It is the kind of day that only happens during that brief period when summer fades gently into fall. The leaves have yet to turn and the mornings have just a hint of the coolness to come. The sky is a pale robin's egg blue and dotted with fluffy white cotton candy clouds. Surrounded by this picturesque perfection, two children romp in the late afternoon sun. The home of Beatrice Mellark echoes with the sounds of their revelry.
The girl, dark braids swinging, runs continuously through the garden. Her face is upturned, arms outstretched as she twirls and spins in the heady summer air. The boy is huddled on the edge of a cleared flower beds, attention fixed on the pile of dirt and petals before him. He mixes water into the heap and clumsily mimics the kneading motion that he has seen his father perform over and over again. He adds a few leaves and rocks, pats the mass down flat then leans back to admire his work. He gathers up the muddy mess, plunks it onto a piece of loose bark and totters toward the whirling girl. She stops and watches as he pads toward her, cautiously clutching his grubby offering. He sets it down in front of her-a mucky slimy mass dotted with sticks and flowers and grins proudly as he announces, "Dis for you."
She beams briefly and kneels, plunging her fingers into the mire. A gentle voice interrupts before the girl can sample the "cake" made for her by her pint-sized suitor. "Katniss, you can't eat that. That is mud, sweetie. It's not a real cake. Come here so mama can wash your hands." The girl pauses and then runs to her mother, leaving a heartbroken little boy behind. His grandmother, noticing the quivering lip and reddened eyes, gathers him up and pats his back soothingly. She whispers softly as she wipes away his tears. She leads him into the yard and points out the small clumps of yellow amid the green.
The lingering warmth has coaxed a few late blooms out of hiding. A bright smile soon banishes the tears and it doesn't take long to gather an impressive bouquet. Beatrice Mellark can't stop a quiet chuckle as she watches her youngest grandson rid the yard of every dandelion within reach. Seeing that he is safely occupied, she busies herself with a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread and a tin of cookies. Soon, Peeta has picked every yellow bloom that he can find. He grins at his grandmother, carefully lays his flowers on the table, and helps himself to a cookie. "Wait for Katniss, scamp. You have to share." She scolds. The answering, crumb spotted smile pulls another low laugh from the woman.
Katniss reappears in much the same manner that she had left, running pell-mell across the yard. Once she reaches the table, she snatches the remaining cookie and gobbles it up. Seeing no more on the plate, a disappointed pout blossoms on the little girl's face. "Here," a small voice pipes up. A battered, broken cookie is pushed into her hand and she eats it greedily. She smiles at her tow haired playmate, whose face immediately reddens. He whispers to his grandmother, "I shared."
Beatrice grins and whispers back, "Yes, you did. That was very nice of you."
His blush becomes much more noticeable when Katniss is prompted by her mother to thank him for being so nice. She throws an arm around his shoulders and kisses one flushed cheek. Mrs. Everdeen and Mrs. Mellark can't hold back their laughter at the look of startled surprise on Peeta's face. Mrs. Mellark takes pity on him and provides a distraction by slicing the bread. Soon, sticky faces and a picture to mark the moment have overshadowed the innocent kiss. But the memory of bread and a sun drenched afternoon lingers.
Later that evening as Beatrice Mellark tucked her drowsy grandson into bed she quietly asked, "Did you have fun playing with Katniss today, Peeta?"
He gave her a sleepy smile and nodded. "I woves her." He murmured before his eyes closed.
Beatrice chuckled softly and tucked the blankets about the small form snuggled into the pillow. "Why am I not surprised?" She commented into the darkened room. "Like father, like son." She kissed his forehead and tiptoed out on silent feet.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXO
Basil Everdeen waited patiently on the porch for his eldest daughter to appear. He had been tempted to seek her out as the afternoon wore on but decided instead to wait for her to make her way home. The sun has just begun to sink behind the trees when she finally appeared, carrying an impressive string of fish and a bulging bag swinging from her belt. Basil grinned as the girl caught sight of him and lifted her burden a little higher for his examination. "Looks like you had a good day," he commented.
"It was a good day," she returned. Dropping the bag on the edge of the steps, she handed him the fish. "Mom said that she wanted something light for supper. I figured that fish would be the easiest thing. There's some katniss and turnips in the bag. I picked some field greens also. There's enough to make a nice salad."
Basil nodded approvingly then asked, "Did you get a chance to check on the snare lines? I haven't been that way for a few days. There should be a good haul on that southern string. There were plenty of fresh trails out that way." The girl's face tinted pink and she reluctantly shook her head. "Katniss," he said reprovingly. "Catching fish and foraging for greens won't take up a whole afternoon. You had plenty of time to check on the snare lines. Where have you been?"
She shifted her feet and refused to meet his eyes. "I was at the lake. I know I should have checked the traps and been home earlier. It was such a pretty day that I just lost track of time. I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." She gave him a pleading look which usually melted his heart. Basil was well aware that his daughter knew how big of a soft spot he carried for her. She had been his shadow from the moment she learned to walk, following him everywhere and soaking up everything he knew about the woods and survival. He had no doubt that Katniss would be able to take care of herself if she had to. He had raised her to be self-sufficient. Unfortunately, that independence was augmented by a stubborn will and tendency to do exactly what she wanted regardless of his or her mother's wishes.
"Make sure that you check them tomorrow. I would see to it myself but I have to patch the roof. It needs to be taken care of before winter gets here. I don't think that your mama would like snow in her living room." He lifted the fish and gestured toward the house. "Go get some bowls and the filleting knives. If we're going to have these for supper, we need to get them cleaned and cut up." Katniss smiled and hurried toward the front door, shedding her jacket along the way. A folded paper slipped out of her pocket and fell to the floor. She bent to retrieve it but her father's hand was already there. Basil frowned and looked more closely at the white square in his hand. The paper was heavy and stiff. It wasn't a type of paper that he was familiar with. He carefully unfolded it and smoothed the wrinkles so that he could examine it more closely. The drawing was stunning. It clearly depicted the lake in the woods. Basil gasped as he took in the fine lines and shading. Katniss was clearly visible, her brows furrowed as she concentrated on the line in her hand. The picture had been drawn by someone watching her from a distance. He frowned and pinned her with a narrowed gaze. "Where did you get this?" He bit out.
She seemed to shrink before the heat of his glare and shuffled her feet uneasily. "I found it," she offered weakly. "It was at the lake where I store the lines and hooks. I picked it up."
Basil looked disbelievingly at the girl and waved the paper furiously. "Tell me the truth, girl." He stated. "Lying will only dig your hole deeper. This is important. Where did you get the drawing?"
Her eyes widened but amazingly her jaw firmed stubbornly. "I am telling you the truth, Daddy. I got the drawing at the lake. I saw a boy there a few days ago. He startled me. I had never seen anyone there before so I took off. When I went back today, the drawing was there."
Basil regarded her for a moment, tapping the folded paper against his opposing hand. "Was the boy there too?" Katniss didn't answer but her silence was the only answer that Basil needed. He rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose as he mulled the situation over. He eyed his daughter, noting her wringing hands and determined eyes. He sighed and reluctantly asked again, "Please tell me the truth, Katniss. It's very important and could even be dangerous which you very well know."
She bit her bottom lip and studied him closely. Finally, she reluctantly nodded. "He's not dangerous, Dad. He's sweet. I know him." She pulled a faded and battered picture from her pocket and then handed it to her father. She smiled slightly and tapped the edge of the photograph. "That's him. Peeta Mellark. I knew him before we came to the woods. I remember him."
Basil heaved a sigh and studied the picture. Peeta Mellark. He could hear Haymitch Abernathy's sarcastic laughter already. "Katniss, you can't see that boy again. It's too risky." Her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to object but he cut her off. "The reason that we live out here has not changed. There are still people looking for me. They won't hesitate to hurt you to get to me, Katniss. The boy could lead them right to us. I can't take that chance. You can't see him again."
Katniss refused to drop her eyes. She nervously clutched the porch railing but resolutely held her ground. "He would never do anything to hurt me. I know that. I understand why you're worried but I'm old enough to make some decisions on my own. I don't want to stop seeing him. I won't."
Basil gritted his teeth as his earlier statements to Haymitch were proven. The girl would willfully go her own way regardless of what he said. Fear swirled acridly in his gut causing Basil to make a difficult and yet necessary decision. "You're going to have to. If they find out about him, they won't stop until he leads them here." Basil paused and led his daughter to the porch steps. They both sat and looked at each other soberly. "It's not common knowledge. I'm only telling you now because you need to know." He grasped her wrist and gestured toward a small pink scar on the inside of her arm. "It was discovered right after the last Hunger Games that the Capital had went to extraordinary lengths to keep the Districts in line. The Games were their most visible and useful tool for keeping control. They had other more discreet methods for staying in power. The trackers used in the Games to pinpoint Tributes in the Arena were widely known. What isn't known is that those devices were modified and implanted in the general population. All live births were required to be recorded at the Justice building. The trackers were implanted when the officials took DNA samples and filled out paperwork to record the birth.
They hid it under the guise of keeping an accurate census and as a way of making sure the entries in the Reaping Bowl were up to date. In reality, if there was an uprising or hint of unrest in the district, the Capital could activate them and watch the coming and goings around the districts. . It's fairly easy to track normal traffic patterns. Any anomaly was investigated immediately. It became an invaluable tool in weeding out hidden cells that the Rebels had established. When it was discovered, the Rebels quickly tried to develop countermeasures to confuse the sensors but they were unsuccessful. Finally, a doctor from District Thirteen and a Victor from District Three was able to block it completely or send false signals if needed. In our case, the trackers were removed so that we could hide. Peeta still has a tracker, Katniss. If the wrong people find out about him, they can and will use him. I can't take that chance with my family. I won't."
Her shoulders slumped and a haze of tears glazed her eyes. She didn't look up when her father placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "I really am sorry." He patted her clumsily and then picked up the fish and carried them into the house. Katniss angrily swiped her tears away and stared out across the yard as she thought about what her father had said. She was still glowering at the trees when a small hand tugged her braid. Snapping out of her reverie, she looked up into the clear, innocent eyes of her sister who was studying her intently.
"Are you mad at Daddy?" Prim asked anxiously. Katniss gave her a reassuring smile and shook her head. "Then are you mad at me?" The ten year old girl's worried expression tugged at Katniss' heart.
"No, little duck," she answered. "I'm not mad at anyone; especially not you. I could never be mad at you." She hugged her little sister tightly. "I'm just sad right now. Don't worry though. I'll be fine."
"Are you sad because you can't see your friend from the lake anymore?" Prim questioned. Katniss raised her eyebrows and huffed out a laugh. She had forgotten that Prim was very good at not being seen unless she wished to. The little girl missed very little that went on in the Everdeen house. It was difficult to believe sometimes that she was only ten.
"Yes, I'm sad. I promised him that I would see him again. I have to let him know what's happened. I won't disappear on him again. I won't." Katniss unconsciously echoed her father's words.
Prim's eyes were amazingly direct for such a small girl. She stared at Katniss unblinkingly for several moments and then questioned, "If you can't see him in the woods anymore, then how will you be able to tell him. Dad will be mad if you go behind his back."
Katniss gnawed on her bottom lip as her mind furiously tried to come up with an alternative. There was only one way that she could see, but it would make her father less happy than a clandestine meeting in the woods. "I'll go to him," she announced. "I can get into town without being seen. He works at the bakery. Dad will probably kill me but I have to let Peeta know." Prim's alarmed expression pulled Katniss up short. "I'll be careful, little duck. I promise that I will. I can't leave him wondering. I made a promise. "
"Katniss, wait." Prim begged. "There has to be a better way. Can't you just leave him a note at the lake? You could get hurt."
"No, I won't have him thinking that I don't care about him. I won't do that." Katniss angrily climbed to her feet, shaking off Prim's grasping hands. "You're not old enough to understand and I can't explain it any better than I already have. I'm going, Prim. You just keep your mouth shut. If you tell Mom or Dad, I'll never forgive you."
Prim bolted forward and caught her sister's hand once more. "Katniss please don't do this. Dad will be furious especially if he finds out that you've went to town alone. If you have to go, at least be smart about it. Dad always goes to his friend's house. It must be safe. Send a message to Mr. Abernathy to have Peeta meet you there. Dad will still be mad but it's better than you going off by yourself. "
Katniss looked at her little sister in amazement. "Prim, that's brilliant. It's the perfect solution." She threw both arms about her little sister and spun her around giddily. "I'll send the message now. We were supposed to meet up tomorrow afternoon. That gives Haymitch plenty of time to tell him." She sat Prim back on her feet and headed for the pens behind the house.
Telephones and radios could be tracked. The Rebels had fallen back on an old method which was ideal for their work in the smaller districts. When Basil Everdeen escaped with his family into the woods, he had adopted a similar system. She gathered up a wafer thin piece of paper, a pen, and a light leather tube. Jotting down a short message in her father's personal code, she rolled up the paper and inserted it into the tube. She carefully removed one of the specially bred pigeons from its cage and affixed the parcel to its leg. Carrying the bird to an open area between the pens and the house, Katniss released it into the ensuing dark. The acknowledgment should arrive by morning. Once she knew that the meeting was set, she would head for town. Katniss smiled as she watched the dot disappear over the horizon. This time tomorrow she would see Peeta again. The girl walked toward the house with a new lightness in her step, humming the Valley Song softly under her breath.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOX
Pryce Mellark couldn't stop the grin that wreathed his face every time his gaze fell on his youngest son. The boy had been in an ebullient mood ever since yesterday. Gone was the distraction and dark cloud that had seemed to follow him around. Today, Peeta was all smiles. His sudden change in mood had a noticeable effect on the bakery. He and Seth traded friendly insults and jibes as they worked on the bread orders. He whistled tunelessly while transforming a birthday cake into a virtual garden of sugar flowers and painted grass. The racks and display cases were immaculately clean and stocked fully. Pryce had no idea what had brought about this sudden shift but knew better than to question it. He was just glad to see his son back to normal. The bell over the front door chimed, pulling him from his reverie.
The appearance of Haymitch Abernathy caused Pryce's eyebrows to rise before he could stop them. It was a rare occurrence to see the old man out and about. He paused and looked around, as if taking in every detail of the bakery. Pryce puts on a welcoming smile and greets him cordially. "Haymitch, it's good to see you. How may I help you today?"
Haymitch flicked an amused glance at him while casually examining the vase of flowers gracing one of the tiny bistro tables set randomly about the shop. "Good to see you too, Pryce. I wanted to pick up some rolls for lunch and have a delivery made later today. Have your boy drop off a few loaves and some pastries. I'm having company later and Hazelle demanded fresh bread. That woman believes that I work for her. She treats me like a hired hand in my own house." He leaned against the counter and offered one of his sardonic smiles. "I should fire her. She keeps pouring out my liquor. It's damned hard to replace it since Ripper's gone. Nobody else has picked up the trade."
Pryce chuckled as he bagged up the rolls, throwing in a few extra for good measure. "I wasn't aware of that but I can see how it would be a problem. If anything changes, I'll be sure to let you know." He handed over the bag and then moved to the order pad. "Did you have any specific request for later? What are you serving? Perhaps we have something that will compliment it?"
Haymitch shrugged and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Anything will work. Hazelle mentioned something about lamb stew. I really don't care as long as it's hot and I don't have to cook it." Pryce snorted quietly at the man's indifference. Haymitch looked at him expectantly so Pryce perused the rack as he mulled over the choices.
"You're having lamb?" He inquired. Haymitch shrugged noncommittally. Pryce bit back another grin and scribbled on the pad. "Rosemary goes beautifully with lamb. I have very nice herbal bread that has rosemary, thyme, and a hint of basil that should do well. I will send some onion rolls as well. They aren't strong but will also work well with your main dish."
Haymitch raised his eyebrows and flapped his hand negligently. "Whatever you think will be fine. She wants some of that cinnamon raisin bread too. Have your boy bring them by about five." He tossed a handful of coins on the counter and trudged to the door. Pryce lifted a hand in farewell and once he was gone, let out the laugh that he had been holding in. The two boys, having heard their father's mirth, came out of the kitchen with wide grins and inquiring looks. "Peeta, you have a delivery later. Haymitch Abernathy wants this stuff around five. Make sure you take the freshest stock."
Peeta's smile froze at the mention of the old drunk. He took the order form and glanced at it, feeling a nervous swirl in his belly at the idea of going back to that house. Reading the last item on the list, Peeta quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "He doesn't usually go for sweets. What's the occasion?"
Pryce shrugged as he rearranged the front display, rotating the rolls and cupcakes to put the freshest in the front. "He mentioned having company tonight but didn't say who. Hazelle Hawthorne is his housekeeper and she told him what to get." Pryce gave another small snort of laughter. "I don't think Haymitch cares one way or another. Just make sure it's there by five, son." Peeta nodded and slid the order form into his apron pocket. He made it to the kitchen before his father's voice caused him to turn. "By the way, it's good to see you smiling again. Try to keep it that way. Okay?" Peeta grinned and nodded then rushed to help Seth finish up the afternoon prep work. He had just enough time to get finished up, make his delivery, and then head into the woods. He didn't want to keep Katniss waiting.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XOXOXOX
Sweating palms and a swirl of nervous butterflies seemed to be his default setting when it came to knocking on Haymitch Abernathy's door. He shifted the various bags and waited until the old man pulled the door open and leaned offhandedly against the jamb. "Well, hello boy! Fancy seeing you here today. What can I do for you?"
Peeta's confusion showed plainly on his face and he held up the bags by way of explanation. "You asked for this to be dropped off by five, sir. I'm a little early but I didn't think that you would mind." He stepped hesitantly through the door, eying the perplexing man as he stood aside and waved him through. "Where would you like them, Mr. Abernathy?"
Haymitch sniggered and commented, "Listen to that, would you? Mr. Abernathy. I have to give the boy credit for manners, sweetheart. It won't save him but it just might score him a few points before your father kills him. I doubt it but stranger things have happened." Peeta swung around to face the old drunk, annoyance plain on his face. He opened his mouth to ask what exactly the man was prattling on about when a familiar form moved into view.
"Katniss," he breathed. "What are you doing here?" He opened his arms automatically and pulled her tightly against him. "How did you get here? What's going on?" She didn't answer but buried her head into the crook of his neck. Peeta glanced at Haymitch for some type of explanation but the man was absorbed in the contents of his pocket flask and didn't seem inclined to answer questions. He dropped a kiss into the loose tendrils of hair at her temple and let his cheek rest against her, enjoying the brief closeness before he pulled back. "What are you doing here?" He asked again.
"The girl decided to take it upon herself to undo eleven years of hard work for the sole purpose of talking to you, boy. She tricked me into helping her so my neck is on the block right along with both of yours." Haymitch growled. Two pairs of gray eyes silently clashed until Peeta cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. "Anyway, she has been forbidden to consort with you in the woods by her father who is an expert shot just in case you are wondering. She apparently refused to abide by his wishes so here we are."
Peeta gaped at the words and at the disgruntled look Katniss turned on the former Victor. She didn't seem intimidated by him in the slightest judging by the incensed expression on her face. "Why did your father tell you to stay away from me and what are you doing here? Katniss, what's going on?"
Her jaw firmed and she threw another displeased glare at Haymitch. The man's lips quirked up and he gave her a mocking salute with his flask before raising it to his lips. Peeta gently touched her cheek bringing her attention back to him. She exhaled noisily and then whispered, "He's afraid that we might accidentally draw attention to my family. He thinks that you might inadvertently give away where we have been staying for the past eleven years. He told me not to see you again, Peeta. I couldn't just disappear like that after we just found each other again. I had to tell you face to face." She bit her lip and looked upset for an instant before determination flooded her face. "I promised you that I would stay. I intend to keep that promise."
Peeta felt his heart trip in his chest as her words penetrated his fog laden mind. "Katniss, you know that I want to be with you more than anything but not if it puts you in danger. You shouldn't have come here. If it's not safe for you, then you can't risk it. Not even for me. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you." She began to protest but he interrupted her, smiling gently. "You know how I feel. That will never change. I've waited this long. I can hang on a little longer. You mean too much to me. I won't have you getting hurt or worse. Not after I've just got you back."
She clasped his hand tightly between both of hers and whispered, "I know that, Peeta. I just wanted to be able to see you. I wanted you to know that I didn't break my promise. You mean too much to me too."
Haymitch cleared his throat and commented dryly, "Well, isn't that touching?" He shuffled over to the dilapidated couch and slumped down. He studied them briefly and took another swig from his flask. He seemed reach a decision because all traces of sarcasm and disdain left his face. "You have no idea what you've walked into, boy. The girl at least has some idea but you're playing with fire. This ain't a place for puppy love. If you do this, you have to be in it for keeps."
Peeta looked down into a pair of gray eyes that he had known since a stormy night eleven years ago. She stood silently, making no effort to sway him one way or the other. Whatever decision he made would be his alone. He heaved a sigh and nodded. She raised a questioning brow, silently asking if he was sure. His answering smile left no doubt as to where his true feelings lay. Watching them, Haymitch hid a smile of his own as he took another sip. Half forgotten memories flickered and the old man regretfully forced them aside. Now wasn't the time. "I'm in." Peeta announced unnecessarily. "As long as she'll be safe, I'm in. By the way, Mr. Abernathy, my name is Peeta and not boy. Just tell me what I need to do."
Haymitch snorted briefly. "Just call me Cupid then, Lover Boy. It will be up to me to make sure that you two get through this with your heads still attached. Your biggest problem will be dealing with her father. The rest will be a cake walk compared to that." Haymitch barked out a laugh at their identical queasy expressions. "Be here tomorrow at the same time. Girl, make sure your father lets you come too. If we can play this right, maybe this thing can finally be settled once and for all." He studied the two youngsters before him and chuckled again. "You two might be the spark that kicks this whole damned thing on its head. Wouldn't that be something?"
Peeta and Katniss exchanged a confused glance. He pulled her closer, reveling in her closeness and warmth. He didn't care how or why she had come back into his life. He just knew he would do anything to keep her there even if it meant striking a deal with Haymitch Abernathy. Yes, even that.
End Part 4
A/N For the purposes of this story, I made Prim two years younger. The Everdeens didn't escape to the woods until Katniss was five years old. I figured that they would have waited at least a year before having another child to make sure that they were safe. Also, I am quite enthralled with the idea of everyone in Panem having a tracker. I took the Reaping sign in from the movie-where they scanned the blood droplets to sigh the kids in-and expanded it. I do think that the Capital would have had the technology to implement this little scenario. It makes for some interesting possibilities…review and let me know what you think. Also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorite this story. I'm blown away. Thank you again. Until next time: Salanderjade