My mother has returned to District 12. It pained her to walk the land haunted by all she had lost so she mostly stayed un my house in the victor's village. She has spent the last few days doing whatever she could to help Effie, Venia, Flavius and Octavia.

I was doing my best to stay out of their way.

Effie, however, was a force to be reckoned with. She had put up with my disappearing acts when she was in the beginning stages of planning. Now that the event was in two days, she had become very demanding.

Two days. I said the words aloud, watching the sunset from the roof. "I am marrying Peeta Mellark in two days."

I had known this since, honestly, before the Quarter Quell. But for the past seven months, I'd had a date to count down too. I had felt the preparations as Effie, my wedding planner, called daily, asking my opinion on this or that. I had been organizing and reorganizing my house as Peeta slowly moved in. It wasn't until last week though, that it had become real. That was when Effie and my old prep team had arrived from the Capitol laden with plans and supplies, make-up and fabric.

I had balked at the fabric, the yard of silk and lace and tulle. It was for my wedding dress. They and my mother had arrived with the intent to make my wedding dress. I had told them time and time again that I wasn't wearing one because whenever I closed my eyes I saw him. I saw him and the wedding dress that was pounds too heavy with its delicate stitching and the look of pride he wore when I was clothed in his most exquisite design. When I thought wedding dress I thought of the light and heat of the interview stage, his gold flecked eyes and his dainty hands demanding that I spin. When I thought 'wedding dress' I thought of him and how he was lost.

They could put as much make-up on me as they liked and they could clothe me in anything they liked. Anything but white. On this issue, I refused to budge.

"Katniss?"

I looked over the edge of the roof. He was standing there, arms outstretched as though I was falling and he had to catch me. My heart fluttered at the sight of him. He smiled as though he knew what I was thinking, but it was only a small smile. There was something on his mind.

Concerned, I scaled down the side of the house. My bare feet sunk into the damp grass and I studied his face. It was clear, unlike the clouded look he wore when the past returned, when the hijacking took over again. But his face did look heavy.

Almost hesitantly, I was still getting used to this new layer of Peeta and I, I placed my palm against his cheek. It was warm and solid, just like he was. I spread my fingers but he didn't lean into me like he usually did. He reached up and took my hand in his.

I opened my lips, but he shook his head. Instead we began to walk, very slowly. I waited for him to speak, trying to hold in my own impatience.

"I was cleaning out the last of my things," Peeta began than stopped. I nodded. He had been cleansing his house for weeks. We were approaching his front door. His hand tightened around mine. "I found something that I must have forgotten after … everything. Something of yours."

I was confused as he took me down to his basement. His lips brushed my temple as I turned to find answers in his eyes. His gestured toward a rickety old kitchen chair, the only thing left in the room. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

I watched him go, his slightly uneven footsteps fading. It was only once I heard him upstairs that I crept forward. I touched the light switch, flooding the room with a glow. I sucked in my breath. It was like a sucker punch. It was Clove's knife on my cheek again. It was a black garment bag with a white envelope stuck to the front and written on it, in his elegant hand, was Girl On Fire.

I didn't move for the longest time. My legs were trembled. Half of me wanted to run to the envelope, to drink in his words, to hear his voice again. The other half wanted to run to Peeta and bury my face in his shirt, hide away from the last time I saw him.

I took a step toward the envelope, and plucked the thick paper from the bag. I didn't even want to think about what was in the bag. One of my many interview outfits, something special he had whipped up for me, another mockingjay costume? I didn't even consider it. I sunk to the floor and undid the seal. I tear filled my eye as I took in his writing again, as I felt those powerful eyes meeting mine again. I blinked the memories away, struggling as usual, to stay in the present.

Katniss,

It has been my honor to serve as your designer and your friend. I am sorry, more than you can imagine, that you have been thrown into this war, into this position, but I knew you that you were the one. From the moment I saw you on the television screen, with the fire in your heart and the suffering scrawled across your eyes, I knew there was something special about you. And finally meeting you, a stubborn girl with the wisdom of a thousand generations … I was even more determined that you be the one to make it home, to make Panem the place I know it can be.

I know that my trick with your wedding dress will bring the wrath of the Capitol down upon me but I will not regret that. I will regret that I will not see you, the greatest person I know, in the height of your success. I will regret that I will not be there as they cheer your name and that I will not be there to comfort you as you suffer, as I am sorry I know you will. But, don't forget about hope. Never forget hope, Katniss. Never forget that, as many eyes turn to you, you can turn yours to the sun. You are much stronger than most, and use that to your advantage.

You are miraculous, but you must remember hope and trust. You must remember that good will triumph and emerge from the ashes of the bad. You have good memories to turn too, I remember you telling me them over the phone, not so long ago.

I know that the mockingjay dress will lead to my death, which is why I am leaving this in the hands of Peeta. I know that he is the best person, for he is your opposite, and he is what you need. I cannot give this to you myself, for it is not time. I will miss you, my girl, but I will always be with you.

No matter what happens, I am still betting on you, girl on fire.

-Cinna.

I read the words again and again. How long ago had he written this? I caressed the black ink as though it would bring the man to life again. The words seemed to be about the rebellion, but I could sense something deeper underneath, as I always could with him. He had the habit of saying one thing, but meaning another. It was one we shared and it was one reason why we understood each other so well. He was talking about my whole life in this letter, as though he knew I would end up here, with my heart laden with death and my hand in Peeta's.

I tucked the letter back inside the envelope. Why couldn't he have been here with me now? Why couldn't Prim be with me now? I leaned my head back again and heard the crackle of the garment bag. My curiosity took over as I reached the for zipper. It would kill me if it was another mockingjay outfit, but somehow, I didn't think it was. I closed my eyes and pulled the bag open. I paused for a moment before I opened my eyes.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I couldn't make a sound. I reached forward, but didn't dare to touch it. I didn't want to stain the purity of the white, destroy the memory of the look in his eyes as he nodded in approval when I first shimmied into it. He had known all along, hadn't he, that this was my dress? The one I wore on stage must have been a replica. He had taken my wedding dress and hidden it in Peeta's basement, because he had known me better than I knew myself.

My envelope clenched in my hand, I fled the basement. I ran for solace and found Peeta's arms. He didn't say a word, just held me as I rocked back and forth. No tears came, but I still fisted Peeta's shirt and held him as tightly as I could. As I concentrated on Peeta's breathing, another sound rang in my ears, the sound of a memory. "I'm still betting on you."

I cried.

Peeta rubbed small circles on the small of my back as I sobbed, breathing half incoherent words in my pain. "Not fair … I need … what if … wrong … the rebellion … always watching … betting … jay … fire."

When I was more calm, Peeta lifted me on the counter. He held my hand and kissed my forehead. "Katniss?" He prompted.

"Did you know?" I whispered. "What was in the bag, did you know?"

He shook his head, eyes never leaving mine. "If I did, it was lost to me when the Capitol …" he trailed off, not needing to say another word.

"It was a wedding dress." The words dropped from my lips, heavy as stones. "The wedding dress Cinna made for me. The one I was supposed to wear for the Capitol wedding."

Peeta's eyes flared and his face froze as he tried to think over the hijacking, back to before the Quarter Quell when he thought we were really getting married and there was nothing to fight against. He relaxed again and took in my expression. "I don't understand." He admitted.

"Peeta, he made that dress for me to be married in the Capitol surrounded by self-centered people with President Snow's eyes on me! How can I wear it without thinking of then? How I can wear it without thinking how he should be there to dance with me at my wedding reception?" I threw my arms around him. "I can't believe he is gone sometimes. He was so wonderful. I wish you had known him better. He knew me like no one else." I held back the tears. "He left me a letter and said that I had the 'wisdom of a thousand generations' but that was him. He knew that I would marry you." I finished lamely, feeling I had not explain Cinna quite right.

"I can't tell you what to do about the dress," Peeta said slowly, "but if you want, I can tell you what I would do."

"I can't wait to hear what you would do if you had to wear a dress," I said in a monotone.

A smirk pulled at one side of his lips. "You loved Cinna, didn't you?"

I nodded, like a child. "Not the way I love you, or Prim, or Mother, but I loved him."

"He wanted you to have that dress. He made that dress especially for you, regardless of where you wore it. I think that, if you're comfortable, you should wear it, as a tribute to Cinna." His eyes held mine, "like how you are walking down the aisle with a bouquet of primroses."

I thought of the basement, and, at the least, my heart ached at leaving Cinna's most beautiful creation in that cold, damp room. "Will you bring it home for me?" I asked.

Peeta nodded. Reaching up, he cupped my face in his. I tensed at the sudden feeling of claustrophobia before forcing myself to relax. This was not a warzone, nor was it the hijacked Peeta who had once wrapped his hands around my neck. This was my Peeta. He pressed his lips to mine, and I kissed him back with a passion. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer to me. He jerked unsteadily on his fake leg before balancing himself by placing his hands on the counter.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" I begged in his ear, my chest heaving from our heavy kissing.

"I don't want Effie hunting me down." He whispered back.

"Do I have to go home?"

Peeta rested his head on my shoulder. "Two days, Katniss, and we'll be married."

The thought of the wedding terrified me more than any of the Games ever did, but I didn't tell him that. Instead, I nodded.

"Mother will be looking for me." I dropped off the counter, landing lithely on my feet.

"I will bring the dress over in the morning."

"Thank you."

I kissed him one more time, and slipped out his front door, letter clutched in my hand. I was almost home when I looked to Haymitch's house. The light in the kitchen was still on. I headed for it.

"Haymitch!" I didn't bother to knock.

"What?"

Good. He sounded sober.

"I just came to visit." I found him bent over a pot of peppermint tea, of all things.

"A visit?" He rolled his eyes. "I have a bone to pick with you."

I took a seat and poured myself a cup of tea. "Go ahead."

"I hear you're not wearing a wedding dress."

"The last time I wore a wedding dress I got a man killed," I retorted.

"No, you didn't." Haymitch glared at me. "That man sacrificed himself. And it wasn't a wedding dress. It was a Mockinjay costume."

"The real dress is in Peeta's basement." I surprised myself by telling him this.

"Are you wearing it?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell Effie this?" Haymitch grunted. "Because all I've gotten for weeks is 'get that girl to wear a dress, Haymitch. Goodness knows you deal with her better than I do'."

"I just found it tonight." I omitted the details. "I want to surprise everyone."

Haymitch shrugged.

"Can I ask you something else?"

"Shoot," he said, and chuckled over his pun at my prowess with a bow.

"Will you be the one to walk me down the aisle?"

I had seen Haymitch kind of speechless before, but this was like I froze him. He didn't move for the longest time, and I thought something was medically wrong with him.

"Why you want me?" He finally forced out.

"Because I won't have Effie do it." I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly.

"All right girl. I'll walk your precious behind down the aisle." I could have sworn he smiled. "No, go get your beauty sleep."

"I'm not getting married for another two days," I protested.

"You might want to sleep for all of them."

I couldn't help but smirk. Everything changed. Everything, that is, but Haymitch.

*TWO*DAYS*LATER*

Effie wasn't particularly happy with me, I could tell. Neither was my mother but both of them would just have to deal with it. I wasn't revealing my wedding dress to them until Haymitch walked me down the aisle. My prep team flounced around me. As Venia plucked hair from everywhere, Octavia worked on my nails and Flavius brought me the phone.

I stared at it warily. Apart from a few, short, conversations with my mother, I didn't use the telephone anymore.

"Hello."

"I just saw the funniest thing."

"Peeta? Why are you calling me?"

"Well, I can't see the bride until you walk down the aisle and I just had to tell you about this."

I winced as Venia tore all the hair from my privates. "I could use a laugh right now." Flavius began to work on my hair on my head. "What's so funny?"

"Haymitch is in a suit."

"Who are you talking too?" Haymitch's gruff voice overlapped Peeta's.

"Katniss," Peeta answered him.

"Give me that damn thing." There was a noise, which I assume was Haymitch grabbing the phone from Peeta. "Katniss."

"Haymitch."

"I just wanted to let you know that I look a hell of a lot better in a suit that Peeta does."

"I'll keep that in mind." I promised him. "But I have to go." My prep team was trying to drag me into a standing position so that they could put on the purple outfit they thought I was wearing down the aisle.

"See you soon, Sweetheart."

"You too, Haymitch. Tell Peeta I love him."

"Tell him yourself."

Haymitch hung up the phone. I turned to the prep team.

"Katniss, honey," Venia held up the purple silk pants and top, "are you sure about this."

"I have a surprise." I strode to my closet and pulled out the garment bag. "I'm wearing this."

Flavius was the one to pull down the zipper.

"Oh!" The prep team gasped as one. All of their eyes filled with tears as we took a moment to remember the man who had created and sewn the dress.

"Well," Octavia said through her tears, "let's get you dressed, honey."

They helped me into the dress, which fit me perfectly, like the first day I'd put it on. They stood in a semi-circle, admiring me. I stared in a mirror, admiring myself.

A knock at the door broke us out of our trance. "Let's go Sweetheart!"

"We'd better go get seats," Flavius grabbed one of Venia and Octavia's hands and dragged them out the door, letting Haymitch in.

He looked at me and whistled. "Well, you clean up real nice."

"You too, Haymitch." He offered me his arm. "You don't look as ridiculous in your suit as Peeta led me to believe."

"Told you." Haymitch maintained as we took our cue from the music and began to move toward the back door. I was having an outside wedding, and my backyard was done to the nines in flowers and ribbon. Peeta stood under a trellis.

The doors opened as Haymitch and I stepped through. There was a collective gasp from the crowd, and a wail from Annie and Finnick's baby, but I ignored it all. All I was aware of was the warmth of Haymitch's arm and the way Peeta was gazing at me.

Haymitch placed my hand in Peeta's. I turned and kissed Haymitch's cheek. "Best of luck to you, Sweetheart." I swore there were tears in his eyes.

"Thank you."

The government official that was to marry us began to recite the ancient wedding vows of Panem. I just held Peeta's hand, my grip increasing as the official reached the end. "You may now kiss the bride."

Peeta swept me into his arms and down into a dip before pressing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck, my primrose bouquet crashing into the back of his head. We were married! I took a deep breath as Peeta rightened me. I looked over at the crowd of my friends and remaining family. I smiled at my mother, but something caught my eye.

A man in the back, dressed from head to toe in black. No one else seemed to take notice of him, but his golden rimmed eyes instantly caught mine. He smiled and my eyes bubbled over with tears. He sent his index finger into a spinning motion.

I threw my head back, the sun splashing on my face, spread my arms and twirled for him.