Blood and Ashes

A pregnant Katniss is forced to fight in the Quater Quell with Haymitch. Who will survive in the war to overthrow the Capitol? Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own the Hunger Games, or any of the characters in this fanfiction. All rights go to Suzanne Collins.
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15. Formality

My trembling hands rest on the cold metal in front of me. Peeta's arm is wrapped around me as we sit at the long, rectangular table. The sound of metal grinding against metal replaces the almost eerie silence when the doors to the hall are pushed open by a pair of guards.

President Alma Coin walks in, her perfectly straight, grey hair just touching her shoulders. The sound of her shoes tapping on the floor fills the room. She reaches the end of the table and clears her throat.
"Hello," she begins, "I'm sorry to interrupt your schedules, but we decided it was best for all of you, especially Katniss and Peeta," she nods at us, "to show you what the Capitol did to district twelve."

She takes a remote control out of her pocket and presses a button. The screen lights up and a video begins to play. Shaky footage of the ashes that remain of my home – our home begins to play. The district has been obliterated. Burned down. Destroyed. Either way, it's gone.

It is only after Peeta says my name twice that I realize how long I've been sitting here. I must look like I'm on the verge of a breakdown. My head braced between my clammy hands, breathing rapidly. The baby senses my increased heart rate and kicks, helping me to stay alert.

I look up to see everyone making an effort not to look at me, or at the very least, pretend not to notice. I sit up and take a deep breath.
"I'm ok," I say, to reassure myself more than anyone else. We leave abruptly and go back to our compartment for the rest of the day.

I come to know that, since the evacuation from twelve, the citizens live exclusively underground. Everyone has a specific schedule, but I ignore mine. Plutarch tells me that they want me to be their Mockingjay and be the face of the rebellion.

After weeks of persuasion, I agree to this and we start to shoot propos, propaganda footage for the rebels. I wear the suit Cinna made for me and my prep team, who were rescued with me and Peeta, make me look presentable. Our compartment is opposite my Mother's and Prim comes to see us every day at six o'clock. The routine of this new life is almost comforting, because it's reliable, when nothing else is.

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