A/N: Features depictions of difficult childbirth and postpartum depression. Features lyrics from the traditional Scottish ballad, 'Loch Lomond'.

KATNISS POV

Before we were to leave for the Capitol, I wanted to go into the woods one final time, but Peeta was watching me very closely. After we failed to bring home Vick, Peeta told me that he didn't want me going to the woods anymore on days or at times that Gale might be there. "He threatened you, Katniss, and he's made it very clear that he has no problem hurting you, irregardless of your situation," his reasoning was, and truth to be told, I couldn't blame him. He just wanted to protect me, I knew that, but being forced to stay in the house all the time was driving me mad. He didn't want me visiting Gale's family, either, for the same reason, even though Gale was doing twelve-hour shifts in the mines. "We don't know how his other brother feels..."

"Rory isn't like Gale," I'd told him.

"And there was a time when I wouldn't have hurt a fly, but now I'd have no problem slugging Gale a few times after what he did to you. The Games change people, Katniss," he'd replied. He was right, but it really did suck not being able to visit my old family friends. Prim kept me good company, though. She would be fifteen soon, and with her being older, we could relate to one another easier. The day before we were due to leave for the Capitol, Prim and I were in my old home having tea and cookies together, and Prim was telling me about how Cascade, one of the district midwives I worked with, agreed to train her to become a midwife.

"She won't let me learn until I'm fifteen. I begged her though because you started learning when you were thirteen, so why can't I?" she'd asked me.

"I'd already had some experience, little duck. I used to apprentice for my own mother back when I lived in Hebridia," I told her, taking a sip from my tea.

"As a child?" I nodded. "I thought you didn't like any of that stuff."

"I didn't, but I admired the hell out of my mother and I wanted to be like her, and then when she died... it was one of few things of her that I had left to hold onto," I told her.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost my mother. You're so much stronger than me, Katniss."

"I'm not as strong as you think..." I let out a sigh, then checked the time on the wall clock. "I should get going... I need to pack for Lark, and this baby."

"Maevis, right?" I nodded as I stood, holding my belly to reorient myself. "It really is a pretty name. I know it's not a name you would have chosen, but it is pretty. And she's going to be beautiful." I couldn't help but smile.

"I just hope she looks like Peeta... Hell, I hope every child we have to have looks like him. It'll make all of this more bearable." With that said, I made my way back to my home, to where Peeta was struggling with toilet training Lark. We'd started her early to make the transition for her easier, since we'd soon have another baby in the house, and she wasn't very happy about it at all. Peeta tried bribing her with cookies, but she sure was a stubborn little thing. I suppose she gets that from me.

We were on the train early the next morning, having been ushered in quickly by Effie, who gave us paperwork to fill out first thing. We had to write in our daughter's name, as well as my own and Peeta's, and any other names we might have had. It also bore the expected date of birth for our child, which was Sunday, the first of November, 2161. "They don't give me a lot of time to settle in, do they?" I asked Peeta, who looked frustrated as he looked over the paperwork.

"We get there on Saturday, you give birth on Sunday. Everything in the Capitol works like clockwork, doesn't it?" he said. He was clearly unhappy about the situation, and I only wished that there was something I could do to make this easier on him.

"Just wait for next Monday... That's when we'll be back home, with Lark and our new baby safe inside of their own beds," I told him, taking his bicep in my arm.

"It feels ages away," Peeta replied, placing one of his hands over mine and giving me the best smile he could muster, which, truthfully, wasn't much. We arrived in the Capitol in the early hours of the thirty-first of October and were brought to some special suite in the hospital, which certainly was every bit ornate that we were promised.

"This is the Presidential Suite! Oh, how lucky you two are indeed! Every prominent Capitol figurehead was born in this very room, including President Snow himself!" Effie exclaimed. Somehow, I didn't believe that, but lying to the people was certainly Snow's greatest strength. The room wasn't particularly large, but it had a rather large bed that faced a large window, where the buyers would be watching. It made me sick to think that I was going to be watched by complete strangers, but at least they were allowing Peeta to be by my side. I wouldn't be able to get through this if it weren't for him. Effie left us to get settled, taking Lark to the room that she would be staying in, leaving Peeta and me by ourselves.

"Are you ready for another little set of feet to run around the house?" Peeta asked me. I nodded, not saying a word as I took in the room we would be staying in. I hated it, along with everything else in the Capitol. Sure it was nice and fancy and very comfortable, but it was too much. All I wanted was to give birth in my bed at home, with Prim assisting whatever midwife answered the call and Peeta by my side. But no, I would have a string of Capitol doctors and nurses and an entire audience watching the show. I felt Peeta snake his arms around me and his lips on the back of my neck, and I turned in his arms and hugged him as best as I could.

The Capitol doctors checked me over as soon as Peeta and I were settled and decided that the baby was doing well, then informed me that the birth would be at ten in the morning the next day. "But that isn't how childbirth works," I said to the doctor. "Babies come when they're ready. It takes time."

"Are you trying to tell me, a doctor, how to do my job, Mrs. Mellark?" the doctor asked me, clearly irritated with my outburst.

"I'm a midwife back at home, so I know a thing or two about childbirth," I replied stubbornly.

"Well, Miss Midwife, I can assure you that we have a very different way of delivering babies here in the Capitol than you do in your... districts," said the doctor, his disgust evident in his voice. "Ten o'clock, tomorrow morning, this baby will be here. You can be certain of that." I wasn't happy. Not even a little bit, and I told Peeta as much using only my eyes when he was finally allowed back into the room.

"I wish I could do this for you," he told me, holding my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "I hate the idea of you suffering so much."

"Not like I haven't done it before," I said, forcing a smile. It was true, I had given birth before, but Lark was so much smaller than Maevis would be, with almost an extra full month to grow inside of me. But emotionally, I didn't suffer nearly as much as I would when giving birth to Maevis, and Peeta and I both knew that that was what he had meant. When talking out loud, we had to use words that didn't compromise us, but we had a special unspoken language that only the two of us understood. It made being in the Capitol all the more bearable.

Later in the day, the doctor came to induce my labour, and I would labour all throughout the night so I could be ready to give birth right on schedule at ten in the morning. I was also given quite a high dosage of morphling, not enough to sleep but enough to take the pain away and feel a touch of the euphoric feeling of the morphling. I didn't sleep that night, as my head was spinning, but Peeta was passed out on the bed beside me. Lucky him, able to sleep through just about anything. His arm was draped over my abdomen and his head was resting on my shoulder, and with the hand that wasn't holding him, I reached up to brush a strand of his honey golden hair from his sweet face. He looked so much younger when he slept, as if he were still untouched by the horrors of the Games. Still innocent, still not knowing how much of a chunk of his personality it takes to kill another human being. Still blindly loving me without truly knowing me. Suddenly, his breathing started to quicken, and he opened his blue eyes to stare right into my grey ones, fear swimming in his eyes, and the moment he reached up to touch my face, the panic in his eyes dissipated, and he gave me a gentle smile.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, surprised by this display.

"I am now," he told me, shifting his head to kiss my shoulder.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I asked again, and he nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine, now that I know you're here... My nightmares are usually about losing you, and as soon as I wake up and see you safe beside me, I'm okay," he replied.

"Peeta," I said, taking him fully in my arms and pressing my lips to his temple. "I know no amount of me saying it will fully reassure you, but I'll never leave you... I won't allow it to happen."

"I know you won't. I just wish the nightmares would stop," he said quietly.

At nine in the morning, an hour before I was due to deliver, I could hear voices starting to gather on the other side of the window. The doctors were coming in to examine me to determine the dilation of my cervix and were monitoring Maevis's heart rate. Effie came in to wish us all luck, then said that she would have to miss the birth due to some important work, but she gave Peeta a handful of notecards. "When she's born, you're to announce her name and give a speech to the people of Panem," she told Peeta, who let out a sigh. Not even his first words about his daughter could be his. Snow had really taken everything away from us, didn't he?

At ten o'clock on the dot, the curtains were opened, and I was exposed for all the Capitolite buyers to see. There was a curtain up for me right over my belly, so really, I couldn't see anything, but I could feel all of their wretched eyes on my most intimate parts. I had to squeeze my eyes shut to prevent a tear from escaping, and Peeta caught it with his thumb. He gave me the best smile he could muster and gave my hand a squeeze while the doctor addressed the patrons. "People of the Capitol, you are here to witness the birth of the second child of the Star-Crossed Lovers of District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, victors of the 74th Hunger Games. I ask for silence out of consideration for the mother," he said, and I scoffed. Consideration, hm? If he cared about consideration, he'd have advocated for me to give birth in peace with no greedy eyes staring at me, and to give birth when Maevis was ready to come. I suppose like I was being forced to give birth early, Maevis was being forced to be born early, and neither of us had a say in the matter.

I still couldn't feel a thing, but I was instructed to push. My head was very cloudy from the morphling, as well as the stress and the panic of being out on display for all to see during what ought to be a rather private moment, so every sound I heard was muffled. I didn't make a sound, refusing to let these Capitolites hear a peep out of me, as I followed the doctor's instructions. Time passed very slowly, and Peeta's grip on my hand never loosened. He wasn't permitted to watch, so he stayed by my side and held my hand, talking to me the whole time, but I didn't hear a thing he said. I felt his lips on my head and then at my ear, could have sworn I heard him whisper the words, "You're almost done... I love you so much, my strong girl." Before I knew it, high-pitched cries erupted from the place between my legs, which could only mean one thing: the child had been born. I could hear the cheers of those nosy Capitol fools on the other side of the window and I felt Peeta's firm hand on the back of my head, the other on my shoulder. I couldn't take it anymore. I was dizzy from everything - the stress, the morphling, not knowing what was being done to me, not being able to hear a word that was said to me. My field of vision began to darken and shrink and the last thing I saw before I blacked out was Peeta's sky blue eyes.

When I woke up, it was hours later, and nurses were surrounding me chattering away about something. I heard Peeta shoo them away and ask them to leave me alone, claiming I was overwhelmed and needed to be left alone. They scowled at him, but agreed, and I felt the bed shift as Peeta sat down beside me. My eyes were squeezed shut as I shifted just slightly on the bed, sore from the birth and dizzy from just about everything else. I felt Peeta's hand take mine in his and give it a squeeze, and I finally opened my eyes, looking up to see the man I had come to love smiling down at me, holding a small bundle in his arms. "Hey," he said quietly. "Feeling better?"

"N-not really..." I replied weakly. "What... what... happened..."

"You fainted after the baby was born. The doctor thinks it was from the blood loss," Peeta replied, and I gave him a confused expression.

"Blood loss?" I asked, my eyes darting around the room to take in my surroundings. Sure enough, there was a bag of blood labelled 'AB+' hanging from a pole attached to my arm.

"He said you started hemorrhaging... then said it was too early for the baby to be born, but Snow didn't care. He wanted her born, and the doctor had to comply. You tore a little bit, too, down there..." So the doctor who rolled his eyes at me really did advocate for me and my safety, and once again, Snow didn't care. "Everything's okay now, though. You're safe, you're all stitched up and it's all over." I glanced up at the bundle in his arms.

"Is that..."

"Maevis? Yeah... the Capitol didn't really like what we chose, but it was still one of the names so they had to deal with it. The popular vote was apparently tied for Seraphina and Valentina." He looked down at his second daughter in his arms. "Do you... wanna hold her?" I shook my head, and a flash of confusion passed in his eyes.

"I... I don't feel very well still..." I said in defense, but really, I didn't want to hold that creation of the Capitol. Not yet, at least, until I absolutely had to, which I would eventually. "Describe her to me."

"Well... she looks a lot like you. Beautiful, brown hair, bright blue eyes... She's got your nose, and your smile."

"Babies don't smile at that age, Peeta..."

"It looks like a smile." He smiled sadly down at his daughter, then lowered his lips to her tiny forehead. "You know... she might be of Capitol creation... but she's still our daughter. I love her so much... I think you should hold her, Katniss." Damn, he knew me so well.

"I just want to sleep, Peeta," I told him, and he sighed.

"Very well... We'll try again later. You can try feeding her later, too. She's got some formula for now, but of course, nothing's better for a baby than-"

"Formula will be just fine," I said, interrupting him. His face fell a little, and he stood up from the bed, walking over to the small bassinet that had appeared in our room in February and placing the swaddled infant into it. He leaned down to kiss his daughter on the head, then turned to face me.

"I'm gonna go check on Lark. She hasn't met her little sister yet, but I'd like them to meet soon," he said. He then crossed over to the bed and leaned down to give me a kiss, but I only turned my head; he let out a sigh and then kissed my cheek, then left me alone with my thoughts.

I didn't hate Maevis. I want that to be known right off the bat, but Maevis didn't feel like she belonged to me. She really didn't belong to me, and truth to be told, neither did Lark. Both of them were children of the Capitol, even though they were born to two citizens of District Twelve. It felt... strange... to love Maevis - like I was loving some Capitol child as my own, even though she came from me and Peeta. I couldn't look at her, didn't want to hold her, couldn't feed her like I could Lark... I simply asked the nurse, when Peeta was out of the room, to bind my breasts and help me dry up my milk, cutting off even Lark from her own supply. I told Peeta that I couldn't feed either of them from my breast anymore because my milk ducts had dried up, but I don't think he believed me.

PEETA POV

Lark was crying on the day that we were finally to return home, and Katniss was still feeling weak, so I picked up my almost two-year-old daughter to carry to the train station, along with one of our bags. "Katniss, can you carry Maevis?" I asked my wife, and her eyes seemed to go wide with shock. "Please?"

"I..." she muttered, refusing to meet my eyes, and I let out a sigh.

"Katniss, she's your daughter, too. Please pick her up?" I asked again. Katniss hadn't held Maevis at all, which worried me a little. I knew that the idea of Maevis practically being a creation of the Capitol disturbed her, but Maevis was still our child. She was still conceived naturally and in an act of love, and she was still born naturally. Perhaps the trauma of being induced early and being watched by the Capitol was a bit much for her, so I'd try to take her to Dr. Gifford in Twelve when we got back, or even try to get Prim to talk to her. With a sigh, I set both Lark and the bag down on the bed, then picked Maevis up from the bassinet, depositing her in Katniss's arms. I knew Katniss wouldn't let her fall, so for the first time, Katniss held her second daughter in her arms. Her eyes darted up to mine as I backed away, then picked up Lark and the bag again. "Right, let's get going. We've got a train to catch."

She was quiet on the train ride home. She wasn't as opposed to holding Maevis anymore, but she still wouldn't look at her newborn daughter, nor would she even try to feed her. I thought it strange that she could feed Lark with no trouble for almost two years and then suddenly be unable to, but I didn't question her motives. None of this was easy on her, and I knew that, and I tried my best to be patient with her, but it was a lot harder than it looked.

Lark seemed to like her little sister, at least when she was quiet. When I introduced the sisters for the first time, Lark seemed entranced by her, until Maevis started to cry, to which Lark said, "No like! No like, Daddy!" I couldn't really blame her, either - no one liked the cries of a baby. Things didn't really change when we finally got home, not like I'd hoped. Katniss changed Maevis and held her for very short periods of time, but I was always the one feeding her from her bottle, and she never comforted Maevis. She claimed she just couldn't do it, and then she would lay in bed for hours not even bothering to move. I tried asking Agnessa to speak to her, and Prim as well, but no one could get through to her. She seemed dead to the world, running only on autopilot. It only made me want to rebel more.

It shouldn't be this way. Katniss shouldn't be so depressed that she can't get out of bed, made so by the forced birth of a child she was unprepared for, her trauma broadcast across the Capitol for all to see. It was filmed for those who didn't pay to see it in person, and I couldn't bear to watch it. It was horrifying, really - all the blood that came out of her. I turned off the television and tried not to think about it, but the blood would only give me nightmares. Thinking back to my wife and newborn daughter, Maevis should be loved by her mother as equally as her sister was, and it wasn't fair that Katniss struggled to learn to love our younger daughter thanks to what Snow and the Capitol put her through. She pretended to for any cameras that came, but that was about the extent of her feelings towards her child. I only wish I could rebel on my own and not have to try to convince Katniss to front it. I wish that I could be what Alpha called their Mockingjay instead, but she wanted Katniss. I felt helpless in the entire situation.

The year 2161 turned into 2162, and I sat alone in my living room feeding Maevis while Lark slept with her head in my lap, Katniss lying upstairs in bed. It had now been almost two months since Maevis was born, and the situation hadn't improved. I couldn't sit back and let Katniss reject our daughter anymore.

"Katniss, get up," I said firmly to my wife early the next day. She didn't answer me. "Katniss, I'm serious. I've had enough of you laying in bed all day wasting away and not giving a damn about what's going on around you." Still no answer. I crossed to the bed and pulled the covers off of her, then grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her to sit.

"Peeta, please," she muttered, wanting to be left alone.

"No, you've had your time to sit in bed and be sad. Lark and Maevis need their mother, Katniss, and in case you've forgotten, that's you . I can't give them the love that only a mother can, you have to do that. I can't take care of two children all on my own, I need your help with that. We created both of these girls together and you've completely abandoned me, and them, too! How could you do this to your daughters, Katniss?"

"Leave me alone," she said, fighting to pull her arms from my grasp, but I was relentless. I picked her up by her midsection and set her on her feet, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to Maevis's bedroom. "Peeta! Peeta, stop!"

"Enough is enough, Katniss," I said, stopping at the door and turning to face her. "I love you to death, but I will not sit back and let you neglect our children. You've turned into the exact thing that you feared most - you've turned into Agnessa, when your uncle died." It was a low blow, but I wasn't wrong. "Now, you go in there and you learn to love our daughter the same way you love Lark, and the same way that your mother loved you. Just because she was forced on you by Snow doesn't mean that she doesn't deserve to be loved any less. Her being here is not her fault. Do not blame her for what's been done to you."

"Peeta... I... I can't..." she muttered, fighting off tears in her eyes.

"You can, and you will," I told her. It broke my heart to see her so beaten down and broken by Snow and the Capitol, but I couldn't let up. Maevis wasn't at fault for what had been done to Katniss, and I refused to let her take the blame out on her own daughter. I opened the door and gave Katniss a shove into it, then stood in the doorway to block it. The room was dark, on the backside of the house, and Maevis slept peacefully in her crib - or at least, she did, until she heard me raising my voice at Katniss. Maevis began to cry, and I refused to be the one to comfort her. Katniss had to do it. I knew she had it in her to love that child, but the mind does crazy things, or at least, that's what the psychology book that I snatched from Haymitch's house had said. 'Postpartum Depression', it had said to define Katniss's condition - it was depression following the birth of a child. Sometimes, it could be brought on by trauma that happened during the pregnancy, and sometimes, it happened just because. It was obvious which case we were dealing with.

I watched as Katniss looked back at me, and then at the crib, where our crying daughter lay waiting to be comforted, and Katniss carefully approached it. She looked down into the crib, at our beautiful daughter with my sky blue eyes and Katniss's rich chocolate brown hair, seemingly contemplating for a moment if she should run or not - if she could run, maybe, since I was blocking the door. "Pick her up, Katniss," I told her calmly, encouraging her. She didn't right away - instead, her hands rested on the crib as she looked down at our baby, still crying and screaming for her mother, and then she reached one hand down into the crib to touch Maevis's small little face. It worked just a little, but Maevis longed to be held by her mother. Finally breaking herself from her spell, Katniss reached into the crib with her hands and gently lifted the infant from the crib, first holding her away from her body to examine her, and then she held Maevis tight against her chest.

"Shh, shh..." she said to our daughter, supporting her in her arms and gently rubbing Maevis's back. " Tha mi duilich, m'eudail ." She spoke in Gàidhlig to our daughter, the same way she spoke to Lark sometimes. I didn't know exactly what it meant, but I think it was an apology. She said it sometimes to Lark when she stepped on or kicked one of her toys by mistake. Maevis continued to cry in Katniss's arms.

"Sing to her," I said quietly. Without looking at me, Katniss turned her head to gently press her lips against Maevis's head, and she began to sing.

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,

Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond...

Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond...

O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak' low road,

And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye,

But me and my true love will never meet again,

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond...

It was an old folk song that I sometimes heard the miners sing, particularly the Hebridean ones. It dated from the Old Days long ago, before the Dark Days and before Panem was even Panem, and probably before Hebridia was even Hebridia. I didn't know exactly what 'Scotland' was, but I'm guessing it was a place, maybe even the land that used to be Hebridia.

Maevis's cries quieted as her mother held and comforted her and sang to her quietly, and I took the opportunity to walk up behind her and wrap my arms tightly around my wife and my two-month-old daughter. "I'm sorry, Peeta..." she whispered to me, but I shook my head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I replied quietly, so as not to disturb Maevis. I kissed my beloved wife's temple. "I swear to you that I will do anything I can to protect you and our daughters... Anything, Katniss. Nothing will ever hurt you ever again." She thought I meant that I would do anything to appease Snow, but she didn't know that I already had my own plans of rebellion forming in my head. Right now, it was too dangerous for her to know... She wouldn't agree no matter what I said. Well, maybe she didn't have to agree. Maybe I could use that 'golden tongue' that everyone claimed I had to influence Alpha into letting me be this Mockingjay that she so desperately wanted. Katniss didn't have to know a thing.

KATNISS POV

For about a month, things were pretty okay. I was still sad, and sometimes I still had a bad day, but Peeta was always supportive of me and brought me cheese buns and hot chocolate to get through the day, as long as I didn't shut him or our daughters out. Every day, I began to love Maevis a little more, and I stopped blaming her for being born. Peeta was right, it wasn't her fault, and she didn't deserve to be loved any less because of how she was brought into the world. She ended up having quite the personality, loving to laugh and seeming to be extra ticklish, which Peeta indulged himself on just to hear her little giggles.

"You have to protect your little sister," I told Lark when me and my two girls were sitting on mine and Peeta's bed. "It's a big sister's job to make sure her little sister is safe."

"I protek Meevis!" Lark exclaimed in her sweet little toddler voice. Truthfully, it was the sweetest thing to see the two sisters interacting. Of course, Lark had her mischievous moments where she would pinch her little sister to get a reaction, and she got properly scolded and punished accordingly, but for the most part, Lark was an excellent big sister.

Peeta could finally leave me alone with both Lark and Maevis around the time of the Victory Tour, and this time, we left our children with Agnessa and Prim when the victor, Delectra Altra from District Five, came through to visit Twelve. She'd said she hadn't known much about either of our tributes, but she and Millie had made a game out of learning the edible plants in training, and she'd stopped Vick from eating a poisonous plant in the arena, sparing his life - or delaying the inevitable. Compared to the previous year's victor, Delectra was quiet and kind, and she held no disrespect for the tributes she had outlived.

When February came, the snow came with it - all kinds of snow. I was upstairs tending to Maevis one chilly morning - Peeta was next door with Haymitch to check on him - and I heard a sound downstairs. Thinking it was Peeta coming home, I finished up tending to Maevis and carried her downstairs. "Peeta?" I called, poking my head into the kitchen, but he wasn't there. I heard Lark giggle from the living room, which could only mean that Peeta was there greeting his older daughter, so I left the kitchen - and then stopped, frozen in place, in the doorway of the living room. There, sitting on my couch, was President Snow, holding Lark on his lap. She was giggling as she showed him a doll that she had gotten at her first birthday party in the Capitol, and President Snow seemed quite amused with her.

"Mrs. Mellark, have a seat," said Snow, acknowledging my existence and gesturing for me to sit down in an armchair across from him - in my own home. Careful not to show my fear, I sat down in the armchair with Maevis, now three months old, on my lap. "How are you faring, Mrs. Mellark? I understand there were... complications... following the birth of your child."

"Yes... I... had a touch of... postpartum depression, but, I am doing better now," I replied, feigning a smile. He nodded.

"Excellent. I am glad you are in optimal health," Snow replied. "Surely, you know why I am here?" Confusion knitted itself into my brow and I shook my head.

"I'm afraid not, President Snow," I replied, and he chuckled gently.

"Of course you wouldn't, would you?" Was he going to be cryptic now? "Better you don't know. Tell me, how is motherhood treating you?"

"Very well, I love my girls more than anything in the world," I replied, squeezing Maevis a little closer to me, and she let out a whine.

"Miss Maevis is looking very healthy."

"She is. She's a very healthy baby, thanks to the efforts of the Capitol." Snow paused for a moment, likely contemplating his next move. "Mrs. Mellark, I am not sure if you are aware... but it is a requirement for victors to produce at least one heir of each sex."

"I was not aware of that, no."

"You are now. Your next child is to be male, Mrs. Mellark. I do hope you see to it."

"President Snow, forgive me, but I can assure you that I have no way of controlling that. The gender is... completely random. It's a fifty percent change for a boy or a girl."

"Not in the Capitol. We can... correct... the sex of the next child you conceive while still in the womb." My throat went dry. Correct? Change the sex of my child? If they could do that, then what the hell else could they do to my child? "Where is Mr. Mellark today?"

"He... he's next door, visiting Haymitch... m-making sure he's... alive and all..."

"I see," said Snow, amused with making me uncomfortable. "And does he do this often?"

"Haymitch doesn't have any family, so... we've sort of become his family... Peeta likes to take care of people who need it, so... he's taken it upon himself to make sure that Haymitch is fed and all."

"How many times a day would you say he goes to visit Mr. Abernathy?" Why exactly was this relevant?

"I don't know... He doesn't visit every day, but he usually will visit in the mornings to bring him some fresh bread. He's never there for more than an hour. Why? What is this about?"

"Nothing for you to worry your dear little head about. You are doing well, Mrs. Mellark. Our arrangement is proving beneficial to us both." He lifted Lark from his lap and set her on her feet, then stood from the couch. "I must be on my way. You have a year and a half to produce another child, Mrs. Mellark. When you conceive, you will be brought to the Capitol to see if any... corrections... need to be made."

"A year and a half?" I asked out loud.

"A year and a half. Good day to you, Mrs. Mellark. We shall meet again in July, for the Hunger Games." With that said, he made his way out of the room, and I wanting to seem comfortable with my rather unexpected guest stood with Maevis on my hip and followed him to the door. When he descended the stairs, escorted by two peacekeepers, Peeta exited Haymitch's house and froze where he stood, his eyes on President Snow and watching him very carefully. "Good day to you, Mr. Mellark," Snow said to him.

"President Snow," Peeta replied neutrally, not missing a beat. Snow stepped into a black car that awaited him, and the black car drove off, neither Peeta nor me moving until it was out of sight. When it finally cleared the hill, Peeta ran to me and threw his arms around me, embracing me tightly and causing Maevis to cry.

"What was that about?" he whispered into my ear urgently.

"He wants us to have another, a boy... by next summer..." I said, pulling back from his embrace just a little to soothe Maevis. "And he was asking about you and your visits to Haymitch." At that, his eyes widened, and he tensed up. I thought this a very strange reaction for a daily task as innocent as delivering bread to our mentor.

"What did you tell him?" he whispered to me quietly.

"The truth, that you were bringing him bread and checking up on him," I replied, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "That is the truth, yes?"

"Yes... of course..." he replied, but something told me that it couldn't be farther from the truth. "Let's... let's get inside, it's too cold out here for her..." He was referring to Maevis, and he ushered us inside, closing the door behind him. Though we never locked our doors - never had to - I heard him slide the lock into place. His entire demeanour changed when Lark ran into the foyer and latched herself onto his leg.

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, and Peeta's face lit up.

"Hey, there, honeybun!" he said, picking her up and kissing her on the cheek. He gave me a smile, then went into the kitchen, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Peeta was up to something, and that he was keeping it from me.

A/N: Will Katniss find out what Peeta's up to, and why Snow seems so interested in his visits with Haymitch? What will it do to their relationship?

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