Chapter 2: Shotgun Wedding
With shaking hands, I affix the veil to my head. Prim, released from the Home for the day of her sister's nuptials, helps drop the silky satin over my face. At only 18, I never thought that this would happen. Hell, I had once promised that it would never happen to me at any age! But here I am.
I am getting married today. To a Merchant. Peeta Mellark, the Baker's son.
My fiancé, true to his word, went to the Justice Building this morning to apply for a marriage license and to file an additional application of guardianship on behalf of Prim. It is my hope that the Justice Building will recognize and grant this one, especially after Peeta and I are wed in the eyes of the district law.
I smooth down the skirts of my blue Reaping dress as I study myself in the mirror. I will not be wearing my mother's bridal dress - it's the only one we own. I know it is what Mother would have wanted, but I've always intended for the dress to be worn by Prim and only Prim. On her wedding day. Not mine.
Around mid-morning, Peeta comes to call. Prim playfully tries to keep him out ("It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"), but I order her to let my soon-to-be-husband in. I think Peeta and I can agree not to be bothered with such frivolities like superstition. Upon entering, Peeta informs me that he has told his family about his surprise nuptials.
"My mother disowned me," he relays without a shred of irony. "Swears that no son of hers will marry a Seam..." He is fighting against even saying whatever heinous word his witch of a mother cast down on me, on us both.
I raise an eyebrow. "Slut?"
He winces even as he nods in affirmation.
I just huff. "I've heard worse, Peeta. Believe me." A thought comes to my mind. "What about your father and brothers?"
"I tried to invite them, Katniss, but Mother wouldn't have it. She'll probably pressure them out of not going. Quite a shame, really - I was hoping to recruit my dad into walking you down the aisle, since yours..."
Before I know what I'm doing, I've given him a hug. "Thank you," I express, a small smile forcing its way onto my face. "You did your best."
He grins back. "I guess I'll see you at the Justice Building in a few hours." He suddenly swoops down and pecks me on the cheek. I blink in surprise. "Until then."
I actually chuckle. "Until then."
Why do I feel flutters in my stomach as he strides out of my bedroom?
A few hours later, Prim guides me through town to the Justice Building. I try to ignore the gawking onlookers peering at us from out their doors and windows. And ignore their whispers, for that matter. The rumor has clearly reached here by now – no doubt planted by the Witch, who shall soon be my mother-in-law.
"Katniss Everdeen taking a husband? Getting married?
"Never thought I'd see the day!"
"No idea how the Mellark boy wooed a fiery soul like her!"
Ha! If only they knew the truth.
Prim and I enter through a back door of the Justice Building, and are led to the Chief Clerk's office. Peeta waits inside, all alone, and I feel a pang of sympathy for him. At least I have my sister. Him? He has no family here to see him get married, and it isn't due to irreversible circumstances. Yet when Peeta sees me, his face lights up as if he has not a care in the world.
"You look beautiful," he whispers to me. I find myself blushing.
The Chief Clerk smiles at us both. "Well, then. If everyone is here, let us begin..."
"Wait!" barks Deputy Head Peacekeeper Thread, who is lining the back of the office with other Peacekeepers. It does not seem remotely necessary. What does he think we're going to do? Run? I certainly can't, and won't - not now. "We haven't got a witness!"
"I can do it!" Prim pipes up.
"Someone who is of age," Thread corrects, and I scowl at his condescending tone. The Deputy Head Peacekeeper snaps his fingers and several of his men hustle out of the office. I look worriedly at Peeta.
"What are they doing?"
"Going to find a witness," he shrugs, grimacing helplessly.
And what a witness they find. For when the men return...
"THE FUCK YOU DRAG ME DOWN HERE FOR, THREAD?! REAPING DAY'S NOT FOR ANOTHER YEAR!"
I stare in abject horror as Haymitch Abernathy himself, District 12's only living Victor of the Hunger Games, is frog-marched by his arms into the Chief Clerk's office. Even if I had ever entertained the thought of what my wedding would be like, I would never - in my wildest dreams - have imagined that I would marry with only a falling-down drunk as a witness.
"We need you as a witness for this marriage, Abernathy! Poor kids don't have anybody else! And you need to walk her down the aisle!"
At Thread's command, Haymitch's bloodshot eyes try to focus on mine, to little avail. "You don't look too bad. But can you make this quick, sweetheart?"
I scowl at him in answer.
Trying not to openly cringe, I take Haymitch's arm as he walks me down the aisle. Well, actually, it's more like he stumbles down the aisle. It's honestly hard to tell who's walking whom.
I now stand in my blue Reaping Dress before the District Clerk and the District Justice of the Peace. The Housing Bureau is the office that notarizes and distributes marriage licenses, and though I've never been in this office before, I'm terribly nervous.
I really shouldn't be, as I turn back and smile at my baby sister, Prim. For her – Peeta and I are doing this for her.
"I see you have not put in a formal waiver of a housing transfer, as a marriage would otherwise dictate… Is the property deeded to a Miss Katniss Magenta Everdeen considered a suitable living arrangement?"
Peeta clears his throat. "It is, your Honor."
"I see." The Clerk lowers his hooked nose, topped by rimmed spectacles, down to the paper. "Well, the Justice Building has no objections. Shall we proceed?"
The District Justice of the Peace now steps forward and instructs Peeta and I to join hands, facing each other.
"Peeta Joseph Mellark, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do."
"Sign here, please." Peeta affixes his name to the marriage license.
"Katniss Magenta Everdeen, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do," I get out, thinking of Prim.
"Sign here, please." I sign my name to the parchment. "I now pronounce this couple as man and wife in the eyes of the district law. You may embrace as you see fit."
Peeta swoops forward, taking me in his arms, and my eyes only have time to grow wide before he is taking my face in his hands and kissing me deeply on the mouth.
I am completely unprepared, letting out a squeak of shock in the back of my throat. You would think that after years of observing Peeta, I would have had cause to wonder about his lips. Or how his hands, which I've heard can mold the most stubborn of dough, can so easily entrap me, as they now steal about my waist.
Peeta's lips press with even more passion into mine and I let out a gasp.
"Erm…."
To my credit, I hold the kiss until Peeta and I break apart. I hear Primrose gasping and squealing excitedly to herself. All I can do is stare at the man who is now my…. my husband in shock. I don't know what to feel, and even less what to think. But it hardly matters now. We are joined, for at least the next four years until my sister turns 18. Then we can either renew the marriage or divorce quietly. Either way, it is imperative to both Peeta and I that Prim be raised in a stable household; that is what we agreed when we decided to do this. The alternative is to see her remain in the Community Home, and thus increased risk of getting Reaped for the Hunger Games.
And as far as Primrose is concerned, I cannot allow that.
Peeta and I exit the Justice Building arm in arm. In the street, a few of our neighbors notice and stare, presuming that we have just come from having our wedding and that surely a customary Toasting will follow.
But there isn't going to be a Toasting. That would make it feel more – too – real.
Our blended family approaches the cart that Peeta must have used to clear out Prim's room in the Community Home – the cart that is now laden with all of Prim's possessions. I allow Peeta to take me by my waist and lift me gentlemanly into the cart. Only Prim does not follow, instead darting towards a stall at the edge of the open-air warehouse known as the Hob mere steps away.
"Primrose, stay close! Where are you going?" I call.
Seeing that she is rapidly engaging in conversation with Greasy Sae, the old peddler woman, I figure she is safe. As I watch Peeta secure our cart and circle the front in order to pull it himself, I feel a strange ache between my legs. The man is so terribly strong...
"Primrose, we're leaving!" I tamp down an amused smirk at how paternal Peeta already sounds with my baby sister.
Prim dashes back just in time, climbing into the cart beside me.
"Katty! Katty," she chitters, babbling happily while holding something in her palm. "Greasy Sae gave this to me for free! It's a wedding gift from me to you."
She places the pendant in my palm and I open my fingers to look at it. It's a pin, adorned with likely fake gold that is now also grimy and rusting besides, ironed into the shape of a mockingjay.
I lift my eyes to my sister, smiling weakly, my eyes wet. "I love it, Little Duck." I tuck her into a one-armed squeeze.
"Off we go, homeward bound! Ho!" Peeta calls, tugging our cart through the dusty streets of District 12, bound for the Everdeen (now Everdeen-Mellark) homestead.
Primrose is leaning against me as we step into our home. She's visited me here a few times before for dinner, when I could manage to obtain written permission from the Community Home, but even so, something about entering the place this time feels different.
Peeta sets down several of our bags, shifting his weight to better take the brunt of Mother's large trunk.
"Prim, I was figuring you could have your own room, if that's OK with your sister."
He leads my sister and I up to my room. The master bedroom now, I suppose, and I feel heat come to my cheeks. I try not to look at the double bed as Peeta sets down Mother's trunk between my simple vanity and the leaning chifforobe. My... husband lightly touches my arm.
"I'll go see to setting up Prim's bed." He heads back out into the hall.
Prim crosses to Mother's trunk and lifts the lid, rummaging through the things that amount to our inheritance. "Peeta was so terribly strong to carry it out to the cart this morning," she prattles, pausing to gingerly lift a garment of heavy silk and sighing.
"This is…?"
"Mother's. Yes," I smile sadly.
Though she incurred huge costs in wedding our Daddy, a poor Seam coal miner, Mother was actually born a Merchant and lived until she wasn't much older than me in Town – the richer portion of District 12. My parents' Toasting was an elopement that caused quite the scandal, as Seam-Merchant intermarriage was rare and remains so to this day. When Prim's and my grandparents disowned her, Mother made off with the family wedding dress, traditionally passed down from Merchant mother to Merchant daughter. It is our most precious family heirloom, the nicest article of clothing we own, even though I'm fairly certain I will never wear it. I'd declined to wear it to the Justice Building today. The impulse to do so hadn't… felt right.
"It's so beautiful," Prim gushes, piningly.
I come behind her and put my arms around her. "Maybe someday when you're older, we can take it up so you can wear it."
"Really?" Prim's eyes shine.
"Mmm-hmm."
"What is that?" Peeta asks, emerging back into my – our - room, appraising the garment. "It's a fine piece of fabric."
"My… my mother's wedding dress," I explain. "She carried it off with her when she married Daddy. Merchants tend to wear them."
Peeta sports an expression that he must think is regret for me. "You should have worn it to the Justice Building today! You… you would have looked enchanting!"
Prim giggles at his choice of words, even as I frown. "My Reaping dress did the job well enough. Wear... Wearing a wedding dress wouldn't have been right."
He nods, thoughtful, though the blue in his eyes seems to dim with what might be... sadness. "Well, then perhaps you could sell it," he offers. "It would carry for a pretty coin. Maybe even sesterce cash money too."
I gawp, dismayed. "Never! It's a family heirloom. Prim's inheritance! She has the right to wear it someday when she Toasts the bread. Mother would have wanted that!"
Peeta smiles down at my little sister, even as he raises his hands in surrender. "OK, then. But for what it's worth, I don't ever see our Little Duck getting married."
Prim grins cheekily and wiggles her bottom like a duck's tail. "Quack."
That night, I peer into the ajar door of Prim's bedroom, watching her dozing nicely. I pull the jamb too quietly, stirring when I feel Peeta touch my arm.
"Let's go to bed."
We traipse upstairs to the master bedroom. Now to be…. our bedroom.
By the light of the moon, I open Mother's trunk and rummage through it until I find it: her old, faded nightgown.
For some reason, I don't feel comfortable changing in front of Peeta, so I cross into the adjacent washroom. Changing from my blue Reaping dress into Mother's nightgown, I then take a deep breath before re-entering the bedroom and climbing into the bed that Peeta and I will now share, my back to him, facing the wall.
"Good… goodnight," I murmur. Peeta mumbles something beside me.
I lay there quietly, awake in the dark for what might be close to an hour, before I unexpectedly feel strong, warm arms encircle me from behind. I tense, shivering at the pair of lips now dipping a kiss into the curve of my neck.
Peeta grins. "I love you... Mrs. Mellark. If you are amenable, I don't think we should go to sleep just yet."
I tremble, breathing and pulse quick. "Wh.. what did you have in mind?"
The answer comes when I feel his lips now dipping another kiss into the curve of my neck again.
Peeta sharply rolls me over onto my back, and I stare in shock at how he hovers above me, the moonlight accentuating his silvery eyes that now seem to smolder. Gulping, I feel him press against me, and then I let out a gasp when I feel strong fingers push back the hem of my nightgown, push it up over my hips.
A large, strong set of fingers sink into the folds of my feminine beauty, and I feel dampness gather despite my lack of arousal.
Peeta dips his head down to mine and kisses me fiercely, and I sink into it, in spite of myself. With his free hand, he dares to reach out and gallingly cup my right breast; his other hand is still palming my heat, stroking me, grooming me.
"Mmmmhmmmmm…." I make an oddly pleased noise in the back of my throat, and I yield. Peeta squeezes my right breast again, causing the nipple to harden in the cool, late spring air. Rather sharply, my husband yanks down the bodice of my nightshirt to bare my breasts, and his mouth switches from ravaging mine to sucking on my left nipple, making the bud ache.
And then… I feel a bloated thing push into my vagina and I cry out at the sensation of a man filling me.
Peeta pauses inside me for a moment or two, focused on kissing and fondling my breasts, before he then begins to thrust inside me. The bedsprings creak and strain underneath our undulating bodies, the headboard smacking against the wall of rotting wood, plastered by clay.
"Fuck, fuck…. Urrrr…. Grrrrr…." Peeta grunts with pleasure into the sweaty curve of my neck again. All I can do is grip his back and hold him close to me as he takes me, fucks me. I pass the time of our frantic coupling by staring at the ceiling, counting the ceiling tiles, trying not to make a sound even as moans and noises of bliss are torn from my lips.
I whine as Peeta pounds me into the mattress.
"Ummmmm….. Ugghh….. HUHHHHH! UHHHHH!"
Peeta finishes inside me rather quickly, and rolls off of me. Curling into him, readjusting my nightdress, I try to go to sleep.
But it is only a few hours before passion awakens us both again.
I stir back into consciousness when a soft and calloused hand turns my face back to his as Peeta kisses me deeply. Purring happily, I return the kiss with a boldness that surprises even me, shivering as I feel Peeta's hands now glide up my thighs, pushing the hem of my nightdress up around my hips again, bunching the fabric. With a sigh, I gallingly yank the bodice of my nightdress back down so that my bare breasts glisten in the moonlight. I wiggle my shapely bottom, now also exposed against Peeta's fierce erection and am satisfied when I feel him rut against me with a whimper.
But Peeta isn't done. He continues to furiously rub his length along the perfect globes of her toned buttocks to get harder still. Keening into him, I groan, shuddering with delight as I feel his arms encircle me. One of his large hands dips into the damp wetness at the apex of my thighs, swirling his fingers along my nub. With his free hand, Peeta reaches around and brazenly cups the flesh of her left breast, pinching my purple and pebbling nipple until it is erected to painful tenderness. Mindful that my right breast is being left unattended, Peeta cranes his face over my writhing form and takes her remaining nipple deep into his mouth, suckling on my boob.
"Peet…a….." I squirm happily, almost stunned speechless and wondering where in the world he learned to do that. "What are you…..? OHHHHHHH! Oh, Panem, yes! Fuck me right there! Fuck my arse! Fuck my a – Ahhhh... AHHHHHHH... AHHHHHHHH!"
For at that moment, Peeta takes me fiercely from behind in one, glorious thrust, shoving his now free member in between my ass cheeks. Jerking his hips violently, he begins to slide in and out of my anus, all while fondling my large breasts with his hands and his mouth and fucking my clit with his fingers. I have to clap a hand over my mouth to quiet my moans, which soon morph into yips and squeaks as Peeta continues to fuck me.
"Mmmm… Hmmmm….. Huhhhh…. Uhhhh…. Oh….. Ooooooohhhhh….. Ohhhhhh… OHHHHHH! MMMMMMM!"
With one final, slam, my buttocks trap his member deep inside me as he cums, milking him. Seconds later, the muscles in my pussy contract, tightening around his hand as, with a strangled cry and arching my back against him, pressing my ass into his hips, I cum so hard I see stars.
Rolling onto my back, my grey eyes huge and sparkling in the moonlight, I wordlessly spread my legs for him, opening my thighs wide invitingly.
Peeta doesn't need to be told twice. Scrambling on top of me, he slams his penis deep into my dripping wet folds, nearly pulling all the way out before he thrusts into me again. My hips snap up to meet him every time, so that our bare skin makes a kind of squelching, clapping sound as we unify together. Beneath us, the bedsprings under the mattress creak as we work up a rhythm, learning to please each other together. I have to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out; Oh, Snow, if Primrose or the neighbors hear…..!
Peeta growls as he continues to thrust into me, and I winding my legs about him to bring him closer, closer still. I am nearly naked except for my nightdress bunched up, almost folded in half around my navel, leaving my breasts free and my sopping cunt exposed to the humid summer air.
Peeta is quivering above me, and I know that he's close. I decide that this dynamic won't do at all. So, assertively, I suddenly shove my hands into his chest, flipping him off of me and slamming him back into the mattress.
From his wide eyes, Peeta fears that I have had enough, but then he nearly chokes as I solemnly, with purpose, swing my long legs over his hips as I move to straddle him. There is a soft rustling of the sheets and then cloth as I untie the straps to my nightdress at my waist, allowing the garment to fall away and pool on the floor. Bracing one hand against the sloped ceiling of this little room, I slowly begin to bounce up and down on Peeta's dick, watching his stunned expression as I enthusiastically make love to him. This time, I don't bother to be quiet as I moan and whimper, feeling Peeta's touch burn where he is gripping my hips as he jerks up into me.
We spend half of the rest of that night, our wedding night, having sex.
"Hurrrr…. Urrrrr… Huhhhhh! Uhhhhhh!"
