The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.
Lady, running down to the riptide
Taken away to the dark side
I wanna be your left hand man
I love you when you're singing that song and
I got a lump in my throat 'cause
You're gonna sing the words wrong…
-Vance Joy
Riptide
By JLaLa
"You will be happy," my mother assures me as she looks at my reflection in the mirror.
I don't respond to her words. Part of me is angry.
I stare at myself in the cornflower-blue dress that I'm wearing. It's strange to see myself like this—made to look feminine. The A-line of the skirt emphasizes my hips and the pulled-in waist gives me a little more curve to compensate for my lack of breasts.
"I wish I could be as pretty as you," Prim, my sister, says.
She is only ten and doesn't realize that the reason this is all happening is because we no longer have the money to keep us alive. The Capitol has cut the pension we were receiving since my father's death years ago. My mother makes a bare amount of money selling her healing tonics and salves.
As does my hunting for game in the lush forest past the fence that borders District 12.
"I wish I could be as beautiful as you," I respond before turning to give her a smile. Lowering myself to Prim's eye level, I press a kiss to her forehead. "You will come and visit me, right?" She nods and I stand up to pull her close. "Good girl."
There's a knock on the door and I smooth down my dress. My mother does one last check of my hair, which is plaited in a braid. Her hand lingers over the dark tip of it and I know that she is thinking of my father. I share my thick, inky black tendrils with the man who she once shared her life and her bed with.
Circumstances have led me to not think of marriage as affectionately as she does.
Prim goes to the door quickly, tucking her shirt tail into her skirt before she opens it.
Taking a breath, I offer up my best smile to the two people who have just entered our small home:
Mr. Mellark who owns District 12's only bakery and my soon-to-be husband, Connor Mellark.
I never knew that Connor held an interest in me.
I saw him very little whenever I made a trade at the bakery and would usually talk to Mr. Mellark or Peeta, who was in my same grade at school. So it's strange to be walking down the middle road of our town past all the Merchants, hand in hand, as we head to the Justice Building to sign our marriage license.
As Mr. Mellark tells us about the dinner that his wife is preparing, I finally meet Connor's eyes. He gives me a careful smile and I respond with a smile of my own. This can work. I can spend my life with this man with the kind smile even though he is a stranger.
A stranger who got his parents to set up our engagement.
I had just returned from hunting beyond the boundaries of District 12 when I found my Mom sitting at our kitchen table, her hands gripping her tin mug. After asking me to sit, she explained that she had been visited by Mrs. Mellark on behalf of her eldest son.
He wanted to marry me.
My family would have several benefits from our marriage. My mother and sister would be given a weekly supply of food from the Mellarks as well as stipend for what I had been contributing to our income. The Mellark brothers would assist in repairing my family home for the coming winter. Prim and my mother would be well-kept.
That is, if I was willing to accept.
How could I say no? My sister is tiny for ten and my mother is still recovering from her breakdown after my father's death.
I'm sturdy and dependable; my family needs me.
Of course I was going to say 'Yes'.
"Katniss." I jump at the soft voice and turn to see Connor holding out a pen. I look down and realize that I'm supposed to be signing our marriage license. When did we get here?
My hand trembles as I sign my name and the clerk promptly takes the license to notarize it.
I'm married.
Unpacking in our bedroom, I look at the handmade quilt that Mr. Mellark—Father, I mean—told me belonged to his own mother. Mrs. Mellark, or Mother, simply looked me over before telling Connor to show me to our room.
Rye, their middle child, helped bring my bags up to the room before giving me a quick wink. I can already tell that he likes to make people laugh for he's the one who managed to get everyone chuckling during our wedding dinner which included my mother and sister.
Prim is already reveling in being the youngest of the bunch. She left my new home after the dinner with half of the cake that Peeta made as well as what was left of our dinner.
My new family is generous but I can't help but wonder what I will bring into the household.
The fireplace glows in the plain bedroom saturating the walls with a warm orange hue. It is beautiful and comforting like the sunset that I used to bathe in whenever I hunted. I realize now that I can't do any of the things that I once did.
That includes speaking to Gale, who is my best friend or, at least he was my best friend.
We haven't spoken since my engagement was announced.
I pull the quilt back. The sheets are white and I think that by tomorrow, they will no longer be this crisp or pristine.
They will be stained with my virgin blood.
Quickly, I slip on the white nightgown that my mother made for me. It is made of silk and lined with lace from my mother's wedding dress. It's the most beautiful thing I own and I feel my throat begin to close knowing that it will be removed from my body in a matter of minutes.
Looking up, I catch an interesting sight in the corner of the room—Hyacinths.
They stand in a vase on a small round table. Something about them triggers a memory of the forest, of a gentle hand holding mine, and the soft blue of the hyacinth's petals. My fingers go to the thick petals and I feel comfort in it.
Hyacinths symbolize fertility.
I know why I am here. I was aware of it since the moment that my mother told me about the Mellarks' offer. I am strong and I've never been sick a day in my life. I can bear a child and be up the next day to open the bakery.
I'm nothing but a vessel to put a baby in.
The tears come suddenly and I wipe my eyes unaware that anyone is present until I feel a hand on my shoulder. Swiveling, I'm surprised to find Connor in the room.
"You seemed entranced by the flower," he says with a small grin.
"It just brought back a nice memory," I explain.
"Then why are you crying?" Connor asks as he approaches me. He is wearing a simple white shirt and linen pajama pants. Seeing the outline of his masculine body through the glow of the fire makes my throat constrict.
Mustering up a weak smile, I quickly wipe my eyes. "I miss my family."
Lifting my chin with his finger, Connor meets my eyes before pressing his mouth to mine.
The kiss is a…kiss. Nothing but the movement of his skin against mine.
"You'll get used to being here," Connor assures me. His hand moves the strap of my nightgown off my shoulder and he places another kiss to my bare skin. "I am your family now as our children will be when the time comes."
I nod before letting him completely remove the nightgown off my body.
The sheets are soft.
My eyes are open as the palm of my hand moves against the bedding. I look around trying to adjust to this new place. Turning, I see that Connor is still asleep and I breathe out in relief. I'm still sore from last night and I don't think I have it in me to do it again.
My husband was as gentle as he could be. My hips are wide but they aren't used to the feel of a man in-between them.
I welcomed him inside of me, anyway.
I never had expectations of love and sex. I wasn't like some of the other girls in school who talked about falling in love or getting kissed in a way that made your stomach turn. I guess I was just built different.
Sitting up, I look to the window in front of me where the sunlight trickles in. The hyacinths savor the golden warmth and they stand proudly. However as I stand and pull my nightgown back on, I feel a sharp ache in my core and breathe for a moment to relax my muscles.
There's a movement behind our door so I go to open it.
It's Peeta.
He has laid out a tray of food in front of our room for us.
Seeing me, Peeta gives me a smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Mellark." There's something in his voice that causes something in my throat to catch. "Just something for you and Connor."
I lean down to pick up the tray and meet his eyes. "You can call me Katniss. You always did."
"Okay…Katniss," he replies, happiness in his voice. "Oh, I forgot—" Peeta reaches behind him to place a fresh hyacinth on the tray. "I know how much you like them."
The memory comes back in a flash.
Behind the fence, we crept around looking for a field as blue as the evening sea. Together, hand-in-hand, we found a beautiful field of flowers. We made a promise to keep it a secret.
And, I remember that there was a time when I felt that kind of love that the girls in school spoke of. When I felt the tingle of warmth on my skin…
"Do you still know where this place is?" I ask him.
He nods once as I rise with the tray in my hands.
"Will you show me one day?"
"One day," he promises before disappearing down the hallway.
Three Months…
"Gently," Connor instructs, his arms around my waist.
I can't help but let out a chuckle. "I don't know if I can be that gentle."
Kneading is not as easy as one would think. There's a balance to it really and something makes me wonder if I'll ever be the kind of wife that the Mellarks need. The loaves I end up making are uneven and doughy which we then have to eat for dinner.
My husband presses a kiss to my neck. "You need a break. Let's go upstairs."
The smile immediately falls from my face. "I can't. Time of the month."
He nods, disappointment in his blue eyes, before disappearing to the front of the bakery when the entrance bell jingles.
Three months and no baby.
Connor is patient. However, Mother is not and I can tell that Father is just as frustrated.
There are a lot of things I've come to appreciate about being single now that I'm a Merchant wife. I miss being outdoors and hunting. Solitude is hard to find when you're sharing a bed with someone. Sure, I've gotten used to having my husband inside of me during sex but it's just a means to an end. We need to procreate.
If I don't have a child then Prim and my mother suffer.
Taking off my apron, I toss it to the opposite counter before rushing to the back door. I can't breathe in the heat of the kitchen and so I open the door to step out. Sitting on the back steps, I let out a long exhale.
"I don't belong here." I whisper the words into the quiet air.
My husband is nice enough, but he'll eventually realize that I can't have children.
I look up at a whistle and see Peeta as well as Rye heading towards me. I'm still surprised by the blatant differences of the two. Rye has strawberry-blond hair and closed-set green eyes while Peeta favors Connor's sandy hair and round blues.
"What's wrong, sis?" Rye asks with a carefree grin.
I glare at him. "What does it matter to you?"
"We're family," he says as they stop in front of me.
"Fine." I meet them square in the eyes. "Women's troubles."
"And, that's my cue to leave," Rye responds as he begins his ascent up the stairs but not before giving me a kiss on the top of my head.
Peeta sits next to me, his eyes solemn. "So, no baby."
I shake my head. "Much to everyone's disappointment."
"Some of us don't just want you here for your ability to carry children," he tells me. "My brother, for one."
"Then why does he always look so disappointed every time I menstruate?" I practically growl out the question at him.
"Maybe because he's eager to start your life together," Peeta informs me. "Connor really cares for you."
I wrap my arms around my shoulders. "I don't need someone to care for me. I can take care of myself."
"I know that. It's one of the things I admire most about you," he tells me in a quiet voice.
I was never good at reading feelings, but there's a wisp of something else in his tone. I can barely comprehend the tingle it gives me.
"Why don't you find a nice girl and have a herd of your own?" I ask curiously.
Peeta shakes his head, his eyes avoiding my gaze. "It's not in me to have children."
I want to protest his statement as I've seen firsthand that Peeta would make a good father. He is always the one that kids are excited to see at the front counter. Prim adores him and he is amazingly patient in instructing her with the basics of baking.
However, Connor appears at the doorway and gives me a strained smile. "Why don't you go rest before dinner?"
I nod before rising from my seat and heading to the kitchen but not before seeing Peeta and Connor in what appears to be an argument.
Six Months…
"You know that we love Katniss," Father tells Connor as well as my Mother, who has been invited over for Sunday dinner. "We are worried that nothing has happened."
"We've been trying," Connor says before placing his hand over mine. "Frequently."
My face is on fire knowing that my own mother as well as my in-laws are aware that my husband and I have been trying very hard to give them the grandchild that they all want. If Peeta and Rye were here, my head would probably explode.
"Katniss has a perfectly healthy reproductive system," my mother tells the Mellarks. "Her cycle has always been regular. I've examined her myself. She is a healthy, reproductive woman."
"Then why is there no child?" Mother Mellark asks, her countenance irritated.
"I don't know," my mother responds calmly. "We could send for someone from the Capitol to examine them both." She looks between the Mellarks. "What do you think?"
"I suppose," Father responds. Finally, he looks to Connor and me. "What do you think?"
I feel the thin veneer of confidence in myself breaking. Nothing is my choice anymore.
So instead I stand up and leave the room so that everyone else can make the choice for me.
Like they want.
One Week Later…
"Alright, Mrs. Mellark," Dr. Freeman, the doctor sent from Capitol, tells me. The man is older than Father with kind eyes and a gentle voice. However, the embarrassment leaves me numb. "I want you to take a deep breath as I insert the speculum."
Wordlessly, I breathe in as the cold metal slips into my insides.
Turning, I look at the hyacinth that sits next to the window.
It's fading.
Just like me.
It doesn't take very long for Dr. Freeman to get us the result. After Connor's exam, he sits both us and our parents down in the living room. Rye and Peeta are sent to work downstairs so that we can discuss the options.
I am humiliated. Every part of my health and sexual history was revealed to a stranger who then probed my insides. Connor looks just as bad as me though he pats my back consolingly after my exam, letting me rest my head upon his shoulder.
"I've examined both patients," the doctor explained. "As of present, they are healthy. Katniss' uterus and ovaries are normal-sized. The acidity in her cervix is balanced and discharge is colored normal. Connor's testes are normal-sized and there is no issue with the ejaculatory duct. He has produced a sample for me that I will send to my lab."
"Then when do we find out the results?" Mother asks anxiously.
She looks as humiliated as I feel. Connor's mother is prideful and though she is accepting of me, it would not surprise me if she thinks that I am to blame. Why wouldn't she? She dotes on her oldest son above his siblings. He will inherit the family business and be the one that takes care of her and Father when they are older.
"I was not aware that Connor was sick for a small period two years ago," Dr. Freeman says to my in-laws as he looks through the paperwork.
"He was," Father says slowly. "He had the mumps."
"Oh my goodness," my mother suddenly gasps, her eyes meeting mine. "I never realized."
Mother Mellark looks to the doctor in front of us. "What does this mean?"
"Mumps in post-puberty can cause sterility," Dr. Freeman informs us. "I'm going to send the sample to my lab, but I can deduce that his previous illness is likely the reason that Katniss and Connor have had issues conceiving."
For some reason, the news doesn't come as a relief. I look to my husband realizing that I do care for his well-being and psyche. This isn't good news to hear on his end.
Imagine if he had a wife that he was actually in love with. The news alone would kill him.
I reach to squeeze his shoulder and he places a limp hand over mine.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" I ask the doctor.
"Wait," the man responds. "There is still hope and if anything, there are other options. They can be discussed at a later date."
Later that night, I sit astride my husband with him inside of me. He apologizes over and over, his lips pressed to my neck.
"There is nothing to be sorry about," I respond as his hands move along my bare skin.
Connor meets my eyes, our movements still in sync. "There will be."
Seven Months…
There will be no children.
My mother received the report directly from Dr. Freeman. Since she works in medicine, it is a lot less inconspicuous than to have the report sent to our home. Connor's sperm count is at .005%.
Once again, my mother as well as the Mellarks sit in the living room with Connor and me.
There is a devastation in my husband's eyes while I remain somehow distant from it all.
"Now what?" Mother Mellark asks.
"I don't know," Father responds. He turns to us. "I'm sorry, kids. I know that you've wanted this since you married."
My own mother reaches to take my hand and give it a squeeze. "There must be something that can be done."
"Peeta." Mother Mellark suddenly goes to the small family photo on their mantle. "He and Connor look similar. It only has to happen during her fertile days. I'm sure that Robin can help us figure out when Katniss ovulates." She looks to my mother. "You can, right?"
"Petra," Father interrupts his wife's train of thought. "You can't be serious. You want a grandchild that badly?"
"Yes and I do want us to keep this property," my mother-in-law argues. "Your father's will is ironclad. The deed remains with the eldest son and those offspring. This is our livelihood and it cannot be given up."
"You can't do this to my daughter," my mother interrupts. "Katniss, you should come home."
Connor looks to me, defeated and on the brink of a breakdown.
"There is no need to stay, Katniss. Maybe it is my punishment for taking someone who wasn't mine to begin with…"
He doesn't finish and I don't ask.
I weigh my options. I look at the Mellarks, crushed by this news. Mother Mellark's solution wasn't the best idea to express at this point but I can see she worries for our family as does Father.
This is the first time that I've thought of them as family.
I look to my own mother. She is the healthiest I've ever seen her and has never been so affectionate with me. It gives her comfort to see me married to a good man.
Then, there is Connor. While I'm not in love him, I do care for his well-being.
"Tell me," I finally say. "What does Peeta have to do with this?"
"This is a joke," Peeta says to his parents after they've explained the situation, later that evening. "You can't really think that Katniss and I should…" He meets my eyes, his cheeks burning at the thought. "…just for a child."
"If you really care about this family, you'll think about it," his mother intones. "I know that you care for the bakery as much as we do. You also care for your brother and Katniss. They've been trying, but it just wasn't their fate to bring a child of their own into the world."
Peeta turns to Connor and me. "What do you think?"
Connor shakes his head. "Maybe it was what's meant to happen." My husband takes my hand. "I think that you would be a good mother and it would make me happy to raise the child with you."
I know I made this decision but it just seems more farfetched the more I think about it. I don't know if I ever really thought about children in my life. A huge part of me thinks that Connor and I could be somewhat content with just us two.
However, the bakery would suffer. We need this place to live.
"I care about what happens to our family," I simply reply.
Peeta stares at me for a long moment. His gaze is penetrating, pulling out strange yearnings from somewhere deep inside of me. Somehow I know that he can tell what I'm thinking at this very moment. He knows this idea is insane but there is something else that I know about him.
He is curious.
"Alright," Peeta says after a moment. "I do have some stipulations."
"Like what?" his father counters.
"I want a quarter of what I'm going to inherit—in cash," he states. "Also, we can't do that here."
"Are you just going to take my wife to some slag heap, Peeta?" Connor says incredulously.
"No, but I don't think I could do anything on your bed," Peeta responds evenly. "I'll find a place."
After a moment, my husband agrees.
"Anything else?" Mother Mellark inquires. I almost think I see a bit of admiration for Peeta. He's obviously a natural negotiator.
Peeta turns to me. "Katniss decides the schedule and she decides when she is done playing this ridiculous game."
"Alright, Katniss," my mother writes out my schedule, based on last month's cycle before handing the piece of paper to me. "You have a normal 28-day cycle. From what I'm calculating, it looks like you're on Day 12."
"Then when does this happen?" I ask her as I fold the schedule into my back pocket.
It's good to be home. The scent of my father is still in the air. My mom kept a lot of his old clothes which includes the old hunting jacket that I wear now. Something inside of me jumped when I opened our old wardrobe and found it.
Prim is doing her schoolwork, humming to herself as she writes on her worksheet. Her cheeks are much fuller because of the extra portions and she gives me a smile before going back to her work.
"Between the next 2-3 days," my mother responds. She places her pencil on the table before looking to me, her mouth tight. "This isn't what I wanted for you."
I place a hand over hers. "I know."
"I have a friend in District 4 and you can stay with her—"
My gaze goes to Prim, who sits on her bed still scribbling away.
"She looks happy. With the Mellarks, I can give you and Prim everything that you'll ever need. They're not bad to me."
"Katniss, you are being used to carry someone else's baby," my mother states and I realize that my stony stare is inherited from her. "Someone who is not your husband."
I can't respond because there's a sudden knock on the door and Prim jumps from her spot to open it.
"Peeta!" My sister lights up and throws her arms around her brother-in-law.
Peeta presses a kiss to the top of Prim's head before going to my mother who gives him a hug.
"Connor is busy at the bakery," Peeta tells me. "So, he sent me. Also, he wanted us to make…arrangements."
"What does that mean?" Prim asks innocently.
"Nothing, Little Duck." I kiss the top of her head. "Why don't you finish up your work?"
"I had something to talk to both of you about anyway," Peeta informs me and my mother.
We all sit back at the table where Peeta pulls an envelope from his pocket and slides it along the wood surface to my mother.
Taking it, she looks inside before giving the envelope back to Peeta. "I can't accept this."
"Katniss is worried that if this whole thing doesn't work that you and Prim will suffer," he responds simply. "This is so you don't ever have to worry either."
"What is it?" I ask him.
"The amount I requested from my inheritance," Peeta tells me. "Katniss, this isn't right. My family can be great and Connor cares about you but this whole 'for the family' and the 'greater good' bullsh—" He stops remembering that Prim is in the room. "I've known you since we were kids and the only reason that you would even think about doing this is for Prim and your mother. Because you're afraid of the repercussions."
"What do you want?" I ask him. "You're not just giving me this money for nothing."
Peeta is frustrated at my suspicion. "Damnit, Katniss! How about the basic fact that people shouldn't be used for their bodies? Is that a good enough reason for you?"
Standing up, he gives my mother a kiss on the cheek and says goodbye to Prim before leaving quickly.
I am a world class jerk.
Without even realizing it, I rush out the door to catch up to his lone figure walking down our road.
"Peeta, wait!" He turns around and I can see the pain in his eyes. The fact that I have hurt him bothers me beyond anything else. "I'm not used to someone caring for me. I've spent a lot of time caring of others."
"Oh, Katniss." His blue eyes gaze at me in solemn tenderness. "Don't you know that I've cared longer than I've wanted to admit?"
I can't speak, his words causing something inside of me to leap.
"My mother said that the next two or three days are good," I find myself saying.
Peeta nods. "I'll tell my brother."
"Will you be alright?" I ask Connor. I'm supposed to leave for wherever Peeta chose to take me in a few minutes.
My husband sits on our bed, his back hunched as he sits.
"I brought this on myself," he says quietly.
I sit next to him and take his hand. "No one brings this sort of thing on themselves." Not knowing what to do, I press a kiss to his lips. "Just think of it as if I'm going to stay over at my mother's. I'll be home in a few days."
Everyone thought it would be best that we take advantage of the days that I'm likely to be most fertile by giving us the time to…procreate.
There's a knock on our door. Peeta.
"You better go," Connor tells me in a tight voice.
After one last kiss, I slip out the door. Peeta is waiting outside and takes the overnight bag that I'm holding from me. He is expressionless and I don't say a word as we leave out the back of the bakery.
It's already dark and we take advantage of the fact that no one in town is out at this hour. The Mellarks explain my absence by saying that I'm taking care of my mother who has come down with a cold and that Peeta has gone to visit a friend in District 11. No one in town will think anything of it.
The Seam folks know better. They probably think we're having an affair.
Pretty much.
After we are a good distance away, he takes my hand and leads me further away from the main part of District 12 towards the fence that blocks us from the forest.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"You said you wanted to know where the hyacinths were," Peeta replies before bringing me to a break in the fence. "We're a lot bigger than we were as kids but I manage to still get through."
"I can barely remember that time," I say as I crawl under the opening that he holds up for me. "I know that I was practically on the brink of dying—and you saved me."
Prim was only a baby and my Dad had just died. Mom was pretty much a basket case. There was no food, no water, and my mom couldn't even breastfeed Prim. I remember finding my way to the back of the bakery and when it began to rain, I just laid down and waited to die under the tree of the Mellark's backyard.
Except then, Peeta had come out of his home and offered two burnt loaves for me to take. That burnt bread helped my mother to feed once more. The next day, I went back to say thank you and he brought me to the place behind the fence.
Where the hyacinths grew.
The place where we're standing now.
In the moonlight, the hyacinths glow deep blue and purple as fireflies dance around the ethereal meadow. I kneel down to touch a single bloom, letting out a choked gasp.
So, it wasn't a dream.
"Listen, Katniss." Peeta sits next to me among the flowers. "We're not going to do anything."
"But, what happens if I don't get pregnant?" I ask him quietly.
"You and Connor move on with your lives," he tells me. "You figure it out. My parents move on."
"They won't though," I state.
"They'll have to," Peeta responds firmly. Standing up, he holds out his hand to me and I take it to get onto my feet. "Come on, I'll show you where we're staying."
We head north when we reach an old shack. Something about it bites at my memory.
"We've seen this before," I say. Going up to the door, I look at the old knob before giving it a twist and shoving it open with my shoulder. "What did we think this place was?"
"I think it must have been someone's home from District 13—" Peeta says. "—when it still existed."
Inside, it is a simple square floorplan with the far corner holding a bathroom. There is a fireplace next to the door and a table on the opposite end. The rest of it is empty with the exception of the small bundles in the middle.
"This will be our hideout for the next three days," he continues to explain. "Rye thinks that I paid one of my friends to borrow one of their rooms so that's what he told our families. I brought sleeping bags and enough food to last us. Also—" Peeta reaches into a bag amongst the bundles and pulls out my bow and a set of arrows. "—I thought you'd like to hunt."
My hand trembles as I kneel down to touch and take hold of the bow. It still feels familiar, almost like an extension of me. "How did you get this?"
Peeta meets my eyes in the darkness. "Your mother."
Reaching over, I place a hand on his shoulder just grazing his chin as I make the motion. He reacts immediately, a small moan escaping his lips as his eyes close.
"Why are you so nice to me?"
He opens his eyes, the heat in his stare causing my heart to jump from my breast.
"I thought that answer was obvious, Katniss."
That night in front of the fire that Peeta has built, he falls asleep quickly in his own sleeping bag.
However, I remain awake still thinking about the look in his eyes.
In the morning light, it's obvious how delicate the petals are. They are paper-thin and silky highlighting every thin line within the flower.
I'm careful as I walk through the rows in the nightgown I wear. The day started out warm and it seems that it will continue on this way. The good thing is the trees are high enough and cover our small haven. We will be fairly cool.
Gently, I gather a bushel of blue blossoms that resemble Peeta's eyes. I don't know if it is the meadow or the warm embrace of the sun but every bit of me feels free from the burden of being a Merchant wife.
"Be careful. Sometimes your skin can get irritated by some of the flowers."
I turn to find Peeta wandering over to me, still in his sleeping clothes as well.
"Oh." My cheeks burn watching him walk, his shirt translucent in the light of the sun. "I wanted to bring you some—these ones match your eyes."
Standing before me, I notice that bit of growth along his chin and upper lip and something about it leaves my body thrumming with sudden longing.
"Thank you."
His hand goes to take the stems of the hyacinths before he leans down and goes to kiss my cheek.
However, I turn without thinking and our mouths suddenly collide against one another.
I'm barely aware of how the kiss started because by the middle of it, I was already knee-deep in the sensation. The taste of the inside of his mouth is like cream and strawberries interlaced with that bit of saliva in a truly involved kiss.
When we pull apart, my body is flush against his and my arms encircle his neck.
"Tell me to stop," Peeta whispers against my lips, his eyes closed and his forehead pressed to mine; the heat of the kiss between us.
When his eyes open, I respond, "No."
His hands move to unbutton the front of my gown as he kneels before me, exposing my breasts to the balminess of the air and the heat of his tongue.
Did I tell him to stop?
No.
Instead, I let him peel off my nightgown so that he can lay me down in the middle of the meadow.
"Peeta?" We lay in front of the fireplace, the glow of the light reflecting off our skin. "Connor said something to me a few days ago…something about taking someone who wasn't his?" I meet his eyes. "Do you know what he was talking about?"
Peeta shakes his head, letting out a gruff snort. He meets my eyes, reaching for my hand.
"Do you really want to know?" he asks and I nod vehemently. "Connor didn't ask for you." His eyes meet the floor. "I did."
"Let me guess," I respond evenly. "Your parents didn't think it was right for the youngest to be married before the oldest." I let out a bitter laugh. "Your parents are something else."
"They said that I had a lot of time to find someone else," Peeta explains before meeting my eyes. "Since we were kids, I knew that I wanted you for my own. Nothing was going to change that."
I roll to my side, my hand reaching to push back his hair. "You could've just told me."
"You might've shot me with one of your arrows," he jokes as I rest my head to his bare chest. I feel the rumble of his chuckle against me. "Or, you might've hit me."
"Highly likely," I tell him before looking to the hearth. "But, I liked talking to you during trades."
"Would you have considered me?" he asks quietly. "Even if my parents kicked me out of the house?"
"Likely." I push myself up, resting my weight on my elbow. "I think we would have had something good. We would have made it real."
Leaning down, I press my lips to his to taste him once more. Peeta brings out a hunger—a ferocity in me that I never knew I had. My body calls for him and without thinking, I straddle his waist to bring him inside me, savoring every inch of his length as we move.
Peeta takes his time, his hands moving along my body and resting only to cup my breasts so the pad of his thumbs can move along my rigid nipples. The feeling causes the beginning of my climax and I resist the urge to wail in pleasure.
They say when you're caught in a riptide, you have to stop fighting to find your way back.
So I stop.
Because Peeta is the riptide.
I bring my mouth down to kiss him, crying out into his as I drown in our joining.
"What happens now?" The morning comes quickly and harshly. We lay together in front of the fading hearth. "If I'm pregnant, do you go on pretending that our child isn't yours?"
"I don't care. I just want to be near you, Katniss," Peeta tells me, his head propped in his hand as he gazes into my eyes. "If I get to see you every day then I will be alright."
"You'll change your mind," I counter.
"Or, maybe you have." As I sit up, the blanket over my chest slides off and leaves me bare before him. Instead of looking down, he lifts my chin to look into my eyes. "Katniss, you love me. Real or not real?"
I couldn't hide from him even if I wanted to.
For all the lies I've learned to tell, I can only speak the truth to Peeta.
"Real," I finally say, my throat thick. "And, maybe I have changed my mind." I look around our cabin. "We don't have to go back."
"They would find us," Peeta responds though I see that glint of hope in his blue eyes.
How could someone find their way into my heart in just so little time?
Then, I realized that maybe Peeta has been there all along.
Since we were children and I volunteered to sing the Valley Song because I wanted him to hear me. Even then, I knew that he was going to somehow be interwoven into my life.
Fate and reality are cruel because it brought us here.
"We could survive," I say. "Me…you…and it." I look down at my still-flat stomach. Despite the situation, the thought that some part of me and Peeta might be in there brings me an unthinkable amount of joy.
He smiles at me. "You give me an unbelievable sense of hope, Katniss."
"Funny." I grin, tears spilling onto my cheeks. "I was about to say the same."
We both lay back, my head to his chest as Peeta embraces me.
"Where would we go?" he suddenly asks.
"To the sea?" The image of a dark-haired child dancing among the waves wanders into my head. I close my eyes, the motion of Peeta's chest rising and falling, lulling me into the beginning of a wonderful dream. "My father used to tell me stories about the ocean, of walking along white sand and even on cloudy days, how it would still be beautiful."
His hand weaves through my hair gently. "I love you, Katniss."
"Stay with me," I ask him.
I imagine our life from here on out will be difficult.
Because something tells me that there is a baby in there. A baby that will grow up not knowing that Peeta is his or her biological father. A baby that will refer to Connor as 'Father' and not realize that their mother is in love with someone else—someone who is just down the hallway.
Can we live this way?
If it means that Peeta and I are together, then yes.
I think that he can read me better than I realize because as I fall back to sleep, I hear him whisper into the silent room.
"Always."
Mother and Father greet us at the back door later that night. Peeta retreats to his room, glancing over and giving me a final smile before going upstairs. My in-laws sit me at the counter of the kitchen and offer me a small dinner. I eat heartily, exhausted and emotional from the past three days.
"Where is Connor?" I ask Mother and Father.
They look at one another, tension in their eyes before Mother finally replies, "He's out getting some air."
I nod before going back to eating the stew placed in front of me.
"Do you think that it worked?" Father asks quietly though I can hear the eagerness in his voice.
I place the spoon in the bowl, my appetite suddenly gone.
"I don't want to talk about it," I respond stonily. "I'm going to bed to wait for Connor."
Standing up, I walk to the stairs leading up to the family unit and towards the hallway where all the rooms are. Peeta's door is already closed as is Rye's. I'm in no mood to talk, anyhow.
When I walk into the room, it is as I left it except that my husband is missing.
In the corner table where the vase stands is a new bloom, a hyacinth from the bouquet that I presented to Peeta before we first kissed.
Quickly, I change to my sleeping clothes and get into bed, turning onto my side to stare at the blueness of the bushel and remembering a similar shade of blue staring down at me in a meadow resembling the sea.
My hand goes to my stomach.
I hope the baby has Peeta's eyes.
I wake up at the shift in the bed. Connor has returned and I can tell from his clumsy steps that he's been drinking. He's not gentle in his motions, his shoes dropping to the ground in resounding thuds. Connor mumbles to himself as he undresses and I curl into myself when he joins me in our bed.
Turning, I can see even in the darkness, that there is a shining drunkenness in his eyes.
"I suppose that you enjoyed yourself," he states, bitterness in his voice.
"I thought you wanted this," I respond plainly.
"Look at you," Connor spats, his usually sweet eyes filled with resentment. "Even now, I can smell my own brother on you."
Three days of ruminating over what I've done has made my husband bitter. In only a span of three days, Connor has become everything that I feared he would be after the fact: insecure, jealous, and angry.
"It is what it is, Connor." My hand reaches to him but he retreats. I feel my spine stiffen at his actions. "You could've spoke up. I will allow you to act this way towards me, but you will never act this way towards our child."
My husband doesn't respond and so I turn to look back at the hyacinth, tall and strong in the glass vase.
I wait and after a moment, I know that Connor has fallen asleep.
I close my eyes to dream in purples and blues.
Four Weeks Later…
I am pregnant.
Everyone is thrilled.
My mother shares the news with my anxious in-laws and it is the first time that Mother Mellark actually shows true affection towards me, hugging me—though not too tightly so she doesn't hurt her grandchild.
Connor meets my eyes happily and I am relieved that he hasn't frozen me out for this news. He gives me a hasty kiss before Rye lifts me up to swing me around, excited to become an Uncle. His mother rushes over and scolds him about being careful especially with me in such a delicate condition.
These last four weeks have been awkward for me. Even if there were no signs, I already knew that I was pregnant. Something instinctual takes over when you're pregnant, you feel the need to be more protective because you know that you are holding something dear inside of you.
My hormones have also taken over. I feel torn between happiness, brokenness, and delirium. I dream constantly of warm kisses in meadows and making love in front of a fire to a man who isn't my husband.
A man who lets everyone else give me a hug before gently giving me one himself.
"Congratulations, Katniss," Peeta whispers in my ear. "You will be a beautiful mother."
His hand lingers on my back just long enough for it to go unnoticed but enough to have my body aching with want.
"I miss you," I can't help but tell him.
Peeta chews on his lower lip in thought. "Give me a day to figure it out."
"We'll have a celebratory dinner in a few days," Father says with a smile. "Tonight, we're having company."
Prim is talking to my stomach and I look up at his words. "Who is coming over?"
"The Cartwrights," Mother Mellark tells me and her eyes go to Peeta.
Suddenly, I feel nauseous.
Peeta and I went to school with Delly Cartwright. I remember her being sweet though a little awkward. The girl that is sitting across from me and next to Peeta, however, is completely different. Delly has grown into her looks, filling out nicely in all the right places. She is confident and proper—a perfect Merchant wife.
She is also completely oblivious that I want to rip her apart.
My in-laws crow proudly at my impending motherhood to the Cartwrights. Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, both sallow-complexioned and plain-looking, give me an acknowledging smile. Delly, however, practically squeals in delight.
"You must be so excited," she says to me. "I can't wait until I'm a mother." Her eyes go to Peeta longingly.
"Yes—" I place my hand over Connor's and he gives me a pleased grin. "—we're looking forward to being parents."
"How about you, Peeta?" Delly asks. Since Rye is having dinner with one of his many paramours, Peeta is left to entertain though I'm sure that my in-laws have something to do with this.
Now that his job is done, they don't want him around because he is a distraction.
"I don't want children," Peeta responds squarely.
Delly smacks his arm playfully. "Of course, you do!"
Peeta resolutely shakes his head as he picks at his food. "Kids…nope." Standing up, he grabs the basket where the bread rolls are. "Needs a refill."
Quickly, Peeta disappears down the stairs towards the kitchen.
Delly looks crestfallen and I give her a smile. "He's still young and it's never crossed his mind, is all."
She stares at me and Connor for a moment. "It's strange, you know. I always thought that it would be you and Peeta. I mean, he used to just stare at you…"
"We were children then," I respond. "Things change."
And yet, they somehow stay the same.
"I'll go help Peeta out," Connor tells me and gives Delly a smile. "Excuse me."
"What a gentleman," Delly gushes. "You're a lucky woman, Katniss."
I feel the smile on my lips fade. "Yeah…lucky."
"What are you doing?" I ask Peeta as I sit down next to him on the back porch where he's retreated to hide from the Cartwrights. "Your mother and father aren't happy."
"Well, when did they ever give a crap about what made me happy?" Peeta mutters as he looks out. "They gave the one girl I've loved since we were children to my older brother."
"It wasn't all him." I put a hand to his shoulder. "I agreed."
"Katniss, what choice did you have?" Peeta turns to me. "I know that you would do anything for your family. That includes marrying someone that you never even gave a second glance at."
His words sting. Truth tends to do that.
I want to stomp my foot in frustration. Between Peeta and Connor, I feel defenseless. Both are headstrong and both are prone to saying things without really thinking about the consequences. However, the difference is that I want to comfort Peeta and tell him that it will work out—even if I'm not sure of what the outcome is.
Standing up, I hold my hand out to him. "Come on."
Peeta doesn't hesitate and together we walk out of the yard. We take the hidden pathways around District 12 until we find ourselves back at the fence. It's late into the evening and no one really goes this route so we know that we are safe from any prying eyes.
At this point, neither of us care.
"You're not going to squish…?" He looks at my abdomen worriedly as he holds up the broken part of the fence.
"Our baby will be fine," I assure him before crouching under the wiring.
He follows me quickly and together we walk the familiar path. The light of the moon guides us to the meadow and Peeta helps me sit down on the grass along the flowers where our child was conceived.
After a long quiet moment, Peeta looks to me and his hand goes tentatively over my stomach.
"You can touch it," I tell him and lay back. Taking his hand, I place it on my abdomen. "It's not much right now, but I think I already knew the baby inside me from the moment of conception."
"What's the weirdest part?" Peeta asks curiously.
"My mood goes from one thing to another." My eyes go to his glowing blue ones as I muse over the oddities of pregnancy. "I can catch certain smells. Then, there's that sense of being part of something really special."
He moves over me slightly and his hand cradles the nape of my neck. "I was lying."
My hand reaches to push back his hair. "About what?"
"I do want children," he responds. Peeta swallows slowly before continuing. "I just want all of them to be ours. There's some sick part of me that hopes that Connor wants a big family. Because he'll always have to keep me around."
"You'll get married," I tell him and there's a bitterness in my voice. "You and Delly will be happy with your bunch of golden-haired children. Children that you can acknowledge as yours."
I turn away. I don't want him to see me cry.
"Do you love me?" Peeta asks suddenly.
I reach over to take his face in my hands before kissing him. "Yes."
"Then let's start again," he replies. "Let's go."
I go silent for a moment.
Peeta has asked me this over and over. I've done the same. We've known that there are consequences especially for my mother and Prim. However, the money that Peeta gave my mother will keep her and Prim afloat. Peeta and I could find a place to stay in another district. We're both strong. I can hunt and he can bake. We'll keep our family fed and I can continue to send money to my mother.
We can be together. We can be a family.
There in the moonlight and in our hyacinth meadow, the answer is stunningly clear. "Okay."
Something inside answers for me. I think it is our child.
Peeta beams at me, pressing thorough kisses to my lips until I pull him closer, desperate to feel more of that bit of happiness we have. I taste laughter and tears against our mouths, promises of a better future, and hope for our child to be raised with love.
Together, Peeta and I make our way towards the fence in determination. We know that we are going to pay, but it won't matter if there is a chance for us to be together.
I'm so excited at the thought that as I go under the fence to leave, I don't see the dip in the ground.
"Katniss!"
I don't even remember falling.
"Wake up, please."
The soft plea belongs to my sister and I open my eyes to alleviate the worry in her voice. "Prim…"
My sister turns, her two braids flying with her movements. "Mama!"
There's a rush of footsteps and I see my mother hovering over me. I realize that I'm lying in Prim's bed as my mother's warm hand goes to my forehead.
"Katniss, how are you feeling?"
"My head hurts," I respond, vaguely noticing the slight throbbing of my head. "Mama, is the baby alright?"
I watch the expression on my mother's face and I recognize it as the one that she often used for when she had bad news to tell.
"I need to ask you," she says in a tight whisper. "Do you want to go back to the Mellarks?"
"What happened to the baby?" I search her eyes for answers but see none. I look at my stomach—it looks the same as it was. "Tell me!"
"Answer the question. Yes or no?" My mother demands.
I think of sleeping next to a man that I'm not in love with, pretending that my children are his. I think of the Mellarks, demanding and needing their grandchild. How long will they wait before demanding that we try again for their long-awaited heir?
Worst of all, they took me away from Peeta. I could have been his.
That thought alone overwhelms the anger that I feel for the elder Mellarks.
"No." My breath hitches as I meet her eyes. "I can't go back."
My mother nods before rising to go to the door and disappearing behind it.
"Prim." My sister goes to me. "Help me up."
Prim doesn't question. Instead, she goes to where I have uncovered myself so I can put my arm around her shoulders. Together, we go to the door where I hear my mother talking to the Mellarks.
"It's common," my mother informs them. "She was only a month along."
"What were you doing with my wife, Peeta?" Connor is livid. I press my ear to the door, longing to hear Peeta. However, there is no response from him. "I hold you completely responsible."
"If it weren't for Peeta, your wife would have been dead." My mom's voice has gone cold. "You should be thanking him for bringing Katniss to me as quickly as he did, not berating him."
"When can we bring Katniss home?" Mother Mellark asks.
"She's heartbroken," my own mother says. "I just told her that her baby is gone."
I press my hand to my mouth covering the sob that threatens to fall from my mouth as Prim puts an arm around me.
"It's okay, Katniss," Prim whispers sadly, her big blue eyes lush with tears. "One day, it will happen again."
"She is not going back, Petra," my mother states as I catch the harsh tone in her voice. "In fact, I'm sending her away. Katniss is in a bad way and she is no good as a wife or a mother."
"We never meant to hurt her," Father says. "We just wanted to make the family complete."
"You were selfish." My mother's words cut and I can almost feel the Mellarks retreat at her anger. "You've destroyed my daughter in the process. I expect the divorce papers drawn up before I send her away."
"Mrs. Everdeen." His broken voice wraps around my heart. "Can I just see her?"
"No, Peeta." There's a gentler tone in her voice as she addresses him. "She doesn't want to see anyone."
"Katniss." Prim hugs me as I crumble listening to Peeta's plea. "I'm sorry. You would have been a good mother."
"I don't know about that," I say through my sobs. "But, I would've tried."
District 4
Two Months Later…
The waves touch gently at my feet, teasing the tips of my toes.
I took the train, crying the whole way, to live by the beautiful seaside of District 4. Mags, who knows my mother, is a mute woman with a gentle smile and sparkling eyes. Her home is right along the shore and every day I find myself walking along the water to quiet my aching insides.
I've lost the baby. I've lost the man I love. I miss them both like crazy.
It's easy to cry along the crashing waves—no one can hear you.
Not even God, if there is such a person.
Turning, I look to the house and find Mags gesturing me back for supper. I wave back to let her know that I'll be up soon.
Wrapping my shawl around myself, I begin my way back. However, there is a slight ache inside me and my hand reaches instinctively for my stomach. Since arriving in District 4, I could barely look at my own body, much less touch it.
However, I place my hand to my stomach at the sensation and my heart jumps at the feeling of the hard swell underneath my palm.
The realization comes quickly.
My mother lied.
Our baby lives.
Mags sees my face as I head up to the porch and her hand reaches into her pocket to hold out a letter.
"My mother wrote to me?" Mags shakes her head. "She had you keep this?" The woman in front of me nods as I frantically open the letter.
The message is simple:
'When you become a mother, you will understand.'
Six Months Later…
"You did very well," Annie, Mags' niece, says to me as she holds my daughter.
I give her a tired smile as Mags helps me clean up. It was a near two-day birth that the two women helped me through. Mags was a former midwife and Annie is in training. Finnick, Annie's husband, is a local fisherman and was nice enough to bring supplies over as well as take care of Hudson, Annie and his son.
After the shock had worn off that my mother had lied to me, I wrote back asking for an explanation and received a response that said it was for the best. She also admitted to lying about how I miscarried to my sister, the Mellarks, and the entirety of District 12. I was livid. I wanted to find a way to get back to District 12 and throttle her.
However, she only provided enough money for the one-way ticket that brought me here.
I make money by weaving fishnets for all the locals. It is a good living as the men lose them during long fishing trips.
Mags presses a proud kiss to my sweaty forehead. The woman has been like a surrogate mother and though I miss my mom, I'm glad that I had Mags with me.
The baby stirs and Annie brings her immediately to me. I look down at my daughter, gazing at my thick, dark hair and the roundness of Peeta's eyes.
She is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.
Wrapped in a yellow blanket, my daughter holds all my hopes and dreams for something better. She holds that secret part of me that longs for Peeta. I've never mentioned him to Annie, Finnick, or Mags though I often dream about him.
I see him in the surf and the riptides that I spot.
During my solitary walks while the baby was inside me, I learned to love District 4 and to understand the nuances of the sea. Over time, my anger was washed away to the furthest depths of the ocean.
"Hello, my love," I whisper. There is a wisp of her father's bright smile.
I suddenly understand my mother's words. There is nothing I wouldn't do to protect this little girl.
"What's her name?" Annie asks as she helps her Aunt clean up.
My daughter awakens, her bluebell eyes staring straight at me.
It comes to me immediately.
"Jacinda." My gaze goes to the swaddled child that I hold. "Her name is Jacinda."
Five Years Later…
District 12 is a memory away.
Do I think about going back? Sometimes.
I miss my mother and my sister. We write often but they don't have the means to visit. My sister is training in medicine so that she can assist my mother. At sixteen, Prim is smarter than I ever was and I have faith that she will be an amazing counterpart to my mother.
I send them photos of Jacinda and tell them all about her precocious nature. She questions everything.
Why is the sky blue? What makes the surf strong? How many kinds of trees are there?
I try my best to answer, reading as much as I can to keep my mind as alive as hers.
Then, there is the most painful question: Where is her daddy?
Jacinda longs to know where she got some of her key features. I watch her look between Annie and Finnick then at her playmate, Hudson, to see what parts came from whom.
She knows that she has my hair and skin tone, but the other things—the upturn of her smile, the prominent chin dimple, and the slight freckles on her cheeks—are what make her curious.
I'll admit that I often look out our front porch waiting to see him walking along the sand.
Then I realize that he is likely married to Delly now and busy with his real family. It hurts to think that Jacinda will never know her father.
"Mommy!"
My thoughts are interrupted by the subject of my thoughts rushing into the living room excitedly in her bright, blue dress.
I grin at her. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I met a new friend. He's on the front porch. May I invite him to my birthday party?"
I grin to myself. Jacinda is a great lover of all things human and non-human. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a rabbit or possibly a raccoon on my front porch.
I follow her, her two dark braids flowing behind her tiny frame. I contemplate taking my broom just in case I have to chase her new "friend" off the porch.
However as I step out onto the front porch, I almost faint seeing my daughter's friend.
Peeta.
"I found him on the beach, talking to Uncle Finnick," Jacinda tells me. "He says that he's from the same place as Grandma and Aunt Prim."
"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," Peeta says breathlessly, his eyes never leaving mine. He appears just as I remember, with a few more lines around his bright, beckoning eyes. "I've been on this long journey to find someone."
I fight back my tears. "You must be tired."
He grins. "I suddenly feel myself coming back to life."
Jacinda looks between us and clearly she knows that something is going on for she takes my hand to lead me to closer to Peeta.
"This is my Mommy." My daughter presents me proudly to her new friend. "My name is Jacinda. It means—"
He kneels in front of her and reaches into his lone satchel before holding out a bright, blue flower that matches the color of their eyes.
"Hyacinth." His hand reaches to cup her cheek. "It means hyacinth."
FIN.