Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Hunger Games universe. All characters, places, and people are property of their respective owners.
He looks at me, fear breaking through his face. "Don't say that if you don't mean it." His voice is gruff, angry, but there's a hint of him there- raw and vulnerable.
I've never been a good liar, so I don't talk- "Shh, shh. I love you, Peeta. I love you, I love you, I love you," I reiterate to him, leaving a soft, gentle kiss on his lips.
His lips gather mine, desperate, needy. Like he's trying to reach something impossible. I try to form a retort, try to tell him exactly why he should do with me, but Peeta's more than excited to just kiss.
I try to touch him, it's not too rough of a ride and it's just enough to distract him. Besides, it's not as if I'd complain if he tried to bed me. Even here.
But oh, Peeta just wants to kiss. He wants to wrap his arms around me and hold me in his embrace, the cool blue fabric of my dress pooling on the floor.
And so he holds me, my body halfway on the carriage seat, my legs wrapped around his, my head in the crook of his shoulder.
"Is this real?" he says as we both tumble off into sleep.
Peeta is giddy, beautifully giddy, the whole ride home. He accepts my shoddy confession of love with open arms, as if it is the greatest gift he has ever been given. For the first time I think we have a real shot at friendship. Now that there is nothing between us, no unrequited feelings or . It's as if we are in true form.
When we're coming back to the estate, only a couple hours away, the men stop to water the horses at a little just higher into the surrounding cliffland. We're let out for a stretch with only a couple of guards to follow. It's a breather from the constant supervision we've had these past days.
Peeta must know the area, because he leads me through the surrounding foliage with no hesitation, his arm resting firmly on the small of my back.
"There's a beautiful view out here," he says to me, "Sometimes I come out here with my council and we talk amongst ourselves, bring a little wine."
"You don't happen to have a bottle on you?" I question, laughing.
He smiles at me, "I have no desire to dilute this moment."
We settle together for a while, my head in his lap, his fingers undoing my braid. It's an intimate moment, but not like the ones we have had before. There's that same looseness to our relationship, that lack of burden or anger. I'm not even sure he has taken my declaration of love seriously, we never discussed it, but he seems fine enough to pretend with me that we are whole.
"Tell me a story," I say, my hair pooling in his lap.
He looks down at me, his eyes bright with wonder. As if the sight of me is more beautiful than the view below.
"There once was a girl, not that many centuries ago," he starts, "And she was beautiful, but oh so poor. And her father had died when she was young and her mother was weak in the head. But the girl had a little sister, so she held onto herself. But the world was cruel back then, and when the times were worst of all, she was in the pit of starvation. And there was a boy, a Prince of noble blood, and one rainy day, he shared bread with her-"
"Why did the boy share his bread?" I butt in, inquiring about the story. "Surely there were other starving girls."
"Because when the boy saw her," he looks down at me once more, "he saw the sun."
Peeta resumes his story, "So the girl fought for her family. She would tie her hair in a braid each morning, and she would go to the local woods, where she would hunt on the King's soil. Nobody cared, of course, for the boy, the Prince, he protected her. And oh, they became the closest of friends. He taught her how to read, she taught him how to hunt. They both struggled and learned together, two young adolescents from such different worlds- but then, one day, the boy was sent away. His brothers had passed, and he was expected to be king. The girl never heard from him again."
I sucked inward, "You can't end it there!" I protested.
Peeta smiled at me, "Have patience, Katniss. I'm not done. And then one day, the girl was arrested for hunting on the King's ground. She was brought to the Castle, where the boy lived. It turned out he had been watching her for years, observing her and protecting her as long as he could. The arrest was simply a way to draw her closer. For there was a snake in his court, and he needed the girl to defeat it."
"Did they kill the Snake?" I prod him.
Peeta stares outward, as if he doesn't know the answer, "I don't know. Perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow. But I do know this. Whatever happened to them, whether it be death or justice, they went out to battle together."
And for the first time, I wish we were the girl and the boy. I wish we were together like that. I wish we could be more.
The second we arrive back at court, Peeta is drawn into meetings. I don't join him, I have more important things to do- I need to speak with Johanna. I have my guards arrange for her to meet me in my sitting room, something I'm certain she will not appreciate. Johanna was not fond of following orders.
When Johanna arrives in my quarters she is half dressed, an open corset displayed over a layer of daisy colored skirts. "You called me, Princess?" she says with a sarcastic glint in her voice.
"Yes," I nod, "I think we need to speak. About the meeting I proposed, with your band of traitors- I don't think it would be wise."
"Wise?" she narrows her eyes at me, taking an offensive stance, "You're not looking to back out on me, are you?"
I shake my head, giving her an explanation. "My guards have doubled since the incident. I don't think it would be particularly smart for me to expose myself like that, agreed?"
She sighs, "that makes sense, he really has the reigns on you, doesn't he?"
I ignore the question, "That's all, Johanna." I say, dismissing her.
As she turns to leave her fingers catch against the mahogany of the doorway, "You know, Katniss. You really need to speak with your sister."
I take Johanna's words to heart. Regardless of whatever implications she had intended, I had been neglecting Prim over the past weeks. It was hard for me to be around her, she reminded me so much of my old life, how much I had lost and gained over these past months. How different I was.
So when I find her, legs pushed over the edge of the south quarter's pond, boots flung across the grass, her simple muslin dress pushed up to her knees, I sit beside her, my own dress a little harder to navigate.
"I have to say, sometimes I feel my dresses grow more ridiculous as the weeks go by." I smile at her, trying to make idle conversation.
She looks over from the pond and turns to me, her voice breathy, "Katniss!" she says with a hint of surprise.
"Prim," I give her a bright smile and pull her into my embrace. "I'm back."
She nods, looking down, "I know," she says, "I was terrified when I heard about that man, it was awful, thinking I'd lose you."
Immediately, I feel guilty. Of course I should have visited her sooner, it should have been the first thing I did. She was my sister, after all. How would I feel if some man had pressed a knife to her throat? I would be desperate to see her, anxious to make sure she was truly alright.
"Oh, Prim," I lean my head against her, "I'm so sorry."
"It's alright," she shrugs, "they told us you were alive in the announcement. So, why are you here?"
Did I need a reason to visit my sister? "Johanna reminded me I ought to visit you."
She immediately pales, her rosy cheeks flooding white, "she told you?"
I frown in confusion. "Told me what?" What could Johanna know about my own flesh and blood, my own sister, that I did not?
Prim looks at me, her face contorting, she is visibly distraught, "I didn't mean to, Katniss. I didn't mean to, I just- I wanted to do what was right. I wanted to bring you home! You understand, Katniss?"
"Prim," I say, placing my hands on her shoulders and forcing her to face me, "whatever it is, tell me." I take a glance back to my guards who are mindlessly talking amongst themselves.
"I was sent here long before you. There were dignitaries and papers, nobody notices little girls, I suppose. I gave them to the right people, they slipped them to Gale. Oh, Katniss," she breaks down against the tree, her dress tearing slightly, "I didn't mean to get you in trouble."
My eyes widen and I surely go as pale as her. My sister was a traitor. Sweet, innocent Prim who never cared much for politics or the art of war. My sister. She had done the unthinkable. My discussions with Johanna were one thing, but Prim, she was a child. Or at least, she had been one when I left.
I remember Johanna's words, "-the logs, you don't know?"
"The merchant logs?" I ask, drawing the empty, composed face that I have learned to master. She nods her head, sniffling. "Are they going to kill me?" She asks, terrified.
I shake my head. "I won't let them."
"What if they find out?" Her body is wracked with sobs, "Will they hurt me?"
My answer is an uncertain lie. Her young age may keep her from death, but who knows where she would end up if the crowds swayed in the opposing direction. But of course, I can't tell her that. "Nobody is going to hurt you, Prim," I say, a little exasperated, "But you have to listen to me, alright? Who else knows? Johanna, Haymitch?"
She shrugs, "There's an accountant for one of the Dukes that's from Seam. His name is Thom, he's very nice. Oh, Katniss, do you think they will hurt him?"
"It's a very real possibility," I tell her, not bothering to shade reality. She wasn't a child anymore. "Those are the consequences of these types of things."
"But I'll protect you," I quickly add with a sigh, "nobody is going to hurt you." And I hope for both of our sakes it is true.
I spend hours with Prim in the privacy of my quarters. Hours upon hours rehearsing with her, telling her what to say if she is ever questioned. Teaching her to play the innocent, naive girl that she is. Making her look like the victim. Not that it was all that hard. Few would see a girl of her age as the perpetrator. I, on the other hand, was past the age of accountability.
Peeta doesn't come to bed that night, a guard tells me he's still in meetings with his council. I'm disappointed, I looked forward to our nights alone, and with my nerves over Prim, his body would be a welcome comfort. I even try to wait for him, I stay up for what must be hours, but by the time he returns to our room I've already fallen into the blissful emptiness of sleep.
But he's there when I wake up, pacing around the room with a cup of tea as I pull myself from groggy sleep.
"Peeta," I say as I notice him, his deep blue jacket crumpled, his white undershirt pulled from underneath his breeches, "Stop pacing. Come," I say, pulling myself into a sitting position, "sit."
He complies, sitting beside my knees. He's still wearing his shoes, and I can't help but wonder if he ever went to sleep.
"I'm sorry if I woke you, you'll need your sleep," he says, giving me a nervous smile.
I shake my head, taking him in for a moment. His eyes are worn with hints of purple under his eyes, which are particularly alight today. Even his blonde curls, messy as usual, seem a little downtrodden.
I draw my hand into his hair, brushing his curls backward and pulling him closer to me. I hadn't seen much of him, and I felt needy, anxious to know what he wished from me, especially after I had placated him with those words.
"Did you sleep last night?" I ask him.
"No," he replies, a little breathy.
"I should have come with you- to the council."
"You would not have enjoyed it, I assure you. It's better you did not come at all," he winces slightly and I feel a little bit anxious as he presses his hands over mind, comforting, as if he is preparing me for bad news.
"You will find out eventually, I suppose," he says, "And you are the Queen, it is our right to know this news first. Katniss," he pauses, "they're arranging to bring us back to the Capitol."
I sigh. I had enjoyed my time at this Estate. It was nice to be surrounded by nature, to avoid the hype of court, but I knew this day would come eventually. "That is not too bad," I laugh, "I assure you I will survive."
"It is not that. Well, I suppose this is good news though it will certainly bring conflict," he pauses, "Gale was captured at Lion's Heart Hill. They're bringing him in now."
Author's Note: I loved the scenes there in the beginning. Beautiful friendship, note how they avoid any direct discussion on her confession. It feels very 'them' to me. What did you think of that last reveal? I'm happy to be moving this story along. There's going to be a lot of political progression over the next few chapters. I'm hoping to wrap it up in the next five or so chapters. It is not crazy that I've been writing this story for over a year? Never thought I would be here.
As far as that story Peeta told her, did anybody who reads my other fics catch on?
This is un-betaed, fyi. I'm going to be without a computer for a few days, so if you want to message me with a question you can send me an ask on tumblr at starveinsafety.