Brutus stepped up to the burning pyre, stared for several long heartbeats at Cinna's body wrapped in his funeral shawl, raised his head, sent me a look of utter contempt, then looked steadily at Peeta.

"This is enough," he said, his voice furious, but controlled. "I have had enough. I have had enough of you, Peeta, of your Trojans, and of your damned wife. I have had enough of that monstrosity you are building atop Chaff and Seeder's sacred hills. I have had enough of your Trojan magic and your cursed godwell."

I placed a placating hand on Peeta's arm, but through our bond I could sense that he was not angered or nettled in the least by Brutus' hostility. I could feel Peeta's pity for Brutus, and also sorrow, but I could barely comprehend it, and though I could sense there was more than just this sadness, I could not reach beyond the deep unknowing of that sorrow.

Brutus raised his voice, and he took a step forward, trying to force Peeta and I into a confrontation. "Now that Clove is gone, there are those in this land who have a much stronger claim to this land. Much stronger than two strangers who wish to desecrate it. To rewrite our histories, to change what it means to be from Panem, to replace our gods…"

"I do not wish to desecrate this land," Peeta said in a quiet, even voice. Behind us, I saw Marvel rest his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I only wish to make this land safe and prosperous for Panem-born and Trojan alike."

"Clove was the blackest witch alive, but at least she was Panem-born," Brutus said. "I have stood by and watched for too long. I will invoke my claim."

"There is nothing you can do," said Cecelia, who had just hurried across the clearing. "Brutus, please – not here. Do not disgrace Cinna like this. We have supported Katniss' triumph over Clove for months. This is the outcome we wanted. This is what Seeder foretold to us the night of the Slaughter Festival. Katniss and Peeta are Panem's future."

Brutus shrugged away her words.

"There is everything I can do," he said. "I stand here to represent my gods. Seeder and Chaff. I challenge your right to settle here, Peeta. I challenge your right to assume the place of Anointed Father. I challenge your right to live."

"What?"

"I challenge you on behalf of Seeder and Chaff. They want you gone, Peeta, as do I. Will you meet me?"

"Are you challenging me to a combat?"

Brutus' lips turned upwards, amused by Peeta's incredulity. "Yes. Tomorrow at dawn. On Seeder's Hill."

"You cannot be serious."

"Whoever wins will have indisputable rights to this land."

"Oh, Brutus, no," Cecelia whispered.

"You could take him," said Deimas.

Finnick leaned into Peeta's opposite side, speaking softly. "You cannot back down from a direct challenge, my prince."

Marvel nodded in agreement.

Peeta frowned, then his eyes turned to mine. I could see his doubts.

Then I heard them: I am so tired of the killing.

"Very well then," said Peeta. "Tomorrow." Peeta paused, his sorrowful eyes riveted on the flames beyond Brutus' shoulders. "I will meet you at dawn atop Seeder's Hill."

That night our hut of companions was unusually quiet and melancholy. Only two days had passed since the fight in the meadow. While Peeta and I had left the battle triumphant, two successive funerals had put a damper on that victory. The people of Panbank mourned for their Anointed Mother, and those who did not, mourned Cinna.

There had been little time to discuss upcoming plans. I had not heard from Darius, and could only assume he was still healing, being nursed back to health by Rue or that strange red-haired goddess. I was relieved to prolong our reunion. I could not quite articulate why, but I felt anxious for his reaction to the knowledge that Peeta and I were now bound as mutual power sources. I did not think Darius had expected that I would so readily create a couple's godwell with Peeta either. I hoped Darius would stay away because of this, but at the same time, I wondered if he would have invaluable advice for me on the matter of creating said godwell, and worried whether or not he would be willing to share this knowledge.

Peeta had delayed the moving of our household into the palace atop Chaff's Hill until we had received the results of the Assembly Meeting. While we would accept nothing else but myself as the Anointed Mother, we were at least attempting to give the Panem people a sense of agency and avoided taking actions that were presumptuous.

Marvel had voiced a little opposition to me taking that position, but Deimas and Finnick were quick to support the idea. Peeta regarded those in his most trusted group of advisors as friends, even Marvel, and while Marvel still felt wary about me, he trusted Peeta. The rest of the Trojans would have varying opinions, but ultimately, it would be just like the people of Panem; they needed not to love me, only tolerate me. In time, perhaps there would be respect, and with luck, the love they already held for Peeta.

Until then, it was a matter of getting through the bureaucracy of it.

And so, in our homely hut, we feigned normalcy. Prim cuddled with the toddling Achates and Aurora. Marvel ladled a second portion of dinner into his bowl from the pot simmering over the coals in the hearth. Finnick conversed softly with Deimas over matters of guard rotations and training. Peeta stood with his shoulder leaning against the doorframe of the front entrance, staring out into the night.

I wandered over to him. I placed a hand against his upper back, but even before I placed it there, I knew he anticipated my touch. He leaned his head to the side. He did not speak aloud.

The stars are very beautiful on this side of the world.

I followed his gaze upwards. There were constellations shining overhead. I could imagine my own shapes into them, but I had never cared for the study of the stars as a girl and knew nothing of the universally understood and classical meanings within them.

Sometimes I forget you were a sailor.

Peeta smiled a little at my comment. He took a few steps outside the entrance, and I followed, glad to be away from the other's ears.

The night was cold, but not bitterly. I wrapped my long-sleeved cloak more firmly around my body and easily kept paced with Peeta. The sky was amazingly clear this night; the countryside was stained silver with moonlight, and the surface of the Pan river shined like dark glass, reflecting the stars, as it burbled happily past the town.

We walked away from town, but not towards the fire scorched meadow. Peeta took a route into the foothills, just south of Panbank, that I had never been to before.

"I am not looking forward to the sun rising," Peeta said, once we had reached the top of an outcropping of limestone. We stood under the dark shadows of a large oak tree.

"You had no choice. Brutus would have challenged us regardless of the timing."

"I do not wish to kill the man."

"You may not have the mercy of choice," I told him. "A part of the job in becoming the new gods of this land is to remove threats. Brutus is not just a threat to you and I but to the Trojans, and those in Panem who would stand with us."

Peeta did not meet my gaze when I turned towards him but continued to look up into the sky. I could sense a wall; but it was not an intentional wall he had built to keep me out. It was the sorrow. I could not see past it. It was deep and twisting, unknowing, and I found myself getting lost in it just trying to find the source.

"Tell me what you are thinking," I said, the desperation in my tone betraying me.

"That I should have run away with you in those purple hills at the Altars of the Philistines."

As romantic the notion, it was unrealistic and would never have gone well.

"There is no running away for us now," I said.

Peeta chuckled. "I do not think there ever was."

Finally, Peeta lowered his eyes to meet my stare. I could sense the sorrow ebb a little, and beyond it a manifestation of guilt.

"It is so strange to know what you are feeling, just by being near you," I said.

"I suppose it would be strange to you," he said. "I have been able to sense your feelings for months, even at distances. At first, only strong emotional reactions will be detectable, but in time, you will be able to see more intricate feelings, and at great distances, too." He reached out a hand and cupped one of my cheeks. "But sensing a feeling and knowing the why are two different things. I can tell you are anxious. Why?"

"For you," I tell him. The gentleness of his touch brought a warmth to my chest, and I found myself distracted by his lips. I could count the number of times I had kissed him; for months, I had forbidden him from kissing me. Now, I was staggered by the desire I felt looking at him.

Peeta's head cocked to the side. I flushed, wondering if he could sense the desire.

"You are worried about me?" he asked, withdrawing his hand. "You are the one who, to me, has gone from mortal to a goddess nearly overnight. How have you found the power to be so far? Do you feel you have a handle on it? You must have questions."

I took a moment to answer. I stared at my hands. "I think so. I had Chaff's power for some time, I simply just did not have a power source. But now, with you as the power source, maybe that is what makes it much easier to handle, because you are so familiar to me. The power… I sense there is more of it than I can currently mold to my will, but it feels like, well, like you."

"It is the same for me," he said. "But since the fight in the meadow, when you revealed to me that Seeder had passed her gift on to me… I can tell the difference between my power as Hades and as Seeder."

"How so?"

"It is hard to describe." Peeta struggled to put it into words, then abruptly asked me, "But you would know, wouldn't you?"

I raised my eyebrow. "No?"

Peeta narrowed his eyes as he looked at me. He leaned closer and ran a thumb along my jaw. He shook his head. "I am not so good at sensing power in others, but you are not merely Chaff."

I tried to feel myself, the power, to understand what he was speaking of, but I was bewildered. "I do not understand."

Peeta abruptly pointed to the stars. "Do you see those three stars, there, in a row?"

"Yes."

"That is a hunter's belt, and the rest, you can make out the torso of the hunter?"

"I do not understand why you are showing me this."

"This constellation is called Orion, for a hunter that was beloved of Artemis, who had met an untimely death."

It dawned on me. "Artemis?"

"When you killed Clove, you took that from her," he said. "Since it has only been a few days, it has not manifested quite yet. I could not be sure at first, but I can feel it more clearly now. It is not that you reminded me of Clove, as I was loathed to make that conclusion, but the power of Artemis is what I felt."

"Surely this is a good thing," I said. "It will help match our power."

"Yes, it will level the ground. Make it easier for you with the godwell… if you can control it."

"I can."

"Never afraid of a challenge, are you?" said Peeta.

I flashed him a grin. "Don't you remember how we met?"

"You knocked out one of my men, I think," he said, pretending to ponder it, but then he grew serious. "You are very brave."

I shrugged away the praise, but he was insistent.

"You faced Achates birth with much more bravery than I had," he said.

"I was not given much of a choice in that," I said, but he misinterpreted my meaning.

"No, you weren't," he said, and I could sense the sorrow deepen. "I regret that."

"Don't," I said, and drew closer to him, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I do not regret it. I would do it again, to have Achates. I would never regret him. If you mean to give me condolence and love your son, you won't say that again."

"Aye," he said. "I shall never say it again, if that is your will."

"It is."

"Then I am at your behest," he said, his voice low.

Standing in the shadows of the oak tree, surrounded by the night, listening to the crickets, and the shifting of the shrubs, it was easy to forget that we were two gods, tied together in power. I felt instead, for that moment, a simplicity I had never felt with Peeta. There was no cauldron of conflicting emotions between us. Instead I faced him as an equal, and felt no obligation, no fear, but admiration and respect – and again, that desire.

I leaned forward, and Peeta met me halfway eagerly.

The kiss was simple at first but feeling the combination of my own desire and his desire for me, swept us away.

Peeta pulled me closer, his hands holding my hips. But even that was not close enough. I raised my arms and looped them around his shoulders, and he lifted me. He turned us and rested my back against the oak tree, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He groaned into my mouth, and my limbs felt weak and pliable in response. My heart was hammering inside my chest, and I could feel his was doing the same.

Before I realized what I was doing, without even moving my mouth from his, I shrugged out of my long-sleeved cloak, and his hands pushed the skirts of my robe up to run his hands across my bare thighs.

I rocked my body against his; the desire feeling urgent and unrelenting. I wanted him, right then.

Peeta smiled into my mouth and pulled back, just enough to look into my eyes. At first, he looked on the verge of laughing at my wanton behavior, but whatever he saw in my face, banished his amusement, and knocked him breathless. He kissed me again, harder, his hands tightening their grip on my thighs.

I fumbled with the tie of his waistcloth, and I half expected him to stop me, but he did not. He helped me when my useless fingers could not undo the knot by feel. He tossed the clothing aside and lifted me away from the tree.

Still kissing, he walked us a few steps further into the shade, then kneeled, laying me against the ground beneath the oak tree. Peeta tossed aside his own cloak, revealing his chest.

I raised a hand and traced the lines of his abdomen. Then impatiently, I grabbed at his hip and pulled him close, his body covering mine from the cold. Peeta planted one hand on the ground beside my head, and the other cupped my face, as he kissed me again – but this time, while the kiss still had the undulating want, it had gentleness to it, reverence.

I pulled the skirts of my robe back up and wrapped my legs around him. Peeta's lips moved from my mouth to kiss my neck, then whispered in my ear, "Are you sure?"

I had never been more sure about anything, ever. Surely, he could have felt that through the bond.

"Yes, Peeta," I said, my voice raw and breathless. "I want you."

In answer, he pushed into me, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My hands pulled at his shoulders, then as he began to move more urgently, thrusting in and out of me, I gripped him by his hair. I pulled his mouth down to mine and brought my hips up to meet his. He groaned in response.

I felt like I was burning with the desire, like it was a fire in need of fuel, and would continue to ebb and flow forever. The point in which I ended and in which Peeta began became obscure. I felt not just the touch of his sweaty flesh against mine, but I could feel his power, surrounding me, pulling me in, intertwining with mine.

Peeta's hand slid down my waist, then gripped my hip. I pressed myself against his hand, to steady myself. My breath was coming out in pants now, and I dropped my head back against the grass.

"Katniss," Peeta said, his voice jarring me. "Katniss."

I opened my eyes and looked up into the treetop. I could see the moon between the leaves. I realized in irony that Artemis was a deity of the moon, and that I had thought of Peeta and his power like the sun; and how appropriate the comparison was.

Peeta was staring at me, and when I met his eyes, I reached up to him, and instead of pulling him back to me, I rolled us. I sat astride him and Peeta's hands settled against my waist, holding my robe up, as a I rocked against him.

It did not take long for the ebb and flow to build, to reach a crescendo, and for the wetness of his seed to spill inside of me.

I rolled off of him, laying in the grass beside him and trying to catch my breath. Peeta pulled me close, my face resting against his chest. His heart was still beating quickly.

"Well," he said.

I laughed.

Peeta rolled onto his side, to look down at me. I could not sense the sorrow anymore; only relief, amusement – love.

"Chaff and Seeder would be proud," he joked. "Rutting around like animals in the middle of the forest."

"Is that why you lured me all the way out here?"

Peeta smiled sheepishly. "No, but I'll have to remember it for the future."

I rolled my eyes. "I am glad you have returned to good spirits."

"It is hard to remain gloomy when I have you," he said.

"Yes, well, it has only taken two years."

"Two years of missed opportunities," he said suggestively, running a hand down my inner thigh.

His touch still sent a thrill through my entire body. "Don't get too distracted now," I said, my words hypocritical, as I eyed him in desire.

Peeta sighed. "I have always thought you'd be the death of me, but not like this," he said in frustration and rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his arm.

We lay there for a while, catching our breath, enjoying the peacefulness of the forest. But eventually, neither of us could continue to ignore the sinking moon. Without the need to say anything we righted our clothing and walked back towards town.

On the path up to our hut, Peeta paused.

"I do not know what will happen tomorrow with Brutus, but afterward, we can begin your training for the godwell. You will be ready?"

"Yes," I said. "But tonight we have to at least attempt to get some sleep."

"That will be hard, with you next to me," he said.

"You have done so for months," I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes again, and to keep the smile from my face.

Peeta started walking forward again, then said over his shoulder, "Aye, but that was before you mauled me in the woods."

"I did not," I said, feeling a touch of embarrassment. I had been the one to start stripping off both of our clothes, and I had been the one to kiss him first…

Peeta gave me a wicked grin, knowing the embarrassment I felt. Which only made me frustrated that he could do that. I followed him. "I am never going to get used to this," I said.

Peeta only laughed loudly in response.