CHAPTER 12. The Village.
Pale sunbeams streamed through the frayed curtains in Katniss's room. Like delicate tendrils, they touched the floating specks of dust which danced in the morning stillness making them shine.
Exhausted after a restless night, Katniss turned to her side. Her bed creaked under her weight, echoing her tired grumble.
Her arms and legs felt heavy after spending all night in bed, but her limber mind was fully awake. Like a broken record, she kept hearing Gale's words banging against her skull. He might be our man. He might be our man. He might...
Katniss let out a tired sigh. She knew Gale wasn't the only person who wanted to change the way things were. For years she had suspected there were others like him in District 12 and beyond. Living conditions in the poorer districts were so dire than anything else was unthinkable. But, no matter what he said, she couldn't believe the disgruntled miners of Twelve and the oppressed laborers of Panem were expecting Peeta to free them.
She could see how Peeta's actions in the arena might have given them hope of a unified Panem -a country where all the districts worked in harmony without the Capitol's oppressive interference. But she was fairly certain that Peeta had only acted out of a need to survive, not a desire to free anyone from their chains.
The truth was that she just couldn't fathom the notion of Peeta doing any of it on purpose because, at the end of the day, he was nothing more than a merchant's son from District 12. What did he know about life out of his own district? How could he speak for the overburdened masses of Panem when he hadn't experienced the misery and hopelessness which permeated a coal miner's life?
Peeta was kind and decent, but he'd never had to worry about his father coming back home at the end of the day. He didn't know what it was like to live with the dismal prospect of spending a lifetime trapped inside a mine shaft hanging over his head. He probably doesn't even know what a hollow day is, she thought.
The sound of soft footfalls on the kitchen's tiled floor snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Happy new year," she grumbled to herself as she sat up pushing her covers away.
XXXXX
Prim brought the steaming mug of mint tea up to her lips and blew on it. "Got any plans for today?" she asked.
Katniss stared at her own mug and shrugged. The first day of the year was one of the few public holidays they had. The school, the mines, and all the shops in town were closed for the day. Even the vendors from the Hob took the day off to be with their loved ones.
She had tried going out to the woods with Gale once. But it was the dead of winter, and they hadn't caught much. By the time they'd made it back into the district, tired and chilled to the bone, they hadn't found anyone who was willing to trade.
In the end, they had decided it wasn't worth the trouble and had just stayed at home with their families after that.
Feeling restless after a sleepless night, Katniss wasn't looking forward to being trapped in her house all day. "I think I'll go to Victors' Village," she answered, coming up with a plan on the spot.
Prim straightened in her seat. "Got anything to trade?"
Katniss shook her head. "I want to show Peeta the plant book."
Prim's blue eyes twinkled in excitement. "Can I come?"
Every single muscle in Katniss's body stiffened. She could hear the anxious patter of her heart ringing in her ears. "He might not even be there," she blurted, "he doesn't know I'm coming."
Apparently unaware of her sister's discomfort, Prim took a cautious sip of her tea. "Well, if he's not there we'll just come back. It'll be a nice walk."
Katniss pursed her lips. She couldn't explain this sudden need to keep her visits to Victors' Village to herself or this possessiveness she felt over Peeta. It was almost like she didn't want to share him with the world.
Taking a sip of her tea, Katniss told herself that she wasn't being rational. Prim's curiosity was perfectly natural. Especially since she knew about the greenhouse and about Peeta's…
Katniss's mouth went dry. She glanced over her shoulder, anxiously searching for her mother.
The sound of the floorboards creaking under Mrs. Everdeen's rocking chair told her she was in the next room; probably too busy mending socks to pay any attention to her daughters' conversation.
Leaning over the table towards her sister, Katniss warned, "You can come with me, but only if you promise you won't say anything about the bread."
Prim's face turned serious. "I thought you said you had already settled it with him?"
"I did," Katniss whispered. "I just don't want to make him uncomfortable. Alright?"
Prim considered her sister's words for a moment and then nodded. "Ok, I won't say anything. I promise."
XXXXX
Katniss and Prim walked in comfortable silence. Bundled in their warmest coats, they crisscrossed the streets of the Seam until they reached the unpaved road which led to the Victors' Village and the forest beyond.
They kept going. Accompanied by the soft crunch of freshly fallen snow under their feet as they traveled down the lonely road which led up to Peeta's house.
"Wow!" Prim exclaimed as soon as they reached the impressive wrought iron gates which separated the Village from the rest of the district. "It's kind of scary, isn't it? With all these empty houses?"
Katniss nodded. Compared to the Seam, with its constant hustle and bustle, the opulent hamlet felt like a ghost town.
With a practiced flick of her wrist, Katniss opened the massive gate and motioned for her sister to go through. "Watch your step," she instructed pointing at the icy road ahead.
Hand in hand, the sisters reached Peeta's house.
"It's beautiful!" Prim exclaimed. Her blue eyes, bright under the winter sun, were wide as saucers as she took in the victor's house. Unlike the others, this one seemed cozy and inviting with an enormous festive wreath hanging on the front door, and a few poinsettias placed along the veranda.
Pointing to the warm light spilling from the windows, Prim said, "Looks like he's home."
"Let's go around to the back," Katniss instructed.
"The back?"
"Yeah. Peeta spends most of his time in the backyard or in his study. He asked me to knock on the kitchen door when I come by. It's closer."
Following her sister, Prim asked, "Have you seen his paintings? They did a whole show on them on Capitol radio. They say they're amazing."
Katniss shook her head. "I've never been in his study." They had almost reached the back door when Katniss stopped short. Turning to look at Prim, she said, "Remember, Little Duck, don't mention the bread, OK?"
Wounded by her sister's apparent lack of trust, Prim narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I know, Katniss. I haven't forgotten."
Relieved, Katniss nodded. "Good." She was about to start walking again when a new idea popped into her head. "And maybe don't mention any of those Capitol radio shows either," she added.
"Fine," Prim huffed. "Maybe I'll just go in and stand there like a mute."
Katniss chuckled. Prim was almost 13, she was still sweet and good-natured, but it was becoming increasingly harder to tell her what to do without getting some kind of retort.
"There are plenty of things you can talk about, Prim," she soothed, "no need to turn into a mute."
The girls reached the back door.
Katniss pulled off one of her mittens. She was about to rap her knuckles against the windowpane when a haunting melody floated through the open window and kissed her ears.
Katniss froze. She recognized the tune -it was one of the songs her father sung when they went to the woods. "Hear that?" she asked her sister.
Prim nodded.
Katniss opened her mouth to tell Prim about their dad and the song when a new thought flashed through her mind. This can't be coming from the radio.
Noticing Katniss's frozen stance, Prim asked, "Something wrong?"
"I think he's not alone," Katniss whispered.
Standing on the tips of her toes, Prim tried to sneak a peek through the small window on the top of the door. "Maybe we could-,"
The music stopped.
Stealthily, Prim moved away from the door.
For a few seconds, the world was quiet. Katniss bit her lip as she anxiously considered what to do.
She was about to grab her sister, turn around, and forget about the whole nonsensical adventure when the sound of resounding footsteps approaching the kitchen shattered the silence.
Peeta's cheerful voice soon followed. "That was great, Madge! You've really improved!"
Katniss sighed, her warm breath turned into a white puffy cloud as it mixed with the chilly air. "It's just Madge!" she told Prim. Without even thinking, she raped her usual tune on the windowsill.
"Katniss?" Peeta called from inside the house.
Peering through the side window, where she knew he would see her, Katniss waved.
The door swung open. "Hi!" Peeta greeted. He was wearing dark corduroy trousers and the maroon sweater Katniss liked so much. His blond hair had been carefully styled, but not in the exaggerated way the Capitol favored.
"What a nice surprise!" he said. "I wasn't expecting you today."
"Well, I had the day off, and I thought…" Katniss shrugged, suddenly aware of the fact that she was basically barging into Peeta's house. Fighting the blush she felt creeping up her cheeks, she said, "But maybe we should go. You've got company, and I don't-,"
"Stop!" Peeta interrupted, waving away her offer and smiling like he was overjoyed by the sudden intrusion. "It's only Madge. Our families don't do anything special today, and she dropped in for a visit. We'll be happy to have you." Tilting his head towards Prim, he added, "Besides, you're not alone. How could I possibly turn your sister away?"
Katniss's face lit up at his words.
Stepping back, Peeta motioned for them to come in.
Following Peeta's invitation, Katniss began to move, but Prim stood still, rooted to her spot and blocking her path.
Disconcerted, Katniss turned to look at her sister, her bright blue eyes were practically popping out of her face, and her cheeks had turned crimson.
"Come on, Little Duck," Katniss urged.
Like a robot that's processing information, Prim jerkily bobbed her head. The soft pressure of Katniss's gentle hand on her back finally got her moving.
"Hello, Miss Everdeen, welcome to my home," Peeta said warmly as the young girl walked past.
"Hi," Prim croaked, smiling politely -if somewhat stiffly- at him.
Peeta smiled back, completely unruffled by Prim's strange demeanor.
Katniss rolled her eyes, absently wondering what those Capitol broadcasts had been saying about Peeta to have her sister so flustered.
Madge walked into the kitchen. "Happy new year!" she exclaimed.
"Happy new year, Madge," the Everdeen sisters answered in unison.
"Why don't you sit down," Peeta suggested pointing to the kitchen table. "Madge and I were about to have some tea. Would you like some?"
Prim nodded, and Katniss answered for both of them, "Yes, thank you."
Peeta got to work, quickly filling the kettle and placing teacups and saucers on a tray. Meanwhile, his guests pulled out their chairs and sat down.
A companionable silence settled in the room as Peeta measured tea leaves and waited for the water to boil.
"Was that you playing just now?" Prim asked the mayor's daughter. To Katniss's relief, she already sounded more like her usual self and less like a croaky toad.
Madge nodded. "I was trying out Peeta's piano."
"You have a piano?" Katniss blurted out. She didn't remember seeing it on her first visit to the house, but then again, she hadn't really gone into any of the rooms.
From his place by the stove, Peeta shrugged. His cheeks were tinted a pretty pink as he sheepishly explained, "It came with the house."
There was a short beep.
Forgetting about the tea for a moment, Peeta walked to the oven and opened the door. The mouthwatering smell of freshly baked bread and melted cheese filled the air.
"Are those cheese buns?" Prim asked craning her head towards the smell.
"They are," Peeta said, turning to show her a baking tray full of golden bread rolls. "Do you like them?"
Prim nodded. Her eyes twinkled happily as she added, "I do! But I practically had to gobble mine up the other day, Katniss almost snatched it right out of my hand!"
"Prim!" Katniss hissed.
"Well, it's true," Prim answered, all shyness forgotten, "I saw the way you kept looking at it."
Madge's amused chuckle broke the sisters' argument. Looking at Peeta, she asked, "They're your grandmother's recipe. Right, Peeta?"
At the sound of his name, Peeta blinked a couple of times. His mind raced frantically as he tried to recall his cousin's words. A heartbeat later, he answered, "Uh, yeah. She always made these for Bran's birthday."
Later, as they all sat around the table enjoying their tea and pastries, Madge shyly asked, "I've always wondered. What's it like out there?"
"Beyond the fence?" Prim asked.
Lifting her teacup to her lips, Madge confirmed, "Mm-hmm."
Katniss tipped her head and studied her friend for a moment. Not for the first time, she thought that, for two people who spent so much time together, she and Madge knew very little about each other.
"It's beautiful," Prim answered, breaking into her sister's thoughts. "But it's kind of scary too."
Peeta's surprised eyes landed on Prim. "You go out there?"
Prim shook her head. "Not regularly, but I've been there sometimes. Mostly I just stick to the edge of the woods and gather stuff. I don't go all the way in like Katniss does."
Taking a bite out of her cheese bun, Madge said, "So, I guess I'm the only one who's never been there, then."
"I've never been there either," Peeta corrected her.
"Well, no," Madge conceded. In her silence, Katniss sensed her unspoken words. Peeta's arena wasn't that different from the woods surrounding District 12.
Peeta's eyes clouded over, and he looked away. Katniss could almost see the heavy veil of sadness which fell over his shoulders.
Suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to reach out and comfort him, Katniss asked, "How did you know what to eat and what to leave?" It probably wasn't the right question -or the right time to ask it- but it was something she'd always wondered about, and she was desperate to pull him out of his thoughts.
Peeta looked up at her, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"
"In the arena," Katniss clarified. "You examined everything carefully. You never ate anything you didn't recognize. How did you know what was safe and what wasn't? Most people in District 12 wouldn't have known the difference."
Peeta leaned back in his chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, "It was the training center. They don't actually tell you where you're going to or what kind of arena is waiting for you, but the learning stations change each year and they teach you tons of useful things. Most people focus on the athletic stations, but the survival sessions are just as important."
"So, someone at the training center taught you how to recognize edible plants from poisonous ones?" Prim asked.
"Yeah, pretty much. The trainers gave me a list of things to avoid and a couple of rules to follow with plants I didn't recognize," he explained.
Peeta's eyes found his cousin's. Madge had stopped eating as she attentively followed the conversation.
A small smile curved Peeta's lips. "The one thing I enjoyed was the quiet. It's not like when you're in town where there's always some background noise. A dog barking, a mother yelling, children laughing. But it's not completely silent either; there's the rustling of leaves in the wind, the trickle of water in the stream, the flap of bird's wings. It's alive, always changing. It surrounds you. And the air is fresher, cleaner, sweeter."
Enraptured, Katniss listened to Peeta's words. Somewhere, deep inside her chest, a new dream blossomed, and she saw herself sitting by her father's lake with Peeta by her side, their hands intertwined, and their shoulders pressed together as they watched the sun setting in the sky.
Madge's question brought her back to reality. "Who taught you, Katniss? How do you know what's edible and what isn't?"
Shaking her head to gather her bearings, Katniss answered, "My father." Clearing her throat, she added, "He taught me most things. I think he learned them from his dad."
"And there's also our book," Prim proudly piped in.
"The one from the apothecary?" Peeta asked.
"Yeah. Would you like to see it, Madge?" Prim offered.
Madge's eyes lit up. "I'd love to!"
At her sister's nod, Prim stood up from her seat and reached for the tote bag hanging from Katniss's chair. Carefully, she pulled out the worn book and went to stand between Madge and Peeta. Placing it on the table in front of them, she explained, "This book has been in our family for generations. Many of the secrets of the apothecary are here." Her fingers traced loving circles over the faded cover. "Mom and dad met because of this book. Right, Katniss?"
Katniss nodded. "She used the book to show him which plants to gather."
"Your father traded at the apothecary?" Madge asked.
"Mm-hmm. He traded with lots of merchants, some of them are still my customers." Katniss looked at Peeta; he was leaning forward, his elbows rested on the tabletop as he hung to her every word. "Like your Dad."
Peeta smiled. He looked like he was about to say something when Madge spoke again. "I've always wondered about that," she said.
"About what?" Prim asked.
"Well…" Madge took a sip of her tea. "I remember my mother telling me a story once. I think Lilian was supposed to marry my uncle, Terry."
Prim's eyes narrowed. "Lilian? You mean my mom?" Madge nodded. "What do you mean she was supposed to marry your uncle?"
"That's what my mom said," Madge recalled. "I think it was one of those typical merchant arrangements. They were practically the same age, and they got along well. But then your dad came along, and Lilian left everything to go to the Seam."
Prim's eyes turned pensive. Lilian never said much about her life in town, and the girls never asked. Somehow, it seemed pointless and cruel, but that didn't mean they didn't wonder about it sometimes. "What happened to your uncle?"
Peeta's soft whisper fell like a bucket of ice-cold water over the Everdeen girls. "He married my mom."
"What?" the sisters exclaimed in unison.
Peeta chuckled at their reaction. For the most part, Katniss and her sister looked nothing alike but watching their expressions and their manners no one could deny their bond.
"Yeah, he told me the story once when I was little. He said he wanted to marry your mom but that she'd chosen a miner instead." Looking straight at Katniss, he added, "He also said that your dad had such a beautiful voice that, when he sang, even the birds stopped to listen."
Tears polled in Katniss's eyes at the mention of her father's voice. Years after his death it was still one of the things she remembered the most about him. Breaking eye-contact with Peeta, she blinked her tears away.
"Oh!" Prim exclaimed bringing her hand to her forehead. "Remember what Mom said, Katniss?"
Katniss shook her head.
"Yeah," Prim insisted. "She said that she used to bake cookies with Peeta's dad and his sister. Remember?"
Katniss's mind raced back to the previous summer and the moments they'd shared huddled in front of the television. She could still see the image of Peeta lighting a fire in the arena and hear her mother's voice as she explained what she knew about the bakery and its ovens.
Before Katniss could say anything, Prim went on, "She also mentioned other people. Jared and… Mary... Melly... I'm sure the other name started with an M."
Madge chuckled. "Meg," she said. "Those are my mom and her brother. I think they were all pretty close back in the day."
"Yeah, that's what she said," Prim confirmed smiling brightly. "I didn't realize she was talking about your family at the time." Looking towards Peeta, she sobered up. "I was a bit distracted, I guess."
Prim's comment brought one more memory back. Reaching out to touch Madge's arm, Katniss said, "I think she also mentioned Mayselee."
Madge turned to Peeta whose eyes had turned dark and glassy. A soft silence settled over the group as the three older teens took a second to think about the tribute who had left the district to never come back.
Sensing the shift in mood, Prim opened the plant book. With loving reverence, she began turning the yellowing pages of the leather-bound volume.
Madge and Peeta followed the presentation in respectful silence, watching with rapt attention as the delicate renditions of plants and herbs slowly came into view.
Peeta's surprised gasp broke the silence. "Nightlock berries," he whispered pointing at the picture of a black round fruit.
"Nightlock?" Madge repeated. "Sounds dangerous."
"It is," Katniss confirmed, "The Capitol uses them as decoys sometimes. Peacekeeper patrols mix them with the regular berries. They're incredibly deadly, so you need to be careful when you handle them."
Locking her bright blue eyes with Prim's, Madge asked, "What's on the next page?"
XXXXX
Peeta leaned against the door frame and watched as Madge, Katniss, and Prim walked away. From where he stood, the three silhouettes looked like winter fairies sliding on the snow.
The thought brought a smile to his lips. He never would have guessed he'd be starting the new year in such sweet company.
After six months of living in Victors' Village, Peeta had almost given up on having visitors.
His friends from school never came by. He hardly ever saw them, and they always had some excuse when he did, wrestling practice, inventory week, history test.
Even Delly -his childhood friend who used to tell people they were siblings when they were little- had found a way to avoid coming to his home. He didn't blame her, though. He didn't blame any of them.
How could he? In their eyes, he was a cautionary tale. The merchant boy who had been reaped. A living reminder that every paper in Effie Trinket's glass ball counted.
Perhaps it's better that they stay away, he thought sometimes, when one of his darker moods struck. Who knows? I might even end up mentoring one of them next year.
Not unlike his friends, his family had only been to his house once, and that was mostly because they hadn't been able to decline his constant invitations.
His mother had barely spoken while she was there, but his dad had made up for her silence. The old baker had spent the entire visit complimenting Peeta's kitchen and making everyone ill at ease with his constant rambling.
His brothers had been overwhelmed by the size of the house and its luxurious furnishings, but they had recovered quickly. They hadn't gone back yet, but Peeta knew they would eventually; just probably not unannounced.
Madge Undersee was a different story, though.
As the major's daughter, Madge wasn't overwhelmed by his riches, and she didn't have to worry about learning a trade, which meant she had a lot of free time on her hands. Just like him.
She didn't know what it was like to be a tribute but, unlike the others, she wasn't afraid to look him in the eye. She was the only person who treated him like the same old Peeta.
Even Bran and Rye sometimes forgot that he was the same boy who could end up covered in flour after an afternoon shift and who knew how to charm his way out of any problem.
It was odd, he had never thought of Madge as anything more than a distant relative, but ever since she'd given him the bird-shaped pin, he had begun to see her as a real cousin. Even as a friend. So, he hadn't been surprised when she'd called that morning to ask him what he was up to and if he wanted some company.
Katniss's visit, on the other hand, had completely thrown him off balance.
He'd been delighted to find her on his doorstep on the first day of the year; and the fact that she'd felt comfortable enough to bring her sister along filled him with joy.
He didn't want to get ahead of himself, his relationship with Katniss was still new, but he enjoyed every second he spent with her, and he was starting to get the distinct impression that they were becoming friends.
And now that he knew Gale Hawthorne was not really in the picture, he couldn't stop his heart from hoping that she might even agree to be something more one day.
Madge and the Everdeen sisters opened the gate to the village and turned on the unpaved road which would take them back to their respective homes. Peeta kept his eyes on them until they disappeared from view.
Closing the door behind him, Peeta walked down the corridor and into his study.
A couple of open crates stared back at him. Their empty bellies waiting to be filled.
With a heavy sigh, Peeta reached for one of his biggest paintings, -a massive watercolor of Rue sitting on a tree branch- and took it down from its place on the wall. Carefully, he placed it in one of the crates.
He repeated the process, removing pictures and storing them; moving mechanically as he replayed the events of the morning in his mind and doggedly tried to forget that his Victory Tour was just a few days away.
XXXXX
Peeta opened his front door a couple of days later to find a peacekeeper standing on his doorstep.
The man wasn't from District 12. His uniform was too bright; his helmet had been polished recently. The badge over his heart said he belonged to the presidential guard.
"Victor Mellark," the peacekeeper said in a clipped, mechanical voice. "Move aside for President Snow."
A bone-chilling shiver ran up Peeta's spine at the mention of the president's name. His hand tightened on the doorknob to the point of pain, but his face gave nothing away.
Determined to keep his discomfort hidden from his visitor, Peeta pulled his shoulders back and straightened his stance. "Please, come in," he greeted as he stepped away from the door.
Without even glancing in his direction, the peacekeeper marched in. "Is this a sitting room?" he asked pointing at one of the first doors along the corridor.
Peeta nodded.
The peacekeeper opened the door to the room and slipped inside. He re-emerged after a few seconds looking almost bored. Using the radio device attached to his belt, he barked, "All clear!"
There was some shuffling of boots on the snow followed by the soft click of a car door being closed.
A moment later, the slight figure of President Snow crossed the threshold. His small, beady eyes, found Peeta's, "Good morning, my boy."
The cloying perfume of rose petals tickled Peeta's nose transporting him back to the training center and the Capitol. "Good morning, Sir. Welcome to District 12."
The president's lips turned into a crooked smirk. The expression made Peeta's blood curdle. "Shall we?" he asked indicating the door where his peacekeeper stood.
"Of course," Peeta said. "After you, Mr. President."
From his spot by the door, Peeta watched as the most powerful man in Panem went into his sitting room. He looks smaller, he thought, now that he's not surrounded by all the trappings of power.
Closing his front door, Peeta followed. A million questions swirled in his mind, but he pushed them away. Whatever this was, it was important. He needed to be completely focused.
Without waiting for an invitation, the president sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to him. "Sit down."
Peeta did as he was told. Remembering his manners, he asked, "Would you like something to drink? Some tea, perhaps? I could bring some scones-,"
The president waved Peeta's offer away. "No, I'm fine." Leaning against the back of the couch, he added, "That's very thoughtful of you, though. Most people don't remember that presidents also need to eat. Your mother raised you well."
Peeta's mouth went dry. President Snow's praise of his mother's parenting skills felt like a rock settling in his stomach.
Trying to seem at ease, Peeta followed the president's lead. He relaxed into the couch, dropped his hands on his lap and waited, counting his breaths as the silence between them stretched.
"I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here," the president finally said.
"I didn't know you came out to the districts," Peeta admitted.
"Oh, I don't." President Snow turned his full attention to Peeta. "Not unless I think the situation merits it."
Peeta swallowed thickly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped the president wouldn't hear the sound of his heart pounding as it tried to escape his chest.
"Listen, Peeta, I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler if we agree to be honest with each other. What do you say?"
Peeta nodded. "I agree, Sir."
A small satisfied smile curved the president's lips. "I'm here because I have a problem."
Peeta's eyes narrowed. "A problem, Sir?"
"Yes. For years, this country has run like a well-oiled machine. The districts provide goods, and the Capitol makes sure they're distributed. But there's a group of people who aren't satisfied with the way things are done. They think they can do a better job."
The president's eyes darkened as he continued, "These people believe that if the districts band together and change the way things are run, they might be able to get more. More food, more electricity, more fuel, more power. But what they don't know is that there isn't more."
"There isn't?" Peeta asked.
"No. Our situation is truly precarious." President Snow looked away. His next words were cold and measured, part threat, part unavoidable reality. "I can assure you, Peeta. If the Capitol were to release its grip on the districts for even a short time, the entire system would collapse."
Peeta's eyes widened. "You mean-," The words died on his tongue, the thought too terrifying to be spoken out loud.
"Without proper guidance, we'll all lose," the president supplied. "The dark days will seem like child's play compared to what's to come."
Too overwhelmed to speak, Peeta bit the inside of his cheek.
Across from him, the president sighed.
The faint smell of rusty iron filled the room. The foul odor mixed with the lingering scent of roses and stuck to Peeta's throat making him cough.
Seemingly unaware of his host's discomfort, the president went on, "Can you imagine what that would mean for our country, Peeta? How many people would die? What conditions those left would have to face? I know some are dissatisfied, but things could get a lot worse."
An uneasy silence fell over the room as President Snow's unsettling words of death and destruction hung in the air between them.
With a light tap on Peeta's knee, the president added, "Of course, you're probably wondering what any of this has to do with you."
"I am," Peeta admitted.
"It's very simple. In the following weeks, all of Panem will be watching you. All you need to do is make sure that our message of prosperity, stability, and peace is delivered."
Peeta blinked a few times as his mind tried to catch up with the president's request. "How will I do that?"
"Just stick to the script. Miss Trinket will provide you with different speeches throughout your tour. Make sure you read them and read them well -we don't want anyone thinking you're a trained parrot," he finished with a smirk.
Peeta looked down at his lap. Slowly, he clasped his hands together to keep them from shaking. "And, if I fail?"
"You won't." The vote of confidence felt like a cold blade cutting through his soul. "I've seen you in action, Peeta. I know you can do this because you care. You respect the fallen. You protect the weak. And what's weaker than District 12?
"If the Capitol loses control over the country, I can't guarantee these new leaders will be able, or willing, to provide for the district's needs. Let's face it, these individuals are greedy, and what can the poorest district in the country offer in exchange for their help?" Raising his brows, he added, "Coal is no longer the commodity it once was. So, let's just say things will get a lot more difficult for your people if this doesn't go our way."
Standing up, the president walked towards the window. "It's a pity, isn't it? This was one of the prettiest Villages once, but it's been slowly dying of loneliness and neglect. It's still here, though," Turning to face Peeta, he asked, "Wouldn't it be a shame if it were to disappear altogether?"
Peeta gritted his teeth and nodded.
The satisfied grin reappeared on the president's lips. "So, what do you say? Will you help me? Will you stop these fanatics from destroying what little we have left?"
The words felt like ash in Peeta's mouth. Too scared to do anything else, he spat them out. "Yes, I will."
XXXXX
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.