Chapter 9: Old Maid Takes a Husband

Peeta and I hold our Toasting the following autumn. The only witnesses are Prim, Dalton, Mother, and Sorrel. Peeta's brothers. The Witch makes an appearance, though leaves after the ceremony is over, bailing on the reception. Although she seems to accept that I am not going anywhere.

I wear my blue Reaping dress to our Toasting. I feel sad that Peeta and I are forbidden from standing before the district judge and exchanging vows there. I want to be married to this man in the eyes of the law. But in the eyes of the law, Gale is still technically my husband. I will have to be satisfied with this. Besides, I have already gained the experienced of marrying in secret before. My first marriage to Darius was only sanctioned by a passionate kiss and a toasted piece of bread. So perhaps it is only fitting that I wed in secret to embark upon my third marriage. It is staggering, unfathomable, to me. Thrice have I become a lawfully wedded wife. Thrice have I exchanged vows of marriage, and entered a union of holy matrimony. I hope never to do so again.

Roasting the bread over the fire in the back of the Bakery, Peeta and I share it. The bread is dark, rich. Full of nuts and fruit. It tastes like heaven when Peeta presses a piece against my lips, feeding it to me. But what really tastes like heaven is his mouth, as it conquers mine to seal our marriage with a wedding kiss. My solemn Seam gray eyes, dancing in the firelight, close happily as I tilt my head to deepen it.

The next day, with the help of my brother-in-law Dalton, I move into the Bakery. It smells like home. As we settle into married life, Peeta bakes. I hunt. The Games continue.


About a decade into my third marriage, I am struck with horror when Peeta returns to my sickbed the summer morning of the Reaping, his toned chest heaving with news and his eyes wild with fright. I had taken ill with a fever the night before, and mercifully got an exemption from Purnia to skip the mandatory programming. Now, from what my husband frantically tells me, I am glad I did. Even gladder am I that Peeta and I agreed never to have children.

For Sadie Hawthorne, the thirteen-year-old daughter of my first husband, has been Reaped for the 95th Annual Hunger Games.

She doesn't even make it past the Bloodbath - the boy from Four ruthlessly brings an axe down on her head. She is buried, along with her district partner, in the Tributes' Graveyard, out back of the Victor's Village. Haymitch Abernathy presides over the ceremony, in a drunken stupor, just as he does every year. After the service, seeing Gale and Leevy standing off by themselves, I approach, Wordlessly, Gale wraps me in a hug.

"I finally understand," he whispers in my ear brokenly. "Why you never wanted to have children."

I draw back. "You do?"

He nods sadly. "Take care of yourself, Catnip."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You too."


Twenty years pass. Childless and eventually barren, I grow old with grace and Peeta by my side. I have never, never been so happy. Our days are filled baking bread in the bakery, the nights filled with hot, raw sex in our marriage bed in our apartment loft above the store. I am a doting aunt to my nieces and nephews from the Mellark side, though I privately maintain that my sister's babies are my favorite ones.

Eventually, however, the dull ache of pain visits me like a long-lost friend one morning, when an earth-shattering BOOM rouses me from Peeta's and my bed. A mine explosion. A big one. And indeed, when I don my shawl and hike across the Seam to investigate, I discover that District 12 has not seen a catastrophe like this in close to 50 years. Not since my father died. Since Gale's father died.

And with horror, the Foreman takes me aside and quietly informs me that my "husband" - my first husband - has perished in the explosion.

I'm free. I can't believe it. I'm free. After over thirty years legally married by law to one man, while married in my heart to another, I am finally free. Free to pronounce my name and lover openly. But this hardly registers for me. I mourn for the loss of my legal husband, but Gale's death does not incapacitate me. Not in the way that Peeta's death would ruin me.

A few days after the funeral, I approach Gale and Leevy's home - what used to be Gale's and my home - in the Seam. I rap on the door lightly and wait. Leevy emerges wearing black clothes of mourning, a dark veil draped over her face. Her eyes are sunken in and dimmed, her frame gaunt. She is all alone. Quietly, without fanfare, I hand her a bag full of coin. The District 12 government sent the compensation and family benefits ironically to the bakery, since I am technically the designated beneficiary in the event of Gale's death. I did not feel right taking it.

"This belongs to you," I declare to her. And really, it does. Leevy takes the money from me meekly.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "But Katniss," and she looks strangely guilty. "You were his wife."

"No," I smile at her sadly. "You were his wife. I haven't been Gale Hawthorne's wife in over 25 years."

"True," Leevy concedes. "But you are the Baker's wife," and she actually smiles knowingly as my face turns red. With the heat blooming on my cheeks more acutely, I glance away, picking at some lint on my dress. A pause and then: "He is good to you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, blink back my eyes full of tears, as I am moved to remember how much Peeta loves me. "Yes. He is a kind man. A decent, wonderful, generous man. He... he understands me."

Leevy picks up on the unsaid subtext without offense, merely nodding her head sympathetically. "I'm happy for you," and I can tell she is genuine. "Take care, Katniss."

I grin shakily back. "You too, Leevy."


On the morning of my fiftieth birthday, I rise, don a rented white dress, and walk with my head held high to the Justice Building to meet my husband.

Standing before the district clerk and judge, Peeta and I exchange rings and vows, pledging our lives and love to each other so that our union may be upheld and recognized in the eyes of the law. Putting a pen to the marriage license, I sign my new name for the first time, becoming lawfully Mrs. Katniss Mellark. My full name is Katniss Sierra Everdeen Freeman Hawthorne Mellark. I have taken the name of three men in my lifetime; I am certain that Peeta shall be the last man with whom I share my name and our marriage bed.

That night, when Peeta and I make love and consummate our marriage for the second time in over three decades, we both cry tears of joy.

"You love me?" Peeta breathes, resting his forehead against mine.

I beam at him and lightly peck my husband's lips in a simple kiss. "Always."