Author's note: My first HG fanfic. This isn't really a songfic, but the title was inspired by the song 'Slipping Through My Fingers' by ABBA (Which I do not own). I thought it described Katniss's relationship with her mother, so I decided to try. It's a bit of a challenge for me, since we don't even know Mrs. Everdeen's first name, but I'm going to try anyway. Please leave an honest review telling me what you think. Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.
Slipping through My Fingers
"And now for an update on the wedding of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark," said the cheerful announcer in her Capitol accent. It's early morning, and I'm getting ready for my shift at the hospital. I consider turning off the TV, but then decided against it. Curiosity is a very powerful thing.
The TV shows footage of Katniss flipping through a book of wedding dresses, examining flowers, and looking very interested in a selection of shoes for the bridesmaids. For a minute, I wonder if Katniss has somehow become interested in this sort of thing. I seriously doubt it. But maybe she's changed. After all, it has been five years since I saw her. Five years since the revolution came and went. Five years since Prim…
I turn off the TV and shake my head a little to clear my head of the thought of her. Somehow, I always knew that Katniss and I would never be able to have that idealized mother/daughter bond. We were much too different, and anyway she was always closer to her father. But Prim, I once thought, was enough like me that she and I would remain close. It wasn't because of favoritism; I loved them both very much. It was only the fact that Katniss was so much like her father, who I've never gone a day without missing terribly. I though Prim was like me, with her healing hands. But Prim was so much stronger than I. For a long time, I think she was the only reason Katniss put up with me. The useless mother who sat by and watched as her children starved.
It's much too late to do anything about that now. Katniss has already moved on, as I always knew she would. But a part of me wonders if there's anything left of the little girl that I raised.
Before I really think it through, I'm getting out a piece of paper and writing it all down.
Dear Katniss,
I pause for a moment, then continue.
I know it's been a long time, but I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement and marriage. It isn't the choice I expected you to make, but as long as you're happy, then I'm proud of you.
I change my mind and cross out 'I'm proud of you'. My approval will sound too patronizing, which will probably annoy her because she was the one providing for us for a long time. Besides, it goes without saying that I'm proud of her. Instead, I write,
then it was the right choice. I used to doubt that you loved Peeta. When you came home from the Games, I could tell you weren't sure about him then. That's the real reason I kept claiming that you weren't old enough for a boyfriend.
That last part was only partially true. I didn't have anything against Peeta; in fact, I liked him. It just bothered me that he had a habit of practically sucking my daughter's face offwhenever there was a camera around. And at first, I wasn't sure Katniss was too happy about this arrangement.
But you seem happy with him around. You're always so serious, Katniss, and you need to know that you should be happy. I am happy for you.
I pause for a moment, and then decide to write what I'm sure she knows, but I've never told her.
I always wanted you to be happy, just as I was with your father. I had to choose between the coal miner that I loved with a life I'd never fully understand, and the baker with the life I knew. I chose love, and I've never regretted it, not even when he died. You're so much like your father, Katniss, outside and inside. I remember when you were young, maybe five or six, and he went off to hunt, and you'd beg to go with him. When you were older, he'd take you with him, and you'd always look so happy as you waved goodbye to me. It was then that I realized that you'd slip through my fingers at some point. And I let you.
When your father died, I knew for sure that you'd slip away. And I let you because I couldn't stop you. I wasn't and will never be as strong as you.
And then Prim was reaped, and you volunteered for her. I thought that we'd all lost you forever, like I'd lost my friend Maysilee who wore that same mockingjay pin. But you came back, and you managed to bring Peeta with you. Only you, Katniss, with your will to survive and ability to recognize who the true enemy was, could manage that. When you returned, though, you were so distant from everyone. Not even Gale could bring you back. It was no wonder you chose Peeta. He seems to make you more… hopeful.
That's true, I think. Now, how should I finish this?
I understand if you don't respond to this letter. I know that five years is too long to expect anything to change. But you must know that I love you very much, and I wish you the best. May the odds be ever in your favor, daughter.
I sign the letter and look over it. I think the last line might be considered insensitive. I consider crossing it out, but I leave it in. She's probably never forgotten the Games anyway.
I mail the letter with a feeling of sadness, but also a bit of relief. I know I've let her slip away, but she's not really gone. I am.