This chapter started off with me wondering how on earth I could bring "five golden rings" up to an acceptable word count. Somehow it ended up as my longest chapter yet. Please enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading.

Five Golden Rings

Katniss needed answers. So the morning after, she shrugged on her father's coat, grabbed some of the money she had made yesterday, and headed to the Hob.

The black market had frightened her once, when she had first started trading alone. It was a nightmare to navigate for a callow little girl with its ever-changing labyrinth of makeshift stalls and the gruff, rough patrons that frequented them. Now it was her second home, third when she included the forest, and the vendors greeted her like fond aunts and uncles.

She swung herself up onto a stool at Greasy Sae's improvised counter and pushed forward a couple of coins.

'What do you fancy?' the elderly woman called to her from beside her large kettle of simmering broth.

'You mean between meat stew, meat stew and meat stew?' Katniss asked, bestowing an insouciant grin on her oldest and most generous game buyer. 'Hey, why not? I'll shake it up a bit and go for the meat stew.'

Sae cackled. 'Coming right up, my dear.'

She ladled some of the stew into a bowl and handed it to Katniss, sweeping the coins off the counter with the other hand. Katniss dug in. The meat in the stew was, as always, completely unidentifiable. Katniss didn't even know if it was something she had shot yesterday. It was no use asking the woman herself. According to Sae, everything was beef once it entered her pot. That didn't fail to make it delicious and a source of much needed warmth in this relentless cold. She imagined how it would go with a cheese bun, fresh from the oven. And then she shot that image down with a flaming arrow.

'Sae,' Katniss leaned confidentially over her stew, 'there's something else you can help me with. I'm looking for some information.'

'Well, I'll try my best.'

'Do you know what…Christmas is?' she asked, carefully imitating Peeta's pronunciation.

'What? I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm a cook, not a – a whatever you need to be to know what that is.'

'You know people though, Sae. Everyone comes to your stall. Does anyone stand out to you for knowing their ancient history?'

'How ancient is this history we're talking about here?'

'Like pre-Panem ancient.'

'Let me think.'

'I know of a place where you can find such information,' a hooded figure sitting further down the counter said.

'Who is that?' Katniss asked, frowning at the stranger whose somewhat unplanned air of mystery was heightened by the way the stew billowed steam around his hidden face.

'Who am I?' the man asked, spooning up some broth and taking a sip. 'I – whoa, Sae, easy on the pepper! You could choke a pig with this.'

Katniss stretched over and flipped off the man's hood, revealing Katniss's favourite, red-headed Peacekeeper. 'Darius.'

'That's it,' Sae said, amusedly enough, 'I'll make it without the pepper and then we'll see how easy it is to pretend it's beef.'

'Why were you hiding your face like that?' Katniss had to ask.

'I was trying to look cool for you,' Darius pouted. 'I guess Sae's murderous soup put an end to that.'

'You're welcome to leave, Darius. Your ass is taking up the place of a more willing customer's.'

'No, I'll stay! You know how much I secretly love your concoctions, Sae,' he said with a charming grin that, while pretty inferior to Peeta's, worked well enough on the motherly old woman.

'I should think so,' the woman nodded smartly, before leaving to serve another customer.

'So,' Katniss shuffled onto Darius's neighbouring stool, dragging her bowl with her, 'what's the place?'

'I'll tell you for a kiss,' the impious young man said.

'Pass.'

'No need to say that so quickly!'

'Come on, Darius. I don't have to put up with you, but I do.'

'Is that the best you've got? Fine, I'll tell you because I'm in a generous mood today. Must be the pepper. What you want is the Justice Building.'

'The Justice Building?'

That place was an extremely grand and equally underused building on the more affluent side of town. Katniss had been there once for one of its rare ceremonies. She had stood beside Gale on its polished, marble floors and received her medal of honour on behalf of her father, who had died in the District's service. Sometimes, she thought it was used for weddings, but certainly not by anyone from the Seam. Perhaps there were council meetings there too, though Katniss couldn't profess to know much about the district's political conventions.

'What could I find at the Justice Building?'

'Well, Miss Everdeen, it so happens that there is a library in the basement filled with all sorts of historical documents, perhaps some that could even answer your questions.'

Katniss perked up. 'And anyone could get in?'

'It's meant to be a place of public learning, not that you teenagers have time for that sort of thing usually.'

Katniss rolled her eyes. She doubted that he was even five years older than she was. 'All right, thanks for the tip, Darius. Have the rest of my stew, on me.'

She slid from her stool and set off for the Justice Building to the backdrop of Darius muttering, 'I would have preferred the kiss.'

…

An unpleasant surprise awaited her at the Justice Building library.

'Katniss, didn't expect to see you here,' Cato said with his habitual smirk.

'Ditto,' she replied wholeheartedly. 'Entertaining the rainbow rabble?'

'Yeah, we're on the last leg. Turns out Capitolites actually like a bit of history. I just put on a couple of vids and leave them to it. What are you here for?'

'Research.' She had to be very careful here. After all, it was highly likely that Cato was her secret admirer. He was certainly obtuse enough to send her three talking chickens and expect her to appreciate it.

'What kind?'

'Just history stuff, you know.'

'Want any help?'

'No, don't worry about it. You've got your Capitol kids to look after, make sure they don't cause anymore cave-ins. I value my life.'

'All right. I'm actually kind of relieved. Books make my eyes swim, and I can't exactly imagine this district's history being that interesting. Coal this, coal that. Kill me now, no offence.'

Asking her to kill him was the least offensive thing he had said to her since they first met.

'I'll be heading over there now, see you around.' She hoped she wouldn't.

The further she walked into the musty room, the older the history got. There was an abundance of literature on the banal goings-on of District Twelve: the innovations in coal extraction, the complete catalogue of miner's strikes, the changes in government. Then there were videos on the Dark Days, some Katniss could swear were borrowed by her school. They were meaningless propaganda, written by the victorious Capitol, glossing over the facts in its rush to paint the district-born rebels as villains. Along the back wall sat the pre-Panem books.

There was no pattern to them, no theme. The books were whatever had been foraged, saved from decay or complete destruction. They were old, frayed and wrapped up in protective sleeves. Some were missing covers; others looked like a mere touch would cause them to disintegrate. There were blackened books, faded books, books filled with holes. She didn't think all of them were factual either. She took down what must have once been a brightly coloured book, "The Hungry Caterpillar" it was called. It was rigid, made from something denser than paper. She thought that it might have been for children once. The sight of all the food depicted inside of it made her put it back.

Then she began her real search. She gathered all books that mentioned Christmas in their titles and set them down on the nearest table. There were some that helpfully explained "Christmas traditions" to her, accompanied by bright illustrations of rosy-cheeked children gathering around fir trees, looking inside oversized socks, crowding together in the snow to sing at the doorsteps of smiling old ladies.

Christmas carols, Katniss discovered they sang. "A Christmas Carol", by a man named Charles Dickens, appeared to have very little to do with singing in the snow. The callous protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge, seemed to have a similar attitude to all of this Christmas hubbub that she would, if she were alive then. Or maybe she wouldn't. Maybe a world where people could take a whole day out to spread goodness and cheer would have made a pleasanter person of her.

She didn't read all of a Christmas Carol because the language was strangely worded, almost alien to her, but she managed to find a book of real Christmas carols. One of the entries greatly surprised her.

'Twelve days of Christmas,' she read aloud. 'On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree.' That sounded far too familiar for her liking, so she tried the next line. 'On the Second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree.'

Apparently on the third day, three French hens were given, and on the fourth, there were four calling birds. Katniss slammed the book shut before she could read on. By all means, she should want to know what awaited her in the following days so that she could prepare herself. She just felt so nauseated. What idiot read some Christmas carol from hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago and thought that it would be a good idea to put into practice? What sort of men did she attract? Cato. He was in here every three days on his District Twelve tour. No, please no.

Katniss picked up another book and tried to find out what these twelve days of Christmas actually were. After all, she had only just discovered that Christmas was a day. Why in Panem were there suddenly twelve?

…

When Peeta arrived that day, she was primed to attack. Prim was beside her, ready to strike in her own way.

'Hi Katniss, hi Prim,' he smiled at the Everdeen sisters as soon as the door was opened for him. 'How are you today?'

'Enlightened,' Katniss said.

Peeta blinked at her in confusion before turning to Prim. 'Did you enjoy the fruit pastries?'

'Yes!' Prim cheered.

'Great.'

'Would you like to come in, Peeta?' Katniss asked calmly.

The boy's mouth parted in shock before he once again regained control over his face. 'What, as in the yesterday kind of come in, or…?'

'Ooh, Katniss. What happened yesterday?!'

'The standard you're-our-guest kind of come in,' Katniss told him, prodding Prim in the side.

'Oh, well, thank you. May I hang up my coat?'

'Sure, go ahead.'

Peeta flipped off his cap and shrugged off his coat, and Katniss had her first proper glimpse at his labour-honed physique, chiselled and muscular and filling his deep-green sweater to perfection. For some reason, Katniss almost swore, but stopped herself by biting down on her lip. From behind, Prim was gesturing madly at him and tapping her own shoulders.

Yes, he had nice shoulders, Katniss could see that for herself thank you very much.

'So, er, should I sit down or something?' Peeta asked.

'Of course,' Katniss gestured him into the living room, 'yeah, sit down.'

'Make yourself at home,' Prim added in a highly expressive tone.

'Hello, Peeta dear.'

Oh no, not her mom.

'Hello, Mrs Everdeen,' he replied pleasantly, smiling up at her from his seat on the couch. 'My dad wanted me to pass on his thanks for your herbal salve. He says it's done wonders for his back.'

'Not in half as many words, I'm sure,' Mrs Everdeen chuckled fondly.

It was well-known among all of them that Peeta's father had once tried to court Katniss's mother. Nevertheless, the two had remained cordial ever since.

'No,' Peeta replied, laughing with her.

This was ridiculous. If Katniss's laughs were rare, her mother's were critically endangered. What was this boy doing to her entire family?

'Well, that's nice of you to come and visit, Mom,' Katniss said, guiding the woman away before she could invent similarities between this scenario and how Katniss's father had proposed again. 'Weren't you doing something before in the kitchen though?'

'Do you want anything, Peeta?' Mrs Everdeen called over her shoulder.

'Oh, no thanks, Mrs Everdeen. I don't want to impose.'

'Nonsense, you're having tea. I've managed to infuse it with pear and ginger.'

'That sounds delicious, thank you.'

'Mom, you're so embarrassing,' Katniss hissed.

'It sounds like strenuous work delivering all of these gifts to you, and this is how you repay him? Someone at least should show him some gratitude.'

Gratitude? Katniss had let Peeta into her forest. That was far more meaningful than a mug of pear tea. Of course she said none of this to her. Instead, she stormed back into the living room where Peeta and Prim were chatting amicably. They both beamed up at her as she approached, identically oblivious to her irascible mood.

'I did some poking about today,' Katniss said. 'About Christmas, about these gifts, everything.'

'Tell us then,' Prim said.

'Shoot,' Peeta agreed with a smile.

'Never tell her to shoot. She's so literal,' Prim giggled.

'Really?'

'Yeah, there was this one time when–'

Katniss cleared her throat and the two blonds behaved.

'Your employer got it completely wrong. He based this whole process on a song.'

'Will you sing it for us?' Peeta asked.

'No,' Katniss answered flatly. 'The song is about the Twelve Days of Christmas and what the singer's true love has given them on each of those days, but my "true love" didn't do their research properly. The twelve days were a religious holiday, sometimes called Christmastide, beginning on what people once called Christmas day and finishing on Twelfth Night.

'At first I had no idea what that meant until I worked out the pre-Panem calendar system. They used this thing call the Gregorian calendar which divided the year into twelve months, all with names.'

'Why is it always twelve?' Prim asked.

'No idea. Christmas was the 25th of December, which meant nothing to me until I realised that the winter solstice is four days before that. Right now, the winter solstice is three days away so today would be the 18th of December, meaning that whoever this gift-giver is, he hasn't checked his dates. At the rate this is going, the last present will be given on what would have once been Christmas Day, instead of the first present.'

Now her little spiel was over, Katniss took a deep breath and beamed proudly at the two blond teenagers sitting on her couch. Not knowing what else to do, Peeta clapped.

'What's Christmas Day? Prim asked.

'That's irrelevant. Peeta, you need to tell your employer that he's wrong and needs to stop sending me gifts immediately.'

'But he's putting so much effort into it,' Peeta protested with impossibly large blue eyes.

'Damn you, I have rights.'

'Today's one must have really cost him,' he stubbornly pressed on.

'Really? What is it this time? A dancing duck? A piano-playing peacock? A–?'

Katniss's words died on her tongue when Peeta brandished a slim, black box, about the size of a harmonica, and opened it to reveal five exquisite rings. Prim took over, screaming and babbling excitedly, fawning over each one and urging Katniss to just look. Katniss crept forward, as if the box was brimming with poisonous serpents, not gold, and said, 'Do you know how much we could sell these for?'

Prim's jubilation shattered. 'You can't sell them.'

'What use are they on my fingers, Prim? These could go to someone who would actually appreciate them, and we could get something that we appreciate for ourselves.'

Inexplicably, Prim looked close to tears. 'Please don't sell them.'

'Think of what we could get for them, though? We could buy everything we need. You need a new coat, warmer shoes. And we could buy nice things as well. We could buy all the cupcakes you want.'

'But they're for you. You can't give them away.'

'There's nothing else to do, Prim. They're useless here. By your logic, we should have kept those talking hens too.'

'That's different.'

'It's not. Please, Prim, just grow up a bit and you'll see–'

'This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to either of us! You're so lucky, Katniss. After all that hard work you've done for me and Mom, you're getting your rewards. And you deserve it, and I'm so happy for you. Why can't you be happy for yourself?'

Before Katniss could defend herself, Prim ran from the room and thundered up the stairs. Katniss made to follow her, but Peeta grabbed her by the arm, briefly, haltingly, yet it was enough to stop her.

'What did I say wrong?' Katniss asked. 'I don't know what I did.'

'Was she ever into fairy tales?'

Katniss looked at him oddly, but replied, 'She loved them.'

'To her, this is a fairy tale, or the closest she could ever come to seeing one. And you, her beloved sister who she wants the world for, are the princess, the hero. Have you ever seen the hero deny her own tale and the happiness that comes with it? I don't think Prim has.'

'So I should take the rings, pretend to love them and let them gather dust in my drawer.'

Peeta looked down at them thoughtfully. 'I'll make you a bet. If I win, you have to keep them. If you win, I'll take them back, like with the hens, who by the way are now in the possession of a vivacious pink-haired Capitolite named Effie Trinket, thanks for asking.'

Katniss sat in Prim's vacated seat, arms folded. 'What's the bet?'

'Look at the rings. There's got to be one that you wouldn't mind wearing.' Slowly, Katniss nodded. 'Right, then I'll guess. If I guess right, they're all yours. If I guess wrong, then they're gone. It's a one in five chance. The odds are very much in your favour.'

'Fine, I've chosen my favourite.'

'All right.' Peeta turned the ring box to face him and looked through the rings. Katniss waited for him to choose the most ostentatious ring and be done with it. Unconsciously, she leaned over so she could watch his progress, her forehead bumping his.

The first ring to his left, her right, was embedded with emeralds. 'You seem like a green kind of girl.'

'What makes you say that?'

'I don't know. Forests, nature, life, they all scream green as much as they scream you. This next one is nice, I suppose.' The gold ring contained a central band that was inlaid with diamonds. 'And this middle one.'

The middle one was the sort of ring that any sane girl would choose. It was gorgeous, intricately carved white gold with three large, finely cut diamonds hemmed with pearls. 'It's like a snowstorm,' Katniss said.

Peeta looked sharply up at her before returning his gaze once more. 'And this one's like fire,' he commented, indicating the ruby ring.

The last ring was contrastingly plain, little more than a golden band with a delicate rendering of a bird where there would normally be jewels. And Katniss had thought she had escaped birds today.

'All right, I've picked,' Peeta announced, and he picked up the plain golden band. His eyes found hers. 'Was I right?'

Katniss could lie. She could argue that most girls would go for the most elaborate, most beautiful, most costly ring and didn't he know any better? 'Yes,' she said.

Smiling softly, he took her left hand in his and slid the ring onto her fourth finger. Katniss breathed deeply.

'Look closer at the bird.'

Katniss did, holding the ring up to her eye. 'A mockingjay.'

Peeta smiled. 'That's definitely your ring, Katniss.'

'I can give the rest to Prim, and Mom.'

'Sounds like a good plan.'

Peeta's smile wouldn't abate until Katniss returned it, which she did, looking away. Always looking away. At that moment, Katniss's mother returned with three piping mugs of tea.

'Where's Primrose?'

'Upstairs,' Katniss and Peeta chorused.

'Oh,' Mrs Everdeen said, then her eyes fell to the ring on Katniss's finger, 'oh. I see. What a lovely gesture. Though Katniss, you are definitely too young to be getting married.'

'Who said anything about marrying?' Katniss protested.

'I'd like to meet this "true love" of yours,' she said, setting two of the cups down. 'I have quite a lot to tell him about ground rules.'

Katniss groaned, but Peeta laughed and thanked her for the tea.

'Delicious,' Peeta said, smiling into his cup.

'Don't get smug,' Katniss snapped, though she wasn't truly angry. In fact, it was strange how at ease she felt.

'You're always welcome to some more,' Mrs Everdeen beamed, looking extremely pleased. 'Whenever you're passing by.'

'Thank you very much, Mrs Everdeen, but I don't think Katniss would be able to cope with me being around all the time.'

Katniss scowled into her tea.

'Nonsense, you're a joy, Peeta.'

'A joy,' Peeta repeated as soon as Katniss's mother had left the room.

'Shut up,' Katniss grunted before taking a hearty gulp of tea.

'Make sure to sign the fourth and fifth day on that sheet. We forgot yesterday.'

'You forgot.'

'But apart from that, I've been good, right?'

Katniss considered him carefully, rather unused to him digging for compliments. 'You're all right. What are you smiling for?'

'From you, all right means outstanding.'

Katniss said nothing in response to this, but some voice inside her admitted that in this case, outstanding wasn't much of an exaggeration.

AN: halenahaloway: Wow, golden! How apt for this chapter. In all seriousness, thank you so much for the positive response. Anonymous: I'm glad you think that this is better than a crack!fic! And yes, Peeta the babe magnet! I like the sound of that.

Major gratitude to all the readers, favouriters, followers and reviewers.