The Lady Of The Lake
So, here we are.
The final chapter.
I have to admit it was so hard to write this epilogue. To say goodbye to this story and these characters which have been so much a part of my life for the last few years. Sky and Cato have become a part of me, as have their companions, friends and enemies.
Before writing Lady of the Lake I never thought I would ever be able to write anything so detailed or long...up until then I'd only ever written short stories...or unfinished ones. Because of Lady of the Lake...and because of all you guys, I have now begun work on my first novel. I hope that one day all of you will be able to read it. If you want to be in the loop about it, to receive updates and such, just shoot me a message at the Lady of the Lake Tumblr.
As always that is located here:
thgladyofthelake . tumblr . com
This is not the end guys. I do plan on writing some more of these guys...plus the AU's, as well as my Novel.
Thank you. Thank you every single one of you who has been here, who has read, especially those who review...thank you. It's because of you that this story made it to this...the final, 50'th chapter.
ENJOY!
Chapter 50
I stand on the headland of District 4 and look out over the sea.
A little over a year has passed since the final battle in the Capitol. Since those final, fateful days since Victory was won, and good friends and loved ones were lost.
A council has been elected, with representatives from all 13 Districts and the Capitol, they are responsible for the running of our new country, along with the men and women they have chosen to help. Finnick was almost unanimously elected for District 4, as I had known he would be. It gave him a purpose, although I know he will never truly accept or move beyond Annie's death. Cato has become the Head Peacekeeper of the District, tasked with keeping order, protecting its citizens and helping out as much as he can. It's something he's very good at, a born leader of men, charismatic. Those who remain of our District respect him, and it gives me great joy to see him doing something he loves.
As for District 4 itself the ruin it was that first day that we came home is something many of us will never forget.
A great deal has changed in that time, with everyone in the new Republic of Panem chipping in to help everyone else. With the help of the woodcrafters of Disctrict 7, the stoneworkers of District 2, the new metalwork crafters in District 6, and the architects and city planners of the Capitol, the new District 12, District 13 and District 4 have begun to take shape. They promise to be beautiful, well-crafted and striking, although very different to one another, to suit the character of the district. District 13 is beginning to look modern, sleek, the new buildings up on the earth above still clean white or greys, with a great deal of glass and strong metal, District 12 with the heavy, darker timbers and strong stone to keep the homes well insulated in the harsh winters, and District 4 made of beautiful red and gold sandstone as well as lighter timbers, to weather the life of a city near the water.
Very little survived the tsunami sent by the Capitol, almost all the houses were destroyed and the beach was a wreck of rotting wood when we finally made it home, over a year later. The Hall of Justice still stood, although it had taken a battering from the waves. The books up in my repository were destroyed, the windows smashed in by the water and leaving everything in terrible shape. A few were salvageable, and I took them away to copy down the knowledge within them.
Where the Victor's Village once stood, again, little remained. My house was gone in its entirety, including the kitchen Annie had helped me make, and the garden made by Mags. Part of Finnick's house remained and he climbed up into the remains to retrieve what little was left, a few momentos, including a locket that I knew had once belonged to Annie.
Mags' home was gone, but I found under the rubble a stairwell down to a basement, sealed by a strong, watertight door. Inside was Mags' collection of treasures including detailed notebooks in which she'd penned everything she could remember about the Tributes she had trained, including, in the final one, half filled, Darrien and I. The basement was full of things she'd found, things she'd saved, from the Capitol during her long years, and looking around I couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder, and pride in the woman who had been like a grandmother to me, as well as fresh and renewed grief at the thought that she was gone…like so many others.
It hasn't been easy for those of us left behind.
In a few days we will celebrate the first Remembrance Day held across Panem, a day that a looks back at our bloody and recent past, a day to reflect, to mourn, and to remember those who fell, as well as the events that unfolded.
Remembrance day. Which was once Reaping Day.
"Sky."
I look around sharply as I'm startled out of my thoughts, but relax the instant I see my husband.
It's been hard for us since the fall of Snow and Coin. Both of us sometimes still wake in the night, gasping from the nightmares that plague us. Our bond, so shaken and fragile in those final days of rebellion has slowly begun to strengthen once more. With the advent of peace, he and I could get to know the new Cato, and the new Sky. We found common ground, and worked from there.
He strolls up beside me and curls a strong arm around my waist, still as warm and secure as it was that first night we curled up in a cave together. I smile up at him, and he arches an eyebrow back, "So tell me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my hair, "Did the sea have anything new to tell you today? Or are you hiding?"
I grin and rest my head in the crook of his shoulder, "What makes you say that?"
"A little bird suggested that might be the reason."
Finnick, I think and shoot Cato another raised eyebrow. He gives me a faux innocent look in return.
Whatever happened under the Capitol that final day cemented a bond between my adopted brother and my husband. They haven't told me, and I haven't asked. All I know is that Finnick almost died, and Cato saved him, for which I am immeasurably grateful.
"I don't need a day to remember." I say quietly, and I feel his arm tense, "I know it's important. I was the one who put it to the council…but…" I'm not ready to face the sheer weight of those lost yet, I'm not sure I ever will be.
"It's important." Cato's voice is gravelly in response and I know he understands, he feels the same, feels the terrible drowning weight of the lives lost. But he has the added burden of the lives he took. I can barely face the one life I ended, but my husband has always been stronger than I. Still…he does feel it.
"I know," I sigh and turn my face into his neck, "Is the train coming in?"
"Yeah," he presses a kiss to my hair, "They're here."
We're just in time, climbing the stairs to the train platform just as the train from the other districts pulls in.
Peeta is waiting there already, Teesa, still wobbly on her little legs, clutching his hand. Beside him are Lyrra, Sefir and Gloss, all of whom decided to leave their Districts behind to make a fresh start here in District 4. Pearl and Jasper, Cashmere and Fells' little twins sit by their adoptive fathers' feet, Gloss having immediately adopted them in his name after the battle. Sefir too adopted them after he and the man from 1 were married just 4 months ago.
On the other side of Peeta is Finnick, who shoots me a wry smile, while trying to fend off little Darrien's determined fingers trying to convince his father to put him down. Knowing his son's adventurous and trouble-seeking streak however, he keeps him firmly off the ground.
I take my place beside Peeta, lifting Teesa into my arms as Cato curls a strong arm about my waist. I smile up at him before turning back to the train.
The train stops and immediately there is hustle and bustle as people spill out, searching out familiar faces and calling out in greeting. I smile as I see people from all over hugging each other and chattering as they leave the platform, before turning my own attention back to the train, looking for our own guests.
I see Katniss first, followed closely by Gale beside her and I wave. She smiles and hurries over, giving Finnick a hug before greeting the rest of us. Prim is here too, and bounces off the train eagerly, looking around for a mop of dark curls, looking disappointed when she realises Leadan is not there. She's followed by Haymitch and a heavily pregnant Deccia, who shoots him deadly glares every time he makes a move as though to help her.
I hear Cato snickering beside me, and feel no shame in elbowing him.
Katniss was elected as District 12's Council representative in the elections held three months after the fall of the Capitol, which was a surprise to only her. Haymitch stayed on as her advisor and Deccia took on the role of District peacekeeper, now a force for protecting the people. Gale became her Lieutenant and right hand man, and presumably the one in command while she finishes her pregnancy from behind her desk.
The District 12 contingent is followed by the one from 5 with Ria and Lucan gliding over gracefully. Ria is the Councillor for 5 and Lucan naturally became head peacekeeper, surprising everyone, even his family with his feelings and affection for the former District 5 Victor. Always serious, there are lines of sorrow now around Cato's brother's eyes. They were deep the last time I saw him, but have eased now as the months pass. He greets Cato, hugging his brother, and he smiles at Teesa. But the kiss to my cheek is brief and brusque.
Lucan will never forgive me for his twin dying to save my life.
Cato's mother joins us, the only Du'Grey left in 2, despite all three of her remaining children begging her to join them. Someone needed to keep 2 in line she said, and after the death of Tiderius, Cato's father, she wanted to stay where she was.
It's strange seeing them all again, my mixed family from all over Panem, but it doesn't bring back the horrifying memories, doesn't dim my joy in seeing them.
Instead I'm just…happy.
Katniss approaches me on the beach, looking comfortable and relaxed in the lighter clothes we in 4 prefer. I smile as I watch her approach and give her a gentle nudge as she comes to a stop beside me.
"It's hard to believe it's been a year." She says finally, glancing at me again, and I nod, "It feels so fresh, still so fresh. How…how are you handling all of this?"
I look at her again, this time in surprise, "Me?"
She rolls her eyes and gives me a look in return, "You, of course you. Do you think I don't know that you're the one that Finnick goes to for advice when he's unsure, whether it be about Council stuff or little Darrien, or that you're the one who encouraged Peeta to open up his own shop. Do you think I don't know that you're the one who Sefir and Gloss come to when they feel overwhelmed with the twins, or work? Do you think I don't know that Deccia rings you for advice? Or Haymitch? Do you think that I don't know how you support Cato? You help everyone…and so…yes….I want to know how you're going."
I blink at her, "I'm fine…"
"You're fine?" she arches an eyebrow at me, "Fine?"
"What do you want me to say Katniss?" I turn to face her, but there's no anger in my voice, "I'm fine. I'm not great, or perfect, or even good….I'm fine. Like you said…things are still a bit too fresh."
Katniss nods, she seems to accept that, and both of us turn as the sound of laughter rings down the beach.
Prim is running down the sands and flings herself into the arms of a tall dark haired boy, sending both of them sprawling. Laughter drifts to us and both of us smile.
"All of this started because I wanted to protect Prim." Katniss' voice was soft, and she turns back to rest her hand on my arm, "But in the end it was you who saved her."
"Fells saved her." I remind her, chest panging at the memory, "He saved her,"
"He wouldn't have been able to without you." She barrels on before I can dispute that fact, "Thank you Sky. I think this world would be a much darker place without you."
She walks off, back up the beach towards Gale, who is waiting for her. He is smiling, and so is she and I look away, out into the sea, feeling my own lips curl up too.
"It still looks the same,"
Katniss is the one to break the silence, her soft voice quiet in the still air of the huge forest clearing.
It's a perfect summer's day, with birds singing in the trees and the sounds of life rustling in the forest around the clearing in which we stand. Before us the Cornucopia rises, a huge silver shape in an otherwise perfect green field, showing no sign of the young people who had died here all those years ago.
Cato's hand tightens around mine, and I squeeze it gently, my eyes drawn away from the metallic reminder of the old Capitol and towards the sparkling waters of the lake.
It's Remembrance Day, which used to be Reaping day in the Districts, and across Panem everyone is remembering, honouring those who died in the Games, and those who fell in the rebellion.
It is a hard day, to remember those losses which are still as acutely painful now as they were years ago, but I know it is especially hard on us, the Victors, the only survivors of the Hunger Games and Rebellion. So much lost…but also so much to honour and remember.
That's why we are here, a soft suggestion from Peeta one night over dinner back in the rebuilt District 4 that took root in our minds until it became reality. Something, once the idea was planted, compelled us to return to this place, this Arena where Panem changed forever.
There were many who wanted the Arenas torn down after the Rebellion, wanted them demolished and a cenotaph placed in their place, honouring the fallen, but I argued against it, with Cato, Peeta and Finnick backing me up. Some had thought them a gruesome reminder, not wanting that shadow to loom over our bright future, but I saw it another way. They were a reminder, a reminder of the cruelty we could inflict on one another. They were a part of our history now…and to destroy them…well a History forgotten is a history repeated.
The Arenas would remind us…and hopefully in the centuries to come, long after the Games faded from living memory, people, young and old, could come to these places, and understand.
"It does…" I reply quietly, and look over at the others, at my husband, at Peeta and Katniss, and think about how far we've come in the years since that first Hunger Games, how much we've changed.
I think back on the girl who emerged here that first morning, running across this grass with Peeta by her side, leaving behind a bloodbath and a boy who would become her husband and the love of her life. I'm not her any longer, and the thought fills me with a kind of grief, because she died in this Arena just as surely as the other Tributes did. And the girl she became died in the Quell, in the Capitol torture rooms, and then again in the Rebellion when she killed the District 13 invader, finally leaving me…a very different girl to who I once was.
But then that's true of all of us, Peeta's not the same….neither is Cato. Katniss too has changed. What we did, what we experienced, few could come through it and not change.
Slowly the four of us walk across the grass, Cato's hand in mine as Katniss drifts off. She walks towards the trees, and I know she's going to a grove where wildflowers grow, where a little shrine is placed to honour the fallen girl from District 11.
I come to a stop beside one in the grass, rising up in the shape of the boy I had once known. Darrien sits there, a perfect holographic image of him. A small smile hovers on his mouth, and his hands play idly with the grass stems. His eyes do not focus on us…he is simply an image, a trace of the boy who'd died here. He doesn't look at us at all, even as I brush my fingers over his plaque.
To me it's too short, too brief to capture who Darrien was. But I know that that's how it has to be. If it were up to me the words would cover the field and the entire arena.
"I miss him," I say softly, and Cato tugs me into his arms as Peeta's hand curls in mine.
"I know…" my husband murmurs.
I don't go with him to Clove's.
He's intensely private about his grief for the young girl who'd been like a younger sister to him, so Peeta and I just watch him walk towards the next marker and turn to follow the river. He takes me to where Teesa's marker is, and I show him my cave, now protected by water once more.
Finally the sun begins to lower in the sky and the four of us return to the cornucopia and then descend into the arena leaving the memories behind and getting on the small train bound for District 7 and then on to home.
That night I sit in my study, the room specially built for me when Cato designed our new home. The windows are floor to ceiling, and in the daytime they let in all the sunlight. At night however I can see the stars, all the stars in the heavens, and I can hear the sound of the sea.
Tonight I can also hear the sounds of our guests downstairs, of laughter, the sound of Sefir's booming voice telling a story. It makes me smile, but I need this time, a little time to myself.
Slowly I reach out and pick up one of the diaries that Mags had written, one of the ones in which she'd written about the District 4 tributes that had been before Darrien and I. My fingers rub over the leather cover and then I put it down, turning to the small device on my desk. I touch my finger to its side and a screen appears in the air before me. Waiting.
"Seventy five years ago, the hunger games began," I begin, my voice soft, watching as the words appeared on the screen before me, "There were seventy five years of Hunger Games, bloody contests in which all competitors would be killed, save one Victor." My eyes close and slowly I continue on, "During that time, 1,723 children died. 1,723 Tributes. There were 77 Victors, those who survived. Some might call them lucky…but the young men and women who came home were not the same ones who left. A part of them died too in the Arenas of the Hunger Games. Of these 1,800 children…now only a handful remain. It would be easy to forget…to ignore the memory of these lives lost. But I feel the world needs to know of the lost Tributes of the Hunger Games."
I swallow and pick up the diary again, "These are their stories."
THE END. (For now)
