Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Hunger Games trilogy fandom. All characters and places belong to their respective owners.

When I return to Peeta's room that night, it's the first time I ever get to see him truly angry. He doesn't even bother with saying hello. Instead, the first words that come out of his mouth as I burst through the door are a mixture of displeasure and concern.

"God damnit Katniss, where on earth were you? You could have been hurt or kidnapped! Or worse, dead for all anybody knew." he addresses me, slamming his hands against a dresser.

"I'm sorry," I tell him in a low whimper.

"You're sorry? I was sick with worry. And you were doing what? Hiding out somewhere? I thought you were in danger. I took myself out of a very important meeting for that. You can't just run off like that anymore. You have responsibilities."

"I'm sorry," I say, breaking down against his body, "I didn't mean to give you any cause to worry. I just needed to get away. You have to understand that, please don't be cross with me." The words are a bit frilly and I act more emotional than I usually would, but it's for a reason. The last thing I need right now is to lose favor with Peeta.

He softens his tone a little and pulls me closer to him, "Hey, hey, I'm not angry with you," he looks down at me and gives me a light kiss, "I was just worried about you, that's all."

I nod into his chest.

Peeta taps my nose playfully, "I worry about you a lot more than I ought to, you know. There are things you cannot understand going on in this world and I don't want you to be taken from me."

I sigh into his shirt, "I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can take care of yourself better than I can. However, you should stay with your guards. It's awful not knowing where you are like that."

"Can't have the woman who will give you heirs getting hurt," I mumble under my breath, annoyed at his concern.

"What was that?" he questions me.

I quickly change the subject by pushing him down and causing him to fall back against the freshly laundered bed covers, "Nothing," I lower my voice, "maybe I can it up to you, that's it," it is the first thing that comes to my mind as a distraction.

"Make it up to me?"

I turn a little red, "I just want to give you a little something, a way of making up all that worry to you."

I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing, or where the urge has come from, but I press my own body against the bed, my legs dangling off the edge as I toy with his collar.

"Give me something," he says in a hoarse whisper as I gently kiss the edge of his jaw.

I nod, "Show me what you like, I'm not exactly sure where to start." For all the times we have been in bed, he has been the only active participant. I've essentially just laid there and allowed him to act on me.

"What I like?" he asks me. It's a bit obvious that he knows exactly what I am requesting of him, but for some reason he wants me to say the word.

"You know," this time I turn beet red, "sexually."

He laughs, "If you can't say the word, how do you expect to have the ability to do anything," he lowers his voice mockingly, "you know, sexually."

I scowl at him, "Don't tease me or else I might have to reconsider my offer, mister."

Peeta grins and pulls me fully onto the bed before flipping our bodies over so that he crushed against me, "I am sure I would manage to survive."

I nod dutifully and run my fingers along his chest, "Well, can I?"

He adjusts his body so that he is no longer splayed crossways on the bed, and I immediately follow him, burrowing into his body. His hair is a golden sun toned color in the light from the bedside lamp and his long eyelashes are barely visible. It's odd how I notice these things about a man who was nothing to me a few weeks ago.

An arm wraps around my body and pulls me closer to his chest, "You are free to do whatever you would like to with my body, just not tonight. I don't want any of this to be some sort of obligation or payment. You shouldn't feel like you have to give me favors every time I get angry with you."

"Isn't that the way it's supposed to be. I mean, sex is a commodity?"

"I don't want what we do in bed to be bound by obligations and debts, Katniss." Peeta is stretched out across the bed, with one arm pulling me close to him.

I just nod as if I understand what he is saying.

"Can I ask you a question?" We are both calmly lying close to each other, and he seems in a good mood. It's the perfect opportunity to say something.

"You can ask me anything you would like. I'm your husband after all. We should know more about each other."

He's right, we should know more about each other. But that doesn't stop me from pausing before I ask the question, "Everything we have done in bed has been orchestrated by you. It's just that you always seem to know what to do-"

Peeta cuts me off, "Are you asking me about my experience?"

I nod at him and pull back a little, so that we are facing each other, "How many have their been?"

"Women? A handful," for the first time he seems uncertain in his choice of words.

"Oh," I say. I had assumed he had been with many women, but the confirmation of what I already knew stings for some unexplainable reason, "And how many women are you involved with now?"

He looks a little bit shocked at my suggestion, "Are you implying that I am sharing my bed with women other than you? Because I haven't, and I'm sorry if anything I have done has led you to believe that I'm not faithful to you."

I am quick to correct myself, "We have only been married for a short time, Peeta. When the years go by I can't expect for a man like yourself to not use the comforts of other women. It's not like anybody would demonize you for it."

He catches my arm with his hand and catches my eye, "I expect for you to not sleep with other men, and I hold myself to those same expectations."

I roll my eyes, "It's different, I'm a woman. It's typical for men like you to have other women. What was I supposed to think?"

"I don't want our marriage to be typical. I grew up in that type of household. I don't want anything like that for us. Katniss," he twirls the edge of my sleeve, "we will have to spend the rest of our lives together. If we can start out with a solid friendship and remain faithful and honest to each other, we might actually have a chance to be more."

"More?" I question. For somebody so in touch with people, Peeta is painfully naive. Marriages between nobles were nothing more than business arrangements. But perhaps behind the silly words, he had a point. We would be together for a long time. It would be better for both our personal interactions and our countries if we could stay bonded.

"We will get to that point when it happens," he shuts down the conversation, "Can I ask you a question? Like that little game we did while travelling."

I nod, happy to change the subject.

"If I may ask you, what exactly happened today? Are you unhappy here?" He gives a brief sigh, his lower lip dropping as he speaks, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

I think about the question for a moment. Am I happy here? I've been taken from everything I know, shoved into uncomfortable dresses, and paraded around like the latest dish. I've changed so much over the past few weeks. I haven't hunted, practiced with weapons, or had the slightest smidge of dirt on my body. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really Katniss anymore, instead I'm just the wife of Panem's King. But even with everything that has happened, at least I have Peeta. Whatever motivations or plans he has for our marriage, when we are together I can be at peace with him to some degree.

I hesitate as I speak, "You have to understand that this world is very different than where I come from. I'm very different here than I am back home, but that isn't your fault. I don't want you to think I'm not appreciative of everything that you have done for my people," I pause, "but if you want me to be honest I am not in the happiest mood right now."

He kisses the crown of my head, "I understand that. Don't feel like you need to pretend around me, but why did everything come crashing down today? Why did you feel the need to run from me?"

"I wasn't running from you, Peeta. You know how I met my ladies in waiting today?"

"Yes, I was informed of that."

"I don't fit in with these people, Peeta. They didn't like me, I could tell. I'm a girl from Seam, I'm not fit to be the wife of a man like you. Even Prim would have been better at this. I can barely get people in my home country to like me, I can't expect anybody here to respect me."

He tightens his grip on my body, "I don't think you understand the effect you have on people, Katniss. When you sat with that girl the other day, people watched. You connected with them on a level that any of these women never could have. You will make an exceptional queen, and eventually these women will come to realize that. But for the time being, is there anything I can do to make your transition better? I can have some of the women removed."

I bite my tongue, a bit worried at the implications of the word 'removed'.

He rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to have anybody killed, but if anybody in particular was cruel to you. I can handle it."

I sigh, "Lady Shimmer or Glimmer, something stupid like that. She stood out."

"It's Glimmer," he clucks, "that makes sense."

I raise my eyebrows and shift my body so that my head is turned to his direction, "Glimmer? Just Glimmer," I narrow my voice at him.

He turns a little pale, like he has been caught, "It was a long time ago."

I hoist myself up and move myself over a foot away from him, "Exactly how many women in my court have you been with? It can be turn for a question in our little 'game', and none of that 'just a handful' bullshit."

He seems taken aback at my coarse language, "I'm not exactly sure who is in your court. Katniss," he reaches out and places a reassuring hand on my arm, "it was a long time ago."

I'm not exactly sure why it bothers me so much. Maybe it is the realization that I've been in the same room as women that have shared his bed, maybe it's his whole shtick about how he would stay faithful to me and how he wanted to "be more". The only thing I really know is that in this moment I'm disgusted with him.

"I don't want to talk about it," I slide his hand off my arm and turn towards the wall, "You are the King. You have god's sovereignty to do as you please."

Later that night when we are both lying in the dark, pretending to have the even breaths of sleep, Peeta speaks up.

"I was going to tell you that I arranged our honeymoon trip. It's only a week and travel days, with everything going on I can't take off more, but I was going to tell you that we could do all of that 'making it up' to each other while we were there, but I don't imagine we'll be doing any of that now."

I pull the covers a little bit tighter around my body, "Whatever you want, Peeta. Whatever you want."

Author's Note: It's finally here. My family crisis is over, and I'm halfway done with the new chapter of "In the King's Forest'. I would like to thank my great beta, PrissPanem. Other than that, I'm really sorry if this isn't fluffy. Don't kill me, but hey, angry smut will be coming.

As always, you can follow me on tumblr at starveinsafety. I posted a world map on there because the characters will be doing a lot of traveling in the upcoming chapters.