Where Father Met Child
Eyes closed, Katniss inhaled the sweet smells of the meadow and smiled to herself. Songbirds chirped and the sounds of the forest called to her. She fought back the urge to get up and run directly into it, and immerse herself into the world that was her second home. There was a slightly more pressing issue at hand today. Opening her eyes, Katniss squinted up at the sun. It was low enough, and she estimated it was about six in the evening by the brilliant shades of amber and peach-orange that were being thrown through the cracks between the trees around her.
Peeta should be here by now, she thought impatiently.
Katniss had been here all day deciding how exactly she would engineer the upcoming conversation. She had been nervous, she still was, and being in the meadow seemed to be the only thing able to still her shaking hands and calm her stomach. She inhaled again, calming her nerves. Staring at the flowers dotting the meadow, Katniss forced her mind to push out images of death, images of Rue, and of the mass graves in District 12 after her second Games.
Almost fifteen years ago.
The thought was frightening to her. It hurt to think of Rue, of Prim, but it was true that as years passed and peace had settled over the districts, Katniss was able to think about the ones lost to the Games, the war, as happy instead of dying. She could, no; she would have to believe that all children were safe now.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Katniss spotted something yellow in the sea of lush green grass. She looked down and to her left and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a brilliant dandelion. Yes, she had seen them resurface and bloom in abundance every year, and yes, each time she had thought of Peeta and the life that he had given to her so many years ago. They had saved each other and won against death how many times now? Too many to count. She found it funny how Peeta had thanked her time and time again for giving him a reason to live, but hadn't Peeta done the same thing without cause? He had only himself to thank. And now, so did she.
Katniss let her mind wander, finally settling on the first day she could remember Peeta's face. It was beyond what she cared to admit, but Katniss could remember him from the day she sang the Valley song at school. It was a foggy memory, but she could remember standing up in front of the class and fixating her eyes on her audience. Yes, she could remember the little blonde boy with the piercing eyes staring at her, unwavering.
She chuckled to herself, thinking of Peeta's ancient words. That was when his forever began; when their forever began. She could remember Peeta from other days at school, seeing his face in the schoolyard, or passing in the hallway, but she could also remember being indifferent to his staring, not thinking anything of it. Peeta had only become her reality that one day in the rain. She remembered the feeling of hunger eating away at her stomach and her mind and collapsing in the mud. Only did a final flicker of hope reveal itself when she saw him, nearly fall through the back door, at the hands of his mother.
Katniss remembered Peeta's mother with a cold feeling of respect. She had always hated her, but the death of Peeta's family wasn't something she took lightly; especially Peeta's father. Even in the rain, as she could feel herself slipping, Katniss could remember Peeta's eyes, warm but sympathetic. The rest seemed mixed around in her head, but she had seen his lips move incomprehensibly, and him throw the bread towards her. She had somehow found the strength to pick up the loaves, still warm from the oven, and carry them back home. Her thoughts in that moment had been centered on one main idea. This boy, the boy she hardly knew, that hardly knew her, had chanced his wellbeing and given her life. Even to this day, there was nothing Katniss could do to change the fact that he had made the first gesture. What else she had done for him over the years was nothing in comparison. She still believed she would never be able to repay him, but she hoped after this evening, it would be a start.
Katniss moved her thoughts to Rue, Glimmer and Cato, Thresh and Clove and the clever fox-faced girl. Each of their deaths meant something different to her. Normally she would have settled on Rue, but today she thought of Thresh. He could have killed her easily if Clove hadn't been so interested. Not only did he pass up the opportunity, but he had saved her from Clove. Twice, Thresh had gifted her with her life. And if he had not? Well, there would be one less life in particular to think about this evening.
Working her way to the present, Katniss thought about her second Games, the war, the deaths of Finnick and Prim, to name a few. She still hated the idea of never seeing them again, and it was hard for her to think of them as dying for a cause. Ironically, the war was the only reason that she was still alive, in the meadow under a honeysuckle tree, waiting for Peeta, perfectly at peace.
Peeta. Where was Peeta?
She was getting agitated and restless now. In an attempt to calm herself back down, she thought of the day on the beach during the Quarter Quell. Again, Peeta had promised her a chance at life, with or without him. She thought of the locket, safely guarded at home, and then of the pearl, that she could feel pressed against her chest through the thin breast pocket of her father's hunting jacket.
After the war, Katniss had been sure she would never see it again. She had given up hope when she noticed the pearls absence from her box of possessions from District 13 upon her arrival back home from the Capitol. It came as a surprise to her, about a month later when Haymitch had walked over, oddly sober, wanting to deliver it to her. She had held out her hand, staring rather than speaking as he gave it to her, walked away quickly, and muttered something about doctors finding it scorched into her leg, transferred from the pocket of the pants she had worn when the war ended. She still had no idea why he had kept it for so long, but Peeta had thought it was something for him to hold onto, helping him through his nightmares, as it did for Katniss.
Peeta had told her that day, through kisses, of her future.
"You're going to make a great mother, you know."
The words still echoed through her mind. Would she? The war was over, children lived in peace and in safety, everyone did, but would she be a good mother to someone someday? She still didn't know.
Before opening her eyes, she repeated one thought to herself,
"Your name is Katniss Everdeen. You live in safety. You are married to Peeta. He'll be here soon. He gave you life which you cannot begin to repay."
She whispered aloud as she added, "I love him," to her list.
Smiling softly, she gazed around her. It was definitely later; the deepest of oranges replaced the amber light that had lit the meadow before. Katniss glanced up, staring at the boughs of the honeysuckle tree she sat under. Her smile grew at a memory of her father.
One afternoon, when she and Prim were very young, Katniss had started to sing The Hanging Tree, completely unaware of what it meant. It had upset her mother so much that she had yelled, Prim had cried and Katniss had escaped into the woods to hide under a honeysuckle tree where she felt safe. Her father had known of this spot and had always been able to find her there. That spot had been a place for Katniss to feel safe with her father; a place where father came to meet child.
Peeta would never know to ask, but Katniss took pleasure in her personal brilliance in picking this spot for tonight. It meant something to Katniss, it was something just for her.
Katniss tilted her head back and sighed, once again taking in her surroundings and the smells and sounds of the meadow.
Calm your nerves. Breathe. Relax, she instructed herself.
She could hear him before she could see him. Katniss snapped back into reality and sat up against the tree. Close by, she could hear twigs snapping and bushes rustling. She rolled her eyes; Peeta was never quiet in the forest. She half smiled, remembering their hunting expedition together.
Never quiet, she concluded.
Katniss began to see the bushes moving now, each step, bringing Peeta closer to her; closer to their inevitable future. As if on cue, the second the tall grass parted to reveal a struggling Peeta, her stomach gave a light flutter. Katniss smiled and ended up chuckling at Peeta's defeated expression after battling the mighty weeds.
"Hey," he exhaled.
"Hi," Katniss smiled, "you alright over there?" she teased.
"Just great," he said sarcastically.
"Well come and sit down. You're late. Where were you?" Katniss questioned.
Peeta slumped down next to Katniss. He put his hand on her face and turned her face to kiss her hello. Katniss could feel her senses come alive despite how brief it was.
"Dropping off some pastries for Annie," he explained, "it's her son's birthday tomorrow."
Katniss felt a pang of sympathy for Annie. Losing Finnick during the war had driven her to a bad place again, and her son's birth had been such a bittersweet moment. Katniss could not imagine having such a reminder with her every day. Maybe it was Annie's strange way of coping. She did not understand Annie sometimes, but she could respect her.
"Oh right," Katniss whispered.
Peeta continued, "I was covered in flour so I went home and got cleaned up, regrettably alone, before I came here."
Katniss blushed at the thought and kissed him.
"Shh! This was more important!"
Peeta placed his hand on her thigh casually and looked at Katniss, his blue eyes piercing her own grey ones.
"Alright, what is it?" he questioned.
Katniss dropped her gaze. She took her hand and began tracing the barely noticeable burn scars on the back of Peeta's hand. She took a breath, and told him all she had been thinking about, about seeing him in school, about her dandelions, the day with the bread, The Reaping, the Games, the war, losing him to The Capitol. Peeta knew most of these stories, but he still had to hold on to something while Katniss coaxed him out of his tremors. His days as a mutt, a hijacked version of himself, were long over, he was Peeta again, but his nightmares still threatened his sanity. Despite his compromised emotions, Katniss persisted, all of her points settling on one main thought, just as she had before.
"Peeta, you gave me life," she finished, using all the emotion she could muster.
Peeta laughed, "You know I've told you this before, but I wouldn't have had a reason to return, to give you all this life you talk about if you had not been there to give it back to me in return."
Katniss frowned at his laughter, "Well you started it, with the bread."
"I won't fight you on that one, but why now Katniss? Why did you need to tell me this today?" he asked, puzzled.
Katniss grinned at his expression before turning stone cold serious; an expression she was so practiced in.
"Haven't you been listening? Peeta, you've given me life." She waited for him to understand.
Peeta just rolled his eyes, "So you've said."
Katniss felt her stomach flutter again; she took another breath to refocus. Time for a last resort.
"No," she said firmly, "give me your hand."
Peeta surrendered his hand as Katniss lifted it and placed it just under her belly button. Not unsurprisingly, Peeta took this to mean more than she had anticipated. He took his hand back and slid it a few inches up her shirt.
No, Katniss thought. Yes, her mind retorted. Peeta was on his knees now, bent over her and occupied their lips with his. Speechless and helpless beneath him, Katniss thought again, No, no, no. Not now. It was becoming harder to resist; Peeta had one leg over both of hers now. She lost her battle and gave in, letting her body take over in a moment of weakness. Raising her arms around the back of his neck, she pulled his body down on hers. She felt the need to come up for air, but she didn't care, a familiar fire had begun to build in her. It was hungry. She let this fire seize her thoughts and body, letting it reach her toes and fingertips.
Katniss Everdeen, The Girl On Fire. The title was older than time, it seemed.
She moved her hands from around Peeta to up his own shirt now. Her hands could feel some scars, but years of working in the bakery had returned his physical stature into a sturdy, warm rock for her to hold onto. It fuelled her fire. She could feel her will power fading, and still she didn't care.
Until she felt it again. A feeling of butterflies madly fluttering around in her stomach. She threw her eyes open and clamped her mouth shut, effectively causing Peeta to draw back at her rigidness. Putting a hand on each side of her and moving one knee between her legs, the other to her right, Peeta pushed back. Katniss stared up at him shaking her head, both of them panting from their loss of air.
"Not now," she managed to get out, emphasizing the 'now' part of her message.
Peeta looked beyond confused, and more worried.
"What's wrong Katniss?" he asked.
"Nothing is wrong," she said, emphasizing a word, this time going with 'wrong'.
Peeta pushed all the way back now, and sat on his heels. He looked down, shifting his legs uncomfortably as he sat down next to Katniss, this time, facing her. Katniss followed his gaze into his lap.
She blushed and squeaked out, "Sorry," hardly containing her laughter.
"No problem," he gritted through his teeth as he folded his arms across his lap, half grimacing, half laughing. Katniss fixed her position against the tree, trying to give Peeta a moment. She decided to lean her back against the tree, as she was before. She yanked down her shirt and stared at Peeta. Unable to keep it together, she started howling in laughter at how concentrated Peeta looked. He grinned as he snapped out of it, leaning forward to assault her with a few more kisses.
"You'll pay for this later," he added, choosing to emphasize 'later'. He pulled back and sat back down, facing her again.
"Shall we try this again?" Katniss asked.
"That depends," he said darkly, flashing a brilliant smile at her.
Katniss punched his leg, cracking up a little, "Give me your hand," she ordered, "and this time, do not move an inch. Don't even breathe," she warned.
Peeta nodded, letting Katniss take her hand. She pulled up her shirt again and placed Peeta's hand in the same spot below her belly button. Peeta looked up at her and she put a finger to her lips. Peeta dropped his gaze again to his hand. Katniss could see in his eyes his mind trying to figure out what was happening.
Katniss watched for what felt like forever, and waited for her butterfly.
She felt it about one second before Peeta did and about two seconds before the gears clicked into place in his mind. He gasped and pulled his hand back to cover his mouth, using his other hand to steady himself against the trunk of the honeysuckle tree. Katniss watched him move his hand from her stomach to his mouth before he decided to rest it there, on her stomach, leaving his mouth gaping open. Katniss hadn't noticed, but she was smiling.
Peeta squeezed his eyes shut, a single hot tear falling on his hand. A shiver ran through his spine as he gripped onto her stomach. Worry rushed though her veins as she felt the fluttering get stronger. Peeta was shaking. More worried about whether or not Peeta was having a bad memory than her own thoughts, Katniss prepared herself. But Peeta didn't move any more. He opened his eyes and Katniss could see they were slightly misty. She did not need to be told that he was having the same conflicting thoughts she had had the day she found out. After so many years of sending children into danger for entertainment, and then after so many years of having to believe they were safe, the thought was too overwhelming.
Katniss reached out to put her hand on top of his and he looked up at her, his eyes steady in hers. In this moment, Katniss felt her world tilt. She felt years of Games rush back to her, but this time, there was no bad. There was only Peeta, and whatever happy memories she could muster with her family, related or not. There were also years of healing, of his arms wrapped around her as they pushed their terrors away. Her whole world seemed to fixate itself to a point under their hands.
Peeta let out his breath, reminding her to take one. After filling her lungs, she laced her fingers in Peeta's and sat herself up facing him, folding her legs beside her. Peeta leaned forward and kissed her lightly, their lips barely touching. He balanced his forehead on hers, the tips of their noses touching. He replaced his left hand on her stomach as he had done for the cameras in the Quarter Quell, only this time; it was not for anyone to watch.
His right hand found the side of her face. Katniss steadied herself and Peeta by placing her hands on the side of his own face and cupped around the side of his neck. They looked up into each other's eyes and Peeta opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He dropped his gaze, as if to correct his thinking before he looked back at Katniss.
In a steady, sure voice, he asked, "I'm going to be a father. Real or Not Real?"
Feeling her stomach flutter in response, Katniss smiled and whispered in reply, "Real."