When our train arrives in District 12, our prep teams are horrified at the state they find us in. They do the best they can to make us presentable for our few minutes of waving and smiling at the train station. Then we're whisked off to the mayor's house to be prepped for dinner tonight. The schedule is so tight that we won't even see our families until the dinner.

I'm reluctant to be separated from Peeta after the breakdown he had after his nightmare, but he gives me a weak smile and tells me he'll be fine. Nevertheless, as soon as my prep team releases me I go looking for him. I don't find him anywhere on the third floor where I was prepped, so I head down to the second. I hear the television droning on in the mayor's office and decide to stick my head in to say hello, maybe he knows where Peeta is being prepped, but the room is empty. On the screen Peeta and I dance in footage from the Capitol party from last night. Peeta looks like he's having the time of his life, while I look distracted as hell. This will be playing on every screen in Panem right now. No wonder nobody in the districts buys into the Star-Crossed Lovers from District 12.

I'm actually somewhat surprised this is still airing, after the change in strategy I discussed with President Snow. I guess he is still pushing the Star-Crossed Lovers storyline in preparation for the news of our baby.

I'm about to turn around and leave when the screen goes black and the sound is replaced by a beeping noise. After a moment the words "UPDATE ON DISTRICT 8" start flashing on screen. This is nothing I'm supposed to see. I should go. Quickly. Before I get caught in here.

Instead I find myself frozen in place.

An announcer I've never seen before appears, a gray-haired woman with a hoarse, authoritative voice. She warns that conditions are worsening and a level 3 alert has been called. Additional forces are being sent into District 8, and all textile production has ceased.

The video cuts away from the woman to show the main square in District 8. I recognize it because we were there only last week. There are still banners with our faces waving from the rooftops. Below them, there's a mob scene. The square's packed with screaming people, their faces hidden with rags and homemade masks. Buildings burn. The crowd throws bricks and stones at the gathered Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers shoot into the crowd, killing at random, but it only slows them down.

I've never seen anything like it, but I can only be witnessing one thing. This is what President Snow calls an uprising. And it's this realization that finally spurs me to flee the room.

…..

Peeta and I are both barely performing during dinner. He's still a shell of himself, and the presence of his mother at dinner isn't helping. All I can think about is what I saw on the mayor's television. We seek each other out for comfort, and I can only hope that's enough of a show for whoever is watching. Who is still watching us, anyway? Certainly not anybody in District 8.

We aren't left alone until they drop us off at home for the night. We obviously can't talk here, but it would look too suspicious if we walked out to the road to town in the middle of the night.

A solution doesn't present itself until Peeta offers me first chance to wash my makeup off. Instead I grab his hand in a death grip. "Shower with me." I don't give him the chance to refuse, dragging him toward the bathroom with me.

We learned early on during the Victory Tour that it's easier to wash all the gunk off when we shower alone, but Peeta voices no objection. I turn on the tap before also starting the shower, then begin fumbling with the fasteners on my dress. I usually need Peeta's help to get out of these Capitol dresses.

Peeta gives me a funny look when I enter the shower with the sink still running, but he follows wordlessly. Once we're under the heavy stream of water, I step close to him and pull his head down to mine so I can place my mouth right by his ear. I even cup my hand over my lips, just in case.

I get straight to the point. "There's an uprising in District 8," I whisper.

Peeta jerks back in surprise. He searches my face for something, maybe to see if this is part of some sick joke. But I'm sure all he can see there is dread. He leans back down and mirrors my earlier gesture, placing his lips by my ear and covering both with his hand. "Did you see something?"

"On the mayor's television, after they prepped me for dinner. There was a crowd, people in the streets. And fires. The Peacekeepers were gunning people down but they were fighting back…" I bite my lip and struggle to continue describing the scene. Instead I say aloud the words that have been eating me up inside. "And it's my fault."

"No!" he says harshly.

"It is," I insist. "If I had just killed myself with those berries-"

"Then we'd both be dead," Peeta cuts me off. "And Prim would have had to bury her sister less than five years after burying her father. And without you she and your mother probably would have starved."

I know he's right about all of that, but I still can't focus on anything but the images of people being shot in the streets while chanting my name. "What are we going to do, Peeta?"

"We're going to have a baby."

Now it's my turn to step back in shock. Peeta's face is deadly serious, which I can't reconcile with the ridiculous statement he just made. He pulls us back together so he can speak into my ear again. "Do you think President Snow will break our agreement now?"

"Well, with an uprising going on, I doubt he's spending much time planning us a shower!"

"I think he might be doing exactly that," Peeta says. "You explained to him that promoting us as lovers was a bad idea, right? That it was only egging people on. Well, this is a pretty spectacular demonstration of how right you were."

I don't know if Peeta's words make sense or if I just hope they do. I said myself that President Snow wouldn't come after us so long as we were helping him. But what about what Peeta said, that we might be doing the wrong thing by helping to stop the uprisings?

I think for a moment of the scene I saw from District 8. The chaos. The madness. The Peacekeepers firing indiscriminately into the crowd. The dead bodies falling to the ground. If that was happening in District 12, every one of those bodies would belong to someone I know. Gale hates the Capitol enough to be part of a riot like that. Would Rory be fighting with him? Prim might even be out there, trying to help the wounded and getting caught in the crossfire. And all to accomplish what? The peacekeepers have all the guns. There are more of us than there are of them, but more of them are only a hovercraft away. We'd never stand a chance.

No, Peeta is right. Our best move is to keep our heads down. Have our baby. Keep ourselves on President Snow's good side, such as it is. Keep our families safe. We do what Seam folks have always done: Survive.

…..

The next day begins with a short victory rally - technically our last Victory Tour appearance - before the Harvest Festival celebration. We always celebrate the Harvest Festival on the final day of the Victory Tour, but usually it means a meal at home or with a few friends if you can afford it. This year it will be a huge party in the town square, with the whole district invited. And since this year's Festival is being paid for by the Capitol as part of the Victory Tour, there'll be enough food for everyone in Twelve to have full bellies tonight. It's enough to put a smile on even my face.

Peeta and I make our way around the Festival. Unlike the party in the Capitol, or the district events filled with dignitaries trucked in for the occasion, most of the people in Twelve leave us alone. We speak with a few old friends, like my old neighbor Leevy and Peeta's friend Delly Cartwright. I even speak briefly with Rillis Cooper, my husband's former fake girlfriend. But for the most part Peeta and I are content to silently observe the festivities. Seeing so many scrawny Seam kids with great heaping plates of food, it almost makes all of this worth it.

While the Capitol is putting on the Festival celebration this year, I'm glad to see that it isn't all Capitol food being served. There are some dishes that are distinctly Capitol, platters of seafood from Four the likes of which even the wealthiest town residents never see, there are also plenty of hearty District 12 dishes. Peeta recognizes many of the breads and pastries as having come from his family's bakery. I'm glad that District 12 workers are being paid to supply the Festival.

As we make our way from table to table, I spy a familiar figure staring skeptically at a display of shrimp. I'm somewhat surprised to see Gale here today, I'd thought he'd be underground by now. This does afford me an opportunity, though. I nudge Peeta to get his attention and nod over to where Gale is standing. "I'm going to go talk to Gale. I need to catch him before Sunday."

Peeta nods in understanding. "Right. Well, wait a minute. I don't know if that's a good idea." I give him a skeptical look; he seems to be fighting back a smile. "How are you going to convince President Snow you're not sleeping with him if you keep doing such intimate things as talk to him in the middle of a crowd of a thousand people?"

I turn sharply and scowl at him. "That's not funny."

He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls us together. "Come on, it's a little funny."

"Very little," I say.

"I think it's hilarious," he says. "People think they know you so well, but they don't know the first thing about you. Makes me feel kind of special, that I get to see the real you."

Peeta does this all the time, just when I'm starting to feel a bit snippy towards him he reminds me how sweet and loving and perfect he is. I lean up and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You're more than just kind of special."

Peeta's smile is breathtaking. "Well I'd have to be, to win the heart of the mighty Katniss Everdeen."

"Mellark," I correct him automatically. Mayor Undersee today actually used my married name when he introduced us at the rally. Whether he did that because President Snow finally gave the okay or just because he knows us, I don't know, and I think it's probably best if I don't ask.

"Now," Peeta says, smiling even wider. "Not at the time."

I roll my eyes at him, stepping back out of his embrace. "I think we've done our required mingling for today. How about after I talk to Gale we get some food and actually sit down to eat?"

"Sounds like a plan," he says. "Good luck."

When I make my way over to the seafood display, Posy has joined Gale in contemplating the shrimp. I know they've probably never seen it before; we don't exactly get a lot of shellfish in the Seam. "I don't know," Gale is saying as I walk up to them.

"It's good," I offer.

Posy turns and gives me a sweet smile. Gale just asks, "Oh?"

"We had some in District 4. Just don't eat the shell. The meat inside is tender and kind of sweet. The sauce might be a bit too spicy for Posy, though."

Gale nods. "Why don't you bring a plate over to Mom?" he suggests to Posy, who eagerly runs up to the serving table to comply.

"I'm surprised to see you here," I say once we're alone.

Gale shrugs. "They closed the mines for the day. Part of the celebration."

"Are you still getting paid?" A day off work in the mines means a day without pay, which usually means a day without eating. With his hunting and my surreptitious assistance, Gale's family won't go hungry due to a lost day of work, but plenty of Seam families will have nothing this Festival celebration to fill the gap left by their lost wages.

Gale's sneer confirms my fears. "What do you think?" It shouldn't surprise me, really. The Capitol never does anything to benefit anyone other than the Capitol.

I move on to the reason I sought him out. "Gale, I need to talk to you and Hazelle. Can I come by later after the kids are asleep?"

Gale eyes me warily. "That'll be pretty late."

"It's important," I say, trying to communicate the same message with my eyes.

"This can't wait for Sunday?" he asks skeptically. Undoubtedly he's thinking the same thing I would be in his place, that we could talk more freely in the woods. The thought sends an almost painful jolt through me, because if things go the way I'm fervently hoping they go then I'll never see the woods again.

"No," I say, and even in my ears my voice sounds strained. "it can't."

Gale stares at me for a long moment, but finally agrees. "What's this about?"

"We can't talk here," I tell him. "I'll be by later, okay?" Gale looks like he wants to ask more questions, so I turn and leave before he can.

I find Peeta by one of the dessert tables, with a small cake on his plate. He has a small smile on his face as he examines the cake, turning it back and forth to see different angles. "Not up to your usual standards?" I ask him.

"No, not really," he says. "Do you recognize it?"

I take a good look at the cake. It's tiny, no more than three or four bites, and it has a three-petal flower design on the top. It takes me a moment to place it, because Peeta's right, the design isn't done very well. "Is that supposed to be a katniss flower?"

"I think it is," he confirms. "My father and brothers would have been busy baking everything for today. Since I wasn't available, my mother was probably the one who iced these."

It takes a moment for that to sink in for me. "So you're saying that your mother had to make a thousand little katniss flowers on all of these cakes? In my honor?"

"Yep," he says with a grin.

I actually laugh at the thought. "I guess that explains why they aren't very good," I say.

"I'm not sure that my mother has ever actually seen a katniss flower," Peeta says.

"After seeing these cakes, neither am I," I say, and we both laugh.

As tempting as the desserts look, I let Peeta drag me away towards the more savory dishes. We gather as much food as we can carry and find an empty table to sit at. My mind is still filled with the image of Peeta's mother icing katniss cakes. "I wonder what she'll say when she finds out I'm pregnant," I wonder.

"Probably nothing good," Peeta says.

I decide I don't want to talk about his mother anymore. "I'm going over to the Hawthornes' later," I say.

Peeta nods slowly, choosing his words carefully in this public setting. "Do you want me to come with you?"

I think for a moment. Gale's going to be difficult enough without having Peeta there in his house. "No, I think it's best if I go alone."

…..

As I'm approaching Gale's later that night, I begin to think that maybe I've made a mistake. Peeta is so good at talking to people, maybe I should have brought him with me to help explain things. I'm not good at saying something. And it's not like Gale and I were on the best of terms even before I left for the Victory Tour.

Hazelle is hospitable as always. She invites me in, offers me tea, asks me some questions about the Tour. Gale sits silent on the other side of the table next to his mother. It's like he doesn't know what to make of me anymore. I realize how easily I could lose Gale completely, to no longer have even the strained relationship we've had these last six months. Especially if he sees me as a tool of the Capitol. So I go straight to the heart of my defense.

"President Snow personally threatened to have you killed."

Hazelle gasps, but Gale just raises his eyebrows slightly. "Anyone else?"

I'd roll my eyes if the subject weren't so serious. "Do you really need a full list? It's basically everyone in both of our families."

"Unless what?" Hazelle cuts in. Trust her to focus on the important things.

"Unless we make it more valuable to him to keep you alive."

"Does President Snow really care about what we do here in Twelve?" Gale asks.

"No," I admit. "He only cares about you because he can use you as a cheap way to threaten me. Prim is too well known since everybody saw the reaping. Killing you costs him nothing. So you'll be the first to go if he wants to punish me."

"Well, it's nice to know where we rank in the scheme of things." His voice is bitter, but he has a glint in his eye that makes me fight a smile. This is the Gale I've missed these last few months. His sense of humor was one of the first things I liked about him, back before we became friends.

"I do have a plan, you know. That's why I needed to talk to you two."

"Yeah, I bet it's a stunner. Let's have it," he says.

"You can't go out to the woods anymore."

All hints of amusement fall from his face. "What?"

It's not until now that I realize just how much I'm asking of him. As important as the woods are to me as a connection to my father, they may be even more valuable to Gale now, now that he spends six days a week underground. Still, I press on. "Snow would rig the reaping to reap someone I care about. It would make a good show for the Capitol and it would be a great way to torture me. I got him to agree not to reap any member of my family, but he had some conditions. One is that no one take out any tesserae. The other is that no one can go outside the fence."

Before Gale can reply, Hazelle cuts in as the voice of reason. "So you're saying unless Gale stops hunting, Rory will be reaped?"

"More than that," I say. "So long as Gale stops hunting, and nobody takes out any tesserae, Rory will never be reaped. And neither will Vick or Posy when their time comes up. And neither will any of their children."

"You got Snow to agree to all of that?" Gale asks skeptically.

"Haymitch and Peeta are the real brains behind most of this," I say.

"I'm sure," he says. "So who else is involved in this?"

"My whole family," I say.

"So Prim," Gale says.

"And Peeta's brothers."

Gale scowls at that. His mother asks, "And all of their kids too?"

"Yeah," I say. "We haven't decided yet how much to tell the others, so you can't say anything to anyone. And this can't become public. If word leaks out about anyone being protected form the reaping, Snow will reap them just to disprove it. So keep this to yourselves, and only tell the kids if you're sure they'll keep it secret." They both look slightly disturbed, but they agree.

"So what does Snow get out of this?" Gale asks.

I open my moth to answer, but then I hold myself back. I can only imagine what reaction Gale will have to the news of my imminent pregnancy, and after everything that's happened these last few days I can't deal with that tonight. "Our cooperation," I say without elaborating. "Don't worry about it. All you have to do is stay inside the district, never take tesserae, and keep all this quiet. Do that and you'll be safe."

"And we won't let President Snow use us to threaten you," Hazelle says.

I smile grimly. "Exactly."

…..

Gale insists on walking me home. He makes a couple of small comments about the parts of the Tour that were shown on television, but smalltalk was never a strength for either of us. He tries a couple of times to get me to reveal more about our deal with President Snow, but I'm characteristically tight-lipped about it. He hadn't liked it when I brought up Hazelle's new job as Haymitch's housekeeper, but Hazelle had understood the need, and I could tell she appreciated that I had gotten her another job rather than offering them charity.

Gale's accompaniment ends at the gate to the Victor's Village, as I suspected it would. "I think you can find your way from here," he says.

I could have found my way just fine from his house, but I don't say that. "You're allowed to come to the Village, you know. Rory's up here all the time visiting Prim. Without hunting, we're not going to see much of each other if you refuse to come within 500 feet of my house."

"Yeah, maybe sometime," Gale says.

I want to roll my eyes at his stubbornness, but suddenly this conversation is making me incredibly sad. "Are things always going to be this awkward between us?"

Gale flinches, and I take some small satisfaction that at least he understands which of us is making things awkward. "I hope not," he says.

I have no idea how to interpret that, so I just say, "Yeah, me too."

The conversation ends there. "Goodnight, Catnip," Gale says, and heads back to his home. I turn and head towards mine.

...

The first weekend after the Victory Tour, the first Sunday I don't spend in the woods with Gale, we get a massive snowstorm that leaves us housebound for three days. Peeta and I take advantage of the time and isolation to throw ourselves headlong into babymaking, but for the first time sex between us doesn't have the all-consuming passion I've come to take for granted. Even though we spend three days in bed together, huddling for warmth when we aren't otherwise engaged, it feels like we're drifting further apart.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what's wrong. For the first time, we're not having sex for each other. We're trying to make a baby for President Snow. I know we'll both love our child, and I know we both love each other, but somehow that doesn't help heal the distance I can feel growing between us. At times like this I can't help but wonder if we did rush into things too quickly. Of course, it's not like circumstances left us with a lot of choice, and I couldn't imagine my life without Peeta in it every day. But this is the first time in my life I've been in a romantic relationship, and I don't know how to deal with problems like this when they come up. And it seems, neither does Peeta.

A week later we get an unexpected shipment from the Capitol: An entire box of Capitol-produced pregnancy tests. Their constant presence in our bedroom does nothing to help us grow back together.

It's another three weeks after that when one of the tests comes up positive. I'm pregnant.

…..

Kind of a short chapter, but I pretty much had to end it there. I had a lot of fun with this one, a lot of interesting twists on canon scenes. I entertained myself, at least.

Next chapter: Time to tell the grandparents! And Uncle Gale!

Preview quote from Chapter 15:

"I need you."