Blood and Roses
Even now, Katniss could still smell blood and roses. Confined to the brutal realms of slumber, Katniss' body twitched, the sweat-soaked sheets holding her flailing limbs captive. Katniss fought against invisible assailants, her silent screams of torture, betrayal and longing echoing throughout her nightmare. Her sleep was heavy with the promise of bloodshed, heartache and death.
Blood and roses. The potent smell overpowered her senses, her sleeping mind shrieking and demanding retribution for the man whose cold, stoic empire and ruined not only her hopes and dreams but also the lives of thousands of others. Others, whose tormented cried out to Katniss to deliver vengeance. Although dead, President Snow continued his legacy in the confines of Kaniss' darkest dreams, his hands awash with the blood of thousands of innocent victims. The Hunger Games continued. The horror, the brutality, the never-ending circle of violence and despair. But no… Snow was dead. So why were the ghosts still tormenting her?
Katniss awoke with a start, breathing heavily and panting as if she had narrowly escaped the maws of the Muttations who had torn Cato apart relentlessly. Katniss shook her head, trying to rid herself of the agonising memories that haunted her sleeping and waking hours. She knew that she would never escape the brutality of the Hunger Games. Untangling her limbs from the coverlets that adorned her bed, Katniss swept a trembling hand through the waterfall of brown locks that cascaded down her back in streaming rivulets. Deciding that sleep had evaded her, Katniss undressed and stepped into the scalding embrace of the shower. She sighed quietly as he water poured over her frame, knowing that the unrelenting heat could never cleanse the darkness of the past that tainted her very soul.
Dressing in a fresh shirt and loose sleeping trousers, Katniss padded softly across the thick, luscious carpet that swept through the house, opening the door silently and tiptoeing along the corridor. Raising a hand to knock, Katniss suddenly stopped herself. After playing a major role in the downfall of Capitol and its barbaric government, Katniss and Peeta had returned to the devastated land of District 12. Although no longer believing her to be a Muttation, Peeta still suffered greatly from the effects of Trackerjacker venom that he had been exposed to. Dark, twisted visions of cruelty, malice haunted his consciousness to this day with their overwhelming presence, reminding him of the torture and lies fed to him by the Capitol.
But… He was no longer a threat. After many months of gruelling treatment and excruciating self-discipline, Peeta finally accepted that Katniss was no foe. Moving back to District 12 brought solitude, despair and misery. For many months, Peeta had become a recluse, fighting against his own mind, body and soul to rid himself of the remnants of his tortured existence brought on by the Capitol. Slowly, fighting with a will of unrelenting steel, Peeta slowly regained control of his body and mind with the help of the doctors from District 13. Like Katniss, Peeta still dreamt of the past. The haunting realms of torture, defiance and helplessness remained a permanent fixture in their nightmares. But, after many more months of barbaric nightmares which left a deep wound in their very souls, Katniss and Peeta opted to share the same house. While their relationship remained tentative at best, their shared past formed understanding and trust between the former tributes. And while their nightmares would never fully vanish, each found their heavy burden lightened by the other's presence.
Deciding not to knock, Katniss opened the door to Peeta's room, her years of hunting ensuring that her eyes quickly grew accustomed to the stifling darkness. Peeta's sleeping form was peaceful, his sleep deep and dreamless. However, Katniss knew of the many nights Peeta had screamed for mercy, begging his captors for release from his torture. Although, eradicated, the Hunger Games remained with them. Closing the door soundlessly behind her, Katniss walked across the room towards Peeta, feeling him stir as his heightened senses, even in sleep, picked up the presence of another being in the room. He awoke with a start, relaxing as he heard the familiar four whistled notes of their Mockingjay song, a safeguard to ensure no accidental harm would come to either of them. The same four whistled notes that the Mockingjays had sung following Rue's death in the arena.
His arm went out, automatically cradling Katniss' slender body as she slipped into bed beside him. Katniss let go of a breath she had not realised that she had been holding. The familiar cradle of Peeta's embrace soothed her and murmuring soft words of comfort in Katniss' ear. Peeta coaxed her to sink into the warmth of his bed, securing the quilt around her still shivering frame. Peeta did not mind when the horrors of Katniss' nightmares brought her to his room. In fact, he almost looked forward to her nights of suffering when he could hold the girl that he loves in his arms.
He sighed quietly, tightening his grip on Katniss' unresisting body and burying his face into the sweet-smelling tresses of untamed hair that reminded him of the woods that Katniss frequently haunted. Katniss shifted into Peeta's embrace willingly, her slim body moulding perfectly around Peeta's slight muscular frame. He heard her quiet sigh of contentment and knew that she felt safe with him. Him, the monster whose mind had been tainted with the Trackerjacker venom which had left him unable to distinguish between friend and foe. It was hard to accept that a creature as innocent and beautiful as Katniss could possibly find comfort in the arms of a monster.
Katniss turned in her sleep, her face burrowing into her favourite spot between Peeta's shoulder and neck. He placed a soft, lingering kiss against the smooth, flawless skin of Katniss' cheek, relishing in her closeness. Even though their relationship was decidedly one-sided and Peeta k new that his love was unrequited, he knew that holding the girl that he loved to soothe her nightmares would continue to complete the loneliness that existed as a large, gaping void deep in his heart.
No one knew what the former tributes had gone through and they never would. Their past was very much still a crucial part of their present and would undoubtedly haunt them until their dying day. But as long as he had the Girl who was on Fire by his side, Peeta knew that he could face whatever the future threw at him. Nestling his fair head deeper into the feather pillows, he thought that he could discern a faint "I love you" from the sleeping girl at his side.