Chapter 2: The Future Dr. Hawthorne

Five weeks later, I am dragging both myself and a sloshed Haymitch onto the train platform back in District 12. Another loss, with two short cannon blasts at the Cornucopia – fairly predictable. Pocanne and Apratis were the third and fourth tributes to die in the Bloodbath, giving our district an atrocious 21st and 22nd place finish. I don't know why I keep up with the statistics – dead is dead.

Haymitch is dead to the world, and I can't very well drag him clear across the district and up the hill to the Village on foot. I decide to take advantage of my Victor benefits and hail the Mayor's car. His chauffeur is always on hand to drive either Haymitch or I anywhere we wish, whenever we wish, same as Mayor Undersee. It's one of the perks of being a Victor, as no one else in Twelve is allowed to own a car. Papa has told me that they used to have a delivery truck when he was a little boy, but it got impounded by the Capitol government.

Mayor Undersee's chauffeur lets Haymitch and me off at the Village gates. The first thing I notice when stepping onto the Village green is that my house is decorated to look like a party is going on. There is my daughter, racing out the front door and shrieking, "Mama! Mama!"

"Hi, baby!" I catch her, picking her up and cuddling her close. "What's all this, then?"

"It's for Auntie!"

"Auntie, you say?" I smile conspiratorially. "But it isn't Auntie's birthday!"

Primrose is on the front stoop, beaming at me, except it doesn't reach her eyes. She is rushing down the path to meet us, just as my daughter shrieks with excitement, like she's telling me a big secret: "Auntie Prim is getting married!"

My grey eyes expand as Primrose slows to a halt, still eyeing me fearfully. We sisters stare at each other for a moment, in the interim of which I can feel Haymitch taking Focaccia from me, to bounce her and murmur to her in low tones. I have to hand the man this much: sometimes, he knows just what I need. And he dotes on Peeta's and my daughter like she was his own grandbaby. That's probably because Snow and the Capitol murdered his girlfriend and real family long ago, as punishment for tricking his way to the Victors' Crown. Of course, it would be better if Haymitch tried not to be drunk around my daughter, but some things just can't be helped.

I don't even register my mentor and my little girl ambling up the street towards Haymitch's place as I continue to gawp at my little sister, who is biting her lip and lifting her eyes to me warily. "Married?" I whisper. "Married to who?"

Almost in answer, Rory Hawthorne comes bounding out of my house and onto the green. "Primmy! There you are!"

"Rory! Hello, darling!" And I watch as Prim and Rory lean in and share a light kiss on the lips. The kid brother of my hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, then turns to me with a buoyant, boyish grin. "Welcome back, Katniss!"

I'm pretty sure I'm still gawping, but don't very much care. "When the hell did this happen?"

Prim is biting her lip. "Right after the Reaping," she murmurs. "Rory got down on one knee. He had a ring saved up and everything."

So that's why she didn't come and say goodbye to me in my holding room. She was getting engaged, come to find out! I shouldn't be as surprised as I am. Many 18-year-old boys in Twelve propose to their sweethearts the moment their final Reaping is over; it's quite customary. In the hustle with my tributes and I being sent back into the Justice Building, I hadn't really noticed any of these mass proposals.

Or that my sister was apparently one of them…. and she accepted.

Hell, I didn't know she was seeing anyone, much less Rory Hawthorne. Though she and Rory have been best friends since they were small.

I find myself shaking my head. "You can't have a Toasting, Prim. You're too young – both of you."

To my shock, Prim frowns hard and places her hands on her hips. "I am not too young to be married, Katty – I'm eighteen years old. Rory and I are adults! Mother and Daddy married when they were nineteen!"

I can't really think of anything to say to that, even though I'm still fuming. Glancing between his… fiancée and his sister-in-law to be, Rory is biting his own lip now, yet his eyes still sparkle with hopefulness. "The rehearsal dinner just finished. We're going to the Justice Building to sign the license with the Clerk in the morning, then have our Toasting back here."

I glance between the couple. "And it never occurred to either one of you to send me a telegram to even let me know you were engaged? That this was happening, apparently tomorrow? What if the Games had dragged on even for another day? What if Haymitch and I hadn't been able to make it home from the Capitol in time?"

Prim is cringing hard now. "Katty, you know the mail system gets backlogged during Games season."

"Not by five weeks, it doesn't!"

"We didn't want to distract you or Haymitch from what you had to do!" Rory throws out. His excuse barely passes muster, though it's still little better. Haymitch and I were out of the running on the first day; he spent close to a month getting drunk while I was watching trashy Capitol soap operas, missing my daughter, and visiting with Annie Cresta (one of the mentors from Four and one of the few I can count as a friend) in their district's suite several floors down.

I eye Rory hard, and then beckon him towards me. "May I talk with you for a moment, please? Alone?"

Prim starts to object. "No! Whatever you have to say, you can say to both of us!" She starts reaching for Rory's hand, but I ignore my sister completely, tugging Rory towards me and we steal into a darkened alcove of one of the empty mansions. I keep an eye on Primrose, who doesn't try and follow, but from the light of the streetlamps, I can tell she is fuming.

I turn to face Rory sharply. He's gotten taller, taller than his brother, in these last couple of years. He had a ridiculous growth spurt at fifteen that left him sprouting out of his clothes faster than his mother, Hazelle, could purchase them second-hand in the Hob.

"Do you really love her?"

He nods earnestly. "I really do, Katty. Prim's…. the best thing in my life. She's going to be an amazing Healer one day."

"Why now? Why not wait a few years?"

"We've thought it through. I start in the mines once school goes back the week after next, and…. I'm a little scared." He's turned a little pale, and I actually take pity on him, smiling softly.

"There hasn't been a mine collapse the last three seasons, Rory, and certainly not any as bad as the one when our dads died."

"I just don't want to live with regret! If I'm going down there, I want to know I'm doing it for someone other than just myself. I intend to work my way up. Between my wages and the coin and sesterces Prim will get from treating Peacekeepers and the odd Merchant, we'll be able to provide for each other. I intend to do right by her!"

I can't help but let my smile broaden. "Spoken like a man." After a long moment, I nod. "All right, Rory. You have my permission, and my blessing. But: if you hurt her…"

"You'll kill me," Rory actually smirks at this. "But Victor or not, you'll have to get in line, behind Gale. He threatened the same thing."

My heart swells in gratitude at the thought of my best friend. "Good." We stroll back to where Prim is waiting for us, anxiously. She sends a glare my way, and I feel a brief pang for doubting her and Rory. "Relax, Little Duck. I have no doubt you'll make a beautiful bride."

Her cerulean eyes – lighter than Peeta's or her niece's – expand at this, and then she is squealing and leaping into my arms.

The next morning, sequestered upstairs in her room in our mansion, I feel my eyes welling up every other minute as Mother finishes tucking in the hem of the family wedding dress. Our one heirloom. Mother stole it and fled with it when she ran off to elope with Daddy. It's apparently traditional for Merchant mothers to pass their bridal gown down to their daughters, if any.

My baby sister looks immaculate as she swishes this way and that, checking herself out in the mirror. Focaccia is prancing at her feet, telling her Auntie she looks beautiful.

Mother stands back and glances into the mirror over her baby's shoulder, looking a little teary herself. "Now, you look as beautiful as I did."

"I wish I looked like you," I mumbled.

Prim whirls to me in shock. "Oh, goodness, no…. I wish I looked like you, Katty girl."

I smirk. "You don't need too." I choke up. "My Little Duck has become quite the swan…" Sobbing a little, my sister and I embrace.

There's a knock on the door, and Haymitch pokes his head in. "Is she ready?"

Mother grins at him. "She is, Haymitch."

Taking my sister in, Haymitch looks gobsmacked. He bullshits his way past what might be a sniffle before mumbling. "You look beautiful, Little One." Prim beams wetly.

We proceed downstairs and exit the mansion. Out on the green, I pull up short when I realize:

"Gale? What are you doing here?"

Hands stuffed in his pockets, my hunting partner shrugs. "Found myself short of a date at the last minute, Catnip. Want to be my plus one?"

I frown prissily, shifting Focaccia to my other hip. Mother leans in to me and whispers:

"I'll watch Focaccia if you need a rest."

I nod absently, marching forward and letting Gale take my free arm. "Yes, all right, then. Let's go." And we march out of the Village, Mother behind us and Prim on Haymitch's arm. My mentor will be escorting her to the Justice Building in place of our father, but it's been arranged that both Haymitch and I will give Prim away once we are in inside the district clerk's office.

We arrive at Clerk Rosen's chambers to find Rory and the other Hawthornes already there. My hunting partner's little brother has eyes only for my sister, and Prim radiantly beams as she practically drags Haymitch and me up the aisle towards her future.

"Primrose Cyan Everdeen, do you take this man, Rory Gerald Hawthorne, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Prim bubbles.

"Sign here, please." My sister dutifully signs her name on the marriage license.

"Rory Gerald Hawthorne, do you take this woman, Primrose Cyan Everdeen, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." Rory is solemn and beyond doubt.

"Sign here, please." Rory signs. "If there is anyone present who does not think this couple should be wed, let them by the State stand up and object!" No one does. Not 24 hours ago, I might have, out of protectiveness, but now… if this is what Prim wants to be happy, who am I to dent her? "By the power vested in me as the District Twelve Justice of the Peace, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Lifting her veil, Rory leans in and kisses Prim tenderly. She joyously leaps into his arms and kisses him back as we all burst into applause. Gale lets out a country whoop, and I whack him on the arm.

The one thing that makes me beclempt, even more than the knowledge that my baby sister is now married, is when Clerk Rose hands them the deed to their new home in the Seam. Prim will have to move out of Victors' Village, now that she has a husband.

The newly christened Hawthornes practically skip from the Justice Building, arm in arm and smiling into each other's eyes as we, the well wishers, follow.

Prim and Rory's Toasting is held in our mansion in the Victors' Village. Over the massive, roaring hearth, Rory Toasts a bit of bread and shares it with his new bride. Tesserae loaves, I note.

"I could have gotten real bread from the Baker!" I bemoan.

In the firelight, Gale's face looks almost ghoulish when briefly twisted into a sneer. "What for?" I frown hard, bristling. I know Gale doesn't trust most Merchants, but I at least thought that, when it came to the relatives of my daughter….

Prim and Rory now exchange rings and vows.

"My sweet, adorable Prim, with this ring, I thee wed."

Prim is blushing and luminous as she slips Rory's wedding band on his finger. "My dearest Rory, with this ring, I thee wed."

They then share the tesserae loaves before leaning in to kiss the crumbs off each other's lips. We burst into applause again, and Isaiah Cartwright, Delly's dad, strikes up a tune on his fiddle as the newlyweds share their first dance.

"Dance a spell with me, Catnip?" Gale suddenly asks me, leaving me taken aback.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly… I have to find Focaccia…"

"Old Abernathy has her. Come on, kick your feet up for a spell!" And pulling me into his arms, Gale spins me around and around the room so that the hem of my blue Reaping dress swishes at my ankles. I am flushing, feeling conspicuous, but before long, I am actually smiling.

Before long, a slower song picks up and Gale and I have fallen into an awkward shuffle that I nonetheless feel quite comfortable with.

"So…." I draw out. "I guess this makes us related by marriage."

Gale shrugs, though he's grinning from ear-to-ear. "Distantly. My mother is just thrilled that at least one of her kids is hitched."

"Hmm," I purr. "I'm surprised Rory beat you to the hearth." A slight pause, and then I float hesitantly, genuinely curious. "Why didn't you ever get married?"

His look is smoldering and far too knowing. "You know why."

We finish the song and our stilted waltz, after which I gently beg off and go to find my daughter. Predictably, I find her in her Grandpa Haymitch's lap, tugging on the blond scruff of his incoming beard while the old man sips conservatively from the Capitol wine in his flute.

I fondly smile. Some things don't have to change.