A/n: At long last, here's the end of the road for this time. Final chapter, a sort of epilogue to finally give our favourite two their happy ever after, just like I promised from the start :) I have enjoyed writing this so much, as it is very close to my heart. I mean, the Swedish tourist board should give me money for writing it! The song is real (if only badly translated!), the weird tradition at the end is real (!), but unfortunately, the characters are still fictional (I wish!)...
A great big thanks to everyone and anyone who have been reading, and especially to those of you who have faithfully reviewed each chapter! You have a special place in my heart :) One more time with a feeling?
(Oh, and if you're not sick of me yet, I have another story going these days...)
Xxx
Three days later, we set out again, leaving behind the familiar and yet so estranged place where we grew up, replacing it with the only real home either of us knows any more. Once more, we're running away from everything that we will eventually have to face, but in a another very real way, we're running towards something; peace of mind, a chance at happiness, the rest of our lives. The only thing that matters is that we're together, and all the details will eventually fall into place.
Right now, I can't stand walking the streets of Twelve, where I am constantly reminded wherever I go of my past failures, of the cowardice in me that lead to so much death, and to a pile of ashes where before there was life. Prim has tried to convince me that life will soon again sprout in the midst of it, trying her best to make me see it has already begun, much like Peeta did that day not so long ago, but all I can see is still the ruins of the past. I'm just not ready yet, but according to my mother, one day I'll be. Until then, I'm better off leaving the place.
Where we'd go was never much of a question, since the only place I know where Gale and I can both be at ease is the last place we have positive memories to yearn back to. The lake house is not much of a home in its present state, but with a little time and effort, we'll make it work. Frankly, all we have is time, and bodies in need of occupation to keep our minds from spiralling into dark places. And it's summer yet; the light season has only just begun, just in time to guide our way back to health and better times, so figuratively speaking, the future looks bright.
My feet are lighter than I can remember experiencing in a long time as they walk the familiar path away from the district fence, padding the soft forest floor of pine needles and grass soundlessly. Not even the oversized pack hanging from my shoulders feels as heavy as it should, considering the huge amount of things that are in it. Between the two of us, we have enough supplies to make life in the woods somewhat confortable, but settling in will still take long hours of work every day, and we'll have to return every once in a while to town, to stack up on thing we can't hunt or make ourselves.
From Gale's mother, we have a small bag of seeds to start a little vegetable patch, while mine has made sure we have the essential medical supplies, in case of an accident. I believe it's their own way to set us free and protect us, all at once. Overall, I'm a little surprised by how easily they've accepted this new form that our relationship has taken, neither of them even raising an eyebrow at how openly different we're acting around each other. Whether they like it or not, we're dead tired of pretending after all those past years of enforced cousinship, and they're sort of getting the uncensored version, where any second not spent in physical contact is a wasted one as far as we're concerned. Well, not quite uncensored - what goes on when it's just the two of us alone is nothing for anyone else to see. I look over to Gale, thinking that once we reach the cabin, no form of self-control in that department will be necessary anymore. Besides, it much too warm for that thick shirt he's currently wearing, as the afternoon sun is blazing down on our backs. My mind wanders places only recently discovered, and far from fully discovered in the little time we've had alone in the last couple of days. Suddenly, I can't wait for the walk through the forest to be over, no matter how much I usually enjoy it.
Gale senses my heavy gaze, and turns his head down to the side, meeting it with glittering, light grey eyes. He sees me biting my lower lip slightly, reads my mood quicker than possible, and grins slyly at this.
"See something you like, Catnip?" he teases me, heaving his backpack higher on his broad shoulders. Catching sight of my rosy-tinted cheeks, his grin widens.
I retort to my one form of fool-proof protection; sarcasm. "Oh, you know, fairies and trolls - the usual mentally challenged stuff."
Gale frowns a small bit, still not quite comfortable with jokes about my less-than-healthy mental state, even if it's quickly become a lot better in the last couple of days. In the presence of a chosen few loved ones, and with the constant food that my mother has made me stuff down over the weekend, I'm beginning to make the transition back from ghost to human. Last night when he climbed into bed beside me, Gale had run an experimental finger down the length of my side, from my cheek to my knee, his eyes following it closely over almost naked skin.
"You're not as pale anymore," he had mumbled, his eyes bottomless when they connected with my questioning ones. "And softer. I like it." His hesitant smile and whispered words were proof enough that even the smallest of confessions are still difficult between us, words endlessly more complicated than action.
However, I'm still not sure what to make of it. So he wants soft and curvaceous, huh? Unfortunately, that's not me. Never has been, either – an upbringing in the Seam will make sure of that. On the other hand, Gale is all wire and lean muscle, too, but on him it's most definitely flattering. Suddenly, I'm worried I look like a little girl to him, despite having never worried about my appearance ever before in my whole life.
"Hmm, which one am I, in that case?" His voice brings me back from my insecure inner musings, but I'm still a little too distracted to come up with a good answer. I've got to get out of this fairy land-routine of lately, anyway. Instead I just wiggle an eyebrow suggestively.
"Nah, neither. But if you insist, you could come over here and prove to me you're real, again?"
Gale laughs, and I'm a little more focused on the now just by hearing it. If I have a say, I'll make him repeat that sound every day from now on.
"Oh maybe I will… Laters, pixie queen." Gale speeds up his steps, clearly playing hard to get to my great annoyance.
"Alright then, ogre it is…" I mutter, setting off to catch up with his tall frame.
This morning, I had woken up to an eerily silent house, the only sound being Gale's light snores and the faint buzzing from the water boiler in my bathroom. My mother and Prim had gone back to District 4 the night before, and the home we originally shared had felt emptier than ever after that. For their last evening of visiting, I had reluctantly agreed to go to town with them, let my mother buy us all food from the market and lead me to the meadow beside the site where our old house had stood. We sat in the tall grass together, letting the sun colour our skin and the hours pass by without any regard to time.
Prim had been lying down with her blond head in my lap, talking of little silly nothings while twining flowers between her nimble fingers, making me promise over and over again to come back every once in a while to give her a call.
"If you don't, I'll worry, and then just so you know, I'll go out there searching for you. And you had better not let it come to that, because you know I'll get lost."
I had smiled down at her mock-serious, upside-down face, where freckles were steadily forming almost before my eyes, and I had lifted an eyebrow, trying not to smile.
"Perhaps you could bring Rory along," I had commented, unable to hold back a teasing grin. "I'm sure he'd love to get lost in the woods with you."
Sometimes, Prim and I are not so different after all. Just like I surely would have, she had blushed bright red, and swatted my leg in irritation.
"Shut up!"
"Primrose! Language!"
We had both tensed in surprise at our mother's voice, reprimanding in a most uncharacteristic way. However, the suppressed smirk on her face looked too much like my own to be a coincidence, and who would have thought: there's a sardonic side to her as well. In the sunshine, it suddenly hadn't mattered that my hair is dark while theirs is the colour of straw, that my eyes mark me as my father's daughter while theirs are as bright blue as the sky; because I knew then that I belong with them, and that knowledge binds me tighter to this earth than any mental cure or medicine ever could. In the last hours of sunlight, Prim had crowned me in a circlet of flowers, and officially declared me welcome back to life.
Now they're halfway across the whole of Panem again, but it doesn't matter so much as long as I know I'll see them again, as soon as I wish. Peeta had gone back home this morning, too, muttering something about harvests to take in, but I secretly wonder if there isn't a bit more behind it. Two nights ago, I had gone over to hand him some leftover dinner from my mother, and entered his house without knocking only to stop short at the sound of his voice speaking on the phone. Too curious to move or let my presence be known, I had listened with sharp ears, heard him finish a call in a voice softer than usual.
"Alright, I'll see you soon. Yeah… Miss you too."
If I had any less shame in my body, I would have barged right in and demanded misses who? to satisfy my interest. As it was, I never got around to find the courage to ask. Whoever it was though, I couldn't be more relieved.
As for Gale's family, we had seen them off after lunch in the doorway to their wonderful little house, which has finally been painted bright yellow all over after some hard work on his part over the weekend. I couldn't imagine a better place for little Posy to grow up than in the grassy playground underneath that apple tree, sheltered from the cruelty of the world forever.
I tread into the depths of the woods, thinking of all the people we leave behind, and I can't help but wonder what the future hold for them, for us, in this strange new world. Its endless possibilities scare me to death, at the same time that they spark up a brilliant light inside my chest. In the life before, I was the girl on fire, the Mockingjay, and finally, I ceased to exist in this world, until my best friend fought his way through the thorny wastelands of my soul to get back to me.
And now, who am I now?
All that comes to my mind at that thought, is the melody of a song. Prim had made me sing it in the meadow, pointed out two little birds in a tree close by.
"Look, Katniss, sing it to them, please?"
Mockingjays. I could easily hate them for the memories they bring back, but instead, I had found myself calmed by their curious twittering. I can see them high above in the tree crowns now, their wings fluttering in the sun. And faintly, as if in a dream, I hear them repeating stray notes of my song from days before, distorted by their quipped little beaks, but still recognisable as tones I learned long, long ago from my father, the magician of melodies.
Out in the garden, where blue berries grow
My heart's content
If you come looking, that's where I shall be
Of lilies and columbine, of roses and woodbine
The sweet scent of lilac
Come heart's content
As I walk, heedless of anything but the greenery around, my path is lined with more and more little birds, listening silently to the clear tones of a song as old as the trees beneath their claws. When I fall silent, nothing is audible but the soft whooshing of the leaves around us, until, one by one in a disorganized cacophony, the song is picked up again above my head.
I feel a grin split my face, brought back in time to memories that are no longer so painful, and find Gale watching me, smiling too. I had almost forgotten he was here. Without a word, he takes hold of my hand, draws closer to me and gently presses his lips to my temple. The song trails after us all the way to the cabin, sung over and over again as I can't resist repeating it to my attentive audience each time they get confused by each other.
Fairy queen, indeed, I think, just before we step out of the treeline, finally there. I let my backpack fall to the ground with a loud thud, rolling my shoulders, which have gone stiff from the weight. The lake is bluer than memory can do justice, and the meadow spreading out before it looks like true heaven, after almost a week spend in the greyness of Twelve. I feel light, free as the birds, which are currently soaring high above the water in a dizzying formation, as high as I imagine my spirit is rising after a lifetime in tight confinement.
The sun is well past noon at this stage, filtering through the leaves on top of the tallest trees with beautiful, pale orange light. I squint, and watch its rays illuminate the strong lines of Gale's features, turn his eyes into liquid bronze. It's enough to make me breathe in a long gulp of fresh forest air, and I can smell the upcoming evening, taste a cold night coming on my tongue. The sky is distinctly cloudless.
"Tonight is midsummer," I remark absently. "If you pick seven different flowers, and put them under your pillow, you'll see the girl you're meant to marry in your dreams."
Gale smiles teasingly at me, but his eyes are warm.
"I don't need flowers for that. Or dreams for that matter," he grins, scooping an arm around my waist to twirl me against his chest. I laugh freely, because the implication behind his word is no longer strange to me. Married? Who knows - it's not exactly my top priority. To me, it's little more than an empty formality. But what it really means is spending our whole lives together, sharing our days in good times and in bad, and that I know I want. It's not a question, but just a fact, as plain as it is crucial. Gale and I, together. A team, best friends, but also so much more.
My chuckles are cut off promptly by his full lips, by now so familiar against mine, yet I'm still amazed every time. I could become undone by them right here and now, but he pulls back responsibly shortly after, still grinning down at me.
"But who knows, maybe a dream will set us straight?" He's teasing now, and I smack his arm lightly, making a face. It's almost a familiar pattern, a ghost of our old selves, but it disappears quickly as he leans down to kiss my pout away. I don't miss those kids from before.
Gale may be teasing me over the bit of folklore I shared with him, but that night, after we have cleaned up and settled our few belongings in the small cabin, and he returns from the snare run he insisted on going on alone, it's with a handful of wild forest flowers and a sheepish look on his face. He holds them out to me - red clover and buttercups, forget-me-nots and wood anemone. In the middle, there's even a white orchid that he's stumbled upon, or maybe searched meticulously for. There are exactly seven different kinds, forming a colourful bouquet that smells like summer and like home. My mouth forms a perfect o in delight when I take them from him, before I regain my normal composed self and squint up on him with a smirk.
"Uncertain of our choices, are we?" I ask, with apparent laughter in my voice.
He gives me a small, wry smile in response.
"Never. Maybe I wanted you to dream of only me," he grins then, his usual self-assured persona showing. But I know there's more to those words, a hidden wish to take all my nightmares away and replace them with only love and light. My heart swells, and I can just feel my eyes go exactly as soft and gushy – uncharacteristic - as his are right now.
"I don't need flowers for that, either," I say quietly, burying my noses in the scent of the blooming life in my hands. This novel side to our old companionship will take a lot getting used to, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world - if only I could stop myself from blushing every other second, that is. The presence of this man, who I once knew better than any one else, does strange things to my body now that I've let him in even further. I think that I may just want to spend a long, long time getting to know us again, in this new way where no boundaries exist between us at all. We have all the time in the world, and boundless space here in the woods, so really, nothing should stop us.
The seven kinds of flowers end up under my pillow eventually, anyway. I don't know how I could possibly dream of anything besides Gale, considering the way he just made my body sing with his own, and the way I'm pressed so close to him that I'm not sure where I end and he begins. But just in case, it's nice to know I'm protected, the ancient magic of tales guarding me from the demons haunting my sleep.
Once upon a time, there was a young girl and a boy; too proud for their own good, brought together by fate in the woods with a past they would rather forget, and no future ahead of them. With odds that were never in their favour, fate would have them separate, grow cold in the cruel clutches of stolen decisions, and then torn worlds apart by love and war.
By the tips of their fingers, they both escaped the eternal darkness of death, but they know now better than most, that life is not a fairy tale. It does not come with a guaranteed happy ending, but as it turns out, they have been given one anyway. Or at least, it is a chance to a happy ever after - a chance that they will grasp and hold onto harder than they've ever fought to stay alive before. Because the difference between staying alive and falling in love is not so evident, in their case, while at the same time, it's two worlds apart- one as strenuous as the other is effortless. So for once, they can let themselves fall, tumble down an unknown path into a hazy, shapeless future, knowing without a doubt that wherever they end up, the choice is theirs alone, and not in the hands of unforeseen chance.
