The smell of roasted pigeon surrounded me as soon as I entered The Wanigan. My stomach growled a bit. I hadn't had anything since noon. I'd spent most of the day with ten of my best men walking the track. It looked all clear. There was little evidence that anybody had been about, just wild dog tracks and some scrub brush. The station seemed to be in order as well. The Capital would be pleased. It was now a little after seven at night. I'd grown accustomed to having three square meals a day. I think back to all the times I went without and wonder if I could still do it. Probably but I wouldn't want to test it. It was scary, getting light headed down in those mines. Being a peacekeeper was not the most popular of professions. Now that every citizen of Panem could legally own a weapon, let's just say I needed to be on my toes. A steady ping of rain began to fall on the tin roof. I pulled my wool cap down a little lower and glanced around. I was dead tired but had decided to head to The Wanigan anyway. I was alone and out of uniform. Word of mouth may be primitive but if I walked in dressed in official garb with a couple of men, word of my arrival would reach the back two minutes before I did. This was the best way to see what was really going on and who was really involved.

I looked over at a collection of stalls about ten feet from the entrance. An armless man worked a pedal that turned a spit on which pigeons roasted. Beside him was a young woman brewing a concoction popular here in District Seven. It was a mixture of very strong coffee and sweetened condensed milk. It's actually quite good but if I had a cup I would be up all night. Next to her, an old woman hunched over a steaming pot, slowly stirring. She reminded me of Greasy Sae. I wonder what she's up to, if she's found some corner of Twelve to open up shop again or if she's still looking after Katniss. She'd make a killing here. I walked over to the guy, nodded toward the spit and held out a couple of coins. He pulled the small golden carcass off, dumped it into a paper tray and handed it to me. I walked while I ate. I worked my way farther in, passing people selling everything from buttons to hunting knives. It was late. Most of them were packing up their wares and heading for home. I could hear music, something distinctly Capital being too fast and all bass, as well as laughter and loud conversation. Light poured from the far end of the barge. Clearly this was where all the action was. I tossed what was left of the pigeon in the trash, wiped my mouth on my sleeve, and headed towards it.

There was a bar made of ply wood to the left, a collection of mismatched tables and chairs to the right. Between them was the juke box. The very back was open and I could see the lake and the dim shadow of the far shore beyond. No one glanced my way. Young girls occupied the chairs. One looked no more than sixteen. A group of men sat at the bar. They were watching a rather short stocky fellow and Johanna take turns throwing a knife into a beam. I knew she was handy with a knife but I was surprised she was so good considering she was so drunk she could barely stand. She leaned back ever so slightly, the knife gripped between her thumb and forefinger. Then in one quick motion, she lunged the upper part of her body forward, propelling the knife and its six inch blade into the center of the beam.

"That's five in a row," she shouted, hopping up and down. "You so owe me Keegan! Hey Burl, how much does Keegan owe my now?" A rather stout man of fifty held up a hand. All but two fingers were missing. The whole room burst into laughter. "Very funny!"

"That's six today which makes seventy-five altogether Jo," Burl replied.

"That's what I thought! Write that down in my book, Burl! Ashe Keegan owes me seventy-five!"

So that was Ashe Keegan. It seemed that most every time something untold was going on in the district, the name Ashe Keegan had come up. Not much to look at. Besides being on the short side, he looked pretty muscular, but then everybody around here has been wielding an axe since about birth, so that didn't mean anything extraordinary. He had small round eyes that remind you of some kind of rodent and a sort mashed in nose. It was his smile that was startling. The corners of his mouth jutted up but that's where the resemblance to a smile ended. It looked more like an angry gash exposing a black void where teeth used to reside.

"You look lonely."

I turned to see a young woman standing beside me. She was no more than twenty. She had a heart shaped face framed by beautiful dark curls. Hazel eyes resided under full lashes. Things I noticed right after her ample chest. I stepped back a couple of inches.

"Do I now?" I asked.

"Yes, lonely and cold," she replied, pouting a little.

"It is a bit chilly," I said. I glanced over to the bar. Johanna was drinking shots of whiskey. Keegan had his beady little eyes trained on me. I turned so my back was to him. I doubted he had recognized me but I couldn't be sure. I gave the girl a smile.

"Let's warm you up then."

"Thanks for the offer but-"

"Turn it up! Turn it up, damn it!" Johanna shouted.

The voice of the Capital announcer, Diane Brookwater, filled the room. "Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen married today in a small ceremony in the newly completed Justice Building in District Twelve."

I wheeled around, my eyes drawn to the TV screen. There she was, looking much like I had left her. A little heavier, the burn scars no longer an angry red, but much the same. Only her eyes, they were no longer filled with contempt. Why should they be? She was looking at him. I wanted turn away but I couldn't. Just like the Games nearly ten years ago, I had to watch, even though it was killing me. Her hair was done in a simple braid. I almost smiled. How many times had I caught a glimpse of that braid as she darted through the forest totally unaware I was following her? I thought of one time in particular and blushed. It had been a complete accident.

It was summer and one of those really hot days where even the pavement is breaking a sweat. My mom had been nagging me for months to fix the screen door which had come off its hinge. I had put it off and when the hot weather came, I paid for it. Instead of spending my Sunday hunting with Katniss, I had to repair the door with my mother standing over me with one of her disapproving looks. The flies circling the kitchen hadn't improved her mood any either. Thankfully it hadn't taken as long as I thought it would. So I decided to head for the woods to see if I could catch up with Katniss in hopes that the day wouldn't be a total loss. I made my way down our usual path, checking snares as I went. They were empty so she had already past that way. After thirty-five minutes I started to get worried. I was well past the point where we usually turned around. I had checked the river to see if she was fishing. I even checked the deer blind. No Katniss. Fear gripped me. There were too many things that could go wrong when you are alone in the woods. She was as tough as they come and strong for her size but she was still just a girl. I thought about the time she twisted her knee. A quiver full of arrows would be no match for a pack of dogs if she was injured. I cursed myself. If I had fixed the damn door when I was supposed to, she wouldn't have been out her by herself. If she was dead it would have been do as much to my laziness as her stubbornness. I took a deep breath to calm myself and back tracked till I could find an obvious sign she was had been there. Finally I found what I was looking for, a few drops of blood on grass. It was tacky which meant it couldn't have been there long. I began to move along the trail, farther into woods than I had ever gone. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why she would do something so stupid. I was hot, thirsty, and alternating between anger and grief.

Then I heard it, a splash. I pushed through the brush and saw a lake shimmering in the distance. I silently inched closer. Katniss broke through the surface. Relief flooded my body, followed by something altogether different when she emerged and pulled herself onto a rock. Every gentle curve shocked me. Katniss. The little brat. The insufferable tag along little girl with a braid. Only she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was a woman, and a very beautiful one at that. I felt my face turn red and I turned away. I liked girls. Plenty of them liked me. I found it amusing more than anything else, the way they flattered me or found reasons to talk to me. This was different. It was something I could barely contain. Part of me wanted to turn back around and watch her. The other part of me wanted to march out there and make her put on her damn clothes. Granted there weren't many in the district that would venture into the woods but we were by no means the only ones. There were two or three I knew of, all men, and not one of them would I trust. How easy it would be for one of them to overtake her, do the unthinkable, and then leave her for dead. Nothing could be done about it, not when she wasn't supposed to be in the woods in the first place. Something like this would never occur to Katniss. She understood the basic principles of predator and prey, but was so innocent in regards to the basest motivation in a man. I knew I should sit her down and explain it to her but I couldn't even begin to image how. This was what mothers were for, or at least I assumed. But Katniss' mother had never ventured past the District's fence herself. She was also from the town. Something like this might not occur to her either. It would have occurred to her father though. She was too young for him to warn her before he died. As I struggled with what to do, Katniss had gotten dressed started back home. I stayed behind. Terrified to leave until I knew without a doubt, she wouldn't hear me. I never told her about that day or what I saw. I never told her I knew about the lake or the little house. If I did, she would see it in my face, that more than brotherly love. Knowing Katniss as I did, she wouldn't understand. So it was a bit of a lie, what I told her about Darius. I was jealous but that wasn't when I knew I loved her. That's how it was with us. It was never what we said. It was what we didn't say that hurt.

Now she was a blushing bride, but I knew that innocent girl that stole my heart that long ago summer afternoon was long gone. Someone had managed to convince her to wear flowers in her hair, white…primrose. The camera pulled back to show a crowd of people cheering as they entered their house in what was Victor's Village. My heart froze. There in the crowd, right up front by Haymitch Abernathy, was my mother, smiling and cheering as loud as anyone. My stomach did a flip, riding that tide of emotion that comes from someone you trusted hurting you in a way you didn't think possible. Suddenly I was very angry. I felt betrayed in the worst way possible, not by Katniss but by my mother. She had to know how painful this would be for me, even after all the time and miles that had been put between Katniss and me. Not only had she not warned me so I wouldn't be sucker-punched in a public place, she beamed like she was mother of the bride herself. I pulled my cap off and walked to the bar. I was no longer listening to what Diane Brookwater was saying. I just watched the footage.

"Whiskey," I said and dropped a coin on the bar. The men stared at me with unease. Johanna gave me a wild sort of grin accompanied by a wink.

"I was wondering when you were gonna get around to coming by," she said. "Looks like your cousin got married. Invitation get lost in the mail?"

I started to say she wasn't my cousin. Suddenly I realized it didn't matter anymore. "Must have," I replied. "Of course she's moved up the social ladder considerably. She was probably worried I'd do something embarrassing like fart during the ceremony."

Johanna burst out laughing. I graced her with a smirk then downed my whiskey. I tapped the bar and Burl poured me another. Four whiskeys later I was throwing a knife into a beam. I could get it to stick but my aim was off.

"Good thing you didn't get reaped! You would have been dead!" Johanna said, laughing.

"Yeah, totally dead," I said. But none the wiser, I thought. That's the last thing I remember of that night.