Hi Everyone! Thanks so much for your continued support of this story... You guys are the best!
I am so sorry this took forever to update, and that the chapter is short, but I hope you like it nonetheless, and I am already working on the next chapter so I hope to have it for you all soon!
Speaking of historical AU's Please check out "A Favorable Wind" by Court81981... Its an amazing story filled with suspense, intrigue and sexy Sailor!Peeta... Hello!
A special thank you to Katnissinme, Pookieh and Court81981 for their invaluable Beta-aid with this story...
Enjoy!
I awake to the sensation of not being able to breathe. My eyes fly open as I begin coughing and gasping for air. The position we fell asleep in was much different from how we presently lay. I am lying on my back while Katniss has curled up at my side. My right hand rests on the small of her back and her arm drapes over my chest. Her head lays a breath away from the crook of my neck, her hair splayed every which way. Some rests at the opening of my mouth and nose, tickling my nostrils and I realize this is probably what was smothering me just moments before.
Between my coughing and slight shifting to gather my bearings, I feel Katniss begin to stir beside me. She pulls her hand back from my chest, pushing the heel of it to each of her eyes. Her head slowly turns until her chin rests upon me. Her eyes are still foggy with sleep, hair covers half of her face, and a lazy smile plays at her mouth.
"Hi," she whispers.
"Hi." My heart swells as my eyes take her in.
My fiancée is beautiful.
Fiancée!
Dread suddenly bubbles up within me. I can't help but agonize over the possibility that last night was just a cruel dream or that a sober Katniss will think better of her late-night proposition. I just barely steady my heart and brace myself for disappointment.
"You want to marry me? Real or not real?" I know my eyes are pleading with her for the answer to be real because as she studies them for a moment, I can see my own emotions reflected in hers. She pushes herself up,her face closing in on mine. Her grays never leave my blues and just before I feel the gentle touch of her lips against mine, she utters a single word.
"Real."
After a few heated moments of feeling her soft lips pressed against mine, I pull away. My head crashes onto the pillow behind me before releasing the breath I had been holding this whole time. I shut my eyes and smile with relief. Katniss giggles breathlessly at my dramatic display before smacking me gently on the chest. My eyes fly open and I smirk at her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her mouth towards mine to capture her in a kiss once again.
The kiss deepens and intensifies seemingly without our help. I know this kiss was meant to go so much further, but the rattling of the knob as the bedroom door opens springs us apart.
"Oh my... umm , sir, miss I am... my apologies... I...I didn't know..." The stammering maid, a young girl with blonde hair, looks uncertain of what to do as she stands before us holding a water basin with a few washcloths draped over her arm. Her head is down, but I can still see the blush that floods her face.
A red-faced Katniss practically falls off the bed in her attempts to distance herself from me. She shields her eyes with her hand in embarrassment. I lean towards her and whisper for her ears only.
"I will meet you downstairs. I love you."
I am rewarded with an ever-so-slight smile and an eye that peers through her barely-separated fingers. I smile warmly before getting up and collecting my clothing. I head towards the door behind the maid, not wanting to draw attention to the door that separates our bedrooms.
"I am sorry again, sir." Her head is still bowed, and she gives a slight curtsy.
"It is I who should be sorry. It was not my intention to scare you." I turn once more to gaze back at Katniss. This time, she is looking at me. Her hand no longer covering her face. I mouth the words, "You are beautiful" before exiting the room.
I arrive downstairs before Katniss. When I walk into the sitting room ,I find the person I am most eager to speak to. Finnick sits with his head in his hands, his fingers clawing at his dishevelled copper hair. When he finally looks up at me, he is a complete disaster, obviously a side effect of last night. His eyes are bloodshot and outlined by dark, plump circles. His jaw drops when he sees me, and he stands.
"Peet," he begins, his hands rising defensively. "I am so sorry. I was drunk and stupid. I didn't mean to..." He trails off as I approach him. He flinches when my hands rise towards his face. I assume he thinks I mean to hit him, but instead I grab him by his cheeks and plant a firm kiss on his forehead. When I pull away, Finnick looks at me in complete confusion. He begins to speak again, but I lift my hand once more in hopes of silencing him.
"She wants to marry me, Finn." I can't suppress the smile that takes over my face.
"What!?" Finnick exclaims, slapping his hands on my shoulders. I simply nod, and he howls his excitement. "Well, when's the wedding?" Finnick asks as he jumps up and down.
"I have to speak to her cousin and mother first, but soon, very soon I hope."
"Woo-hoo!" Finnick hollers again. He grabs me in a strong embrace as he begins to spin us. "My Peety is getting married!" The man is acting like a fool, but I can't help but grow giddy at his words.
I am going to marry Katniss Everdeen, the most beautiful woman in the world, the love of my life.
I find myself jumping up and down with him as we spin. We only manage to stop our juvenile display when someone clears her throat behind us.
Standing in the doorway is Annie holding Sebastian and Katniss is by her side. Sebastian giggles in our direction. Annie shakes her head in mock disgust while Katniss bites down on her thumb, trying to keep from laughing. When I catch her eye, though, she smiles.
I have never been happier.
Breakfast is pleasantly upbeat. The heavy serving of eggs and sausage does wonders for the alcohol-induced headache caused by the night before. After the five of us finish eating, we move outside. It's a glorious June day. Sebastian rolls and crawls in the grass while the rest of us watch. I inform everyone that I have a meeting to attend this afternoon, reminding everyone (but mostly myself) that this visit isn't completely for pleasure.
"Where is your meeting?" Katniss asks from her position on the ground with Sebastian and Annie
"A tavern on South Main Street. Supposedly the food is incredible."
"Ahh, Joseph Bucklin's place. Less of a tavern and more of what the French call a restaurant. My father and I have been there a few times. Bucklin's a good man, but he's a Patriot through and through. Sometimes he can get a little... overzealous." The word is meant to carry much more meaning to it. I catch Katniss's worried stare.
"It will be fine," I try to reassure her, reaching over to take her hand in mine. "It's just a planning meeting." Planning for what, though, I am not sure. According to the information I received from Haymitch, the HMS Gaspee, a British customs schooner, has been strictly enforcing very unpopular trade regulations in Providence Harbor. The Sons of Liberty wish to put a stop to this ship. I am just not sure how they expect to accomplish this.
After planting a chaste kiss on Katniss's forehead, tickling the belly of Sebastian and waving good-bye to Annie and Finnick, I hop into the waiting carriage and head to the political meeting downtown.
The long, single-storey building is brown in color and quite drab. I walk through the main entrance. The dimly-lit room has a scattering of circular wooden tables and chairs. A few men are seated around some of the tables; some are smoking and drinking, some are engaged in conversation. Some eat. A few men glance up at me when I stride in through the door. Only a couple look curious.
"Can I help you?" The question comes from a middle-aged man with greying black hair pulled back into a ponytail.
"My name is Peeta Mellark, Sir, I'm here for..." He quickly cuts me off.
"Ah Mr. Mellark, you're Haymitch's man. Welcome. We are glad you made it." He raises his hand out to me. "The name is Joseph Bucklin and this is my place." I take his hand in mine and give it a firm shake.
"Nice to meet you, Sir." I make sure to keep in mind the warning that Finnick gave about this man.
"Let's go sit with everyone else. Meeting's about to start." He places a hand on my upper back and guides me further into the room. Most of the men have already gathered at a cluster of tables off to the side. Joseph introduces me to the group. A few of the men raise their glasses to me murmuring a quick hello, the others stay quiet.
The meeting starts and just as Haymitch described in the paperwork given to me before I left Boston, the Sons of Liberty are looking to make an example out of the HMS Gaspee. A man introduced to me as Abraham Whipple talked about the endgame, which would be to board the ship and set it ablaze in the harbor. The problem they are running into is basically how to capture said ship. Most ideas presented thus far would be too flashy or could quite possibly carry a few Sons' fatalities.
I begin to look over the maps sprawled on the table in front of me. One of them is of the shoreline of Warwick, Rhode Island. A specific part called Namquid Point appears to have a very shallow low tide. This gives me an idea.
"Could we coax the Gaspee to Warwick?" The argumentative tones around me cease at my question.
A man by the name of John Brown pipes up "What are you getting at?" His eyes are narrowed in my direction.
"What I mean." I state as I meet John Brown's stare., "is that if we can get the Gaspee to Namquid Point in Warwick, we may be able to ground the ship during low tide."
"And how are we supposed to accomplish that?" A man who I think was named Arthur stands in the back with a cup of liquor in his hand. I contemplate his question. How do you ground a ship... a chase?
"Could we get the Gaspee to chase another boat?" The murmuring grows louder around me.
"It would have to be a fast ship." one man calls out.
"Maybe a packet sloop would work," yells another.
"I bet Benjamin Lindsey would help out. He captains the Hannah," yet another voice booms.
By the end of the meeting we have decided that a packet sloop would work best and that if we can make the Gaspee believe that the sloop is smuggling we might be able to pull this off. The men are no longer looking at me with cautionary glares, but now they are instead patting me on the back, their excitement over the new plan is palpable.
Both John Brown and Abraham Whipple are to make the necessary arrangements. Those who wish to participate in the actual event are asked to sign their name on a piece of parchment by the door. These men will receive word no more than twelve hours and no less than four hours before they are needed.
The crowd begins to break apart; some men sign their name and leave while others linger, asking further questions of the ones in charge. I stand back by myself, watching the dynamic of the room. Suddenly I catch the eye of Joseph Bucklin. He has a wide smile on his face and a slightly crazed look in his eye. He rapidly approaches me and drapes an arm over my shoulders, when he gets close enough.
"You are every bit the genius Haymitch claimed you to be." He says as he taps his finger to his temple, the overly large smile still prominent on his face.
"I'm just glad I could help."
He chuckles at me in response. "Well that you did! Just make sure you have dark clothing for when this all goes down."
"Sir?" I furrow my eyes in confusion, not entirely sure what he's getting at.
"When we take the Gaspee, it will most likely be at night. Less harbor traffic that way. So you should make sure to have dark clothing ready for that night." I nod, letting the words sink in. He must notice my hesitation. He grasps my shoulder tightly.
"You came up with the plan, Mr. Mellark, so I'm assuming you would want to see it through." His smile gives me a foreboding feeling.
"I... suppose so," I manage to get out. His face softens.
"Good."
He leads me over to the parchment with the volunteers' names on it. He picks up the quill and quickly scratches down his own name before handing the dripping quill to me. I stare at the parchment hesitantly before putting the tip right under his signature, I scrawl the two words I know are going to get me into trouble when I get back to Finnick and Annie's:
Peeta Mellark
I let the quill linger on the end of the 'k' a second too long, lost in thought as to how I am going to explain to Katniss that I will be participating in anarchy. Joseph clears his throat, pulling me from my troubled thoughts.
"So Mr. Mellark, what are your plans for the rest of this beautiful day?" I raise my eyes to meet his, hoping that I haven't just made the worst possible decision of my life. I take a deep breath before I ask.
"Could you point me in the direction of a reputable jeweler?"
I think Peeta may be in trouble, but I kind of miss angry Katniss, and I think it's about time we got Patriot!Peeta's hands dirty ;)
Fun Facts:
A packet sloop is a mail ship.
Historians debate as to whether the Gaspee Affair was a planned attack, or if things just fell into the right place at the right time... But I think we can pretty much determine now that not only was the Gaspee Affair premeditated but that it was the brainchild of Peeta Mellark!
Up next: Anarchy, 18th century terrorism, and a possibly pissed off Katniss Everdeen...
Thanks for reading