Hi there. This is my first fan fiction (that I've posted, anyway), and I'm a little bit nervous about it. In this chapter, I wanted to introduce Katniss and Peeta again, years after the rebellion ended, living normal lives. To tell you the truth, it's just an introduction to their lives as it is now. But trust me, I'm working on the next, more exciting chapters. So, read, enjoy (or don't...whatever), and leave a review, if you like! I own nothing, of course. All rights are Suzanne Collins'. I just interpreted how I thought it should go...


Chapter 1

I launch the sharpened knife across the room, watching as it lodges in the wall next to his head. Of course, I'd never try to hurt him, but it's amusing to watch him jump out the way.

"If I burn myself once more, Peeta, I swear to God, next time I won't miss."

"No need to be throwing knives," he laughs his heart-warming chuckle and his strikingly blue eyes glitter from across the room, where he's taken refuge behind our big wooden table. He crosses the room and takes me by the hands, "It's not hard, Katniss. Just lift the bread out of the oven and put it on the table." I glower at him.

"Stop laughing at me, then!" I grumble as I attempt to lift the innocuous lump of bread from the enormous oven Peeta had insisted on being added to our, in my opinion, much too large house. I can almost hear him smiling as his arms encircle my waist. I drop the loaf on the table and grin up at him, my petty annoyance draining away almost as quickly as it had come.

Here we are, alive, together and perfectly happy in District 12, one of thirteen ever-growing districts ringing the Capitol. The Capitol is the showiest area of Panem, the country that was once North America, once likened by a very elderly man in our District to "the new-age New York". I suppose he must have meant something by his comparison, but it was completely lost on me. Our house, which stands in what once was named Victor's Village but is now just The Village, looks out upon the resurrected District 12. Though we are over a kilometre walk away from the main section of the district, it is still plain that it is in much better condition now than it ever was, with trade between the Districts blossoming and inter-district friendships springing up where tension and mistrust once stood when the corrupt Capitol ruled. Now, we have democracy and almost everyone has a much better way of life—though poverty and starvation still have a strong hold here. It will be some time before it is completely eradicated.

Through the window, we can see our two children, Gloriana and Robin, playing in the lush summer grass. Gloriana's long dark hair streams down her back and fans out around her even though there is not a breath of wind in the air to lift it, and her eyes, the exact replica of her father's, dance in the blistering sunlight. Gloriana has yet a few inches on her brother but he grows quickly and his build is much like Peeta's, strong and stocky though he is only eight years old and she, twelve. Her build is very reminiscent of my own, slight but built for speed.

Robin attempts to keep up with her as she races back and forth across the dandelion filled grass. His wavy blonde hair falls into his grey eyes but I cannot bring myself to cut it. It reminds me strongly of the way Peeta looked when we first met; a time I will never forget.

For a while we stand in silence, Peeta's chin resting on my shoulder and my cheek leaning against his. From a few doors down we can hear drunken warbling emanating from our old friend, Haymitch's house. Haymitch had been our mentor in The Hunger Games, a violent way for the Capitol to remind the Districts that they owned us all. I sigh with the relief I feel that those days are gone. I could never have borne the thought of bringing children into a world that condemns them to an early, bloody death.

Had it not been for Peeta, I would never have survived the Games, and had it not been for me, he would not have made it out either. We protect each other now, just as we always have. Both times we'd been abruptly thrown into the Games we'd sworn to protect each other. As I riffle through my memories of the Games, tensing at the worst ones: when I watched my stylist, Cinna, brutally attacked as I was trapped in a tube before the Games began, when I thought Peeta had been killed or when he'd been taken by the Capitol and tortured for information he never had about the rebellion we'd instigated.

As though sensing my distress, Peeta turns me around to face him and presses his forehead to mine, staring worriedly into my eyes. I smile weakly at him, and once again I am incredibly thankful to have him in my arms. I know I'd probably never have gotten him back from the Capitol without the help of my best friend, Gale. Things were back to the way they should always have been with us, even though he lives an entire days train journey from us now, we still make attempts to see each other as often as possible.

Gale is due to arrive here shortly after lunch, which I've been attempting to prepare for an hour, to no avail. Gale is coming in honour of tomorrows Remembrance Day for District 12. Cooking has never been my strong suit and even though Peeta attempts to teach me what he knows, my brain never soaks it up.

Mercifully, Peeta takes the reins and begins preparing thick watercress sandwiches which he garnishes with home-made crisps—which, of course, he also prepared—and seasoned with salt and spices. Peeta calls out the window for Gloriana and Robin to eat just as the phone begins to ring. I hurry into the hallway and snag the phone before the rings stop, just as they charge into the kitchen one after the other, laughing hysterically.

"Katniss speaking," I say as I lift the phone to my ear, waving at my family to keep the noise down.

"The train from District Two is arriving ma'am," a husky voice relays immediately.

"Thank you, Wade. How is Marie?"

"Getting along just fine, ma'am. Thank you for asking," and with that, the phone goes dead. I smile. Wade is the station master at the bustling train station but he never has much patience for social interaction. I can't blame him. It has taken me a long time to become used to small talk in the streets too. Before the rebellion there'd never been much excuse for mindless chatter. I drop the phone back into place and grab my hunting bow and sheath of arrows.

I poke my head into the kitchen as Robin tosses a crisp at Gloriana who deftly catches it and launches it back long before Robin gathers his wits to stop it. I try to suppress a smile.

"I'm just going to pick up Gale," I tell Peeta who nods and grins at the bow on my back. "I won't be long," I promise. He rolls his eyes and tosses two fresh rolls to me.

"Have fun!" he calls as I tuck the bread into my pocket and pull my hunting knife from the wall by the door, where it lodged after my fit of annoyance earlier, and return it to its leather thong at my hip.

It's been months since I last saw Gale. I've missed our hunting trips, his smiling face and sarcastic comments. I've missed his woodsy smell which mingles with the scent of smoke from his fireplace and his Seam-grey eyes, almost a match for mine. I pick up my pace as the summer sun beats down on my back.

Waving cheerily to those who greet me, I make the journey into town in a relatively short time, considering. I have many names to the people of Panem: the Mockingjay, the Girl on Fire and Katniss Everdeen, but most recently and most unknown, Katniss Mellark. I twist the slim band on the fourth finger of my left hand and smile to myself. Though once I'd been divided between Gale and Peeta, in my heart I've always known I need Peeta Mellark like I need air to breathe.

As I skip into the station, which has an enormous new building designed to receive the incoming trains and passengers, I look all around for a glimpse of Gale but I can't spot him in the crowd. But then, there he is, standing atop a metal bench peering over the heads of the other travellers, searching through the swarm of people. I grin, wave my arms at him and watch as his eyes flicker towards me, a smile spreading across his face. He dives into the crowd and I push through the throng towards him. Finally I move a disgruntled tourist, obviously from the Capitol, clear by the shiny tattoos which decorate her hands, arms and cheekbones, and he appears before me.

I leap into his arms and he catches me and swings me round. We receive a few glances and irritated murmurs but neither of us cares.

"Hey, Catnip. How's things?" he asks. I squeeze him tighter and then release him to look into his face.

"Great," I reply. "How are things with you?"

"Just fantastic." He taps my nose and grabs me by the hand—I don't reject him; there's nothing romantic about it. In his other hand he holds a backpack of clothes and other things he'll need for the days he's staying with us. I lead him through the tumult of people into the much calmer street and we walk quietly, drinking each other in. He's barely changed. His hair is a shade lighter from the sun but his eyes remain unchanged. I take in the elegant cut of his leather jacket and artistically faded jeans. I watch him assess me in this way, knowing he'll certainly be noticing the locket chain visible at my neck and the mockingjay pin on my black vest that will always remain firmly attached to me.

"You look good, Katniss," he tells me. I shake my head, blush rising in my cheeks.

I don't look good, I never have; unless I've been under the capable fingers of my prep team for endless hours or I'm wearing something designed by—I stop that thought in its tracks before the pain crushes me. I'm plain, the same plain I am every day. My braid stretches down my back, I wear no make-up, and I wear skin tight pants for hunting, a plain top and my soft leather boots. Gale sighs and tugs the end of my braid playfully.

"Right, so what are we hunting today?" he asks, as though no time has elapsed between now and his last visit. And it doesn't feel as though it has.

"Hmm, I was thinking we could get some pigs or something, I kind of want bacon" I say thoughtfully. He considers this for a moment, and then his face splits into a smile.

"Let's do it."

"We can't be too long; Peeta's watching Gloriana and Robin. Not that I think for a second he can't handle them, but I don't like leaving them," I say, my words fading out at the end of the sentence. For some reason, I don't think Gale would want to know this.

"As long as Parole Officer Mellark is on the case, they'll be fine," Gale says, saluting in the direction of The Village. I laugh and tug his arm away from his face. He grins again and we resume walking.

"Peeta's protective, is all. We all are. Even you," I say, poking him in the ribs. He nods and pulls me along by the arm.

"I've brought them presents from Two," he tells me.

"Peeta?" I ask, laughing. I can't really picture Gale and Peeta exchanging gifts.

"Yes, I love Peeta," he says sardonically. "For Robin and Gloriana," he corrects me and tugs my arm slightly. I quicken my step to keep pace with him; we're both eager to hunt.

The first place we go is to our spot, our rock ledge which overlooks the valley. We can see everything, but nothing can see us. We sit for a while, enjoying the rolls Peeta made for us and taking in the view. We discuss what we have been doing since we last saw each other: I tell him about the efforts to rebuild District Twelve and the train station. He tells me about his fancy job in District 2 and all the perks he gets from it. The hot rays from the sun are soon too much for me and I start to feel uncomfortably sweaty. The rock is too hot and my feet are becoming unbearably warm in my boots.

"Come on," I say to Gale, standing up and holding out my hand for him to take.

"Where are we going?" he asks, and takes my hand to pull himself up.

"Somewhere we can cool down."

We walk up the hill for a while, following a path I know well. Soon, we come across a small pool of perfectly smooth green water. I used to bathe here with my father when I was young. I slide off my boots and socks and roll up my pant legs. Dipping my feet in the water is so relaxingly cool and pleasant; I close my eyes and lean my head back into the sun, relishing the feeling. Suddenly, water splashes onto my arms and torso and I jerk my eyes open to see Gale surfacing from a dive. He wears just his underwear and a wide grin. I roll my eyes and go back to sunning myself.

"Come in, Katniss," he wheedles. I open one eye and raise an eyebrow. There may be nothing romantic between us but swimming together in our underwear seems a step too far. The water does look tempting, though. I narrow my eyes at him and make a circling motion with my finger, indicating he should turn away. Now, it is his turn to roll his eyes.

"Look away, Gale." I warn him. He obliges but keeps up a running commentary about how ridiculous it is that I don't trust him. I do not reply until I have entirely submerged my almost naked body in the water.

"OK, you can turn back." He turns but is careful to keep his eyes trained on my face. I have to give him props for that. We swim and mess around and chat in the warm water for almost an hour before I remember my promise to Peeta about not being too long. I frown and swim to the edge of the pond, pulling myself out. Gale makes a huge show of covering his eyes and acting shocked when I don't ask him to turn away.

"The horror!" he shouts. "I cannot believe I just saw Katniss' underwear! I think I might be permanently scarred." I do not respond but merely throw his clothes in the water next to him, my expression blank.

"Oh, nice," he says, watching them float alongside him, growing heavier and heavier as the water seeps into the material. I grin at him and pull my vest over my head, followed quickly by my trousers and boots.

"Denim takes a long time to dry, Gale," I point out happily. He mumbles something unintelligible as he clambers out of the pond and attempts to beat the water out of his clothes against a large boulder. I sit on another rock, retie my braid and watch this process with amusement.

"I'm glad you find this so funny." He puts on a hurt face as he tries to wring out his t-shirt. In the heat, it doesn't take long for his clothes to dry but we have been away a long time so we move off quickly to find something to take home.

Soon, we're deep under the cover of the trees and it feels nice to know that my old hunting partner is covering my back. We move silently through the woods, our ears and eyes working overtime. This is bear territory and we are definitely trespassing. Bears do not take too kindly to armed visitors. Just when I notice movement in the trees, a twig snaps beneath Gale's foot, I lose my focus for one moment and the animal is gone. I glare over my shoulder at him, only to see him attempting an innocent look and throwing the broken stick behind a tree.

"Gale," I hiss, trying not to laugh at his weak effort of hiding the evidence. He shrugs at me and shifts the position of his bow over his arm.

"It's been a while since I've been hunting!" he whispers, trying not to laugh.

"Oh, no, it's fine; I didn't want that one anyway. It's the only game I've seen today but it's all right, we'll find more," I whisper sarcastically. He beckons me over to him and taps his foot until I oblige. I check over my shoulder and behind Gale, but this area seems to be clear of predators for the moment. I move silently to his shoulder and wait expectantly to hear what he has to say. He whacks me softly on the side of the head.

"You're not funny," he says and moves away from me.

I growl at him, but I can do no more for fear of scaring off any other animals in the area. I hurry to catch up with him, careful to keep my tread light and avoiding all twigs and leaves on the ground. One noise from me will be more than enough to give Gale licence to taunt me for the entire day.

This time, when I see movement, I don't hesitate and take down an angry young pig, attempting to charge at us.

"No more than about three or four months old. Shame that it's a bit under-fed." Gale says, checking the eyes, teeth and for any infections before hoisting the carcass onto his shoulders and moving back in the direction of the fence that surrounds the District. This fence is not the same one that was used to keep the inhabitants of District Twelve penned in, but a brand new one designed specifically to keep flesh-eating predators out.

We walk along, chatting amicably while I watch, keeping my eyes peeled for any dangers and he carries the kill. When we finally return to the fence, rather than slipping under it the way we used to, we go to a gate where a law enforcement officer sits, reading a newspaper with his back to us.

"Hey," Gale says, through the chain-link fence, "can you open the gate up?" The officer looks over his shoulder at us and smiles at the sight of the dead pig.

"That going to Sae?" he asks, nodding his head at the dead animal while slipping an access card into the scanner at his side.

"No, I'm going to get some bacon myself then I'll probably give the rest to the Hawthornes. No doubt Greasy Sae will manage to get some from us though," I tell him, remembering the odd concoctions Greasy Sae was famous for that so often kept me alive during the Capitol's reign.

We pass through the gate and the guard pushes it closed after us. I thank him and help Gale back to the house with the animal.

In the past, we'd have sold the entire pig and just kept the money. However, nowadays, money is the last thing I need. I have all the money I'll ever need and more on top of that. Since winning the Hunger Games and the spoils that came with it, neither I nor my family and friends have gone without and due to my Mockingjay status, money will never be an object. The sun is setting as we reach the town square.

"How are Robin and Ana?" Gale asks as we make our way through the quieting plaza.

"Fine. Robin's jealous of Gloriana, though. He wants to go to the park and play on the swings too but he's not allowed on his own," I tell him, a smile spreading across my face at the memory. Gale looks at me seriously.

"You know, given the right training they could both be fighters—Gloriana especially," he says, staring at me until I look at him. I sigh. I can tell he's been waiting to bring this subject up. Gale has always said that Gloriana and Robin should one day be taught how to defend themselves but I have always refused. I don't want my children anywhere near violence.

"No. She won't be. Neither of them will be. I won't allow it. They will never experience anything like what we had to." Gale stops walking and takes my arm, forcing me to a stop.

"She'll figure it out. You found your talent, she'll find hers."

"My father found mine for me, I just developed it," I tell him. I do not want my children near any kind of fighting. Gale shakes his head.

"You can't keep natural talent hidden. When I was last here she told me she'd get a stick through the bough of that little tree at the end of your garden. I told her I didn't believe it and she launched it from the front door and it hit the knot in the middle, dead in the centre. Tell me she won't do it on her own, Katniss," he says, his eyes blazing into mine. I find myself lost for words. I couldn't say I hadn't noticed Gloriana and Robin's unfailing hand-eye co-ordination and their exact aim but I usually refuse to acknowledge it.

"The other day," I whisper, "Robin told me he killed a rabbit with a stone." I look fearfully into his eyes, expecting to see my worry and concern reflected in his but all I see is silent laughter and a smugness that irritates me. "What? Is that what you want for them? I'm warning you Gale, keep any thoughts you might have about showing my children how to fight inside your own head," I say angrily.

"Well, no child can have two Hunger Games victors as parents and not be able to fight." I sniff angrily and begin walking again. Gale quickly catches up to me though—his legs are much longer than mine. "I'm sorry, Katniss. If no one else will tell you the truth, I will." I look at him sideways. I can never stay angry at him. I shake my head and push all thoughts of my children's inner violence out of my head.

As we near the house, I can smell cooking coming from the kitchen and plenty of talking and laughing. I cock an eyebrow and instruct Gale to put the pig in a little shed by the side of the house we use to clean and gut the animals. He drops the pig inside the door and follows me up the stairs. I hang my bow and quiver at the door and signal for Gale to do the same. I push open the kitchen door to see Peeta smiling at me surrounded by my prep team: Octavia, Venia and Flavius, Haymitch and Effie Trinket, our Hunger Games chaperone. My prep team all jump up at the sight of me, and immediately begin gushing about how long it's been since we last seen each other and how different I look. I smile a lot and hug them but I'm really watching Gale slide around the table, shake hands with Peeta and exchange very strained pleasantries—in recent years Gale and Peeta are behaving more and more coldly towards each other and it's really beginning to bug me.

It's nice to see my prep team, with their crazy styles that are all the rage in the Capitol and eccentric personalities that you can't help but love. I comment on Flavius' curls and how they look extra bouncy and Octavia's new, slightly darker green skin colour.

"I had it dyed for the occasion!" she tells me excitedly. Venia's facial tattoos have been extended down her neck now and I tell her how pretty I think they are, even though I believe they're absurd and just a little over-dramatic. I would never tell her that though; I could never hurt her feelings that way.

Finally, I get around to speaking to Effie, who seems bewildered by their hysteria and excitement. She smiles warmly at me, flashing her bright white teeth and pats her new blue wig, just to check it's still in place.

"How are you, Katniss?" she asks gesturing for me to sit next to her at the table. I sit and as soon as I do, Flavius, Venia and Octavia immediately follow suit and begin their conversation where they left off.

"I'm great, thanks." I reply. I glance up at Peeta who is putting out plates and heaping food into bowls which he then places at the centre of the table. I stand to help him and laugh as Gale is drawn into conversation with a very drunken Haymitch, who wants to know if he knows of any secret locations we keep alcohol.

"Where are Gloriana and Robin? They'll want to see Gale," I ask Peeta. He nods towards the front room and leans over to kiss me softly.

"Hi," he says against my lips, "nice to have you back."

"Nice to be back," I reply and squeeze his hand before excusing myself and Gale from the room.

"So, are you hiding any white liquor around here?" he asks, "Haymitch told me that I was employed as his spy and he'd shoot me if I committed treason and told anyone…"

I laugh. "If he's already that drunk, I don't think more alcohol will do him any good," I tell him and push the door to the sitting room open where Gloriana lounges on a couch playing with her hair and Robin lies on the floor moving a toy hovercraft through the air on a remote control. The television blares in the background showing a singing contest created by a friend, Plutarch Heavensbee, who was once an undercover Gamemaker for The Hunger Games but actually worked for District Thirteen and played a key role in the undoing of the corrupt President Snow's Capitol.

"Look who I found," I say and throw the door open to reveal Gale smiling, with his arms behind his back.

"Gale!" Gloriana and Robin shout at the same time and jump up from their respective areas. They both hug him and he takes his arms from behind his back and holds out two small presents for them. I feel a little worried as they take them, huge smiles adorning their perfect faces. Not ten minutes ago, Gale was trying to convince me to teach my children to fight. I hope these presents are nothing to do with that.

When Gloriana opens hers, it is a simple golden necklace with a tiny replica of my mockingjay pin on it. I roll my eyes at him; no doubt this is a subtle hint at the rebellion this symbol stood for. Ana studied the Hunger Games and the rebellion at school and she knows mine and Peeta's roles—Robin, however, knows nothing of it, and I am just not ready to rob him of his innocence quite yet. Robin's present is a pen knife, which I immediately disapprove of but I don't take it away for fear of hurting either of their feelings.

"Come on, guys, dinners ready," I say leading Robin by the hand through to the kitchen where we eat all our informal meals.

Once everyone is seated and enjoying Peeta's excellent cooking, the conversation flows and everyone is having a good time. I hold Peeta's hand under the table and as I look around at my family and friends I cannot believe how perfectly life has turned out for me. Robin flicks the pen knife open and closed repeatedly near Gloriana's arm and she continually takes it from him, snaps it closed and lays it down next to his plate. He doesn't take the hint but frequently opens it and waves it around. Eventually Peeta leans across the table and snatches it from him, winking at Gloriana.

When I was young I thought I was destined to hunt with Gale every day, have a boring job that would barely pay enough to scrape by on and live in the same house in the Seam I'd always lived in. How different it turned out to be.