To recap on the slavery situation:

You've probably picked up on most of this already, but if you want to confirm, here's the deal:

Peeta was born a slave (his mother was a slave and all children of slaves are slaves themselves by default) and Peeta is Káto's half-brother. (They have the same father.) Peeta was freed at the age of fourteen, which means that either he saved up enough money to buy his freedom or someone paid his freedom price on his behalf. (The latter is true in this case. I've alluded to who paid his freedom price in earlier chapters, but this will be coming up again later.) Even if a slave is freed, he/she still owes his/her allegiance to their former master or mistress (who could, technically, re-enslave them either as a punishment or protection).

Also, I'm comparing the value and treatment of a slave to livestock: you take care of them, they take care of you. (It's not pretty, but there you have it.) Also, no one has the right to mess with another person's "property." (Would you borrow someone's horse without their permission? No. So the same applies to slaves.) In this era, you can do whatever you want with your livestock, property, and slaves, but they are off-limits to others.

Katniss was bought by Káto (Peeta couldn't have afforded the price), so Káto is her official master, but Káto just basically hands her over to Peeta who looks after her and protects her. Technically, Káto could do whatever he wants with Katniss, but for many reasons he won't. He kinda-sorta unofficially "gave" her to Peeta and I think it's pretty clear how strong the brother-bond between Peeta and Káto is. (Again, more on this later.) So Káto's not going to mess with his little brother's girl.

There will be more on Peeta and Káto's relationship in future chapters. If you're interested in checking out my online source material, it's this website: viking answer lady . com

Drop me a line if you have other questions! I'm not an expert on REAL Viking Era stuff, but I'll do the best I can. (^_^)

Taking the Blow

(Peeta)

I jerk awake and curse at myself.

And then I take stock of the warm weight resting against my shoulder. Glancing down, I see Katniss, her lips parted and her dark lashes fanning her cheek. She's sound asleep.

She looks so young, so impossibly young.

My fingers brush over her face before I can stop myself.

A sudden bleat startles me, which upsets Katniss' balance, and we both look up at the ewe and newborn lamb.

"Oh," she sighs. "When?"

I shake my head and laugh. "I don't know. I feel asleep."

"Sleep?"

"Yes," I admit.

"Me, too."

"We should have been watching," I scold us both. Lambing requires at least one person to keep an eye out. I scrub my face with my left hand. The right one is still pinned behind Katniss' shoulders against the stable wall. As I scratch at the lengthening hair on my jaw and cheeks, she shifts away and I reluctantly reclaim my arm.

"Two," Katniss observes, her eyes focused on a second lamb hiding behind its mother.

"Twins," I agree.

"Twins," she repeats, reaching out a hand to the muzzle of the nearest newborn.

I feel a swell of pride at Katniss' progress. She has learned so much of our language in the month she's been with us.

When she sits up on her knees and leans forward, I can't stop my gaze from following the line of her back and hips. Not that I can see much of either through her old tunic, but she'd dressed in her leg wrappings last night and her thighs are as lean and well-muscled as I remember.

Not for the first time, I'm thankful that Kolfrosta had introduced Katniss as my woman thereby letting everyone know that should they attempt to take advantage of her, they will make an enemy of me… and, by extension, Káto as well. I do not lie to myself – Katniss will never be my woman – but it is a beautiful dream to lose myself in.

I remain against the stable wall and smile when Katniss slumps wearily back beside me. The breeze she stirs smells like her. Sometimes I think I can smell her all the way across the room in the middle of the night. Those are nights when my dreams are their most vivid and… pleasurable.

Clearing my throat, I bring my knees up to cradle and conceal the hardening flesh beneath my trousers and tunic. I am helpless against the reaction of my body, but I can choose to spare Katniss and myself the embarrassment of it being discovered.

"She is the last one?" Katniss checks.

I nod, smiling when the lamb sneezes and friskily skips its way over to its mother. Katniss exhales and her body rests more heavily against mine. "My mother loved the lambing," I murmur. I don't know why I say it. I'm too exhausted from late nights spent watching the ewes birth their young to guard my tongue. Apparently, it wishes to speak of my mother.

"Where is she?"

The question is so soft as to be nothing but the rustle of bedding the glow of the lamplight. "She is dead. An illness when I was thirteen." My mother had come from a family of healers. She had saved my life after the boar had nearly taken off my leg. If only I could have saved her, too.

"Your mother as well?" I ask when I realize we've been quiet for too long.

She nods, but doesn't offer anything else. I can't imaging speaking of her home is easy.

"I wish things were different," I say into her soft, tangled tresses. Her braid had been neatly woven, shining in the firelight yesterday evening at the night-meal, but a night spent in the stables keeping a watchful eye on the livestock has had its way with it. I like it both ways. "What happened to you – being taken from your home and brought here – is terrible… but I am glad I met you."

Katniss shifts and studies me in silence.

I swallow thickly and feel compelled to confess, "I am not as good as you believe, I think."

"You are good," she insists in that flat, inarguable tone of hers. "You are happy because I am here?" she checks.

With a nod, I elaborate, "I am happy. Happy that we are friends."

"You are happy. I like that." The smile she gives me feels like a kiss. "We are friends. I like that, too."

I am drowning in her grey eyes. Her face has been clear of injury for some weeks now and she is perfect. Were I man of admirable qualities, I would have reached for her, pressed our lips together. But I am not that man. I do the work of women and children. I tell myself it is enough to have a friend in Katniss.

She bumps her shoulder against mine as she stands. I smile when she holds out her hands to help me to my feet. My leg is stiff from spending the night slouched against a wall on the hard-packed dirt floor of the stable and I hobble embarrassingly across the yard and into the longhouse.

"Uncle Peeta! Can I see the lambs? Please?"

Wide, soft, hope-filled eyes like Birga's are devious weapons. Kolfrosta thrusts a bowl into my hands as I take my customary seat beside Katniss.

"Me! Me, me, me!" Hrefna insists, toddling over with sticky hands outstretched.

"Gods. She's taking after our she-bear," I mutter. "Kolfrosta, please. You already have two irresistible daughters. Let the next one be hideous."

She pats her belly with a smirk. "We shall see in a half a year."

My jaw drops. "What? Really?"

She nods proudly. I set my bowl down and hobble over to clasp her hands in congratulations.

"This is wonderful news!"

"What is?" Káto asks, coming inside and catching me holding his wife's hands with a huge grin on my face. "Oh, damn. You told him?"

"I did," she answers unrepentantly.

"I told you to wait for me to be here!" He pouts.

I laugh in his face and offer him a handclasp and a slap on the back.

"And I look forward to offering you my congratulations. Soon, maybe?" Káto dares with a sly smile as he looks past my shoulder to where Katniss is exchanging a grin with Kolfrosta as Sigga rubs my sister-in-law's as-yet-unrounded belly.

I shake my head at my brother, my smile fading despite the happy atmosphere. "She still wears the collar, Káto," I remind him and he sighs heavily.

He doesn't assure me that he'll permit me to pay her freedom price. It's too soon. I know that. But I have faith that the day will come. Still, freeing Katniss does not mean she will choose me. I do not expect her to. But I can hope that with enough time, she might see something in me that is worthy of consideration. I cannot hope to win her away from her family, but I selfishly want that decision to not be an easy one for her to make.

Káto pats my shoulder in commiseration. He surely knows that I would never require Katniss to remain here once she has been freed. I stay because I owe Káto my freedom and because we are family. I would never hold Katniss to that debt… and we are not family. When she is free, she will leave us. Me. She will leave me.

But we have time yet.

As soon as I've scraped my porridge bowl clean, Birga grasps my wrist and hauls me outside toward the stables. Katniss follows with Hrefna hitched up on her hip and my eyes mist at the sight. This will never be us – she and I – with our children.

Perhaps I should ask Káto to find me a milkmaid after all.

Yet, even as I think it, I know I could never do such a thing. How could I take a wife when my heart is so torn?

In her excitement, Birga barrels right into the stable door and rattles it in its frame. "Remarkable enthusiasm," I mutter, "but calm down for the lambs, cub. You'll frighten them."

She bounces up and down on her toes as I unlock the door. I take my time so Katniss and Hrefna can catch up and I laugh at the sight of Hrefna's sticky hands tangling in Katniss' already matted hair. Her consternated expression is a delight even as the light in her eyes makes me flush with warmth. Oh, how I want. I want her. I want this. Our child on her hip and her gaze warm and gentle upon me.

"Lambs!" Birga demands and, laughing, I pull open the door.

Birga scrambles inside and Katniss quickly follows, reaching out a hand to the girl's shoulder to halt her headlong rush. I curse softly. I should have kept a tight grip on her hand instead of being charmed and destroyed by my daydreaming.

A sudden, delighted squeal tears through the stable house.

"Birga!"

I have never heard Katniss shout before. And never in that frantic tone. Heart in my throat, I lunge over the threshold just in time to see Katniss twist Hrefna away from our cantankerous pony, pinning Birga to the wall and bracing her feet as a hoof lashes out.

Katniss makes not a sound as she is struck solidly in the hip.

"Gods—" I choke out, dashing forward as quickly as I can and shoving the irritable animal away. "Katniss?"

I don't know what to do. She still has her hand fisted in the shoulder of Birga's smock, but she makes not a sound. Hrefna slaps Katniss' shoulder, mimicking the pony's rude behavior.

"Here," I say, holding out my arms for the toddler. "Let me take her." I don't encounter any resistance when I lift Hrefna from her arms. Placing a hand on Birga's back, I gently push her in the direction of the door. "Go back to the house, cub. We'll see the lambs later."

"But—"

"Now, Birga," I command. My stern tone startles her. I am never cross or harsh with her but, damn it, Katniss has still said nothing. I am trying not to scream with worry.

The instant Birga steps out into the yard, I wrap my other arm around Katniss' waist. "Come. Let Kolfrosta look at you."

She tries not to limp but the effort costs her. Her face pales and her eyes unfocus. I pray that her leg isn't broken, that her hip is only bruised.

"What's this?" Peeta hears Kolfrosta ask in response to Birga's noisy arrival. "You're finished tormenting the lambs so soon?"

"Uncle Peeta got angry."

"Did he?"

I ignore the sudden tension in Kolfrosta's voice. She can be as furious with me as she likes. When she storms over to the threshold, Katniss tries to stand up straight, but I don't loosen my hold on her.

"What happened?" Kolfrosta demands, concern evening out her voice and hardening it. She runs forward to take Hrefna from me so I can better manage Katniss.

"That damned pony." I could probably end the explanation there, but I am driven to say it all, to extol Katniss. My Katniss. "Birga's shout startled him and he would have kick her skull in if not for Katniss coming between them and taking the blow."

"Gods…" she breathes, turning to look at her eldest daughter hovering beside the door shyly. Kolfrosta takes Katniss' other arm and together we pull her indoors. As Katniss sinks down onto the bench, Kolfrosta shoves Hrefna back into my arms. "Take them to feed the chickens. I'll look after your woman."

"Thank you, Kolfrosta," I say, my hand reluctantly withdrawing from Katniss' shoulder.

"No, Peeta. Thank you. For bringing her here, into our home." While I'm blinking at her uselessly, she turns to Katniss and says again, "Thank you, Katniss. For my daughter's safety."

Katniss nods once and looks over at me. It's only when I see the characteristic frown draw her brows together that I realize I'm smiling. I am beaming. I am just so… so happy. Proud. In love with her.

"Come, Birga," I command as Kolfrosta begins pushing Katniss' skirt up her legs so she can inspect the damage. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of Katniss being seriously injured, but her scowl has reassured me. Certainly, she is fine. If she can be irritated at me for grinning like a fool, then she must be all right.

I take Birga's hand and marvel that Káto's daughter is skipping along beside me right now. Recalling that moment, I can only shake my head in wonder. Katniss had moved so quickly between them, pushing Birga to safety. Had Katniss not been there – had it been anyone else – Birga might be dead now.

There is no better woman than Katniss.

My heart is torn once again, half too heavy and half too light. It is light with all the good things I feel on her behalf. It is heavy with the knowledge that I will never be worthy of her.