Bran exhaled loudly and lifted his hand to the door before he let it fall to his side again. This was ridiculous. Haymitch was wrong. Why should he bring up ancient history and hurt so many people?
Prim already knows, his brain protested. You need to talk to her.
But I need to talk to Violet first, he shut himself down. And any time I'm alone with her…
Just do it. He scowled, which looked very strange on the baker's kindly face but he lifted his hand to the door again and knocked twice. A lovely face peeked out and her blue eyes widened in surprise.
"Bran!" Bran's heart ached at the sight of her. She had the same blue eyes as his youngest son, and the same smile too. Violet had always been a beauty and her Merchant genes shone through but even Prim's hair was more golden that her mother's. Bran remembered how beautiful his mother's hair had been. Prim was his flesh and blood, no doubt.
He forced a smile and nodded.
"Hello, Prim."
"What a surprise… come on in," the young girl opened the door wider and ushered him inside. The hospital wing was empty and he didn't see Violet anywhere.
"If you're looking for Bing and April, Mom let them return to their bunker. The baby is very healthy and she thought they would be more comfortable in their own bed."
"Ah thank you, but I was actually hoping to speak to your mother."
"She just went to get us some food from the cafeteria. She shouldn't be too long, if you'd like to wait for her," she motioned toward a chair and Bran swallowed.
"Maybe I should just come back-"
"What's got you so nervous, Bran?" He stopped and stared at her with wide eyes.
"I'm sorry?"
"I asked what has you so nervous? You're all twitchy and you're very pale. Is something wrong?"
"No, no, I just…" he shook his head and Prim's brow raised.
"Are you sure?" Bran studied his hands, which were wringing his shirt at the moment. He stifled a moan, as he realized Prim was doing the exact same thing.
"I need to talk to your mother but it can wait. I will see you later, Primrose."
"Mr. Mellark- Bran!" He glanced over his shoulder, waiting for her to continue.
"Will you please look at me?" He slowly turned on the spot, meeting her gentle eyes. She shifted from side to side, and cocked her head.
"Have you always known?"
"Known what, child?"
"I'm no child, Bran… my sister is leading a war. I have seen injuries and horrors that would give a grown man nightmares. I spent my childhood starving and watching my sister fight to keep us alive. I've fallen in love. Please don't treat me like a little kid. I haven't been a child for a very long time." Bran swallowed heavily, blinking back tears.
"Did you know right away that I was your daughter?" Bran nearly fell to his knees. He knew she knew but hearing her say it outright was something different altogether.
"Have you always been so clever?" She shrugged.
"I get it from Katniss. She's terribly clever, and thank goodness she is, or I wouldn't be standing in front of you today." Bran hung his head and she crossed her arms.
"Why did you both keep it from me?"
"Prim, you had a father who loved you and took care of you. If I had said anything, it would have made your life more difficult."
"Really? Cause the way I see it, if you had claimed me as your own, I wouldn't have gone to bed hungry every night." Her eyes flashed and Bran could see her anger growing.
"You have every right to be angry with me-"
"Thanks for your permission," she said coldly. "So was it you who decided to stay away, or was it your witch of a wife? I don't imagine she was too pleased to hear that you had a daughter with someone else."
"Your mother and I agreed we wouldn't speak of it again. I didn't even know she was pregnant, until I saw your father holding you after you were born. Your mother's eyes met mine and they told me everything. Your father clearly adored you, so I didn't want to step in and ruin that."
"Yes but he died when I was seven! My sister was 11 years old, Bran, and she hunted illegally to feed me! She traded with YOU. Why didn't you help us? I'M YOUR DAUGHTER!"
"Primrose!" Prim and Bran whirled around to find Violet standing just inside the door, more pale than they had ever seen her. The tray was about to slip out of her hands and Bran hurried forward to balance it on his hand. Violet didn't even notice.
"Young lady… just WHAT are you trying to-"
"I'm tired of the lies, Mom," Prim huffed. "You had an affair with Bran Mellark and you both kept it from me."
"Now wait just a second," Violet straightened up. "How can you think-"
"Vi," Bran said miserably, shooting Prim a look. "She's a smart girl. She knows she's mine."
"BRAN!"
"To answer your earlier question, Prim, I was scared." Bran set the tray on a table and fidgeted with his hands. "Margaret started to become more and more angry and I noticed she started… abusing the boys. Especially Peeta. He would hide the bruises from me but I knew they didn't come from school or wrestling. I was such a coward, not having the courage to stop her. But I was terrified she would do something to you, if I stepped forward and claimed you. And what the town would have done to your mother… she was already exiled for choosing to marry a man from the Seam. If they knew that she'd borne a child out of wedlock… I wouldn't have been able to protect you both. So I gave what I could to Katniss, when we traded. I helped Peeta sneak treats into his bag, to feed you both. It's all I could do." Prim's nostrils flared.
"It was NOT all you could do. You're right. You're a coward."
"Prim-"
"And you," she turned on her mother. "You nearly left us when Dad died. Yet you had an affair?! Katniss was so upset with you and I defended you. You're no better than Bran!" She shook her head in disgust at her parents before yanking the door open and storming out. Violet made to go after her but Bran held up a hand.
"She needs some time to cool down."
"You don't know my daughter-"
"Violet," he said with a mixture of annoyance and pain. "I've watched her her whole life. I do know her. She's a lot like her mother, strong-willed. She will come back when she's calmed down." Violet sighed and faced the wall. Bran sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair.
"She's right though. I should have done more. I shouldn't have been so spineless when it came to Margaret. There are many things I regret and most of them surround her."
"Your parents chose her, not you," she said gently.
"True but I should have stepped up then and said I could never love her like she deserved. It wasn't fair to either of us. And after discovering what she did to Peeta… I don't know if things can even go back to normal after this." Violet frowned and turned back around.
"What do you mean? What did she do to him?"
Bran looked guilty, as if he had let too much slip. "She just… she abused my boy too much. He grew up hardened and hurting. He's not the same ray of sunshine I remember."
"He seemed to radiate joy when I saw him marry Katniss," she offered, settling herself in a chair.
"She's good for him. And I hope none of… this," he waved between the two of them, "comes between them."
"Katniss would never blame Peeta for something that is completely out of his control. But the fact that they share a sister needs to come from you, Bran. As soon as he returns." He nodded.
"I know. Like Haymitch, I'm trying to solve a puzzle here. Before he comes home."
"Oh Haymitch introduced you to his little puzzle, did he," she sniffed in disapproval. "Did you help him solve it?"
"Not quite. Though we are pretty close. There's something else you should know, Vi, but I don't know if I'm the right one to tell you."
"Well is there any way I can help you with Peeta?" Bran cocked his head.
"How much do you know about the myths and magic of District 12?" She frowned.
"Not much. Why do you ask?"
"I met with Greasy Sae on the morning after Peeta's birth. I wanted some hearty soup for Margaret because the birth had been difficult. She told me that Peeta was a twice blessed child. I didn't understand what that meant and when I asked her to explain, she only winked and disappeared behind her booth."
"Twice blessed? Peeta was born under a blood moon, wasn't he?" Bran cracked a smile.
"You remembered."
"It was a birth I wasn't allowed to help with. Yes, I remember."
"I"m sorry I called for you that night. I was worried… about them both, and-"
"Bran, that's not important. What about this blessing business?"
"I don't rightly know. Margaret called him a curse and she tried… well, it doesn't matter, but I believed he was such a blessing and I wasn't the only one."
"She tried to what, Bran?" Her eyes were narrowed and her arms were crossed over her chest. Bran swallowed at her fierce look.
"Nothing."
"Bran Mellark, don't think you can lie to me. You never could." He sighed and clapped his hands together, hanging his head.
"She sold him."
"She WHAT?" His head snapped back up and he held up his hands.
"It's a long story but she sold him to President Snow as a child. And when the Peacekeepers tried to take him away, they mysteriously died. Something, or someone, was protecting him. I just want to know what."
"Why in the name of the Treaty of Treason would President Snow buy a little boy?" Bran chewed his lip. He wasn't ready to tell her about her husband, and his wife's involvement in his death. He just couldn't.
"I'm not sure," he lied. "But when he took Peeta and Ryen when they were older, the Capitol said they would make fine peacekeepers. I imagine President Snow was looking around the districts for strapping lads to put through training."
"Bran, that makes no sense! Why would the Capitol be all the way out in 12? And what-"
"Violet," he said softly, holding up his hand. "I wish I could tell you more. But I don't know. What I do know, is that Peeta was not able to leave the district until he turned 16. Being born under a blood moon is supposed to be a good omen but Margaret didn't see it that way. Still, I want to know what else Ms Sae knows. Or do you know anything about magic?" She sighed but Bran saw something in her eyes, something that intrigued him.
"Vi… do you know something?"
"Bran, these are old wives tales. Something to talk about in the night but not to be believed."
"Then why have I always had the feeling that your healing doesn't just come from your familiarity with medicine?" She froze, staring at him.
"I often heard stories about witches in 12. None were ever proven, of course, but I did hear stories about the Iasos, especially the women."
"Then why did you want to marry one," she asked bitterly.
"I never believed you were a witch, Violet. And having met your mother as well, I can say she was not one either. But that doesn't mean your ancestors weren't."
"I have no magic in my blood," she scoffed. "I have a gift for healing and that is all there is to it." She looked ready to dismiss him so he sank to his knees in front of her.
"You may not be a witch but you know about such things, don't you? Tell me about Peeta. Please." She stared at him for the longest time before exhaling loudly.
"These are only stories I've heard. I cannot guarantee any truth."
"Understood," he said eagerly.
"My grandmother often told me stories of the old magic from District 12, before the Dark Days. When all sorts of tribes lived there, mostly in peace but not always. Something happened to split the tribes apart and there was a terrible war. Many lives were lost and the tribes prayed to the spirits for answers. In a cave on the side of the mountains, four chiefs made offerings and prayed for peace. The Spirits answered, saying they would send a twice blessed child who could unite the tribes and lead them all. It was a scandal, then, when the youngest daughter of one of the Chiefs found herself with child. She was unmarried and was very scared. The tribes banded together to protect her while the baby grew inside her. She bore a son, named Red Moon, on the sixth day of the sixth month.
He was born under a blood moon and it is said that the baby's healthy cry made the braves drop their weapons and come together to honor him. It was their belief that the red moon in the sky was wounded and it needed healing, so the wives all joined together to care for it. The tribes women' sang and chanted all through the night, to heal the moon. When the moon returned to normal, Red Moon's young mother told the tribes that the spirits had spoken to her and had said that her newborn son was a gift borne of conflict between the sun and moon. That the blood moon had been caused by a great injury paid by the sun. But the tribes' healing chants had worked, and the moon was once again on good terms with the sun. So it was a time for feuds to be laid to rest, and as the Spirits had told the Chiefs what would happen, Red Moon combined the tribes, bringing together their strength and skills. The tribes never fought again." Bran felt as if he had been listening to a bedtime story from his mother and he was impatiently waiting for the end.
"So?" he finally spoke. Violet raised her brow.
"So?"
"That… made no sense whatsoever and what does that have to do with Peeta? And how was the baby twice blessed? This myth is just to confuse people!"
"No, it's to give them hope," she said patiently. "That conflict will be resolved and we can one day live in peace."
"So, what, Peeta is this tribal chief, come back to restore peace?"
"I didn't say anything like that," she scoffed. "He was born under a blood moon, in the sixth month, just as the chief was. Red Moon was able to talk to the tribes and convince them to stop fighting. He did it with his words, not his strength. He was blessed with a silver tongue, the ability to seduce people with words, to get them to see the way the world could be. Now who does that remind you of?" Bran was silent.
"What Violet is trying to tell you," a voice came from the door. Violet rolled her eyes while Bran watched Haymitch lean down and steal a piece of bread from the food tray. "Is that if Peeta really is a twice-blessed child, and I believe he is, then he could be the key to ending this war."
"Why do you think he is twice-blessed? And what happened to not believing in any of this?" Haymitch shrugged.
"Wanted to keep certain parties out of trouble. Now imagine the twice-blessed hero standing beside his songbird, their words and songs intertwining and touching all of Panem."
"She has to find him," Bran whispered. "She has to be the one to bring him home." Haymitch nodded.
"And there's someone who can help us, waiting for us up top."
So good news my lovelies! The rest of the story is officially finished! I am considering ending this one and posting the rest as a sequel since this one has gotten much longer than I intended. I have had quite a few ppl message me asking how much longer this will go, and unfortunately with so much still unanswered, I wasn't able to just wrap it up quickly. Bear with me, I really love where this fic went and am happy with the ending. I'll try to post as regularly as I can!
Thank you all for your support and kind words about my book!
Have a great week!
Xoxo
