remember this bit; I even thought it was cute.
"No more kisses for you until you've eaten," I say sternly. Peeta is propped up and ready for the broth that has been provided us. He drinks from the silver can obediently.
I look up at the projected images of our scene in the cave – the Peeta on the screen is bloodied, filthy and emaciated. I look back at the clean round cheeks and manicured nails of the boy lying next to me, who sips at the broth slowly, and not with feral gulps as before.
"You too, Katniss," Garret directs, he had gotten up and moved to the table across the room behind the couch that has a magnificent spread of food and drinks. He picks some grapes and tarts for himself as well as a fresh glass of liquor. I take the broth from Peeta and take a sip, keeping my eyes on Garret as he strolls back to his seat; all the while he never takes his eyes off me.
"That's it, you need your strength too. Bottoms-up," Acantha sings, gesturing upwards with her arrow.
It was a simple broth, a little minty, but good. I didn't mind finishing its contents considering I hadn't eaten much at the Sponsor's Ball dinner. I set the can aside and look back to Peeta and shrug as if saying, 'what now?' There were a lot of moments in that cave, a lot of boring, stupid moments too. If they demand I tell the story about that stupid goat again, I'm shoving this parachute down their throats.
"Katniss," Acantha says, pointing her arrow at me again. "How is Peeta's leg doing?" she asks, leaning forward to get a better look. It's gone you stupid bitch. I turn to Peeta, knowing this is starting to get out of hand. But what can we do? They saved us before, and they might save us again. It's one sick game after another and I'm getting tired of it. Again, I have no choice.
I set down the small metal can that held the broth and lean over Peeta's left leg where the red scarf is tied. I put my hands to his leg and act out the scene as I try to hold back real tears while I slowly undo the red handkerchief tied around his thigh. Peeta looks away and waits for me to say my line.
"Well, there's more swelling, but the pus is gone," I say again in an unsteady voice. I look up to the glass chandelier, trying to keep my tears from falling. It has twelve little blue flames on it.
Peeta slowly turns back to me and smiles. "I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss. Even if my mother isn't a healer," he starts to giggle. "She's a breaker, not a baker. Ha, hear what I said? A breaker!"
I stop and wonder why the change in script. Peeta's head has rolled back and his eyes are clamped shut as he giggles.
Acantha interrupts the scene, and leans forward in her seat next to Garret. "Darling, I can't see. His pants are in the way. Let me see his leg," Acantha demands.
Peeta begins undoing his belt. "What are you doing?" I say, shocked at his eagerness to go along. He shifts his pants down, eyes closed, leaning back against the soft grey boulder. "Oh, I don't care if you see me," Peeta slurs, "you know, you're kind of squeamish for such a lethal person."
He manages to push his pants down to his ankles exposing every bit of him. Acantha gasps in amazement at the transition of flesh to metal and plastic. "It's so primitive!" She claps.
Shocked, I throw a nearby pillow on Peeta's lap, covering him from the voyeuristic couple. I start to feel flushed and slightly dizzy – my mind races, thinking of a way out of this, thinking of a way to protect Peeta. I know certain things were expected of us, especially after the special prep we endured before arriving in this suite, but Peeta was the last person I thought I would see drop trou so eagerly.
The corners of my vision become sparkly, reminiscent of when I was stung by the tracker jackers. Suddenly my panic ceases, and warmth spreads over my shoulders by delicate hands, urging me to stand up. Calm envelopes me and I can breathe again. The very same hands undo my braid and brush their fingertips through my hair, working from my scalp down and around to the front of my chest, making me shiver.
Sweet breath brushes my ear and neck. "You want to help him, don't you? Make him feel... good?"
The hands slide down my arms to my waist and push my silk bottoms down from my hips, allowing the smooth fabric to pool on the floor around my feet.
"Look at him. He needs you," Acantha purrs in my ear. Peeta remains in his place against the pillows, eyes closed and smiling.
"Are you here to finish me off, sweetheart?" Peeta giggles again as he throws the pillow from his lap and starts to sweep his hands back and forth across his torso, pushing his black t-shirt up, exposing his bare chest.
"What's happening?" I ask, my pulse quickens at the unobstructed view of him again, but it's from giddy excitement, I realize, and not from fear or embarrassment.
I step out from the shimmering green silk around my feet and I tiptoe over Peeta. I ease down slowly onto my knees at his side. He's shiny and amazing.
Johanna's words float in my mind. "I have no regrets about the things I do, because I chose to do them."
Suddenly, I want to touch what he's touching.
My hands follow Peeta's, rubbing his smooth chest and belly, grazing over the soft blonde hair below his belly button. Peeta takes my hands in his and guides them further down to touch him. I want to pull away, but something keeps my hands in his and I accept his offering. The texture of his skin in my palm is not what I imagined – much softer than his belly. My tummy feels fizzy and everything seems brighter.
He grows hard in my grasp. With his hands still on mine, he guides them slowly, up and down, and I become familiar with his shape. I feel calm, sparkly and good; new warmth rolls over me with a flash of need and want.
Mint lingers on my tongue and I shake my head.
"Put it in your mouth," Garret says from his seat on the couch. He sounds far away.
"What? I don't–" I stammer, unsure of what it means.
"Put Peeta's cock in your mouth, girl. Come on, do as you're told." Garret clarifies his instructions which echo in my ears.
Acantha is seated on her knees slightly behind me. She combs her fingers through my hair again, gathering it in her hands. I turn and look at her - she gives a sultry smile in return. I follow her red eyes back to Peeta, he's still grinning and petting his chest all while his cock, as Garret put it, is fully erect. Acantha's hands lightly push me forward and I take Peeta in my mouth.
Peeta flexes and sits up slightly the moment my lips slide around him.
"Oh my god, Katniss, what…" Peeta begins to say, his eyes wide, but he is immediately shushed by Acantha.
"Relax, darling. She's taking care of you. Doesn't that feel. . .better?" Acantha says reassuringly and lays her red tipped fingers on his chest, when she does, Peeta practically melts back into the pillows with a sigh.
I gently feel him with my tongue; he tastes so different than anything I've imagined. Not sour like the palm of your hand, or sweet like a kiss. This discovery adds to my delight and I begin to move, up and down, the same way he made my hands stroke him. I add pressure with my tongue and that produces a moan from Peeta. His sound makes me smile and I do it again a little harder - his hips rise, which pushes himself deeper into my mouth.
Soon, he ventures too far, and I have to break away for a moment to catch my breath. When I sit up, Acantha turns my head to her and she kisses me. Warm and wet and minty. Her red nails press into my cheek as she pushes her tongue between my lips.
"Acantha, dear. Don't be so selfish, eh?" Garret intervenes quietly.
Acantha surprises me, but the action of another woman's full, bright red lips kissing me makes things even shinier, and an aching sensation grows in my core, persuading me to move my right leg over Peeta. I straddle his upper thighs where his shaft sits just inches from my middle. An incredible heat radiates between us.
Urges overwhelm me and I rock forward against him as I lean over to kiss his mouth. When I feel the hardness of him, I whimper against his lips.
The hands that guided me before are now on my naked hips. Sharp red fingertips press into my skin and provoke me to rise up slightly. My own hand takes hold of Peeta and moves him to my entrance, and I ease back down, allowing him to slide inside. It's not a sharp, jarring pain this time. There's a pressure there, but somehow I am so wet, it's a comforting pressure - I hear myself make a sound I've never made before. It surprises me, but I kind of like it.
Bubbles surround Peeta's blonde hair and they pop in different colors as he lets out a moan. Both of his hands move to my hips, intertwining with fingers that already linger there. Both sets tighten against my skin. He pulls my hips forward and I follow his lead, lifting off him and then back down. He's gentle but full of purpose. Both my hands are above his head, gripping the pillows for balance. I am amazed at my heightened senses; I feel his entire length as I roll forward. When I ease myself back, I feel everything inside and it's incredible. He pulls harder and I speed up.
"What's happening?" I whisper. The blue room has shifted to red. I look at the walls, our arena footage is no longer playing, but silhouettes of figures are dancing in the flames, performing different sexual acts; some slow, some with a ravenous pace. Lights flicker and the room becomes hotter. I swallow hard and bear down, quickening my pace even more. Peeta puts a hand behind my neck and pulls me forward and kisses me while his other hand explores my body.
There is so much stimulation that I can't catch my breath. I sit up and lean back, and try to swallow again.
Suddenly, Acantha pulls me back softly, off and away from Peeta. I am still on my knees with Peeta between them as Acantha tilts my head back with her hand at my throat, leaning me against her body. I hear the cheap plastic quiver that I am still wearing crackle and crunch between my back and Acantha's tightly bound breasts. Her other arm wraps around my torso and she drops her hand between my legs. Her slick wet tongue slides along my neck just as her middle finger glides over my center, making me shiver and recoil from her hand. It is too much.
I look back down at Peeta and see Garret now kneeling beside him. Garret is without his white silk shirt, the entirety of his golden tattoos now exposed, vines with thorns digging into his flesh. He leans down and takes Peeta in his mouth. Peeta giggles and moans and slides his hands over his sponsor's scalp.
Garret stops for a moment, after giving Peeta's shaft a long lick, from base to tip, he looks at me and says, "You taste amazing."
Acantha tightens her grip on my throat and continues to rub me with her middle two fingers, dipping inside a little further with each stroke. She then sticks her shiny and wet digits in her mouth and replies to Garret with a satisfied purr, "You're right. Sweet like a sugar cube."
It's too much, it's too hot, and it's too dry. Acantha fingers resume their venture. My panting becomes moans and sounds I have never made before. Soon, her hand is moving too fast. Sparkles are turning into static.
I have to move.
I break Acantha's embrace and get up. "I'm sorry, I have to — I'm thirsty, I need a break. I–"
I run to the table with the food and wine and grab the first glass I see and gulp the contents down. I look back at Acantha and Garret who are wide-eyed and yelling something.
The red lights have transformed the color of everything in the suite. The grapes are now the same color as the cut pineapple. The rainbow of macaroons are all the same hue of grey. The beverages even, from the red wine to the purple tinted spirit that induces vomiting.
