Chapter Text
The church is a huge, monstrous thing. Bigger than Peeta had imagined any church could be. Effie had informed him that it seats ten thousand people which is more than the entire population of District 12. Every seat is full this afternoon, full of brightly-colored Capitolites who have managed to secure an invitation to the event of the decade; the marriage of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.
Peeta adjusts the sleeves of his tuxedo, puts on his best smile and walks down the aisle. Everywhere, eyes watch him showing everything from rapt attention to desperate boredom. Peeta walks slowly, more slowly than he would like, very aware of the tapping of his cane against the marble floor.
In addition to being very big, the church is apparently very old; a thing from long before the war. A testament to the growing wealth and influence of the Capitol in the days when the Capitol was still consolidating its power. The marble is of alternating black and white and looks almost garish to Peeta's eye, but Effie has assured him that it was incredibly expensive. The high, cathedral style ceilings make him feel small.
Near the front, Peeta sees some familiar faces — Haymitch, Effie, their stylists, and their prep teams. Effie bursts into tears when Peeta catches her eye.
"Oh, I always get weepy at weddings," she whispers to Haymitch in a carrying voice.
Haymitch removes a flask from his jacket pocket and takes a long drink.
Peeta reaches the front of the room and stands in the appointed place. He watches as little Capitol girls walk down the aisle, throwing white rose petals on the floor. Roses are everywhere, hanging from the ceilings, lining the aisles, in great displays near the front where Peeta is standing. The smell of them almost overwhelms Peeta.
The girls scatter and there is a pause as the music changes. Then, the big doors at the back open and Katniss enters, on the arm of President Snow. There is a collective sigh from the gathered guests. Everyone had gushed over what an honor it was for the President himself to walk Katniss down the aisle, standing in the father role since Katniss's own father had died when she was young. None of Katniss or Peeta's family members are present, not even the now-famous Primrose Everdeen. This wedding is entirely a Capitol affair. Peeta doesn't know any of the assembled guests apart from Haymitch, Effie, the stylists, and the preps. He does spot several celebrities in the crowd, though. Even a victor or two. Is that Finnick Odair that he sees about halfway back?
Peeta forces himself to look at Katniss, plastering a look of transfixed adoration on his face. This apparently works well enough because several guests make the types of noises that people usually make when they see a particularly cute puppy. Katniss is nearly swallowed up in her dress. It is a huge thing, with a long train that is carried by several Capitol women. There are so many ridiculous ruffles and jewels that even fiery Katniss is hard to find. Peeta knows that it's not one of Cinna's creations. Over the past week, people in the Capitol had been allowed to vote on wedding dresses for Katniss, all hastily made by different designers. The Capitolites had apparently picked the gaudiest of the dresses.
As Katniss approaches, she catches Peeta's eye. Her face is fixed in that fake rictus of a smile that she so often wears now. It's an expression that Peeta is coming to hate.
As Katniss and Snow reach the altar, Snow places Katniss's small hand into Peeta's. He gives Peeta's arm a brief squeeze that makes Peeta shiver, though it doesn't hurt. Snow steps behind the altar — he's not only walking Katniss down the aisle, he's also performing the ceremony.
The stained glass windows bathe Katniss in red light. Some might be tempted to say that it's reminiscent of fire, but it reminds Peeta more of blood. He knows that he is covered in similar red light. President Snow looks down on them with a slight smile on his lips and a strange look in his snake-like eyes.
The wedding vows are the traditional ones. There had been some talk of having them write their own vows, but in the end it was decided that they should say the words that were older than Panem.
"I, Peeta, take you, Katniss, to be my lawfully wedded wife," Peeta says, repeating the words after President Snow. "To have and to hold from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death parts us."
Peeta's voice catches on the word death and his eyes fill with tears. He glances quickly at the crowd. It should be okay if he cries a little. People cry at weddings. No need for anyone to know that they aren't tears of joy. Peeta glances up at Snow and sees that he isn't fooled, though.
When Katniss repeats the vows, it's in such a low voice that even the guests in the front strain to hear her. Peeta realizes that she's crying as well and trying to hide it.
"I, Katniss, take you, Peeta, to be my lawfully wedded husband," she says. "To have and to hold from this day forth, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death parts us."
When Snow asks if anyone objects to the union, there is complete silence. Peeta can think of several reasons why this marriage is objectionable. They're both sixteen. They're being forced into it under threat to their families' lives. They just won the Hunger Games a month ago. Katniss doesn't love him.
After a long silence, Snow speaks.
"Then, by the power vested in me by the people of Panem, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Peeta takes Katniss in his arms and kisses her. Her lips are very cold. The applause is thunderous. Peeta pulls away from Katniss, sees her blinking away tears. He looks out at the audience and sees that several people have fainted. He'd been warned that this might happen. Capitol people can get very emotional when it comes to their favorite victors.
Katniss hugs him and Peeta immediately understands that this is so she can hide her face in his shoulder to compose herself. Katniss doesn't want these people to see her cry; wouldn't want to show them that weakness. Peeta puts his arms around her which sets off another round of applause. They stand like this for half a minute before Katniss pulls away.
She looks into Peeta's eyes and something passes between the two of them then. It's nothing like the type of feelings that should pass between a husband and wife on their wedding day, but there's something there. A sense of camaraderie, maybe. A feeling that whatever horrors they will face, at least they'll be facing them together.
And there will be horrors.
***
Peeta listened to his brothers' good-natured bickering. He caught Katniss's eye across the table, but she quickly looked away. They could barely look one another in the eye these days.
Peeta's family and Katniss's family were having dinner together at Katniss and Peeta's house. Peeta wasn't sure why anyone thought this was a good idea, but Katniss's mother had been so keen on it that Peeta had finally agreed. It was going better than Peeta would have expected. His family seemed to be on their best behavior tonight; even his mother was relatively pleasant. But this whole exercise still made Peeta uncomfortable. Iris Everdeen had insisted on the dinner because she said it was a shame that Katniss and Peeta were married and the families hadn't even met yet. But Peeta's "marriage" to Katniss was a sham at best and an abomination at worst. Doing the normal family thing just reminded Peeta of that fact.
"Bran," Rye said. "I know that Dad wants you to name your son Loaf. You can't name him Loaf. That's a horrible name."
They'd been arguing about bread names in a joking way for about five minutes. Normally, Peeta would have joined in with them. Tonight, he just took another bite of the delicious roast duck that Iris had prepared for the occasion. He glanced over at Bran's wife, Mary, who had a big belly. She could give birth any day now. Peeta remembered all the times that Snow had threatened his family and he shivered.
"It was my father's name," Dad said, but his eyes were twinkling in amusement. He seemed to be in a good mood. Peeta hadn't smelled alcohol on either of his parents tonight, which was always a positive.
"It's a fine name for a baker," Peeta's old Aunt Lorna said. Aunt Lorna was actually Peeta's great aunt, the sister of his paternal grandfather, the Loaf Mellark in question. Lorna had been contracted in marriage to a tailor since she was an infant and had married the man at age eighteen, but she never forgot that she was a baker's daughter.
"It's so … Loaf," Rye said.
"Mary," Rye said, turning to Bran's wife. "You don't really like the name Loaf, do you?"
"We're still discussing names," Mary said, diplomatically.
"What about you Grayne?" Rye said, pitching his voice high and talking to Bran's baby son in his high chair. "Do you want your little brother to be named Loaf?"
"Ra!" Grayne said, which was what he called Rye.
"I guess Loaf is a little lame," Bran said.
Peeta's father leaned back in his chair and regarded the two of them.
"Okay then, wise guys. How about this — we go around the table and everyone suggests a name for the baby for Bran and Mary to choose from."
There were a few groans, but several family members nodded as well. They'd done this with Grayne's name. "Grain" had been Rye's suggestion, actually, and Bran and Mary had changed the spelling. Aunt Lorna had been in fits over them using an untraditional spelling for the firstson's name. Peeta's name had an untraditional spelling as well, but he was the thirdson. He wouldn't inherit the bakery and prior to a few months ago, it was assumed that he'd never have children of his own.
"Well, you all know my pick," Peeta's father said, when he saw that they'd assented to this plan. "It's Loaf."
"Yawn," Rye said.
"Marta?" Peeta's father asked his mother, ignoring Rye.
Peeta's mother shrugged, running her hands through her blonde curls which she'd worn loose for this occasion.
"Panettone," she suggested.
"It's too long," Aunt Lorna said. "And it's pretentious." Aunt Lorna was known to dislike Peeta's mother, mostly for good reasons.
"They could shorten it to Tony or Pan for everyday use," Peeta's mother suggested.
"I kind of like Pan," Mary said. Peeta rather suspected that Mary didn't actually like all these bread names. Of course she didn't. She was a sane human.
"Good," Peeta's father said. "Aunt Lorna?"
"I think Loaf is a perfectly good name," Aunt Lorna said. Rye groaned.
"Can you think of another one, though?" Dad asked. "To give them some more options."
"How about Blondie?" Aunt Lorna asked.
Several people suppressed sharp, surprised laughter at this pronouncement. Across the table from Peeta, Katniss nearly choked on her drink.
"What?" Aunt Lorna asked, clearly surprised by their reactions. "Blondies were always my favorite item from the bakery and it fits because the baby will have blond hair."
No one disputed that the baby would have blond hair. Bran and Mary were both merchant, through and through. And the blondies at the bakery were delicious, though Peeta had always preferred their cousin, the brownies.
"Um, Aunt Lorna," Bran said, at last, "you know that blondie is what Seam kids call merchant kids in school when they think we're being particularly annoying."
"No," Lorna said, looking around at all of them. "They didn't do that when I was in school!"
"They did it when I was in school," Peeta's mother commented.
"When I was a kid, merchie was the insult," Lorna said.
"Merchie is still used sometimes," Bran said. "But it's sharper than blondie. Merchie is saying that you're a thieving merchant. Blondie just means that you're getting on everyone's nerves. I've even heard it used somewhat affectionately."
"Hmph," Lorna said. She glanced down the table at Katniss's family. Peeta had the impression that she would have said more if they weren't sitting there. Lorna was quite old and had gone to school in the earliest days after the rebellion, when the merchants had first been located to the districts.
Lorna herself had been born in District 12, but her father, Alfred Mellark, had been from District 1 like all the original merchants. The long-dead Alfred hadn't had a baker's name because he hadn't been born a baker — he'd been a soldier for the Capitol during the rebellion. This was the origin of the merchant class, not only in District 12, but in all the districts. During the rebellion,the Capitol's military had recruited heavily from District 1. After the rebellion, the Capitol had chosen to reward those who had served faithfully by granting them the only business licenses in the districts that weren't held by Capitolites and even giving them a bit of money to start their trades. This had the intended effect of forcing district natives, like the people of the Seam, into only the most insecure and impoverished jobs. There had been a lot of real violence between the merchants and the district natives in the early days.
Of course, the fact that Peeta's ancestors had served the Capitol during the rebellion hadn't exempted him from the Hunger Games.
"You didn't know," Peeta's father said to Lorna. "But they can't name the boy Blondie. He'd never stop being teased. Do you have another suggestion?"
Aunt Lorna threw up her hands in exasperation. "Fine. How about your name then, Barley? If they don't want to name the child after his great-grandfather then he should be named after his grandfather."
"Barley, fine," Dad said, although Peeta knew that he didn't want his grandkids named after him. He'd said as much when they'd picked Grayne's name. "Next. Rise?"
Peeta's Uncle Rise took a bite of his duck, thoughtfully. Rise was his father's brother, but he was closer in age to Bran than to Peeta's parents. He'd been a late-life baby. Rise was broad-shouldered and handsome and he could always make people smile. He'd been born a thirdson himself, although his eldest brother had died when he was quite young.
"Cupcake," Rise said, after a long moment of reflection.
"Rise. Be serious," Dad said.
"I am being serious. Cupcakes are my favorite. Although, on second thought, maybe we shouldn't name him after my favorite baked good. I wouldn't want to show favoritism among my nephews."
"A name, Rise," Dad said.
"Pumpkin."
"Rise!"
"After those delicious seasonal pastries we make in the autumn."
"The baby isn't going to be born in autumn," said Mary, who often had a difficult time catching on to Rise's jokes.
"How about Buttercream?"
"I like it," Primrose piped up. "I have a cat named Buttercup."
But even Prim seemed to get that Rise was joking and she was giggling as she spoke.
"Now you're all just being silly," Dad said.
"How about Pizza?" Rise asked.
"That one isn't even a baker's name," Rye said.
"Pizzas are baked," Rise protested.
"I think Pizza is too close to Peeta's name," Mary said. "We don't want a repeat of the Rise/Rye situation."
"Tell me about it," Rye said. Rise and Rye's names were similar enough that calling one meant the other one sometimes came running.
"I don't know," Rise said, with a wink in Peeta's direction. "Peeta might like to have a little nephew with a similar name. We could even do the double "e" thing with the spelling. Everyone knows that we have a Peeta Mellark. But will anyone be expecting us to have a Peeza Mellark?"
"We don't sell pizzas at the bakery," Dad said, with a bit of a smile.
"We should," Rise said. "Everyone loves pizzas."
"No one's naming the baby Peeza," Dad said. "Rise, please. A non-ridiculous suggestion of a name for your grandnephew."
"They're all ridiculous, Barley," Rise objected.
Dad gave him a look.
"Fine. Uh, Fondant?"
This sounded only slightly less silly than the others to Peeta's ear, but his father nodded approvingly.
"Maybe Peeta and Katniss will want to use that one," Mary suggested. "Since Peeta was always so keen on the decorating and all."
There was an immediate change in the mood of the room. Iris frowned and Katniss's hand flew down to her belly. Peeta's father cleared his throat in an uncomfortable way. They'd managed to go most of the evening without anyone bringing up the fact that Katniss was pregnant. Unlike Mary, she wasn't showing yet. Most days, Peeta chose not to think about the fact that she was pregnant. Katniss herself rarely brought it up.
"You don't have to worry about that," Peeta said, because everyone seemed to expect him to say something. "Our baby isn't going to have a baker's name."
This statement got Peeta several shocked looks from his family members.
"We haven't discussed names," Katniss said, apologetically. "We don't even know whether it's going to be a boy or a girl yet. What is fondant, anyway?"
"It's a type of icing that you can roll out—" Bran began.
"It doesn't matter," Peeta interrupted. "Because the baby isn't going to have a baker's name."
Peeta didn't pretend that he would have a lot of say over the naming of his child. For all he knew, Snow would let Capitolites vote on names in the same way that they'd voted on Katniss's wedding dress. But surely he could veto the idea of the baby being named after baked goods. It was his family's ridiculous tradition, after all. Besides, what right did his family have to demand that he follow the tradition when they'd never intended for him to marry or have children at all? Unlike Bran and Rye, Peeta had never been given a marriage contract.
"Um, why not, Peeta?" Bran asked.
"Because its parents are victors, not bakers," Peeta said, shortly. The real reasons were too numerous to explain and this seemed the fastest way to get his family to drop it.
"We … haven't discussed names," Katniss repeated, giving Peeta a warning look. Peeta raised an eyebrow at her. Surely, Katniss didn't want to give the baby a baker's name?
"Okay, okay, we get it," Rye said. "We weren't even talking about your kid, anyway. We were discussing names for Bran and Mary's baby. Who's next?"
"Cider?" Dad asked, turning to Uncle Rise's boyfriend. "A name?"
"Oh, uh, I don't know," Cider said. Peeta felt sorry for the people who weren't even born into this family, but were being asked to come up with these awful names.
"Cider wants to name the baby Peeza," Rise said. Cider elbowed him in the ribs good-naturedly. Rise and Cider had been together since Peeta was a little kid. They weren't married because same-sex marriages weren't legal in the districts, but Peeta had always thought that they seemed more like a married couple than his own parents.
"I very much doubt that," Dad said. "Cider, a name?"
"Just answer him," Peeta said. "He won't stop until you do."
"Um. How about Marble?" Cider asked. "Cakes can be marble, right?"
"Yes. Or breads," Bran said.
"I think there was a kid named Marble in the Games a few years ago," Rye commented. "From District 1."
There was another long, awkward silence.
"Let's not talk about the Games," Iris said, at last. Her voice was firm.
"I agree," Dad said. "Who's next? Rye?"
"How about Pastry?" Rye asked.
"That's your big suggestion?" Peeta asked, getting drawn into the discussion in spite of himself. "You were giving everyone grief over the name Loaf, but Pastry was your brilliant contribution?"
Several people smiled. Peeta realized that they'd been waiting for him to show an interest in the conversation. They'd thought he was being sullen. And they'd thought that sullenness wasn't like him.
"You were almost named Pastry," Rise commented with some amusement.
Peeta looked at his father who nodded.
"Afraid so, kid," he said.
"Wow, I've never been so glad to be named Peeta," Peeta said.
"I'll remind you lot that I picked the winning name for Grayne," Rye said.
"Pastry is a perfectly fine name," Dad said. "Next. Delly?"
Delly and Rye had been engaged since they were both babies in a typical merchant marriage contract. Delly was Peeta's age and they'd always been good friends. Delly and Rye both used to complain incessantly about having to marry one another, but something had changed while Peeta was away at the Games. They seemed to actually like one another now. As Peeta watched, Rye put a gentle hand on Delly's arm. Weird. Very weird.
"How about Wheat?" Delly asked. "You could even do the double "e" thing like with Peeta's name if you wanted."
"Wheeta," Rise suggested, with a sly look in Peeta's direction.
"Mary, Bran," Peeta said. "If you name that poor baby Wheeta then I won't be responsible for my actions."
"Wheat is a fine suggestion," Dad said. "We considered that one for Bran."
Peeta saw Bran shudder.
"Who's next?" Dad asked. "Primrose?"
"Me?" Prim asked, seemingly surprised to be called on.
"Sure, why not?" Dad asked. "I'll bet you have a baby name suggestion."
"And it's supposed to be a type of bread?" Prim asked.
"It can be anything to do with baking," Bran explained. "Like how Rise is named Rise because bread rises when it bakes. It can be a process, an ingredient, a finished product … as long as it relates back to baking."
"Okay," Prim said, slowly. "How about Crescent?"
They all looked at one another in confusion.
"Um, it needs to be related to baking, Prim," Delly said, gently.
"Isn't that the name of those little crescent-shaped rolls? I love those," Prim said.
"Oh, you mean a croissant," Rye commented.
Prim shrugged. "Everyone in the Seam just calls them crescents."
Peeta shot a sidelong glance down to the table to see if any of his more obnoxious family members would use this opportunity to make a snide comment about the Seam. But they were all quiet. Not even a peep from Peeta's mother. Peeta saw Aunt Lorna's lips tighten dangerously, but she didn't say a word. It was like they were actually trying.
"I sort of like Crescent," Mary offered, at last.
"Great," Dad said. "Next? Katniss?"
"Oh, I don't think I'd be good with names," Katniss said, quickly.
"Come on, Katniss," Rye said. "It's like Peeta said. Dad won't stop until he gets a name out of you."
Dad nodded in confirmation.
"I don't know," Katniss said, looking at her plate.
"Well," Rye pressed. "What's your favorite thing from the bakery?"
"Katniss's favorite is the cheese buns," Prim said, with a giggle.
"Little Cheesebun Mellark," Rise said. "I like it, personally."
"Um, how about Slice?" Katniss suggested, before Rise could start suggesting more ridiculous names. "Like how a cake or bread can be sliced?"
"Huh," Dad said, chewing on his food in a thoughtful manner."I never thought of that one. It's good, though."
"Yeah," Katniss said. "It has the baker meaning. But it also has a bit of an edge to it. In case the kid is ever reaped, I mean."
There was another moment of silence during which the only sound was Mary's fork loudly clattering on her plate.
"Excuse me," Mary murdered, after a moment. She stood, her hand placed firmly over her pregnant belly, and promptly fled the room.
"Mary!" Bran called after her.
"I'm sorry," Katniss said, looking around. "I didn't mean—"
"It's alright, Katniss," Peeta said, shooting his father a glare. "Dad's the one who asked you for a name. No one should be surprised that you answered."
"Yes, it was my fault," Dad said, easily enough.
"I know we said we weren't talking about the Games tonight," Katniss said, with a glance at her mother. "It's just — they seem to be all I think about these days."
"That's completely understandable, Katniss," Bran said. "The Games were just hard on Mary. We've been contracted since we were babies, so she's known Peeta since he was born. And with Grayne, it was hard not to imagine that — well, that one day it might be your own kid. It hits differently for a parent."
Peeta glared at Bran.
"I'm pretty sure that the Games were hard on Katniss as well," he said, pointedly.
"I know," Bran said, turning pale. "I'm so sorry, Katniss. But I should go check on Mary now."
"Of course you should," Iris said when neither Peeta nor Katniss seemed able to formulate a reply. Bran got up from his seat and walked toward the kitchen where Mary had disappeared.
"I'm feeling under the weather," Katniss muttered, stroking her stomach with one hand. "Can I be excused as well?"
Peeta recognized this as an attempt to get out of dinner. Katniss hadn't had much sickness from her pregnancy yet. She was also a terrible liar. But Peeta couldn't blame her for wanting this to end as early as possible.
"Of course, honey," Iris said. "Are you in pain?"
"No, no pain," Katniss said, quickly. "I just feel a bit tired … and not quite well."
"Do you need me to see you upstairs?" Peeta asked, although he already knew that Katniss would refuse.
"No, no," Katniss said. "I can make it."
She stood and walked out of the dining room, taking care not to go through the kitchen where Bran and Mary had gone. Peeta figured that she would lock herself in her room for awhile. Her room, not their room because it truly was a fake marriage despite the very real pregnancy. Or maybe she'd find a way to slip out the back. It was probably too late for her to go hunting, but Katniss always seemed most comfortable out-of-doors.
The rest of the meal was subdued. Dad didn't continue asking for baby names. In fact, no one talked about babies anymore at all. Bran and Mary came back inside for dessert; Mary's eyes were red and puffy. Everyone perked up a bit when it was time for dessert and Peeta's dad brought out one of the carrot cakes from the bakery. Peeta took a few bites of his cake and then excused himself. As he stood up, he realized that they probably all thought he was going to check on Katniss. He wasn't. Katniss probably wouldn't want him checking on her right now.
Instead, Peeta stepped outside and breathed in the cold air. Why had simple tasks become so difficult after the Games? He used to be the sort of person who did well at group events. It was dark and cold out. The stars were bright tonight. Peeta could hear the soft sounds of someone singing down in the Seam. Victor's Village was closer to the Seam than his father's bakery had been and as a result, Peeta could often hear someone singing. Seam people often sang. Peeta closed his eyes and listened to the high, mournful voice for a few seconds.
"Psst," someone said.
Peeta opened his eyes.
"Psst," the voice said again. Peeta looked to his left and saw that it was Haymitch, seated on his own front stoop and beckoning Peeta. Peeta walked over to him.
"Boy," Haymitch said. "You having some big party tonight?"
Peeta rolled his eyes. "Just my family and Katniss's family eating dinner. We invited you, you know."
Haymitch waved this off.
"That about done?" he asked. "The dinner, I mean."
"We're having dessert," Peeta said. "So yeah. Why?"
"I need to talk to you and the girl about something," Haymitch said. He was pacing, agitated — but the liquor smell on him wasn't any stronger than usual. "I'll come over when the others leave."
"Talk to me now," Peeta said, trying to make his voice sound casual. His heart was beating fast. Whatever Haymitch had to tell him wasn't good, that was for sure.
But Haymitch shook his head. "After dinner. Try to get the others to leave as fast as you can, alright?"
"Alright," Peeta said. Before he could ask anymore questions, Haymitch walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him.
Peeta went back into his own house and finished his piece of cake. His dad made excellent carrot cakes, but Peeta couldn't enjoy it. After dinner, several people seemed intent on helping with the dishes. Rye and Delly ended up helping Peeta do them, both of them chatting amiably. They seemed to realize that Peeta wasn't in a great mood, but Peeta hadn't been in a great mood all night.
When they were done washing the dishes, Peeta had to assure Katniss's mother and sister several times that she just needed rest and that he would check up on her. They'd both already checked on her in the few minutes that Peeta had been outside, but Katniss's mother had mentioned the possibility of Prim spending the night. Prim had spent the night at their house before and usually Peeta wouldn't mind, but he had a feeling that Haymitch wouldn't want Prim around for the conversation that he needed to have with them. Peeta discouraged the idea as politely as he could.
Iris and Prim seemed to take the hint, but Iris told Peeta rather pointedly that they'd be right next door if needed. Iris and Prim lived in the house that had been assigned to Katniss. Katniss lived with Peeta since they were supposed to be married and all.
Everyone hadn't been gone two minutes before Haymitch knocked on the back door. Peeta let him in and he promptly sat down at the kitchen table. Peeta went upstairs to get Katniss and found her door closed and locked. He knocked.
"I said I'm fine, Mom!" Katniss's muffled voice came through the door.
"Your mom already left," Peeta said. "It's me. Haymitch is downstairs. He needs to talk to both of us."
Katniss threw open her bedroom door. She had changed into long, comfortable looking pajamas and her hair was mussed as if she truly had been resting.
"What does Haymitch want?" she asked.
"Don't know," Peeta said, shrugging and trying to sound casual. He didn't want Katniss freaking out about this as much as he was. "Let's go find out."
Katniss didn't bother to change back into clothes. She followed Peeta downstairs, her bare feet padding nearly silently against their fine, hardwood floor. They both sat at the kitchen table, facing Haymitch.
"Well?" Katniss asked when Haymitch didn't immediately speak. "What is it?"
"You both know what victors are expected to do in the Capitol," Haymitch said. His voice was low and uncharacteristically grave — lacking in its usual edge of sarcasm.
"You mean the whoring thing?" Katniss asked, never one to mince words.
"Yeah. That," Haymitch said. "And you know it's been my plan to try to delay that as long as possible for both of you. Hopefully to even delay it until after the next Games. Until after the baby is born. You know that I asked the Office of Victors' Affairs to give you both medical leave from activities in the Capitol until after the baby is born."
Peeta watched in alarm as Haymitch looked down at their kitchen table and then took a flask out of his jacket pocket. He took a long swig of white liquor.
"Well, I'm guessing from the way you're acting that they didn't grant the leave," Katniss said, in a flat, hopeless tone.
"Katniss—" Haymitch started.
"I don't see why anyone would want to buy a pregnant girl anyway," Katniss said. "But I guess some people are into that sort of thing."
"Some people are, but—"
"How long do we have?" Peeta asked.
"They are so fucking evil," Katniss said, in a low voice. "To make us stay in the Capitol around those freaks when the baby is born—"
"Katniss!" Haymitch interrupted in a loud voice. Her eyes snapped up to look at him. "They granted the leave."
They both looked at him in confusion for a moment before he went on.
"But only for Katniss."
It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, a strange feeling of shocked numbness came over Peeta that he could only compare to how he'd felt when he'd been reaped. They'd granted Katniss leave, but not him. He was going to the Capitol to be sex trafficked.
"Oh," he said, in a quiet voice.
Katniss was more vocal.
"What?" she snapped. "Haymitch! You can't send him there alone! We've always done everything together."
She shot a brief glance in Peeta's direction, her cheeks turning red.
"Sweetheart, I'm not sending him anywhere," Haymitch snapped back. "The Capitol is. I think it's been thoroughly explained to the both of you why victors do this. You know the consequences if you don't do this thing."
"Prim," Katniss breathed. "They'll kill Prim."
Peeta's eyes stayed downcast. It wasn't just Prim, of course. Both of their families were in danger. But Katniss's mind always tended to go to Prim first for understandable reasons.
"It's okay, Katniss," Peeta said, feeling very far away from his body. It was like the day he was reaped. Or like the day they were married. "It makes sense that they'd give you the leave. You're the one who is actually pregnant, after all."
"They should give the leave to both of us!" Katniss said, turning back to Haymitch.
"I don't know what to fucking tell you, sweetheart," Haymitch said. "They should give it to both of you, you're right. In an ideal world they wouldn't be doing this at all. In an ideal world, the Games wouldn't fucking exist. But this isn't an ideal world."
Katniss's lips drew into a thin line.
"We're lucky that they've even given you the medical leave," Haymitch said. "I didn't think they would. I've seen them send pregnant victors to the Capitol before now."
Haymitch gave Peeta a significant look and Peeta suddenly understood. If they kicked up a fuss about Peeta being sent then the result could very well be that Victors' Affairs would revoke Katniss's leave and send her to the Capitol as well.
"It's fine, Katniss," Peeta said. "I have to do it eventually anyway, right?"
Haymitch nodded. He'd already told them both that no victor was ever completely exempted from this "duty."
"Well, I might as well start now as later," Peeta said. "How long do I have, Haymitch?"
"They're sending a train for you in two days," Haymitch said. "But … you won't start having actual appointments with clients for more than two months."
Peeta's eyebrows shot up. That was a surprise. What reason could they have for delaying things for two months after he was sent to the Capitol?
"Why two months?" Katniss said, echoing Peeta's confusion.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to talk to you two about that as well," Haymitch said, taking another drink from his flask. "See, we don't just throw new victors to these clients without any warning or preparation. We give you some … training in how to handle clients. Training of a sexual nature if you catch my drift."
Katniss turned bright red. Peeta was pretty sure that he was blushing as well though he was usually better at hiding his emotions than Katniss.
"Victors' Affairs actually agrees with us on this — they don't want you untrained for these appointments either because you're more likely to fuck them up if you're untrained. They like to keep the clients happy. So … a person is assigned to train you in how to please the clients sexually. We call this person your tutor."
"A tutor?" Katniss asked, sounding disgusted. "A sex tutor? So some Capitol weirdo is supposed to teach Peeta how to have sex for two months—"
"Not some Capitol weirdo," Haymitch interrupted. "A victor. This is something that the victors have decided to do for one another. We prefer to be trained by another victor rather than 'some Capitol weirdo' as you so aptly put it, Katniss."
"Another victor. Who?" Katniss demanded. Then, she looked at Haymitch with something like horror dawning on her face. "You?"
"No, not me, sweetheart," Haymitch said, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to worry about that. But someone who I pick. The mentor picks the tutor. That's how it works."
"Who have you picked?" Peeta asked. He could tell that Haymitch had already chosen someone.
"I've picked Finnick Odair," Haymitch said. "For both of you, not just Peeta. Until earlier today I was working under the assumption that you'd need to be trained at the same time."
There was a long moment of silence.
"Finnick Odair?" Katniss asked. "Really? You expect him to just … have sex with Finnick Odair?"
"You say that like most of the country isn't dying to have sex with him," Haymitch said, wryly.
"You might as well have picked a Capitol weirdo," Katniss snapped. "Finnick Odair does nothing but party in the Capitol with a succession of freakish lovers—"
"Are you really this dense, Katniss?" Haymitch interrupted. "I know that you can be clever when you actually stop and fucking think for more than two seconds. You already know that all the victors are whored out. And you already know that what the Capitol shows on television about our lives is pretty far from the truth. So what makes you think you know anything about Finnick from watching television?"
Katniss's eyes narrowed. She seemed to be deep in thought for a few moments.
"They're clients?" she asked, at last. "Finnick's lovers are clients?"
"Bingo," Haymitch said, taking another long drink from his flask. "She finally gets it."
"Okay," Katniss said, slowly. "But still … do we really need to do this tutor thing? I mean, Peeta probably isn't even interested in guys."
Before Peeta could correct her, Haymitch spoke again.
"It doesn't matter whether he's interested in guys, sweetheart. What are you not getting about the situation? He'll need to have sex with men whether he's attracted to them or not."
Katniss crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's fine, Katniss," Peeta said. Now that he thought about it, he supposed that he should be a tad bit relieved that his appointments wouldn't start for a few months.
Haymitch looked at Peeta and softened considerably.
"Listen, boy. I know the whole situation is fucked up. But Finnick will be good for you. For both of you, eventually. He knows this world better than anyone, knows the current client list backwards and forwards, and … he's a good guy. He's the best possible choice for this. I really believe that."
Peeta nodded. Katniss still looked mutinous.
"It seems like we should have been consulted about this tutor thing," she said. "Why don't we get to pick the person?"
"And who would you pick?" Haymitch said. Katniss flushed and didn't answer.
"You don't know any victors other than Peeta and myself, sweetheart," Haymitch said. "What makes you think you're in a position to choose? It's not — no one is doing this because they get off on it, okay? You think Finnick doesn't have better things to do than teach a couple of snot-nosed teenagers to fuck? He's doing me and the both of you a big favor by agreeing to do this, believe me. No one takes on tutoring lightly."
"So, that's it then," Katniss said. "There's nothing we can do? He's just supposed to go to the Capitol and get whored out."
Her voice wavered on the last words. Peeta blinked in surprise. She was on the verge of tears. He hadn't expected her to get so emotional about the idea of Peeta being sent alone. If anything, he might have expected her to be secretly relieved that she wasn't going herself. But Katniss had always been a caring person at heart.
"It's okay," Peeta said, gently. "I've known for some time that I would need to do this for my family … and for you and the baby. And if Haymitch thinks Finnick Odair is the best choice for this tutor thing then maybe he is."
He reached out to take her hand, but she jerked away.
"Sorry," Peeta said, looking down at the table.
"It's already all decided, I guess," Katniss said, shortly. "There's no point in talking about it anymore."
With these words, she stood up and stormed out of the room.
"Well, that went well," Haymitch said, after they both sat in silence for a moment.
"Yeah."
"She's worried about you, kid. She just has a poor way of showing it."
Peeta shrugged. "Okay. I guess I'll need to say goodbye to family and friends before I leave? I … don't know how I'll explain this. How does the Capitol plan on explaining me and Katniss being away from one another for so long when we're supposed to be in love? And having a baby?"
"Don't know yet," Haymitch said. "But I'm sure they'll manage. My guess is that they just won't bring it up. People expect to see victors in the Capitol in the year following a victory. It won't necessarily seem strange that you're there if they don't think about it too much. But yeah, you'll need to say your goodbyes. You won't be back for months. Probably not until after the 75th Games."
"I won't be here when the baby is born," Peeta observed.
Haymitch shrugged. "Probably not. I'll try to talk them into letting you come home for the birth, but given that the kid is due right around the time of the next Games — I doubt they'll go for it. They'll want one of you mentoring in the Capitol, if nothing else."
"The Hunger Games take precedence over everything."
"As always," Haymitch said, bitterly.
"And … it'll be just me going to the Capitol, right?" Peeta asked. "You won't be coming either? At least, not until it's time for the next Games."
"Right," Haymitch said. "I would come with you, but I haven't been summoned and victors don't go to the Capitol unless summoned. Effie will be with you on the train, though. And I'm having Finnick meet you at the station. So you won't be alone."
"Okay," Peeta said, but he actually hadn't been asking because he thought he needed a chaperone. He just really didn't know how he was going to explain his sudden desire to go to the Capitol all by himself to anyone in District 12.
"Peeta. It'll be …" he trailed off.
"What? Okay?" Peeta asked, skeptically.
"No. Not exactly. But every victor has had to do this and every victor has survived it. You'll get through it. Victors are survivors if nothing else."
"Not so sure that's true of me," Peeta said, trying for a smile.
"It is. Listen, I'll leave you alone now. Give you time to process all this."
"Sure," Peeta said.
Haymitch clapped him on the shoulder, briefly, and then stood. He walked to the door, but turned before leaving.
"I'm sorry, Peeta," he said, quietly.