The phone rings in the middle of the night.
"Who could be calling us at this time?" Peeta asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
I turn to the clock. It's about 4 am.
"Don't go," I pull him to me, "Whatever it is, it can wait."
"Okay," Peeta says, lying down again.
The phone eventually stops ringing, but we don't fall asleep. The next thing we hear is Haymitch's phone, ringing in the house next to ours.
"Whoever was trying to call us is calling Haymitch now," Peeta states, perplexed.
A couple of minutes later our phone rings again. Peeta gets up and puts his underwear and leg on before he rushes downstairs to take the call. As he changed all his personal details and information to this house when he started living here, the call may be directed to any of us.
I'm still sleepy, so I take my time to put on my nightgown and robe on and join my husband downstairs. When I get close to Peeta, the call has already ended but he's still staring at the phone. "Fuck," I hear him say, and it makes me feel scared. Peeta doesn't usually swear, so it must be serious. But what can be so serious if we're fine and Haymitch too? Peeta has no family left, just like Haymitch, so all I can think about is my mother. Has something terrible happened to her? It sends me into a state of shock and I can't bring myself to ask my husband what's going on.
"It was President Paylor on the phone. Enobaria is dead," he finally speaks.
"What? How?" I ask, stupefied.
"I don't know. It happened yesterday, but so far it hasn't been divulged to avoid commotion and crowds. The President asks us to attend the funeral at the Capitol… As two of the six remaining victors."
I had imagined this would happen one day. After Finnick's death, only seven victors were left. As national relics it was obvious that we would be attending each other's funerals in the decades to come. I just didn't expect it to be this soon. Enobaria was still young and Beetee, the oldest living victor, is looking good and healthy and is still decades away from old age. I must admit to myself I had feared Haymitch would be first to die because of his drinking addiction.
Peeta gets dressed and we go to Haymitch's house when we realize all the lights are on. Lana, still wearing her nightgown and robe, opens the door. Haymitch is on the phone, trying to obtain more information from Plutarch Heavensbee.
"What happened?" Peeta asks him when the call ends.
"Enobaria was murdered by an old client. She went shopping at the Capitol yesterday and was approached by the man. Now that the dictatorship ended she could afford to refuse him. The man followed her to the hotel and stabbed her," Haymitch explains.
Of course she refused. How could anyone believe any of the victors wanted to take part on the forced prostitution business of the Capitol?
Lana doesn't look surprised at all. She seems to know clearly what kind of business Haymitch is talking about. I guess she didn't work only some days a year for the Hunger Games' tributes. She was a state slave; perhaps she served people like Finnick and Enobaria the rest of the time.
Peeta is the one who takes it worse. He shakes his head and sits separately from us. Haymitch is very shaken up as well. As a mentor in the Games, he had known Enobaria for years.
"There's nothing for us to fear, sweetheart," Haymitch tells me like a father would, "It's perfectly safe for us to go to the Capitol."
No one of the six remaining victors was on the business. Jo and Haymitch had their families killed and were turned into examples of what happens to rebellious victors, so there was no way to blackmail them into it. Beetee was too nerdy. Annie wasn't selected for some reason and Peeta and I just happened to come in the end.
Since the day Peeta and I got Haymitch drunk, more than a week ago, he has been on his best behavior. He must have had a hard time when he regained sobriety, as now he's very obsequious to Lana and caters to her every desire. Lana, on the other hand, still acts like she despises him.
"My love," Haymitch says to his wife with a sheepish look, "We need to attend the funeral at the Capitol. We should call Bligh at the inn now, don't you think?"
She huffs. Haymitch picks up the phone and starts dialing.
I approach Peeta and sit with him.
"We would have had the same destiny. Being forced into that business." I say softly, knowing that is what he's thinking.
"Only you," Peeta replies sadly, holding my hand a little too tight, "Enobaria as good as told me that in that day we voted for the new Games. She told me the Capitol deemed me undesirable because of my amputation, but they still wanted you. They would play along with our marriage and then make up a scandalous divorce. There was nothing I could do to help you once they decided the star-crossed lover thing wasn't relevant anymore."
I had no idea, but it isn't that surprising. Annie is very pretty, but she was never taken into the business and I guess it's because she shows some hints of mental instability. Peeta is attractive and eye-catching but he has a fake leg. The regime only appeared to select seemingly perfect victors into that business.
"But it turned out okay for us," I reassure him, afraid this will trigger a flashback, "I don't want to think about it. There's nothing to worry about anymore."
"That's what she was doing while Jo, Annie and I were being tortured. People always assumed she was having fun and being treated like an ally by the Capitol," Peeta says, "She said she was very disappointed that she wasn't rescued alongside us. I understand. I'd rather be tortured than do that."
After failing to get in touch with Peeta and I, someone calls Haymitch to inform us that a permit has been issued for me to leave Twelve and attend the funeral.
We make all the arrangements we deem necessary to be away for a day: Hazelle will come twice to take care of the cats and clean our house too. She'll be there at 6pm and we'll call her to know how everything is going.
A special train comes to pick us up two hours later. It's not the train that comes every week, but one that is only used in special occasions.
"This is the train that took us to the Games and the Victory Tour," Peeta states.
It's true. Our wagon is still intact and nothing seems to have changed or been moved away from place. There's a staff to cater to our every need and tons of nice food just as before. For a moment it's chilling and it takes me to a past I would rather forget.
"Mr. and Mrs. Mellark," an employee in a suit says, "We have preserved the bedrooms in which the two of you used to sleep. No one has used them ever since. Since you're married now, you may decide if you want to sleep in the two separate rooms or share a bedroom."
"We'll sleep together, of course," I say.
"Of course," the man agrees obsequiously, "Which of the rooms do you want to take?"
"Hers," Peeta replies in less than a second.
The man leads us into the bedroom and, getting inside, I realize the joy of seeing it again overcomes the dread. I never thought it would be possible to be in this room once more, although I've dreamed of it so many times. I can still see my younger self here at night, wrapped in the sheets, screaming from the never ending nightmares. Peeta, always roaming around the train, would wake me up and calm me down. He always chased my nightmares away. I remember the way I let him into my bed every night, how I longed for it and how I miss the thrill of mystery and doubt that surrounded us in those moments. Of course none of us ever made any attempt to move things forward, but it was still exciting to have that possibility.
"Is it still the same bed?" I ask.
"Yes, ma'am. No one would replace the Mockingjay's bed," the man replies, almost offended by the question, "Do you want us to change to a king size one?"
"Please, don't," Peeta replies, "This one fits perfectly."
"Yes, sir," the man says before leaving the room to fetch our suitcases.
Everyone knows we always slept together in this bed, anyway.
We don't have time to linger in the bedroom because we are called for breakfast, but I long for the moment where it won't seem rude to go to sleep. Would it be acceptable to take a nap after breakfast? We barely slept last night, after all.
As we meet the rest of our entourage, I think how fascinating it is that everything is still the same: The plushness, the expensive variety of food, the mahogany, the polished paneled walls. It's like a piece of our lives was frozen in time, preserved exactly like the last time I saw it. Although our lives are so much different now, I'm still waiting for someone to reveal we're being held hostage or anything like that. Peeta shakes his head as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking and gives me a dazzling smile of reassurance.
Beetee refuses to attend the funeral because of Enobaria's alliance with Gloss, since he was the tribute that killed Wiress. Annie says she has to take care of the baby and Jo excuses herself saying that she needs to take care of Annie. It means the three of us, alongside Lana and Bligh, will represent the victors. It's nothing new, just the same group of people in a different environment, Peeta keeps telling me.
"I wasn't friends with Enobaria, but she was not all bad," Haymitch says, "We must remember who the real enemy was."
We all nod. I almost like Enobaria now that I know she treat Peeta nicely once.
"Lana, remember the fight I told you we had with Haymitch? It was right here, in this same table," I show her the knife's dent and she laughs. I wonder why the table wasn't changed after the damage.
We can't go back to the room after breakfast, because the staff is eager to meet us. Everyone aboard tells us how much they admire our love story and what we have done for the country, and we spend the morning taking pictures and signing autographs. These are not the same people that served us in the past; I take note no Avox works on the train anymore.
Haymitch is very solicited too, and Lana stays with him the whole time. Only Bligh is free to wander around and read the newspapers. Then we have lunch when our journey is almost over.
Once we get to the Capitol, a whole entourage is waiting to drive us to the funeral, Effie included. We almost don't recognize her without a wig. She looks pretty and younger than before.
"My poor things! It seems that you didn't sleep at all," she says to Peeta and I with tears in her eyes, "The whole thing is so upsetting, isn't it?"
She eyes Haymitch and Lana disapprovingly and says nothing to acknowledge them. She doesn't seem to like the small Avox and her demeanor makes it clear. Haymitch is talking to Plutarch Heavensbee and doesn't even realize it, but Lana, holding her husband's arm, sends her a snide glare. Is it possible that maybe Effie would have accepted Haymitch's marriage proposal after all?
The funeral is a private and quiet affair. If there are cameras, we don't see them. I don't know why Enobaria selected to be buried at the Capitol instead of district Two, but I don't care enough to ask. President Paylor is there and the vice-president too. Haymitch and Enobaria's family give eulogies. We meet her fiancé and he comes across as a decent man. People bring flowers and when the burial is over everyone leaves.
Effie, with her head now covered by a black lace veil that makes her look like a widow, has separated us from the Abernathys. "Who is that boy that never leaves the Avox's side?" she asks, pointing her chin to Bligh.
"He's Lana's translator," Peeta replies.
"Haymitch must be careful," Effie replies, "The boy looks much better than him and his wife is too young," Peeta's eyes meet mine and they sparkle in amusement, but we say nothing.
Effie breaks down when we tell her we're leaving. She says she loves us and wishes we could live closer. We miss her a lot too, although I can't exactly pinpoint why. She promises she will visit us as we say our goodbyes. She then nods to Haymitch and Lana and goes away.
After the funeral, we are offered to attend interviews, meetings, to visit cultural places and see what the Training Center has been turned into. We dismiss everyone, because we want to do our own thing for a change. So it's just us, the Abernathys and Bligh again.
The Capitol has many cars of all sizes that people call cabs. We choose one that has six seats, Haymitch sitting next to the driver and the rest of us sitting behind.
"Just drive us around like tourists," Haymitch says to the driver, "But don't make us look at the old Training Center."
"Yes, sir."
Almost everything has been rebuilt at the place where the bombings occurred; the old buildings are still as majestic as before. It doesn't look right or even orderly, because the whole thing consists in a mess of modern and old architecture meshing together. People don't look as plush and extravagant anymore. The cars look more humble now and there are lots of parks and green spaces.
There's a big, bronze stone that marks a mass grave. An inscription simply states "In Remembrance", with the date Peeta and I were badly burned, the day I lost my sister. I reckon this is where Prim has been buried with the children she was trying to save. It brings me no comfort at all, but I manage not to cry. No one else sees the mass grave.
There is a neighborhood that looks very old fashioned, almost like a picture from before the Dark Ages. The houses are majestic, with big gardens, and two or three of them seem almost like palaces.
Lana takes her seatbelt off and almost jumps from the car when we pass one of those palaces.
"Stop the car!" Bligh yells.
Lana opens the door and gets out of the cab. She throws herself to the gates of the mansion, looking intently to the garden.
We pay the driver and leave the car as well.
"What's the matter, Lana?" Peeta asks.
Lana gives him a small smile and gestures to Bligh.
"I grew up here," Bligh translates Lana, trying to get used to talk in the first person.
"Did your parents work here?" I ask.
Lana shakes her head and turns to Bligh again.
"My parents owned the house," he translates slowly, like he's afraid he's got it wrong.
Peeta's and Bligh's eyes are wide open and their mouths form an 'O' as they take a second look at the house. I can only imagine my face looks the same. From what we can see, Lana grew up almost like royalty. I think this house may be bigger and fancier than Snow's.
"Who lives here now?" Peeta asks, but no one knows the answer. Judging by the state of the garden and the coloring of the walls, it's been abandoned for years.
"Did you have Avoxes to serve you?" Bligh can't avoid asking, covering his mouth with his hand as soon as he realizes he should have been quiet.
Lana nods and smiles sadly.
Haymitch doesn't seem surprised in the least, keeping a neutral face instead. "You knew about this, Haymitch," I realize.
"Yes, I did," he shrugs matter-of-factly, "I admit I asked Plutarch to find out all about her since he owes me some favors."
Lana scowls at him and her mouth contorts in contempt. She puts her head between the golden gates, trying to see everything, but ultimately shivers and walks away when Haymitch puts his hand on her shoulder. Lana walks so quickly we have to run after her and, once we get to her, we call another cab to keep showing us around.
The car journey takes another two hours and is spent in silence, as we don't know what we are supposed to say or not say, but we can't think about anything else. We also don't want to have personal talks in front of a driver who seems stunned to have us in his car.
However, once the five of us are together in our wagon - and after my husband and I call Hazelle to inquire about our cats - Peeta asks her:
"What did Haymitch mean when he called you Milana?"
We look at her expectantly. It's only fair that Peeta asks this: he brought Lana into our lives; he has the right to know the truth from her. She purses her lips and seems divided. Haymitch takes Peeta's words to say:
"I have received some photographs of a girl named Milana Phipps that looked exactly like my wife would in her youth," he says, looking intently at Lana, "There was a man named Jack Phipps who got married to a woman named Maxine Smallwood and the two of them had four kids, Milana being the eldest. She famously died at age nineteen, the same time my wife says she became an Avox."
Lana glares at him as her hands move in nervous signs.
"She says it's not your place to investigate her life. You should have waited for her to trust you," Bligh gulps as he translates Lana, clearly expecting a big fight to ensue.
"I know, my dear," Haymitch's voice softens, "But I let you into my house, I eat the food you cook and sleep next to you, so I have the right to know if I can trust you. I'm sorry that this has been upsetting."
Lana, or Milana, I'm still not sure about it, seems to be appeased at Haymitch's sudden humility. She sits down in front of Bligh and communicates with him.
"What do you want to know?" Bligh asks Haymitch.
"I think I already know almost everything, but I want to know it from you," says Haymitch to his wife.
"I just want to know if your real name is Milana," Peeta says, "We don't want to interfere more."
Lana nods in confirmation and Peeta looks disappointed. I know what he's thinking: he brought a fraud to the lives of the people he loves; therefore, he failed us. He turns to look at me and our eyes shine in agreement: we should go to our room now. But Haymitch's wife looks heartbroken when she sees Peeta's reaction and puts her hands on our arms, as if she's begging us to stay.
This is the moment Bligh's work finally shines as he becomes Lana's voice, making it seem that he isn't there. It is a long conversation, so he translates her in the first person the whole time.
"When people were turned into Avoxes, they were declared dead and lost their right to a name. After we were freed, every Avox in Panem had to register themselves as a citizen again. I've put myself into a lot of trouble, so I didn't want to use my real name. I shortened it for Lana and adopted my mother's maiden name."
We get to know her story. Milana was the oldest of four kids, two boys and two girls. The marriage of her parents had been arranged by President Snow himself, because he was Milana's great-uncle by marriage. Snow wanted to join the prestige of the Phipps family to the wealth of the Smallwoods, since her mother was their only heir.
Growing up, President Snow doted on her and gave her everything she wanted. He only had sons and she was the only girl of the family for a long time.
"The Snows took me everywhere with them, you must have pictures of that too," Lana looks expectantly at Haymitch when Bligh says it.
Haymitch nods, "I have plenty."
Milana absolutely loved the Hunger Games when she was a child. Her father increased his net worth by starting a betting business - which later became a huge empire for itself - because everyone wanted to make bets for the Hunger Games. It was a very useful addition to Snow's propaganda machine and the importance of the Phipps family was amplified. Milana's father was a sponsor in the Games as well.
"Daddy could have sponsored the tributes that would have yielded us the most money, but no, he sponsored the tributes I liked the best."
Being fully involved in the Games, Milana wanted to meet all the tributes so that she could choose her favorite.
"We met before your Games, Haymitch. I was only nine years old and it was the first year I was there. I tried to talk to you and you scoffed at me. You were mean and arrogant."
Haymitch scoffs again, "What? I can't even remember that. My apologies if I wasn't too keen on humoring nine year olds after being given a death sentence."
Instead of getting angry, Lana smiles and nods.
"I disliked you a lot more because you were nice to that girl, Maysilee, but not to me. I made daddy sponsor anyone who could beat you, but you still won and he told me that was because you were very smart."
"At least I got approved by the father-in-law," says Haymitch with a proud grin.
"Not at all, daddy would be appalled if he ever knew I was to marry a savage like you," Bligh can't avoid a chuckle when he says it, "I would have been, too."
Her brothers, three and seven years younger than her, also wanted to choose the tributes to be sponsored but they never agreed with her. They only wanted to pick pretty girls. Because of that, Milana became the youngest sponsor ever at the age of sixteen.
"Of course I never tried to sponsor any of your tributes."
"I don't remember you at all," says Haymitch, "Those hideous wigs and make up must have hidden your pretty face."
"Maybe you were just drunk."
Milana belonged to the social elite of the Capitol. She attended balls, dinners and charity events, wore the best dresses, went to the most exclusive schools and her face was a constant in Capitol TV and magazines. She had lots of suitors too, but she wanted to do a smart choice in marriage.
She eventually found love in her second social season. The young man was handsome and kind, had a promising career, belonged to an old money family and was the sole heir to a large fortune. Both sets of parents approved the match. Milana wasn't going to inherit as much as her fiancé because she had many siblings, but someone as powerful, refined and well-connected as she was happened to be the best breeding material. When they told uncle Snow about their plans, however, he denied to give his permission to the match.
Snow wanted her to get married to the Minister of the Propaganda. The man had tried to court Milana but she had always rejected him. At uncle Snow's insistence, Milana was forced to accept the betrothal, but she was just trying to win time. One night, her boyfriend and she ran away to get married in secret. They had heard whispers about executions and torture, but they never thought Snow would let anything bad happen to Milana.
"We were caught two blocks away from my house. This is how I became an Avox."
Her chin quivers and we don't ask for details on how the physical change was processed in practice. I wonder if she was conscious when it happened.
"And the boy?" Peeta asks, breaking the silence.
Bligh doesn't have to translate her next gesture. We all get it: dead on the spot. Lana wipes the tears from her eyes.
"In retrospect, I should have known. I was too well-known to defy Snow in public and get away with it. Well, after having me turned into an Avox he knew he would lose my parents' support, that my brothers would seek revenge one day, and so all of them were killed just for that reason. They made me watch the aftermath."
Lana believes her little sister, India, was spared from the slaughter. She gestures too quickly for Bligh to follow her coherently.
"I didn't see her after the failed elopement and she wasn't killed with the rest of the family. She was too pretty and well-mannered and didn't know anything about my love life, so I've always believed she was sold for adoption. India was twelve years my junior, just seven years old at the time. Snow used her name to blackmail me once."
"We must find out what happened to India," Peeta says, to which Haymitch promptly nods.
"I've been given no information about the girl," he tells her, "I thought she was dead too, but if that's not the case I promise you I'll find her."
A flood of tears falls from Lana's eyes when she hears it. She nods and kisses her husband's hands.
For having been a sponsor in the Games, Milana wasn't put up for auction on the slave market; Snow had a better idea for her. After spending some months in the asylum for new Avoxes, where she learned sign language and submission, she was sent right to the Hunger Games Training Center. The idea was to make her feel humiliated and break. She was made to work for the entourage of district Eleven because it had been one of the districts she had never sponsored. The Capitol wanted to humiliate her further by showing her she was worth less than a tribute from Eleven.
"It would have been worse if they had put me to work for the districts I had sponsored, because at least people knew me there. But I was a very proud woman and they took my pride away all the same."
Milana tried to kill herself many times, but the Training Center had the best devices against suicide. She had been snobby and standoffish before, and sometimes she hadn't been very kind to the Avoxes at her parents' house, but the experience made her change for the better.
Milana had always wanted to be a mother. Enslaved Avoxes pursued relationships with each other and had children too, but the babies were taken away from the parents upon birth and sold into slavery. That's why she decided to never engage in a relationship. She channeled her motherly instincts to the children and teenagers at the Training Center instead, although they were never allowed to acknowledge her.
"I learned to love those children for a few days before they were taken away. It was too much to endure, everything cruel and pointless."
"But Snow saved you," Haymitch interrupts, "I know he personally visited you the day before the beginning of the imprisonment and killing of the Avoxes at the Training Center. You disappeared right after his visit."
When it became clear the old regime was about to fall, there was an order to murder all Avoxes so that there was no evidence left of crimes against human rights. It is esteemed that only ten percent of the Avox population survived the purge. Almost all of the surviving Avoxes were enslaved by families that either took pity on them or thought they could keep them as slaves. Only half a dozen Avoxes that had been employed by the state are known to still be alive.
No one survived the Training Center purge except for Lana, and that's because she left hours earlier.
"Uncle Snow didn't tell me about the purge. He gave me a bottle of venom and a mission to fulfill. And he recommended me not to fail, or the worst would happen to my sister."
As she tells us, the Minister of Propaganda, the same man who had wanted to marry her in her youth, had fallen from Snow's grace for the lack of a proper answer to the rebel's propaganda. Always cynical, Snow said nothing and pretended to be very satisfied with the man's work. As a gift for his loyalty, he offered Lana as a cook. The man was so ecstatic to receive her in his house he didn't consider it could be a trap.
"Snow said my mission was to kill the minister and then he would grant me freedom himself."
Lana knew it was a lie and Snow had no intention to ever set her free. In fact, the President had started telling his friends' families to find a way to kill their Avoxes, the minister's family included. She believes his plan was for her to poison the minister, making everyone think he had died from a stroke or heart attack, and then be killed by the minister's family. If they failed to do that, she thinks she would be hunted and shot by Peacekeepers.
While she was in the house, Lana kept the minister drunk in order to hinder his advances towards her. He still claimed he loved her after all that time, even though he was married and had 12 and 14-year-old sons. His wife had been Lana's friend in her youth, but she was extremely jealous, knew everything about the failed marriage and hated her now that she was in her house.
The Avoxes of the house were mostly nice, welcoming and kept her well fed, but she didn't have enough time to build trust with them.
One day, afraid of the scornful looks the minister's wife and her mother were giving her, she decided she had to act fast before they did something to her. So, only three days after her arrival, she poisoned everything that was edible: the cake, the tea, the water, the cookies, the coffee, everything. After she checked and made sure everyone was dead, she fled and spent her days hiding in holes and trash cans, terrified she was being hunted. She was not; Snow didn't have the necessary resources anymore. She was found in utter madness after the Capitol bombings and sent into the Mental Health Facility where she met Peeta.
"I poisoned them all. The minister, the wife, his mother-in-law, the boys and also the other Avoxes of the house. I'm not just a murderer. You had to kill to survive but you're loyal to your people. I'm not; I murdered my own kind, people who had been nice to me. I was too scared that any of the Avoxes would denounce me, and then someone would follow me or seek revenge."
She stops and eyes us, waiting for a reaction.
No one seems to know what to say. I retain she's just like us: she was never given a chance and she had to kill to survive. Her family was murdered in the process, just like Haymitch's and Peeta's. She's a survivor too. She did exactly what I would have done in her place.
Peeta is the first to hug her, and then I hug her too. Bligh squeezes her hand and nods in approval. Haymitch takes her into his arms and she hides her face in his chest.
"Plutarch couldn't get any information about you from the moment you left the Training Center," Haymitch says, playing with her long hair, "But I'm glad to know you're not loyal to Snow."
She looks at him with her eyes full of tears and shakes her head in clear disgust at the idea.
Suddenly the employees approach our group. "Watch the television!" they say, "They are talking about you." Without asking for permission, they turn up the TV and grin at us.
… one last goodbye to the victor of district Two. In attendance were district Twelve victors Haymitch Abernathy, accompanied by his new wife, and Katniss and Peeta Mellark, who made their relationship official earlier this year. It is still unclear why victors Beetee Latier, Annie Cresta and Johanna Mason didn't attend…
None of us is pleased to see our faces on national television, so we watch, mortified, as the news piece shows several close ups of all of us this morning. Lana throws herself at Haymitch and looks especially horrified.
"I'm scared to be here. I'm afraid someone will find out what I've done and I'll be imprisoned and tried and I won't be able to go home. District Twelve is where I feel safe," Bligh translates her.
"You can't be prosecuted," Haymitch tranquilizes his wife, "Those deaths happened during Snow's dictatorship, when you were an Avox. As such, the constitution we had at the time didn't grant you any rights as a citizen. If you didn't have rights, you didn't have obligations either. The law didn't apply to you at that time."
Lana eyes him with a mix of doubt and hope.
"How can you be so sure about that?" I ask. Maybe Lana is really in danger here and he's talking about things he doesn't know.
"Because," Haymitch replies, "I have a degree in Law and another in Strategy. I took them here at the Capitol when I still thought I could make a difference. Seriously, why do you think Plutarch Heavensbee chose me to head the Victor's rebellion? Because of my ability to drink?"
I blush. I always thought it was because he wanted me to be the Mockingjay, so I swallow my pride along with a glass of cold water.
Haymitch turns to Lana again. "And you call me a savage," he murmurs to her, "I never thought my little wife could be a savage too. You're a warrior, my love. I'm proud of you."
She looks almost happy, albeit tired and unsure; Haymitch picks her up in his arms and takes her to sleep.
We hear the departure announcement and the train starts moving slowly. We see the Capitol lights become more and more distant before we get into the tunnel and lose sight of them. We sigh; the day was hard, but we'll be back home in the morning.
"We could have dinner in our bedroom," says Peeta, "What do you think?"
"I'd love it," I reply.
We wave to Bligh, who will eat alone. Somehow Peeta and I walk through the corridor and into the bedroom, holding each other's hands and shaking like two teenagers about to be caught in mischief.
When we close the door behind us, the whole thing feels awkward. Stupid, actually. Here we are, two married people in a room we shared when we were younger, at a time we were scared, confused and even unsure about our survival.
But then, it didn't happen so long ago. Our lives have changed a lot, but not our years. And, despite everything else, we had happy moments here.
"I don't even know how I feel about this place," Peeta says, looking around in a daze.
I smile and take his hand to lead him to the bed. He stares at me while I get dressed in my nightgown and then I join him under the covers. We revert to our old position, my head resting on his arm, my arm covering his torso. But, unlike before, we're looking at each other the whole time.
"Do you remember the last time we slept here?" I ask him. He nods. "I'll show you what I wanted to do, can I?"
"I'll allow it," he says, smiling questioningly.
I cup his cheeks with my hand and slowly press my lips against his. His thumb rubs my chin, encouraging me to continue, and his lips respond with a sweet kiss that lasts for several minutes. When I stop I rest my head on his arm again and pull him against me.
"Oh. That would have been nice," he sighs.
I look at our reflection in the mirror that is embedded in the wall. It reminds me of the last morning we woke up together in the train. I stared at our reflection in this same mirror, checking Peeta out discreetly and admiring how good I looked in his arms. It should have embarrassed me when the reflection of his eyes caught mine, and I can recall we didn't smile or talk, but it didn't feel awkward. It actually felt warm back them, although not as warm as it feels now.
"We look so grown up now," Peeta says with a grin, meeting my eyes in the mirror and interrupting my thoughts. He remembers it too, "Also, we look happier."
"I've always wondered how it would feel like to be here with you again," I tell him, turning to look into his real eyes.
"Me too," he says, "How do you feel now that we're really here?"
"Amazing? A little bit weird, I don't know. This is so unexpected," I say, hugging him tightly, "I love you, Peeta."
Peeta gives me another of his dazzling smiles.
"I love you too, Katniss. Thank you for the life you're giving me."
His index finger raises my chin and his lips kiss mine. The kiss is sweet and it innocent overall, but I can feel the hunger in him. This is not what I was planning to do here, but I want more as well, so I deepen the kiss. He gets the hint and starts touching me before I sit to take his prosthetic leg away.
"I need my leg –" He tries to complain.
"You won't need it. I'll take care of you tonight."
I don't think I need to tell him I am the one that has always been taken care of in this room and that now it's his turn. Peeta nods and lies down peacefully, waiting for me to take the next step.
Later, when we are almost finishing what we started, someone knocks at the door. We jump like springs.
"Yes?" Peeta asks with a hoarse voice.
"Room service, sir," a man's voice replies from the other side, "Your dinner."
"One minute," Peeta cries.
He puts the leg on and hurriedly gets himself into his trousers.
"Put a shirt on," I whisper as he walks to the door bare chested, "They will know what we've been up to if they see you like that."
He smiles and puts his shirt on without complaints. I lie under the covers while my husband exchanges pleasantries with the staff and thanks them a hundred times before they get the hint and leave. Then, when they go away, Peeta shows me three tables full of food.
"This is a lot of food," he says, wide eyed, "We could feed at least five families with this."
"Come back," I reply, not at all interested in the food, "Do you think they heard anything?"
"What do you mean?"
"What we were doing before they knocked," I explain.
"Most likely, but we're married, that's supposed to happen," Peeta chuckles. I groan in embarrassment, but once he gets near I remove his clothes again, take his leg off and restart what we were doing.
After, we sit in bed eating the food from a tray.
"We lost so much time," I say, "We should have been doing this since the victory tour."
He chuckles, "I was happy with anything you wanted to give me. Being welcome to protect you from your nightmares was amazing."
"You could have made a move, still," I state.
It makes him laugh.
"Katniss," he says, "You know you would have thrown me out right away. Then where would we be now?"
He's right, of course. Nowadays I hardly think of the girl I used to be. I'm reminded of the long way I've come since then, from a distrustful person to this man's loving wife. Even in the earlier days of this marriage, not long ago, things were rocky and unsure and I couldn't be the person he deserved. We went through a lot before I could mature into someone who can accept love. I'll never be perfect, but I believe I am a good spouse now.
Peeta, on the other hand, has always known what he wanted and is starting to flourish into the man I always knew he could be, maybe because he's being taken care of for the first time. He seems so sure of his place in life now. Gone is the boy who said no one needed him; he knows I do. His confidence is now increasing and he doesn't second-guess things or question my feelings anymore. I think he can even come to get rid of his flashbacks one day.
I look at him and wonder where his mother found the will and guts to beat this boy. Or why I ever thought it was a good idea to show him the taste of rejection. Thinking about it, with the painful awareness that much of that rejection happened on this train, I can't help myself from latching to his body and not let go.
Thankfully, the train is slower at night so that the passengers can get a good night's rest, and for that reason we have a lot of time to stay together. It's late when we finally fall asleep, my head resting on his arm.
We take a bubble bath in the morning and ask for our breakfast to be delivered to the bedroom. Then the train stops, we get dressed and ready to leave and wait for the staff to fetch our suitcases.
Someone knocks and doesn't wait for us to open the door before they speak, "We've just arrived at your destination," they say.
There's only one strange detail. It's not the station at district Twelve that we see through the windows. We see palm trees and deep blue sea. There has been a mistake. So we open the door to find the same employee that welcomed us into this room the day before. He looks happy when he announces:
"Sir, ma'am… Welcome to district Four."