PART ONE
TITLE: BACK TO THE ARENA: REALIZATIONS
THIS STORY IS MEANT TO BE USED AS A FILLER TO THE ACTUAL BOOKS, CATCHING FIRE AND MOCKINGJAY. THE PLOT STAYS THE SAME BUT THE METHODS ARE CHANGED. THIS IS THE WAY I FELT THE CHARACTERS AND STORY SHOULD HAVE BEEN.
PART ONE; BEGINS IN CATCHING FIRE ON PAGE 194. WHEN THEY ARE ON THE TRAIN.
Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touched my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go...
BACK TO THE ARENA
Chapter 1
Realization
I wake up screaming. Peeta pulls me in closer. I realize I am sobbing. Not just crying, really sobbing. He wakes fully pulling us both into a sitting position, "Hey, hey... wake up now, tell me about it. That usually stops it," he says.
"Cato... he pulled you over the side of the Cornucopia with him. The mutts dragged you away and were tearing you apart piece by piece. You kept screaming my name, but I only had one arrow left... and I couldn't even see you it was so dark. I stood on the top of the Cornucopia shouting and raging at the gamemakers." There, I got it out. But it doesn't feel out.
"It's over Katniss, it didn't happen. It was just a dream. I am right here holding you like always," he says soothingly.
But I'm not having any of it. "It's not over!" I say. "We are on a train headed right back to the arena."
He's quiet. No arguing with that.
"I..." I stammer. "I don't want to lose you."
He sighs painfully. He knows his plan to sacrifice himself for me, so I will survive, just as much as I know it..
"Katniss. I could never willingly let you die," he says.
"That's our dilemma, right?" I respond. "You know, I've had a lot of time to think. Back in our cave things got all messed up with the cameras watching everything we did and said, broadcasting it to all of Panem. I was terrified I was going to lose you to blood poisoning, having to play it up for the cameras so I could get you the medicine you needed so desperately. Then Clove almost killing me and knowing my death meant your death. Everything was about staying alive. Surviving. Don't think, don't feel, just move, follow your instincts. After we got back to 12, I was just so... rattled. I was home, Prim, my mother, Gale, Snow's threats, Rue's death, the people I killed visiting me in my dreams. It was so hard to make sense of everything."
"I know," he says.
"No, Peeta. You don't know. You don't know what I mean. That first night on the training center roof when you told me you would die being yourself. You were so powerful. When we were standing on the starting plates and you already knew my thoughts and shook your head no at me. I was so mad at you. I thought you did it to mess me up on purpose, but deep down I really knew you were warning me. When you took up with the Careers I thought, there now he shows his true colors. Then you yelled at me to run... saving my life. Rue told me how you fought Cato to protect me," I continue, "That kiss in the cave, that real kiss..."
Peeta nods his head. He knows the one I mean, he felt it too. "Katniss," he breathes softly.
I put my finger over his lips to hush him, "You deserve to know. I didn't expect you Peeta. I didn't expect what I'd feel for you," I thought about his apology to me back in 12, when he covered my pain from the peace keepers the day I jumped the fence,, his announcement to Rue and Thresh's families to receive a month of our earnings each year, the way he gives away free baked goods to the hungry, how he holds me night after night battling the nightmares, the way he's loved me. No strings, no expectations... unconditionally. "If I lost you... I don't think I could survive, " I finish.
Peeta was for once, at a loss for words.
Hot tears escape my eyes and trickle to his chest. He pulls me in even tighter. I am emotionally spent. It's a whole lot easier not feeling at all. Less exhausting. I crash to sleep so tangled around Peeta that there is no air between us. Soon it becomes hot. Neither of us cares, neither of us draws away. Neither of us will let go.
….
I wake slowly to the morning, calmly bringing myself out from the realm of sleep. No nightmares, just peace.
"Wow," I whisper out loud.
"Wow, what?" he's already awake.
"I haven't slept that soundly since..." I shake my head. "I don't know how long. Thanks." It was a real gift being able to war off nightmares. I shifted myself and looked up into his eyes. My warrior. My Peeta.
"I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you in the arena, you know," Peeta says firmly.
"Yes, I know," I whisper back. "Me too."
The sun pouring through the windows heralded our arrival into the Capital, spiraling us headlong to the Quarter Quell and into the realm of nightmares turned to reality. We pulled each other in, not knowing our fates.
Effie knocked on the door. "Come on, Katniss. It's going to be a big day." Even Effie's voice was deflated.
I squeeze my eyes shut hard, then open them resolved. No use in pretending. I slip on my shoes, "I'll see you soon," I say to Peeta.
As I started out the door Peeta said softly, "Yeah, see you soon."
I smile a sad smile and force my body out the door.
…...
CATCHING FIRE PAGE 260. AFTER THE INTERVIEWS AND KATNISS WONT LET PEETA GO TO HIS ROOM FEARFUL THEYLL BE SEPERATED FOREVER.
We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the make up and meet me in a few minutes, but I won't let him. I'm certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I'll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand.
Chapter...
THE PROMISE
I step into the warn shower trying to wash the terror of tomorrow off and away from me. Trying to make my brain think of anything, but I couldn't make it stop. Like the intensity of a gruesome implement of death bulleting it's way to it's target. Peeta and I being the targets. I let the stream wash over my face, breathing slowly, focusing on the water. All of a sudden my heart starts to palpitate. The water was Clove's knife slicing into my head, blood trickling down my face. A sensation rips across my calve where the fireball had scorched me. I felt Enobaria's razor sharp, tapered teeth tear into my flesh. I scream clutching my midsection, folding myself into the bottom of the tub. I couldn't make the water stop. I couldn't move my hand to even reach for the handle, and it felt like fire raining down on me. Suddenly it was off and Peeta was wrapping me in a plush white robe.
"It's a flashback Katniss... and a panic attack. It's going to pass. I'm right here, I'm right here," he says soothingly, picking me up out of the tub. His strong arms encase me in his strength and comfort. He settles us down together on the floor with me in his lap and begins rocking me back and forth.
"You're shaking. Come on now, come back to me. You're hungry and exhausted. Look, I've set up a picnic for us in the room. I'm not leaving you tonight. I don't want to leave you ever," he says.
Soon, my breathing calms. The fear abates, my heartbeat returns to something close to normal. Peeta presses his lips into my damp hair.
"I could stay like this forever," I whisper.
"Okay," he says, mimicking me from the roof yesterday.
Peeta places both hands on the side of my face and turns me to look into his eyes. He examines my state if mind. When he seems satisfied he says, "Come, look what I did." His head tilts toward my room. Our room. I nod. He helps me to my feet, takes my hand, and leads me into the bedroom.
"What?" I gasp when I see it. A huge, real smile consumes my face.
"I know they've got cameras set up all over the place in here. I didn't think that was very fair. I thought we deserved a little privacy, so I made a sanctuary," he says, and goes about showing me his elaborate
design. First he had taken the clean extra sheets from the closet and tied the ends into the ceiling tiles all the way around the bed, creating a large, private, enclosed tent.
"It's perfect Peeta," I say.
"That's not all, Tada!" he pulls the curtain back to the side. Sitting on top of a tall end table was fresh ripe strawberries, buttery croissants, a pot of steaming hot chocolate and two mugs all on an elegant silver service set just like the one my mother had brought with her to the Seam when she married my father.
"You're perfect, Peeta."
He was surprised and clearly pleased by my compliment. Then he doesn't move, frozen in thought.
"Go," I break the spell. "Take your shower. I'll be all right now. I'll wait for you."
"Okay," he nods and walks into the bathroom.
After I heard the shower water start, I settle into the over sized armchair, towel dry my hair and comb it out. The chill in the air puts me in mind. I turn to the darkened fireplace and smile. I can do something to add to this scene Peeta started. I pick up three of the logs set in a large basket next to the hearth. In my hands I realize they aren't real wood. Somehow it was synthetic made. I figure they probably only burned to a very specific temperature and intensity so as to not allow a trapped victor to burn the building down. I put it out of my mind and within seconds the logs were lit. A gentle flame danced across them, flickering and casting it's light on the sheets Peeta hung from the ceiling. The sweet scent of forest pines delicately infused the room, tricking my mind into believing I was outdoors in front of a cozy campfire. Usually the Capital scents are so pungent and sickening, but this smelled purely natural.
"Now that's perfect!" Peeta says from behind me. I am so at peace, I don't even startle. I turn to look at him. My breath catches. Dampness was clinging to his thick chest and arms casting a sheen across his skin in the firelight. His blond hair messy and wet played over his forehead. He had pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms that tied just below his navel, showing off the strong fineness of his midsection. My mouth opens and my breath is audible. He smiles at the effect he is having on me and closes the distance between us.
His hands bury themselves under my hair at the back of my neck, his fingers entwine with my dampened tresses. His thumbs lovingly caress my face. His strength nourishing me.
"Please," he says. "I need you to eat, It'll make you fell better." He leads me onto the soft blanket of the bed and pulls back the sides of our sanctuary just enough to let some of the warmth and light of the fire create a hearth in our little makeshift home. Peeta brakes off a piece of croissant, dunks it into the mug of hot chocolate, blews on it gently, then places the offering in my mouth. Our eyes lock on each others. It was delicious, and warm and sweet. Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore. A different desire replaces it.
Something that Peeta thought about forces him to break our gaze. "I don't think this is the perfect time, but considering our circumstances, their probably won't be a better one."
"What is it, Peeta?" I'm curious and worried. His expression is so set, so serious, whatever he is about to do or say he means it. It makes me nervous.
"I don't know how long the rest of our lives will be." he says. "I've wanted to say this to you for real, not the staged script in front of the people sending us to our deaths. Just you and me, just us. I love you with everything I am and everything I hope to be." He takes my hand in his. "If we died tomorrow or lived one hundred years I would always want to be with you. Would you marry me Katniss? Here tonight and for always?"
With no hesitation I breathe, "Yes." We kiss with a resolved passion, a commitment, a seal. When we part for air, he turns and lifts the untouched croissant into his hands. "Tradition?" he asks.
I felt the love my merchant mother and Seam father must have felt for each other and the passion that made my mother give up the comfort she knew for him. I could imagine my dad looking into her blue eyes and silken blond hair. I felt an ebb of forgiveness toward my mother, now knowing how his death broke her heart.
"Yes, tradition," I smile with the warmth of his idea spreading through me.
We rise to the hearth. The flames of fire dancing merrily across his face and chest. Everything else in the world faded away and the only reality was the present. Peeta and I and our toasting. I was truly happy. Happier than I've ever felt in my life. We speak intimate promises and vows to one another, toast our bit of bread in the fire and feed our pieces to each other. We place the rest of the bread in the fire, the flame consumes it. His bread, my fire.
"You know," he says "Maybe our first toasting was when I burnt that bread so I could give it to you. I'm so sorry... I should have walked it over to you. I should have been sneaking you bread everyday in school. I didn't know. I didn't understand how bad it had really gotten until that day."
"You couldn't have known Peeta. You have no blame," I smile, "The next day it was your eyes that even brought me to the dandelion."
"I remember," he says. "In the school yard. I had almost worked up enough nerve to talk to you, then I couldn't. And then I saw you pick up the dandelion."
"It gave me hope," I tell him. "I realized it was spring and I could hunt like my dad. I went to the meadow that night and we feasted on the seconds of your beautiful bread and fresh dandelion salad. You gave me hope," I finish.
"I loved you then, and I only love you more now," he says.
"I love you, Peeta," I say for the first time, the palm of my hand cupping his face.
I could feel Panem's boring gaze over our lives and onto their television program. Not tonight, my mind rages.
I tenderly take Peeta's hand, looking at him knowingly, and guide him into our shelter, closing the opening behind us.
I look up into his face. This could be my last night alive, I think. I realize I am hungry. Hungrier than I have ever been in my life. I press my mouth into Peetas. His passion meets mine. His fingers tangle in my hair bringing me even closer to him. My hand goes up to his shaped arms, my finger tips trail the lines and cuts of his muscles. The effort causes my robe to cascade down my arm and exposes my shoulder. Peeta pulls back and examines the delicate, undressed skin. His hand touches where the robe has fallen. "White, like a wedding dress," he muses.
"Just like," I agree.
His mouth moves to my ear. His lips breathe warm air over it and he whispers, "I'm in so love with you, Katniss."
"Then make love to me," I say suddenly.
He presses his cheek to mine, pausing.
I continue, "I don't want to die without ever having known you. I don't want to spend the last night of my life horrified of tomorrow." I take his face into my palms and turn him to meet me. I want his expression. I need his eyes to speak to me. "I just want to melt into you. To experience our love, until I can't feel anything but you," I say.
His mouth comes down on mine with a fevered intensity. None of our other kisses even come close. His mouth tastes of chocolate, heat, and love.
(LEMON 1 INSERT M)
(Title: Toasting Night)
We move together. When we finish, we lay wrapped in each others arms. He finds my hand and our fingers entwine. Once our pulse rates slow we turn our heads to look at one another at the same time. We both laugh. I feels so good to laugh. All of a sudden I'm starving. So is Peeta. We feed each other ripened strawberries, finish the golden croissants and cooled chocolate drink. The fire in the hearth had turned to embers. Blazing like my dress had during the interview. Like my heart was.
"Come on," he says and offers his arm as a pillow, drawing me down next to him.
I used to think the Capitol had "made us," what Peeta and I were. And that Gale was the natural choice, but the Capitol had made us just the same. In fact, the Capital had dictated my life since my birth. Deciding how much I could eat, killing my father in the mines, throwing Gale and I together from mutual need by creating the hunger of my family that drove me into the woods to hunt and fight for every scrap. Then they ripped my universe apart when they drew Prim's name in the reaping, thrusting me into the games. I hadn't felt since my father died. Peeta made me feel again. Peeta chose to love me. He didn't have to, wasn't forced to, he just did. It was true. It was real. Peeta's love was a choice, and my loving Peeta was my choice.
Into the night I whisper, "Peeta, are you still awake?"
"Yes," he says in his sleepy voice.
"I chose you."
He turns his face toward me and looks into my eyes. I could swim in his blue eyes.
"Say it again."
"I chose you," I say slowly.
Tears shimmer into his eyes and a smile spreads across his face. Then he presses his lips lovingly into mine. "I've waited so long to hear you say that," he says. Then we sleep calmly until morning.
Effie wakes us and tells us we have 10 minutes till the prep teams arrive. We request that they ready us together. We don't want to separate until we have to. Effie nods and 10 minutes later our prep teams are going to work. Fluvia starts to entwine a golden ribbon into my braid, when I get an idea.
"May I borrow your scissors Octavia?" I ask. She looks at me curiously but places them in my palm. I walk over and pull a chair in front of Peeta so we are facing each other knee to knee.
"What is it?" he asks concerned.
I simply remove the ribbon and cut a long strip from it and reach up under the nape of my neck and clip a lock of my hair. I place the soft lock on top of the ribbon, tie it in a knot and lay it in Peeta's hand.
"A token." I say. "Please be careful." I kiss him and neither of us wants to be the first to let go.
The prep teams are a mess, most of them are crying. Portia calls for Cinna. It was time.
READ ON FROM CATCHING FIRE PAGE 261:
He gives me a light kiss. "See you soon," he says.
"See you soon," I answer.
LOOK FOR PART TWO
TITLED:YOU CAME FOR ME; FLICKERS IN THE DARKNESS
IT TAKES PLACE DURING MOCKINGJAY FROM PAGE 27-28
Katniss just finds out Peeta is still alive after watching the first interview between him and Caesar broadcast from the Capitol.
"You're alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against me cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive. And a traitor. But at the moment, I don't care. Not what he says, or who he says it for, only that he is still capable of speech.
After a while, the door opens and someone slips in. Gale slides down beside me, his nose trickling blood... [After their conversation] Whatever the case I have someone to tell my secrets to again.
"Gale I have something to talk to you about," I say...
AUTHOR NOTE: AFTER REALIZATION CHAPTER.. WHEN KATNISS AND PEETA HAVE THEIR TOASTING CEREMONY, I HAVE CREATED A LOVING BUT SENSUOUS, STEAMY HONEYMOON SCENE. IT GETS AN M RATING FOR A REASON.
BUT TO KEEP THIS WHOLE ENTRY T RATED, I WROTE IT AS A ONE SHOT INSERT
TITLED: Toasting Night (rated M) (their last night before the Quell)