Made of Ashes

Chapter 5

Another force to contend with. Another power player who has decided to use me as a piece in her games, although things never seem to go according to plan. First there were the Gamemakers, making me their star and then scrambling to recover from that handful of poisonous berries. Then President Snow, trying to use me to put out the flames of rebellion, only to have my every move become inflammatory. Next, the rebels ensnaring me in the metal claw that lifted me from the arena, designating me to be their Mockingjay, and then having to recover from the shock that I might not want the wings. And now Coin, with her fistful of precious nukes and her well-oiled machine of a district, finding it's even harder to groom a Mockingjay than to catch one. But she has been the quickest to determine that I have an agenda of my own and am therefore not to be trusted. She has been the first to publicly brand me as a threat.

I stare curiously at the strange person in the mirror in front of me.

Stripped down, naked and vulnerable in my newly assigned Remake Room, I look more like myself than I have in some time. I've still got the same small, slight build I've always had. The same dark length of hair. Gray eyes. Olive skin. But the familiarities end there.

After my first time in the arena, the Capitol surgeons gave me a full body polish, relieving my body of every burn, flaw, and mark on my skin, both those I had accumulated before and during the Games. The mental scars were the only ones that remained.

But following the Quell, my skin has once again become a constellation of scars, my hair thin and damaged by poison. Burns that still haven't completely healed marr my arms. A gaunt, lost look on my face. And that's only the half of it.

I drop my hands to my belly, allowing my hands to glide over the smooth skin there. Lightly. Caressing.

The most drastic changes have been altered not by the Gamemakers' schemes, no, but by my own transformation. Where my abdomen should be a flat expanse of skin and muscle is now an ever-growing eyesore. My breasts, which have always been small, have now swelled to a fuller, rounded shape. My girlish features have given way to a woman's body. To make space for her.

As if in response, that unfamiliar fluttering feeling returns to my stomach, and I find my attention drawn to where my hands lay across it.
A gasp sounds behind me, pulling me from my trance as I whip my head around to find the source.

My eyes lock onto Octavia's deflated face, just as tears are starting to form in her eyes. "Oh, Katniss..." she says, her eyes full of sympathy.
Venia gives her a look and Octavia turns away, blinking the tears from her eyes.

"It's an honor to be working with you again, Katniss," says Venia, taking my hand and grasping it firmly. She directs her attention back to the other two. "Remake her to Beauty Base Zero. We'll work from there."

Flavius and Octavia nod and busy themselves with preparing my bath, grateful for the distraction from my ravaged, pregnant body.
I don't blame them. I, too, would be afraid of the metamorphosis my body has undergone since I last saw them. I am afraid of what has happened – what will happen as I see the pregnancy through.

I run my fingers through the thick layer of bubbles in my tub. Cleaning me up is just a preliminary step to determining my new look. The prep team has to make me pretty and then damage, burn, and scar me in a more attractive way.

Beauty Base Zero turns out to be what a person would look like if they stepped out of bed looking flawless but natural. It means my nails are perfectly shaped but not polished. My hair soft and shiny but not styled. My skin smooth and clear but not painted. Wax the body hair and erase the dark circles, but don't make any noticeable enhancements. I suppose Cinna gave the same instructions the first day I arrived as a tribute in the Capitol. Only that was different, since I was a contestant. As a rebel, I thought I'd get to look more like myself. But it seems a televised rebel has her own standards to live up to.