Chapter 3: The Future Mrs. Hawthorne

The weeks pass, ferrying us deeper and deeper into autumn, and I find myself missing my sister as she and Rory settle into married life in the Seam.

The new Mr. and Dr. Hawthorne (Prim will soon be licensed to be a Healer, having studied at our mother's knee since she was little) have a lovely small abode, just a stone's throw from the dividing line separating the Seam from Town. On foot from Victors' Village, it's only about a mile and a half away and close to ten minutes. I know. I timed it.

Gale would probably laugh at me, if I told him any of this. He's been beyond the Reaping for six years now, and is looking very much a man at the prime age of 24. He is the oldest of four children in the prominent Hawthorne brood. Works in the mines every day except for Sundays. It's a fine profession - well, almost one of the only professions available to a man in this district - but I know his widowed mother, Hazelle, won't be satisfied. She will be looking for her eldest son to further secure his future. And having seen the looks girls send his way, I know there are plenty of takers.

I won't be among them in line though. Now with my future guaranteed ahead of me, I have only become more resolved in my vow to die unmarried and childless. I don't know what trade I will learn to support myself when I'm not mentoring the Games, which is more of a summer job than anything else. Probably hunting, as I have always done. I can make that into a life, right? Mother might disagree, but I don't care.

This bright fall day is slightly cooler than the scorchers we saw in the days before the Reaping. It is as if the earth itself has deflated in relief along with me. The nice air brings out more animals from the longer, summer shadows, and Gale and I make a great haul and in even better time.

We are on final approach to the district fence now, chatting about preparations for next week's hunt. "I'll set the snares for next Sunday, Gale, and then we can -"

It comes out of nowhere, as Gale suddenly stops me and cuts off my ramblings, as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me.

I am completely unprepared. You would think that after all the hours I have spent with Gale - watching him talk and laugh and frown – after that kiss we shared just before my first Victory Tour more than five years ago, that I would know all there was to know about his lips. But I haven't imagined how warm they would feel pressed against my own. Or how those hands, which can set the most intricate of snares - can as easily entrap me.

"Ermmmm..." I think I make some sort of noise in the back of my throat, and I am vaguely aware of my fingers, curled tightly closed, resting on his chest. Then, after pushing his lips more insistently against mine, Gale just as suddenly lets me go and says:

"Catnip, will you marry me?"

Even though this is the second time he's asked me for my hand in marriage, my flushed, ravished and very kissed lips drop open in an astonished 'O.' A proposal of marriage still sounds so foreign, coming from my best friend Gale. Not to mention the way he says it just sounds all wrong. If I have ever given thought to how some boy might ask me to marry him, I suppose I have imagined him getting down on one knee. Presenting a ring, or some other promise token. And definitely asking me for my hand with my full name - Katniss Magenta Everdeen - and not some childish nickname with an even more childish origin story (Catnip came about from Gale interpreting my introduction incorrectly, the day we first met).

All that aside, he just kissed me out of the blue. My second kiss, drawn from my mouth with no warning. I unconsciously lick my lips, and try to decide how I feel about the kiss, whether I liked it or resented it.

"No... Gale..."

Gale raises a finger to silence me as he moves closer.

"Gale... don't..."

Too late. Gale's arm slides about my neck as he bends down and kisses me passionately again on the lips. I feel his other arm slip about my waist, pulling me flush against his body. My palm rests flat against his chest as I confusedly whimper into his mouth. I don't reciprocate the kiss, but I can't find the strength to push him away either. Finally, with a POP!, our lips are wrenched apart. I gasp to intake air.

"Gale... we have to talk about this reasonably..." I placate. All of my principles should be encouraging me to give an emphatic NO, but I don't know what that one word would do to this man who is now looking at me with such adoration, such... hopefulness. Indeed, his eyes - once as hazel as the fresh greenery we would explore together - have now blackened with undeniable lust.

"I have loved you from the moment I clamped eyes on you," he whispers in a lovesick hiss. "What could be more reasonable than to marry you?"

I gape at him, my eyes searching his, the answer obvious to me. "We'd kill each other!" I conclude flatly, without irony.

"Nonsense!" Gale laughs.

"Neither of us can keep our temper -"

"I can... unless provoked." If the conversation were not of such serious things like marriage, I would laugh at that. Even then, there is not much humor there. A provoked temper in this district would give you a one-way ticket to the stocks: maybe not under Head Peacekeeper Cray, but definitely under his successor, Thread.

"We're both stupidly stubborn - especially you - we'd only quarrel!"

"I wouldn't!" And Gale's tone sounds almost childish. Here I can't help but smile, even chuckle a little.

"You can't even propose without quarreling," I admonish him gently. Gale laughs at that. He then presses a sweet kiss into my forehead.

"Katniss... I swear I'll be a saint. I'll let you win every argument. I'll take care of you, and Focaccia... and both our families. You wouldn't have to want for anything; you wouldn't even have to hunt unless you wanted to!"

I gaze at him, eyes sad, my mind in torment. I see more difficulties than advantages to us getting married. For one thing, it would mean our friendship would never be the same again. Even if we would marry for friendship, dependency, kinship - a marriage I suppose I could get behind, if I am reticent to marry for economic advantage or even marry for love. But it is an impossible and unrealistic expectation. Unfortunately, it is all too common. Many Seam marriages are based on deep friendship and understanding in lieu of romantic love. Gale would provide for me just as much as I provide for myself and both our families. The problem is that Gale would have to continue working in the mines even more than he already does to care for a wife waiting at home. For that is where I would be. I could not risk losing him to a collapse the way my mother lost my father. In fact, I would refuse to. And Gale's expectation for our marriage would be very different from mine. He knows well my vow to never have children. But I know Gale wants to become a parent. And I'll be hanged before I see any children of ours sent to the Games, even if we have escaped the Reaping ourselves.

But as I look into my best friend's pleading eyes, all of my reservations seem to buckle under the weight of that lingering look alone. Living in District 12, the poorest district of Panem, is a hard life, especially in the Seam. Survival requires much banding together, sometimes in business and many other times in... marriage...

And there is still Prim and Mother to think about. So I square my shoulders, and even though I am terrified, I nod my head.

"Yes. I will marry you."

Gale beams as bright as the sun's rays and kisses me soundly before I can object. "I'll run and tell your mother."

A few weeks later, I am standing in the living room of my mansion, by the fireplace, adorned in Mother's wedding dress. Prim attends to me, and off to the side are Gale's mother, Hazelle, her four little ones and Gale, my husband-to-be. He is dressed in a pressed suit, probably his father's. Most Seam families have only one fancy outfit, usually for a Toasting such as this one.

A Toasting is District 12's marriage tradition, after you sign the marriage papers at the Justice Building. No one in District 12 feels truly married without this ritual. Gale and I now kneel beside the meager fireplace and stoke up the fire. We toast a bit of bread Prim collected from the Bakery in town, split it and share it. Then, Gale helps me to my feet and draws me close. My eyes are tinged with the slightest fear as I tentatively let him press his lips to mine. I dare to kiss him back, ever so gently. This kiss changes our relationship forever. We are now man and wife. I am Mrs. Gale Hawthorne, a miner's spouse and will fall asleep next to him in the same bed, in our own house, tonight.

Mother decides to take Focaccia over to sleep over at Haymitch's, leaving me and my new husband alone in …. our mansion (now the spouse of a Victor, Gale will of course be living with me and my daughter) to have a wedding night alone. I give a cry of surprise as Gale proceeds to sweep me off my feet and carry me up the stairs to our bedroom. He finally sets me down just in front of our bed. Drumming his hands along my shoulder blades, he begins kissing down my neck. I squirm a little, gasping, and I feel his fingers begin to work the zipper of my wedding gown, undressing me. Heart hammering, I turn to him and whisper, "I can get it off myself."

I cannot tell what emotion is reflected in his eyes, but he nods understandingly, and I slip into my adjacent bathroom to strip off my wedding dress. I'm breathing hard, and I study myself in the mirror to get into the right headspace. I've only ever been with a man once before and it was magical. It was the night Peeta and I conceived our daughter. Now that I am someone's wife, will Gale expect me to lie with him? Will I like it as much as I adored making love to Peeta? I shake my head. It will be impossible not to compare the two, and inevitable. But I have to do this. Snow knows Gale has been patient with me, and whatever his opinions about Merchants, and Peeta in particular, he has never treated my daughter badly. He keeps an eye on her the way he still does Posy, and his little sister is already a year away from her first Reaping!

It is dark now outside, and once I change into a simple nightdress, I light a candle to guide my way as I slip back into Gale's and my bedroom. I climb into bed with him, scooching under his arm, though my back is to him, allowing him to spoon me.

My husband doesn't move to touch me, perhaps afraid that he's already leveled too much pressure already. I hope he would want me to be completely sure before we…

Lifting my head from his chest, I turn to face him. Expression solemn, dipping my head, I press my lips hungrily to his.

The kiss deepens surprisingly quickly, and I feel his arms encircle me as I press up against him. I open my lips to his tongue with a groan, granting him access, and he swims in my mouth. All the blood is rushing to my head. I feel dizzy. And when Gale starts to roll into me, I rather forcefully slam him back into the mattress, assertively swinging my creamy legs over his thighs as I move to straddle him. Gale seems awestruck by my audacity, but I remain serious and no-nonsense, full aware of what I am about to do. What I actually want to do, and have for a while now, despite my reservations. Leaning over him is all the encouragement my husband needs to drag my face down eagerly to his, our mouths warring for dominance. My hands, free and resting lightly on his broad pecs, drag back so I can yank the bodice of my grey sleepshirt down my chest; in the dim light of the lantern my breasts hang free like apples and cupping them, I touch myself, fingers tweaking the pebbling purple of my teat. Gale chokes into my insistent lips when he sees I'm not wearing a bra.

Our collective breathing has become heavy, labored; we're both panting and I can feel my pelvis canting along the bulge in his pants. My lover switches tactics and suctions his teeth to my nipple, causing me to throw back my head with a breathy moan.

"Mmmm….. Hmmm…. Yes, Gale… Gale…."

I rock against him more frantically, feeling him twitch and harden under me. Tugging him away from where he's lathering my boob, I pull his face to mine desperately and we kiss in a mixture of deep sucking and little, frantic pecks.

I come up for air long enough to now take my nightdress and tug it over my head, dropping it over the side of mattress where it pools on the floor with a rustling, silky sigh. I rise up to push my panties down off and over my hips; the fabric only makes it past my knees before I am helping undress Gale.

His talented hands move to tightly squeeze the rounded globes of my bare buttocks, and he bucks up into me. With a growl, I grind against him with every pumping jerk of my hips. My folds are slick and damp with need, becoming all the more soaked when I rub against Gale's proud stalk.

"Gale…." I whisper into his lips, our heads thrashing. "Inside me. Please. You won't hurt me. You could never hurt me. I promise."

Gale lines up with my entrance and pushes. When I come down on him, I cry out, but I like it.

We stay there for a moment, joined as one, gazing into each other's eyes, before I sit up, looking almost regal astride his hips. Soft hands back to resting lightly on his chest, I begin to furiously ride him, moans and grunts torn from my lips as, all through the night, Gale and I spend hours upon hours making love. My cries when he makes me cum are seemingly loud enough to wake up the whole district. I still make him pull out before he reaches his own release, to be safe.

"Mmmmm….. HMMMMM! MMMM! URRRRRR! HURRR! UHHHHHH!"