𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

── the miner's daughter

       𝔐arriage was some form of a requirement for District Eleven. Most didn't want it, not wishing to have children and force them to live in the same hellscape that we had done, but we barely had a choice. Just like in most districts, I would have had the right to marry whoever I wanted, but not marrying was never an option.

We needed someone to take over the farm when I died, we needed to be able to continue moving forward and having enough people to do the harvests and look after the animals. That was non-negotiable, especially in the eyes of the Capitol.

When Cato proposed the idea of being married, I had agreed almost on instinct. Not just because it would keep the others off of our back, keep the Capitol from getting suspicious and appease Snow, but because, in all honesty, marrying Cato was not horrible. He understood me, and he knew me. We had spent an extended period of time thinking that we were going to die, starving in an arena with twenty-two other tributes, and that changed a person. 

After Cato had said it, I had merely chuckled and patted his chest, agreeing before I curled back down beside him.

"No kids though." I mumbled. "Not yet, let it all die down first otherwise our kid's gonna get reaped as soon as they hit twelve."

"Why'd you think that?" I opened my eyes, unsure of whether he was being slow or he hadn't thought of the possibility. "We've been models of excellence for all victors. No rebelling at all."

He whispered that last part in my ear, trapping me into his arms a little further to make sure that no one could see his lips move or hear what he said. I laugh at his little quip.

As much as he and I joke about it, the next step that Snow would ask for is for children. Unless I manage to conveniently persuade a doctor to tell him that I have been stabbed through the uterus, or there is an issue with one of us, he would expect a pregnancy from me. Then, when the child was old enough, he'd reap them into the arena because what was better than killing a normal twelve year old in the arena, killing a twelve year old who was the offspring of the only two victors from one game obviously.

"I'll have to find a ring." Cato muttered, before letting his head hit the pillow. "I'll speak with my mother when we visit Two."

"We're visiting Two?"

"As I don't live there anymore, then it counts as a Victory Tour stop. That should be interesting."

"Have you spoken to your family?"

"Inter-district communication is a little hard." Cato sighed, before leaning closer and squeezing her a little tighter. "But, they'll see me soon."

I hum in agreement and that's all it takes before we're falling asleep. My eyes had only been closed for a moment before Aurelia threw the curtains open, walking in with no shame or care.

"Mitzi! You're still in bed!" I opened one eye, turning to the clock. It was milking time at the farm, but I had assumed that as this was a break, I could sleep in longer. "Come on, up, up! You too, Cato! It's a big, big day!"

Cato groans, both of us huffing as we get up. Cato showers first as I stretch my body out, going through a range of movements to wake myself, and my muscles back up. Ever helpful, Cato steps over my back as I'm in the plank, attempting to yank my arm out from beneath me in the process as he searches for clothes in the closet.

"Cato, you-" I groan, stopping after a moment to glare at the man. He's in only a towel, his hair damp and in front of his face, a grin plastered across it as he chuckles. It's one of the laughs that is only Cato, not the victor, just Cato and the little gleam in his eye that I adored so much was back if only momentarily. I poke his stomach, heading to shower myself as both of us have a long and trying day ahead of.

District Twelve lies ahead. It's always the first stop in the Victory Tour, starting at Twelve and then descending until it reaches One before moving onto the Capitol. As there are two winning districts this year, Two is before the Capitol and then Eleven for our final celebrations. But Twelve being first poses a slight problem. Cato had killed Katniss, stealing her pendant to give to me, and the both of us had worked together to kill Peeta.

I felt terrible about both of the people that I had killed in the arena. Despite knowing that Clove was trying to kill me, she was my first kill and she was small, so small and so light. I had been used to killing cattle and knowing the strength that needed, but that force hadn't been necessary for her and I'd pushed the knife to the hilt, straight through her skull. She had family, friends, perhaps a boyfriend at her home that never saw her again. I wanted to know their names but Cato refused to tell me. Peeta's kill was a mercy kill, but at night, I could still remember what he had looked like, the gore of it all on screen as the mutts tore him to pieces. The difference was, both of my kills occurred because I was trying to stay alive. 

Most of Cato's kills, on the other hand, were due to him hunting others down, Katniss included, and I knew that weighed far more on his shoulders than anything else.

This Victory Tour was going to be hell for him, because I knew the guilt he faced and he would have to put on the face of a victor for all of it. He had never been taught how to cope with death, never having really seen it, whereas I had grown up hand in hand with it, seeing it as a friend and a saviour, more than a foe. I had come to peace with the fact that I had killed. Yes, their deaths were haunting, but it was a necessity.

The only death that played on my conscious was Thresh. He was the only one who haunted me, knowing that if he and I had stayed together, if I hadn't of found Cato, then he and I could have won on the technicality of being from the same district and both of us could have gone home.

There are outfits laid out on the bed for me, by the time that I had come out of the shower. I slip into them with ease, the top a white linen and the pants warm. I know that somewhere, there'll be a coat for me to wear to speak to Twelve. The main city of Eleven was a far more northern part than most believed, so froze over and got cold in the winter, though it was nothing compared to Twelve.

"I was just coming to find you." Cato calls, as both of us emerge at either end of a train car. "Breakfast is being served. Come on."

"Coming." I hurry after him, joining the others in the dining car as we eat. We're quick to eat it, before I'm whisked away for prep. By the time it gets to lunch, I would rather be knee deep in a slurry pit than here, and as soon as I can afterwards, I disappear once more. There's only so much of the Capitol accent that I can endure before I start to get a headache.

Cato finds me at the back of the train a few minutes later, handing me a glass of water and a tablet for the pain, before slumping down next to me. We're silent for a moment, both of us watching the world go past behind us.

"I miss Mick and Cas." Cato says, huffing. "I know they do have jobs, but I enjoy them being around now. It's weird to not have black and tan blurs to trip over."

I laugh at that. In the first week that Cato joined me, he tripped over Mick constantly, not used to watching his feet for the large dog who had taken a liking to him. Count on him to be able to make me laugh despite the tiredness that I was already feeling.

"When we get home, we'll get another. A slightly smaller one that is an official house dog."

"I thought you'd suggest a house cow for a moment. Cream Cheese junior."

"There's only one Cream Cheese." We fell silent for a moment.

"You alright?"

"I-"

"Rooftop honest not camera honest." He shoots back before I have a chance to tell him I'm fine. It's a saying that he uses when I start to shut myself off a bit. When we're in front of cameras, one or both of us is having to hide our feelings or lie, but on the rooftop, that was safe and we could speak so now, if we felt the other was hiding something, rooftop honest was said, to remind them that it was just us, not the victors, or anything else, but Mitzi and Cato. He used it more than me if I was honest, as he naturally picked up more on my moods and I naturally tried to shut myself off.

"I feel like a plucked bird. They have waxed everything, so I am in pain and the Capitol accents are starting to get to me. I forgot how grating they were."

"I'll stop talking then."

"Not yours, yours is lilting, it's pretty." Cato smiles at that, before shaking his hair out as I find his hand. I begin to fiddle with his fingers, tracing each scar and knuckle, though there are none on his right considering it was the arm that was taken from him. He takes that as a sign, pulling me slightly closer so that he can lean his forehead against mine, before kissing my head softly. 

"Only a week and a half of this, then, we go home, back to the farm." I smiled at that, finding it sweet that he considered the farm part of his home, despite his lack of knowledge about the animals. 

"It'll be calving season soon." We turn back to the window, watching as woods start to appear, rising up around us. My eyes narrow, before we dip into a tunnel. "We're here. We're leaving Eleven into Twelve."

The doors slammed shut and I look around, having stood up. We come out on the other side almost immediately, away from the harsh walls of barbed wire and enforced steel that kept District Eleven in.

It was cold and grey, the sky overcast. There were plumes of smoke coming from further to the north, the houses run down and people stopping to watch the train zip past. Everything was covered in a thin layer of coal dust and there was a lack of peacekeepers to be seen. In Eleven, normally there was five in each field to oversee the harvest.

We used to have a few on the farm, but they had been taken away soon after, not being able to keep up with the constant production and changes of the farm, or how much we all moved about it.

"It's so small." Cato mutters as we come into the station. "It's tiny."

Both Eleven and Two are big districts. For us, there's a pre-reaping each year, where people are chosen from the amount of Tesserae they put in and made to travel to the centre of each District if they don't live close enough. I was unfortunate enough to be born near the District capital so didn't have a choice. I was reaped either way. Cato's reaping groups were picked from the academies of Two, though they had already had a pre-reaping to pick who would be their champion that year. It meant that before the games had even started, Cato had beaten out the toughest competitors in his years to be the tribute for the games.

"There's so little security." I follow that up with. Cato and I go to find our mentors and our escorts, both of us being separated to go over our points.

"Stick to the script. Don't deviate." Geare warns as Jasmine nods. I assume both of them are up to speed with the fact that Cato and I cause issues for everyone and Snow was threatening us. "The mayor will speak and then you do, wave but don't interact further. Both tributes families will be there, don't make it personal."

"I want to speak to Katniss' sister."

"You can't." Jasmine pointed out.

"She asked me to. I'm not going to ignore what was one of her dying wishes." I say back. "I want to give her back Katniss' token, you know that most people normally don't get their family token back but I have hers, and the little girl should have it."

Both of my mentors paused, huffed and shook their heads. I cocked an eyebrow. I wasn't going to change my mind on this and either I did it with their approval, or I snuck away.

"The Capitol won't like it."

"I don't care. I am not forgoing her dying wish. It can be quick, a minute or two before the speech or something. I just need to give it to her and say that I'm sorry, it will barely take ten seconds." In Eleven, death rituals were honoured traditions, and to disrespect someone's dying wish was considered worse that treason in some cases.

"I'll see what strings I can pull." Jasmine muttered. "Twelve might be more lax in security, but don't take that for granted."

I hum, but shrug all the same, final touch ups being done as we get ready to exit the train. We're all packed into cars to be driven to their Justice Building, which was just as run down as I had seen on the reaping videos. Once we get there, we're led inside to wait for another half an hour until we're called up. I'm sitting next to Cato, Enobaria and Geare with us when Jasmine opens the door.

"A minute." Is all she says and I'm nodding, standing to take my necklace off and follow her out.

"Mitz..." Cato reaches for me and I turn.

"Just got to fix my makeup before the speech. I'll be one minute." He watches my eyes, his own narrowing, before he leans back.

"I hope you find your stylist team quickly." Jasmine and I hurry off as I pull the mockingjay charm off of the necklace, getting ready to hand it over.

"Thank you for waiting." Jasmine speaks to someone and I look past her at the small teenager. She's thin, most likely partly starving, blonde hair so different from her sister's, twisted up behind her in braids. Unlike her sister, there's not as much distrust in her eyes. 

"Hi." Jasmine steps out for a moment. "I don't have much time, but I had to see you before I left Twelve, just you because..."

"Because Katniss asked you to..." When she speaks, she's quiet, barely filling the room and she reminds me so much of Rue that it makes me want to cry. I understand why Katniss volunteered now, because this girl would have died in that arena. "She asked you to look after me."

"Yeah." I nod. "She did."

The girl, Prim I think her name was, sniffs likes she's about to cry.

"I wanted to give you something. I know most people don't get these back, but this was Katniss'. Her mockingjay pin. I think you should have it." I hand it over to her, pressing it into her hands that are pale and shaking, so small compared to my own. "She would have wanted you to have it."

"It didn't bring her luck." Prim whispers, her head dropping as I sigh. 

"Maybe, it'll bring you that luck instead." I step back, smoothing my clothes out. She's brushing at her eyes and I sigh, wanting to do more but knowing that if the Capitol caught wind of this, Prim, her mother and her cat would be dead and so would mine. I step back, slipping my necklace back on when she catches my hand.

"Katniss would have wanted you to have it, not me." Prim pushes it between my fingers, gripping onto my hand tight. "You won for her and for me. You keep it. It brought you luck."

"Prim-" I try to refuse.

"It's yours." She stepped back, before turning to back away as I sighed and slid it back onto my necklace. She sits on the sofa, waiting for her call to go out and onto the stage to stand beneath her sister's name and watch the man who killed her make a speech. I wonder if this is the same couch that her sister had sat on month's earlier.

"The back of your shirt is not tucked in." Is all I say, sliding the brooch back onto my necklace and placing it under my shirt. I open the door, stepping out. It's through the gap when I close it that I see Prim start to cry, but there's nothing more I can do, hurrying back to Jasmine and the others as if nothing had happened.

"Did you fix your makeup?" Cato is the one to question me, hovering by my side.

"All fixed." I smile back, patting his chest. "Let's get this over and done with."

We're introduced to the crowd, both of us forcing ourselves back into our persona, as Cato places his hand onto my back, smiles magically appearing on our faces as we're received with smattered applause. There are two banners, video footage of Peeta and Katniss, and beneath them stand the families of the dead tributes. Katniss's mother looks the same age as mine though in a much worse condition, and Prim is standing with her, face tight and shoulders drawn in. Peeta's family is on the other side, an older man, who's back is hunched slightly, his mother and two boys, who look like his brothers.

We're handed flowers, beautiful bouquets as Cato and I go through our speeches. They're perfectly crafted, solemn and complementary of each of the tributes for getting to some of the final numbers in the Games. We complement the families, apologise for the losses and I have a line to say about how, despite the brief connection with Katniss, she touched my life and kept me alive. It's bullshit, but I say it anyway, keeping my eyes on Prim as I do. Her mother can't look up but Prim is watching me, her eyes on my face as I smile sadly.

The script on the card finishes and I am more than ready to say my final goodbyes and thank yous. If this is how the tour is going to be, I'm going to despise every moment of it, having to stare into the faces of someone that you've killed and congratulate them on their child's ability not to die until the very end.

The mayor steps forward, presenting us each with a plaque that's so large, I almost drop it. There are a few more little speeches before the call for final applause was signalled. But there was silence. Cato and I both froze, looking around, before there was a whistle through the crowd. I recognised it in an instance, how could I not, because Rue had taught me the same whistle years earlier. It meant safety, it meant we were alright and it was how Katniss and I had communicated in the arena.

I felt my eyes going wide, watching as, in unison, hundreds of hands went in the air, doing the final goodbye salute that I had given to the cameras on the news of Katniss' death. They kiss their three middle fingers on their left hand, extending it towards me and for a moment, I want to cry. This is how District 12 is saying thank you, this is how they say goodbye. It is like they understand that I am bound by threats on my own family so cannot speak of how thankful I am to their children's sacrifice and how much I want to help. But it fills me with fear as well, and when I catch sigh of Cato's steel eyes, I see the terror there. 

President Snow would be out for blood for if this was not a clear sign of rebellion, then I don't know what was. 

Cato's hand finds the small of my back and I can feel his urgency through the singular touch. His eyes are darting, looking for threats as we're both sent back into the Justice Hall. I make eye contact with Prim one last time, seeing her joining the salute, her three fingers in the air, before we're taken inside once more and the doors slam shut.

──⭒─⭑─⭒──

Hiya,

So, long time no see, which I think is a common thing that I say, but yes, Mitzi saw Prim and broke quite a few rules to do so, but she did. Also, I just miss the domesticity of  Mitzi and Cato, they are old married couple vibes and I love that for them. Another thing, I am sure that some of you are aware that this is supposed to be a duology with a Finnick Odair novel and I don't know when to post it. Soon, or not soon? 

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx