Disclaimer: This fic is rated "M" for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games (although I wish I did). All other ideas and creative liberties are my own.

I'm free-falling—a surreal yet odd sensation for someone who's spent the majority of his life on a ship drifting through space. Limbs flail in mid-air as I descend faster and faster—deeper and deeper into infinite darkness. Images flash by in rapid succession, each hurtling past my peripherals. But before I can focus on any specific one—it's gone. I'm falling through time, my life flashing before my eyes in reverse.

The constant state of anticipation has my lungs gasping for breath, but there's no air in space. Nothing to relieve the band of pressure constricting my chest. I call out, desperate for someone to help me but my voice is gone and there's no one to hear my plea. But then the endless black surrounding me fades to grey and then indigo and then blue, like the morning sky. Mountain peaks rush past, then the dark foliage of tree tops. Dread courses through my body. I know what's next. It's only a matter of time.

But I never hit solid ground. Instead, a jolt goes right up my spine and I come to in a cold sweat, covered in goosebumps and paralyzed with fear.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The moment my senses come to the same conclusion, I glance around, getting my bearings as my racing heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. Katniss is snuggled up against my side. Her breaths are long and deep and the slightest smile ghosts her lips, blissfully unaware of my nightmare.

I stare up at the ceiling, focusing on the projection of the night sky. The bright moon is still visible and not too far from where I last remember, which means I wasn't out for very long. I give my head a good shake, trying to shove away the horrible images that threaten to resurface. Images of Katniss dragged away by President Snow. Images of our child ripped from my arms at the reaping. Images of the things they'd do to them.

The longer I lie there, the more my thoughts and unanswered questions from the day before rush to the forefront of my mind. I exhale a heavy sigh. After a nightmare like that, it's obvious I won't be finding sleep anytime soon.

Eventually, I'm too fidgety to stay in bed. The last thing I want is to wake Katniss with my restless energy, not to mention the loud gurgling sounds coming from my stomach.

I need to find my brother, but I linger a few more minutes, just watching the steady rise and fall of Katniss's body as she slumbers on. It's comforting, knowing that we're finally somewhere safe for a night. She doesn't stir when I extricate my arm from where she's been using it as a pillow and I quietly locate my discarded coveralls. I make sure to position a few pillows around her, hopeful they'll allow her to continue sleeping so peacefully.

As a precaution, I set the door to motion control from the inside. That way Katniss won't feel trapped if she happens to wake up while I'm out for a midnight stroll.

The dimmed halls are absent of life, but it doesn't take long before I locate the canteen. It's there I find Rye, alone and tucked away at a small table built into the ship's hull. He's staring off into space, a lost look on his face as he toys with an empty protein bar wrapper. The distinct crackle triggers a memory from when I was barely a kid.

With Emmer already doing his part for Panem-12, slogging away in the belly of the ship and running errands for the maintenance crews, most of the time it was Rye who was left to watch over me while our parents were out fulfilling their own duties. My father was usually gone not long after waking and wouldn't return until dinnertime. My mother, however, was supposed to have regularly scheduled breaks throughout the day to check on us. But that was a joke.

Some days, she'd forget to leave out enough snacks or even lunch. Way too often Rye would have to scrounge throughout our apartment in search of something edible. Or knock on a neighbor's door and beg for a handout. No matter how little there was, Rye always made sure I ate my fill first before finishing off whatever was left over.

Looking back on it, most days I was raised by Rye rather than my own parents. Is that why I was more relieved that Rye survived than upset that my parents didn't make it? Maybe that's still the shock talking. Or maybe I'm just messed up. Regardless, I can tell by his pinched features that he's been grappling with his own demons.

When I clear my throat, Rye crumples up the wrapper and turns his attention in my direction. There are so many emotions behind his barely-there smile, but Rye has never been a talker when it comes to the deep stuff. He gestures to the empty bench across from him in invitation.

"She finally asleep?"

Sliding onto the seat, I nod. "Yeah, it's been…quite a day."

"You're telling me."

Glancing around the canteen, I find I don't take as much comfort in the familiarity of the stark walls as I thought I would. It all seems so cold. So lifeless.

"Where'd Haymitch end up?" I eventually ask.

"In his room, no doubt, with the bottle of white liquor I gave him."

"If by gave you mean allowed him to keep what he took, then sure."

We both chuckle, but then our eyes meet and for a split second, I feel like I'm that little kid again, waiting for Rye to tell me that everything is going to be all right.

"So…" Rye says with a whoosh of breath.

When neither of us says a word, we both eventually burst out laughing. There's nothing funny about any of this really, but sometimes it's the only thing you can do to keep it together.

"Yeah," is all I can manage.

I know Rye overheard a good portion of our earlier conversation with Haymitch, but I'm not a hundred percent sure when he started listening in. Whether he heard the whole conversation or not, he deserves to hear the full truth of the matter from me. With a heavy sigh, I lean forward and rest my forearms against the table.

"What you heard back there—"

"I know what you're gonna say," Rye cuts in, holding up a hand. "We have to come up with a plan on how we're going to break this to the others. I mean, finally confirming what really happened to Panem-13, after all these years? The Commander obviously needs to know, but this—it changes things. But don't worry, however we decide to proceed, we're going to do this the right way."

"I'm glad to hear, but that's not what I was going to say." When his brow knits in confusion, I release a long, steady breath. "There's something I have to tell you…about Katniss."

"Is she all right? She looked a little pale earlier, but I guess after what you've both been through these past few weeks, things could be a lot worse. You should really have Pollux look her over, just to be sure."

At the mention of the medic, I'm momentarily distracted. "What happened to him? At first, I thought he was just shy, but then I saw him signing to you, what'd he say?"

Rye laughs. "Yeah, better watch out for that one. He said your wife…I mean, mate…is beautiful." He repeats the motion with his hand and then smirks.

A weird flash of jealousy courses through me, and I ball my fists in response. I don't know why my cheeks start to heat, it's not like I'm embarrassed or anything. I guess I'm just not used to other people commenting on my mate. In that way. Apart from my less-than-stellar introduction to Gale, it's not like there's been anyone around to take notice, so I guess it's just—different. Something I'll have to get used to going forward.

Then I realize, we're on a shuttle full of cadets…male cadets. I don't know a thing about any of them and I just left my pregnant mate all alone and asleep in our room. I rush to stand but just as I'm about to book it back to our room, Rye reaches over and shoves me back down onto the bench.

"Calm down, she's fine. I know what you're thinking and you can just shut those thoughts down right now. My crew may look a little rough around the edges but they're all decent guys."

I narrow my eyes and glower at my brother but finally relent with a harsh nod.

"So let's cut to the chase," Rye says. "Is it real?"

"Is what real?"

"This pairing, or whatever it is you call it…it sounds pretty…permanent."

"They call it coupling, and yes, it's permanent. What kind of a question is that?" My tone is a little on the defensive side, but I can't help it. Who is he to question what Katniss and I have?

Rye throws me an exasperated look. "The kind of question I'd ask the only person I have left in this universe! I'm just trying to look out for you, okay? I went from losing you, to losing everyone, and then getting you back. You'll have to excuse me if the whole thing has left me a little on edge." Rye runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head before continuing. "Do you know what it was like? Seeing your name up on those screens during the draft? Knowing it should have been someone like me? Knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it? That after all these years I failed to protect you again?"

I flinch at the raw emotion in his tone, knowing full well what he's referring to.

The mere mention of the incident with my leg sends a phantom pain rippling through muscles that no longer exist. I press my lips together at the memory but force my brain not to linger on it. There was absolutely nothing he could have done about it. About that or the draft. For him to place an ounce of blame on himself for my selection as a Tribute is complete madness.

Rye squeezes his eyes shut, a look of pure misery on his face. My fingers itch to reach out to him, let him know that he's never failed me.

Before I can answer, he inhales a ragged breath as he wrangles with his emotions. His face takes on a seriousness I've rarely witnessed. "If your situation is something you want out of, I'm sure we can find a way. We can talk to Haymitch and see what—"

"You can stop right there." Frowning, I cross my arms over my chest. "Of course it's real. If it wasn't for her, I'd have died ten times over."

"Gratitude is not a reason to tie yourself to someone for the rest of your life. Are you seriously telling me that you love her?"

"Oh my god," I groan with disbelief, appalled he'd think such a thing was so unlikely. We both seem to be running hot-and-cold with our emotions today, but would I seriously expect otherwise? Trying to keep my growing temper in check, I lower my voice. "Of course, I love her. Of all people, I'd think that'd be most obvious to you."

Rye tosses his hands up in defense. "I just wanted to be sure, okay? Is that such a crime? I know why you never entered your name into the matchmaking program. I just wanted to make sure you weren't...you know."

"No, I don't know. What?"

"Forced."

I bark out a laugh. "Forced? By Katniss? Are we talking about the same person?"

"Fine, maybe forced wasn't the right word. I mean, coerced."

Shaking my head, I lean back against the bench. "No, I wasn't coerced into anything."

Rye doesn't seem to want to take my words at face value, so I release a heavy sigh and just let the words and my emotions tumble out unfiltered.

"Look, what Katniss and I went through, there's no one in this universe that can say they truly understand it. And yes, our circumstances put us in some fucked up, life-threatening situations, but what we have…it grew from a partnership based on friendship and mutual respect. And yes, she's obviously beautiful but she's more than that. She's smart and fearless and after everything that life has thrown at her, she's a survivor. She was alone for so long, and could have let the pain of losing her entire family overcome her, but she didn't. She has this determination…this drive…and yes she can be stubborn as hell, but it's what makes her so…so…"

As I grasp for the right word to describe everything that Katniss is and means to me, I realize I've been rambling.

But something I've said must register with Rye because his assessing gaze softens and the corner of his mouth lifts. "So you do love her."

"Yeah, I do," I answer with no hesitation. "I think my heart knew before my head could comprehend it."

"Then I'm happy for you. But like I said before, I swear you two are safe now. And don't worry about Commander Paylor either, we can trust her. She needs you, okay?"

All I know about the Commander is hearsay. I still don't know all the details as to what went down on the ships, but I do trust my brother. I always have. But it's not just my life on the line anymore.

Leaning back onto the table, I pin my brother with a serious look. "Believe me, I want to trust her because you do, and I would…if it weren't for the baby."

"Baby? What baby?"

"Our baby. Katniss is pregnant."

I've never seen Rye at a loss for words, but it looks like I've finally rendered my brother mute. His narrowed frown and the long silence that ensues have my thighs twitching as my fingers curl in on themselves, my thumbnails pressing into my flesh. I can pretty much see the wheels turning in his head as he processes the news, but his silence causes me to shift uncomfortably in my seat.

Clearing my throat, I eventually ask, "Is that a problem for you?"

Rye's eyebrows suddenly shoot up. "A problem? What are you—shit, Peter, what is that supposed to mean?"

I forgo the words of doubt I want to speak and let my hard stare do all the talking.

"What do you think we'll do, take her away? And do what exactly?" Rye asks, hurt in his voice from my unspoken accusation. "You think we'll toss her in a lab like some sort of experiment? I'm your damn brother! And based on what you just confessed, a soon-to-be uncle!" The sudden smile that stretches his face has an instant effect, setting me at ease. Just a bit. "No one is separating the two of you, they'd have to get through me first."

Rye absently rubs a hand across the blond stubble of his jaw as his gaze shifts beyond me. It's still a little strange seeing him with scruff. On the ships, there was a strict clean-face policy. Unless you were the president of course or one of his higher-ups. A status symbol of sorts. Looks like my brother's band of rebels is starting a new trend.

"So it's possible, then?" he asks. "Us and them? Together?"

"You heard Haymitch's story."

"Yeah well, that doesn't mean I was about to take everything he said as the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't immaculate conception," I deadpan and my brother snorts, rubbing a hand across his chin.

"Damn, we Mellarks must have some potent swimmers."

I just shake my head, unable to fight back a smile. Of all the things I can count on in this universe, its Rye's ability to insert crude humor into almost anything and everything. With the tension in the air diffused, I feel as though I can finally breathe and let my guard down.

Studying my brother, I take note of the faint lines between his brows and along his forehead. Only two years separate us, but it looks like the past few months have taken more of a toll on him than me. We have a lot to catch up on, that's for sure.

"Well, as I said, you can stop worrying," Rye continues, his face turning serious. "You're safe here. You're the only family I have left." But then the corner of his mouth lifts again. "Well, you and Junior that is. I still can't believe it. Way to go, little brother." The balled-up protein wrapper he's been toying with this whole time goes sailing through the air and hits me smack dab in the middle of the forehead.

I don't feel an ounce of guilt when my foot somehow finds his shin—hard—before I push myself up onto my feet. Suddenly recalling my hunger, I find myself en route to where I'm pretty sure some extra protein bars are stashed away. Despite their less-than-ideal texture, there's still something comforting about them. But I also can't hold back my grin when I find Rye still chuckling to himself as he settles back onto the bench. After finding something palatable, I rejoin him at the table.

"Katniss is your family now too, you know."

He's quiet as he watches me unwrap my snack, his thoughtful expression causing his brow to furrow. "I guess you're right. About this whole…mate…thing. I'm assuming that's their equivalent status to marriage?"

I answer with a nod as I bite into my protein bar. Mmmmm. Just as bland yet satisfying as I remember.

"Good to know," he says with a nod of his own. "So, what's the plan then?"

"Hell if I know."

A prolonged silence settles between us again, each lost in our own thoughts. By the time I swallow back the last bite, I feel as though I'm finally ready to ask the one question we both know I've been avoiding.

Clearing my throat, I clasp my hands together on the tabletop and stare at them. "Tell me what happened to them." There's no preamble needed between us, my brother knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"What more is there to say?" I glance up to find the long, hard look he sends me before he continues. "Mom made her choice and Dad would never let her go alone."

"And Emmer?"

"There was no talking him out of it, not when the love of his life was already aboard one of the ships bound for DIST-4."

The moment he became eligible, Emmerson had signed himself up for the matchmaking program. If a ship's population was running low or they needed to introduce some new blood into the gene pool, those signed up for the program were selected from other ships and paired off with their most compatible genetic match. I can't imagine what my eldest brother went through. To finally be paired up but then have your entire future taken away in an instant? I can't blame him for the choice he made.

"And you?" I ask.

"After they shipped all you Tributes off, things began to change. Some idiot out of the Capitol thought it would be a brilliant idea to broadcast the aerial footage of the Tributes, turn you all into some sort of entertainment to boost morale amongst the ships."

"Footage? What are you talking about?"

Rye frowns. "You know those drones that deployed when you landed? One was programmed to follow you in case you lost communication with the ships. Which is of course what happened right from the get-go, but then something…else, happened." He gives me an awkward look before taking a sip from his canteen.

Shit. The burn in my cheeks is almost instant, along with the churning of my stomach. What the hell kind of footage did they broadcast? What did everyone see? Any time I was outside the cave would have been fair game, and there were definitely some moments of a more private nature.

"Something was up with your drone," Rye continues. "For some reason, it couldn't keep track of you, only relaying a handful of clips throughout the first day. The last shot they had of you was after some animal was about to attack you. After that, well, they assumed the worst."

I piece it all together almost instantly. What they thought was some ferocious animal attacking me was actually Katniss. Dressed in a huge fur and of course with her antlers, who knows what they saw in the footage. Going into this, I know I wasn't ranked the lowest for survival, but still. Did most of them assume I wouldn't make it past the first day?

"Wait, what about the tracker?" I ask as my fingers brush against the raised scar on my forearm. "Why did everyone think I was dead?"

"It was only relaying back your location, no vitals. They all assumed that whatever attacked you…well, you know."

Yeah, I know. They all thought I'd been eaten alive. And then expelled. Great. Not exactly the dignified departure I'd pictured for myself.

Rye stands and rummages through an overhead cabinet before returning with another canteen. When he unscrews the lid, the waft I get of what the old-timers on the ship called "moonshine" has my eyes watering. I guess it's about time we pulled out the heavy stuff.

"Compared to the rest of the Tributes, you were actually kind of boring those first few hours." Rye settles back on the bench but then his face hardens. "But I couldn't just sit back and accept the assumption that my own brother had died for such an honorable cause. The turning point for the rebellion was when the Capitol tried to turn the broadcast footage of the Tributes into some sort of historical game show, ranking the tributes and even going so far as allowing legitimate betting to happen. It was crazy, and it's what made me finally decide to join the rebellion. After that, there wasn't much to do really but wait. And you know how much I love waiting."

His grin seems a little forced, but I can tell he's filtering through his thoughts. Trying to decide what to share with me, not that the details really matter at this point. Maybe that story will be for another day.

"Fortunately we didn't have to wait very long," he continues. "After about two weeks of broadcasting that spectacle, President Snow made his decision. Didn't even wait the full three weeks that you'd all been promised, not that it mattered. There were no survivors on any of the other planets. And well, you know the rest. When we finally landed here, Commander Paylor made it my mission to find you and bring you back."

"But how'd you know I was still alive?"

"Your ident tag, remember? Someone had the brilliant idea to activate them all after the fleet split up. Low and behold, your signal came in loud and clear."

"If you all thought I was dead, how did you know it was me? Could have been anyone or anything that found my ident tag."

"You of all people should know how much the Capitol loved spying on everyone." When it's obvious I'm still not following him, Rye rolls his eyes. "As soon as your signal popped up, we programmed one of the drones to track you down. The moment the first images of you alive and whole came in, the Commander set our course to DIST-12 the very same hour."

I shake my head in disbelief. "But I never saw a drone. As quiet as they are, I'd have known if we were being followed." If what he's saying is true—my cheeks heat again. What the hell did they witness this time?

"Don't worry, the moment we confirmed you were alive, I made sure they stopped tracking you. Just wasn't right. We could easily hunt you down with the ident tag. No need to creep on the two of you while you were unaware. The hardest thing of course was the waiting, and you know how much I love—"

"Yeah, yeah, love waiting." Speaking of waiting…"What about the remaining ships?"

"Still up there," Rye says, pointing a finger up towards the sky. "Holding tight for further direction from the Commander."

"And…what if I don't want to go back with you? To the Commander?"

Rye seems startled. "Not go back? And do what instead, live out here in complete isolation from your own people and hers?"

"I won't put Katniss in danger, so don't you dare ask me to."

With a resigned sigh, Rye runs a hand through his hair. "Where would you go then?"

"We had a—" the word cave almost slips from my lips but something stops me. It's not that I don't trust my brother, but the cave is not my secret to reveal. "We had a place, away from the village. If we go back, I think Katniss would want to return there. Asking her to live with her herd again is out of the question. There's too much pain and history there."

Rye nods. "Haymitch said as much, told us what happened to her sister and all those other kids. It's fucked up, but looks like our leaders weren't all that different after all." He forces out a heavy breath. "But that's all about to change. The old man said our arrival couldn't have been better timed, that the next…what do they call it again?"

"Reaping," I supply absently, my thoughts still swirling on how Katniss will react to all of this.

"Right, the next reaping is only a few days away. I understand if you don't want to get involved, but we could really use you during initial introductions and then negotiations."

That draws my attention back front and center. "Negotiations? Why does that sound so…sinister?"

"Fine, peace talks, whatever you want to call them. But there's so much to discuss. Where our people are going to start our settlement. How we can all help each other out. And most importantly, set the tone on how things between us and them will be."

"And what exactly will that tone be?"

"Damn it, Peter…oh sorry, Peeta," he corrects with a smirk, leaning onto the table with his elbows. "Now you're just grasping at things to worry about."

"Am not, and you'd be worried too if you were in my position."

"How many times do I have to tell you? The last thing Commander Paylor wants is a war. A war benefits no one. Those who thought otherwise are already fish food on DIST-4." Rye shudders and takes another swig from his canteen. "You should have seen those things. That poor kid didn't stand a chance, she had a target on her the moment she stepped out of her POD. Had no idea the creatures in the water would bother to pursue her on land."

Only the Capitol would think airing our death's over a live stream vid would pass as entertainment. I try to remember the face of the tribute for DIST-4 but come up blank. "How long did she last?"

"No more than a week, but that was long enough to convince Snow. From what I heard there was no swaying his decision once he made his choice."

A part of me wonders about the fate of the other tributes, like the young, quiet girl selected for DIST-8 or the cocky meathead destined for DIST-1. I'm sure I could find the footage now that my info pad has synced up with the ship but just the thought feels wrong and makes my stomach churn. Each and every one of their deaths was an unnecessary loss. With our technology, we could have easily gathered whatever information we needed about any habitual planet we came across with drones. But that's not how the Capitol saw it. No, to them our technology was precious and finite, but us? No, we were expendable.

I'm so lost in the tragedy of it all that it takes my brother nudging my foot to get my attention.

"Hmmm?" I say, thankful for the interruption before my thoughts went down a dark, dark path.

"I want to show you something." Rye reaches below the table but what he places gently, almost reverently, on the tabletop has my heart jumping into my throat. Swallowing thickly, I lean forward in disbelief.

"Is that…" I trail off, pulling the package from the box.

It's an old thing, a relic really, made of parchment and leather. Started by a baker on my father's side of the family decades ago. The book is comprised of page after page of recipes and ingredients, some with names so exotic I can only imagine their taste. I have childhood memories of flipping through it when my parents were out, mesmerized by the faded photos and sketches that accompanied the recipes. Seeing it now, I'm tempted to add to the book and keep the tradition alive with the food and ingredients I've learned from my time with Katniss.

"They left in such a hurry, all they took with them were the clothes on their backs," Rye says in a voice I know he's fighting to keep steady. Glancing over, I find him still staring into the metal box that has housed the recipe book for generations. "This is all we have left from our Earth ancestors. I couldn't just leave it behind."

After flipping through a few more pages, I thumb my way back to the front of the book. It's there I find the Mellark family tree. Scrawled across pages are the names and dates of births and unions going back over ten generations. Looking at it now feels surreal. And knowing that I'm continuing our own family tree when countless others ended so abruptly? I can't ignore the twinge of guilt, but in a way it's humbling.

We've been granted a chance at a new life on this world. It'd be selfish for Katniss and me to ignore it, especially when we have so much to share with our people. If anything, we could be a symbol. A symbol of hope. Hope that our two peoples can coexist in peace and for the betterment of all our lives.

As though he can read my thoughts, Rye leans back and smiles. "I knew you'd eventually come around."

I shake my head and carefully close the cover of our family's legacy. "I haven't agreed to anything yet. But regardless, looks like there's a lot of work ahead of us."

"That may be the case, but we won't be doing it alone."

We talk late into the night about anything and everything. His involvement with the rebels. How it didn't take much to sway those left on the ship to follow Paylor after Snow led the rest of the fleet to their imminent deaths. How he and his motley crew bonded over the fact that they all lost their families thanks to the Capitol. How he soon found himself appointed as a representative of Panem-12 thanks to his association with me. And his "winning" personality, of course. His words, not mine.

Before I know it, I'm stifling a yawn with the back of my hand and Rye just shakes his head. "Get some sleep," he says, swiping my empty protein wrappers off the table and crumpling them in his hand.

I bid him a good night, and make my way back to our room where I find Katniss still fast asleep, the bedsheet a tangled mess around her. After locking us in for the night, I strip everything off, suddenly eager to feel my mate in my arms, skin on skin. It's something I've missed for so long, being wrapped in each other's arms with nothing between us.

She doesn't rouse when I slowly climb into bed and carefully rearrange her limbs so I can tuck in behind her. It's when I pull her close that she finally comes to with a deep inhale.

"Peeta?" she whispers. Her voice is rough with sleep as she pulls my arm tight around her. She threads our fingers together, eventually tucking my hand under her chin. "Can you not sleep?"

I squeeze her fingers and pull her closer. "I think I can now."

Her only response is a sleepy sigh and I smile to myself as I breathe her in deep. And I think I can now finally fall asleep, thanks to my chat with Rye. As I said to my brother, I know there's a lot of work ahead of us, but I'm not promising anything to anyone until Katniss and I have a serious heart-to-heart.

I allow my muscles to relax and my eyes to finally shut, and before I know it, sleep claims me. This time, the nightmares stay at bay.

The next morning, a bleary-eyed Rye gives us the official grand tour of the hovercraft. His slow movements make me wonder if he got any sleep himself. Regardless, he takes the time to show Katniss what's behind each door, the things she shouldn't touch for her own safety, as well as all the gadgets this place has to offer. But of course, it's the ones in the canteen that fascinate her the most. At Rye's insistence, we also spend time getting to know the rest of the crew. A rag-tag team called Squad 451 but who refer to themselves as the Star Squad.

I'm a little surprised when Katniss seems to hit it off with Pollux, despite their initial introduction. Enough so that she eventually agrees to an examination to put my worries at ease.

We meet up in the med room after lunch, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little hesitant when I scan the room, the bright lights and sterile walls all too familiar from the turning point of my childhood. But I need to be strong for Katniss, show her there's nothing to fear about all the foreign contraptions strewn about the room.

To help ease her concerns, I volunteer for a scan of my thigh to see how my wound has healed. Katniss is fascinated by the images that show up on the screens and Pollux is pleasantly surprised at how well it's healed and the minimal amount of scarring. There's a shy pride that radiates off Katniss when Pollux smiles and gestures for her to explain what it is she did exactly to treat my wound. There's a promise of a later discussion when Katniss says she'll show Pollux what healing herbs we have so he can add them to his database.

When it's her turn, a quick body scan and finger prick for a blood sample indicate she's generally healthy, nothing that a basic vitamin shot won't fix. I'm curious if there's anything…different that shows up on the scans, besides the obvious physical presence of antlers and ear shape. There's a little more back and forth between Pollux and me with respect to communication, but with the help of his info pad, we're able to fill in the gaps.

Katniss agrees to a more thorough scan and evaluation, after hearing that Haymitch has already agreed to one as well. It makes me a little uncomfortable, but it's to be expected, curious minds and all in the name of science. Knowing that Katniss is alright, my worries shift to our little one and I'm not sure how to broach the subject with Pollux. I get a sense that he knows something is up when he keeps going back to the results of her blood scan, but it's the rise of his eyebrows that confirms it when he looks between me and Katniss's middle.

With a sigh, I give him an affirming nod. His beaming smile, followed by a questioning look and a gesture towards the screens, sets me a little at ease but Katniss catches the exchange and asks what's going on. When I explain to her that the scanner would allow us to "see" our little one, she's taken aback. What I initially mistake as hesitation and suspicion, are actually wonder and eagerness. She's full of questions as I explain to her the best I can what information we can gather from the scans. Before I know it, she's starting to strip in front of us and I put a stop to it as Pollux suddenly turns his back, the pink of his cheeks impossible to miss.

After explaining that she only needs to expose her middle, Katniss lies back on the med bed and holds tight to my hand, squeezing the life out of it as I whisper reassurances into her ear. I finish adjusting the borrowed shirt she's wearing when the doors to the med bay swish open and Rye comes strolling in like he owns the place.

Come to think of it, I guess he does.

"Did I miss anything yet?"

"What the hell, Rye!" I shoot my brother a pissy look, but he snorts at my response. "Ever heard of privacy?"

"What? I want to see baby Mellark as much as you do." He saunters over to the other side of the med bed and takes hold of Katniss's free hand. "Hey sis, you ready? We gonna find out the gender or are we leaving that as a surprise?"

I'm about to admonish him for his pushiness, but the look Katniss gives him makes me stop short. And I have to hand it to him, Rye does have a knack for putting people at ease with his casual, carefree attitude.

The wonder on Katniss's face as she looks at me, so full of hope and awe, clenches my heart. "We can see if it is a male or a female?"

"I think so," I answer, but look to Pollux for confirmation.

He nods and then signs something to Rye. "He says he's pretty certain we can find out. I'm assuming with our physiologies being similar enough, it shouldn't be a problem."

I turn to Katniss. "I'm up for it if you are."

Katniss tilts her head to the side ever so slightly as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth. I know she's thinking long and hard about this given her telltale signs, but a few seconds later, she gives me a hard nod. "Yes, I want to know."

Pollux clears his throat and motions to me. I hold out my hand and he squeezes a cool gel into my waiting palm. I reluctantly let go of Katniss's hand but I want to make this as comfortable for her as possible and so I warm the gel between my hands before spreading a thick layer all over her stomach.

She still shivers from my touch, but I think it's nerves more than anything. I try to hide my own shaking as I wipe the excess gel off with a towel that Pollux hands me. After taking hold of Katniss's hand once again, I release a tense sigh and we all look to Pollux in anticipation.

He turns on the scanner and one of the screens on the opposite wall flickers to life. I find myself holding my breath as he positions the scanner low on Katniss's rounded belly. The second he does, a rhythmic whooshing sound fills the room, and a line on the screen pulses with it.

With wide eyes, Katniss looks at me and then Pollux. He taps the beat out on his chest and grins.

"That's our little one," I say, unable to keep from beaming at the sound. "It's their heartbeat."

"It is strong," she says as she squeezes my hand tight.

"Sure is," Rye agrees. "Now let's see this little guy."

Pollux starts moving the scanner slowly back and forth across Katniss's belly and as he does, a three-dimensional image starts to appear on another screen. I have no words to describe what I'm seeing. A little being, with ten little fingers and ten little toes. A snub nose prominent between high cheekbones and what I can tell will already grow into a stubborn little chin. At this moment, I've never felt so proud and yet so helpless in my life.

What if I'm not cut out for this? What if when the time comes, I have no idea what I'm doing? I give my head a good shake. I'm not going to let thoughts of my inadequacies taint this moment.

Overall, our baby is bigger than I expected which means Katniss must be tracking further along than we thought, more in line with the timeline of her people. I can't seem to find any distinguishing features to indicate our baby's mixed heritage, but there appears to be a certain something missing that has me wondering.

I catch Pollux signing something to Rye who then looks between Katniss and me with the biggest grin I've ever seen. "Well, I stand corrected, seems we're looking at a healthy baby girl!"

My mind goes straight to the image of a miniature Katniss. The spitting image of her mother but with two braids instead of one. Trailing on her mother's heels through the trees like a shadow with a tiny bow and quiver full of arrows slung across her back.

"She's perfect," is all I can manage to say. Katniss is at a loss for words, but her glassy eyes and bottom lip curled between her teeth speak volumes.

Rye releases Katniss and moves off to the side to chat with Pollux, giving us a much-needed moment alone. I lean down and press my forehead against hers, my eyes falling shut as I press a kiss to our entwined hands. We stay that way for a while, both of us content to just listen to our baby girl's heartbeat still beating in the background, strong and steady.

"I have no words," Katniss finally whispers, a hint of a tremor in her voice.

"It's a lot to take in. But Pollux says she's healthy, and we're going to stay here, where it's safe until she arrives. Sound like a plan?"

Katniss nods but I can sense the excitement mixed with her uncertainty, probably because it mirrors my own. We're both well aware of what else is looming in the very near future. After a few quiet moments together, Rye eventually returns with Pollux and at least one of us can't seem to contain their excitement.

"So I know we still have time before we have to get into all the little details about how my niece will be welcomed into this world, but one important detail Pollux wants to know beforehand is…" He glances to the top of Katniss's head and clears his throat. "Antlers, when should we expect those?"

Katniss gives my brother a blank stare. Blowing out a long breath, I answer instead. "Not antlers, crown, they call them their crown."

Understanding crosses Katniss's face and she nods. "Fawns are not born with their crown. They come when the fawn is in their third annum."

"Well that's a relief," Rye says with a chuckle, patting Pollux on the shoulder. "Should make things go a little smoother if you know what I mean."

I roll my eyes but can't help but acknowledge their relief. We'd all be out of our element if that wasn't the case. Admittedly, I feel more comfortable about the whole thing, knowing the birth won't be totally new territory for Pollux.

Katniss shakes her head as though we're a bunch of misbehaving children and mutters under her breath. "Males."

As I wipe the gel off Katniss's belly, Pollux saves the images along with an audio file to a secure database, which means we can download them to my info pad later. Rye swears over and over that we're the only ones who can access the files and to, of course…stop worrying. We'll break the news to the others when we're ready.

After a quick trip back to the room where Katniss has a shower and changes into some fresh clothes, we find ourselves back in the canteen in search of yet another snack for my insatiable mate. I offer to accompany Rye and the crew to the bridge so we could get our initial introduction to Commander Paylor over with, but Rye thinks it best to hold off for a bit longer.

Katniss is seated at one of the tables, her head bowed over the screen of the info pad as she scrolls through the images of our little one.

"She has your nose," Katniss says.

"Poor girl," I tease before adding a package of spices to a bowl of noodles that my mate has taken an immediate liking to. Upon delivery of her snack, the sheer conflict on her face has me chuckling. "You can still look through the images while you eat," I suggest.

She makes quick work of the noodles, and just as she's tipping back every last drop in her bowl, the canteen door slides open. In walks Haymitch, looking oddly more put together than when we last saw him, but his discomfort is plain as day as he pulls the collar of his shirt away from his neck.

"There you are," Katniss manages as she wipes her mouth clean with her sleeve. "Where have you been?"

Haymitch responds with a non-descriptive grunt and then settles down next to Katniss. He peers over at the screen and arches a brow.

Sliding the info pad over, Katniss starts swiping through the images. "Look, this is our little one."

With wide eyes, Haymitch takes it all in, leaning in closer to study the images. It might not be obvious from the slight upturn of his lips, but it's the glassiness of his eyes that says he's struggling to hold his composure. When Katniss plays back the recording of our little one's heartbeat and tells him it's a female, that's what pushes him over the edge. His shaky intake of breath as he closes his eyes is what causes Katniss to swallow hard. What a pair they make. Both too stubborn to show their emotions on their sleeves.

I shake my head as I collect up the dirty dishes and then set on cleaning up the mess we've made, allowing the two a moment to collect themselves.

"So what's my brother up to?" I eventually ask over my shoulder.

Haymitch clears his throat. "He and the crew are still on the bridge. They have been there for hours, but I was not invited this time to speak with the Commander."

With an absent nod, I put away the dishes. But the mention of the world outside the bubble we've created here has my stomach in knots. The guilt I've been repressing thanks to our constant struggle at survival is creeping back in. I still don't know what the plan is. What Rye and Commander Paylor discuss during these meetings. What role they assume I'll play in the greater scheme of things. Rye said to wait this out a bit, but the reaping should be any day now. What the hell are they waiting for?

Leaning back against the counter, I turn my attention back to Katniss and Haymitch who have been surprisingly quiet this whole time. Katniss's lips are set in a thin line, her brow furrowed as she contemplates something.

"What is it?" I ask.

She switches off the info pad and pushes it away to the center of the table. "I cannot help but feel guilty."

"Guilty? Why?"

With a huff, Katniss crosses her arms and frowns. "Here we are, all of us together and happy and safe…but what of all that is happening around us? The reaping? My herd? Your people? What will become of them?"

Haymitch shakes his head. "No amount of guilt or worry can change what the future holds. Do not dwell on such feelings, no good can come from them. The best we can do is learn from our past and from our mistakes. Set your sight on the kind of world you wish to raise your little one. That is your focus."

"And what about all the rest?" I ask, my skepticism matching that which is written all over Katniss's face. "Are we to just assume everything will miraculously fall into place? That we won't be expected to play a role in this somehow?"

Haymitch snorts. "Of course you will, but the two of you have been through enough. Remember, you are not alone anymore. We are here to help. The fate of our future does not have to be carried by a pair of star-crossed lovers."

Pushing away from the counter, I settle back on the bench at the table. "I want to believe you, but I don't think I'll feel settled until I speak with Commander Paylor herself. No offense."

"None taken."

"How can I trust a female I have not yet met?" Katniss says. "Who I have not yet been able to look into the eyes to see for myself if her heart is true?"

"You will get your chance," Haymitch says before I can voice my agreement. "I have spoken with this Commander and I believe her words to be true. Their people," he pauses and then grunts before continuing, "our people, have lost so much. Yes, they are weary, and rightfully so, but the survivors do not want to fight. They want to make a new home here, and they will need our help."

Katniss looks to me for reassurance, and I respond with a tight-lipped smile.

"You say we should learn from our past," Katniss says, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table. "But to do that, we ourselves must know the truth of it. The whole truth."

Haymitch sighs, but then nods. "What is it you wish to know?"

"What happened to Alma?"

"Which one? Commander Alma or her daughter?"

"The daughter. Why did she leave the herd?"

Just as Haymitch is about to answer, the door to the canteen slides open and this time it's Rye who has decided to grace us with his presence.

"What'd I miss?" he asks as he makes a beeline to the shelves and rummages through the boxes of rations. I'm about to make a quip about making a mess after I just cleaned up, but when he brings over a cup of tea and slides it over to Katniss along with another protein bar, I bit my lip.

"Haymitch was about to tell us what happened with Alma," I offer, collecting up the wrappers. "Not Commander Alma, but her daughter. The one who currently leads a band of hunters on the outskirts of the village."

Rye shoulders up against the wall and slides a curious look to Haymitch. "Is she going to be a problem for us?"

"It depends," Haymitch answers with a shrug. "She is known to be unpredictable but she can be reasoned with…with the right motivation."

"As we grew older," he continues, crossing his arms over his chest, "Alma became a great hunter and a cunning strategist. Her view of our world and the ways of the village was different from most. And for good reason, given her mother. Many of the young hunters were drawn to her and her ideas for change, and soon she had gathered a group of trusted hunters. After her mother died, Alma sought your father and me out as she wanted us to join her in her plans to remove the elders and take control of the village for herself. But we did not agree with her tactics. Eventually, she revealed to us the truth of where we came from, hoping it would win us over to her cause.

"I did not believe her at first, thinking she had truly gone mad in her desperation that she would weave such a tale. Jax, though…he believed her, although all they ever did was argue. He said her plans were foolish and rash, that her thirst for bloodshed was not the answer to bring about the change we knew was needed. He said there had to be answers elsewhere, beyond the Tundar. That we should focus more on finding the truth of where we came from.

"We always knew there was something different about us, and I knew your father wanted to find the truth. I believe he died trying to find it, hoping that it would save the village from the reaping. Alma though was always too arrogant and impatient, and look at where her actions have led them. Living on the fringes of the herd and no better than Avoxes themselves."

"What did they do exactly, to become outcasts?" Rye asks.

There are obviously major gaps in the story for my brother, but I know he's trying to absorb all he can if these are the types of people we'll have to deal with while trying to make a go at settling this planet. I guess there's the option of just settling somewhere else, far away from the village. But we can't ignore the fact that we've already made a connection with the herd and fate seems to have already intertwined our two peoples.

"They did what all young hunters do when they are filled with too much pride and urgency, they underestimated the elders. They were foolish to think the elders did not know about their plan to overthrow them, to think they would stand by meekly and let Alma remove them from leadership without a fight. That the rest of the herd would side with them and follow them blindly without knowing their intentions."

"All of you and your secrets." Katniss scoffs and sits up, adjusting her shirt over her rounded belly. "Too many innocent lives have been lost all because of secrets."

And just like that, the tension between Katniss and Haymitch has returned. The tense stare between the two of them even has Rye retreating to the sink to refill the canteen. I consider joining him to let them hash things out, but Katniss reaches over and grips my hand, holding me in place.

"If our identities or the truth of our ancestors were made known, do you honestly think the elders would have accepted us into the herd?" Haymitch asks, a harsh edge to his voice. "It would have meant immediate death for us. You of all should understand that."

But then he shakes his head. "It does us no good to dwell on the past. Soon enough all secrets will be revealed, and we must be there to face what comes of it. No matter the consequence."

All this talk of the past has my mind back to trying to process how any of this is possible. How we're all connected on some crazy cosmic level, one I never would have guessed in a million years. But as much as we've come to know about space travel, there are still so many mysteries we've only just begun to scratch the surface of. Just because something seems impossible or improbable to me, doesn't mean shit to the universe.

"There are never just two sides to anything," I say eventually say, knowing the words aren't exactly what Katniss wants to hear. But it had to be said. Arguing about what happened in the past isn't helping anyone. We need to focus on the future and what our future will look like.

And damn. I sound just like Rye.

Talking about secrets and consequences only weighs heavier on my conscience. Whatever Commander Paylor has to say, we have to hear her out. We can't be bystanders in this anymore. We deserve to have our voices heard.

Thinking back to what Rye said earlier, I know he's right. There's a lot riding on our participation in how we shape this new world of ours. It's a weird feeling. This power of influence. We have a kind of power I never would have dreamed we'd possess. But do I want it? The pull to do the right thing is strong, but so is the pull to be selfish and focus on our growing family. Is there a middle ground? Can we balance the demands of both roles without losing ourselves? Without letting the weight of the world we're trying to build overwhelm us?

Looking at Katniss, she must sense my internal conflict and how much I'm struggling. A silent understanding passes between us, and with a decisive sigh, she places a hand over our little one and nods. She's made her position quite clear.

We do this, not just for us, but for our daughter.

The face on the screen looks younger than I expected. Early thirties. Dark brown eyes and a serious face. But there's an authoritative tone to her voice, one that catches my attention and for some reason, makes me stand a little straighter as I shift my weight between my feet.

She looks over to Rye and nods. "Seems you found what you were looking for, Captain Mellark."

Rye just laughs and reaches over to give my shoulder a squeeze. "I sure did. And then some."

"Commander Paylor," I say, stepping forward to stand at ease before her. I lift my chin and stand as tall as I can. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"My sentiment as well. Glad to see you're alive and well. For a while there, we weren't sure."

I nod in response. "There were a few times I wasn't sure myself." Her features soften for a fraction of a second, the corner of her mouth lifting.

"I don't doubt it. It seems you've had quite the adventure, Cadet Mellark. Or can I call you Peter?"

Rye's laughter fills the room again and I can just imagine the look he's giving her behind my back.

I clear my throat. "Actually, I'd prefer Peeta."

Thankfully Commander Paylor doesn't seem all too phased by my recent name change and she acknowledges with a curt nod. "Well then, Peeta, it seems we've found ourselves in quite the situation."

"It seems we have. My brother has informed me of our position. However, it seems he left out a few key details, which is why I have some questions."

"I bet he did." Commander Paylor chuckles, and I find myself a little taken off guard by it. "And I'd be concerned if you didn't have questions. However, I must apologize in advance as I'll be needed shortly to attend to matters with the other ships. As you can imagine, we have quite a lot of citizens eager and ready to depart the ships and start their new lives planet side. For now, what is your most pressing concern?"

Well that's easy. "To be blunt? What's the plan?"

Commander Paylor gives me a stiff nod as though she's expected as much. "We've formed a council to represent the interests of our people, and with the help of our new friend Haymitch, we've drafted up a plan to approach the village which we hope will lead to a peaceful introduction and set the tone for future interactions. But we decided it is only right for you and your companion to also hold seats on this council, to represent your generation from both parties."

As if seeking her out, Commander Paylor looks about the room, no doubt in search of my "companion". "Her name is Katniss."

"Yes, Katniss. I was hoping to meet her today as well."

"She sends her apologies, but she's still recovering from our journey. I hope you understand."

Truth is, I didn't want to chance it. Katniss thinks I'm being paranoid, but I was worried Commander Paylor would take one look at her and figure out she's pregnant. Thankfully both Rye and Haymitch backed me up on this one.

"I understand," the Commander says with a nod. "Perhaps next time. But back to the plan, I will forward the specifics ASAP. If you have any questions or recommendations after your review, I would be more than happy to discuss them further. But as I'm sure you're aware, time is of the essence as we plan to make first contact with the village in two days' time. It is of the utmost importance that we set a good precedent. The last thing we want is either people viewing the other as the enemy. Unity is essential for our survival."

Commander Paylor is watching me closely, no doubt ready to judge the next words that come out of my mouth. Waiting to see the stuff I'm made of, and most importantly, if she can count on me to support whatever it is they have planned. It's a miracle they can't hear the pounding of my heart, but it's pounding in my ears as I survey the conflicted faces surrounding me.

I can't commit just yet, even with so many eager eyes on me. So I clear my throat and decide to just tell the truth. "Commander, thank you for the opportunity to allow us to play a part in our future here. However, I'll have to get back to you."

Silence fills the room and the choking sound behind me has me glancing over my shoulder. If this wasn't such a serious moment, the look on Rye's face would be comical. I can see it in his eyes. Are you honestly putting the Commander on hold?

My attention returns to the view screen and I study Commander Paylor's face. I see nothing but calm confidence in her expression which earns her a bit more of my respect. Because of that, she deserves to know my reasons. I clear my throat before explaining myself. "It wouldn't be right for me to agree without consulting my mate first. You see, it's just not me you're asking for help. Katniss and I, we're a team."

Commander Paylor gives a curt nod. "Understandable. Please keep me posted, and I look forward to hearing from you both. When you're ready, Rye knows how to reach me. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Peeta."

The moment the transmission ends, there's a shove to my shoulder and I react with a jab of my elbow, hoping it connects with Rye's ribs. "You got some balls, you know that? Telling the Commander you'll get back to her? Power play right there."

"Whatever you say," I answer, loosening the top button of my coveralls. The bands of tension around my chest loosen a fraction and I can breathe again.

Just as I turn to leave the bridge, Rye tugs at my elbow. "You have every right to turn her down, but Peeta? Use your brain if you have one."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," I quip. Turning back to Rye, I give him a reassuring nod and then make my way back to our room. Along the way, I hear the sound of an incoming message on my new communicuff. Commander Paylor sure doesn't waste any time.

For the first time though, there's a plan. A plan that isn't motivated by the need for flight and evasion. If I were making an individual choice, it'd be an easy one, no questions asked. But it's not an individual choice, this final decision isn't up to me.

Back in our room, I find Katniss perched on the edge of the bed as she works her hair into a braid over her shoulder. The overhead lights are off, which means the only source of light comes from the bathroom. There's a hint of steam wafting out of the open doorway which means she must have had a nice long shower while she waited.

She sits up, her brows drawn with wary curiosity. "How did it go?"

When the door to our room slides shut, I don't hesitate to shrug out of my coveralls and toss them into the corner. "I think it went well," I answer as I make my way to the bed and flop down onto my back. "She's eager to meet you, but understood the reason for your absence."

"And?" When I don't answer immediately, Katniss narrows her gaze and presses her lips together. Then in a blink of an eye, she's on top of me, straddling me at the waist. "What happened?"

As she leans over me, her eyes full of passion but rimmed with a hint of mischief, my hands fit her sides and I capture her in place. My ident tag swings like a pendulum in the space between us, the polished metal glinting from the glow of the bathroom light.

I reach up and grab a hold of it, taking a moment to run the pad of my thumb over the inscription on the back. The truth shall set you free. There was a lot of talk about truth and secrets and consequences earlier today.

Glancing up, I find Katniss staring down at me. "I don't think I told you before, but these words are from an ancient religious Earth text."

Katniss looks down at the scribble of words and at that moment, I realize I want to teach her to read. "And what do the words mean?" she asks with genuine curiosity.

It's a good question. My initial take on it back in the cave was from a purely academic standpoint, as coincidentally relatable as it was to our situation at the time. Where gaining new knowledge—the truth of science—was the key to setting Katniss's people free from the chains of their society.

The more I think about it now though, I think there's another, deeper meaning to the phrase. I begin to muse aloud as Katniss rests more comfortably atop me, resting her head in the crook of my neck.

"It says the truth shall set you free. I'm not sure of the original context, but to me, I feel like it means that being honest—and I don't mean just to others, but to yourself especially—is freeing. That being true to yourself, is freeing. That if we allow truth and honesty to lead us through the difficult decisions in our lives that it'll get us to where we're heading. But the truth isn't always easy to hear. And we both know it can be damn hard to accept at times. There can be consequences. But you know what? We learn from it. If we instead choose to lie to ourselves, how can we ever move forward? Or learn from our mistakes if we don't acknowledge them? So in a way, I think truth can also ease our suffering."

I realize I've been rambling and if I've completely lost Katniss along the way, she doesn't show any sign of it. Instead, her hand traces a lazy arc back and forth along my ribs as we lie in silence. I'm about to apologize for my nonsense babbling when Katniss lifts her head and traps me with her intense gaze.

"If that is what you believe," she murmurs and then pauses to place a soft kiss on my chest. "Then you are my truth, and you have set me free."

At first, I'm confused, wondering if she misunderstood me. But it's the look in her eyes that makes me understand. I am her truth. I ease her suffering. I have set her free.

"You know what? I like your take on it better," I say, pulling her lithe body back on top of me and unable to keep from smiling at this remarkable woman. My mate. My beautiful and insightful mate.

My truth.

So after, when Katniss is tucked close against my side, satiated and content, I tilt her chin up so our eyes meet. I already know her answer, but I ask her anyway.

"You ready for another adventure?" I whisper, brushing the hair off her forehead.

Katniss is quiet. But then she mirrors my motions, reaching up to trace the side of my face and smoothing her fingertips over my skin. A breath later she nods.

"Together?" she asks.

I catch her hand as it ghosts past my mouth and press it against my lips.

"Always."

Well, folks, that's technically a wrap for this one! Thank you to everyone who came along for this crazy adventure and stuck with me through my unfortunate dry periods, so never say never when it comes to some WIPs I do plan to someday get an epilogue posted but I can't guarantee when that will be, so we'll just say this story is complete for now. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter or the story as a whole, it was my first ever world-building project and so I hope you all enjoyed it!

Shout out to louezem and deinde-prandium for being an extra set of eyes on this chapter and providing sage advice when I was struggling with this story. They are both amazing authors themselves so if you haven't already, I highly recommend making your way through their works!

Fun Facts:

- Deer aren't born with a base for antlers, which is called a pedicle which is of course where the antlers attach to the skull. The pedicle has to grow enough to support the antlers, so in this world, I like to think antlers would start to form when fawns start losing their baby teeth, so around 5 or 6. I like to think their first pair of antlers also aren't "true" antlers yet but rather a smaller and softer version of what's to come.

- At the start of growth, antlers have a high water and protein content and eventually are covered with velvet which supplies blood vessels that supply oxygen and nutrients to the antlers. They obviously grow very fast, and inch or two per week, starting as cartilage and then becoming bone, and therefore are a great nutrient demand, hence why I thought it fitting the females would lose their answers when pregnant I also like to think this growth spirt of antlers begins when fawns reach puberty.

- The top point where red deer antlers attach is called the "crown", which is of course why I chose Katniss's people to refer to their antlers as "crowns".

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