Chapter 1: Come Together for the Families

District 12 once again looks its picturesquely morose self as I finish up my hunting rounds.

Doesn't matter. I am going to die today.

I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier. Gale's Reaping and death in the 74th Hunger Games was debilitating. But then the the Third Quarter Quell, with its special quarter-century twist, sent me over the edge. The President announced just a matter of months ago: "On the 75th anniversary, as a reminder that whole families were torn apart by the Rebellion, the tributes will have their entire families Reaped with them except for one. This is to preserve bloodlines and give potential for new life."

Rye Mellark, Peeta Mellark's older brother, was Reaped. His eldest brother, his mother and his father were thus all forced into the arena with him. Peeta was chosen as the spare to stay behind. And then Primrose got Reaped.

I wanted to volunteer, but no sound would come out. My mother was forced in alongside her youngest child. I was chosen as the spare.

Not exactly a smart move. I have vowed to never marry or have children, so now that Mother and Prim are dead and gone, I am certain that the Everdeen line will die with me.

And I will make sure of that today.

I go into the woods with my bow, after my rounds, dressed in my blue Reaping dress for dramatic effect, intending to shoot myself through. It will be difficult, but I line up the shot as best I can. I close my eyes and breathe in the pines one last time. Prim, I will be with you soon...

"Katniss? What are you doing?!"

I drop my bow, and the arrow with it, in shock; I didn't expect anyone else to be in the woods today. No one is really supposed to be, as this terrain is beyond the fence of the district, and technically illegal.

I realize my interloper is Peeta Mellark, the Baker's surviving son. He runs the Bakery now. Still single - though I can't imagine how, with his ashy blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

"You weren't trying to..." and he gapes at me in awe.

I glower at him. "Don't try to stop me," I snarl. "I'm amazed you aren't here joining me. We've lost a lot together." His best friend, Delly Cartwright, was Reaped alongside Gale and died.

Peeta shakes his head. "You have so much more to give, Katniss. You inspire so many people! You have no idea - the effect you can have. Why, if you died, I would want to die too! I would miss you!"

I stare at him for a moment, stunned by his words. But I quickly shake my head to clear it. "Ridiculous. Nobody would miss me. Nobody needs me."

"I do," Peeta says plaintively. "I need you."

I have gone to pick up my bow again, but stop at his expression that sounds so sincere. Curious, I now watch as he retrieves an envelope for his pocket. "I... came in here to pick some herbs for the bread. And also to clear my thoughts. I was on my way back to town to give you this." He holds it out to me. A letter.

I eye it suspiciously. This all sounds just a little too convenient. Could Peeta have followed me from the Hob or somewhere in the Town or the Seam? But it's always been in my nature to be suspicious of others, and Peeta Mellark is a kind boy. I remember how he would always treat Prim to small cakes from the bakery. He leads a worthy, honest profession and is good with his hands. Hard worker. Peeta would not offer this to me if he did have nefarious purposes.

But I still frown as I take the envelope from him and open it. Peeta watches me nervously as I unfold the letter inside. "Dear Katniss:" That's all I manage to read aloud, stunned by what I am reading as my eyes scan Peeta's words on the page. In the letter, he confesses how he has loved me since we were five years old, when I wore a red plaid dress to school and my hair was in two braids instead of the single one now running down my back. How I sang in Music Assembly and he fell for me then.

"I love you," Peeta courageously gets out when my eyes rise once to meet his. Moved, my eyes fill with tears.

"You love me?" I croak out.

He nods.

I had once taken a vow of chastity. Vowed I would never become a bride and especially not a mother. But I have nothing left, and Peeta is probably the only other person in this district who can share that pain. The pain of having no one left. So, I make my decision. I shakily nod once. "OK. Kiss me."

Peeta blinks, then steps forward as he cradles my face in his hands. Like a gentlemen, he gathers his bravery and gallantly dips me like a lady, pressing his lips softly to mine.

He tastes good, and I dare to close my eyes in pleasure, though I don't kiss him back. He tastes like the flour and yeast from the bakery. I've always loved those smells, along with the smells of the woods. I feel him hoist me back up to my feet and break the kiss. I open my eyes.

Seeing him, my gaze hardens and I lose my inhibitions. Assertively, I now dip Peeta in my arms and give him an intense French-kiss in return. It's a fair trade. A kiss for a kiss. And I know how to make a trade.

I swing him back up to his feet after a moment and reel back in breaking the kiss, gasping and a little scandalized at my own behavior. Peeta looks elated.

"Will you marry me, Katniss?"

I blink in utter astonishment. Having only kissed twice and he gives a proposal? But, if he's been in love with me since we were five, it's probably been a lifelong dream of his, to call me his wife. And it would at least keep the Mellark bloodline alive, which would otherwise die with Peeta. So, I grab his shirt collar and kiss him firmly on the lips once again. I even dip him once more, and this time slip my tongue into his mouth. I hum in pleasure. "Hmmmmmm..."

I keep Peeta in the dip when we break apart. "Yes," I hiss. "But no children." I won't break that vow. Not to see them go to the Games the way the rest of my family did. Peeta, of all people, will understand this. No matter how much he might want me.

Peeta raises his lips up to mine and kisses me again. Why is it that he and I can suddenly only communicate through kisses? But we soon collapse on the grass, me on top of him. Nervously, I dare to grind my hips once into Peeta's pelvis, and he moans. Encouraged, I grope for his straining bulge in his pants, and clasp his length. I pump the shaft, readying him for... what? Me? The texture of his foreskin feels firm under soft, warm flesh.

Peeta suddenly flips us in the grass. I feel my blue dress being pushed up nearly over my head, though it doesn't force Peeta and I to break our kiss that is now turning desperate and out of control. I feel calloused hands shove my white panties past my thighs, down to my ankles.

Peeta is now kissing all over my face and neck. I actually close my eyes in pleasure as I clasp him close. All at once, I gasp, as I feel Peeta's bulging member push into the folds of my vagina that, against my better nature, are sopping wet and throbbing for him.

Peeta's hands fist the grass around us, taking some of the tendrils of my brown hair with it. He begins to thrust in and out, in and out. My eyes fill with tears at the pain, and I kiss him even more deeply to get through the discomfort as he rides me. Soon, pleasure replaces the initial pain.

Peeta grunts, and throwing my long legs over his shoulders, he pounds into me. His thrusts are becoming shallower, more desperate, as something deep within my core finally breaks. I think I recall from our Family Planning classes in school that it is my hymen. I never paid attention too it closely, as I assumed such a thing would never break within me. At last, Peeta gives a sound like none I have ever heard from a man in heat as he orgasms inside of me. Though, he continues to thrust weakly even after he is empty, to get me off.

"Uhhh... UHHHHH! HUHHHHH!" I cry out like a dirty whore as I ejaculate around him, coating his member in my fluids. As Peeta pulls out of me, I feel strangely empty, so I kiss him deeply.

"Thank you," I rasp. Here I thought I was going to die today, and instead I lost my virginity. "For loving me. For being such a good man."

Peeta smiles tenderly. "You're welcome. Always."

"I'm not an easy girl to love," I bite my lip. "Are you sure you want that?"

Peeta pecks my lips once chastely, as we stand and redress. I can see the trails of our mixed blood and his semen coating my inner thighs. "I want all of you, Katniss."

"All right, then," I say gently. "I'll come by the bakery tonight. Have the bread ready."

I don my mother's wedding dress that evening. It is the ostentatious garb befitting a Merchant, as my mother grew up as one before marrying my father, a poor Seam miner. Her parents never intended for the dress to be used to marry across class lines.

Except now here I am, once self-considered an old maid, an unbeautiful spinster at the age of 17, preparing to wear this dress to marry back across class lines... to a Merchant. Even though I'm really half-Merchant myself.

When I arrive at the Bakery, I can see that Peeta has invited a few friends. The most notable guest is Haymitch Abernathy, the drunk who won the 50th Hunger Games. I nod cordially at him.

Kneeling by the fireplace, Peeta and I toast the bread, and seal our union with a kiss. That evening, up in his room, I let Peeta unclasp the garter I wore over and slide it past my thighs. Assertively, I mount my new husband in his bed and ride him, making love to him this time. Sex for sex. Just as we traded kisses for kisses.

I should have used protection. For it only takes a few night of lying with, sleeping with, my new husband, for me to feel movement stirring within my womb. My breasts soon begin to balloon. My stomach swells. I feel womanly changes transform my body until I am surly, glowing, frail, depending on my mood that day.

"I can no longer fool myself," I tell myself at last. "There is life with me."

I go to the Fallen Tributes' Graveyard to share the news with my family.

"There is life with me, Mother," I tell my mother's headstone. "The Everdeen line won't die with me after all."

Nine months later, I give birth to twins: a boy and a girl. I name Peeta's and my son Bannock, and our daughter Poppy. I am a Baker's wife now. And a mother. But I suppose there are worse things in this life.