Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games - I only own my original content. All names, characters, and places belong to their respective owners.


Present


Almost immediately Gale lunges across the room, his hands slamming against Peeta's chest with full ferocity.

"You fucking bastard," he spits out as Peeta catches onto his shirt, pushing the other boy off him. "I swear on God almighty I will make sure you pay for this."

"Gale!" I scream out, rushing over towards the two of them and placing my hands on his wrist. "Knock it off," I say, shoving him slightly. "You promised," I hiss.

Gale looks at me for a moment. His eyes are full of anger and almost...pity, which might be worse. "Alright," he says, stiffening as he calms down. Fists still curled, he returns to his seat. "It's not the end of the world, I suppose. I can take out the papers to marry her tomorrow morning."

I squint. "Marry me?"

Peeta scoffs, his eyes narrowing. "That ring on her finger is as much mine as the baby inside of her."

Gale leans inward. "Look," he says, "a man such as yourself has no business marrying Katniss. You know it, I know it, the whole town does. If she weds me, Katniss can stay in Twelve with her mother and sister. There will be gossip, certainly, but her reputation will be saved. Everyone has always expected it of us, I can raise the baby as my own."

Peeta nearly laughs. "There is no way under this sun that any child of mine will be raised by a coal miner in," Peeta's upper lip quivers, "this place. What do you think? That I am going to give you money so you can share Katniss' bed and my kid can call you daddy?"

"If you are worried about me doing right by your child…" Gale starts.

"I don't care if you "do right" by my child. I am the father, Katniss will marry me."

"And what about Katniss, huh?" Gale says, glancing over at me. "What about her? I have known Katniss my entire life-"

"You known known her?" Peeta raises his eyebrows, chuckling. "I think the fact that she is carrying my child is evidence that I have known her better than you ever will."

Gale scoffs. "You think you're better than me, don't you?"

"I hardly have to think it."

"Ah, yes," Gale rolls his eyes, "because your daddy leaving you money that lets you buy your way into a desperate girl's bed makes you a better man?"

"Don't even think-" Peeta's face goes white and I swear he's going to do something, but then Gale stands up.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking down at me. "I should leave, for Katniss's sake, before I do something I'll regret." At that Gale gives a little nod at me and turns toward the door. I don't miss his tightened fists and close drawn shoulders...or the tears just barely touching his eyes.

"Wait," I call out as he closes the door behind him. "Gale!" I yell, dashing across the room and through the door at a speed this dress hardly allows.

"Katniss," Gale sighs, stopping in his tracks and turning around . We're in the inn's public parlor, I'm sure my mother would consider this a far too public place to have this conversation. But there is nobody around and besides, it's not like I can save myself from being a scandal.

"Run away with me," he says, throwing his arms out. "You don't have to do this, you don't have to give yourself to - to that man."

I shake my head slightly, leaning into one of the faded floral settees. "You know we can't," I tell him. "We have our families to think about."

"How," Gale shakes his head, staring at me. "How did you end up here? How did this happen, Katniss?"

My eyes widen in horror, voice squeaking as I speak. "What do you mean, how did it happen?"

Gale rolls his eyes. "I'm not askin' for you to tell me how you did it. Trust me," he chuckles sadly, "I don't need those details."

It's Peeta braced between the doorway. I can't help but wonder how much of the conversation he has overheard, or if I should even care.

"I thought you were going to leave," Peeta says a little mockingly, "for Katniss."

"You're right," Gale, says, jaw hardening. "You and I can discuss this issue at a later date. Katniss, if you ever need me, you know where I am."

As Gale turns to exit, Peeta looks at me expectantly. "Come on," he says, holding the door open. "Come on inside, Katniss. We should...discuss things."

I look back a little hesitantly but eventually conceed with a sigh. "Fine," I say. "You're right, we should talk...about the wedding."

As soon as the door closes, Peeta broaches the subject. "Would you consider it?" he asks me as he slams the door behind him.

"Would you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. I wouldn't do anyways, wouldn't marry Gale, wouldn't deprive my child of their father...but I don't tell Peeta that.

He shakes his head. "No," he says, "I wouldn't. I wouldn't allow him to take you away from me, and certainly not my child."

Something about the way the two of them treated me in there, as if I was cattle to be sold makes me stand defiant. "You couldn't stop me if I wanted to," I tell him.

He snaps his head up. "Oh Katniss, you have no idea."

"I think it's you who has no idea, Peeta," I say, turning up my nose with a huff. "I'm better at hiding than you might think."

"You run off with him? With my child?" He shakes his head, "Money can buy a lot of things, Katniss."


Three Months Prior


Hands glide against my skin, fingers prying underneath my skirts. "Oh, God," he says as he presses a kiss against my neck. "I want to take you to bed," he murmurs, lifting the underside of my dress and hoisting my body onto his lap.

"Okay," I say a little dumbly as he wraps his arms around me, carrying me bridal style across the carpeted floors of the ornate rail car.

I assume he means to lead me to the dining area on the other side of the car, to take me on the table or the floor or something like that. But when he pushes against the mahogany divisor, a tall wall with a port door that I assumed lead to a closet, and instead reveals a small bedchamber, even the misty haze of lust doesn't overcome my wonder.

It's a rather large bed for a train car, not much smaller than the one my father shared with my mother. There's even a small nightstand pressed between the bed and the wall. But instead of a weary mattress and worn covers like the one back at our home, this bed is piled high in a plush feathers and soft billowy coverings of deep blue fabric. When Peeta collapses me against it I feel like I have fallen into the clouds.

"Better than a field, I assume?" he grins, his fingers tugging at his necktie. "Figured we might as well do it proper at least once."

I'd expect such a small space to be confining. But there's something cozy about this place, something that reminds me of when I was younger and would make a fort out of blankets with my father.

"It's nice," I tell him, running my fingers over the top of the coverings. "What is this fabric?"

"Silk?" Peeta says, a little incredulous. "You don't mean to tell me you've never felt silk before. Quite frankly, I think that might be more of an indignity than your never having…"

"I have," I inform him defensively, my cheeks flushing at the implications of his words. It's a lot easier to kiss him and lie in his bed than it is to talk about it.

I don't tell him that the thought of having a coverlet of silk surprises me. I have heard of ladies having entire dresses of silk, but I have never seen one in person. Besides, bed coverings are different. My day dresses are certainly more presentable than my sheets. In my head I try to calculate the cost of such an item like a silk coverlet. The silk they sold in the general store for handkerchiefs and embellishments cost at least five dollars a yard, sometimes more. For a laborer like Gale or my father that would be more than half a week's salary.

"Are you alright?" Peeta asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

"It's just the silk," I mutter stupidly.

"Does it bother you?" he asks me. "I mean, I can take it off."

"No," I say, squinting. "It's just, well, you would have to use at least ten yards of fabric in a coverlet. And silk is a good five dollars a yard, which means that this coverlet is equal to half a year's wages for some."

"You're thinking too much," he sighs, collapsing beside me on the bed. "I can only hope you don't think of money or finances as you kiss me," he says a little too pointedly.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, daring him to flesh out the implications of his comment.

He just shakes his head and rolls over on top of me. "Nothing," he says as he presses a kiss to my neck. His body lowers against mine, his feet rolling off the bed and dragging me by the legs so that half my body dangles on the edge.

It's not long before he's unlacing my shoes and pulling at my undergarments. His fingers move like a man possessed, desperate to get me out of my bearings. And then he stops…

"There's a rather large tear in this one," he says as he undoes my left shoe and tosses it to the floor. "Your stocking, it's ripped along the bottom."

I flush hot. "It's fine," I say, "just take it off."

"It probably won't last much longer, not that's a surprise. I recognize the quality - factory made, Snow and Company?"

I look down at him, annoyed by his sudden interest in where I buy my undergarments from. "Probably," I reply.

"It has been shown that it is a better financial decision to buy garments from one of the more expensive retailers. In the long run it saves the consumer money."

"I didn't come to you for financial advice, Peeta," I remark. "And for the record, I have had these stockings for nearly a year. They're my best pair."

"Oh," he says, his eyes narrowing into a frown. "I didn't mean to...nevermind."

I study him intently as he unravels the rest of my underthings. He's attractive, I've determined that previously, but there's a certain softness to him here, in this moment, that I don't get to see when he's posturing in town or making jokes at my expense. Something delicate about the way he single mindedly focuses on the laces of my boot, how he unravels my stockings with care not to tear them.

"Here," he says, folding the black stockings and putting them in my boots. "I'll put them over there. Now close your eyes," he says, as his head dives below my skirts, "let me do something for you."

I screw my eyes shut the second his mouth touches me.

I think the act might be viewed as vile in practicality, or even a sin, but right here - right now, it just feels like heaven has shattered below me. My toes tighten as his tongue presses against my core, my legs squeezing around his back as if they themselves can pull me closer to completion.

"Peeta," I whimper, a little embarrassingly as I feel my senses heighten.

"Say my name again," he murmurs. "I want you to say my name."


Author's Note: So there's that. What did you think of the fight between Peeta and Gale? What about Peeta's attitude in the flashback?

The prices for silk were found in a book of consumer prices over the 19th century. They are accurate to the times.

Remember to favorite, follow, review, etc. As always, you can find me on tumblr at starveinsafety and everlarkfanfictionclub. I just started a fanfiction challenge writing blog (with a secret santa exchange) called thefanfictiongames!

If you like my historical fics, check out The Ruby Thief - a Prince!Peeta story where Katniss, a thief and part time assassin, gets a little more than she bargained for.