The arrival in the capitol two days later feels like the most exhausting part yet. She thought by the time she'd be here, she'd have one last burst of energy, knowing that she was just a few short hours away from being done with the Victory Tour, but Katniss felt drained. She can't imagine mustering even one more faux smile to save her life.
The one thing that brightens her day is Cinna, for whom she has real smiles.
"I always knew you'd win," Cinna says as he pulls her into a hug. She's not one for hugging, but something about Cinna's hugs seems so much like home, even though he is Capitol and should be everything she hates. But he's never felt like that, not from the very beginning.
"I wish Peeta were here with me," Katniss whispers, unsure of what else to say.
"Oh, I know," Cinna sighs, "I do too."
Katniss knows he means it. So many people have expressed their sympathies, but she hasn't felt like there's any truth behind it. It's just what you do, but realistically, only one person walks out of there alive. But with Cinna, she can sink into her pain, and imagine for one fleeting second that things could have been different…that the rules could have been bent, that he could have gone a different year, or that he never would have been picked at all.
So many different paths, but none of them are here in front of her and that just kills her.
"So, what do you have for me tonight?" Katniss asks, forcing her feelings back inside. If she lets it go now, she'll lose herself completely and won't recover in time for Snow's party.
She's dreading it.
But she has to play her part.
Cinna pulls in a dress in a protective slip and flourishes it for the reveal.
Katniss sucks in, "Is that a-,"
"Wedding dress?" Cinna's face is serious, "In black, yes. You're in mourning."
"But I didn't…" She begins to argue, but her words die on her tongue. She is in mourning. Any chance to see what they could have become was snatched. Maybe they would have married, maybe not.
But Snow took that from them.
"It's beautiful," Katniss finishes instead, "It always is."
The ends of it look like it's been burned, but beautifully. Something smoldering still, perhaps a metaphorical representation of her love, stomped down, but still there. A love Katniss just can't let go of.
Peeta would want her to use this, she knows. He was smarter than her in that way. If there was a chance she could gain favor for herself using this charade he began, he'd want her to.
The back is low-cut, almost teasingly, but Cinna has provided a lace cape to keep the modesty.
Almost like a veil.
She sucks in when he zips it on her, fingers tracing the patterns.
Would she have Cinna design it, if they had married?
She really wants to know what it would have looked like, and she's thinking of all the sorts of things she never was interested in before and is caught up in that wave of pain all at once again.
No one ever told her that anguish could feel this deep, this empty. Not even losing her father hurt as much as this did.
Cinna offers her a handkerchief, "You've got this," He says quietly. It's time to pull her tears back.
Effie meets her at her door to walk her to Snow's mansion.
"Oh, you're all the news, darling!" She squeals, "The whole Capitol is in a tizzy over you."
"You and Cato," Haymitch adds, narrowing his eyes.
"Us?" Katniss laughs, "Isn't it always like that?" She looks at Haymitch for confirmation.
"Well…" He sucks out the word, "This is different."
"Oh, just look at you two!" Effie turns around a newspaper and right smack in the middle is Cato and Katniss at the District 2 dinner party.
And they look…well, Katniss can't put her finger on it, but they don't look ready to kill each other.
Cato's arm is slung over her chair, protectively, and his smile is so rehearsed that Katniss is sure everyone would have to know it's fake, but apparently not. And shockingly, perhaps what is drawing the attention, is that the photo was taken right at the exact singular moment Katniss didn't look like she wanted to kill Cato. This means she's left with this look of almost unsureness on her face, a flush to her cheeks one might mistake as a pounding heart. What they don't know is that it's red from anger at Cato, but hate and love pretty much look exactly the same.
"This is going to be trouble for me, isn't it?" Katniss asks dryly, folding the newspaper.
"Troubel?" Effie gasps, "The very opposite! This is an opporutniyt, Katniss."
But Katniss ignores her, looking right at Haymitch. He only grimaces, but that's enough.
It's not enough that she has to be anyone but herself tonight, she has to do it while playing nice with Cato.
"Lovely," Katniss mutters.
"It is, isn't it?" Effie sighs, and Katniss is sure she heard the tone and is choosing to be very obtuse about it.
The entire Capitol must be there, with how many people are streaming through Snow's doors. And they're all dressed just as gaudily as Effie. Somehow, Katniss is the only one who looks somewhat normal, though she knows Cinna would never dress her in something tacky.
"This is absurd," She whispers, eyes wide, gawking at the largeness of the mansion. Who needs this much space?
"This is just the beginning," Haymitch is already scanning for an Avox with drinks, sucking on the inside of his cheek when he can't immediately find one.
Katniss spots a few of the former Victors mingling. Most give her polite waves but are schmoozing Capitol folk on their own little side quests. Johanna Mason comes up behind her.
"Well, don't you just look like a beauty queen," She snorts.
Katniss does a little turn, unsure what else to do.
"That's not a wedding dress, is it?" Johanna's eyes widen, "That's bold."
"It's a funeral dress," Katniss corrects, forcing a smile. Johanna examines her and then swallows her usual fire.
"Right," She says, sighing, "I didn't get along very well with my partner. But you and Peeta seemed…" She struggles, "It seemed genuine."
It was, I think, but I didn't know until it was far too late.
"Snow is about to give his speech, and then we can get drunk," Johanna says, "It's the only way any of this is bearable."
She pulls Katniss near the front because, of course, Snow will want to see Katniss, the person of the hour. She watches how Snow's eyes take in her dress and his lips turn downward, just slightly, but not so much to be obvious to the crowd.
He says the usual brand of speech, nothing worth Katniss remembering. By the end of it, everyone is cheering her name, and she tells herself she's this much closer to going home.
What she'll do when she gets home beats her, but it's better than this.
As the party kicks off, Katniss is uncomfortably aware of the way men are watching her. She can feel their eyes tracking her movements, and when she turns, most are arrogant enough to meet her gaze instead of looking away. Most are not shy about the fact they are very interested in wherever she's going, more than just a morbid curiosity about Victors. No, the way they're looking at her is more insidious.
Katniss wonders if she would have noticed if Cato hadn't said anything. She likes to think so; being a hunter requires awareness of one's surroundings and all these gazes are setting off something deep in her stomach, a primal fear. The sort that raises the hair on the back of your neck. She may not have known why, but she thinks she'd realize that she's on display in a way that makes her feel dirty.
She has to come with terms that Cato probably isn't lying.
Resentment festers; which of these creeps will pay for her first? Which one will she have to play nice with, batting her eyes at them, worrying about what Snow will do if she doesn't? Which of them-
"Care for a dance?"
Katniss jerks her head up to see Cato standing in front of her table. Johanna nods at him tersely. It seems he's equally as unpopular with others, and Katniss likes Johanna, so just one more mark against him.
"No," She says honestly, smiling at him.
"C'mon, Katniss," He says, smiling too, but it doesn't reach his eyes, "We'd better do it now before we're forced."
The fucking photo.
A lot of people are looking at the pair of them now, not just sleazy men. Everyone is pointing and whispering. Everyone is waiting to see what will happen.
Katniss looks to Johanna for backup, sure that if anyone asked her to dance she'd probably kick their shins, but she just gives a shrug.
"Well, he's right," She says , " Your photo is all my makeup team could talk about."
Katniss screams inside her head.
"Fine," She gathers her skirts, stomping out to the dance floor.
"Let me lead," Cato instructs, "If you think you can."
"Well, I don't know what I'm doing, so…" She takes one of his hands and puts the other on his shoulder. She's just trying not to make a fool of herself by falling on her face in front of all these people. The sway of the music is in her head, a complicated back and forth that she never thought was worth giving effort to learning and-
-Cato's warm hand slides underneath her elaborate cape that turns into a train, hand splaying on the exposed skin of the small of her back, something she did not permit him to do. Not just keeping his hands in safe places, or doing it above the lace, but putting it there comes with a certain shiver of a feeling.
"What are you doing?" She hisses, snapping her expression up.
Cato tugs her closer, closing the space between them so that her body is nearly pressing up against his.
"Taking claim," He murmurs in her ear, voice as smooth as velvet.
Katniss tries to pull back, so taken off guard that she can't form an immediate response, but it's rising, sure to explode out of her, but Cato keeps her where she is.
"Before you get all indignant," He hisses, "I'll walk away and leave you to the vultures if you're going to be ungrateful."
"Ungrateful?" Katniss sputters, "Oh, you're such a savior, are you?"
"There's a man over there pushing eighty, perhaps older, who hasn't taken his eyes off your ass the whole night. He's loaded. I can make the introduction, since there's a good chance he'll swoop in if I don't," Cato says evenly, the horror of the situation making her heart pound fast as he so easily reads the room, "Or there's a man in the corner, the one with the bright neon yellow wig and mustache. I've heard things about him. He likes his girls in pairs and he likes to hear them scream. But you survived the Hunger Games, you'll be fine, won't you?"
Katniss bites back angry tears, "So what do you expect in return?" She demands, "My choices are them or you, but I'm not naive enough to think you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart. It's just trading one for the other."
Cato actually looks stricken for a second, almost hurt, but he is able to hide it quickly enough that Katniss thinks maybe she was misreading him.
"Nothing," Cato says, "As long as you don't fuck me over in any way, I don't give two shits if people think we're something or not."
"Really?" Katniss laughs, "Gone soft on me in one dinner, is that all it takes?" She shakes her head, "You don't like me."
"True," Cato says easily, so quickly that it stings, just a bit, "But as luck would have it, I hate Snow so much more. And it would just make me laugh to imagine that Snow's attempts at selling you or whoring you out to those he needs to keep happy are thwarted. If I'm going to exist in prison, I want some agency of how my jail cell looks."
Katniss hated Snow too, and yes, if it was a choice between who she hated more, it was zero contest. Cato looked downright lovely put up against him.
"So what now?" Katniss asks.
"Don't kick me in the balls," Cato replies and Katniss is about to ask what he means , but the question dies on her lips as Cato possesivly slips his hand halfway under the hem of her dress, not enough to be explicit, but enough to send a clear message that you'd have to be the biggest idiot of all to ignore.
"Why don't you just grab my whole ass?" Katniss rolls her eyes, but she can see out of the corner of her sight how some of those men - the ones that watch her - drop away.
Well, fuck, it's working.
"That would be improper," Cato snorts.
Being so close to someone, even someone that Katniss can't stand, makes her body feel things . It's such a shame that her head, heart, and that pulling fire in the pit of her stomach are on three totally different pages.
"Before you grope me more, warn me," Katniss says. She understands it's all for show. She's done this with Peeta. But she wants to know what's coming. She hates being the last to know, and this is unfortunately a trend.
A camera crew comes, by absolutely fawning. While there were rumors in that newspaper of something budding between the two former Victors, it's undeniable now.
Barf.
Katniss has been, as Cato so crudely put it, 'claimed'.
"This will keep Snow off my back?"
"I would imagine so," Cato says. This song is drawing out to forever. Why isn't it finished yet? "The Capitol get really…protective over their favorites. And if news came out that they were making either of us be unfaithful, well…" He makes a face, They have their morals all fucked up."
"And that's saying something from you?"
"Yeah," Cato doesn't even argue it.
"So I see," Katniss nods, "You're getting something out of it too. You don't want to be sold off either."
"Does anyone?" Cato asks hollowly. It's such a human answer, so raw and pained that Katniss feels like he didn't mean for her to see that.
Just as she's riddling it out, Snow parts the sea of couples.
"Ah, Mr. Hadley," His eyes zero in on the way Cato's holding Katniss, "It seems the rumors are true." He smiles, something sinister, "I wish you both the best, of course."
"We just…found each other," Cato says, pausing his dancing, but his hand stays on Katniss' back, "I was just as surprised."
He lies so easily.
"Me too," Katniss adds. That isn't a lie. She was also surprised by this.
"Young love," Snow muses, though Katniss can't imagine he knows what that feels like. In her mind, he's always been this age, "The way it just captures the imagination…" He seems deep in thought of something, something that Katniss is sure won't bode well for her, but they're on this train now.
"Enjoy your night," Snow finally says, letting this all go much too easily for Katniss' liking.
"Wine," He mutters to Cato, wanting off this dance floor. He allows her to leave, following her, "Something feels weird," She whispers once they're out of earshot, "That was less tense than I would imagine."
"I agree," Cato nods, "But Snow wouldn't do anything to upset the Capitol folk." He takes two glasses of wine, one red and one white. He waits for Katniss to pick.
She takes the red.
"Noted," He says to himself, as though he'll have to know what she likes for the future.
"Is the night done yet?" Katniss groans.
Cato sips his white, "No," He replies, always so unflinchingly honest. He has that going for him, "Smile for god sake. Look like you like being next to me."
"I'm doing the best I can."
"Try harder," Cato says, "Look like you don't want to shoot an arrow through me."
"But I do."
"Yeah, I know," Cato huffs, "Look, find your happy place. Probably a stupid wood or something. And go there, hide yourself away."
"What's yours?" Katniss raises an eyebrow.
"It doesn't matter," He says, stiffening, "Just find somewhere in that argumentative mind of yours and exist back there, autopilot up here," He shakes his head, "I need this too, and I need you not to burn out."
"Burn out?" She echoes, confused.
Cato looks over at her, expression cold, "Tap out of life, Katniss," He says, about as delicately as he can.
Oh.
"I have reasons to stick around," She says quietly.
"Yeah, your sister," Cato nods, "Cute kid. Go wherever you go, put on a dumb smile, and follow me around, okay?" He instructs, "And maybe we'll get out of this night in one piece."
"And then?"
"And then you go home and I go home and we act like we just can't keep our hands off each other whenever we're both in the same place. Otherwise, you don't exist to me."
"Sounds like a plan."
Cato refills their drinks. He gets a red whine as well, "Fantastic. Now, fucking smile, Everdeen. People are looking."