Chapter 1 - Love and Shadows

By Taygeta

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.

Author's Note: My first go at Hunger Games fanfiction!

She has my hair...and my attitude.

I watched as she stormed out of the house, her single, dark braid flying behind her. The bang of the door rang in my left ear...and I almost wished the Capitol hadn't reconstructed it so well so many years earlier. Perhaps they didn't anticipate that I might have a teenaged daughter.

Then again, I never anticipated I would have a teenaged daughter.

I looked up to see a pair of suppressed smiles in the kitchen.

"Don't you even dare," I said. "Either of you."

Peeta pursed his lips, his left hand covering his mouth in an attempt not to laugh and thereby further meet my contempt. He could laugh after all, he got along with our daughter without any problems. They understood each other in that same way that my father and I did. And, of course, while I teetered on the edge of fear with every step, he had embraced her whole-heartedly, always expressing to her how so very glad he was that she was alive.

He was always better at words than I could ever be.

Of course, my mother decided that it was the perfect time to visit today. After my children had been born, she had cause to return to District 12, reason to rise up from the sadness of losing Prim and my father. She had spent the last fifteen years working at the hospital in town and though she was nearing 70, she was still the no-nonsense head of the clinic.

There was something in her eyes that flickered, seemed to convey some kind of last laugh. I hadn't been exactly out of hand when I was fifteen given the darker circumstances - and my attitude saved us when she let go of everything, but there was a kind of blindness I carried in what I did. I realize now that I didn't quite understand my mother until I found out for myself what she had gone through...that darkness, the fury, the loss. It was no excuse for her turning away from us, but I know now that I could have been kinder.

But what could I say or do for my own daughter? Madge Primrose Everdeen-Mellark was quite aware of what struggles came before her, but there was nothing to reign in her attitude. No level of desperation that kept her head above water. She always seemed to swim from one mood swing to another without any reason and without any kind of escape.

"Katniss, you need to give her space," said Peeta.

"All I did was ask her how her day went!" I said.

"Well she probably thought you were prying," he replied in a tone that made me suspicious.

"What do you know that I don't?" I automatically asked.

Though the question was directed toward Peeta, my mother responded, "Katniss, don't you know a broken heart when you see one?"

I looked at my mother and Peeta, replying honestly as the world's worst mom: "I didn't even know she liked anyone..."

I sat on the sofa after dinner. Madge still hadn't arrived home and my mother had left to check in on a few in-home patients. I absorbed the quiet as I watched the setting sun coat the sitting room with yellow and orange hues. Even after all this time, I can't separate Peeta from the colors of the sunset.

I heard the floorboards creak, the familiar uneven gait of Peeta, trying unsuccessfully to walk into the living room quietly.

"Should we go out and find her?" I asked.

"She'll come home when she's good and ready," he replied sitting beside me. His arm wrapped around me, and I automatically brought my hand to entangle with his.

"I'm a terrible mom," I said sullenly, looking up at him.

He laughed, "No, you're not. When you were her age and you thought about Gale, you didn't shout it out to the rooftops of District 12, did you? I bet you didn't even tell your mother."

"No," I begrudgingly admitted, "but that's not a very fair comparison, Mr. 'I'm willing to confess my crush on a girl over national television before I even tell her'."

"I also loved you since I was five," he said looking at me squarely, "so I had plenty of time to be sure." On this note, he kissed me, maintaining his gaze when he pulled away, "I also thought I didn't have much time left for anything."

There was a silence between us, a silence that always arose when we talked about the Games.

I finally said, "I think a part of me just doesn't understand what it means to be where our children are."

"What do you mean?"

"You grew up on stale bread. I learned how to hunt and trade at the Hob. I mean, yes, we survived the Hunger Games and the uprisings. And you - you with everything..." I pressed my fingers to his forehead so grateful that the flashbacks were so rare now. "We can't unsee those things - we can't unlive them. But they - they never have and I am grateful, but..."

"But you're worried," he said knowingly. "That it's more to it than helping them to understand the past and never repeat it. I know - I worry about that all the time."

"But you, you make it look so easy," I laughed.

"It's not easy, Katniss. I want our children to be grateful - to appreciate all that we appreciate without having to go through what we've gone through - but in the end, I think it's just important that they know we love them and that they can trust us."

I nod taking in his words and letting myself enjoy the quiet moment with his arms around me. I feel him kiss the top of my head before whispering in my ear, "I really did mean what I said all those years ago. You *are* a wonderful mom."

Just when I felt comfortable hearing it, the door slammed again. Peeta and I both looked up to see our daughter pause to look at us. She had obviously been crying, her hair was a messy braid and she had somehow remembered to bring a ratty sweater when she had stormed out earlier.

She took a sharp breath as she took us in and said, "How am I EVER supposed to find someone when I have to live in the shadow of YOU TWO?!"

At that point, she stomped upstairs in a teary mess.

I looked at Peeta and he looked at me.

I always have to give Peeta credit for always knowing what to say: "Guess I'm not exactly getting the Father of the Year award either."