Okay, this chapter kicked my butt. There were sections of this that were really hard to envision and write, and I hope they don't stand out from the rest in a bad way. This story, like every one I've written, has gotten away from me length-wise. While that can be trying as far as delivering the promised content in the promised time frame, I feel it's a good thing as far as adding depth to the story. Hopefully you'll think so too. There will be one final part (and potentially a brief epilogue) after this one. Enjoy!


The Twelve Months: A Midwinter's Tale

Chapter Two: Gold

By GhtlovesThg

*~*~ 1 ~*~*

April's breeze teased the hair draping Katniss' shoulders as she picked galanthus. All about her, no matter where she put her hands down, they would come up filled with dewy snowdrops. The activity quickly transformed from an urgent task to a joyful pastime. She was reminded of childhood afternoons spent in fields with Prim, picking all the buttercups, dandelions and honeysuckle their little hands could carry, then dumping them all in their mother's waiting lap. But here, in this place, the memory of what she'd lost brought Katniss mirth, not sorrow.

She tucked the flowers snugly into the basket, fitting as many as possible. Then another layer, one upon the other as the basket gradually began to fill. Warm raindrops splashed her back and shoulders as a soft spring shower began, gentle and loving in its mildness.

As she picked, she stole glances back at Peeta from beneath her lashes. He was intriguing. Captivating, almost, but not because he held all the power of December. It was more about the way he interacted with his siblings, the way he'd treated her. Even now, several of the other months sought him out where he stood beneath the willow. She could see him laying a hand encouragingly on the shoulder of little November, rolling his eyes and smiling at July.

Though he must have seen everything there was to see many times over, the expression in his eyes was fresh, as though everything he regarded was seen anew. There was an openness about him, a willingness to engage with others, that Katniss had either lost at some point, or never possessed to begin with. And if anyone should be numbed to the wonders of the world, shouldn't it be one for whom they were a mere exercise, a responsibility every year? And yet, his sense of enjoyment at the seasons' change had been so great as to increase her own.

There was something about Peeta that drew one towards him like a moth to flame. Which was amusing, considering he was the antithesis of heat. But even though he embodied the cold, there was a deeper warmth to him, one of feeling and sentiment. And in that, she thought, he was most like December- the month when men look to the best within themselves. Peeta's brightness outshone all around him.

And the most miraculous thing was, even though he had fulfilled his promise, even now that he'd ensured her impossible task would be fulfilled and he need not concern himself with a mortal any longer, he was looking at her too. At least half the times she glanced up at him, his eyes were slanted in her direction while he spoke with his siblings.

Katniss looked back down to the basket. The flowers were nearing the top. Soon after it was filled, the galanthus before her melted away, all except what she'd picked. She looked up in surprise, only to see April exiting the lake, shaking water from his hair and shoulders as rivulets ran down his arms, grinning like a cad.

And then May appeared. At first, she was nowhere to be seen, but then the fifth month was standing at the bank. Katniss wasn't sure where she'd been hidden, but the redhead, like her brothers and sisters before her, spoke silent words to usher in her reign. Where the galanthus had been, foxgloves started to grow, and daisies followed soon after.

The trees had been lush with leaves for some time now, but Katniss noticed berry bushes along the edge of the treeline. Upon closer inspection, she found ripened raspberries and picked two handfuls.

Though she knew May's durations was limited, and that it would be many months' time before she'd see gorgeous wildflowers again or dragonflies lazily gliding over the gently lapping lakewater, she wanted nothing more than to go back to Peeta, to present him with the berries, humble though they were, as he'd presented her with the feast.

As Katniss approached, the other months surrounding him obligingly drifted away, as if on cue, until only sprightly November joined him in watching her approach, brimming with excitement and a slyly knowing grin. Eventually she too departed his side, giggling and gadding off along the grassy banks, and Peeta alone watched Katniss' approach. Even out of his element, surrounded by warm weather and sunshine, nothing managed to diminish Peeta; he looked lit from within as she reached him.

Standing before him, the berries seemed suddenly pathetic. But they were all she had to offer. Embarrassment stilled her tongue as she stood there awkwardly.

"I see you've got your galanthus, Katniss," he said helpfully.

"That's not all," she answered, firmly deciding to go out on a limb. She set her basket down to reach into her pocket, drawing out one of the handfuls of berries. "For you," she indicated, tipping the pile into his waiting palm.

Peeta looked delighted at the humble little pile of berries resting in his hand, slightly crushed from their journey in her pocket. He sampled one and expressed his approval with a contented hum, closing his eyes to savor the taste. Katniss tasted her own handful. They were sharp and tart, and then oh so sweet. But it was his enjoyment of them that she savored most.

Once they had finished, Peeta swept his hand before her. "We should get you dried off, it looks like April got the best of you with his showers. He's like a robin in the rain whenever water's near," he described good-naturedly, "he can't resist splashing in all the puddles."

"I could kind of see that," Katniss joked wryly.

"Let's get you out of the shade and into the sunshine. Now we just wait as my siblings cycle the seasons back to winter," Peeta explained as they walked out from beneath the tree.

Soon enough, June melted out of the scenery and sat in the shallows of the lake, gazing up at the sky while silently mouthing the necessary words. The weather grew warmer as Peeta led them over to the sunniest embankment. They sank down into the grasses, side by side, and Katniss let the warmth wash over her as wildflowers popped up around them in every shade.

She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing in the sweet-smelling grasses. The May weather had gone a long way toward drying her, and the June heat was indeed finishing the job. Katniss leaned her head to the side and carded her fingers through her wild hair. At length she laid back, soaking in the warmth of the ground beneath her.

Peeta shifted closer to her, and she glanced up at him inquisitively. Encouraged by his permissive smile, she laid her head on his knee and grinned when she heard a happy sigh from above her.

Before long, there was girlish laughter at her side, and Katniss felt something light and feathery brush her cheek. Cracking an eyelid, she saw that little November had joined them, teasing her face with a lacy wild carrot blossom. Katniss smiled softly back, pleased that the girl approved of her presence, but also missing Prim powerfully.

"Peeta says your name is Katniss," November intimated, as if revealing a great secret. "I've never met a girl named for a flower before. I've never met any kind of girl before," she amended shyly.

"I've never met someone named November before," Katniss replied

"Really?" She inquired with great interest. Katniss nodded and added, "It becomes you."

November abruptly departed, but was back in moments with more flowers, setting them around Katniss' face and tucking them beneath her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Katnisss laughed.

"Flowers become you too, so I'm going to make you the prettiest flower bouquet ever. With Katniss right in the middle!"

At this, Peeta threw his head back and laughed, the melodic sound echoing through the trees like sleigh bells

He joined in, weaving dandelions into her dark locks, further adorning her. Katniss closed her eyes in bliss. Peeta's hands back in her hair felt unbelievably good, and their little trio brought her a contented, lighthearted happiness that was so missed, she almost wanted to weep. Her family had that once.

Instead, Katniss breathed deeply, and began to sing the song her mother had sung to her, the song she in turn had sung to comfort Prim at the end. It spoke of the comfort they'd shared when they were all together, the quiet happiness at each other's presence. Now she was feeling it again, elation bubbling through her even while she missed Prim so acutely. She was overwhelmed and had to give her emotions a release, one she could only express in song.

As she began, the ever-present mockingjays hovering at the edge of the meadow-like lake shore fell silent, and Peeta's breath caught at the sound of her voice.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open, the sun will rise

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you."

November joined in, hesitating with the lyrics that changed, but picking up the tune from the first verse. She continued arranging flowers around Katniss until the song was finished. By that time, Katniss suspected November and Peeta had made her into a whole field of wildflowers, rather than a simple bouquet.

Katniss reached out to tuck a yellow bloom behind November's ear. "Thank you for singing with me and for making me into a bouquet. Thank you for reminding me of my sister."

November smiled, and bobbed her head, pleased. She left Katniss and Peeta in pursuit of a cabbage moth shortly after.

"You rival all the flowers in this meadow ," Peeta said. Katniss rolled her eyes, embarrassed, and opened her mouth to protest. "You're radiant as the sun," he insisted before she could object, following his words with a smile so genuinely sweet and just slightly shy that she accepted the compliment without further argument.

She was so drawn to him it was hard to look away. And if she wasn't mistaken, it looked like Peeta was leaning down to her just slightly-

"Hey brainless!" a sharp voice cut into their idyll. "This is still for you, so pay attention!"

July strode over to the lake, aggressive as a heat wave and temperamental as a summer storm. After she muttered a brief phrase, an oppressive heat settled over them, muggy and cloying.

They sought refuge in the shaded patch beneath undulating willow osiers, where the temperature was marginally better. Katniss loosely braided her hair in an effort to keep cool, taking care to keep the dandelions Peeta added in place. Looking up at the silvery green leaves, she wondered at how well the verses of the song she'd sung fit this night.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away

As the heat broke and summer thunder distantly rumbled, Katniss turned to Peeta.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

Peeta regarded her carefully, and gave her the truth.

"Because you're strong and brave, even though you're hurting. Because you're the kind of person who goes out of your way to make November feel special even though she bore a resemblance which so obviously brought you pain. I didn't know you before this night, but I am deeply tied to this forest, and I can sense its knowledge of you.

"You are like an wintering mockingjay. You've withstood the cold for so long, enduring all the hardship life has slung at you, singing defiantly all the while. I knew you were something special when you burst through the trees, bedraggled and exhausted in your red coat, nevertheless charging toward your fate with a song on your lips.

"Because you're beautiful for the effort you make. For the peace you seek," he ended on a whisper.

Katniss had to turn away from him, looking out over the lake as she was overcome by his words. She'd had no idea he saw her like that, thought of her like that. Certainly, he was knowing and mysterious, as an otherworldly being, but how could he look at a typical mortal and see...that.

As if in explanation, he spoke softly, "I have an eye for beauty."

She wanted to respond, to tell him that it must be because he was such a thing of amazement himself, even amongst his other siblings. He'd shown her kindness and warmth she hadn't received since her family lived, long after she'd given up on expecting such things. He stood out amongst the others like a beacon, a glimpse of hopeful brightness on the horizon after a long, dark night of anxiously awaiting the light of dawn. But she felt she couldn't, because she didn't have the right words. Surely she couldn't have anything grand enough for the twelfth month of the year.

He accepted her silence without question, and she was ashamed she'd failed to verbally reciprocate his esteem of her, for she truly felt an answering devotion to him.

July's work was finished soon after, and pleased to have Katniss' attention, she strutted away from the lake. When August began, Peeta turned back to Katniss.

"Autumn approaches, and then I follow. We recreate all the months here for you, not to merely show you our might, but because when you're in our presence, you have departed from the time in which you live. It's the reason we do not regularly interact with humans. Our lives follow a different progression and time frame than your own mortal existence, and one cannot experience both at the same time. A human life can only deviate from its rhythm in this way twice, before losing its place in the temporal world of changing seasons and numbered years. The third occasion it stands outside time, it must depart it forever, or die upon its return. You must enter your time the way you came in, so you will need to leave us after I reclaim my reign."

Katniss lowered her head, resting it in her arms as she sat with knees bent before her. The prospect filled her with profound sadness. She didn't want to lose Peeta. She'd only just met him. But leave she must, and she'd have to accept it, sooner or later.

At least they still had a little longer. She could fill the time with learning all she could about him. Katniss would later realize that though they talked at length, it felt like mere moments.

Throughout the end of summer they revealed small details about themselves, and in early fall Peeta told her about the many celebrations that took place during his reign the world over. Katniss had no idea there were so many, or that they could be so varied, and wished she could see them.

As September blustered through, he told her about unreliable shifts in weather when his siblings would fight; Indian summers and balmy winter days. Peeta described the things he liked about shaping the winter, but also admitted to feeling lonely with only his brothers and sisters for company.

The trees around them burst into brilliant colors as the leaves turned. Katniss told him about her family- what they were like, their funniest stories, and her saddest. She let herself feel a little anger that she was alone without them, and it felt good. When she cried, he traced the tracks of her tears with his fingers, sweeping the drops off her face gently. As his fingers trailed along her cheeks, she shivered, but Katniss was unsure if it was from the coolness of his fingers or the answering heat that blossomed in the wake of his touch. Whichever it was, she had never felt such a thing before him.

By now the spirited winds of October had begun, and the dandelions in her hair had gone to seed. The gusty bursts of wind stirred the fluffy orbs and the little florets broke free, sailing away in the breeze to join the vivid reds, oranges, and yellows of the swirling foliage. One got caught in a whorl of Peeta's hair.

Katniss reached up to remove the dandelion seed from his hair, the curl in question springing back as the wispy floret was released from the strands. She glanced from her task to his eyes, and saw Peeta was looking at her intently, his gaze flitting back and forth as he took her in. As she started to lower her hand, Peeta raised his, trailing the cool pads of his fingers across her jawline, her skin flushing in the response. With the slightest pressure from his fingers, he drew her mouth to his for a whisper of a kiss. The chill of his lips tingled, cool and smooth, as he barely grazed her own. Despite the mere hint of contact, Katniss had never felt a touch so intensely in her life.

When they separated seconds later, Katniss could scarcely breathe and Peeta let out a shaky exhalation. Her lips burned with sensation. She wanted to feel the cool of his lips against her own again. She shivered at the thought.

Dipping her eyelids, Katniss leaned back toward him and Peeta obliged her, meeting her mouth with his own. This kiss was more fervent; they sought to imprint the feel of their mouths in each of their memories. Katniss tucked the curl back behind his ear, and Peeta clasped his fingers around her small wrist, holding it at the side of his head as if to keep her there.

She wasn't moving away anytime soon. She could feel a warmth building between them at each place they touched. In response, Katniss threaded her fingers further into Peeta's supple curls, dragging the locks between the gaps in her fingers again and again.

Peeta groaned in appreciation and their kiss deepened, his mouth slanting wider over her own. His skin was no longer cool to the touch, but feverish against hers. Soon, Katniss was pressing herself into him further, seeking more contact, more heat, and tugging at his lips with urgency. She heard a whimper she suspected was her own as she opened her mouth to him. Peeta's hand swooped over to cradle the back of her neck, steadying her against him as his lips kneaded at her own.

Katniss was not the first to move away. When they finally did break apart, it was with rapidly rising chests and pouding hearts. She felt exhilarated and alive, like when she hunted.

Peeta was visibly affected, too. Where he'd been pale and nearly colorless before, Katniss' color had bled into him, adding a rosy tint to his now flushed cheeks. His lips were reddened, turned a deep pink by their activity. They were wet and warm, and it was as if she had begun to thaw him, heating him up like a spark. They stared at each other, his warmed breath leaving his lips in cloudy puffs, condensing in the cool autumn air. Peeta leaned his forehead against hers. "Katniss..."

"Your eyes are the color of a starry December night," she blurted, awed.

"And yours are a December morning," he chuckled, before fixing her with a sobering look.

"You don't understand the effect you have" Peeta told her earnestly. "Since you came to this lake, I haven't been able to look away. But there can be no arrangement between you and me. You're firmly in the land of living, mortal things, and that's a world I can't follow you to."

Katniss knew he was right, and their accord would only make her approaching departure more difficult, but she couldn't resist. She pulled him back to her, and their subsequent kiss was a heated, frenzied meeting.

Too soon, they were interrupted by the rattle of dead leaves on shaking branches, and they looked up to see November laughing down at them.

"It's my turn now," she said proudly, and Katniss looked at Peeta sadly, feeling a knot of dread settle in her stomach. The night was almost over; dawn and December would soon arrive. Peeta brought one of the furs from before over to her, and bundled it around her as November began.

Once November had sung a brief invocation from her place in the tree, the last of the leaves began to fall from the woods lining the lake's clearing. Patches of ice began to form on the lake.

The other months approached, and Katniss stood up to bid them farewell. Peeta's two winter siblings simply nodded to her, but March shook her hand, and April gave her a showy kiss on the cheek. May and June smiled secretly as they clasped her shoulder.

July came to stand by Peeta and looked up at him expectantly. He sighed sadly, and addressed Katniss. "Mortals must not know all the workings of their world, Katniss, or the opportunity to weave in the miraculous diminishes," he explained.

"Twelve means to say that you better not tell anyone about what you've seen, or how you obtained the galanthus. Most mortals are not like you, and their lust for power knows no fear. Many would seek to seize abilities such as ours, if they could. We do not want to deal with power-hungry humans. Our impact on your world should remain restricted to the changing of the seasons," July insisted

Katniss nodded in understanding. She would not tell. "I promise not to speak of what I've witnessed here."

"Neither should you seek us out at whim," April added gently. "For eventually it would draw attention, and you will not be able to find your way back to us without aid." He handed her the basket of galanthus, apology in his eyes.

Katniss knew what April meant. She should not go searching for Peeta simply because she wanted to be near him.

July ruffled her hair fondly and August, September and October each bobbed a bow. Finally, November hopped down from her branch and threw her arms around Katniss in a tight hug. Once they'd separated, Katniss raised her eyes to Peeta, embarrassed to feel another tear escape the confines of her lower lids.

Peeta reached his hand out to her and motioned his head to the now-frozen lake. "Come on," he said gently. Keeping the fur carefully wrapped around her shoulders against the cold, she went with him.

Hands clasped together, one cool and one hot, but warm where they were joined, they walked over the ice to the center of the round body of water.

"I always think of creating December as a little like painting on a canvas. A person may think the landscape is drab or just white, but it's so much more than that. Layers upon layers of color," He raised their joined hands, whispering words of his own to start the change, and he helped her paint December onto the forest. Flashes of blue crackled through the ice beneath their feet as the lake froze further. Snow fell heavily but briefly, piling upon the ground in silvery-shadowed hues. He waved their hands toward the sky as the sun came up, and the most beautiful rosy-peach shade of orange suffused the dispersing bluish-gray veil of the morning. The spindly clouds sitting low on the horizon blazed forth a fiery, brilliant gold, announcing the sun's approach. Next he splayed his fingers between hers, and a coat of ice encased the branches of the trees, glinting purple, goldenrod, and azure in the light of the morning.

Katniss had never witnessed anything so breathtaking, let alone had a part in creating it. The memory would be another treasured gift. Looking over his work for a moment, Peeta gave a little nod of approval, before turning to her once more. "I think that's the best one yet," he said with a little wink.

Her delighted laughter broke the stillness of the moment, and she could tell he was pleased to cheer her up before their parting. When silence reigned once more, Peeta looked deeply into her eyes, and placed something small and round into the palm of her hand.

"I know that you are largely alone in your world, and I wish I could change that. I fear there will be a repeat of whatever circumstances brought you hungry and near-frozen to our lake."

There was an understanding in his expression. He knew that there was practically nothing for her to return to, and she saw an answering loneliness in his own eyes, stark and barren. "The most I can offer you is my friendship, and the knowledge that you have my lasting regard. Besides that, there is only this I can give you," he said regretfully.

Katniss looked down to see a pale pearl resting in the crux of her darker palm, the same shade as Peeta's hair, but gleaming with a host of muted colors, like she'd just seen threading through the palette of Peeta's December. Its iridescence was like mother of pearl, and Katniss knew this was no ordinary object.

"I give you a pearl, and not some other gem, because unlike polished stones, a pearl is a mortal animal's legacy to the passage of time. This pearl was created by a living thing, with one lifetime, and stands testament to the seasons and months it witnessed. Time was sealed into each layer of nacre, as it created something beautiful out of that which harmed it.

"I would say it fits us, a gift from time to the most exquisite beauty hardship has shaped," he whispered.

Katniss nodded her agreement, and reached out to clasp his hand tightly in her own, in the hopes of conveying what his gift meant to her.

"Should you need me, for any reason whatsoever, you need only hold the pearl in your palm and say,

Stop all the clocks, halt the sun here.

Call forth the twelve months of the year.

Pass through the dead of winter bleak,

Race through spring for the month I seek.

Slip through summer, and sneak by fall,

Bring December to heed my call!

Do this, and I will be at your side. But it can only be used once," he said regretfully.

"Thank you," Katniss whispered, awed.

"I know that I should hope you never need to use it, and I do. But I know that if I do see you again, it will be the brightest spot in the eternity my brethren and I know," he confessed.

"You should go now," Peeta said, heartbroken. But before she could take a step, he tangled his fingers back through hers and pressed a fervent kiss to her hand before releasing it for the final time. The words of the lullaby returned to her, as they had many times this night:

"Here is the place where I love you."

Forcing back her despair, Katniss made herself turn and move off the ice, in the opposite direction of the twelve months. Walking away from Peeta felt completely wrong, and she looked back at him once more. He stood, watching her leave, and she ached with each subsequent step, gripping the basket handle tightly in grief.

The sun heralding the first day after the solstice broke over the horizon as she disappeared into the trees.

*~*~ 2 ~*~*

As soon as Katniss had entered the treeline, the fur he'd wrapped around her transformed into a long winter coat of white fur. When the sunlight hit the individual strands, she could see all the colors in Peeta's pearl, all the tones and hues they'd painted onto the sky and forest.

She closed her eyes in a failed attempt to block it out. How could she bear seeing these reminders of the past night regularly? She would have to manage somehow, the objects were as precious to her as the memories were painful.

By the time she got home, her exhaustion was so great she could barely stand. Pounding on the door so early proved effective, as it woke Clove, forcing her to admit Katniss to put an end to the racket.

Katniss sleepily set the basket on the table and trudged up the ladder to her little loft room without a word about the source of the miraculous flowers.

Clove, shocked at her success and survival after that terrible blizzard, let her go. As Katniss ascended the ladder, her stepsister was just beginning to inspect the flowers, the greed and glee transforming her features. Katniss carefully hung her coat on a peg in the wall and then lay down, eagerly succumbing to sleep.

While Katniss and Merah slept, Clove tried on each of her dresses, determining which was the finest for a trip to the palace. When she could wait no longer, she shook Merah awake and showed her the galanthus.

"We should wake her and ask her where she got them," Clove said, imagining boasting about 'their' find to all who would listen in the palace.

But her mother had different ideas. "Don't be a fool! If we wake her, she may want to come with us and then she could get her hands on a portion of the gold. Especially if they start asking questions and find out that she's the one who got the flowers.

"We should leave while she sleeps," Merah insisted further. "The sooner the better. Go borrow that slob Abernathy's mule and cart. Give the drunkard a few coins and he'll let you. We'll go to the palace in style!"

Once she had returned with mule and cart from the nearby farmhouse, and Merah was still getting ready, Clove quietly climbed up the ladder to peek into Katniss' room. Her eyes fell on the magnificent coat, and she knew it would be just the thing to wear to the palace. It wouldn't suit Katniss at all, she'd probably just ruin it.

Pulling it on, she met Merah at the door, where the woman admired the white fur enviously. Covering the basket with a cloth to hide its contents, they set off, hoping to reach Snow's Palace by evening.

*~*~ 3 ~*~*

When Katniss next woke up, it was late afternoon. It was cold enough that frost latticed her loft window, and the spindly threads of ice shone gold in the late afternoon. Katniss was reminded of Peeta's eyelashes, and instantly the impossible events of the last night came rushing back.

Wondering if she had perhaps dreamed everything, she looked for the white coat. It was gone. But her tattered red flannel coat would have been hanging in its place, and it wasn't. She descended the stairs to check for the galanthus blooms, but the table was also empty, and Clove and Merah were nowhere to be found.

Then Katniss remembered the pearl, the most precious of the items she'd taken from the lake, and reached into her pocket, hoping against hope that it was there and that she had not dreamed her encounter. Her fingers touched the cool, round surface, and Katniss knew her memories were real. She had been saved last night. Peeta was real. She drew the orb out to look at it.

It still shimmered iridescent, emitting a soft glow as pastel jewel-tones gleamed from within. Its enchantment was obvious, and considering the absence of her white fur and the presence of Clove's sturdy brown coat by the door, she was glad it had been in her pocket. She'd have to be careful to make sure no one saw it. There would be questions about what power it held, and Katniss couldn't betray the Twelve Months' trust like that. That, and this pearl was her last connection to Peeta.

She brought it to her lips, giving it a small peck, and running the smooth surface along her chapped lips, as if pressing a chaste kiss to the lips of the giver himself. It hurt to think that she could only see him once more. Time passed differently for him than it did her, and he traversed the world constantly. Would he remember her a few years hence?

She wondered how long it would take Peeta to forget her. The idea that he might was unbearable, and almost had her opening her mouth to speak the incantation, but she stopped. Peeta gave her this pearl for emergencies. She had to be practical, she should save it for when she truly needed it. And who knew how long that may be? Perhaps she'd never need it, but not knowing the future, she'd hold onto it forever just in case. Her connection to the wintry boy would sit in her pocket, wasted as she moved through life, forcing the regular motions of living.

Katniss couldn't dwell on this, couldn't endlessly wonder about the best course of action. She had to look to the living world and pay attention to her mortal needs. But she also didn't want to lose her connection to Peeta. He reminded her of how she might have been, had life been gentler and she'd not learned long ago to be wary and distrustful of everything, scoffing at the appearance of good fortune and counting down to the moment it went sour. Peeta made her wonder what she would have been like, had she not turned away from the goodness in life in suspicion, averted her eyes from the sun. She felt closer to that supposedly lost part of herself around him.

Perhaps the woods would help her. She'd always done her best thinking there, surrounded by her father's trees. Tucking the pearl back into her pocket, Katniss took up her bow and quiver and set out to find some food and peace of mind. She just hoped she'd be able to ignore the fact that in her heart, they were Peeta's woods now, too.

*~*~ 4 ~*~*

Princess Coin didn't bother to knock as she turned the jewel-encrusted handle of the door to the greenhouse, centrally located in the Snow Palace. This was her grandfather's crystalline sanctuary, but she had no qualms intruding. He never denied her anything. She walked silently down rows upon rows of all manner of rose species. Encased in satin slippers sewn with seed pearl accents, (a far too common adornment for anything but house slippers), her feet didn't make a sound.

She found him tending some flowerless stalks in the center of his gilded glass structure, its beveled panes and lush garden giving the scene a fairy-like quality, and inspiring the title, 'the Ice Palace,' for his retreat.

"Grandfather, they've done it!" Coin excitedly exclaimed.

The king's shoulders tensed, his hackles raised to be so interrupted.

"You know I don't like to be disturbed in here, Coin," he said with a barely repressed snarl. "What is so urgent that it must interrupt my grafting?"

Coin continued on, quite unperturbed about her guardian's ire. "Snowdrops! Peasants from the village by the Seam have brought some. But they only brought a basketful, and I need many times more than that!" she whined. "You must go and make them get some more, as soon as possible! I said I want these halls filled," she said with a temperamental stomp of her slippered foot.

Now she had Snow's attention. "Someone actually brought galanthus? Real galanthus?" Unlike his insipid heir, Snow knew that powers beyond man must be at hand to bring a basketful of flowers to his palace in December.

King Coriolanus had long been seeking ways to increase the scope of his power. He had begun a campaign long ago of seeking out any suspicious activity, and monitoring his subjects, looking for just such an otherworldly occurrence in the hopes that he could harness such a power for his own use. His efforts had started a kingdom-wide witch hunt, and scores of men and women, accused of performing miraculous healings, possessing psychic abilities, or having preternatural knowledge had been seized and brought to the palace. All had been tortured for more information, but none had yielded anything substantial. His subjects thought he was rooting out dangerous fiends, but he was actually combing the land for mystic power.

"Yes, but that's not the point!" Coin said moodily. "The point is they didn't bring enough."

Snow quickly walked past the princess and out of the Ice Palace, seeking the flowers in question. Coin followed, tripping behind his clipped pace in her voluminous gown.

He found them in one of the smaller halls, off to the side of his throne room. Minister Heavensbee was there, and servants were transferring the blooms to multiple vases as Plutarch counted out gold coins in order to fill the basket. The two female peasants watched the gold like dogs watch soup bones.

"How did you come to obtain galanthus!" he demanded in a commanding voice, and the female peasants cowered when they realized they were in the presence of the king.

"W-we got them from the forest in our village," Clove stammered. "We just found some and picked them, your majesty!"

Snow turned his yellow eyes on the older woman, as if daring her to agree with or deny her daughter's claims.

"Indeed your majesty, they were just there in the snow, in a little patch far in the woods," Merah affirmed.

"What you are saying," Snow said, tasting his words slowly, "is impossible. You have one final chance. How did you get these flowers?"

Merah looked as though she'd be ill. "Truly, your highness, we found them in the woods," she said nervously.

Snow glanced out the window at the waning daylight. "Perhaps a night in the dungeon will inspire some honesty. Then we can agree not to lie to each other."

Merah and Clove balked as their dreams of fabulous fortune quickly mutated into the very real fear that they might never see the sun again. They knew of all the country folk- midwives, apothecaries, and fortune tellers, that had suddenly disappeared, likely into that very dungeon.

"Wait! We'll tell you!" Merah screeched in terror. "We didn't get the flowers at all! They were brought to us, by my stepdaughter!"

Snow waited silently for more.

"She's a dark, backwards thing- sullen and secretive. She disappears into the forest for hours at a time, and she comes out with all sorts of plants and animals to use for her macabre purposes."

While parts of her description of Katniss' actions were technically true, Clove understood Merah's intention, presenting Katniss as a witch to save their own skins. She took up the story. "We have no clue what it is she does there, but she's obsessed with the spirits of the dead. I know she thinks she can commune with them in that forest! When she heard about the reward for galanthus, she disappeared into the fiercest snowstorm of the year, and she was gone all night! She should have died, but she miraculously returned this morning, healthy as can be, and looking better than she has in months!"

Merah continued further. "She must have used magics to get the flowers, but she didn't tell us that! When we saw she got the galanthus, we brought them as fast as we could, knowing that you wanted them right away," Merah said obsequiously, turning to Coin in the hopes that her pleading tone would get her farther with the person who was openly admiring the flowers.

Coin was thoroughly unconcerned with the women's plight, however. "Can't this girl get more? Why did she pick so few?" she inquired angrily. "I need more, many more! And I better get them, or you shall be punished!"

But Snow was considering them thoughtfully. It was obvious they had brought the flowers for gold alone, and not for the pleasure of their monarchs, but he had seen true puzzlement in the women's descriptions of how their the girl had not only survived the storm alive, but in better health than before, and with a basket of spring flowers. This was certainly worth further investigation. Immediately.

"In light of your confession, you will not be spending the night in the dungeon, but on a coach back to your home," he instructed. "When you get there, you will make your stepdaughter go out for more galanthus. I must see with my own eyes how these flowers are obtained. I shall travel to my hunting lodge. It's close enough to the Seam. When she plans to go, you must send word, and my fastest riders will accompany me to her location. One of you must follow her into this forest, and lead the rest of us there without her knowledge. We will catch her in the process of whatever unnatural arts she practices. You will do this, or you will be executed," Snow said calmly.

Trembling in fear, Merah and Clove nodded in understanding. "Well then, you have a coach to catch. And I have a journey to prepare for. Plutarch, you're in charge of things while I'm away," the king rumbled.

The women turned to go, shaking and nervous, but Snow stopped them. "Don't forget your gold," he sneered with the smile of a serpent. "You came all this way after all. And who knows how long you'll have to enjoy it?"

And with that, King Coriolanus strode away, Coin at this heels, insisting she come along to direct the picking of the snowdrops, to ensure the proper amount was obtained.

*~*~ 5 ~*~*

Katniss had been surprised to spend an entire day without Merah or Clove's presence, but she had certainly enjoyed it. Upon returning from the forest, she fixed herself a meal with the rabbit she'd caught. She'd attributed her luck in bagging anything but a squirrel in this sparse winter to the new sense she had of the woods. She felt connected to them somehow, and her sense of contentment from the night before had continued into her hunting trip. She had been less worried about catching game, and more attuned her surroundings than ever before. It had paid off.

The rabbit had been delicious. Once finished with her meal, she'd set to tearing an old washrag into strips and weaving them into a small cloth braid. She sewed a small, makeshift pouch out of a scrap of tanned hide Merah had missed when leaving on her first trip to town. Katniss had fashioned them together into a little bracelet pouch to house her pearl. She wanted it at hand for emergencies, but mostly she wanted to keep it close to her at all times, somewhere she couldn't help but keep an eye on it.

Once that was completed, she banked the fire and turned in. Katniss climbed between the sheets and pressed the pearl to her lips before tucking it safely into its pouch and drifting off, thoughts of the giver following her into slumber.

The next morning, things were back to normal. Merah and Clove had returned sometime before the dawn, and they had climbed up to her room before even removing their coats. Katniss was rudely awoken with lots of yelling and even a nasty yank to her braid from Clove.

The first time they requested more galanthus flowers, she refused. Despite the vicious threats and promise of suffering Merah hurled at her, Katniss gave the same answer the second and third time as well. The more they asked, panic in their voices and fear in their eyes, the more they divulged, little by little.

By noontime, Merah and Clove were a wreck.

"Katniss, King Coriolanus will kill us if you don't get more flowers! You're just going to sit back and let us die? He'll come after you, next! It's so little to ask, just another basket of snowdrops! How could you do this to us, your family?" Merah pleaded.

"Snow wanted to come here and see them growing himself, you know," Clove added. "But we promised him you'd bring them because we knew you wouldn't like it if the whole army invaded your woods," she lied. "We were thinking of you, and if you don't deliver, he will come here."

Katniss stewed. She hated Clove and Merah, that much was certain. But she didn't want them to die. And her hatred for them was nothing compared to her hatred for King Snow, who had ruined the lives of healers all over the kingdom of Panem. Those that hadn't been seized in the name of the crown for suspected witchcraft had had to give up their practices. Those who practiced in secret, trying to help others in the community, were often reported to the king by petty neighbors.

Sicknesses went untreated and injuries were poorly healed. Infant and mother mortality rates skyrocketed when midwives also became suspect. Her mother, a skilled healer, had been forced to stop practicing, shunned by the whole village. No one would do business with her family, and her mother lost her spirit. Katniss' father had tried to support them off the bounty of the forest exclusively, but it hadn't been enough. They'd fallen on hard times, and her mother's depression worsened. When they'd fallen ill, their depleted stores of medicines hadn't been enough. It had been too risky to be seen doing anything but hunting in the forest, and they'd gathered very little healing materials for the winter. Her mother passed away quickly after falling ill.

Katniss had tried to find the necessary plants in the forest to help them. but winter had been approaching and nearly everything was dead. She didn't know all the alternative options her mother would have. Her father, exhausted from trying to keep the family going, fell ill next. Then Prim. No one came to help them. Everything Katniss tried didn't work. Prim was so young, the illness took her in a week. Her father recovered eventually, but he was a broken man. Come spring, he had married Merah, and Katniss had to wonder if he was trying to run from the memory of the life he lost, or if perhaps he was trying to distance them from it for Katniss' sake, so that if dire straits returned, their neighbors wouldn't be too fearful to help them. A 'respectable' wife may have been his solution, she'd never know.

But if anything, his spirits had sunk after his second wedding, and the illness her father survived had forever weakened him to others. In a few short months, he had left her, too. Katniss couldn't help but blame Snow's brutal inquisition and elimination of healers for the misfortune. Ever since, she'd gathered plants despite the risk of being falsely accused for witchcraft. The lack of healing materials had been what killed her family.

She certainly didn't want to do anything that would please King Snow. But she wouldn't be complicit to his murdering more subjects, which meant she had to get galanthus flowers to save Merah and Clove's lives.

The one bright spot was that she'd see Peeta sooner than she'd ever expected, because she'd need to use the pearl to request another advancement of the year. July would be incensed. She hoped Peeta wouldn't think her ungrateful or foolish for seeking the flowers again so soon.

Though she was happy at the prospect of seeing him, she was saddened too, for it would be the last time and she had hoped to spare the treasured visit for as long as possible. After this, all the years of her life would be without his presence. But there was no alternative.

"Alright, I'll get you some galanthus. But I'll do it alone. Expect me back tomorrow morning. Now give me my coat," Katniss said, glaring at Clove, who still wore the white fur.

"You can use mine. You're just going to the forest, you wouldn't want to ruin this one," Clove hedged. Katniss snarled, but Merah broke in.

"Get going, our lives are on the line here, and you're worried about your coat?! You'll get it when we get the galanthus!"

Katniss was furious. She wanted to show her appreciation for the coat by wearing it to the lake when she saw Peeta, but it wasn't worth incurring Merah's wrath. The woman seemed on edge and volatile, and Katniss was surprised she hadn't lashed out yet. Knowing how duplicitous the two were, she'd just have to be sure to hold the galanthus over their heads until Clove returned it.

Katniss laced up her boots and put Clove's brown coat on. After wrapping up some leftover rabbit meat and slinging her bow and quiver over her shoulder, she left the house, noting that it was beginning to snow as she walked in the direction of the woods.

Merah turned to Clove. "Follow her, and make sure she doesn't see you! It's a good thing she didn't fight us on the coat, because it will help you blend in with all the snow. I'm going to Abernathy's to use his jabberjay. I'll be there with the king and his troops as soon as I can. Don't lose her or it's both our necks!"

And with that, Merah rushed out of the house. Clove followed after, but turned in the direction Katniss had taken, careful to make sure she waited until Katniss was out of sight and couldn't see her. Clove planned on following her footprints in the snow, but the falling flakes were worrisome. If it took a while for the king to reach them, Merah would have difficulty finding the footprint trail under a fresh snowfall.

As she passed the old apple tree, Clove yanked out the knife she'd thrown into the trunk just two days ago. She'd have to mark some trees just in case.

*~*~ 6 ~*~*

Tired of banging on the rickety farmhouse door, Merah eventually just forced it open. The stench she was greeted with was awful, but at least the man she sought was close at hand.

After shouting at Haymitch Abernathy to awaken with no response, she resorted to kicking his chair out from under him.

He came to, snarling like a beast as he crashed to the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" Haymitch roared, cussing a blue streak.

"You fell out of your chair."

"S'that so?" he mused suspiciously. Merah ignored his question. "I need to use your jabberjay to send a message. I'll pay."

"Oh yeah? Well where's the cart and mule I loaned you yesterday? I'm not made of money here, darlin'," he sneered.

Merah had forgotten about the cart and animal they'd hired from Haymitch to get to the palace, far too concerned with staying alive on their coach ride home. "You'll get your cart! I need your jabberjay, and I'm in a hurry!" she blustered, throwing down three of the gold coins Prime Minister Heavensbee had given her on the table.

Haymitch's eyes widened. That was real gold. That was a lot of drinks. Plus, he needed to repair his farm, he'd let it fall to ruin to pay for his booze, but he knew he needed to start raising geese and chickens again if he wanted to continue to purchase alcohol. His used to be the best poultry farm in the Seam, and loaning out his jabberjay occasionally these days wasn't cutting it.

"Alright, alright, keep yer shirt on, I'll get it." When he returned, he refused to leave while she conveyed the message. When he heard exactly which hunting lodge she wanted the trained bird to deliver the message to, the source of the gold on his table suddenly made sense, but not the reason for it.

When the bird flew off, Merah turned to leave, and Haymitch grabbed his coat, following her out.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Following you," he said.

"What?!" Merah spluttered. "You'd better turn right back around! I don't need your slovenly hide skulking about! This is important!"

"So's my farm, darlin,' and I ain't leaving your side 'til I get my mule and cart back, or see some more of that gold," he growled.

Powerless to stop him, Merah turned angrily back to the path that led to their cottage, to anxiously await King Snow's arrival.

*~*~ End Part Two ~*~*


The plot thickens (always wanted to say/type that)! I will try as hard as I can to have the conclusion up in a few weeks. Until then I'll be working on a picture for alonglineofbread and yourpeetaisshowing's Fandom Charity Drive participation gift package (an event ending 12/31 that you should definitely look into! Search "fandom charity drive" on tumblr!).

Was it clear to everyone who the months were? I hope so, I put some tiny and not-so-tiny clues in there, depending on the month/district tribute.

For those that reviewed, followed, and favorited this story – you are wonderful, you made my week!For EVERYONE that has read this far, thank you so much!

Have a happy holiday all, and if you want to read a REALLY beautiful everlark fairytale, one of the best reads the whole fandom has to offer, head over to Mejhiren's cozy, wintry "When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun" (if you somehow have not stumbled upon this gem yet), and be sure to leave a review! You will not regret it!