Hey there! Sorry for the late update. Life got in the way, what with my internship and getting ready for college. Anyways, here's the one I was supposed to get up last month. It's crazy long for me, so I hope you're happy. I should have the one I wanted up for this month up soon. It's in the works so it should be soon, provided I get any kinda time to work on it. My family's moving across country so my house is filled with boxes and I have, like, zero time to myself to do anything. Ah well. C'est la vie.

Song of Inspiration is "A Promise" from the musical Next to Normal. It's one of those double songs, so if you want to listen to it look up "Why Stay/A Promise" from the musical. I've been wanting to do a fic for this song for a really long time now, but just didn't know how to go about it. Then one day I was at work and it was like BAM! idea. Took me forever to get it up and running though. It starts out from Peeta's point of view then switches to Katniss for clarification. It after MJ, so I took a little bit of liberties with things. Remember, I own nothing.

A promise a boy says forever
A boy says whatever may come will come through
and who can know how when all I know now to be true,
is this promise that I made to you.
A question a boy wonders whether (a boy wonders
should I stay) should I stay together the way that they stay
(ohhh either way) for year after year for love or fear either way
thats the promise that I made that day
Here's what I say to the girl who was burning so brightly
Like the light from Orion above
And still I will search for her nightly if you see her please send her my love
And the boy was a boy for all seasons
That boy is long lost to me now (long lost, so lost)
And the man has forgotten his reasons (his reasons ohhh)
But the man still remembers his vow.
A promise a man says forever
A man says I'll never regret or let you
The promise I made to stay and I stay true.
Knowing one day we'd remember that joy You'd remember that girl
I'd remember that boy till we do
The promise I made I'll make it brand new.
A promise that I made to you.

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A Promise

I stare at myself in the mirror and try not to make faces. But I can't help it. My eyes cross and my tongue pops out from in between my lips. I see Gale raise an eyebrow at me from over my shoulder and I return my face to normal, giving him a sheepish grin. He just rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me and goes back to trying to smooth out my tie.

It's just all so ridiculous. Every little bit of it. From the flowers and cake – I wasn't even allowed to touch it – to the amount of people that turned up for this. Like we're our own little Games. Effie whispered to me last night that it was even going to be televised. As if the two of us hadn't been seen enough on every television screen in the country already. Something tells me it was Plutarch's idea. To publicize that things were indeed getting better if something like this could happen.

I chuckle at the thought. Things had gotten better. Not only in the country but also in our own lives. My flashbacks have been less and less lately. Nowadays, I only have one or two a season. The bakery is staying afloat; business is good and it's picking up slightly. Soon I'll have to hire someone to help just to meet the daily quota.

And everything at home is perfect. She's calm as can be, only getting the wild look when it's just the two of us in our most private moments. And then the wildness in her eye isn't something of fear, but rather something incredibly different. The first time, I think it scared her, the feel of the rush of passion and heat. She had pushed herself away from me, putting distance between what she didn't know and what she was comfortable with. But eventually…

"What are you smiling at?" Gale's voice cuts through my thoughts. I realize I'm grinning like a fool, my eyes gleaming with something that I recognize from her eyes. My cheeks become tinged with pink and I let loose a breath of a laugh. Again, Gale raises an eyebrow at me.

"On second thought, I don't want to know." He says with a snort of amusement.

"It's not what you're thinking." I lie.

"Sure it isn't." He nods, giving me a knowing look before laughing out right at me. "Please. You forget, Peeta, I got married too. You think I didn't think about Johanna like you're thinking about Katniss?"

"That's disgusting." I say.

"You're disgusting." He shoots back. "You're the one doing it."

I shake my head at him, but don't deny it. He knows. He's been through this before. I simply hold out my hand for my tie.

It's been two years since Gale and Johanna's wedding and, as far as I can tell, they're the picture of happiness. They fit well together. The fire Katniss had talked about seems to still be there – they fight about everything – but it is, for the most part, something like a campfire; warm and beautiful to watch, but still nasty if you make it angry. You can't deny the joy they have; it's plain to see on their faces, even after two years of marriage. And now they have a son, Pan, who follows Gale everywhere if he isn't attached to his mother. It's frightening how much Pan looks like his father, except for his mother's eyes. Katniss swears he's going to be exactly like Gale when he's older, but I think Johanna will be more of an effect, seeing they're constantly together.

I smile at myself in the mirror as I work at my tie. Katniss spends a fair amount of time with Pan now, too. Gale and Johanna decided to move back to 12 after the birth of their child. Something about not wanting to raise a kid in the city. Katniss had rolled her eyes at that reason and muttered under her breath about Gale's family. They moved into my house in the Victors Village, since I wasn't using it anymore, and will drop Pan at our home when they want a few hours off. For the first few days, it was just me and him, baking and trying to teach him to paint and anything else we could find to do. And then Katniss figured out he wasn't going to break at the slightest touch. They got along so well, there was a whole week where Pan stayed with us before Johanna got separation anxiety. Johanna. With separation anxiety. The irony was not lost on the four of us.

"You did it wrong." Gale points out with a teasing tone. I blink and look more carefully at my tie. Damn it. I did do it wrong. I give a huff of frustration as I tear at the knot to do it over. My fingers start to shake slightly and I'm having issues telling them what to do.

"Here." Gale puts his hand on my shoulder before ridding me of the strip of cloth. He rolls his eyes at me as if he can't believe what an idiot I am. But there's a glint of amusement and understanding in them that keeps me from biting his head off. Instead, I nod my thanks and sink into the chair next to me.

"Breathe." He commands, looking at me through the reflection in the mirror. "You'll be fine."

I nod, but work to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. Where did this come from? This unexpected anxiety. This sudden nervousness. My mouth's gone dry and I'm pulling at my collar, trying to get some air.

"Hey," Gale says, turning around and looking me in the eye, "you'll be fine."

I stare at him before nodding slowly and running my hand through my hair. The prep team will have a fit when they see I've touched it, and the thought makes me laugh. Katniss was right; they are like little pets, obsessing over silly things like how my hair needs to be gelled just so. Nothing can be wrong for today.

Nothing will be wrong, I vow, my confidence coming back. I check myself in the mirror as Gale returns my bowtie to me, perfectly knotted in place. I look good, I tell myself. But not as good as she'll look. She'll be the picture of perfection. The thought fills my mind as Gale ushers me out the door.

"Ready?"

I reach in my pocket for the napkin I know is there, fiddling with it. I probably won't need it, but it's good just to have for notes. Just in case.

"Ready."

My hands clench around the loose fabric in my skirt so hard my knuckles turn white. My breath catches in my throat as the door before me opens a crack, but it's just Pan who slips through. He waddles up to me on his cubby legs and tugs on my skirt with a small fist.

"Mommy's coming." He informs me around the thumb that's jammed in his mouth, his eyes wide. I try to smile at him, but the muscles in my face don't move right. I hope I don't scare him too much. I bet I look like a fright.

"Pan!" Johanna hisses in a half-whisper, sliding past the door. "Pan, what did I tell you about running off like that?"

Johanna's slight hysteria sends a strangled laugh through me, reducing the bubble of panic that had begun to form in my chest slightly. She raises an eyebrow at me while scooping her son into her arms. He mumbles an apology into her shoulder and goes back to sucking on his thumb. I watch as she rolls her eyes fondly at him, adjusting him to sit more comfortably on her hip.

"You ok?" She asks me, noticing my fists curled around my skirt. I give a shaky nod, unable to find my voice. I work on relaxing my hands, flexing my fingers. My skirt looks mangled and mussed, but I can't find the heart to care at the moment. The lump has returned to my throat and my mouth is dry as sand.

"Just nervous, I guess." I choke out, my voice sounding hoarse and abused.

"Don't be." She tells me bluntly. "You love him."

I nod, but still focus on loosening the muscles in my hands.

"You're not going to get all cold feet on me are you?" Johanna narrows her eyes at me. "Because, so help me, Katniss, I will drag you out there myself if I have to."

This forces another laugh from me and I feel my body relax.

"No." I assure her. "No, that won't be necessary."

"Good." She nods firmly before reaching out to smooth out my skirt. "I'd really hate to ruin your dress. Blood never looks good on white."

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried." I tease. She shrugs and lets the challenge drop. Probably because of the boy in her arms. But I see the gleam in her eyes. The one that tells me if this wasn't my wedding day and if Pan wasn't with her she'd be on top of me, trying to kill me. In a friendly way of course. I return her gaze with a bit of amusement.

"I'm hungry."

Johanna sighs at Pan's confession and she pokes him in the belly.

"You'll just have to wait until after the ceremony. It won't be long." She tells him giving me a pointed look. I roll my eyes at her bossy stare. It may be my wedding, but everything will still go by Johanna's clock. At least, if she has any say about it.

"You have everything? Your promise?" She looks at me like she expects me to go running for the door. I nod and show her the small piece of paper I'd been reviewing all morning. It's crumpled and torn a bit from me folding and refolding it so many times, but the writing on it is still clear as day.

"I haven't forgotten anything." I say, my voice soft. "I'm not going anywhere."

As soon as the word leaves my lips, music comes from the opposite side of the door. My stomach drops and I feel my heartbeat speed up ever so slightly. Something akin to terror rips through me as Johanna sets Pan on the floor and pushes him forward to hold my hand, because this is it. This is the moment that was supposed to happen so long ago before our lives were torn apart. This was the moment that an entire nation had wanted to see. Everyone except for the two people that would take part in it.

Something inside my head tells me to run. Run far, far away. Into the woods and never come out. It's the same part of me that sent me scurrying away into hiding after the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The part of me that almost shot Peeta with an arrow in my first Games. The part of me that shrinks away from his touch, his kisses, his loving words. The part of me that's afraid of anything that shows the smallest threat of hurting me.

I take a deep breath and shove that instinct aside. I will not run away. Not this time. This time I'm ready. I'm ready to marry him. It's what I want. Not what the government wants to keep people pacified. Not what other people want to keep the two of us safe. It's what we want. The two of us. Everyone else just gets the privilege of watching.

With a quick glance over her shoulder at me, making sure I really am not about to make a run for it, Johanna shoves the door open to the square. Sunlight momentarily blinds me as I follow her out, Pan's hand in mine. He's my wide-eyed escort for the few steps it takes for me to reach Haymitch, who's looking sober for the first in a long time. What little hair he has left is combed down and he actually shaved for the event. But he still squints and sneers at me, even though I can see something that looks like pride in his eyes.

"Hey there, Sweetheart." He says, his tone mocking and dry as usual. "Ready?"

I shrug and let him take my arm before looking behind him at the gathering of people. It seems everyone and then everyone they know decided to show for the occasion. Dresses from Capitol pink to dull district greys fill the square. Some of the men wear formal jackets and coats in bright colors while others had simply put on their best shirts. It strikes me that only a few years ago these people would look the same, waiting in silent dread for their own or loved one's name to be called. But today, they talk in small groups, laughing loud and bright, unafraid to be seen in their happiness. Unafraid to share that happiness with others.

Haymitch steers me towards the group. A few people catch sight of us, falling silent and stepping aside. The action ripples out through the crowd until everyone in the square is quiet, their attention trained on Haymitch and me.

I look shyly around before I notice Effie Trinket standing up on the stage. She's wearing a soft pink dress with a matching wig, her shoes for once seeming sensible. The outfit for some reason seems familiar to me. And suddenly, I'm back in my blue dress, my throat dry after shouting Prim's name and volunteering myself. The walk to the stage is the walk to my death; surely the boy standing next to Effie will kill me in the upcoming weeks. If not him, then someone else.

Wait, I think, shaking my head clear of the vision. Peeta had been called after me. Prim – my heart gives a funny little flutter as I think of her – is gone. This isn't the Reaping. We aren't about to die. To say we're safe is something I will never be able to do, but I know there isn't any danger up on that stage. Not right now. Not when I can see him waiting for me with a smile.

Haymitch stops me at the bottom of the steps, his hands on my shoulders. His gaze is warm and, just like so many times before, tells me everything he wants me to know. I raise an eyebrow at him as he clears his throat, appearing that he might actually say something out loud. But he seems to think better of it and instead wraps me in a rare, genuine hug, before pushing up towards Peeta.

The majority of the ceremony is quick. There's an official from the new Capitol who acts as the conductor. He speaks in a booming voice to be heard throughout the square, but Peeta and I have to work not to wince since he's standing two feet away from us. I catch Peeta's eye at one point and he gives me a knowing wink. Truthfully, we're already married. We did the toasting last night by ourselves, agreeing that it felt more personal with just the two of us. Plus Gale and Johanna of course. Johanna would chop me in half with her axe if she found out we had done it without her. This ceremony is just for show. Like everything else we've done, it's for the public eye. All Plutarch's idea of promos showing the recovering and prospering nation.

Finally, we come to the promises. Peeta is supposed to go first, according to Capitol custom. His hand goes for his pocket and I clench my fist around my own paper. No one breathes as he unfolds the simple napkin. I can feel the entire county watching his fingers, his mouth, his eyes just like I am.

"I promise," he begins, his blue eyes beaming with unsuppressed joy, "to keep you in good heath – both in body and in mind. I promise to bake when you can't hunt, and to always have at least a dozen of your favorite cookies in our kitchen at all time. Just so long as you don't eat them too fast. I promise to let you shower first, even if I get up hours before you. I promise to hold you through your nightmares, whenever they happen, so you'll always come back to me. I promise to help channel your fire into more productive things" – he wiggles his eyebrows at me and I feel my face go scarlet – "so it doesn't consume you. I promise to listen to what you say and even more to what you don't. More than anything though, I promise and swear upon my life to always love you in everything I do and everything I say. And I will forever promise to say with you."

There's a collective sigh and copious amounts of cooing from our audience as Peeta finishes. I'm about to begin with my own promises when he grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. My flush spreads from my face to my ears and neck as he flashes me the smile that he usually reserves for behind our bedroom door. And then I hear it. He whispers, "Always," and my heart suddenly soars. The official clears his throat, casting Peeta a pointed look. Peeta merely smiles politely and straightens, waiting for me to begin. With trembling hands, I unfold the crumpled paper I have been carrying with me for the past week. My words would never be as beautiful as his, but I've never been one to focus on beauty.

"I promise –" my voice breaks off and I have to start over. "I promise," I say, looking him in the eye, "to make you smile everyday. I promise to pick you all the strawberries you want. Just so long as it's in the season. I promise to keep meat on the table, so you don't have to bake any more than you want. I promise to not use up all the hot water in the shower, no matter how much I want to. I promise to talk you through your flashbacks, even if I have nothing to say, and then kiss you the moment you come back to me. I promise to overcome my habit of distancing myself from you. I promise to let you in more than I have with anyone before. And above all, I promise to continue to be the person you believe me to be. Because she and I agree that there's no one else we could feel this way about. So, I forever promise to love you until I die."

Peeta is positively glowing with happiness. It radiates from him like a sun and is so infectious I have to fight down a giggle that bubbles up in my throat.

"And even after, too." I add softly as Peeta takes my hand again.

The Capitol official booms out the remainder of the ceremony, even the soft bit where he ties Peeta and I together with Prim's handkerchief. Traditionally in Capitol ceremonies the cloth is sewn from fabrics from the two families, signifying their union. My mother had passed away two months ago – the stress of loosing Prim finally swallowing her whole – so the only thing left from either of our families is the small white square of fabric Prim traded her favorite ribbon for when she was seven. She had even stitched in her initials to be sure she never lost it. It makes me almost feel like she's with us, tying the cloth around our hands with her careful hands. It's a happy thought. One that doesn't hurt to think of.

With a flourish, the official frees our hands and pronounces us man and wife. The crowd sighs and crows in adoration as Peeta sweeps me into his arms and kisses me on the mouth with a gentle passion that sends tingles to the tips of my being. Effie bawls on Haymitch's shoulder behind us, unabashed and uncaring that her make-up now runs down her face like soot stains. Someone – probably Plutarch – gives a signal and suddenly the square is filled with confetti and ribbons, the like I have not seen since our Victors Ceremony after our first Games.

Peeta takes my arm and leads me down the steps and through the crowd, waving and smiling like the showman he is. My own face practically howls in pain, I'm smiling and laughing so hard in my joy. It doesn't quite seem real, this feeling. I had never allowed myself to feel so happy in my life, so I'm surprised I can. And it's all because of him, I think. The wonderful boy with the bread who came to my rescue so many times. What would I do without him? Peeta catches my eye and gives me another searing kiss that convinces me he had just been thinking the same.

Somewhere, a violin begins to play and our wedding party is swept away in the only way District 12 knows how. Everyone in the square begins to dance, their bodies alive in their euphoria. From the men who gather in circles to show off their footwork, to the women who run into the circles to grab a partner, to the children who simply run around in delight, there's not a still body in the area. It's not until after I dance with Peeta for the fifth time that I think just maybe, we really have something to live for.

When we finally arrive at our home, it's practically morning of the next day. My feet hurt from dancing for so long and my legs threaten to give out from under me. I'm so tired, the thought of climbing the stairs to our bedroom makes me cringe. The couch in the living room looks so comfortable. Hell, the floor looks so inviting I'm tempted to just fall down and not move until the late afternoon.

But Peeta has other ideas. He catches my arm and spins me to him, capturing my mouth with his. He's so wonderfully warm and comforting I just want to fall into him and not move. I'm in his arms in an instant and he carries me up the stairs into our room. His eyes burn holes into me in the low light and I immediately forget my fatigue.

"I love you." He tells me and I rush to repeat the words back to him. I feel him lay me back and I know I'm safe. Here in his arms, I'm safe. Here by his side, I'm loved and cared for. Here with Peeta, I never have to be afraid. Because he is my reason for living, just as I am his. As long as he's here I have something to live for. A promise to keep, to remember, and to hold as long as I live.