~Prologue~

"Is there anything else that needs my attention today, Leevy?" Peeta asked, taking his glasses off and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He felt like he'd been staring at the screen in front of him for hours— which of course, he had. His position as First Representative for District 12 (which was what the districts were now calling their mayors) meant more hours tied to this desk than he'd like. Hours he'd prefer to spend elsewhere, doing other things.

But it wasn't all bad. He liked signing the marriage licences of the young couples that now populated the flourishing District 12, and the population was booming if the growing number of births registered was anything to go by. It still hurt that it was not his own marriage licence or child's birth that was being registered, but he managed not to show it, keeping as genuine a smile as possible on his face every time he offered each newlywed couple or new parents his warmest congratulations.

There were parts of his role he didn't like. Before he'd accepted the role, he didn't realize that Mayor Undersee had actually done a lot more than just host parties and make appearances on behalf of the Capitol. Some of the old records had survived the bombing and been recovered from the rubble of the old justice building. From reading them he had learned just how diligently Mayor Undersee had worked for District 12, lobbying endlessly with the higher powers in the Capitol to secure what meagre funding he could to feed the orphans in the Community Home, or to make essential repairs to the elevators in the mines. Now, much of this type of work fell to him and sometimes involved his having to leave his home and pay visits to the new Government Buildings in the Capitol.

"Just a couple more things," Leevy shuffled some papers together efficiently and pushed them across the mahogany desk towards him. "I'll try to let you get home before dark."

"I'd appreciate it," Peeta said as he picked up the first piece of paper and studied it. "Ripper has applied for a permit to import and sell alcohol at the Remembrance Day celebrations?" He looked up at his secretary and chuckled.

"It will only be available to over 18s," Leevy grinned back. "And only legally distilled alcohol will be allowed. Not the kind of white liquor that she used to mix up at the back of the Hob."

This was something else that had changed in Panem since the end of the war. Before, like most things in Panem, the distillation and sale of alcohol had been strictly controlled by the Capitol, not that many in the outlying Districts could ever have afforded the kind of fine wines and spirits produced by District 1 anyway. Afterwards, and after much debate on the issue, the new Government passed a protocol granting the local government of each District a much greater say in how their Districts were run, including the right to grant their own liquor licences, and to trade directly with other Districts.

Peeta nodded, and made a note on Ripper's application. "Well, Haymitch will be pleased. He likes those imported microbrews. Though I think he'll always like the white stuff best. See that a copy of this is passed on to the Sheriff's office, they may have some observations before I sign off on it."

After signing a couple more documents, he sat back in his chair and reached to switch off the computer monitor.

Leevy stood and gathered everything together, preparing to leave. "Do you think you'll make a speech at the celebrations, Peeta?" she asked quietly.

Peeta dropped his gaze back to his desk. "I haven't made up my mind," he murmured. He hated public speaking. He liked working for the good of his District, but being placed on a stage, in front of the people of District 12, reminded him too strongly of other not so happy times when he stood on the steps of the Justice Building. He still got flashbacks.

"It's going to be such a happy celebration. Ten years of peace in Panem. You should be proud. We wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for... without you and..."

"Yes, it should be very happy," Peeta abruptly cut Leevy off. He knew what she was going to say next. Without him and Katniss. Without their sacrifices. But he didn't want to hear her say it. He didn't want her pity and he didn't need any reminders of how much he and Katniss had lost, both individually and together.

"Goodnight, Leevy, have a good evening," he dismissed her.

"You too." The dark-haired woman knew by his tone that she had said too much, and eagerly turned towards the door, closing it softly behind her. Peeta sighed out loud once the door was closed. He had watched Leevy as she left the room, her shoulder-length dark hair and olive skin reminding him strongly of another Seam born woman with raven hair and flashing grey eyes.

Pushing himself up from his chair, he rubbed his neck in an attempt to relieve the bunched up tension that was resting there. He winced as his leg ached stiffly when he put his full weight on it. It had been bothering him more lately, since the cold weather had arrived.

He switched off the lights and locked his office behind him, offering a small wave of acknowledgment as he passed by the young security guard, seated at the front desk watching a bank of monitors.

"Goodnight, Vick," he called over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, sir. Careful walking home now, it's getting slippery out there."

"I will."

Peeta cautiously made his way down the icy steps of the rebuilt Justice Building, across the new town square, and into the quiet streets of District 12 beyond, heading towards Victor's Village. Very little of the old merchant quarter remained, most of it having been completely decimated when Snow dropped his bombs on District 12. All that had been left standing was part of the old Justice Building, the Community Home, and Victor's Village.

He lowered his eyes as he passed by the site of his family's old bakery, where a new bakery now stood, leased to a family from District 13 who had settled in District 12 after the war ended. A discreet plaque was mounted above the door, marking the site as the "birthplace of Peeta Mellark, Victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Tribute of the Third Quarter Quell, Survivor and War Hero".

That plaque always bothered him because there was no matching one for Katniss in the Seam. The small house she'd been born in was gone, having also fallen victim to Snow's bombs.

He passed through the neat rows of smaller homes that had sprung up where the Seam once existed, now home to the workers from the pharmaceutical factory, and trudged his way down the lane that lead to Victor's Village. He could feel the temperature dropping further as he walked, his breath fanning out in icy puffs in front of him. Just as he left the town behind, it started snowing lightly.

He passed a bend in the path, and the place that was now his home came into view, brightly lit and welcoming and he quickened his pace, eager to get back there, as he was every night. He welcomed the warmth that enveloped him as he opened the front door, stomping off the light dusting of snow from his boots as he unwound the scarf from his neck and hung up his coat.

"Meow!" a loud yowling greeted him, and he bent down to pet the scrawny orange cat that was wrapping himself around his legs. "Hi Buttercup," he smiled, scratching the old cat behind his ears for a second before disentangling himself and gently pushing him away— he didn't want to accidentally trip up on him. It wouldn't be the first time.

He could smell something delicious in the air coming from the kitchen causing his stomach to rumble, but before he satisfied his hunger he had to see her. He hurried towards the stairs and made his way straight to the first floor. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall, the largest and most comfortable. He could see the light shining under the door.

Immediately he felt himself begin to relax as he entered and his eyes fell on the sight of her small figure lying on the bed. The curtains were already drawn tight against the snowy night outside and an inviting fire was burning in the fireplace.

"Hey, Katniss," he whispered, bending down to brush a tender kiss across her forehead.

He eased himself down into the large comfortable chair that was pulled close to the bed and took Katniss' hand in both of his, weaving their fingers together gently as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Her skin felt warm and soft to his touch. He couldn't resist letting the fingers of his other hand rest against her pulse point for a second, closing his eyes and taking comfort at the feeling of her strong heartbeat beneath his fingertips. That, along with the quiet beeping of the discreet monitors above her bed let him know that all was well, that Katniss was still here, that she hadn't left him.

"Good evening, Peeta," a woman's voice came from behind him.

"Hello, Lily," Peeta turned his head slightly and smiled at the older woman as she entered the bedroom. "How was she today?"

"The same." Lily Everdeen smiled back at him and picked up a tablet from the bottom of the bed. Her fingers flew over the screen as she began inputting some notes, her eyes flickering across the monitors that displayed Katniss' vital signs.

Peeta nodded and let her get on with her observations, his gaze turning back to study Katniss once again. To the casual observer, it looked as if she were sleeping. She looked so peaceful, with her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed slightly pink, and her breathing soft and even through her slightly parted lips. Peeta took comfort from that, reminded of how she used to look when she slept in his arms during their Victory Tour. Nightmare-free. Peeta hoped she didn't have nightmares wherever she was now.

Softly he brushed his fingers over the scar just visible on her temple, the one left by the gash made when Johanna had struck her with Beetee's coil of wire on that last fateful night in the Arena.

"There is some stew keeping warm on the stove and some bread I baked fresh this morning waiting for you whenever you're ready to come downstairs." Lily finished what she was doing and moved back around to the other side of the bed, efficiently straightening out sheets and pillows.

"Thanks, I'll be down in a few minutes."

She smiled kindly and patted his shoulder. "Take your time, there's no hurry."

"Ten years, Katniss," he whispered, once Lily had left the room. He leaned forward in his chair and laid his head as close to Katniss as he could while still holding her hand. "There is going to be a big celebration in town. There will be food and music and dancing and I'd love to take you."

He smiled longingly as he moved his hand to stroke the length of the sleeping woman's hair, lovingly brushed and braided by her mother every day.

"It's been nearly ten years since I looked into your eyes and heard your voice as you told me you'd see me at midnight. I'm still waiting. So much has changed, Katniss. There is so much I want to show you. Panem is safe now. Snow is dead. There's enough food, so no one goes hungry. There are no Games anymore. It's safe for you to wake up now. Come back to me."

Notes: Hi all! Thank you for checking out this short beginning to what will become my next WIP, I hope you enjoyed it. I originally donated this prologue as part of the Fandom4LLS 2014 Collection, and the plot bunny for this story has been nipping at my heels for quite some time now.

However due to life / work commitments, I don't anticipate updating this again until the New Year at least, so bear with me! Thank you to all my wonderful friends who've supported me on this, (you know who you are) to Court for her always invaluable beta skills, and to Ro_Nordmann for the wonderful banner.

I'm Louezem over on tumblr. :)