Disclaimer: I DO NOT own The Hunger Games, I must pass that honor to the queen of literature: Suzanne Collins!

Just as a reminder/ heads up, this story is an AU story, and will have changed personalities as far as the personalities of Peeta and Katniss. It has mild language in it, so beware of a few curse words here and there.

Summary:

This is a fanfic where Katniss is actually the baker's daughter, and Peeta is the son of a coal miner who dies in an explosion. There is (obviously) more to the story than that... But you're going to have to read on to find that out c:

-Burritoyum

-Edited and Revised-

Chapter 1: Discoveries

Katniss POV

My eyes snap open seconds before the scream settled in my throat makes its appearance. I let out a deep sigh as I attempt to collect myself and my heavy breathing. This has become my regular routine every night since I was little. Before, they were almost always about my mother's hand or rolling pin crashing upon me, but ever since I turned twelve - ever since he turned twelve - they've been a terrible mixture of both my mother and the Hunger Games.

The Hunger Games... My eyes widen with realization. Today's the day that two kids from our small district will get towed away to their deaths. Of course there's always a slim possibility that a tribute from District Twelve could win, but the truth is that nobody ever does. Most kids just accept the fact that their young, innocent lives are over and that they will in fact die in the sick form of entertainment that the Capitol forces on the districts each year.

Well, I suppose I should count our only living victor, the drunk of the district named Haymitch Abernathy, but he won the 50th Hunger Games twenty-four years ago. This would be perfectly fine, if he was sober enough to actually help our tributes. So, in turn, two wooden boxes with both dead tributes arrive every year, almost never even making it past the initial blood-bath.

It's sickening, but in every way like the Capitol. This, of course, is a thought I can never voice. It would be considered treason, and my death would be "accidental" or my body never to be found. President Snow makes sure to confiscate his less-than-loyal subjects discreetly. Another thing I despise about our government.

I sit up, distractedly running a hand through my hair as I think about the people who I fear to lose most to these games. My brother, Rye, is in his last year of Reaping with only seven slips in, and my eldest brother is already over the age limit of eighteen. My best friend, Madge, has only five slips in, the minimum for sixteen year olds, because of her father's position of mayor, though that doesn't tame the wild worry that tramples repeatedly over my thoughts.

I take a deep breath.

Then there's always him. The boy I'm foolishly in love with, the one who trades his game with my family in the mornings, who single-handedly has to carry the burden of finding food upon his shoulders for his family.

Peeta Everdeen.

Ever since I was little, Peeta's always stood out to me. Well, I suppose he stands out from everyone in the Seam. His wavy, golden hair and bright blue eyes are characteristics of a Merchant, and very much sets him apart from his fellow Seam inhabitants.

It wasn't his looks, however, that seized my heart. It was his skill with words and art that won me over. It was quite hard for me not to fall for him with his sweet yet shy smiles and words that would make even Ceaser Flickerman bow his head with shame. Adding his amazing talent for art into the mix just caused my heart to swell even more for him. Being the baker's daughter, I have a love for art - though I'm not much good at it - and have considered offering him a job of icing cakes. Right now, my father does this while I bake the breads and cake bases, but it would be an opportunity to get to know him better, and that of all things, is most important to me.

I roll my eyes at how terrible I sound, like one of those lovesick blondes that skips around the school gushing about their latest source of affliction. As if. It's just difficult not to gush - internally - over Peeta, though. He's easily liked by all people, and to my ingratitude, is popular with the girls. It doesn't help that his blonde hair seems to shimmer when the sun hits it, or that his blue eyes could put shame to the sky on its clearest summer day. His mother passed these traits on, being a Merchant who left her life of the town for the love of their Seam father.

Crap, Prim! How could I forget about sweet little Primrose Everdeen? It's her first year in Reaping; I can't imagine what she must be feeling right now. I would easily consider Prim and myself friends; like Peeta, she's very friendly and easy to talk to. She knows about my love for Peeta, and I know about her love for his best friend, Gale's, brother Rory. I'd consider her my sister if we looked alike at all. Her light blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes are a big contrast to my dark hair and grey eyes, along with her bubbly and polite attitude in comparison to my dark and sullen self. Yes, I don't fit in with other merchants nearly as easily as Prim and Peeta could. My looks are those of the Seam, due to my great grandmother's Seam blood, I got her hair and eyes. Neither of which I'm necessarily ashamed of. It just sets me different from the other merchants.

Looking outside, I see that the sun hasn't yet risen. My mind still slightly hazy, I decide that I'm not going to be able get any more sleep and swing my legs over the edge of my mattress to stretch.

I pad over to my small closet and pick out an old 'Mellark's Bakery' t-shirt and some pants, putting on my leather hunting boots, and silently make my way down the stairs while putting my hair into its usual braid. I look up at the moon that sits high in the sky as I scurry out the bakery's side door, deciding that it must be around two in the morning. I still have plenty of time before the bakery opens and Peeta comes to trade his game, which I'll admit we don't actually need.

I guess you could say I'm fairly generous towards the blue eyed Seam boy, but it's the only way he'll take any food from me with his stubbornness that matches mine so well. I sigh, knowing I'll never gain the confidence to ever talk to him, much less speak to him about the possibility of a job offer.

Making sure the other merchants are still asleep in town, I quickly but silently make my way towards the fence, knowing it won't have power, and slip under the area I've made just by the Merchant's area of town.

If Peeta - or anybody else - ever found out that I hunt, they would think I'm crazy. They would think I'm delusional or monstrous for killing animals that I don't need to survive; but the truth is that I do need to hunt to survive. Mother has always hated me for my appearance, and feels that since I look like someone from the Seam sector of the district that I should live like one too. Which in simpler terms means that she refuses to feed me the same food that she eats, or even the scraps. When I was little, I remember my stomach used to growl for days, and I would eat nothing but the occasional chunk or burnt or stale bread. My father was never aware of this, though he's been aware ever since I've started eating and cooking my game rather eating with them.

These are my hobbies, my lifelines. Hunting and singing. I'm positive that nobody knows about these besides my father. I desperately hope to keep it that way for a little bit longer.

I shake my head, as if to rid myself of the remembrances. Humming, I stalk over to the bush of strawberries that I hide my bow and quiver under, and walk a little further to feel more secure. Checking my snares, I curiously wonder if Peeta's ever found one of them. Now, feeling like I've put enough distance between the district and myself, I start to sing quietly. All the birds stop to listen, as they were said to do for my great grandmother. I walk deeper into the woods that I so often find peace in, position my bow, and lose myself in the greens and browns of the forest. This is the only place I've ever felt truly at peace. For the next few hours, I leave behind all my worries and cares, and let each step further into the spans of trees and shrubbery draw me away from the harsh reality of life.

Peeta POV

I wake up sweating and breathing heavily. Inwardly groaning, I turn over to put my arm around Prim, only to find her spot empty. Panic immediately overtakes me, remembering the nightmare I had just woken up from. She had been reaped and taken away along with District Twelve's drunken mentor. I scan the dark room frantically, my eyes darting around until I find her small form tucked up against our mother. A wave of relief washes over me. She must have had a nightmare last night and gone to my mother for comfort. A small pin of jealousy pricks at my heart when I realize that I had not been enough to comfort her, but I quickly push it away as I quietly climb out of bed, already treading towards my hunting boots and jacket.

The sun hasn't quite risen yet, but I know that I won't be able to sleep further tonight, so I make my way out of our small Seam house and towards the weak spot in the fence. I yield as I approach it, listening of signs for electricity, though I know it's never on. Once I deem it safe, I slide under it and begin my trek into the woods towards the log that I keep my bow and arrows in. Stealthily, I glide through the familiar woods and relax more and more as I'm able to put distance between me and the musty district. The woods are where I can truly appreciate the land's vibrant colors and beauty, while the district is plain and dull, where grey coal dust coats the buildings, streets, and in the winter months, snow.

While thinking, I barely pay a glance towards the squirrel that I shoot. I glance down at my kill and see that I've shot it right in the eye, just the way the baker likes them. I feel myself liven up at the thought of the bakery, and more specifically, the daughter of the baker. Katniss Mellark. Katniss Mellark is the girl I've had a pretty large crush on for years. I don't know what it is about her, but I can't seem to forget her. I still remember the first time I saw her.

I was walking home from my first day of school on my dad's shoulders with my mom beside us, holding a tiny Prim in her arms. My dad said he'd wanted to celebrate a successful first day with a trip to the bakery, and being five years old, I would have never turned down a trip to the bakery. Especially if it meant seeing Katniss, whom I'd developed a crush on that day when I saw her in pants and not a dress, as the other Merchant girls were dressed in, and playing in the mud rather than with the dolls.

As we approached the Mellark's, my dad gave me a playful wink, I'd already told him about how amazing Katniss was in my eyes. Giggling, I stuck out my tongue at him. Walking through the door, Prim was fascinated with the little bell that signaled our arrival. As we waited for Mr. Mellark to come out to the front, a soft voice sang beautifully from the next room over. My father looked at me briefly, and he must have seen something in the look in my eyes because his face soon split into a large grin. He pulled my mother lovingly to his side, but all I could focus on was that voice.

I was straining to listen as swift footsteps approached, until a girl with two dark braids came through the door singing, still oblivious to the fact that my family standing by the door.

My eyes watched her intently, never leaving her small figure. She was singing a song that we learned today in class, called the Valley Song. Unaware we were in the room, she hauled a pan of bread to put on the counter. Katniss turned around as my dad's boot scuffled against the floor, her eyes going wide as she dropped the pan of bread on the ground, scattering its contents.

"Oh! Hello, Peeta and Peeta's family!" she greeted us with a blush and shy smile as she bent down to start collecting the pieces of dough quickly, her brows furrowing as she glanced over her shoulder worriedly.

"KATNISS!" we heard an angry shriek call, and I watched as Katniss flinched. All at once, her confidence disappeared and replenished itself with fear.

"Here you go," she whispers to us as and stands on her tip-toes to reach over half of the counter, sliding four cupcakes with our names on them in neat handwriting. "I made them for you! Well, my daddy iced them, but.. I hope you like them! He said he knew you'd come by this afternoon, and that you were nice people," she paused hesitantly, her head snapping up as loud footsteps stomped down stairs. "But, uh, momma can't know I made them, is that okay Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen?" the words tumbled hurriedly out of her mouth. We all nod, not quite sure what else to do.

She flashes us a smile of gratitude before responding to her mother,"Y-yes momma?"

"KATNISS, WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT DID YOU DO THIS TIME YOU-" her mother's mouth snaps shut when she enters the room and sees us standing here.

She smiles largely, only to diminish as she sets her eyes on my mother.

"Hello Lilian, Jason. Will you excuse me one minute? I need to talk to Katniss for a second," she smiles widely at us again, but all coldness that had left her voice took its place within her eyes. We nod reluctantly, and within seconds, Katniss is dragged by her arm into the other room.

"KATNISS EMILINE MELLARK! What did I say about screwing up, you worthless seam brat?! I don't care if you're my daughter, you will never be a useful edition of this family! Now go on, I can't stand to look at your face."

We hear a smack and a small, fragile wail. "I'm sorry, momma. It wasn't their fault, honest! I tripped and fell, momma. I deserve whatever you'd give 'em. Please don't-" her small voice is cut short by her mother's hiss at her to keep her voice down, which is followed by another clanging sound.

My father looks at me with a sad expression, my mother has tears in her eyes, and we leave the bakery as quietly as we can.

On the way home, I asked my dad why her mom treated her like that, but he just sighed and stared at the disappearing sun over our district.

"Sometimes, Peeta," he said quietly, "the best people get the hardest of lives."

The next day at school she had a welt on her cheek and a black eye, and days after that she had bruises where her sleeves and pants couldn't hide, and I couldn't help but feel sadness for this selfless girl who was stuck with a life worth so little.

I'm drawn out of my memory by the sound of feet and a faint rustling that only my hunter's ears can pick up. I turn with my bow drawn, only to see my best friend, Gale, coming over to me with a grim look on his face. I lower my bow, sharing the expression painted onto his face.

It's Rory's first reaping, as well as Prim's, and I know that it's hard for him. Hell, I'm positive it's hard for him. We've both made sure that our siblings won't have to take out tesserae, hopefully ever, so Prim and Rory will both only have one slip in.

But even this could never seal the fates of our siblings.

"Hey Gale," I greet him with a half-hearted smile.

"Hey, Peet," he says back.

"Prim made cheese for our breakfast today," I tell him, trying to lighten up the tense silence that's fallen around us. It works.

"I've got some blueberries and bread, so the cheese will be great with them as well. We shall have a feast this morning!" he tells me triumphantly. One thing I've learned is that the woods are the only place Gale will ever smile - with the exception of his house.

"You've gone to the bakery already?" I say. My disappointment must be written all over my face, because he chuckles and tells me, "Don't worry, I haven't seen your girl this morning. The bakery's not even open until after the sun comes up," he says pointing upwards. Right. Should have thought that one through. My face burns as I recognize his words. Your girl. If only..

I shift uncomfortably on our rock and he chuckles again.

"Calm down, blondie. I'm just playing with you. I feel like we need a little cheering up, or else we won't have any hope left. And.. speaking of cheering up," he proceeds his next words in a surprisingly accurate impression of our district escort, Effie Trinket, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds..." he tosses a blueberry at me, to which I catch in my hand before popping it into my mouth.

"Be ever in your favor," I finish the sentence in a high pitched voice. We both share a laugh while gathering our stuff to go back to hunting.

We silently walk through the forest, but soon realize that something is off. The birds are too quiet, and the forest takes on an eerie pause.

And then we hear it.

One by one, the mockingjays that hide away in the gnarly branches of the trees begin to sing a tune, mimicking a soft but rich voice.

Gale looks over at me, his face holding both confusion and admiration.

I wrack my brain furiously, and quickly come up with a thought. Could it be... ?

My breath catches in my throat and my heart beats wildly against my chest. I don't wait around any longer once I've made up my mind.

I rush forward, my legs pumping furiously as I make my way toward the source of the song, but it's so damn difficult with the mockingjays that repeat it over and over.

"Peeta!" I hear Gale call from behind me, his voice on the edge of annoyance, but I don't care. I know that voice; but what would she be doing out here?

I almost think that we've gotten lost as the trees become blended into one canvas of brown and green. I stand there, panting as I listen for the mockingjays to begin singing again, but am met with silence.

No, I couldn't have lost her so quickly. I make my way towards an area neither Gale nor I have ever thought to explore.

My hand reaches out to inspect an empty trap that hangs from a tree. The marksmanship on it is extraordinary, and I can't help but admire the mechanism.

I strain my ears, listening for something, anything. And then a faint, melodic sound reaches my ears, and I take off again.

I spot a large field from beyond the tree line, and I slow my pace.

The view before me is magnificent.

Katniss is sitting in the middle of the field, carving an intricate bow with a knife, and continues to sing a beautiful yet haunting song. The few rays of sunshine that have arisen are focussed on her, reflecting off her eyes and making them seem almost magical.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where they strung a man they say murdered three

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight at the hanging tree

Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tr-"

She stops singing and snaps her head towards me when Gale moves in silently beside me, panting.

Her eyes widen and she bolts upright and opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it again with a deep blush.

"Katniss..." I say, my hands coming out in front of me as if trying to calm a scared deer. I don't want to ruin the beauty of the scene before me, the way her eyes seem to glow, the small patches of red that speck her cheeks; she's radiant, she's beautiful. She's-

"What are you doing in these woods? Don't you merchants have enough without stealing our game?" Gale asks, his voice angry.

"I'm sorry. I really am, it's just that- I-" she stumbles through her words, her fingers twisting together nervously and her eyes darting around fervently, looking at everything but us.

"You have no business here, Merchant," Gale spits, "You have everything. You don't need game, we do."

"I'm- I'm sorry, but-" she sputters, but Gale cuts her off again, him voice booming as he takes a step forward. My arms reach out roughly, pushing him back. Why is he acting like this?

"But you find this fun, that's all this is to you, isn't it! Just a little hobby, a sport. Do you know what this is for us? This is survival. Our families would die-"

"I'm sorry," Katniss says, her face scrunched up painfully, but her voice void of any emotion. Then, all at once, her face loosens into a blank gaze, her voice strained.

"Mother, please! I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she screams out, her figure falling to the dirt. "Mother, please! It's been so long.. So long since you let me-" she flinches as her arms move to her ears.

My breathing quickens, and I shoot forward. All I want is to comfort her, all I want is to make her stop reliving what obvious horror she's going through.

The moment my hand touches her shoulder, she scurries back, her eyes closed.

"Katniss?" I call out in a hoarse voice. This is not the Katniss I know, is not the Katniss that people at school are intimidated by. In front of me is a scared girl, who's lived a harsh life.

"Katniss," I try again, this time my voice cracks. It pains me to see her like this.

Her head shakes and she bites her lip, hard.

"I- Sorry," she says again, and for a moment I think she's still within the grasps of whatever just happened. "Peeta, just, I'm- sorry. Just a- just a moment," she grits out through clenched teeth, and I nod, even though she doesn't see it.

In a moment, her shoulders sag with exhaustion, and she lifts her face from her hands slowly, looking up at me. My eyebrows are drawn together with worry, and I notice the deep circles that lay beneath her light grey eyes.

She takes one look behind me - presumably to Gale - and shoots to her feet.

Questions race through my mind all at once, and I look her in the eyes, trying to detect an emotion, any emotion to give away what she meant, but her face just blanches and she puts on an impassive mask, making it impossible for me to know the true meaning behind her words.

She crouches and picks her bow and quiver up before standing. Her eyes dart to the left, and I'm too slow to realize what she's doing before she bolts.

Gale and I run after her, but she's just too fast. She's able to duck under and through small spaces that just slow Gale and I down. When she's ducked out of our sight, I sigh and slow down, trying to let my anger simmer a bit before lashing out at Gale. He stops and leans over panting with sweat dripping from his face. I snap my head to him and let my remaining anger out on him.

"What the hell was that, Gale?!" I yell at him. What was that? I could have had my chance to actually talk to her before the Reaping and he opens his mouth to insult and interrogate her.

"I'm sorry, but she has no right to be killing animals that we could have for sport. What we do is one thing, we would starve without our kills. But her? She's a merchant, she could have anything she wants, food included. She lives in a goddamn bakery! Why should she get-" he starts, but I cut him off.

"Didn't you hear her? You know how cruel her mother is! Would you honestly put something like this past her?" I ask furiously. His face goes pale, knowing I'm right.

"I didn't see her leave with any kills, though. She just took off. Do you think she left anything there?" he asks. I can't believe the nerve of him. He chases her off and then wants to take her kills? I'm about to punch him when he says," No, Peet. I don't want to take her kills for myself, but we both know that any good meat she'd gotten would go to waste - if there is any."

I huff, but reluctantly agree, and we backtrack to the field and go over to where she had been.

In her haste, she did seem to leave her things. Walking over to them, we find the bow she had been carving, and I gently pick it up, admiring the craftsmanship of it. Maybe she had been the one to set the snare?

"Peet..." I hear Gale call, followed by a low whistle. I walk over to where he stands, holding Katniss' game bag, and my breath once again leaves me.

She's caught more than Gale and I manage in a day together, and each and every one is shot cleanly through the eye, with no puncture marks in the body.

My heart swells at the sight. Katniss Mellark, a merchant, the baker's daughter, is more than what anybody would think.

She's a highly skilled huntress.

I hate it, but suspicious eats away at my gut. Why would she ever need this much meat, if she isn't hunting for the 'fun of it'?

For the first time, I begin to dread facing Katniss, but quickly dismiss it. I want to see her once more before the Reapings, because when you live in Panem, the odds are never in your favor.

*A/N:

Hey you guys, thanks to all who have read this so far, and I hope you enjoy this.

Please don't forget to write a review and favorite/follow this (only if you like it, though.. of course), and thank you so much for being patient with me so far!

I had been stuck as to where I'd wanted to go on this story, but after going through and making some a-bit-more-than-minor changes, I've found the writer's block to diminish, so woohoo! c: