I do not own the hunger games. Special thanks to norberts mom and javits reading and betaing the story. I hope you enjoy

Time went by quickly. Two weeks had gone by since she had the encounter with Peeta. In that fortnight, Katniss fought mightily to regain her health; she feared Baronet Cray's threat to return. They were expecting Cray at any moment. Katniss was fraught with worry, and she could not find rest.

Many nights she awoke with nightmares of her father's death, of being taken by Cray.

She could not find rest as they tried to raise the money. Katniss was still too weak to do any chores in the house, never mind hunt. The pelts she gathered in her hunt were often sold at a high price on market day. This year when the winter lessened and before the pelting spring rain began, Prim and her mother had gone to the market to sell the cheese they made from Lady's milk. Lady was her baby sister's goat. Although her mother's poultices sold well, they came back with little coins, only a handful of denarii. They now had eight silver coins for the taxes. Katniss had no doubt they would've had more coins had she been well enough to hunt.

She rued the day she left her warm home for the woods. Had she stayed in bed she would not have gotten sick, and they would have more coins lining their pockets, and no worries as to the plowing and planting.

Rain fell steadily. The pitter-patter dance of the water on the roof added to Katniss's worry. She sighed softly in her bed, wondering if her health would strengthen in time for the planting season. If she was not well enough to plant the crop, there would be no harvest, and they would not have enough money to pay the taxes due at the end of the season.

"Ye need your rest," Prim said softly.

"There is so much to be done," Katniss whispered into the darkness.

"Ye carry the weight of the world on thine shoulders sister," Prim murmured.

"I am afraid, we shan't be able to raise the monies," Katniss whispered thinking of her nightmare involving Cray.

"Have faith," Prim said.

"Faith," Katniss snickered. "That is a wives tale, told to young innocent lasses to keep them in place."

"Katniss," Prim admonished.

"Sorry, it's just that I am much afraid of the future. I dream..."

"Of father," Prim supplied.

"Yes, and my future is destined in the hands of a cruel man," Katniss whispered.

"Do you mean Cray or our dearest cousin," Prim said.

Katniss could just picture her sister's sneer in the dark. Prim couldn't stand their cousins, the Hawthorne's. Her sister was sunshine and rainbows until crossed. Then she could be quite formidable. For some reason, the Hawthornes had gotten on her sister's bad side. True, they were a handful, but they were family after all.

"Gale is too full of himself and Cray is evil. I dare understand the fountain of your night terrors."

Katniss didn't reply.

Her sister's hand found hers. "Things will work out."

"I wish I was as hopeful. I still am unwell and cannot even make it outside without getting winded. How can I help plow the fields and plant the grain or the peas if I cannot move?"

"I prefer having you weak and breathing than in perpetual slumber."

"Prim," Katniss said. If not for that medicinal pack she would have died.

"I just know we shall find a way, even if we have to sell one of the horses or oxen."

They needed the oxen to plow and they needed the horses to get to market. But they could hire a cart from their cousins. "Mother is not worried."

"Mother is depending on our cousins," Prim said. "She foolishly puts her hope in them..."

Katniss gripped her sister's hand.

"They might be our kin, but they are vain, dressed in duplicitous garbs, and thirsty for what is not theirs. They will descend upon us like locusts and eat us out of house and home. Just because our mother bore females does not mean we are defenseless. Even ill, ye are still better with the bow than Gale."

Katniss laughed at her sister's rant. It was true, she was better with a bow. "Feel better after your confession?"

"Yes," Prim sighed.

"Good."

"Nonetheless, dear sister, have faith. I felt the wind of change today whilst milking Lady," Prim whispered.

Her voice was filled with something intangible. Katniss turned her head to peer at her sister. Whenever her sister felt the wind of change, things happened. The last time her sister felt this way their father became sick. "Are ye sure?"

"Yes," Prim whispered.

Katniss let her sister's hand go, as she was filled with dread.

"I cannot explain it, Katniss, but I felt it. Much like one can feel the sun's gentle caress on the eve of spring. Or the way a gentle summer rain brings a cool kiss to one's heated forehead. Something good is approaching and we must be ready with open arms when it arrives," Prim whispered sleepily.

Katniss lay there listening to her sister's breaths as she slipped into the comforting arms of sleep. Her sister was wrong though; nothing ever changed for good. Ever since their father's death, things had gotten worse. The only bright spot had been meeting Peeta, but as the days slipped by she was beginning to think it was a hallucination. Something her mind made up whilst she'd been delirious with fever.

As the days rolled on, the memories of the man with the pointed ears and eyes so blue they looked like fathomless pools of water began to fade.

Spring arrived. The snow melted, the rains gave way to warmer temperatures. When the rains stopped, the ground was finally firm enough to begin plowing the land with their two oxen. Katniss was still too weak to do the job, she fretted, but her sister's words came to her, and for the slim moment she felt peace. She felt stronger today and she decided it was time for her to leave the house, brave the elements, and make the valiant trip to the barn.

"Katniss, ye shouldn't be going out," her mother urged.

"I am going only to the barn." Katniss sighed.

"Mother, she needs to walk, it is good for her constitution," Prim said smartly. Prim turned to Katniss. "Take father's walking stick to give ye extra stability as ye walk."

"Thank ye, Prim," Katniss said as she took the walking stick. She turned to her mother, "I am only going to collect the eggs."

"Yes, but," her mother protested.

"Mother," Prim said.

"Fine," her mother grumbled.

"I promise mother, if I do not feel well, I shall amble back to the house." Katniss smiled gently.

Her mother nodded.

"Go, before she changes her mind," Prim said, pushing Katniss outside with a basket.

Katniss nodded as she made her way to the barn, leaning on the walking stick as she went. As she neared the building she noted it too needed repairs. Upon her father's untimely demise the house and the barn began to decline. Katniss tried to do as much as she could, but now that she had fallen ill the upkeep became too much for her baby sister and mother. Her eyes scanned the fields that lay untouched as a bride on her wedding night.

Time was their enemy as planting needed to get done.

She paused as she thought she saw a bright twinkle in the bright morning sunlight. It reminded her of the way Peeta glowed. She shook her head thinking perhaps it was the effect of staring at the sun too long.

"He's not real," Katniss muttered to herself. Her traitorous mind conjured the taste of the brew he made her drink, the way she couldn't escape the clearing or the way his voice affected her. The memory of Peeta was the one thing she could not shake. She stood in the small barn, where they kept Lady the goat, their father's horse, and the chickens. The oxen were grazing in the enclosed area.

Walking into the barn her free hand went to where she kept the bow and sheath of arrows. Putting down her basket and propping her walking stick up against the wall, Katniss picked up her bow. She loved the weight of her weapon. The smooth wood needed to be oiled. She could do that, her mother wouldn't object. Nocking an arrow, she tested how far she could pull back the string.

Katniss felt at peace and alive again as she released the tension in the bow. Her peaceful reverie didn't last long.

The rooster, a nasty red and black plumed fowl she called Thread, clucked, giving her a deadly stare. She was still not feeling well and if Thread interfered she would never again convince her mother to allow her to come and collect the chicken eggs, until her mother felt secure.

Thread spread his wings and flapped them. The wily rooster was acting up, and Katniss was not going to let him win.

"Thread, if ye so much as come at me today!" Katniss warned.

The rooster clucked his disapproval and batted his wings.

Katniss held her bow and arrow in one hand and picked up her walking stick. She shook them both in the nasty birds direction.

As soon as Thread was finished with his tantrum he scurried away. Katniss put her weapon down, picked up her basket, and set to the task at hand. Her hands were shaky as she collected the eggs. She thought about how different they were now as a family.

Ever since waking up the morning after her night in the forest, her mother had been a different person. Almost like she had been before her father died. Katniss supposed it was because her mother was forced to tend to her health.

What should have taken only a few minutes took forever. Katniss began to feel weak. She put the egg basket down and sat on some hay. Her bow and arrows were nearby. The breeze was pleasant. Her mind drifted back to that night.

Katniss shook her head, reaffirming the dalliance she had in the forest was just a mad episode after her encounter with Cray that morning. Katniss was convinced the spell was conjured up by her sleep-laden mind. She was still innocent, after all; the only relations she had with the fairy amounted to chaste kisses, ones on the lips and cheeks.

However, the taste of the brew in the chalice seemed real. She could still taste its smooth velvety cool taste, as it touched her lips. She could still smell the dark brew's wild berry elixir.

"Peeta," she whispered.

She heard a noise and it startled her. Grabbing her bow, she nocked an arrow pointing in the direction of the noise. "Who goes there?"

Peeta came out of the corner, hands in the air. "Tis a way to treat thine mate?"

Seeing Peeta caused her hand to slip and the arrow embedded itself in the wood inches away from his pointy ear.

"Remind me never to get ye mad," he grinned.

"Oh," Katniss exclaimed, dropping the bow. She could not believe he was standing there. "Twas not a dream?" She whispered to herself, but he heard her.

"No, lass," Peeta said grinning. "Ye look thin," Peeta said walking up to her.

"I was sick," Katniss whispered.

"I am deeply sorry about transporting Ye. I left herbs for ye on thine gentle kitten."

"Buttercup is not gentle. Nor is that beast mine."

"I take it ye and Buttercup do not get along." His eyes were full of mischief and Katniss wondered what Peeta was thinking.

"I tried to drown the flea-bitten cat when my sister found him."

Peeta laughed. "When I learned ye were ill. I sought the medicine, and I tied it to his tail. He was my messenger. I promised him a long life."

Hearing his laugh snapped her out of the state of disbelief at his sudden appearance. Katniss glared at him, becoming mad that he left her alone. He did not come to see her whilst she was ill. "Where have ye been? Ye sent me back and I thought it was all made up. I thought I was daft!"

"You're not daft; it was very much real." He stepped toward her slowly, just the way she approached a wild beast when she hunted. "I had to take care of some things in my own world, a mo chuisle. Ach lass. We drank the Tósta."

Katniss touched her lips. The taste of the wine from the chalice combined with the taste of his lips caused her body to tingle. Katniss looked away from his mesmerizing blue eyes. His eyes looked like the whirling stars of the night sky. It was all too much to see him standing in daylight. She bunched her hands into fists to keep herself from touching him. She could still be hallucinating as a result of her illness.

"I came back for yea, a mo chuisle."

A mo chuisle was a term of endearment, one she had heard before between her parents. One she did not think he currently had the right to call her. As it occurred to her, Peeta had tricked her. He asked her for a song, and she thought she could trade it for her mother's health. Yet, somehow, she ended up married to him, a trickster fairy who left her on her wedding night to go traipsing around the world while she was sick. She grabbed her walking stick and walked away from him toward the barn door, and the unplowed fields beyond it.

"You're mad at me, are ye not?"

Katniss pursed her lips to keep herself from speaking to him. She loathed speaking, but with him, words had a way of spilling forth from her mouth. At this moment, she was so irate that she was afraid she would say something she would regret.

Katniss doubled down and walked quicker but he easily caught up with her.

"I kept my promise, thine mother was healed. Plus, I did send the tea, twas the only thing I could do. My father was rightly upset. I'd bonded with a human. I wanted to make him understand how rare a gem ye are."

Katniss stopped walking and spun around to face him. Her voice dripping with her pent-up frustration of losing her father, the only decent man she knew. The only other men she had known fell short. "Ye are the reason for my discontent. This entire mess is of thine doing. Ye tricked me."

"I tricked ye?'

Katniss narrowed her eyes.

"Tell me, a mo chuisle." Peeta didn't touch her but his nearness caused goosebumps to appear on her body.

"Do not dare act the fool with me."

"Pray tell, madam, tell me how I deceived ye?" His raspy voice caused her heart to beat wildly and her body to heat with fever.

The heat stirred a different type of malady, one that caused her to want to lean up on tiptoe and crush her lips to his. How could this man do this to her? The infuriating part was that he stood there bathed in innocence.

He looked so blameless, and it irked her. "Ye trapped me in the forest and would not let me leave lest I sang ye another song."

"Well, can you blame me? Ye sounded like an angel. Thine voice is enchanting." He took her hand in his and bowed as if she was a Queen. "Thine voice is worth all of the gold and the precious gems in the world, and more magical than anything a fairy could conjure." He looked up at her through his golden eyelashes, his blue eyes made the breath she held in her chest escape.

Katniss stood there wondering how it was that he was making her anger disappear. She frowned, thinking of why she was supposed to be upset with him; eventually, it returned to Katniss. He had asked her to have his baby and to marry her, and then he abandoned her.

But when she stood there, he gave her a sincere gaze. His eyes were alluring, his lips kissable, and his arms inviting. Everything about him screamed for her to kiss him soundly. Her mind conjured up the way his mouth felt on hers, and the way he tasted as sweet as sugar.

"Stop it," she growled, pulling back her hand. Katniss told herself she would walk away but she did not. She was drawn to him, and it frustrated her because Katniss did not want to feel this connection with him. Yet the bond was strong.

"Why are ye mad?" He seemed perplexed.

"Ye tricked me into promising ye a firstborn, and into marrying ye, and I…" Katniss poked him in the chest. She did not want him but, at the same time, she did not want to lose him. "…I do not trust ye." She looked up at him angrily but, even as she stared at him, Katniss thought he looked so good, tempting even.

One minute she was furious, the next, her lips were smashed up against his. His hands did not touch her. He let her lips roam his before his hands lightly settled on her hips. The heat of his hands penetrated her clothing. Katniss wanted to strip herself bare and commit all manner of sinful acts with him. She stepped away feeling hot. Her heartbeat roughly. "I loathe ye."

"Do ye?" he grinned. His eyes sparkled, daring her to kiss him once more.

Katniss pushed him away and walked back toward the house. He caught up with her.

"I am staying, a mo chuisle."

"How? Ye are a fairy!" She pointed to his ears.

"You're my mate and I will stay with ye until the end of thine days. I am going to live with thee and your family."

Katniss panicked. "Peeta, they know nothing of ye. I did not say anything."

"Do not fret, lass." Peeta covered his ears with his wavy hair. "As far as they are concerned, I will be a man seeking employment. I will help ye in the field in return all I need is food and a soft bed to sleep in at night."

"I cannot act as if ye are a simple laborer. I am not able to deceive."

"Ye have a pure heart, lass, allow me to engage in the conversation with thine mother." He winked before putting a soft kiss on her cheek.

Katniss gasped, her hand flew to her cheek. His kiss made her heart race and she could not help the warmth that flooded through her. A girlish blush touched her cheeks, as she watched him walk out of the barn. Peeta might be charming to her, but her mother was another story.

Her mother was a keen observer with a quick wit. She was a healer and not someone given to fanciful speech. Katniss was sure her mother would never accept Peeta's offered help.