Thank you so much for all the great reviews and kind words about the last chapter. I'm so pleased you all liked it. :) I do try to respond to every review but if I've missed you out please accept my apologies.
So I've become a bit addicted to AU Hunger Games fics in the past week. I've fallen in love with HGRomance's stories. I definitely recommend checking them out.
It was a bright morning in early June when the trucks started arriving in Victors Village. Five new families, some from 12, some from various other districts. We had been expecting it for a few days. President Paylor sent in a team from the Department for Housing and Community Development to see to it that the remaining Victor's houses were in good order and ready to be inhabited. The houses had never been lived in so with a thorough clean and a lick of paint they were as good as new. That is, all but one; Peeta's house. He'd sprung the suggestion a few days after the storm incident; after our conversation with Dr Aurelius.
"What do you think?" Peeta asks tentatively when I don't respond straight away.
"You want to move in?" I ask incredulously. Even as I say it I feel my face distort with confusion. Sure, Peeta spends most days with me in my house. He eats here, he sleeps here, he practically lives here, I mean….wait, what was the question again?
Peeta smirks at my expression and places a kiss on the crease between my brows. It has an instant calming effect. "I'm just saying it makes no sense to keep both houses. They're too big for just one person. My house has three bedrooms and I haven't slept in a single one of them for over a month. I spend all my time here with you or at the bakery. That house could be given to a family that really needs it."
He makes a convincing argument, I must say. But even so, I still feel like my stomach is tied in knots. "But Peeta, living together….it's so…it just feels so…grown up," I finish lamely, earning a throaty laugh from Peeta.
"Katniss, we're both 18 now. I'd say we are pretty grown up." My birthday had come and gone without recognition last month. Birthdays weren't really celebrated in the seam prior to the war, especially during the years you were eligible for reaping, but Peeta had been mortified when he found out. He apologised profusely even though I told him it didn't bother me. I'd never had a birthday party or a cake; my family just couldn't afford such luxuries. My birthday felt just like any other day to me. That night Peeta had snuck out of bed and in the morning presented me with a fully frosted chocolate cake, complete with candles.
"Look, Katniss," Peeta says. "If you're uncomfortable with this, I completely understand. I won't beg you to let me move in."
His blue eyes bore into mine. He wouldn't need to beg, his eyes do all the work for him. I smile. "Ask me again," I say. Peeta cocks an eyebrow in confusion. "Go on, ask me again."
He levels with me and takes my hand. "Katniss…will you allow me to move in with you?"
I 'hmm' dramatically and dodge the pillow that Peeta swings at my head. Things escalate very quickly into a full blown pillow battle. Peeta is at a disadvantage without his prosthetic leg so it doesn't take me long to pin him. Our manic laughter subsides, hearts beating wildly as I stare down at him. He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and the word tumbles out of my mouth.
"Yes."
I'm pulled from my thoughts by someone tugging on the end of my braid.
"No one likes a nosy neighbour, Katniss," Peeta teases, sitting opposite me in the bay window.
"I'm not being nosy," I argue. My gaze drifts back to the dozen or so strangers carrying boxes into their new homes. "I'm just…curious. Don't you want to know who's going to be living there?"
Peeta smiles and pulls me to my feet. "Let's go and find out, shall we?" He takes my hand and leads me down the porch steps and across the green. I shy away from the blatant stares of my new neighbours but Peeta, in true Peeta Mellark style, waves and greets them with a friendly nod. He directs us towards a woman standing in his old front yard. Her poker straight hair hangs like curtains either side of her pale, angular face. She smiles sweetly as we approach and Peeta stretches out his arm to shake her hand.
"Great day for moving in," he says cheerily. "I'm Peeta. I live across the green."
"I'm Lorraine," the woman replies. She points to a young boy carrying a box through the front door. "That's my son, Milo. And this," She says, gesturing to a little girl half hidden behind her leg. "This little shadow is my daughter, Nora."
Something about her choice of words and the way the little girl peers up at me cautiously with eyes the colour of hot chocolate makes me breathe in sharply. For a moment all I see is Rue. My gasp draws worried expressions from both Lorraine and Peeta but he squeezes my hand comfortingly and steers the attention away from me. He asks Lorraine about her journey and her home district but I don't hear much of their conversation. I blink rapidly and slowly my hallucination dissolves. Nora studies me with a little too much concern for such a young child. I raise a half smile and drop down to her level but she huddles closer to her mother's leg.
"Hi, Nora. I'm Katniss," I say softly. She blinks back at me. "How old are you?"
"Oh honey, I'm sorry. I should have mentioned," Lorraine interrupts, patting Nora on the head. "Nora is deaf. She can lip read pretty well but it takes her a little while to learn the way your mouth moves."
Nora tugs on her mother's skirt and articulates something with her tiny hands, to which Lorraine responds with complicated gestures of her own. I recognise it as a form of sign language. I recall Caster and Pollux communicating in a similar way.
The busy but peaceful ambiance in Victor's Village is suddenly disturbed by the shrieks and giggles of several new neighbour children running out from behind the house of an original resident.
"Stay away from my bird, you little brats," Haymitch's harsh tone echoes around the village as he stumbles out onto his porch, waving a fist in the air. He stops abruptly upon seeing the crowd of new families. He sways a little on the spot before turning on his heel and returning to his house, muttering incoherently.
"What a pleasant man," Lorraine mutters sarcastically. I snort and she blushes, realising she spoke louder than intended.
"That's Haymitch Abernathy; victor of the 50th Hunger Games," Peeta explains. "He's a little…rough round the edges." I snort again and Peeta nudges me. "But he's harmless," he assures.
Peeta, charming as ever, is quick to establish friendships with our new neighbours. He bakes 'welcome baskets' full of sweet pastries and granary loaves and offers his assistance helping the families settle in. Much to Haymitch's displeasure, Victor's Village becomes home to fifteen children, all of whom idolise Peeta. The first time they call him 'Uncle Pete' he grins from ear to ear. He really is good with kids. I watch from the porch steps as he teaches the young ones how to play hop-scotch and giggle when the Carmichael's 13 year old twin daughters bat their eyelashes and invite him to a tea party in their backyard. The eerie silence that once permeated this solitary corner of District 12 has now been replaced with laughter and animated conversation. It feels good to be around people again but I still struggle with my age old habit of antisocialism. I choose to observe from the safety of my bay window. At least this way I don't have to suffer the pitying looks and unanswerable questions when the sight of a blonde braid or blue eyes makes me choke on thin air. I've decided that is why I like Lorraine; she doesn't ask me any uncomfortable questions. She seems to understand my need for privacy. Instead she talks about her life; raised in District 13, married at 18 and sadly widowed at 22 by the pox epidemic. She hands me a mug of sweet tea and takes the seat next to me at the kitchen table.
"The epidemic claimed a lot of lives. So many children died." She grips her mug tightly in both hands before glancing over at her own children. "I was lucky, I guess. Losing Warren was terrible. But if I'd lost my kids…" She tails off weakly and I follow her gaze. Milo is lying on the floor at the other end of the kitchen. He has surrounded himself with coloured pencils. His tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on his drawing. Nora is helping Peeta to measure out ingredients for a cupcake recipe; standing on a chair in order to reach the kitchen counter. She watches Peeta's face closely as he slowly mouths the number of cups of flour she needs. She carefully empties 3 cups into the bowl and turns back to Peeta who signs 'well done' with his hands. He'd asked Lorraine to teach him a few basic signs in order to communicate with the little girl he has become so fond of.
"Nora has a little crush on him," Lorraine says quietly.
"So does every other girl in the village," I say with a snigger.
"It's because he spends time with them. Children love attention." She purses her lips and turns to look at me. "Do you think you'll ever have kids?"
My heart seizes and I try to ignore the little half glance that Peeta throws in my direction. He continues to stir the cake batter with Nora but I know he's listening. This is the first time Lorraine has asked me something even remotely personal and I'm unprepared. My face betrays my emotions and she quickly stutters out an apology, laying her hand on my tightly clenched fist.
"Its fine," I say a little too quickly, feeling Peeta watch me from the corner of his eye. I push back from the table and excuse myself. As I stumble out of the kitchen I hear him hushing more of Lorraine's apologies.
"She just needs a minute," I hear him say.
My legs feels like dead weights as I climb the stairs but instead of turning right into my bedroom my feet carry me left across the landing and down the hall, coming to a stop outside a closed door. I listen. I can no longer hear voices from downstairs. There is only silence. Once upon a time I would have heard the sweet melody of a young girl spilling her secrets to her cat behind this door. Once upon a time that young girl had looked up to me as her protector and provider. My whole body trembles and my throat burns hot with choked emotions as tears sting in my eyes. I lift a shaky hand to rest on the door handle but pull it away sharply. It's ice cold to touch. I stuff the hand in my mouth to muffle the sound of the sob that rips from my chest as I crumble to the floor.
I don't know how many seconds, minutes or hours pass before Peeta is there at my side. He scoops his arm under my knees and lifts me up, holding me tightly against his chest as he carries me to the bedroom and lays me down gently on top of the sheets. I instantly curl into foetal position but feel him tuck himself behind me. His fingers weave delicately through my hair as my sobs dry out and reduce to whimpers.
"Tell me why you're upset," he asks after a long period of silence.
"Prim wasn't just my sister, she was my baby," My voice cracks as a fresh wave of tears rolls down my cheeks. Peeta knows my story. I was 11 and Prim was 7 when Dad died and Mom's depression chained her to her bed. He knows I stepped into the role of mother
"You took such good care of her, Katniss," he whispers in my ear but I shake my head violently.
"I failed her," I hiss, curling into myself more tightly. "I was meant to protect her. I tried…" I wail pitifully as I become buried under a suffocating blanket of grief. Peeta tries to soothe me with words and caresses but I cry harder. He only knows half the reason for my tears. I made a vow years ago, before the war, even before my first games. Losing Prim had strengthened my resolve to keep that vow.
"I don't want children," I say with a surprisingly steady voice. Peeta's caresses cease and I force myself to turn and face him.
"Katniss I…," He trips over his words, unsure of how to respond. "We haven't…I didn't ask…"
"I see the way you look at Milo and Nora," I cut him off abruptly. "Everyone can see that you're a natural with kids."
He frowns. "I like spending time with them, Katniss. That doesn't mean I want a kid right now."
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. "But you'll want them eventually? One day?" I ask. He looks thoughtful for a moment.
"Maybe, one day. I don't know."
I close my eyes briefly before pinning Peeta with a serious look. "Peeta, I need you to know that I will never change my mind. I don't want children now, or in the future."
He stares back at me silently, his expression unreadable. Finally he pulls me close and places a kiss on my forehead.
"Rest now, Katniss," he instructs me gently. "It's been a long day."
I settle into his embrace, trying to shake the feeling that this conversation is far from over.
Memorial week arrives suddenly in mid-July. The building anxiety over my speech combined with the dusty, humid air makes me irritable and poor Peeta is too often at the sharp end of my frustrations. Plutarch calls for the seventh time to check on the progress of my speech and confirm arrangements for the camera crew. My anxiety lifts slightly upon learning that Cressida, along with Pollux, has requested to be assigned to District 12. I will never feel comfortable in front of a camera but at least with Cressida there will be a sense of familiarity. On the morning of their arrival Thom lets us borrow his flatbed truck. I enjoy the cool rush of wind that blows in through the open window as we drive past newly contrasted houses and businesses on our way to the train station. Peeta taps his fingers against the steering wheel in time to a cheerful folk song playing on the radio. Thankfully the airwaves are no longer dominated by high-pitched, repetitive Capitol pop music. He pulls the truck into a parking bay and jogs round to my side of the vehicle to open my door. I take his hand with a grateful smile and follow him towards the platform just in time to spot our guests disembarking.
"It's good to see you, Katniss," Cressida says, as we approach. "You're looking well."
I offer a small smile. "Thank you. I'm…doing much better."
Peeta shakes Pollux's hand and gestures to the 2 large bags by his feet. "Is this all yours film gear? We brought the truck so there shouldn't be a problem fitting it all in."
"This is all we brought," Cressida confirms. "But I can't speak for the others."
Peeta and I exchange confused glances. "Others...?" I ask.
"The security team," Cressida continues. "Plutarch did tell you…didn't he?"
I frown and shake my head. "Tell me what?" The sight of 3 men dressed in protective clothing, exiting the next train carriage, catches my attention. I recognise the tall, dark haired man in the middle immediately. I glance cautiously at Peeta, noticing his jaw clenched tightly and his hands balled into fists but he relaxes a little when I touch his arm. The dark haired man sets his eyes on me. A hundred different emotions run through me; a hundred different things I could say.
"Hey, Catnip," he greets.
My face remains expressionless. I steel myself and take a breath. "Hello, Gale."
I couldn't resist introducing Gale into the story. I do promise that this is a strictly PeetaxKatniss so please don't worry about her running off with Gale.
It might be a while before I get the next chapter up. I've got a wedding to go to, plus and full week of work next week. Please be patient with me.
Your reviews are so encouraging so please hit that button! ;)