The Victors' Village, District 12 [Thursday, Fandom Time]
It had been about two weeks since the end of the Games. Katniss was home in District 12, and restless, even if she and her mother and Prim were now moved into their fine home in the Victor's Village.
It was only pure luck that she didn't have any game with her -- she'd left it with Gale's mother earlier -- when she came in the door.
Her mother gave an odd, breathy laugh as she removed the game bag from Katniss's shoulder. “Did you have a nice walk?”
“Walk?” Her mother knew that Katniss had been in the woods half the night. Then she saw the man standing behind her mother in the kitchen doorway. One look at his tailored suit and surgically perfected features and Katniss knew he was from the Capitol. Something was wrong. “It was fine. A little wet, is all."
“Someone's here to see you,” said her mother. Her face was too pale and Katniss could hear the anxiety she was trying to hide.
“I thought they weren't due until noon.” she said, pretending not to notice her state. “Did Cinna come early to help me get ready?”
“No, Katniss, it's -” her mother began.
“This way, please, Miss Everdeen,” said the man. He gestured down the hallway. It was weird to be ushered around her own home, but she knew better than to comment on it.
As she went, she gave her mother a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “Probably more instructions for the tour.” The Victory Tour wouldn't be for months, but the Capitol had already begun sending all kinds of stuff about her itinerary and what protocol would be observed in each district.
“Go right in,” said the Capitol man, who had followed her down the hallway.
She twisted the polished brass knob and stepped inside. Her nose registered the conflicting scents of roses and blood. A small, white-haired man who seemed vaguely familiar was reading a book. He held up a finger as if to say, “Give me a moment.” Then he turned and her heart skipped a beat.
She was staring into the snakelike eyes of President Snow.
If he had made the journey all the way from his city, it could only mean one thing. Katniss was in serious trouble. And if she was, so was her family. A shiver went through her when she thought of the proximity of her mother and sister to this man who despised her. Would always despise her. Because she outsmarted his sadistic Hunger Games, made the Capitol look foolish, and consequently undermined his control.
All she was doing was trying to keep Peeta and herself alive. Any act of rebellion was purely coincidental. But when the Capitol decreed that only one tribute can live and she had the audacity to challenge it, she guessed that's a rebellion in itself. Her only defense was pretending that she was driven insane by a passionate love for Peeta. So they were both allowed to live. To be crowned victors. To go home and celebrate and wave good-bye to the cameras and be left alone. Until now.
Perhaps it was the newness of the house or the shock of seeing him or the mutual understanding that he could have her killed in a second that made her feel like the intruder. As if this was his home and Katniss was the uninvited party. She stood motionless, her eyes locked on him, considering plans of retreat.
“I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other,” he said. “What do you think?”
She thoughther tongue had frozen and speech would be impossible, so she surprised herself by answering back in a steady voice, “Yes, I think that would save time.”
“My advisors were concerned you would be difficult, but you're not planning on being difficult, are you?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“That's what I told them. I said any girl who goes to such lengths to preserve her life isn't going to be interested in throwing it away with both hands. And then there's her family to think of. Her mother, her sister, and all those ... cousins.” By the way he lingered on the word “cousins,” she could tell he knew that she and Gale did not share a family tree.
Well, it was all on the table then. Maybe that's better. Katniss didn't do well with ambiguous threats. She would much rather know the score.
“Let's sit.” President Snow took a seat at the large desk of polished wood where Prim did her homework and their mother her budgets. Like their home, this was a place that he had no right, but ultimately every right, to occupy. Katniss sat in front of the desk on one of the carved, straight-backed chairs. It was made for someone taller than she was, so only her toes rested on the ground.
“I have a problem, Miss Everdeen,” said President Snow. “A problem that began the moment you pulled out those poisonous berries in the arena.”
That was the moment when she guessed that if the Gamemakers had to choose between watching Peeta and Katniss commit suicide -- which would mean having no victor -- and letting them both live, they would take the latter.
“If the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he'd have blown you to dust right then. But he had an unfortunate sentimental streak. So here you are. Can you guess where he is?” he asked.
She nodded, because, by the way he said it, it was clear that Seneca Crane had been executed. The smell of roses and blood had grown stronger now that only a desk separated them. There was a rose in President Snow's lapel, which at least suggested a source of the flower perfume, but it must be genetically enhanced, because no real rose reeks like that. As for the blood...she didn't know
“After that, there was nothing to do but let you play out your little scenario. And you were pretty good, too, with the love-crazed schoolgirl bit. The people in the Capitol were quite convinced. Unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for your act,” he said.
Her face must have registered at least a flicker of bewilderment, because he addressed it.
“This, of course, you don't know. You have no access to information about the mood in other districts. In several of them, however, people viewed your little trick with the berries as an act of defiance, not an act of love. And if a girl from District Twelve of all places can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed, what is to stop them from doing the same?” he said. “What is to prevent, say, an uprising?”
It took a moment for his last sentence to sink in. Then the full weight of it hit her. “There have been uprisings?” she asked, both chilled and somewhat elated by the possibility.
“Not yet. But they'll follow if the course of things doesn't change. And uprisings have been known to lead to revolution.” President Snow rubbed a spot over his left eyebrow, the very spot where Katniss got headaches. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? How many people would die? What conditions those left would have to face? Whatever problems anyone may have with the Capitol, believe me when I say that if it released its grip on the districts for even a short time, the entire system would collapse.”
She was taken aback by the directness and even the sincerity of this speech. As if his primary concern was the welfare of the citizens of Panem, when nothing could be further from the truth. Katniss didn't know how she dared to say the next words, but she did. “It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down.”
There was a long pause while he examined her. Then he simply said, “It is fragile, but not in the way that you suppose.”
“I didn't mean to start any uprisings,” Katniss told him.
“I believe you. It doesn't matter. Your stylist turned out to be prophetic in his wardrobe choice. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem,” he said.
“Why don't you just kill me now?” she blurted out. “Publicly?” he asked. “That would only add fuel to the flames.”
“Arrange an accident, then,” she said.
“Who would buy it?” he asked. “Not you, if you were watching.”
“Then just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it,” she said.
“If only it were that simple.” He picked up one of the flowered cookies her mother had given them, and examined it. “Lovely. Your mother made these?”
“Peeta.” And for the first time, she found she couldn't hold his gaze. She reached for her tea but set it back down when she heard the cup rattling against the saucer. To cover she quickly took a cookie.
“Peeta. How is the love of your life?” he asked. “Good,” she said.
“At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?” he asked, dipping his cookie in his tea. “I'm not indifferent,” she said.
“But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe,” he said. “Who says I'm not?” she said.
“I do,” said the president. “And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?”
“I don't know...I don't....” Her revulsion at this conversation, at discussing her feelings for two of the people she cared most about with President Snow, choked her off.
“Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution,” he said. “You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday.”
“Please don't hurt Gale,” she whispered. “He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us. Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now.”
“I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts,” he said. "And what I am discovering is that you cannot be around your cousin, or around Peeta. Your feelings for your 'cousin,' your indifference towards Peeta -- these affect the mood in the districts. Starting with this one."
Katniss felt helpless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would he kill Gale, and remove that threat? Her grief would be too great, and would overshadow her supposed love for Peeta -- she negotiated these things in her mind.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked softly, finally.
"I'm arranging for you to go to a school. Far away from here," President Snow said quietly. "By the time the Victory Tour begins, you will be brought back. If your behavior is good -- if you can convince me you love Peeta Mellark -- then you can stay here with your mother and sister. If not, you will be sent back, until I'm convinced otherwise. If you are gone, but alive, the districts might forget you. If you die, you're a symbol."
Katniss's mind was racing. A school? And she would be forced, once again, to leave Prim and her mother and Gale all here as bargaining chips. She fought for control, to keep her face in check.
"When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow, by train. And Miss Everdeen," he added, as he got up to leave. "You will be watched. I assure you."
[aaaaaaaaaand we finally diverge from canon! Spoilers for Catching Fire, though very little trauma in this one! NFI, NFB, OOC okay! ETA: AND IT ALWAYS SAID 12, NOT 2. My 1 key sticks. :(]
It was only pure luck that she didn't have any game with her -- she'd left it with Gale's mother earlier -- when she came in the door.
Her mother gave an odd, breathy laugh as she removed the game bag from Katniss's shoulder. “Did you have a nice walk?”
“Walk?” Her mother knew that Katniss had been in the woods half the night. Then she saw the man standing behind her mother in the kitchen doorway. One look at his tailored suit and surgically perfected features and Katniss knew he was from the Capitol. Something was wrong. “It was fine. A little wet, is all."
“Someone's here to see you,” said her mother. Her face was too pale and Katniss could hear the anxiety she was trying to hide.
“I thought they weren't due until noon.” she said, pretending not to notice her state. “Did Cinna come early to help me get ready?”
“No, Katniss, it's -” her mother began.
“This way, please, Miss Everdeen,” said the man. He gestured down the hallway. It was weird to be ushered around her own home, but she knew better than to comment on it.
As she went, she gave her mother a reassuring smile over her shoulder. “Probably more instructions for the tour.” The Victory Tour wouldn't be for months, but the Capitol had already begun sending all kinds of stuff about her itinerary and what protocol would be observed in each district.
“Go right in,” said the Capitol man, who had followed her down the hallway.
She twisted the polished brass knob and stepped inside. Her nose registered the conflicting scents of roses and blood. A small, white-haired man who seemed vaguely familiar was reading a book. He held up a finger as if to say, “Give me a moment.” Then he turned and her heart skipped a beat.
She was staring into the snakelike eyes of President Snow.
If he had made the journey all the way from his city, it could only mean one thing. Katniss was in serious trouble. And if she was, so was her family. A shiver went through her when she thought of the proximity of her mother and sister to this man who despised her. Would always despise her. Because she outsmarted his sadistic Hunger Games, made the Capitol look foolish, and consequently undermined his control.
All she was doing was trying to keep Peeta and herself alive. Any act of rebellion was purely coincidental. But when the Capitol decreed that only one tribute can live and she had the audacity to challenge it, she guessed that's a rebellion in itself. Her only defense was pretending that she was driven insane by a passionate love for Peeta. So they were both allowed to live. To be crowned victors. To go home and celebrate and wave good-bye to the cameras and be left alone. Until now.
Perhaps it was the newness of the house or the shock of seeing him or the mutual understanding that he could have her killed in a second that made her feel like the intruder. As if this was his home and Katniss was the uninvited party. She stood motionless, her eyes locked on him, considering plans of retreat.
“I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other,” he said. “What do you think?”
She thoughther tongue had frozen and speech would be impossible, so she surprised herself by answering back in a steady voice, “Yes, I think that would save time.”
“My advisors were concerned you would be difficult, but you're not planning on being difficult, are you?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“That's what I told them. I said any girl who goes to such lengths to preserve her life isn't going to be interested in throwing it away with both hands. And then there's her family to think of. Her mother, her sister, and all those ... cousins.” By the way he lingered on the word “cousins,” she could tell he knew that she and Gale did not share a family tree.
Well, it was all on the table then. Maybe that's better. Katniss didn't do well with ambiguous threats. She would much rather know the score.
“Let's sit.” President Snow took a seat at the large desk of polished wood where Prim did her homework and their mother her budgets. Like their home, this was a place that he had no right, but ultimately every right, to occupy. Katniss sat in front of the desk on one of the carved, straight-backed chairs. It was made for someone taller than she was, so only her toes rested on the ground.
“I have a problem, Miss Everdeen,” said President Snow. “A problem that began the moment you pulled out those poisonous berries in the arena.”
That was the moment when she guessed that if the Gamemakers had to choose between watching Peeta and Katniss commit suicide -- which would mean having no victor -- and letting them both live, they would take the latter.
“If the Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane, had had any brains, he'd have blown you to dust right then. But he had an unfortunate sentimental streak. So here you are. Can you guess where he is?” he asked.
She nodded, because, by the way he said it, it was clear that Seneca Crane had been executed. The smell of roses and blood had grown stronger now that only a desk separated them. There was a rose in President Snow's lapel, which at least suggested a source of the flower perfume, but it must be genetically enhanced, because no real rose reeks like that. As for the blood...she didn't know
“After that, there was nothing to do but let you play out your little scenario. And you were pretty good, too, with the love-crazed schoolgirl bit. The people in the Capitol were quite convinced. Unfortunately, not everyone in the districts fell for your act,” he said.
Her face must have registered at least a flicker of bewilderment, because he addressed it.
“This, of course, you don't know. You have no access to information about the mood in other districts. In several of them, however, people viewed your little trick with the berries as an act of defiance, not an act of love. And if a girl from District Twelve of all places can defy the Capitol and walk away unharmed, what is to stop them from doing the same?” he said. “What is to prevent, say, an uprising?”
It took a moment for his last sentence to sink in. Then the full weight of it hit her. “There have been uprisings?” she asked, both chilled and somewhat elated by the possibility.
“Not yet. But they'll follow if the course of things doesn't change. And uprisings have been known to lead to revolution.” President Snow rubbed a spot over his left eyebrow, the very spot where Katniss got headaches. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? How many people would die? What conditions those left would have to face? Whatever problems anyone may have with the Capitol, believe me when I say that if it released its grip on the districts for even a short time, the entire system would collapse.”
She was taken aback by the directness and even the sincerity of this speech. As if his primary concern was the welfare of the citizens of Panem, when nothing could be further from the truth. Katniss didn't know how she dared to say the next words, but she did. “It must be very fragile, if a handful of berries can bring it down.”
There was a long pause while he examined her. Then he simply said, “It is fragile, but not in the way that you suppose.”
“I didn't mean to start any uprisings,” Katniss told him.
“I believe you. It doesn't matter. Your stylist turned out to be prophetic in his wardrobe choice. Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem,” he said.
“Why don't you just kill me now?” she blurted out. “Publicly?” he asked. “That would only add fuel to the flames.”
“Arrange an accident, then,” she said.
“Who would buy it?” he asked. “Not you, if you were watching.”
“Then just tell me what you want me to do. I'll do it,” she said.
“If only it were that simple.” He picked up one of the flowered cookies her mother had given them, and examined it. “Lovely. Your mother made these?”
“Peeta.” And for the first time, she found she couldn't hold his gaze. She reached for her tea but set it back down when she heard the cup rattling against the saucer. To cover she quickly took a cookie.
“Peeta. How is the love of your life?” he asked. “Good,” she said.
“At what point did he realize the exact degree of your indifference?” he asked, dipping his cookie in his tea. “I'm not indifferent,” she said.
“But perhaps not as taken with the young man as you would have the country believe,” he said. “Who says I'm not?” she said.
“I do,” said the president. “And I wouldn't be here if I were the only person who had doubts. How's the handsome cousin?”
“I don't know...I don't....” Her revulsion at this conversation, at discussing her feelings for two of the people she cared most about with President Snow, choked her off.
“Speak, Miss Everdeen. Him I can easily kill off if we don't come to a happy resolution,” he said. “You aren't doing him a favor by disappearing into the woods with him each Sunday.”
“Please don't hurt Gale,” she whispered. “He's just my friend. He's been my friend for years. That's all that's between us. Besides, everyone thinks we're cousins now.”
“I'm only interested in how it affects your dynamic with Peeta, thereby affecting the mood in the districts,” he said. "And what I am discovering is that you cannot be around your cousin, or around Peeta. Your feelings for your 'cousin,' your indifference towards Peeta -- these affect the mood in the districts. Starting with this one."
Katniss felt helpless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Would he kill Gale, and remove that threat? Her grief would be too great, and would overshadow her supposed love for Peeta -- she negotiated these things in her mind.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked softly, finally.
"I'm arranging for you to go to a school. Far away from here," President Snow said quietly. "By the time the Victory Tour begins, you will be brought back. If your behavior is good -- if you can convince me you love Peeta Mellark -- then you can stay here with your mother and sister. If not, you will be sent back, until I'm convinced otherwise. If you are gone, but alive, the districts might forget you. If you die, you're a symbol."
Katniss's mind was racing. A school? And she would be forced, once again, to leave Prim and her mother and Gale all here as bargaining chips. She fought for control, to keep her face in check.
"When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow, by train. And Miss Everdeen," he added, as he got up to leave. "You will be watched. I assure you."
[aaaaaaaaaand we finally diverge from canon! Spoilers for Catching Fire, though very little trauma in this one! NFI, NFB, OOC okay! ETA: AND IT ALWAYS SAID 12, NOT 2. My 1 key sticks. :(]