I said remember this moment in the back of my mind
The arenas have been completely destroyed, memorials built, there are no more Hunger Games.
The time we stood with our shaking hands. The crowds in stands went wild.
The mayor motions for me and Peeta to shake hands. His are as solid and warm as those loaves of bread. Peeta looks me right in the eye and gives my hand what I think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it's just a nervous spasm.
We turn back to face the crowd as the anthem of Panem plays.
We were the kings and the queens and they read off our names.
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."
That night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same.
The music's slow and dreamlike, so Peeta pulls me into his arms and we move in a circle with practically no steps at all.
You held your head like a hero on a history book page.
The voice of the crowd rises into one universal scream as we roll into the night, but neither one of us reacts.
It was the end of a decade but the start of an age.
It's like a game. Repetitive. Even a little tedious after more than twenty years.
Long live the walls we crashed through. How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.
Blinding lights. The deafening roar rattles the metal under my feet. Then there's Peeta just a few yards away.
I was screaming "Long live!" All the magic we made, and bring on all the pretenders. One day we will be remembered.
I hold my bow over my head and yell with all the anger I can muster, "People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"
I said remember this feeling. I passed the pictures around.
Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so that I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn't notice before, and the disk pops open. It's not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling.
Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines, wishing for right now.
Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch—this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy.
We are the kings and the queens. You traded your baseball cap for a crown.
President Snow himself takes the stage, followed by a little girl carrying a cushion that holds the crown… President Snow gives it a twist and it separates into two halves. He places the first around Peeta's brow with a smile.
Then they gave us our trophies and we held them up for our town.
The mayor steps forward and presents us each with a plaque.
And the cynics were outraged, screaming, "This is absurd!"
In the rumbling, I hear the dissent. I suppose no one doubted I would want to be the Mockingjay. So naming a price—one that spares possible enemies—angers them. I stand indifferent to the hostile looks thrown my way.
Cause for a moment, a band of thieves in ripped-up jeans got to rule the world.
Much bowing and cheering follows. My arm is about to fall off from waving.
Long live the walls we crashed through. How the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.
Just stepping onto the stage makes my breathing rapid and shallow. Although evening is falling, the City Circle is brighter than a summer's day.
I was screaming, "Long live!" All the magic we made, and bring on all the pretenders, I'm not afraid.
We victors staged our own uprising, and maybe, just maybe, the Capitol won't be able to contain this one.
Long live, all the mountains we moved. I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.
I can't shoot Cato without killing Peeta, too. He can't kill Peeta without guaranteeing an arrow in his brain.
And long live that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders. One day, we will be remembered.
But his smile is the same whether in mud or in the Capitol, and when I see it, I take about three steps and fling myself into his arms.
Hold on, just spinning around. Confetti falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall.
My face breaks into a huge smile and I start walking in Peeta's direction. Then, as if I can't stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips—he still isn't entirely in command of his artificial leg—and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that's where we have our first kiss in months. It's full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I'm not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won't expose me in front of the cameras. Won't comdemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He's still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow, the thought makes me want to cry.
So you take a moment. Promise me this. That you'll stand by me forever. But if God forbid, fate should step in, and force us into a goodbye.
I have a mission. No, it's more than a mission. It's my dying wish. Keep Peeta alive.
If you have children someday.
Peeta wanted them so badly… My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard…
When they point to the pictures…
The page begins with the person's picture. A photo, if we can find it. If not, a sketch or painting by Peeta. Then, in my most careful handwriting, come all the details it would be a crime to forget.
Please tell them my name.
The girl knows we played a role in them. The boy will know in a few years.
Tell them how the crowds went wild. Tell them how I hope they shine.
We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.
Long live the walls we crashed through. I had the time of my life with you.
He rights himself, and we just cling to each other while the audience goes insane. He's kissing me… After about ten minutes of this, Caesar Flickerman taps on his shoulder to continue the show, and Peeta just pushes him aside without even glancing at him.
Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you.
We walk across the shaded verandah until the roof runs out and we're standing at the top of a big flight of marble stairs in the glaring sun.
Long live all the magic we made, and bring on all the pretenders, I'm not afraid.
The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their way into my blood, and I can't suppress my excitement. No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.
Singing long live, all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you.
"Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, if left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem."
And long, long live that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders. One day…
Peeta gets down on one knee, pours out his heart, and begs me to marry him. I, of course, accept.
We will be remembered.