CHAPTER 2. The Parade
The town square was completely bare by the time Katniss left the Justice Building. It had taken a little over an hour for the cleanup crew to remove all evidence of the reaping. The ceremony was over. Everyone wanted to forget.
Her feet moved silently along the uneven pavement. She felt numb.
She walked through the town square and sat on a bench across the street from the bakery. A long line of customers spilled out through the open door. She crossed her arms over her chest and snorted, annoyed by the overwhelming need for baked goods which had apparently taken over the district.
She couldn't believe the gall of some people! Flooding the bakery just so they could catch a glimpse of a grieving family!
Her eyes wandered to the side of the building. The beautifully decorated cakes her sister always admired were still on display.
She had wanted to get one for Prim, a special treat to celebrate a special milestone -surviving a reaping was important when you lived in the Seam- but she didn't have enough coins to pay for it, and she didn't want to bother Mr. Mellark with her trade.
She wasn't ready to go home yet. So, she sat under the scorching sun and tried to collect her thoughts.
She knew Peeta had seen her. She was certain he had understood what she'd been trying to tell him -the way he'd changed, right in front of her eyes, spoke to that- but when all was said and done, would a new attitude be enough?
He wasn't going away on vacation, he was being sent into an arena where he would have to fight for his life.
Her heart sank as she realized he would be expected to kill, or at least outlive, 23 other people.
Her stubborn mind refused to believe she would never see him again, but she knew the odds weren't exactly in his favor.
For the second time that day she kept still, watching the world move around her.
People came and went about their business. Those who left the bakery tried to look solemn as they clutched their small parcels, wrapped in brown paper, with anxious fingers. But she could see relieved smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths.
She couldn't blame them for being pleased. No one wanted their child to be chosen for the Games.
With a heavy heart, she stood up and made her way back home.
Most houses were empty by the time she reached the Seam. Miners didn't have many chances to spend a summer day outdoors, and they relished the opportunity to head out into the Meadow. They liked to spend the day basking in the sun, enjoying the feeling of being alive.
Seam families never had much, but summer was always plentiful and, for one night, they'd share whatever they could spare with their friends and neighbors. Bonfires were lit as soon as the sun went down, and small string instruments and flutes were fished from their hiding places. Music, song and joyous laughter would ring across the open field all through the night.
A couple of families were always absent from the celebration. Those whose children had been selected to appease what Gale called "the central government's thirst for blood." They would stay home, with the shutters closed and try to block the world outside.
They didn't blame everyone else for celebrating. Everyone knew how close they all were to being selected, how narrow their escape was each year. But, for a few hours, the lucky ones were allowed to forget.
Katniss was grateful for the silence that greeted her as she stepped into the cool refuge of her empty house.
Soft specks of dust danced in the sunlight. Something about the way they floated around the room reminded her of dandelion spores flying through the air, blown away into a carelessly placed wish. "Hope with wings," Prim always called them.
Katniss's eyes filled with tears. Dandelions were weeds. Nutritious and tasty even, but they were fragile and could easily be destroyed.
Wishes and hope were dangerous things. They created expectations; they made people believe in things that were beyond their reach.
Life had taught her to be practical and realistic. Why was she having such a hard time accepting what had happened earlier in the day? What was it about Peeta Mellark that blinded her judgment and made her so stubborn? She had known tributes before. Why was this year any different?
She knew why.
Fat tears fell freely down her cheeks, and she sighed dejectedly. Her quiet whimpers were soon replaced by loud choking sounds as she sobbed without control.
She crumbled to the floor, finally crushed by the weight of the guilt she'd been carrying on her shoulders since Peeta had given her that bread.
She had never wanted a dandelion wish so much in her life.
Eventually, the sobbing stopped.
Katniss stood up and walked towards the bathroom on unsteady feet. Her mother and Prim would be back soon. She didn't want to greet them with a tear-streaked face and a nose full of snot.
By the time her family came home, Katniss had regained her composure, but her eyes were still puffy from all the crying she'd done before.
Prim was the first one to arrive. Her curious eyes had examined her sister before she asked, "How did it go? Did you get there on time?"
Katniss's mouth went dry. She wasn't ready to talk about her visit to the Justice Building, but she knew Prim wasn't going to let the matter drop.
She quickly explained about the visiting times being taken, and then she added, "Well, at least I saw them when they left for the train station."
"That's better than nothing!" Prim declared with a cheerful smile that was so contagious Katniss had no choice but to return it.
She'd never been more grateful for her sister's optimism.
The rest of the day flew by. Katniss spent the afternoon working around the house. She helped her mother organize her medicinal herbs, and she carried buckets full of water to wash Prim's goat. She also cleaned and gutted the fish she'd caught earlier in the day.
No one mentioned the town square, the Justice Building, or the reaping again.
The somber mood that had wrapped their small home in the early hours of the morning seemed to evaporate as the three women finished their chores. Prim's excitement over surviving her first reaping was infectious, and Katniss lost herself in her sister's happiness.
But, once she turned the lights turned off, emptiness crept in, enveloping her in a tight grip.
She tried burrowing under the covers and holding Prim tightly against her chest. But the small girl wiggled out of her grasp and issued a sleepy complaint. Summertime wasn't the season for cuddling, after all.
The dark night dragged on. Katniss didn't sleep a wink.
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Katniss stood on the far corner of the town square. She closed her eyes and tried to block the world around her as she willed her body to relax.
She had spent the better part of the day running around the woods, collecting berries, cleaning snares, and setting up traps under an unforgiving midday sun. Her lower back ached, her feet were sore, and she could feel a blister forming on her left thumb. She was exhausted.
The last 30 hours of her life had passed in a blur of conflicting emotions.
The relief she usually felt after a reaping had quickly been replaced by dread when she'd heard Effie Trinket's shrill voice calling Peeta Mellark up onto the stage. It seemed like the world hadn't stopped spinning since then.
Gale's raspy voice startled her. "So, Catnip, ready to watch the show?"
She opened her eyes, surprised by the softness of his tone, and briefly wondered why he'd suddenly decided to coddle her. It wasn't like him to treat her with such care. Gale was usually blunt and clear. That was something she'd always appreciated, knowing that she could always get a straight answer from him.
She didn't really care for this side of him, she realized. It made her feel small and fragile. It annoyed her.
She crossed her arms and huffed. "Not particularly, no."
Beside her, Gale nodded.
She turned to look at him. Fresh haircut, clean shave, and new clothes. Miner's clothes.
There was a reason why she'd spent all day running around the woods on her own.
Gale was 18. There would be no more reapings for him and no more school. No more traipsing through the woods until nightfall either.
The only thing he had to look forward to was a future of endless days, trapped underground, as he toiled to extract dirty coal from the district's deepest mines. Her heart ached for him.
"How was your first day?" she asked.
"It was all right."
He was looking straight ahead, but she knew he wasn't looking at the giant screens which had been set up against the facade of the Justice Building.
She followed his gaze. His eyes were locked on the small patch of trees that grew behind the town square. A wistful smile curved his lips.
It had only been one day, but she could already feel her hunting partner slipping away. How was he going to survive, stuck inside those dark tunnels, day after day?
His voice brought her back. "So, how are you? Everything ok?"
There it was, that concerned tone again. Katniss ignored it, choosing to focus on more practical matters instead.
"Sure," she nodded. "I collected everything, and I reset your snares. I even had time to stop by the Hob and trade a couple of things. I've left your share over at my place. You can pick it up when we're done here."
"Good. Good." Gale scanned the square. "Looks like there's a good turnout tonight."
She looked around. He was right. It was almost as full as it had been the previous day. It made sense, people usually preferred to watch the tribute parade out on the open. It gave them a chance to breathe some fresh air. Nobody wanted to be stuck inside a small house during a muggy summer night if they could help it.
Besides, it was easier to forget that you were being forced to watch 24 children being presented, like lambs to the slaughter, to the Capitol crowds if you were surrounded by your neighbors and friends.
The regulations from the central government stipulated that certain portions of the broadcast of the Hunger Games were mandatory. People were expected to follow these televised reports either from home or from the screens that had been set up in the town's central square.
Most of the coverage of the Games was transmitted over a live feed, but no one was expected to watch them in their entirety. People had to work, after all.
Nighttime shows were a different story, though. They were never optional. Most of the times they were no more than recaps of what had happened inside the arena during the day. But there were times when they aired a special show, produced exclusively for the occasion. The tribute parade was one of those shows, it was also the official start of each year's Games. The selected tributes from all twelve districts were presented to the Capitol for the first time during the televised ceremony.
Some people actually enjoyed this broadcast. Watching the tributes from the richest districts as they traversed along the Capitol's city circle was quite a spectacle. They always looked beautiful, brave and powerful as they rode in front of Panem's elite on horse-drawn chariots, their chests covered with plates of gold adorned with precious stones. Their eyes were bright, their smiles wide, and their skin always had the rosy glow of those who haven't missed a single meal.
Compared to them the tributes from District 12 usually looked like dung beetles. Small, dark, and forgettable.
Katniss raised to the tips of her toes and craned her neck to get a better look at the open space.
There were a few peacekeepers, walking along the lines of people who had assembled to watch the show. She knew they were conducting a head count. They always kept track of the population during mandatory viewing times. A few others were stationed along the sides of the square, keeping everyone locked in place.
Her eyes landed on her mother and Prim. They were standing on the left side of the square, talking to Mrs. Asbury and her youngest daughter, Penny.
Katniss smiled at the sight of the two young girls. They looked like a couple of conspirators, with arms linked and heads bent down, deeply involved in some private conversation. It might have been worrisome, except for the subtle, but constant, movement of their shoulders, a telltale sign of their incessant giggling.
Her eyes wandered to the other side of the square. She found Mrs. Mellark and the rest of Peeta's family standing next to Mayor Undersee and his wife.
Madge was there too. Standing next to Bran, Peeta's oldest brother. Katniss saw her friend nod as the blond man whispered something in her ear.
Katniss frowned, puzzled.
Madge had never mentioned Bran or any of the Mellarks for that matter, and still, there she was, hobnobbing with them.
"Looks like your townie friend is very chummy with the baker's son," Gale's words echoed her thoughts.
Something about his tone rubbed her the wrong way, though.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "She's not chummy with him, they're just talking. Why do you have to make it sound like they're doing something wrong? Mr. Mellark and the mayor are probably friends."
That made perfect sense. They were roughly the same age, and they were practically neighbors. She wouldn't be surprised if the mayor were one of the bakery's best customers.
"Ok, settle down, " Gale soothed, "you're probably right."
Katniss huffed. Satisfied with her small victory.
But there was a nagging uneasiness at the pit of her stomach. As good as her arguments were, they didn't really explain why quiet, reserved Madge seemed so familiar with Bran; or why she'd visited Peeta's room the previous day.
The grandiose timbre of fanfare, blaring through enormous loudspeakers, snapped her out of her thoughts.
The show was about to begin.
Silence fell over the square as the light from the lampposts which surrounded it was dimmed.
The large screens flickered to life, projecting Panem's official seal. After a few seconds, the image was replaced by a sweeping shot of the Capitol's city circle.
The crowd in District 12 kept their eyes trained on the screens as Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith, the perpetual anchors for the Hunger Games, blathered on, discussing past games, new trends, and the latest fashion choices in the Capitol.
Katniss blocked out most of their commentary. She didn't care about Capitol celebrities and whether they wore pink or yellow wigs when they went out for coffee with their friends.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Caesar Flickerman's announcement boomed through loudspeakers all over Panem. "This is the moment we've all been waiting for. Let the 74th tribute parade commence!"
The sound of fanfare filled the air once more as District 1's chariot, pulled by two magnificent horses, showed up on the screen.
Katniss began twisting the end of her braid around her finger, a nervous tic she'd never been able to control.
The Capitol crowds cheered and clapped as the lavishly adorned tributes made their first appearance.
A sense of dread wrapped around Katniss's small frame at the sight of them. The boy was tall and robust, and the girl looked gorgeous and self-assured as she smiled seductively and waved at the audience.
The second chariot was not much better.
The massive blond boy from District 2 smiled smugly. The icy glare from his blue eyes sent a shiver down Katniss's spine. His female district partner was a bit smaller, but she looked just as scary standing firmly by his side. A vicious sneer turned her lips.
"Wow! Wouldn't want to run into her in a dark alley," Gale whispered. "She looks positively bloodthirsty."
Katniss nodded, her heart pattered anxiously. How is Peeta going to deal with these four beasts?
Minutes went by as chariot after chariot glided across the screen. Some tributes looked confident and brawny while others looked small and weak.
The girl from 3 shook like an autumn leaf inside her chariot. She was so unsteady that Katniss was surprised she didn't fall off of her vehicle.
The boy from District 4 reminded her of the famous victor Finnick Odair, with his bronze curls and piercing green eyes. According to Caesar Flickerman, though, the tribute and his handsome mentor weren't related.
The girl from District 5 immediately caught Katniss's attention. She had a shock of red hair, a pointed nose, and beady eyes.
"She looks like a fox, doesn't she?" she asked her hunting partner.
Gale squinted at the screen. "Uh, a little maybe. The way she's looking at everything around her… it's like she's studying her surroundings. She looks smart."
Katniss agreed.
The tributes from District 8 showed up covered in thick quilts made from a patchwork of different fabrics. They looked like they had just gotten out of bed.
Katniss rolled her eyes. "Some stylists aren't even trying. Who's going to take these guys seriously?"
"Too bad they won't be carrying those quilts into the arena, though. They look warm and comfy. And you know what Caesar always says, 'a good night's sleep is often times a decisive factor when it comes to a showdown between tributes,'" Gale quipped.
Katniss twisted the end of her braid around her finger in a futile attempt to distract herself from the anxiety that coursed through her veins. District 8 wasn't one of the richest districts, but it wasn't as poor as Twelve. Their tributes usually managed to get a few sponsors who sent them gifts and helped them survive in the arena. But this year's stylists seemed to have given up on their tributes.
If District 8 was discouraged, what could she expect from Twelve; the poorest district in the country, a district that had only won the Games twice in 73 years.
District 11's chariot filled the screen. Katniss's heart sank.
Tears welled behind her eyelids as she watched a solid, imposing boy towering over the small, slender girl who stood on shaky legs by his side.
The brief flash of concern which crossed the giant's eyes as he looked at his young partner made her want to scream.
"She's so young!" she hissed. "She looks just like Prim!"
"She looks nothing like Prim!" Gale countered.
"Her hair and skin tone are different but…look at her!" Katniss pointed towards the screen, "she can't be much older than my sister. And those thin arms… she's like a small bird."
Gale nodded. "Standing next to that mountain of a man isn't helping her case either. Did you see the size of his hands?"
Katniss swallowed thickly through the lump that had settled in her throat. District 12 was up next.
Night had already fallen on the town square when a warm, flickering light appeared on the screen. At first, it was small, like the spark of a match, but it kept moving, looking progressively bigger as it approached its audience.
Katniss watched as it grew from the soft flame of a candle to the mighty blast of a bonfire.
The audience gasped in terror when they saw the angry ball of fire coming towards them.
Suddenly, the smoke surrounding the blazing chariot cleared and Peeta and Tessa appeared, completely unharmed, in front of the roaring fire.
Both tributes were covered in black jumpsuits that reflected the flames which sparked from the capes at their backs.
Katniss smiled relieved at the sight of them. Unlike other tributes, they didn't seem to be wearing any makeup.
Tessa's gray Seam eyes shone reflecting the flames that surrounded her petite frame. She reminded Katniss of the mine fairies her father used to tell her about when she was younger.
The sight of Peeta made her knees buckle.
He was the same boy she knew, only better. His cheeks were slightly flushed. His ocean blue eyes shone brightly as he pointed them directly towards the camera and the carefully styled waves of blond hair that fell over his forehead shone like polished gold.
She itched to run her fingers through them.
Surprised by the thought, she clasped her hands tightly to her chest. She didn't pull her eyes away from the screen, though. She didn't want to miss a single moment.
District 12's chariot kept moving across the central avenue.
The Capitol audiences went mad with excitement. Their surprised screams and cheers at the sight of the flaming chariot resounded all over the country.
Caesar and Claudius couldn't hide their admiration. They babbled incessantly, trying to remember if they'd ever seen anything like it before. Apparently, they hadn't.
Through it all, Tessa and Peeta smiled and waved.
Gale's question brought Katniss out of her trance. "Are they holding hands?"
Her eyes traveled along Peeta's right arm. Yes, they are.
Katniss frantically searched her mind trying to find an explanation. It wasn't common for tributes to hold hands. Ever. Even when the careers established alliances, they were never friends. They never touched each other.
A sudden thought filled her mind pushing the air out of her lungs. Are Peeta and Tessa friends?
Her heart raced as she tried to recall everything she knew about Tessa Monroe. She wasn't surprised to discover it wasn't much. Other than seeing her around school and at the Seam sometimes she'd had no contact with her.
She trained her eyes on the ground and tried to focus on what she remembered from the reaping ceremony the previous day.
Tessa's stance came to her mind, stiff and formal as she shook Peeta's hand. There had been nothing friendly about the exchange.
Katniss sighed. Either Tessa was the best actress in 12, or she had never spoken to Peeta Mellark in her life.
The second option seemed more likely.
Katniss's heart slowed down as she relaxed. Straightening up, she turned towards Gale who was eyeing her curiously. "You alright there, Catnip?"
"Yeah. I don't think they're friends," she declared.
"What?"
"Tessa and Peeta," she said, turning to face the screen once more. "I don't know why they're holding hands, but they're not friends."
"Oh, I didn't think they were. Merchant boys rarely befriend Seam girls. Especially when they're as young as Tessa here," His tone turned somber. "Not much chance for funny business there."
A burst of hot anger exploded inside her chest. "Gale!" she reprimanded.
"What?"
"Peeta's not like that!" she protested. Her nails dug into the skin of her clasped hands, and she glared at her friend, challenging him to say one more word.
Her hunting partner stood still, evidently surprised by her sudden outburst, and looked at her through narrowed eyes.
She knew that look, she had seen it often enough when they were out in the woods. He thought something was wrong and he was trying to figure out what it was.
Well, she wasn't sure of what was happening herself, and she was in no mood to be analyzed by someone else, so she directed all the anger she was feeling towards her friend and hoped he'd get the message.
He did.
After a moment, he shook his head raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Fine. Forget I said anything," Gale grumbled.
Satisfied, Katniss nodded and turned to face the screen once more.
All the chariots had reached the front of the president's mansion. They were assembled in a semicircle, facing the podium President Snow would use to address the country.
The camera moved along the row of tributes, giving a quick overview of every chariot. Once it reached the end of the semicircle, it stopped, focusing on District 12's vehicle.
Tessa and Peeta's faces filled the screens, flames still danced behind their backs making them glow against the darkened sky.
Katniss's heart skipped a beat. There, reflected on the enormous screen, displayed for the whole world to see, was a round bird-shaped pin.
The golden brooch flickered brightly on Peeta's lapel, reflecting the tongues of fire dancing behind Tessa's back.
Gale's voice broke the spell, "Is that-,"
"Madge's pin."
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AN. I want to thank the lovely AlwaysEverlark for the beautiful banner she made for this story.
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The Hunger Games Trilogy is the property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.