Hey everyone, here's this new fanfiction. It's like a follow-up to Mockingjay, so it DOES have Mockingjay spoilers! Part of this may look very familiar to "In the embers of a Mockingjay," that was posted by me about a month, two months, ago. I didn't really like how I set it up, and I think that I could have written it better, so I had stopped writing for a while. Now that I have time to write, I've taken a second look at it, and decided to try again. I will most-likely continue this, however slow it may have to come, but I think I've got a better idea of what I want to do now. Hopefully you like it! I decided to pick it off sooner than I did in the old post because I thought it would make a cuter beginning, and feel more Hungergames-ish and give the charetueres time to settle in. The next chapter will be getting into Katiness's daughter It does do a little switching around in POV's, but later on it will settle down a bit and become fully the POV of the daughter of Katiness and Peeta.
POV of Katiness:
FRI :EMAIL THIS TO ALL FANFIC EMBERS FOLLOWERS!
The first thing that I feel after that night is regret. There's no going back now. Peeta is still asleep by my side, but I can't sleep. My only reaction is to get away, away from him, away from this all. I love Peeta, and last night was amazing, but I can't look at him now. Not when I know what last night resulted in. No, it isn't official, there's no way to tell yet, but I know; it was timed perfectly, we had already figured that out. I had spent 15 years avoiding our bedroom on those nights just to avoid this. And last night I didn't. Last night, I spent the night with him. And we have a child, I know we do, I can feel it. I carefully slip out of his hold as quietly as I can. Thankfully, after the years of practice I had with Prim, this is easy. He stirs a little as I make my way across the floor of our bedroom, but he doesn't wake. Once I'm out of the room, I bolt. I can't stay in this house, not our house, I need some air. I run as fast as I can out the door, and down the street our house lies on. I don't know where I'm going, but my feet pound against the gravel. I never stop running, not until I've reached the fence. The old wire fence is one of the things they left up. It may have been used to fence us in by the Capitol, but it still does its job of protecting us from the animals in the wild.
As soon as I'm out from under the fence, I make my way to the meadow. The Meadow. It's the one place that hasn't changed. It still looks exactly as it did on the day of the 75th Reaping. I collapse on the ground in the field, and I can feel the hot tears begin to roll down my cheek. We are going to have a baby. I am going to bring a child into this world. What have I done, what have we done? There is no way I can protect it, no way that I can make this world safe for it. The Hunger Games may be over, but it doesn't mean the game is over. This world is full of so many dangers, there are so many things that can go wrong, that are out of my control. And I don't know if I can do it. But there's no going back now, if this child exists, then there is no way around it. No second chances. For a moment, I feel like I am back, back in the Hunger Games. Back where I had to protect Peeta's own life. And I couldn't even do that. I let him go alone, I lost my grip, and he was taken to the Capitol. If I could let him feel that pain, how much pain was this child going to feel?
I don't know how long I sat there before I heard him, but I know it wasn't long. I heard the leaves crunching from under his feet from when he was practically a half a mile away. Peeta, he's never been able to walk quietly, not like I can. But not even this can make me smile.
"Katiness, are you alright?" he asks quietly, his voice filled with concern. For some reason this only makes me feel worse. He wanted this child so bad, and I've kept it from him for so long. And now that we most likely have one, I only make him feel bad. I only make things worse for the both of us. I wipe the tears off my cheeks and turn around to face him. "Katiness, is everything ok, are you alright?" he asks again, approaching me quickly. I try to answer, but nothing comes out. What am I suppose to say?
"Katiness," he says, approaching me slowly and caressing my cheek with his hand. "It's alright, it's going to be ok," he says.
"How do you know? How do you know something won't go wrong?" I ask him, pulling away from his touch.
"Katiness, the Hunger Games are over. This is a new world, a new beginning, a new chance," he whispers.
"But how do you know that this child will be safe? How am I supposed to protect it?" I ask. "I can't, I can't, " I begin to tremble again, and I try to stay strong and not let the tears fall. But they do anyways, because I'm with Peeta. And when I'm with Peeta, there is no hiding it.
"Oh Katiness," he says, coming in closer and pulling me into a hug. "You can do this, and you won't have to do it alone. Because you have me. And we'll get through this together, one day at a time," he whispers into my ear. "I promise."
Two Weeks Later:
I did it. I finally took the test. I had been dreading today. Dreading the day I find out that I am officially pregnant. My hand is shaking as I turn it over to look. I can feel myself shudder as I read the results. Positive. I am going to have a child. This time, the news really sinks in. But instead of running, I gather myself up and walk down to our kitchen. I make myself a cup of hot chocolate and take a seat at the table to wait. To wait for Peeta to get up. It isn't long before he is up. If that's one thing I've learned about Peeta in our marriage, it's that he never sleeps very long after I get up. I clutch my cup tighter in my hands as he rounds the corner. He raises his eyebrows when he sees me at the table. "Katiness?" he asks.
"Peeta," I start, unsure of how to approach this. I can't believe I let him talk me into this. "Peeta, I,.. we're having a baby."
I can see the smile spread across his face as he runs over and picks me up to twirl me. "Oh Katiness, that's fantastic!" He laughs, twirling me in his arms. When he finally lets me go, he can fully see my face. My expression is sullen and horrified.
"Katiness, it's going to be alright. You'll see," he says, squeezing me tighter. "You'll see." But I don't see, not yet. And I pray to God that one day I will.
Month five:
I've been dreading this day for five months. The day when I finally have to stop calling our baby "it" and start thinking of a real name. Today is the day Peeta is taking me in for an ultrasound. Before the rebellion, ultrasounds were only done in the Capitol. But after the rebellion, each district started to spread out more, things lowered in cost, and became more affordable. Each district began to become more independent. Now there is even a few hospitals in district twelve, and that's where Peeta is taking me now. I am at home, just waiting for him. He was closing the bakery early today so he could come with me. I don't know which I fear the most: finding out the gender of the baby, or going back to a hospital. I haven't been to the hospital since during the rebellion. I was supposed to go twice a year for check ups, but of course I ignore their calls and refuse to set up any appointments. The only real thing that I can remember about hospitals is doctors in white suits, and pain. And I don't want to go back there. It brings back too many memories.
But Peeta shows up right on time, and we head out the door to the doctor's. He rented a car to use to drive me there today. Cars were popular in the Capitol, but were never used in the districts. There was no need. Now that the rebellion is over, they are still trying to organize a road service, so cars aren't exactly a common household item. But we can rent them for special occasions, which, unfortunately according to Peeta, this is. Peeta holds my hand all the way there. Once we get inside, the receptionist sends us up to the doctor's room to wait. It's exactly like I imagined it, right down to the doctor himself. I shudder and squeeze Peeta's hand even tighter as the doctor asks me to get up on the table. I feel like a tribute again, being prepped and cleaned for my next interview. That thought makes me shudder.
Once the doctor spreads this gel substance on my stomach, Peeta and I look at the screen. I hold my breath as the doctor explains to us the gender of the baby. It's a girl. I can feel the pain spread from my gut to my whole body. A girl. A girl. I've already lost so many girls that were close to me. Ad now I have a new girl to look after. Why did it have to be a girl?
Month Nine:
I cry out half in pain, half in surprise when I feel the pain begin. It's a Sunday in July. It's a rainy, stormy day that my child comes into the world. Stormy and unusually cold, just like the day when Peeta threw me the burnt bread so many years before. Peeta immediately drops his paintbrush and runs over to me. At first I'm scared. Scared that I am loosing our baby. But as the contractions come again, I realize it's the opposite, the baby is here.
Peeta rushes me to the hospital to have the baby. I don't remember it all, none of it. I know there was pain, but my mind erased that pain the moment our little girl was placed into my hands. She was so small, and helpless. Her skin was so pale and olive, just like mine, and she had inherited my dark black hair. But the eyes that I saw looking up at me were Peeta's eyes, a deep bright blue. And that was the moment that I felt the joy of this child. We had a baby girl. And as I looked at her, I knew immediately what we would call her. "Rue Primrose Mellark," I whispered. Then I looked at Peeta. He smiled in agreement. Rue Primrose Mellark.
And it was that moment, that I knew everything would turn out all right. That she would grow up strong, a fighter just like me, and kind and sweet just like her father. She would learn, one day, when she would be old enough, she would learn of our story. She would learn of all the struggles, the grief, and the pain that lead up to her would grow up, not knowing how lucky she would be to have all the comforts and joys she had, or how different her life would be from ours. She would grow up without the fear and worry of loosing her family, or starving each and every day of her life. There would be pain, and grief, and struggles, and I would dread those days. But Peeta was right; this is a different time. This was a different world. And our little girl was going to grow up in it all the same, to make her own mark upon this earth.
So, everyone has a different opinion of what the name should have been for Katiness's daughter. I picked the name Rue Primrose because of the two things in Katiness's lives. One was Prim. Katiness loved Prim to death, but I think that her death scared Katiness so naming her daughter with the first name of Primrose would have been too much of a reminder of Prim. I thought she would name her middle name Prim in memory of Prim, without the memory of Prim being so overwhelming. I picked Rue as the first name because Katiness loved Rue, Rue had helped her win the Hunger Games. Rue is not only a symbol of all who died in the games and fighting for freedom, but she motivated Katiness and gave Katiness the first spark of rebellion with the flowers. That's why I choose the name. Tell me what you think of the name! If you don't like it, what would you have named her?