Chapter Text
Rebirth. Restructure. Restore. Relearn. Rejoice.
Those are the Five Rs, the pillars of New Panem. President Paylor and her cabinet wasted no time sharing their plans for the country. Rebirth as a new nation. Restructure the government so all people, Capitol or District, are treated as equals and valued the same. Restore the Capitol and districts to be even better than they were before. Relearn our history, both that which formed Panem and which came far before, so we do not allow our recent past to happen again. And rejoice in our success as one.
I’d find it more comforting if the slogan didn’t sound like a perfectly punctuated line from a propo. I can almost hear Plutarch’s pleased chuckle when he and Fulvia presented the work to the new president herself.
Beyond my own grievances, Paylor and her new government have been leading an extensive rebuilding project, and District Twelve has been at the forefront of many of the volunteers’ efforts, so I often try to bite my tongue and refrain from outwardly cringing when I hear the motto repeated on my television nightly.
Rebuilding District Twelve has been a process, which really isn’t hard to imagine when all Snow left us to work with were bones and ash. But no matter how destroyed it is, and no matter how depressing it is for natives to see, so many people come back to help pick up the pieces. Delly Cartwright and her brother. Ripper and her sons. Even the Hawthornes, after a brief stint of residing in District Two with Gale, come back. This is home, and we all agree we need to fix it up for those of us who no longer can.
I thought seeing the Hawthornes would be hard. Before the games, their house felt like my second home. I know Gale must’ve told them about some of what had gone on between us, about why we have gone from best friends to strangers. I didn’t know how I would face them again. But I don’t hold the sole torch of being changed by the war. We have all been hurt, damaged, and altered from the past two years. We are all handling grief in our own ways. And I realized this, that things could be alright between us, when Hazelle grabbed me in a tight hug the first night I saw her back in Victors Village, and instead of stiffening up, my body immediately eased into her motherly warmth.
It’s been over a year since I’ve returned to Twelve, and everyone who has returned before me and since has been trying to play their part and help where they can. People are building and cleaning and feeding and trading with one another to make sure we’re all meeting our needs (though our needs are being met far more consistently with scheduled shipments of supplies from the Capitol). We are working every day to make our district function better than ever before. So much has changed, yet still so much needs to be done.
The square is teeming with new shops. Some of them are running, like Peeta’s bakery, which was one of the first storefronts to be designated. Many others have their walls being put up every day. The focus seems to be on priority: the bakery and the grocer were top of the list so people could get their food. Delly and her brother are selling shoes and garments as we wait for more business to open to separate the two commodities. An apothecary shop was opened by a transplant from District Eleven as the Capitol engineers make progress on the development of the new medical factory near the old mine entrance.
Between the ongoing rebuilding and shopkeeping and caring, it seems like everyone has found their stride in helping except for me. Sure, I am able to hunt, but I’m only me. While the Capitol is working to rebuild all districts, District Ten’s livestock numbers are still suffering. Apparently with all of their technology, the Capitol can’t figure out how to make the baby animals grow any faster, so we need to wait it out for the numbers to climb. With that, and even with some supplementary shipments from District Thirteen, fresh meat is one of the only commodities we’re still struggling to consistently obtain. Even with our low population, it’s hard for me to help each household get some form of meat more than once a week.
That’s why I’m taken by surprise when Thom approaches me with a proposition.
I’m leaving for my afternoon hunt, something I’ve started now that I’m trying to catch game for more than just me, Peeta, and Haymitch. For this hunt, I usually leave from the spot in the fence closest to town and see if anyone in the square needs anything I can harvest from the woods.
Just as I’m peering around, I see Thom’s face shoot me a look, and he jogs over.
“Been lookin’ for you,” he says as he walks up to me. For some reason I can’t explain, my throat tightens up.
Thom was unanimously appointed as the go-to leader for District Twelve’s rebuilding. Not only is he smart and sociable, but he was well known in the mines for discussing ways he’d like to see the district improve. Never a pessimist, always looking on the bright side, even when swallowed by the darkness of underground caverns. A true passion from someone that’s more Seam than nearly anyone I’ve ever met. A viewpoint we need to adopt as we build back from the war.
His new status makes him very likely to be a shoo-in for mayor once District Twelve is at a point of needing a new central government. And after everything I’ve been through, the last thing I need is to get close to a political official, even if it is someone from my past life.
Unlike me, in the ways I now cower from power and authority, Peeta embraces it. Now that work on his bakery has finished, he helps Thom with drawing for his ideas of the town square, and he uses his memory of growing up as a merchant to assist the builders’ and new shop owners’ needs. He tells me that there’s nothing to be weary about with Thom. That his appointment doesn’t make him untrustworthy, but shows that maybe we should have some newfound faith in our leaders.
“What’s up?” I ask Thom, wearing a mask of nonchalance.
“You been lookin’ for somethin’ new to do?”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. I am not exactly known for doing anything new. In fact, I think I’m very well known as someone who has always done the same things to the point it consumed the image I possessed during the rebellion.
“New how?”
“A few of us were wonderin’… Well, we were wonderin’ if you’d wanna take over as the new butcher.”
“What?” I respond in a tone much harsher than I intended. I clear my throat in an attempt to rid myself of my uneasiness, “I mean, I’m just not sure how to do something like that.”
“Well, you know how to skin and slice up an animal. And you’d seen Rooba and her family enough, I’m sure. Still a damn shame,” Thom casts his eyes toward the ground for a moment, shaking his head before continuing, “But, you’d get the ropes of it. And you’re the only one that’s providin’ us with any meat to begin with. Figured you might as well start settin’ it up in a shop so people can come to you, and you can save yourself a trip ‘round town.”
I’m still perplexed at the notion. Even if the district is rebuilding, I’ve never seen myself as a merchant with a shop. Peeta has the bakery, but that only feels like mine by proxy, and it’s not like I do much in the name of ownership or management or general work there. Before everything, the closest I had ever seen myself to owning a shop was some day running my own stand selling pelts in the Hob.
“But that means Peeta and I would have two businesses,” I offer, trying to think of any ideas on why Thom’s proposition might not work out. Family’s had always been restricted to owning one business. If they wanted to pursue another venture, they had to sell their business or close up shop for a few months while they renovated. Of course, no one could afford to do this, so they typically stuck with what they had.
“Yeah, and I’m livin’ in a house in Victors Village even though I ain’t ever seen the inside of an arena. This ain’t the same district or the same country. People got needs, and others got ways of meetin’ ‘em. We’re all just doin’ what we can.”
I give him a nod. I know he’s right. We are all filling in gaps we’ve never anticipated before. With the merchant class almost entirely lost to the war, if we were still living a life based on the Merchant-Seam-Victor divide that used to exist in Twelve, the only two shops that would be standing would be the shoemakers and maybe the bakery.
“I’ll have to talk with Peeta,” I add as a last ditch effort to divert my response, “Just to see if it’s really feasible for both of us.”
“Don’t worry, Katniss. We’re not expectin’ an answer now, and I’m not expectin’ you to do it without talkin’ to Peeta first. Jus’ think about it, alright?” Thom finishes with a smile.
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and meet his smile with a small one of my own.
When Thom and I are finished talking, I ignore my plans to hunt and start to walk towards town. I’m eager to get Peeta’s thoughts on the situation, knowing he is usually able to parse out the many sides of a plan, good or bad. But as I walk, I realize that Peeta’s judgment becomes somewhat clouded when there is one certain factor in the equation: me. Also, with his background as a merchant, he might not understand why I would hesitate to have something as permanent as a shop. I decide to go to the person I hope will best understand my line of thinking.
“Why’re you here so early, sweetheart? Couldn’t find anything in your woods to kill, so you decided to come here and do the honors on me” Haymitch barks as he steps aside to let me through his front door, “I’m not sure you could pass me for wild dog.” He’s clearly in high spirits despite his rather disturbing line of jeering at me. But, of course, I can’t not take the bait.
“I could definitely pass you off, but no one would trust me again. You’re so full of booze your meat would get all the neighborhood kids drunk.” At this, Haymitch guffaws, and I can’t hide my smirk.
“Well, I can’t really argue with that,” He leans back into his chair to look up at me as he settles at his table. “So, what’s actually going on? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you with an empty game bag before.”
“What do you think about me becoming the town butcher?”
“Sure does make sense with your affinity for killing and all,” he responds without missing a beat, bringing a half empty bottle of red wine that was sitting on the table up to his lips.
I can’t help but roll my eyes, “Seriously, Haymitch. I’m not sure I can see myself in town as a shop owner. I know things have changed, but my blood’s just not merchant.” For some reason I feel my cheeks redden, and I realize I’m embarrassed at my desperation to have him understand my concerns.
“Well, I’m sure you couldn’t see yourself as a victor. Probably even less the symbol of a revolution. Hell, a few months ago, you’d probably never even seen yourself as the boy’s... whatever it is that you are. Sounds to me like this would be the easiest situation you could never see yourself in,” he finishes, taking another swig from the bottle as he eyes me curiously.
I sigh. I understand Haymitch’s argument, but it doesn’t exactly seem applicable now. I was forced to be a victor when the only other option was death. I needed to be the Mockingjay when the only other option was Peeta’s death. And I am Peeta’s… whatever it is that I am because, after all this time, through everything, it is somehow now the only thing in my life that actually makes sense.
I let out a sigh, and he clasps my shoulder. “Look, I think you should try it out, and if you don’t like it, well, no harm done, right?”
As I wrap up at Haymitch’s, I think about going home to talk to Peeta, but I find my feet leading me towards the Hawthornes. Maybe Haymitch is too far removed from living in the Seam to remember what it feels like. I need to talk to people – my people – to get a better perspective.
When I tell Hazelle, instead of being met with a shared hesitation, she smirks. “If you go for it, looks like you won’t be the only Seamfolk taking up a shop in town.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, perplexed.
“Thom asked me just yesterday morning about running a wash house for laundry, and I already told him yes. Remember those big washing machines they had in Thirteen?” she asks, and I nod, “well, turns out we can get a bunch of them from the Capitol to put in one place for people to wash their clothes. If they don’t want to hang around while it’s washing, they can drop it off with me. I won’t even have to wash it in a basin for them – the machine’ll do all the work!” Hazelle beams with joy.
Hazelle is one of the hardest working women I know. The thought of her being able to relax somewhat while she continues her laundry business has me radiating with happiness. She is also Seam through and through. Surely, if she thinks it’s a good idea, it must be, right?
But, Hazelle has a family to care for, so she needs something to put food on the table. Peeta and I have the bakery. What more do we need? I’m starting a thought spiral in the Hawthornes kitchen when another voice takes me out of my head.
“I could help you,” Rory Hawthorne says quickly as he steps into the kitchen, a sheepish look on his face. “If you choose to do it, you know. I can work for you.”
I look Rory up and down. He’s fifteen years old now, a year older than Gale was when I first ran into him in the woods, and just like his older brother, he’s already starting to look like a man. He has the same slender frame and somehow manages to possess an even quieter hunter’s tread. Unlike his brother, who was a wiz with snares, Rory takes to the bow almost as naturally as I do. Also unlike his brother, when I meet his eyes, there is a gentleness there that I had rarely seen in Gale’s. A gentleness that Prim would often recall when she would come home from an afternoon at their house, her cheeks hued a schoolhouse-crush pink.
Being with Rory and thinking of Prim and Gale is difficult. They are two people that I have a really hard time thinking of individually now, let alone when their likenesses become mixed. But, another look in Rory’s face tells me that he needs this, too. That I am not the only one who cared for them both. That even though our circumstances for loving them were different, we can remember them all the same.
“Tell you what,” I turn to him, giving him a soft smile, “I’m gonna talk to Peeta and sleep on it for a night or two, but when I make my decision, you’ll be the first to know.” At this, he offers me his own smile and nod.
I finally feel ready to talk to Peeta, still surprised that the only person to potentially sway me into taking the role has been Rory. While I love Peeta and while he is the only person who understands so much of what I’ve gone through, even though he tries to understand the parts of me from before our games, he can never fully grasp what it was like living as someone from the Seam. Now that my people have agreed it’s a good idea, too, I need to know how he feels before making any big moves.
It’s late at night as we’re getting ready for bed when I finally bring it up to him.
“How would you feel about me becoming the town butcher?” I ask while fumbling with replaiting my hair in the mirror as I attempt to seem casual.
Peeta stills at the question, and, as usual, picks up on the fact that this is not a casual conversation and meets me with a question of his own, “Why do you ask?”
“Well, Thom stopped me before my afternoon hunt to ask me if I wanted it. Said I already hit most of the qualifications, and it could help save me some trips around town if I have one place for people to buy from me.”
He nods thoughtfully at this, saying, “But you seem hesitant.”
I sigh. “Yeah, well, I don’t know. I mean… is it too much? We already have the bakery. And I don’t know the first thing about running my own shop, so I’d need your help with the business side of things,” I pause before continuing, sitting on the edge of the bed with Peeta following suit right next to me, “And I’m just not sure I can handle that many people relying on me.”
“I think we need to break that down,” Peeta starts, putting his arm around my shoulders. Dr. Aurelius told us that being able to talk through things in smaller chunks will help us better understand what they mean, and while I don’t always enjoy his methods, when Peeta tries to use them with me, I never deny him. “First, I’ve been in a bakery my whole life. I can run it in my sleep. And now that my employees have had enough training, I’d trust them to take over the shop for a few days if I needed them to in order to get you settled in yours.
“Second, if this is what you want to do, I’d be more than happy to help you with the business stuff. Not only because I love spending any and all time I can with you, but because if you want to learn it, I’m the most qualified to teach you. It’s a lot easier than it sounds.” I smile up at him as he continues to talk.
“And as for people relying on you, well, that’s what we’re all doing here, aren’t we? We’re building back from the ground up. If we weren’t all relying on one another, we wouldn’t get anywhere.”
“But look what happened to the last person who really relied on me.”
These whispered words escape me before I can stop them, and I’ve finally said it. Why I’m so scared of this step. Because the real reason for my hesitation has been lingering in the background all day. It’s not the Merchant-Seam divide, but the fact that it doesn’t exist anymore, and Prim will never get to see it. The fact that District Twelve is picking itself up and dusting itself off while Prim is dead and gone. No body left to pick up. No knees left to dust off. The fact that everyone is growing up and moving on while Prim was never given the chance to do the same.
I feel tears prickling at my eyes. Thinking of Prim in any capacity still hurts, and knowing it was me she relied on to make sure she was kept safe and I failed hurts even more.
“Hey,” Peeta whispers as he pulls me in, his hands rubbing up and down my arms. “You both relied on each other, and from my eyes, you succeeded.” I look at him in question, and he continues. “Not only did you make her feel safe, not only did you feed her and care for her, but you loved her so much that there is not a single person out there who could try to deny it. And she did the same for you. Katniss, can’t you see? Having people rely on you and letting yourself rely on someone means that you care.”
I sniffle, knowing he’s right. That’s what he and I have always done every since we left on our first train to the Capitol. We’ve relied on each other for comfort and support and laughter and survival and everything in between.
I nod at him, and he continues, “And I rely on you. All the time. I rely on you to bring food home and to help with my flashbacks and to stick around even when I take up way more than my fair share of the bed,” at this I let out a chuckle. “And you rely on me to supply you with an endless supply of cheese buns and talk to people you don’t want to.”
“That’s it?” I say, offering him a watery laugh.
“Well, I hope there’s a lot more, but I’m only offering the keynotes right now,” he smiles, “and we do that because we love each other.”
“Thank you,” I say as I lean up to kiss him. “So what do you think about me doing it?”
He wraps his arms around me and squeezes as he says, “I think you should do whatever you think is right for you.”
“But I think you should tell me what you think because I already think I know how I’m leaning and I want to really know what you think before I choose.”
“Well, I think it would be nice for you to have a place to keep all those dead animals besides our kitchen.”
“Peeta,” I groan, begging him to take this seriously because he has to know by now that I value all input he gives me.
“Okay, okay. I think that it will definitely be a change for you. You might have to change to a more consistent schedule. You’d probably have to hire some help that you’d have to train and be patient with since no one will ever be able to hit a target with as much precision as you. But I also think this could be really good,” I smile as he continues, “I think you’ll be able to help the town in a way that makes sense for you. And I think I’d love being able to look out the bakery windows and see you in the butcher shop from across the square all day, but you’d definitely kill my productivity.”
I laugh, and he leans down to start showering me in kisses. “But do you think it’s good for you?” He asks when he comes up for breath.
“I think… I think I won’t know unless I give it a try.”
He smiles. “That’s my girl. I told Thom you’d at least try it out.”
I shoot up. “You knew!?” I practically yell at him.
“Of course I knew. I meet with Thom about the rebuilding twice a week. You don’t think this came up?”
I hide my face in the crook of his arm, embarrassed I didn’t think of this earlier, and he chuckles.
“She would be so proud of you,” he whispers into the top of my head, and of course, I know he’s right.
So, the next morning Peeta and I find Thom and tell him I’ll be the new butcher. The way his smile reaches his eyes tells me that I’m doing the right thing. Not just for the town, but for me.
Once he hands over the keys, a wave of excitement hits me as I register this as real. Like I’ve finally found a solidified place in these efforts and this new old town.
I feel even more excited when we head to the Hawthornes. When I see Rory sitting outside, I get the sense he was waiting for me.
“You ready for me to be your boss or what?” I call to him, and a grin sprouts on his lips.
The three of us walk into town together in a comfortable silence, and Rory chuckles to himself.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s nothing.”
I give him a look, and he smiles and shakes his head.
“I don’t wanna bring the mood down but… Prim would hate this.” My throat catches immediately with the sound of her name, but after my conversation with Peeta last night and the pressure of his hand in mine as we walk help to ground me in reality, I manage to hold my composure and look over at Rory.
“She wouldn't hate us working together, obviously. But us running a shop to kill more animals,” he laughs again softly, “I can practically see the look on her face if we told her this.”
I think about Prim. How she would cry whenever she saw a wounded animal. How she loved everyone and everything so fiercely. And I think of Peeta’s words, and how hard it is to do this without her, but how proud of me she would be for trying.
I smile up at Peeta, then look over to Rory and let out a small laugh of my own. “Yeah, me too.”