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HG: The Final Eight, Chapter Four - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
HG: The Final Eight, Chapter Four
And onward. Gale just stalked out of dinner at the Mellarks' when Katniss kisses Peeta for the first time.

I was going to make a big plot of Delly doing some vastly important thing, but you know, I think this story is about the coverage and how the Games are playing in D12.

Part Two: Weathering the Storm

Chapter Four
Mrs. Everdeen stands up, alarmed, and says, "Gale's not... he's just..."

"I know," Mr. Mellark says quietly, getting down to start cleaning up the stew. "I've been there, remember?" In the silence, we hear that rain is now pouring down outside. Downstairs, the back door slams open, and something falls from the force of it.

Abruptly Edder shoves his chair back and grabs a knife from the table. He thunders down the stairs. I follow. I think the others do as well, but I don't care.

When I get outside, Edder has covered the distance between himself and Gale. He grabs Gale by the back of the shirt and throws him against the side of the shed by the pigsty. A crazy thought about what the reporters are seeing crosses my mind, but they're most likely huddling out the storm out in the square, on the far side of the bakery. They aren't seeing anything.

Edder slams Gale against the wall again and pins him, and Prim shouts, "Stop it!"

The two boys glare at each other, then Edder says, "If you screw this up and my brother dies, I'll kill you."

Gale pushes him away, then reaches down to his boot and pulls a hunting knife. "Yeah? You think so?"


"Stay back." He and Edder circle each other, their feet splashing in the muddy ground.

An icy mask falls over Edder's face, and the rain seems very loud. "I have a pretty good working relationship with Cray. Maybe I should tell him to keep a better eye on that fence from the end of school until midnight."

For a long moment, I think that they are really going to do it, that there's going to be a fight as bad as anything we saw in the arena. Then Gale gives Edder a disdainful look and puts his knife back in his boot. "I don't care about your threats," he says. "And I don't care about your brother. But Katniss has decided to protect him for some reason. If I screw it up, she won't forgive me, and I do care about that. So I'll be a good cousin as long as the leeches are out in the square. But you stay clear of me. All of you." He goes around the shed and disappears into the rain.

Mr. Mellark comes around me and touches Edder's shoulder. "Give me the knife, Ed."

After more hesitation that should be necessary, he does. "Dad, I--"

"Go inside. Cool down."

Edder goes inside, leaving the Mellarks, the Everdeens, and me standing out in the rain. Prim and I are shivering. Mrs. Everdeen doesn't even seem to notice that she's soaked. She sighs and says, "I should go after Gale. He's a good boy. I'll take care of cleaning your rug."

"I'll get it," Prim offers. "You go."

Mrs. Everdeen steels herself and follows Gale.

"You don't need to clean anything, Primrose," Mr. Mellark says.

"If it's stained, that boy is going to pay for it," Mrs. Mellark says.

Mr. Mellark closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "That's hardly the most salient point this week, Mirrem."

I take Prim's hand and say, "Come on, we'll take care of it together." I get her inside, expecting the Mellark screaming match to begin any second. Maybe they'll keep it down for the reporters. I chance a glance over my shoulders. They aren't screaming, but Mr. Mellark has sat down in the mud by the pigsty, and Mrs. Mellark is sitting on the stoop, her back turned to him.

We pass Edder, who is in the bakery refilling sugar and flour bins, and go back up to the dining room. Prim and I make quick work of the spilled stew, and she scrubs the carpet with a brush and some water. I sop it up. There doesn't seem to be a stain. On screen, Katniss is trying to coax a bowl of soup down Peeta's throat. Someone must have sent it while we were watching the knife fight outside.

Prim sits back on her heels, looking thoughtful. "I don't know what's happening," she says. "Gale's not like this. He looks after us. He brings game. He's Katniss's friend."

"It seems like he might be more than her friend," I say as Katniss manages to bribe Peeta into taking a bite of soup by giving a him a lingering kiss.

Prim shakes her head. "Katniss doesn't want boys like that. I mean, she doesn't want anyone like that. She says she's never going to get married, so there's no point starting out with it."

"Sometimes people change." As Katniss is currently stroking Peeta's cheek and speaking to him in a very tender-sounding voice, this seems reasonable to me.

But Prim shakes her head. "That's Mom's voice for Dad," she says. "I recognize it. Katniss is putting it on like a costume."

I look again. Between enraptured gazes at Peeta, Katniss is, in fact, making sure that the cameras have a good angle. Peeta, on the other hand, looks completely besotted, and I don't think it's just because of his fever.

I am ready to be angry, but then it hits me: She doesn't need to be there at all. She was doing all right before. Whatever she's doing, she's doing for Peeta, not for herself. She could have left him in the mud. The kisses and voice might be faked, or not, but that's real, and it's more important. Though I sort of wonder if either Gale or Peeta would agree with me on that.

Edder comes in a minute later, covered with indifferent blotches of flour and sugar. He looks at what we've been doing, confused, then says, "Prim, do you want me to walk you home? It's getting late for you to be out alone."

She smiles sadly. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to be down at the Seam right now. No one there will bother me."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"No. We're in the same place. You don't have to apologize to me." She stands up and heads for the door. "Um, Ed?"


"If you feel like apologizing to Gale in school or something? I maybe wouldn't do it. Not for a while."

"Got it."

They give each other a strange little smile, then Prim leaves.

"Can I walk you home?" he asks me. "I have to get out of here." He nods toward the back, where his parents are still sitting in the rain.

"They aren't yelling," I offer.

"No. There's that." He holds out his hand, and I take it. As we walk down the stairs, he says, "Why were you and Primrose washing the carpet?"

"Same reason you're walking me home," I say. We go outside. If anything, it's raining harder. Edder grabs an umbrella from a stand on the front porch, and we walk under it together to my place. "Unfortunately, my house is pretty much already here. You want to watch the rest with us?"

"I don't want to watch the rest at all. Tell me when she saves him, all right? Because it doesn't look like he's getting saved."

"It's still mandatory," I remind him.

"I'll watch out here, then."

"It's raining."

"So I'll get a cold. So what?"

"Let me get a raincoat," I say. "I'll stay out with you."

He doesn't argue. I grab my raincoat and Dad's, and go back outside. Edder and I are the only people really watching outside, though there are some shelters around. The shelters don't do much about the really driving rain. We sit under one of them, arms companionably around each other.

Katniss manages to get the whole pot of soup down Peeta's throat, then holds him until he falls asleep. The coverage goes back to the Capitol, where middle-aged women are crying into the fur of their designer cats. One tells the story of nursing her husband through a terrible headache.

They check in briefly on Katniss, who is eating from her small stash of food, then move on to the other tributes and their fans. District Two has hardcore perennial fans, and they have an ongoing party at what looks like a very fancy club. One says, "The one thing to remember about Romeo and Juliet is that they die."

I do not know who they're talking about, but the sentiment is clear enough.

Thresh's fans have created a dance based on his way of walking--it's a kind of heavy, deliberate stomp, which they've worked into a complex choreography set to a flashy electronic song.

Finch's fans are a lower key group, and have been meticulously reading all of her favorite books, which they hold up and talk about. Her self-identified favorite, which they've been talking about as a group, is Space Dance, which is about astronauts who left before the disasters coming home to discover the changes in the world. One is able to adjust, another one goes mad, a third becomes a traitor to Panem, and a fourth deliberately poisons himself. There is much discussion about what the types mean, which is obviously starting to bore the programmers, because they keep interrupting.

"I read that," Edder says. "It's in the school library. It's pretty good. Have you read it?"

I shake my head. "I'll check it out tomorrow."

"So will everyone else, probably." He squints through the rain. "Someone's coming."

There is, indeed, a colorful shape materializing from across the square. A few seconds later, it resolves itself into Cressida, and she runs under our shelter, shaking the water off her clothes. She blinks and recognizes us. "Ah," she says. "I wondered who was dedicated enough to be out here in the storm."

"Sorry. Just us," I say. None of the footage she took of me has been used. She hasn't said it, but I'm guessing it's because chubby girls with plain faces aren't a great favorite in the Capitol. Otherwise, she would have said. "No one to film?"

"What was happening at the bakery?" she asks. "I saw everyone go in together."

"We ate, and everyone went home," I say. It's true, as far as it goes.

Cressida looks like she's perfectly aware that I'm not being forthcoming, but doesn't push. She doesn't have her cameramen with her anyway. Instead, she sits down on Edder's other side and says, "I'm glad your brother will be all right."

"He's not out of the woods," Edder says. "I don't suppose you could remind people that he needs medicine."

She smiles faintly. "Keep watching," she says. "We've been told to be ready for a big development." She watches for a few minutes, her nose wrinkling, almost certainly unconsciously. Finally, she says, "I noticed that your train tracks keep going to the north. What happens if you follow them?"

"Radiation poisoning," I say. "That goes toward District Thirteen. My dad heard once that the tracks end up being melted over a trestle, so you can't get very far. But we're not allowed to go, so we wouldn't know firsthand." (This is for safety. Dad did not hear about the trestle. He and Mr. Mellark and Mrs. Everdeen dared each other to follow the tracks once when they were children, and saw it for themselves before the Peacekeepers caught them and hauled them back inside the fence.)

"Interesting," Cressida says.

"Have you ever been there?" Edder asks. "I always see people reporting from Thirteen."

"I've never been there." She smiles faintly.

We watch together through the end of mandatory viewing. Not much happens. Cato and Clove have an uneventful dinner. Finch shivers and starves. Thresh sleeps. Katniss tries to cool Peeta off with a soaked bandage, but seems afraid to do anything else. She sits beside him, her bow drawn and her night-vision goggles on, and guards him from the night. The anthem plays. There are no deaths, so they re-play the discovery of Peeta, Finch finding a berry bush that is unfortunately guarded by a mutt bird of some kind, Katniss cleaning Peeta, Cato and Clove hunting, Peeta with the backpack on his lap, Thresh building a tight shelter, and Katniss and Peeta's first kiss. After it, they move to a show about a dancing contest in a club in the Capitol.

The rain has stopped finally, and Cressida says goodnight. Ed looks back at the bakery and rolls his eyes. "Well, no screaming match, anyway," he says, pointing at the upper front window. Through it, we can see the Mellarks embracing until Mrs. Mellark turns off the light. "I think I'll give them a little space for a while."

"I thought they were angry."

"Welcome to my life." He sighs, then says, "You should go home."

"Yeah. And I have to work in the store tomorrow after school, so..."

"I should help Dad, too."

"Do me a favor, and stay away from Gale."

"And knives?"

"And knives."

He nods. "I just felt like he was going to blow the whole thing. I'm scared to death, Delly."

"I know." I go to kiss his cheek, and it ends up on his lips. "Sorry," I say.

He runs his thumb over my cheek and says, "I'll live." He gives me another kiss, then sends me home. I watch him through my bedroom window for a while. He sits through the whole dancing competition and the beginning of the late night coverage. I can't sleep, so I take a tiny drop of sleep syrup, hoping it won't knock me out too badly to get up in the morning.

My dreams take me back to the mine where Peeta is lost, and Katniss needs me to find him for her. She seems to be trapped behind a glass wall, though I can hear her perfectly well. She is talking about how I'll need to drain the pus, then get him to eat. I tell her she needs to do that, but she points at the wall, which I guess is answer enough. I go deep into the mine, and am still looking for him when I wake up.

I lie awake in my bed for a long time, thinking about my dream and still swimming in a daze from the sleep syrup. I shouldn't still be dreaming about Peeta being lost. He's found. He's found and he's going to be all right.

I feel suddenly bad, like the sky has opened up, but instead of pouring rain, it's pouring down every awful thing I've ever felt. I think of Peeta, out in the square, drawing on the cobblestones, the way the animals he made always seemed to come to life. I think of him taking tesserae to help some people who needed it, and talking others of us into doing it as well (though it was Madge's idea, of course--only Madge would have thought of it). I think of him reading parts in plays for literature class, making them live the way he makes his drawings live. That Peeta, my friend Peeta, has never seemed so very far away.

And I wonder if, no matter what happens in the arena, he will ever really be able to come back.

I dig through my dresser and find a picture of him, taken when we were six. He has a box of crayons, and has one stuck behind each ear, one in each ear, one in each hand, and one in his mouth. He is surrounded by the packing paper he's been coloring on. I don't remember where he got the crayons, and certainly any drawings he made with them are long gone, but there's still this--a smiling Peeta with the thing he loves best in the world. I put it in my purse.

I go down to breakfast and hug my little brother, then my parents. They don't ask what's wrong, which is one of the nice things about them. They just pet me a little and send me off to school, which is what I need.

When I get to school, I tape the photo to Peeta's side of the board (though actually, the board is no longer very strictly separated). I feel better with it being there.

The administrative office has put up a small blackboard, where they're keeping us up on any news, since the televisions aren't on and we're supposed to be paying attention to classes. They change the hour every hour so we know they haven't forgotten, but the words are the same all day: "Katniss is sleeping. Peeta is standing guard. No change in his condition."

Just before math, I see Edder drawing on the big board, but there's no time to see it. I stop on my way to lunch to look. He's drawn a young Peeta in the bakery laughing with Mr. Mellark. To my surprise, he is just finishing a drawing of Katniss on her side of the board, riding on Mr. Everdeen's shoulders as they walk past the bakery. They way they're set up, it looks like Peeta is watching her.

"That's nice," I say.

"Wish I was as good as Peeta at this," he says. "Best I can do is cartoons." He points at the bakery one. "Jonadab and I used to tease Peeta something awful every time she went by outside, 'cause he'd just moon around the window until she was out of sight. Dad always told us to let up on him. Guess Dad was right."

"Did you draw that?"

We turn to see Prim, looking at the picture of Katniss.

Edder nods. She throws her arms around him. He pats her shoulders awkwardly. "I hope it's okay..."

"No! No, it's wonderful. Thank you. Daddy would have liked it, too." She pulls back, then goes on to her next class.

"I really have the guilts, Delly," he says.

I nod.

We go on to our classes, too.

I mind the shop after school while my parents mend more heels. Business is actually pretty brisk after yesterday's storm, which ruined a lot of shoes. ("Ruined" is matter of perception. Most of them will clean up perfectly well and go to the community home.) When mandatory viewing starts, I turn on the small counter television, where they show the day's highlights, including Peeta coaxing Katniss to sleep, which is actually sort of sweet. He stays beside her, stroking her head as she drifts off, and looks like he wouldn't mind keeping a hundred fruitless watches if he could keep doing just that. He reaches a few times for the water, but doesn't seem able to get it.

The others are also in holding patterns, so the first hour of mandatory viewing is recaps and interviews on the streets. The remaining mentors, including Haymitch, are in meetings with the Gamemakers, so they interview the stylists and escorts. Mentors whose tributes are already gone come in for commentary. Johanna Mason, who lost her tribute on the first day, says that if she knows the Gamemakers (which, she assures us, she does), then they are planning to do something to "shake things up." It sounds like there was more to the sentence, but they cut her off and go to Gloss from District One, who says exactly the same thing, but sounds like he's actually finished when he says it.

The coverage abruptly cuts back to Claudius, who says, "Aha! It looks like someone is waking up... and a lot later than she planned on!"

"Oh, I just love them!" a customer exclaims, watching Katniss and Peeta while she tries on a pair of sturdy boots that are more suitable to a District Twelve spring than the clear plastic shoes (with tiny electric fish in the high heels) that shorted out in the rain yesterday. "Do you know them?"

"They're in my classes at school," I say, then try, "He could use some medicine."

"Oh, that’s been taken off the sponsor list," the woman says. "We couldn't send it now even if we had the money."

"Why would they do that?"

"Maybe they plan to just give it to him," she says chirpily, then pays for her new boots and goes outside to show off her quaint genuine District Twelve footwear (which was made in District Eight).

Of course, things are never just given in the Games, and she knows it. Combining this with the mentors' meeting with the Gamemakers and the late stage of the Games, I have a sinking feeling about what exactly they plan to do with Peeta's medicine.

"Excuse me, miss? I need a smaller size in this patent leather..."

I try to serve customers, but when Katniss finishes treating Peeta's more minor wounds (all of which are healing nicely), she unwraps the bandage on his leg, and I drop a stack of boxes, sending shoes spilling all over the shop. Dad comes up, looking like he means to yell, but then he sees what I see--the red lines creeping up Peeta's leg from his wound. Neither of us needs Peeta's identification of blood poisoning. We've all seen it.

"Miss? Excuse me, miss?" a voice prods. "I need those red ones, in an eight. I've been waiting for nearly five minutes!"

"Will you shut up?" someone else says. I look away from the screen long enough to register that Cressida and one of her cameramen--the quiet one--are in the store. She has gone over to the other customer and is standing over her in a threatening way. "These people know those children!"

I can't bear to look away anymore, but I hear Cressida bullying the woman out of the store and handing Dad money for whatever she meant to buy. A moment later, she kneels down beside me and starts helping me clean up. "We're not all like that," she says. "I'm so sorry about your friend."

"He needs medicine," I manage to say, but I can't get anything else out.

"I know. And they've got it, and it's good medicine. A dose will do it. I had blood poisoning last year. Fell off a guard post in Eleven and didn't get it treated in time. But one shot did it. Let's see if we can't get it for him." She signals to her cameraman.

"Thank you, but it doesn't matter. They took it off the list."

She pales. "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry."

I pick up a few more shoes while Katniss fusses with soup for supper. Cressida directs her cameraman to help sort out the others. Katniss has a rather good idea to avoid lighting a fire by using hot rocks to heat the water. Unfortunately, it won't matter much how well she can cook in the wild. If what I'm thinking is right, the time for just going through the motions is coming to an end.

While the soup heats, Peeta asks her for, of all things, a story. She asks if he's heard how she got Prim's goat, and when he says he didn't, she starts telling a lie about selling a silver locket. The rest seems true enough, though. I wonder what Prim makes of it.

"Brilliant," Cressida says. "I couldn't have planned that better. He'll get whatever help he can, I think."

"He's trying to make them love Katniss."

"And they do. And she loves him, so therefore, they'll love him." She wrinkles her nose. "I know a thing or two about making a storyline. Though he's better at without training than I am after twenty years of it."

I'm dully surprised that she realizes how well Peeta is playing a line that might well be created, but she seems to take it as a matter of course.

While Katniss is speaking, the audio remains on her (we hear about the goat's injury), but the video switches to outside, where Finch has appeared from the woods. She goes to Katniss's pot of soup, dips in a little metal cup, and steals some. She drinks it, then pours in the same amount of water from the stream, then runs off into the shadows. We go back to Katniss, who is finishing up her story, talking about how much money Prim can make on goat cheese. Peeta chides her for pretending that this is what makes it a happy memory. Then she puts her wrist against his forehead and says, unconvincingly, that his fever is going down. He doesn't even pretend to believe her. I am struck again by the difference between the moments when she's kissing him and being careful about camera angles and by the moments when they're just there together, talking. It's moments like this that make me feel like I'm eavesdropping on something intimate.

"Is that story true?" Cressida asks.

"I guess so. Prim has a goat, and the goat has a scar on its shoulder. It--"

But I am interrupted by trumpets, and they are followed by Claudius Templesmith.

"A feast," Cressida whispers. "At dawn. Of course. That's what they wanted us to be prepared for."

"That's what I was afraid of," I say. "They pulled it off the list so Katniss would have to go to a feast."

There's nothing to say to this. Outside, I can hear Seam kids screaming at the big screen. Many are cheering that she'll have a chance, but there's a goodish number telling her to stay, to win... and implying that she should let him rot.

Peeta is doing more than implying. He's flatly telling her not to go. And when she tries to say that of course she'd never do such a foolish thing, he says, "You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long." He threatens to follow her and impede her, to get himself killed deliberately if she risks her life to save him.

"What am I supposed to do?" she says, and again, there is no chance that the anguish in her voice is just an act. "Just sit here and watch you die?"

It's obviously exactly what he wants her to do, though he promises her he won't die, and will do as she says. But I can tell by her face that she's trying to think of a way around it. Anything to keep him from sabotaging her. I don't know if I can sleep tonight, waiting for dawn and...

I frown and call, "Daddy!"

He comes back up. "What?"

"I need my allowance. And my bonus from the heels. Now."

He starts to argue, but realizes what I mean to do. He hands me what I asked for. It won't be enough to buy anything outright, but I can put it toward something, and then it will be on the boards for other people to contribute to, at least if Haymitch picks it up and decides to put the money toward it. I run for the sponsor booth. There's never a line, even this year, and I duck inside and feed my coins into the slot while I pull up Haymitch's remote sponsor board. The Games play in a small screen to the side. Katniss is getting more soup into Peeta.

The board finally loads. I don't need to feed anyone the idea. It's already at the top of the list, with a note that it's urgently needed.

Sleep syrup.

I direct all of my money to go to it, though at this point in the Games, all of my money probably buys less of it than I took last night to get a few hours of sleep, and she'll need considerably more.

Enough to knock him out all night, if she can get him to take it. The donations are pouring in, and I resolve to never make fun of a middle-aged woman with a designer cat again. A chart appears in the corner of the screen, with a red bar leading to the goal. A video of Effie Trinket appears above it.

"Our star-crossed lovers are in trouble!" she says brightly. "We can help... but only if we help right now! Sponsors, we know you love Katniss and Peeta. So do we here in the District Twelve camp! Why, right here is Cinna, Katniss's stylist--"

She brings in Cinna, who is a great favorite after the tribute parade, and he also solicits donations.

The red line hits the goal, and a picture of the sleep syrup comes up. Video shows a hovercraft above the arena releasing a parachute.

On screen, Katniss is outside cleaning up and looking desperate when the parachute reaches her. At first, she doesn't even seem to recognize it.

Then light dawns. She mixes it with berries, takes it back to the cave, and tells Peeta that she's just found "sugar berries," which only grow in the woods. She extols their virtues as she nearly forces them down his throat. At the last minute, he recognizes the taste, but it's too late.

He falls down, his eyes rolling back. Katniss wipes his chin and says, "Who can't lie, Peeta?"

Outside the sponsor booth, the square erupts in cheers. I go outside and see my friends and neighbors together, but it's not the way it was when Claudius made his first announcement.

Because, while Katniss has solved the problem of getting out of the cave without Peeta being a danger to himself, now, she'll be facing one of the most dangerous parts of the game... and she'll be alone for it.
14 comments or Leave a comment
beceh From: beceh Date: December 4th, 2012 07:18 am (UTC) (Link)
Oh my!

I don't know how you managed it, but I was on tenterhooks by the time I finished reading this installment heh.

I love Delly's voice.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 4th, 2012 03:45 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks... good to know it worked with such a well-known scene.

I'm enjoying Delly.
aerrin From: aerrin Date: December 5th, 2012 02:17 am (UTC) (Link)
I'm really really loving this fic.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 03:57 am (UTC) (Link)
Thanks. I'm enjoying it, too. Which is odd, in a fic about watching television. ;p
torturedbabycow From: torturedbabycow Date: December 5th, 2012 03:23 am (UTC) (Link)
When you are obviously having fun writing, it is so much fun to read! (And I feel less guilty mentally yelling at you to hurry, lol. :D) There really is a lot of drama going on here, considering how I already know how the "important parts" turn out.

Also, <3 <3 <3 the Capitol people who actually "get it."
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 03:59 am (UTC) (Link)
Yeah, I'm putting out 4500 word chapters every couple of days. It's fun. I've missed having fun writing.

My general thought is that there are more Capitol people who "get it" than the Districts think.
shortysc22 From: shortysc22 Date: December 5th, 2012 04:08 am (UTC) (Link)
I'm loving these glimpses into Delly and the dynamics of the Mellark family too. I love how despite this being Delly's story, everyone else is still very much connected. Also yay for super posting speed on this!
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 04:17 am (UTC) (Link)
The Mellarks interest me because they seem so unhappy, but Peeta is strong--and it doesn't seem to be in a "despite my family" way. I want to see how that works.
shortysc22 From: shortysc22 Date: December 5th, 2012 04:32 am (UTC) (Link)
And I also can't stand how fics seem to automatically make Mrs. Mellark this ridiculous abuser, I mean obviously she's not going to win best mother of the year award, but there's more the story and I like how you've been writing all of them fleshing all of their personalities out.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 04:39 am (UTC) (Link)
Yeah, that's kind of what it is that interests me. She has this one interaction with him in the presence of Katniss (read, "daughter of rival"), and that's all we really get except for the weird comment before Peeta left for the Games. He's bitter--but he doesn't seem to be intimidated or scared or beaten. So, what's going on there, really? These are the things that catch my interest when I read, and I must have answers, dangitall.
shortysc22 From: shortysc22 Date: December 5th, 2012 04:43 am (UTC) (Link)
I feel like The Hunger Games leaves so much open ended to play with, I mean we hardly know any of the character's names (Katniss's parents, Peeta's entire family) but again, that's what you get when you have a first person perspective and Katniss seems to be a pretty oblivious person too, she's a fairly unreliable narrator.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 04:52 am (UTC) (Link)
She's delightfully unreliable, because she so completely lacks even self awareness. When the author can make it clear around the unreliable narrator's POV that said U.N. doesn't even recognize her own feelings, let alone anyone else's, that's some fun writing.
maidenjedi From: maidenjedi Date: December 5th, 2012 11:53 am (UTC) (Link)
I'm really enjoying this! This my favorite "missing scene" time in the books, because it's just ripe for interesting POV, and you've done a great job with it so far - looking forward to more :-)
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: December 5th, 2012 05:40 pm (UTC) (Link)
I'm having some fun, too. I just finished writing the feast scene. Very tense. Spirits may or may not be running high, as Katniss supposes, but I'd guess it's pretty emotional to watch people you know and love going to a place where you know people die every year.
14 comments or Leave a comment