Chapter 1: Gentleman Caller

It is another quiet night at our home in the Seam. Or at least, that is what I pretend, as I busy myself setting the table with my younger sister, Primrose. Tonight is the evening meal following the Reaping for the annual Hunger Games, and all families in District 12 are having the evening meal to celebrate that their children have been spared another year. All families except for two, anyway. At 16, my sister just survived her fifth Reaping. Only two more to go. It should be a reason to celebrate, indeed.

All the same, I frown as I watch Primrose add a third plate to our meager table. Mother almost always takes her meals in bed, where she has been ridden since the death of our father nearly a decade ago. "Is Mother joining us tonight?" I nonchalantly ask.

My baby sister starts a little, as if she has been found out, and even blushes a little. "Uh... no. We have a guest. I ran into him in the market after the Reaping, and he asked if he might pay a call."

I can't help but smirk, my curiosity piqued. Prim with a boyfriend? She is old enough, and I marvel at how she has blossomed into a fine young woman. With her blonde hair and Merchant features, she is fairer than I am, and I'm twenty. Boys will be lining up to Toast the bread with her.

"And who might your gentleman caller be?" I tease. I guess - though it isn't really a guess - Rory Hawthorne. He and Prim have been dancing around each other since they were small children.

Oddly, Prim flinches again, her eyes nervous. "Um... well... it's not for me. He asked to pay a call to you."

I freeze, my mouth dropping open in shock. Normally, my pride would demand that I stalk from the room in anger, but my sister made an honest, even innocent mistake, so I can't really fault her. But the question remains: why would I be getting a gentleman caller? My sister knows well my opinions on marriage, opinions that I have held since I was a young girl. Opinions formed in no small part due to the death of our father, and how this event all but destroyed our mother emotionally. I should at least be thankful that it was Prim and not Mother who trapped me in this evening. Even from her sickbed, most of Mother's conversation to me has revolved around me taking a husband before she passes, all under the guise that she wants to make sure that I'm "well taken care of." Never mind that I have told Mother more than once that I am never getting married. Considering she lost her husband, I would think that Mother might be sympathetic to my reluctance to entrust my heart to any man.

Then again, perhaps what I want is something that Mother has never even considered, preferring instead to focus on what the family needs. And that is money. Economic security. Mother has been running a decent Healer business ever since she married Daddy, at least until the accident, when Prim took over, but her pay was at the mercy of whatever the poor people of the Seam, and the struggling middle class of District 12 in general, can afford. Primrose is only sixteen, still not safe of the Reaping, so she can't be married off. That leaves me.

Thank goodness I haven't changed out of my blue Reaping dress - the nicest frock I own. For just then, I hear a knock on the front door.

"Get that, will you?" Primrose asks, being sure to send me an apologetic look as I go to obey. Opening the door, I involuntarily shrink back, clapping a startled hand to my mouth when I realize who has been invited to dinner.

Darius Freeman is a 20-year-old Peacekeeper in District 12, distinctive for his flaming red hair flowing down to his shoulders, and his unusually friendly demeanor. Unusual for someone of his profession, anyway. When I have traded in the Hob for the game I hunt to feed my family, he has always bartered handsomely for them... even if in between these, he has openly flirted with me, haggling for a kiss as payment. It is a trade I have always rebuffed.

"Hello, Katniss," Darius beams.

"Hello, Darius," I reply, shifting my braid back behind my shoulder nervously. "Won't you come in?"

After dinner, Primrose makes herself scarce, saying that she is going to check on Mother in her bedroom, leaving Darius and I to talk. Darius resorts to carrying what little conversation there is, as he helps me wash the dishes at the sink. For someone as blunt and even coarse as me, I am grateful that he gets right to the point.

"I care for you deeply, Katniss. You are one of the most admired women in the district. As strong-willed as you a beautiful - quite the catch. Would you consider accepting my hand in marriage?" And he takes my hand with a smile.

Even as I was half-expecting it, his proposal nonetheless shocks me. I don't answer for a long time as I think it all over, weighing all the Pros and Cons in my head. Marrying a Peacekeeper, even a private like Darius, is exactly the kind of economic security that Mother has been seeking for me. For a poor young Seam woman like me, there are only a few options for advancing above my station. One would have been to become a Victor of the Hunger Games (a feat that District 12 has only accomplished twice in the last 76 years, and only once by a woman). More than this, I would be the wife of a Capitol official, guaranteeing for me a level of safety that the rest of the district could only dream of. There would be no hassle in being assigned a house, as all couples must go through when getting married at the Justice Building; I would likely move into Darius's home in the Peacekeeper Barracks.

However, every Pro has a Con to go with it. Darius explained to my family and I during dinner that he is paid a "healthy stipend" as part of his commission. The only problem is, I don't know what he means by "healthy." And if what I have seen of the accommodations in the Barracks is any indication, I highly doubt that such a stipend could sustain two people, especially a husband and a wife. Besides, my trades are mostly conducted through barter; rarely am I paid coins for my kills, so I would not add to Darius's income in any meaningful way. Yes, marriage to a Peacekeeper would grant me safety, but what kind of safety is left out of my control. On the one hand, it could mean my ability to conduct my illegal hunts and trading with absolutely no fear of repercussions. On the other hand, a status as a Peacekeeper's spouse could add an extra level of scrutiny that would make such hunts all but impossible.

Then there is the issue of the Barracks. Darius may have his own house, but the Peacekeepers still practice communal living. Theirs is a militarized lifestyle with relatively few opportunities for romance or sex. Though marriage for them is not technically forbidden, it is highly discouraged by higher-ups in the ranks, so most cadets abstain from marriage in favor of illegitimate couplings that more often than not result in bastard children without fathers. To have a woman in their midst, even if I would be the wife of one of their own, would not prevent Darius's comrades from trying to have their own way with me. I may be able to one day submit to being a wife, but I would be a faithful wife. Not a trophy wife and definitely not a sex toy to be passed around or otherwise change hands. Ultimately, I would be in close quarters as a form of temptation for other men, and have little privacy outside of Darius's one abode. Perhaps not even that.

Then there are the Unknowns. Would Darius expect me to sleep with him? Surely yes; it's what spouses do. And the proposition of sex has never excited me before. Besides, sex - especially the unprotected kind - often leads to babies. Babies who grow into children who are Reaped for arenas to die. Would Darius want children? In openly marrying where there is technically no rule against it, he would be free to pursue fatherhood with me. But I have never wanted children or to become a mother, for fear of losing them to the Reaping. So that is something I will not abide. What if Darius were reassigned to another district? If I were his wife, I would be compelled to go with him to wherever a new commission might take him, thus leaving behind my homeland and my family. What other difficulties would come from marrying a foreigner? For Darius is not from District 12, and our people take great pride in marrying one of our own kind, right down to class. Even marriages just between Merchant and Seam - like my parents' - are rare and frowned upon. Would I be seen even more differently in taking a husband who hails from one of the Career districts, possibly even the Capitol itself?

But of this I am certain: even for someone as adverse to sex as me, I cannot deny that Darius is handsome. He must be attracted to me, flirting with me and proposing, but I can't imagine why he would be. I am mostly skin and bones, with small breasts, and none of my mother or sister's more Merchant features.

As I am thinking all this, I have been absent-mindedly running my fingers through Darius's hair, sizing him up. I gaze into his deep blue eyes. He squeezes my hand and brings me back to reality.

"Can I kiss you?"

I blink. He is the only man who has ever asked me for a kiss before. But no one has ever kissed me. I have always been cold towards the subject. However, a kiss might be the best way to determine if Darius and I have potential, if I feel anything deeper for him at all.

I raise an eyebrow. "May I kiss you?" I correct him. Then I shrug.

"All right."

Darius beams, almost as if he is pleasantly surprised. "Then, you'll allow it?"

I nod grimly. "I'll allow it."

Darius's hands encircle my waist and the back of my neck. Pulling me tight against his body, he kisses me full on the mouth.

I gasp as his lips seal over mine. I am unsure, as the sensation of kissing a man is brand new. I feel Darius's lips open up against mine and I try to match him, so that his tongue slips in between my parted lips and down my throat. I let out a choked, gargled sound at the contact. Darius is a good kisser. My skills, however, remain to be seen. I weave my fingers into Darius's hair, pull him closer and shut my eyes, doing my best to kiss him back. Trying to sell it, I fling one arm across his shoulders.

As we kiss, Darius's hands grope lower, beneath my waist. I feel him touch my butt, cupping one cheek and giving it a squeeze, and then he boldly raises my leg to hook around his waist, so that the hem of my blue dress rides up on my thigh. I don't fight it, as I cradle my hips against his, and even wriggle my pelvis along the clear evidence of his desire for me. It is a stiff, long thing, and it leaves me strangely curious. Encouraged by this, Darius sweeps me into a dip, bending me back over the counter. I close my eyes in pleasure and surrender fully, purring contentedly. "Mmmmm..."

At that moment, the door opens from across the room. I lean back and wrench my lips free of the kiss, our arms still around each other and with my leg still in a compromising and very sexual position. My face and kissed lips flush in mortification as I briefly look askance to see my sister staring at us, open-mouthed.

"Primrose," I gasp, my breasts heaving with arousal, my irises dark and not leaving Darius's eyes. "Go back to Mother. Not a word." She knows enough to obey. Eyes wide, but appearing... almost pleased, she silently backs into our mother's bedroom. Even after the door closes, Darius and I do not move from our position.

"Yes," I find myself breathing. "I will marry you."

Darius beams, and with our eyes heavy, we wordlessly move as one and share another long, deep kiss.

When a woman gets married in District 12, there are really two ceremonies that she goes through. The first is the official one hosted by the Chief Clerk in the Justice Building, signing the marriage license so that you are wed in the eyes of District 12 law. The second ceremony occurs in the privacy of one's home - assigned by the Capitol. The newly married couple toasts a bit of bread over their hearth and share it, sealing it with a kiss. No one in Twelve feels truly married without a Toasting.

Primrose helps me in front of the mirror, changing me into Mother's wedding dress. Then she escorts me to the Justice Building, where my groom awaits in full Peacekeeper regalia. Mother is also present, her bed wheeled into the spacious office. Though she has been fading in earnest, she is aware enough to be happy and see her eldest daughter get married.

The Chief Clerk blesses me and Darius. "I now pronounce this couple husband and wife." He turns to Darius. "If you like, you may kiss the bride, Private." Darius takes me in his arms and kisses me; I kiss him back as Primrose dutifully applauds.

That evening, Darius carries me across the threshold of our new house, just on the edges of the Peacekeeper Barracks, and we Toast a bit of bread over our hearth. With Primrose and Mother watching, by the light of the fire, Darius and I share the bread. I had to teach my spouse what to do, but he seemed enthralled by the tradition in a way that I find cute. The glow of the embers dancing in my grey orbs, my lips slightly parted, I tilt my head and permit my husband to kiss me. As Darius and I embrace and passionately kiss, the coals in the fire slowly swallow the heat, letting the fire die in the night.