Author's Notes:

If you love AUs, please check out Prompts in Panem over at Tumblr. :D They have a seven-day Hunger Games writing challenge and this time it's dedicated to AUs. This is my submission for day 1, where Everlark is re-imagined as one of the many legendary couples. My take on this is adapting Katniss and Peeta as Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth of Jane Austen's Persuasion. No need to read the novel to understand the one-shot :D

There would be many a remembrance tonight, and not only because we were going back to my home, to the family estate my father had to let to the Crofts as a result of his imprudent spending, but also because the ball tonight was in his honor.

His sister and her husband had arranged this celebration to welcome him back to the country after his naval exploits. Drunk with joy at the news of his triumph overseas, Admiral and Mrs. Croft had yet to inspect all the rooms at Kellynch Hall when they sent out the invitations.

So here we were, on a borrowed carriage because ours was sold, wriggling in seats that had long given up its comfort years ago, on our way to Kellynch Hall at dusk long before the party would start at my silly father's insistence (so the guests would have not a doubt on their minds as to whom the manor truly belonged to still).

If my father felt any slight to his pride, his lined face showed not a hint of it. His disposition had been sour ever since he had to part with his beloved Kellynch Hall. But to see it being used to honor a person of obscure birth, only the sums from the Croft's payment, as Mr. Shepard our accountant discreetly pointed out, could allay his strong objections.

I saw my elder sister's knotted forehead reflecting the same sentiments as my father. They were so alike, in temperament, in vanities, in wants, and in their disdain for the social mobility of those who had recently come into money, like the Crofts.

The manor's pillars came into view at last and my sight was glad for the respite from both my father and my sister's crotchety expressions.

It had not changed, and of course it would not, since I had left Kellynch Hall only a few months prior. But the feeling can be likened to the delight of meeting an old, trusted friend. I saw my sister crane her neck to look at her garden when we passed it. My father could not help but air his opinion on the state of the weeds.

But more than seeing Kellynch Hall again, more than the tenderness of sentiments it inspired, I knew it would be a trial to my nerves tonight when I see him again.

He would be more than what he was when I grievously wounded his honor eight years ago, since I rejected his proposal of marriage. He had been conferred with the honor of captain for his illustrious rise in the navy. He was Captain Peeta Mellark now.

The carriage came to a stop and I took a pause from my thoughts. The footman opened the door and assisted my father first, then my sister, and then me.

The cool air brushed against my cheek and I could hear the opening notes of the songs to be played at the height of the evening being practiced. My father and sister had already entered and I had to quicken my pace.

The Crofts received us, but the guest of honor, to my nerves's delight, was absent.

I had a few more hours of deferment until I can face the full consequence of my actions that had been echoing in my conscience for years.

But soon the ballroom was filled, first with the slow trickle of the townsmen in their unbelieving luck at finally being able to enter Kellynch Hall, then the carriages unloaded the nobility and they proceeded with their upturned expressions, then finally the ballroom brimmed with the merry sounds of the violins and the wine-influenced conviviality.

I preferred to remain near the edge by the walls and windows and watch the festivities rather than join in.

After many shared smiles and bows with the guests, I traversed from one of the windows and squeezed between the backs of two gentlemen, overhearing my father mention to one of them about the chandelier when one of the gentlemen asked if it had just been purchased.

"Why yes it's fairly new. My family procured it in 1750."

And my frivolous father directed their attentions to the statues that lined the other wall.

I walked still. Only a little farther and my hands grasped the knob of the side hall's door.

I opened it and went inside, leaving the din of the ball behind.

I was greeted by the silence of the receiving room that had not changed.

Father's leather seats were still worn and the antique tapestries still evoked that need to expel the dust from one's nose. Father's favorite book, the Baronetcy, in all its leather-bound majesty, which chronicled all the respected, titled, landowning family (we were included, but of course), rested in the low table in the middle of the room.

Walking towards the window where the moon shone, my fingers traced the silken trim of the sofas.

It was here, seated and drinking the last of the teas from India, that Lady Russell, my mother's most trusted friend and who had been so much like my own since my mother's passing, persuaded me against the engagement with Peeta. I could still recount how many times she pursed her lips in disapproval.

"It will be an ill-thought engagement, Katniss. I am sure the young man has his charms, but a young woman like you needs more than charms to maintain her position. It will not be overlooked, especially by your father, that your Peeta Mellark is not high enough of consequence. He spends freely what comes freely to him and had realized nothing. You have a duty to your family, young lady, to marry well."

And Lady Russell drained the last of her tea and I folded my hands and made the painful decision I had not made peace with yet. I thought then of how I would break the news to Peeta, of how I would gently break his heart, and watch him walk away, burdened with the sadness of the world.

But unlike the man from my memory, the man I saw now out the window, riding a beautiful horse that was coming towards the manor, glorious in the pale moonlight, exuded a virile figure honed by the sea.

And in comparison, as I touched the curtains when I drew nearer for a closer look, I was frail, for my health had not been in its best state lately and my youth had waned at seven-and-twenty years.

He dismounted with ease, stood proud in his distinguished naval uniform and walked towards the door beneath the room's balcony, and he was hidden from my sight.

I walked out of the room, none the better than I had been eight years ago when Lady Russell advised me, with a heaviness constricting my chest. The ball's vivacity hit me once more.

I reached for another glass of wine from one of the servants, but the excitement of the crowd over Peeta's arrival pushed a gentleman to me and I spilled my drink a little. The small drops running down, tracing the veins in my hand, reminded me of the rain that soaked us that afternoon when he asked for my hand.

We had been on our way back from church and had taken a walk instead of the carriage. Spring was shyly blooming, like the blush on my cheeks whenever I was with him and was sprinkled with the tenderness of his affections, of which he gave most freely.

And like the thunder that came from nothing, he took my hand and swept me up to him, our foreheads touching gently, the sweet giggles escaping our lips, and he said the words that asked my permission that we be joined in the sight of god and men. And I gave my answer just as the rain dropped and we had to seek shelter, delirious in our happiness, at another nearby rectory.

I saw his slate blue eyes sweeping the room then. Admiral Croft introduced him to the guests, and just before his eyes reached mine, I lowered my head.

I was not ready. Perhaps in a few more minutes or hours. Perhaps in a few days.

But I would never be ready.

I searched for my sister, my path looping around the ballroom to seek whatever familiar comfort she can offer to my poor nerves.

I was nearing her and father when I stopped, for I saw that they were talking to the Crofts and to Peeta.

My father's eyes scanned Peeta's face for any of the ruddiness he disliked in sailors. My sister subtly scanned his uniform for any loose thread, any indication that he was still that inconsequential young man from before and she could put him in his proper place.

I wanted to turn back but Lady Russell caught sight of me and all their heads turned towards my direction.

There was nothing to do but smile and put on my unaffected mask that had allowed me to navigate the delicate structures of society for as long as I had breathed.

As I walked, I felt his eyes on me, perhaps scrutinizing if the woman who broke him years ago was still there or if she had been altered beyond his knowledge.

And when I was there, at last, I looked at him for a second before his sister, who had been unacquainted with our past engagement, eagerly introduced me. His eyes had not been dulled by the wars but shone, perhaps more brightly, with that quiet fortitude that first drew me to him. His face lost the poundage of a youth well lived but was replaced with a vigor that emanated from the slope of his jaw. The lips that kissed my hand and bewitched me with his confident wit were still supple.

Peeta Mellark beguiled me once more and a furious hope flared in me, that perhaps now that the unkind years had passed and cooled the passions ignited by the slight, we can begin again, more so now that his fortunes were more than what my father could hope to have at present and there would be no objections to our union.

He bowed upon the reintroduction of his sister and his eyes never left mine.

The music flowed to a sensorial melody and Mrs. Croft insisted that Peeta take me as his first dance of the night, much to the consternation of the other ladies in the room.

I did not look at my family and walked with a gentle gait to the line that formed in the middle of the ballroom, under the mellow light of my father's chandelier. I felt the hem of dresses of the other ladies as they spun but Peeta and I continued until we reached the other end of the line. We stood facing each other and tuned our steps to the rhythm.

Our delicate dance began.

A holding of hands, a dip of knees, a turn, a twirl.

I broke the enchantment as we switched places.

"It gladdens me that you have returned to the country, Captain Mellark. Have the siren calls of the seas lost their allure on your person?"

Another pivot, the touching of palms, and a turn around the person to the left before facing one another once more.

"No it has not, but my beloved sister had advised me that it should now be my object to marry, if I could be properly tempted."

The way he parted with his words, so freely, as though there had never been a history between us, had encouraged an agitation, but I had my mask. I replied.

"Without a doubt, there will be a girl here equipped with beauty and smiles and enough compliments to the navy that should tempt you. You need not look far."

"Perhaps there is truth to that, Ms. Everdeen. You should also add to those exemplary qualities a strong mind with a sweetness of manner, one that cannot be persuaded so easily by the opinions around her. For what use have I of a girl with an inconstant character?"

His bitter words struck me and it pained me to think that he was inflicting the wounds so incautiously.

The music had reached its frenzied height and I looked at Peeta's eyes then. His cold politeness and ceremonious grace were worse than anything as he danced with me, but bereft of the passion that burned between us eight years ago. I knew not how to redress my folly but I knew then, as the music receded its sweet melody, that I was running out of moments.

I implored him with my eyes, for him to know my sentiments and what still burned in me, know them like the prayers he whispered to his god at night. I could only reside in his light or nowhere at all, not when faced with this second chance.

I whispered, unmindful that we were already out of step, despite the coolness of his gaze, "How do I make amends, Peeta?"

And he gave me a long, withering look that reflected all the humiliation at being judged by his fortune, anger at my feebleness of character, and pain at my betrayal when he had given himself to me unreservedly.

He did not let me down gently, unlike how it was eight years ago when the circumstances were turned. In pain, I could see it now; his future would be unencumbered and buoyed by his victories, perhaps with a wife of stronger character, whilst mine shall remain unclear, growing hazier at every passing year.

We paused as the music ended.

We distanced ourselves from one another.

There was nothing else to do but smile and put back my mask, hide behind it while I relive this moment without end, that dousing of reality when I had never felt regret more acutely.

Then Peeta turned, left me alone, and I watched him walk back to the guests with exuberant spirits, while I walked towards that door at the side of the hall again, where all of this began.

I closed the door and the din faded away once more.

I was alone with my thoughts and the memories that seared my heart, the only things that remained of us.

I had loved none but him, but Peeta Mellark did not love me anymore.