Gale –
It's stiflingly hot in Peeta's living room. I can feel the rivulets of sweat dripping down my arms and into my clammy palms. The collar of Haymitch's shirt is too tight. I fidget with the silver clasp, unbuttoning it so that I can breath, ignoring the shrewd look of disapproval that my mother shoots my way. But she has no room to talk. I'm here, aren't I?
Posy tugs at my sleeve, trying to get my attention. I look down into her gray eyes which are wide with wonder beneath the curly pigtails our mother has arranged in ringlets around her cherubic face. "When's Katniss coming down?"
I take her small hand in mine and give her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Soon, Poppet," I tell her, though I'm uncertain if Katniss will ever emerge from the top of the stairs.
It's been two hours since Peeta arrived with the Wedding Party and there hasn't been a peep since they shut the door upstairs. Prim and Madge have been entertaining my sister and brothers, but their patience is nearing the breaking point. Haymitch has even thrown himself in the ring, offering to play cards with Rory and Vick to keep them from tearing Peeta's house apart.
"We should sing a song," Mrs Everdeen suggests when Posy begins to chew on the sleeve of her dress. Her pale blond hair is braided atop her head in the fashion she did for Katniss at last year's Reaping. She looks decades younger than I've ever seen her. Despite the worry I know she's facing with the upcoming Reaping, there is a smile in her eyes. Her powder-blue dress floats around her as she bends down and takes Posy's hand in hers, guiding her over to my mother
Down in the valley, the valley so low
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow;
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
Posy curls herself onto our mother's lap on the sofa. Her tiny hands wrap into Mother's hair as her bright eyes stare in adoration at Mrs Everdeen and Primrose who joins in the song. I'm reminded of all the times Mr Everdeen used to sing in town. How a mousy, wide-eyed Katniss used to trail at his hip. She inherited his voice. The song reminds me painfully of another thing I'll miss.
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,
Angels in Heaven know I love you,
Know I love you, dear, know I love you,
Angels in Heaven know I love you.
A sharp creek draws my eyes to the top of the staircase. Peeta makes his way down alone, but I can see her silhouette at the top of the landing. He gives everyone a smile, but doesn't interrupt the song as he makes his way towards me. We exchange handshakes, a silent passing of the torch. The signal I've been dreading all day long as the rest of the room takes up the song.
If you don't love me, love whom you please,
Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease,
Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease,
Throw your arms round me, give my heart ease
My feet feel heavy as stone as I make my way to the base of the stairs. The whole of the world is crashing in on me, and then she's there. My gut wrenches as Katniss steps into the light. She's wearing a simple, off-white dress that goes just down to her calves. It's old - a relic of her mother's past - decorated with bits of lace and pearl-white buttons. It gathers tightly around her belly where her baby is beginning to show. I swallow hard and remind myself to breath as I hold my arm out to her.
Build me a castle, forty feet high;
So I can see her as she rides by,
As she rides by, dear, as she rides by,
So I can see her as she rides by.
He's standing only five feet away, but every step is like dragging a cartload of coal on my own. The Mountain Hymn is like a death march to my ears. I am leading my friend, the woman I love, away from me forever. Worse - I agreed to this madness.
"Breathe, Gale," Katniss whispers in my ear and I feel my heart flutter wildly underneath Haymitch's silk shirt.
When we reach the center of the living room, I look to Mayor Undersee first. He gives me a kind smile and a nod of approval. I look to Katniss who gives me an encouraging nod and then I look at Peeta. He looks… sad? Yes. There is sadness in his blue eyes. For me? I don't need his pity. I agreed to do this. Not for him. For her.
I roll back my shoulders and lift my head high. This is what I can do for her. This is what she needs from me because her father cannot.
Peeta outstretches his hands and I slip Katniss from mine. Slowly and deliberately, I place her hands into his. I bow my head to her and step back into the audience of friends and family. I join the others in the final verse as I fight the tears that threaten to come.
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,
Angels in Heaven know I love you,
Know I love you, dear, know I love you,
Angels in Heaven know I love you.
Katniss –
My head is spinning. I've never thought it was possible to be both happy and miserable at the same time.
I take the pen from Mayor Undersee's hand and I sign my name next to Peeta's. Madge and Gale sign their names along with our parents and Hazelle as legal witnesses. Everything is final. He's left no T's uncrossed.
"By the power vested in me, as Mayor of District 12, I pronounce you man and wife."
The room erupts with cheers and congratulations as Peeta sweeps me into his arms. His lips are on mine, brandishing me with the power of his devotion to me. He did this all for me. For us. I don't know how I can even begin to repay him. I don't deserve this.
The ceremony isn't complete without our Toasting. I'm embarrassed by this part. More than I was to be paraded through Peeta's living room by my best friend in front of our friends and family. But this is tradition in District 12.
Prim helps me to lower myself onto the edge of the hearth while my mother and Peeta's father retrieve the loaf of bread from the kitchen. They hand the plate and a bread knife to Peeta, clearly not trusting me with it. I wonder if anyone's still scared I might stab them and run off - never to be seen again.
The loaf is a thick rectangle with a mushroom-like top. While Peeta slices into it, Peeta's mother hands me a toasting fork. I've never cared for the woman, she's always been so harsh with Peeta - not at all like her husband - yet she gives me the tiniest of smiles as she backs away to re-join her children. I'm not keen on the toasting fork. We rarely had bread to toast in our house. I can roast a rabbit or a squirrel. But how is a slice of bread supposed to stay on this thing?
As though reading my mind, Peeta hands me a slice that is nearly two inches thick.
"Is this cheating?" I ask him as I slide the tongs into the crust.
"Who's going to tell on us?" Peeta winks and leans in for another kiss to a chorus of soppy adorations from our audience.
He takes my hand in his and we guide the fork over the coals in the fireplace. Within seconds, I begin to smell cinnamon and vanilla. The sweet fragrance makes my stomach rumble, but the toast isn't ready. My arm wavers in frustration, but Peeta slides close to me, wrapping one arm around my stomach while the other helps to hold the iron toasting fork. I watch silently as the underside of the bread begins to brown. Gently, Peeta turns the rod - rotating the brown side to be up. I lean against him, my head nuzzled against his shoulder as I watch his steady hands. So sure of what they're doing. I feel warm and safe here and I pray that this moment will go on forever, but too soon he's guiding the fork away from the embers. There's just one thing left to make the night official.
Peeta cuts the bread into two shares, handing one to me. I see now the bits of raisin that have been combined into the dough. He's gone all out. Raisins? They had to have cost half his monthly earnings to acquire.
"Katniss," Peeta whispers my name, drawing my attention back to him. I watch the embers flicker warmly in his eyes as he smiles at me. "I promise to love and to cherish you from this day forward." He offers me a bit of the bread in his hands and I accept.
My mouth is flooded with a sensation of bliss. The cooked raisins are tangy and the cinnamon and sugar are sinfully sweet. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. He did this. All of this.
"Peeta…" I'm at a loss for words. My mind is swimming with the millions of things I've wanted and needed to tell him. But I know that nothing I say will ever be enough. "I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve you…"
It's not an eloquent sentiment of endless devotion like Peeta's vows were, but he understands me all the same. My confession cuts to the core of who I am. I'll never stop owing him, but I can give him this. I can give him me.
Lyrics from "Down in the Valley"/"Birmingham Jail"
I thought it was a fitting Traditional song that might have survived for the Mountain Folk of District 12.
Edit 04/17/14 - Please visit my Profile and take the Poll at the top. Poll will come down 04/19/14