Thank you to Court81981 for giving me the idea for the tree house (a little RH movie inspiration)!


Katniss

Joy. That was the most suitable word to describe the mood that swept through Panem. Over the prevailing weeks, the kingdom changed in ways not previously imagined. The villagers prospered, were fed and given ample shelter, clothing, firewood, and medicine.

In and around the palace, everything seemed lusher. A courtyard fountain was installed, swelling with water that the children swatted at for hours at a time. Dark draperies were exchanged in the castle for cheerful yellow ones.

Snow was gone. Seneca had been banished, most likely seeking refuge with one of his siblings. In spite of their existence, the consensus regarding the two elder sons was that they wouldn't try to reclaim the throne. Cato should have been crowned, but he'd been well known to despise his father and harbored no love for Panem itself. As for Marvel, his cowardice had never been a secret.

The original guards who'd managed to survive the rebellion had been retained. They'd been innudated recruiting droves of men, and it was quickly becoming apparent that they were still a dominable force, especially under the guidance of their new ruler.

As next in the line of succession, the Duke of Heavensbee was decreed the future monarch, an opportunistic figure whose generosity was motivated more by ego than earnestness, for he dearly loved being worshiped. Nevertheless, the man supported his people, was rumored to have a keen understanding of battle, and established a repertoire with the new army.

Heavensbee also treasured Peeta's counsel. Not only had he helped win the uprising, but he and the duke came from the same area of the country, with His Grace's lands bordering Peeta's old village. Heavensbee regularly held court with Peeta, interviewing him on matters of combat and weaponry. This factor also contributed to the conclusion that Snow's sons wouldn't risk their necks coming near Panem: Peeta Mellark and his gang, the kingdom's own legend, and now heroes, were assiting in the army's training.

Peeta.

Since the fall of Snow, we hadn't touched or been alone. I sensed how much he wanted to approach me, make himself available, but I turned away each time. If he were to come too close to me, I feared I would break.

Because I still hadn't recovered from my father's death.

During the rebellion, he'd fought to protect Prim from the stampede of citizens, accidentally pushing himself into the path of a soldier's sword. After that day, I had no time to think about myself, concentrating only on my sister, who needed me to hold her at night as she sobbed herself into exhaustion. I would allow no one else to comfort her. I would allow no one to breach the bubble we'd created. Not even Peeta.

It went on like this for weeks. The kingdom rejoicing, my family in mourning. My sister and I shutting ourselves off to merriment and spending our evenings in solitude and reminiscence, sometimes whispering, sometimes not speaking at all. The only event we attended was Heavensbee's coronation, which turned him into a king from one moment to the next. His Majesty insisted we stay in the palace as his guests until we'd mended. We didn't object. Neither of us wanted to see The Seam so soon after.

I believed Heavensbee also wanted me to show me off at a celebration he was planning, to mark the beginning of a new era in Panem. He'd chosen a date when the kingdom would be fully settled.

It was Rue who finally broke Prim from her despair. One evening, as I shuffled toward my chamber, I passed my sister's room and heard giggling outside the door. Rue was telling Prim a funny story involving the gamekeeper and a fleet of partridge. I listened to my sister's fragile laughter, and then left the girls alone.

It was the first night in ages I spent by myself. I didn't like it. I fell into a trance, staring at the hearth, staying that way until morning. In the great hall, Peeta caught my eye as I walked into breakfast, noting my laborious gait. He and his gang sat on one side of Heavensbee, for the king had also insisted they stay until the grand celebration. On the other side sat members of his court, as well as Prim and I.

"I'm sorry I didn't come to you last night," Prim said, sullen and guilty.

"I'm glad you didn't," I said. "I'm happy you've made a friend in Rue."

During the meal, I felt the weight of Peeta's gaze. After, as I raked my chair back to stand, he passed me, and I paused, as I so often did in proximity to him. I may not have given him leave to seek me out, but whenever he was close, I always stopped what I was doing.

His footsteps slowed when he reached me. "Leave your chamber unlocked tonight," he murmured and then left the hall.

That evening, I did as he requested, burying myself under a mountain of blankets, the fire from the hearth warming my toes. I'd been longing for him all this time but hadn't dared permit myself the comfort.

The sigh of the door opening and closing cut through the silence. I squeezed my pillow but kept my back to him, listening as he moved across the room, filling the space with that distinct rhythm of his. The mattress sunk under his weight, and he slid over until his chest hit my back, that scent of bark and cinnamon relaxing me. His breath beat against my neck. Without hesitation, Peeta slipped his arms around me, holding tight while I watched the light from the flames illuminate the golden hairs on his skin, my braided Seam bracelet secured around his wrist. My eyelids shut as his hands glided over me.

"You can let go now," he whispered.

So I did. The restraint of the past weeks, my silence, my own grief, unleashed from my stomach, spiraled up my neck, and poured from my mouth. My body shook, but Peeta held me. My sobs rung through the chamber, but Peeta held me.

I missed my father so much. But Peeta held me.

And then I slept and slept and slept, at one point rolling over and snuggling into his chest. When the sun rose, I was rested. And Peeta was gone. But he returned again late that evening, and in the dark, we revealed secrets.

Me: "I've thought about drowning myself, but I couldn't be like my mother and abandon Prim."

Him: "I was relieved when the typhus finally took my parents. I hated watching them deteriorate."

Me: "All the women in court talk about are fashion and scandals and you. Yesterday, I spilled that wine on my dress on purpose, just to get away from them."

Him: "I've been feeding my helpings of bread to Heavensbee's cat beneath the table."

Me: "Cats don't find me agreeable. Felines eat bread?"

Him: "They do if the loaves have the consistency of leather. And his cat is strange, so maybe it will like you."

We fell into a routine, glancing at one another briefly during the day, with me offering passing looks of gratitude, him responding with a kind expression. At night, he snuck into my room. One time, as we lay on our sides, facing each other, Peeta confessed that he missed the forest.

"Why did you choose to live there?" I asked.

"I guess I felt closer to my parents being in the woods. I met Gale there first, when he tried stealing a rabbit from my camp. I offered to share it with him, but he told me of a hungry family in the village. So we brought the rabbit to them, and that's when I realized they weren't the only peasants in need of food, money. I began to devise a plan on how to get those things to them."

"So you have Gale to thank," I said.

"I thank him every day, he just doesn't know it. Taking care of the cottagers was like taking care of my parents in a way I never could."

"Would they have approved of your methods?"

He laughed. "No."

I laughed, too.

I taught him how to whistle, but I struggled to keep a straight face because he was never on key. He taught me how to draw mockingbirds. I wasn't very good at it, yet his teasing distracted me from my self-consciousness. Gradually, I found myself looking forward to those nights for reasons beyond solace. Unlike the frenzied pace in which we'd grown together in the forest, this period was different.

Everything escalated one morning when I awoke and discovered Peeta still asleep, hair tousled, lashes long and fluttering, hand curled beneath his chin. I traced the outline of his jaw, and suddenly that hunger that overtook me in the lake, in the camp, in his bed, came rushing back. I began wanting things I hadn't thought about in so long. Wanting other parts of him to connect with other parts of me.

"I have another confession," I whispered, although I knew he couldn't hear me in his dream state. "When we were apart, I used think of you...and make myself feel good."

His lids snapped open, and I shrank back, my face suffusing with heat. He'd been awake.

He stared, observing my humiliation, blue eyes darkening for an instant, then glinting. "How good?"

I whacked him with my pillow, and he chuckled, and I hit him again. He grabbed his own pillow, and we lurched up onto our knees and surged into a battle, pounding at the other until we toppled over in hysterics, Peeta's body covering mine. The reality of his torso crushed against me produced a shift in atmosphere. I sucked up my giggles. So did he.

Peeta tried to pull away, but I clung to him instead.

He winced. "I won't hurt you."

"I know that," I said, confused. "How would you hurt me?"

He asked me what happened with Seneca, a subject that seemed to have been plaguing him, but that he wasn't sure I'd wanted to discuss until now. At first, I couldn't conceive of what he meant, but then I noted the repressed fury in his blue eyes. He thought Seneca had taken advantage of me in the cell. The prince hadn't, but that didn't dismiss the pain he'd caused with his fist.

"Seneca didn't touch me that way," I said.

"He still hurt you," he said, smoothing my hair, his features remorseful. "I wasn't there."

"Stop. You're here now."

I hoped he saw in my expression what I suddenly wanted from him. And how desperately.

"Peeta..."

Unconsciously, his hips dug between my thighs, grinding slightly. We both hissed, and I recalled the last time we'd been like this, only without clothes. He did it again. And again, his movements shallow, my leg hooking over his backside. He brushed his lips against my collarbone, then dragged them along my neck. Our hands drifted, breaths thickened with curiosity. Each time we came close to kissing, we pulled back, concentrated on a different form of contact, prolonging the moment.

A whimper curled from my mouth, but then someone knocked on the door. Peeta flew off me.

"Lady Everdeen. Up this instant, please!" Effie chimed.

Peeta hid in the closet, waiting as my chaperone and Rue fussed over me until I was presentable for breakfast. While they guided me out of the room, all I could think about was continuing my physical exploration of Peeta that night.

But he didn't return. Nor did he return the night after that. Like Prim, he'd suddenly ended his visits with me. The wanting drove me mad. Yet based on the lingering looks he gave me whenever we crossed paths, the feeling was mutual. I couldn't deny the thrill of our stolen glances.

As to the reason he'd ceased spending his evenings in my chamber, and why neither of us pursued one another, I had an idea. One I loathed to dwell on. Beyond the ardor, reluctance often seemed to contort his features. Now that the fervor of our reunion, the rebellion, and my subsequent grief had waned, it became easier to see things from a more composed perspective. And let original feelings settle in. Feelings like anger.

Was he still cross with me over my deceit? Perhaps our heated touches had reminded him of our last bout of intimacy and the confession that had followed. I longed to question him, but I was afraid of the answer.

kpkpkpkpkp

On the morning of Panem's celebration, I resumed archery practice. The fog spread like a yawn across the gardens. Although it would make shooting difficult, I welcomed the challenge. I enjoyed vanishing, preventing anyone from finding me. Standing in an open area of the lawn, where I'd set up my shooting range, I relocated the marker to a managable distance, took my position, and set my bow, sucking the mist into my lungs.

"Higher," a voice said, cracking at the end of the word.

My pulse drummed. Wheeling around, I playfully aimed my arrow at his chest. He wore his cloak over a tunic the same shade as his irises, his blond hair like a halo floating in the gray world.

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

"Higher, what?" I asked.

"Higher, my lady. You'll not hit your mark at that angle."

"As you can see, the bull's eye is no longer my target."

Peeta tossed me that boyish smile. He advanced until the arrow grazed his chest. He raised his own bow. "Care for a challenge?"

Over and over, we fired at the marker, our arrows landing abreast of each other, and I felt rather smug. Until his arrow knocked into mine in mid-air, setting it off course. I huffed, tried the same trick, and failed.

"Moving targets are a different breed of skill, my lady. You'll get there," he said.

I threw down my weapon. "Don't patronize me."

My outburst surprised us both.

"There's no cause to make me feel weak," I added, unable to help myself.

"I wasn't, but that isn't the point. Your tantrum has nothing to do with sport," he said, breaking down my features and making me feel positively transparent. "What's wrong, my lady?"

My temper rose further. "My name is Katniss."

It hurt that he'd become so formal.

He took my hand, causing my balance to falter. "Come with me, Katniss."

It was impossible to argue, no matter how much I still wanted to. We took his horse and rode through the east gate, the remnants of the fog protecting us. I wrapped my arms around his middle and nestled my face between his shoulder blades. Peeta took us into the woods, then tethered the horse and guided me to a place I recognized. Our hunting spot by the lake.

"Ready for another lesson?" he asked.

Just like that, I forgot to be vexed. We tracked down a doe. However, it was so skittish that Peeta had to coach me to be patient. Catching a moment in which the animal paused, I lined up my shot, but then another obstacle emerged. In the form of a buck, who appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to mount the female. My jaw came unhinged. I couldn't possibly fell a creature in the midst of mating.

Peeta was equally startled. We glanced at each other, and then began to laugh. My hand covered my mouth, but keeping it in was futile and unnecessary. Peeta was the first to stop, his grin dissolving and smothering my own giggles.

A heartbeat. A gust of wind.

We dropped our bows at the same time and grabbed one another, our mouths connecting hungrily. He walked me backward, pressing me into a tree, the impact dislodging a moan from my throat. My fingers climbed up his neck and threaded into his hair, urging him closer.

The kiss exploded. His arm slipped around my waist while his free hand cupped my head, securing me against him. That moist, smooth, male tongue probed my mouth, and nothing had ever felt better than the pillowy touch of his lips.

It was Peeta who pulled back first. Panting, he kissed me again, this time more slowly, drawing his tongue across my bottom lip. He inched away and said, "I've been wanting to do that for so long."

"Why haven't you?" I breathed. "Why did you stop coming to me?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to stop, but I also didn't want to ruin it by getting ahead of myself. We're from different classes. The people may love us now, but you know even better than I what it can be like."

I understood. I was a Baron's daughter. Peeta had been born into poverty and was a criminal-turned-hero. Despite the liberation, the people hadn't disregarded the social rules ground into them. I had to admit, I'd considered that, too.

"I thought it best to be patient and get a sense of how others might treat us," Peeta said, toying with my braid. "I also didn't want to reveal that we favored one another so soon after the rebellion—people might question when we'd had time to grow close. They would question your time in the forest."

And thus question my reputation.

He finished, "I wasn't even sure if you really wanted…what I could offer. I thought I would give you time to decide."

Relief washed over me. Here, I'd thought Peeta still resented me, when really he'd been thinking of my well-being, my free will. Giving the kingdom time so that it wouldn't be surprised by our connection.

"It was never about me," he said. "I didn't want anyone shunning you, making it hard for you to be accepted. You have enough to suffer from. Many of the nobility aren't happy with me for stealing from them for so long. If they accept me, it's only through Heavensbee's influence. Any thing more than that will take time. But I don't care about myself—"

"I don't care about me, either," I said. "I don't care about that."

But I did care about something else. Something I dared not say.

The concern melted from him. "May I show you one more thing?"

He took me a little further into the forest, at one point covering my eyes and guiding me the rest of the way. Then he lifted his palms from my face. "Look up."

I tipped my head back and gasped. Tucked into the tangle of branches was a large tree house, with its own window and an iron-banded closure to blot out the wind. It hovered above Peeta's old camp. The fire pit. The outdoor oven.

He said from behind, "This is also why I've been busy. Finnick, Gale, and Thresh helped. Johanna, too. And some of the villagers." He sounded self-conscious. "I didn't know if you were going back to The Seam. But I thought you'd like to have a place by the lake, in case…"

It was beautiful. I didn't know what to say.

"Do you want to see inside?"

I nodded. Instead of a ladder, Peeta secured us onto a rope pulley, holding onto me as we flew into the tree. It made me laugh.

The tree house spanned one vast room, the ceiling high enough to stand in. The smell of freshly cut wood filled the space. A rug of fur was the only item decorating the space.

I opened the latch on the window closure and pulled, letting in the breeze. My finger trailed along the sill, over the rough edges until reaching a smooth corner. Peeta had built this place without knowing where I wished to remain. Yet another of his gestures of hope.

I didn't want to return to The Seam, nor Panem's palace.

"This is home." I turned, stared at the boy I'd once wanted nothing to do with, but who knew where I belonged. "Ask me to stay."

Surprise crossed his face, then softened it. He thought about something for so long that I wondered if I'd asked for too much, too soon.

"If it pleases you," he said.

What I hadn't expected was for him to sink to his knees, take my hands, and gaze at me so openly. "Katniss, will you have me? Will you have this forest?" He swallowed. "Will you marry us?"

My palm flattened against the wall, the surface warmed by the rising sun, free of cracks and splinters. Fear gripped me, swiftly replaced by something kinder, something precious. Lacking the skill for words, even for a yes, I lowered myself to his side, once again his equal.

kpkpkpkpkp

Plump, fleshy fruit swelled from the cornucopias gracing the banquet tables in the great hall. Candelabras winked. Jewel-hued tapestries hung from the ceiling. Heavensbee had outdone himself with color for the celebration. I did my part by spiriting a yellow satin gown, the brightest garment I'd worn since my father's death. My mood was correspondingly jubilant.

After Peeta had finished kissing me dizzy in the tree house, we'd decided to wait to reveal ourselves to people, hoping to ease into the announcement. Only Prim and his gang knew so far. Still, it would be difficult keeping my distance from Peeta during the festivities. This fact became clear once he walked into the hall. The court followed Heavensbee's lead, cooing over him and his friends. Finnick enjoyed being a showpiece. Thresh tolerated the attention. Gale took pride in their respect, but Johanna glared at any woman who came near him.

Peeta received the most regard, from females in particular. Even worse was his own behavior—he complimented and joked. He exhibited that rare talent for earning people's esteem with few words. No longer did I see that hardened, wounded boy from the forest. The charming, good-natured soul he'd kept hidden began to leak through. Unbeknownst to him, his attitude sparked a disturbing feminine frenzy. Wicked thoughts smeared their faces as he moved about the room. But then his eyes found me, his gaze caressing the folds of my gown from hem to neckline, and my jealously faded.

Breaking from the throng, Peeta approached me, and I had a mind to flirt.

"A room doesn't exist until you're in it," he said quietly. "And the gown is fair, too."

"Flattery," I said.

"Honesty," he corrected.

"Which one do you think I prefer more?"

He grinned, threatening my ability to pay heed to our surroundings. My Seam bracelet peeked from beneath his sleeve. I imagined promising myself to him. Soon.

In the far corner, Prim modeled her ice blue dress with glee for Johanna, who hated having to wear a gown but couldn't help being infected by my sister's enthusiasm. I wondered what sorts of things they were talking about. Along with Rue, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.

I couldn't say why, but the celebration felt too perfect. I hated myself for doubting and sought to squelch it fast.

"I wish I could take you somewhere," I whispered to Peeta, straightening my shoulders to give the impression of a regal conversation.

He reached behind me and plucked a pear from the cornucopia on the table. "And what would we do in this somewhere, Katniss?"

I fought the urge to swat at him. "Don't call me that here."

He bit into the pear, and I watched his mouth and throat work together. It could be so easy to get into trouble in public.

"There you are, you jolly bastard." Finnick sauntered up to us, his skin flush with as much drink as Sheriff Abernathy, who was already slurring in the corner.

We moved apart to admit our friend into our confidence.

"None of that." Finnick took the pear and finished it. "I'm not here for long. Heavensbee has some guests that have requested an audience with Peeta."

Groaning inconspicuously, Peeta excused himself, left me with one more smile, and then trailed Finnick. The king was engaged in buoyant conversation with a man...and a striking blond, around my age, dressed in a modest gown that identified her as one of the servants. Or perhaps a relation to a servant. Indeed, Peeta hadn't been able to sway His Majesty into inviting the villagers, for they'd been granted a party in the courtyard. But Peeta had convinced Heavensbee to allow members of the staff to enjoy the indoor festivities as much as possible, including the king's favorite servants stationed throughout his additional estates.

Watching the girl twiddle her thumbs nervously, possessiveness got the better of me. I moseyed toward where the king stood, planting myself near enough to shadow the conversation as Peeta and Finnick reached them.

"Ah, Mellark, my boy," Heavensbee thundered. "My humble guests would like an introduction. I do so love indulging my underlings, you know."

For a monarch, the older man needed a lesson in finesse.

Peeta turned at the same time the blond girl rose from a shaky curtsy. Her face tilted up and collided with his gaze. She smiled, radiant, like she'd just been introduced to the most magnificent sunrise.

"Peeta," she said.

I stiffened, marveling that she would address him so informally in a room full of people. Off to the side, one of the cooks brought out a roast pig and began sharpening his knife, the noise grating through my ears. Another person's cutlery clattered against their plate.

Peeta stood speechless. The girl forced a laugh. "Will you not take my hand? Have you forgotten me already?"

Absently, he took her fingers but continued to hold them mid-air. And I watched the muscles in his body tense, watched his profile go slack, watched him thumb the side of his jaw, a private habit that I'd grown fluent in, signaling shock.

"Delly," he whispered.


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