A/N: edited 31/12/14

At this point I reached 200 reviews which I totally didn't cry about. Fluff warning for this chapter!

Chapter 15: Doing it the Right Way

Katniss

I've actually agreed to marry Peeta.

I surprised even myself; I thought that it would take longer than a few weeks to make up my mind – of I ever did make up my mind, that is. I turned away quickly so I wouldn't have to be blown back by the force of emotion that undoubtedly flooded over Peeta's face, but not before I caught a glimpse of raw shock in his eyes. Straight after shutting the door, I slid down it and onto the floor, letting out a breath. What next?

And even now, as I lie on the lumpy mattress of my bed, hours after accepting Peeta's proposal, I'm struggling to think of what actually will happen. In the next few hours, days. Weeks. Years?

I have yet to tell Mom and Prim. I'm sure that Prim will be thrilled. As tough as she likes to be, she is a sucker for romance. I can clearly remember her coming home aged nine and gushing about a story from the Capitol that she had been told in class one day.

"They had such beautiful dresses, Katniss!" she had sighed, leaning her chin on her hand as she stared out of the window. "They cost so much as well, but I'm not surprised! The teacher showed us pictures of the weddings in the Capitol. The dresses are funny-looking and in so many colours and some of them are made completely out of pearls or diamonds… It was so romantic. The reception was beautiful. All of it was like a fairy tale."

Back in District 12, brides rent a white dress that has been worn hundreds of times by other brides and grooms were whatever isn't covered in coal dust. In the Capitol, months are spent on making brand new dresses that cost more than the entirety of the Seam makes in a year. In District 12, the couple sign some forms at the Justice Building and are assigned a house. In the Capitol, ceremonies are held almost anywhere, mansions, castles, and clubs for days on end.

In District 12 the family gathers and sings a traditional sing as the newly-weds cross the threshold of their new home, and eat a bit of cake or have a meal if they can afford it. In the Capitol, parties can have hundreds of guests and the partying will be almost as extravagant as the wedding itself. The food is enough to feed an army. In humble District 12, the bride and groom toast bread over a fire once their guests have gone home. In the Capitol, the couple go on honeymoons for weeks on end.

And that's just a few of many differences between the poorest district in all of Panem and the bubble of the Capitol. They have too much money. We don't have enough.

Prim mumbles something in her sleep. In a few hours, she'll move to sleep in Mom's bed.

My heart squeezes as I think over the traditional District 12 wedding. The customs may seem old-fashioned, but they represent the District well. You don't always have to have lots of money to have a memory-filled day. I'll have to have a toasting with Peeta. It's said that if you don't, it's bad luck, and that your marriage is doomed. A toasting is meant to be a private thing were the couple share the vows they couldn't in the Justice Building. It's a sacred thing. It's something you do with the person you truly love.

But I'm not in love with Peeta. I only ever imagined myself never marrying or marrying Gale out of convenience. That's what everyone else thought anyway. How will I be able to face Peeta? I can't tell him that I love him. Maybe I'll learn to love him. He's a good person, he's never been anything but kind towards me, and through everything I've put him, he hasn't turned away. For him to do that, he must care about me, even if it's only a small amount. What if he only loves our unborn child? He may not ever feel anything for me.

I roll over with a sigh, resting my hand on my stomach. It's getting bigger with every passing day. Before long, it's going to be obvious. I won't be able to hide it. Gale will find out. Everyone will find out. And someone has to be the father.

Marriage was something I never wanted to get into. Love is marriage. And I know what love can do to you. Mom was ripped apart when Dad died. She's only started coming back in the past few months. It took me falling pregnant to snap her out of the daze she was in for all that time. Marriage usually leads to children. Peeta and I have done this the other way round. Perhaps that will be our 'thing'; doing things whichever way we want and defying expectations.

I will be stripped of the surname Everdeen. I will become Katniss Mellark, and will lose one of the only things that make me feel close to my father. Once I sign the papers at the Justice Building, I will essentially become Peeta Mellark's property. Divorce is ugly, and something I wouldn't want to go through. Hopefully marrying Peeta will be the right way to go. Deep down I know that this is for the best; it will ease the costs of raising a child. Peeta and I will both have jobs to bring income in.

I just wish I had more control over my life.

This is the fault of the Capitol. If they gave out adequate birth control to the Districts, things like this wouldn't happen. Maybe the fiasco between Peeta and I would be nothing but a memory to bug me for the rest of my days. Something to blush about whenever I traded with him or his father. Would Peeta have ever figured out what had happened in his bed? Or maybe he would've regarded our relations as a casual fling?

I feel like my head is going to implode, or explode, under the pressure of all my worries and questions buzzing around in my brain.

Where will we live? Together? Most likely, to stop suspicions. Are we going to share a bed? That would be awkward. I shake my head, take a deep breath and try to calm down. If anything, I need sleep.

The following morning, I wake to the sound of Prim laughing and Buttercup hissing. I climb out of bed and peer out of the window, finding Prim on the porch with the ugly yellow cat she adores so much. She sees me through the window and waves. I smile and wave back before getting dressed into my usual clothes of trousers, a shirt and my jacket.

As I go to reach for the rope that I use as a makeshift belt so my worn jeans don't fall from my bony hips, I find that I don't need to hold up the waist band as I reach over to get the rope. My stomach is big enough to hold them by itself. I stand there, wiggling my hips. The jeans stay put. This is getting serious now.

Narrowing my eyes, I step sideways and stare at myself in Dad's cracked old shaving mirror that's leaning against the wall. From the front, I just look a little… wider, if I am to quote Gale. But from the side, you can tell that something is up. In my shirt you can see the outline of my belly. And my breasts. Great. Pretty soon I'll have to start letting out my clothes to accommodate. That or let my shirt ride up over my stomach.

"I'm getting fat," I state as I walk into the kitchen and cut a thin slice of bread from the dwindling supply we have in our kitchen.

"No you aren't," Mom smiles from behind her cup of mint tea.

"I don't have to use rope as a belt anymore." I say pointedly.

"Katniss, it's called being pregnant. You're glowing, not getting fat."

"Glowing." I snort, chewing on the stale bread as my stomach grumbles. Prim enters the room, giggling, rocking Buttercup in her arms. Once I've finished my meagre breakfast, I gulp down some water and help Prim braid her hair.

"You're glowing," she laughs, looking up at me in the mirror with teasing eyes. I shake my head, shoving her shoulder gently.

"And you're a pain," I say, sitting back at the kitchen table to tie my boots. Prim chats to Mom about school, and I wait for the moment to tell my mother and sister that I've agreed to marry Peeta.

I wonder what Peeta's doing right now. Is he helping at the bakery? Walking to school? Has he told his family that his proposal has finally been accepted? His mother's reaction must have been impressive. I can imagine steam pouring from her ears. Poor Peeta. He has to face the wrath of that witch even more than normal because of me.

"Katniss?" Mom asks, nudging my arm.

"Yeah?" I ask, brought out of my thoughts.

"Are you going to go to the bakery anytime soon? We need more bread. That's the last loaf." Mom tells me, gesturing to the loaf sitting on the kitchen table between us.

Ever informative in my answers, I pull a face and shrink back in my seat.

The last thing I want to do is to face the rest of the Mellark brood. In fact, I'd be perfectly content with curling up in the corner for the rest of my life, hiding from Aymee Mellark, her kindly husband Farrell and the boisterous Fenton and Rye. I'm sure they've had their fair stab at Peeta. I can imagine a seemingly endless stream of crude jokes. Withering looks from Peeta. Not fun.

Obviously I realise that sometime I'll have to suck up my pride and ego and just face the fact that I can't ignore the bakery forever. Mr and Mrs Mellark will soon become my in-laws. Fantastic.

I realise that Mom is still waiting for an answer.

"I'll go today. But if Mrs Mellark shoots me, or I die of embarrassment, please know that you're responsible," I say. Mom rolls her eyes. Prim giggles. "You too, Little Duck." I tell her. She sticks her tongue.

"Thank you, Katniss. Take some cheese to trade. I know that Farrell likes goats' cheese," Mom advises. Prim runs to get some cheese blocks and wraps them in basil leaves before wrapping that in turn in linen.

I put the cheese in a plastic tub to stop the smell and put it into my bag. "Come on Prim. We don't want to be late."

"Okay, I'll just make sure Lady has enough water," Prim nods, slinging her bag onto her back and dashing outside. I look up at my mother. She smiles softly and pats my shoulder as she moves past me to the sink. The sound of water splashing fills the room as she scrubs at a plate.

"Peeta proposed," I say quietly. The sound of water ceases.

"And?" Mom prompts carefully.

"I told him yes," I say. "It's the best thing to do." Mom steps over and hugs me, smoothing my hair down consolingly.

"You'll be okay. Peeta is a good man. He is entirely his father, nothing like his mother."

"I know," I admit. "But he doesn't want this."

"Are you sure?" Mom asks. "He must have wanted something, since he asked you for your hand."

"He doesn't like me, in that way. We're just friends. I know that our friendship is mixed up, but we're still friends."

"Your father would approve." Mom says with raised eyebrows, her eyes kind.

"Of me getting pregnant at sixteen?" I ask sarcastically.

"Well, no," Mom pulls away. "But he'd be proud that you've grown to be a responsible young woman who has kept half-sane through the first hurdle of this and is marrying a man who is good through and through."

"Thanks Mom."

"Good luck with telling Prim," she winks, before disappearing through the doorway of the kitchen. I stand, zip my jacket, and wrap a scarf around my neck. Prim has my jumper and gloves, but she has a hat from Hazelle Hawthorne that was knitted for her birthday last year. Now that the cold is getting worse, coats and hats and scarves are beginning to show up in town.

In the almost silence of the kitchen, I hear Prim chattering enthusiastically. I smile fondly. She's always talking to Buttercup and Lady, as if they were talking back with an equal amount of gusto. I pull my bag over my shoulder and open the front door.

"Prim, you do realise that Lady and Buttercup don't answer your questions, don't you?" I ask jokingly, leaning into the doorframe so the door closes properly. We don't want any extra drafts.

"Well, if you listen carefully, you can hear Lady agreeing with Prim," A deep voice chuckles. I spin around. Peeta stands beside a grinning Prim, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his wrestling hoodie. He looks nervous behind his smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"That's a fine way to greet me," he says. I scowl.

"It's alright, Katniss. He came here to walk with us," Prim says, shooting me a look.

"But this is so far out of your way," I note and he just shrugs, blue eyes blazing.

"It's fine," he says. "I wanted to talk to you anyway." Prim tugs on my arm and shoots me a warning look. I sigh and Prim grins, skipping ahead, down the dusty path. I take a deep breath and look at Peeta. He smiles softly and I narrow my eyes. What is he up to?

Peeta

"How are you?" I ask.

"I'm… okay, actually," Katniss says, her eyes bright.

"Good," I say. "That's good." We walk away, our breath steaming into the cold air.

"I'm sorry for, you know, slamming the door in your face yesterday. I just was surprised at myself," Katniss mumbles.

"Trust me, I was just as surprised as you were." I chuckle, remembering the look on Katniss' face when she finally accepted my proposal. Her eyes were a mix of shock, fear and hope. Hope that I yearned was something she would cling onto. That she wouldn't give up on marrying me. All I want to do is make her understand that I'm not going to give up. Through thick and thin, I'm going to take care of her and our baby. I've already ruined her life by knocking her up. The last thing I'm going to do is leave her. The last thing I want to do is hurt her.

"I've told Mom," she says. "But Prim still doesn't know yet."

"Uh, how did your Mom take it?"

"She was okay with it, I think. She said that my Dad would've been proud, and that's a big thing for Mom to say. That he would be proud that-"

"That you're pregnant and engaged at 16?" I ask gruffly.

Katniss laughs, hitting me on the arm. "That's what I said, but no, you moron. She said that Dad would've been proud of me for making good choices, considering what's happened. She said I was being responsible. And was staying half-sane through all of this."

"You are."

"Staying half-sane?"

"I'm the other half," I laugh. "But you're doing the right thing and being responsible."

"Of course you would say that. You're the one who proposed," Katniss says. She continues to talk but I find myself occupied with my own thoughts. To me, this marriage isn't just a way of saving some dignity and helping Katniss. To me, this marriage is my way of showing that I care for her. How much she thinks I care, I don't know.

For years I've loved the skinny Seam girl who never paid attention in class, barely smiled, and had only ever spoke a few words to me. Those words were treasured. I could never quiet work up the courage to just say 'hi' or try and make our few words exchanged at the back of the bakery into a conversation. All these years. All those times I traded with her. And I was a coward, reduced to a mumbling, red-cheeked puddle.

But I love Katniss with all my heart. And if I end up heartbroken at the end of this, there's going to be one hell of a mess leftover.

"-because Prim thought that Buttercup had ran away, but he was just eating leftovers from the garbage cans in town." Katniss says, not realising that I haven't heard a single word she's said. I look along the dusty road ahead of us, which is slowly filling with students moving in one direction to the school, and weary miners with invisible loads upon their shoulders trudging in the other direction. Prim is chatting with a girl in her year, completely ignoring Katniss and myself.

Glancing around quickly, I grab Katniss' wrist and pull her to the side of the road, interrupting her flow of speech when she squeaks in surprise.

"Hey! Peeta, what are you doing?" she asks, as I pull her into a small grove of willow trees that grow behind an abandoned coal unit. It's similar to the Hob warehouse, but smaller. "Peeta!" Katniss cries. "What are you doing?" she looks around, her grey eyes wide as she observes the long, spindly branches of the willow tree circle that sway in the breeze, their leaves touching the ground.

"Sorry," I say, my heart thumping erratically, my palms sweating.

Calm down, Peeta! You can do this! You have to this properly, I coach myself.

"I just needed to speak to you. In private. Away from prying eyes," I explain hastily. Katniss narrows her eyes and watches me carefully.

"Prim will be wondering where we are."

"She's walking with her friends. She's alright."

"Peeta, what are you doing?"

"Katniss, please just trust me," she purses her lips. I look over her shoulder, widen my eyes and point. "What is that?" I exclaim, my mouth dropping open in horror.

Katniss whirls round.

I drop down on one knee and pull out the tiny box my father gave me from my pocket.

"Peeta, what is it?" Katniss asks worriedly, still looking in the direction I was pointing. "I can't see anything-" she turns back to face me and stares, her words trailing off. I smile. Her mouth falls open and she takes a step back, looking confused.

"There was nothing there-" I begin sheepishly, going over the words I've rehearsed a stupid amount of times in my head.

"You freaked me out, damn it," Katniss interrupts, her eyes flickering swiftly between my face and the box in my palm. "And stand up!"

"Let me talk. No-one can see," I plead. Katniss bites her bottom lip and sighs. "Sorry for, you know, yanking you over here and freaking you out, but I wanted to do this right. I've messed everything up so royally, and launched the idea of marrying you right in your face. So, if you're going to make my life hell, I'll do the same to you," Katniss smiles at this, her frosty exterior cracking.

"And, because I know you can't stand romantic sappy things, I'm proposing to you properly, on one knee on the damp ground and cold, with a ring that I hope fits you because I bugged the blacksmith to get it done and I'm sure he wanted to shove me head-first into the hot coals," I glance down at the band of metal nestled on the plush material inside the ring box. The box was what Dad proposed to Mom with, what my Grandfather proposed to my Grandmother with, and so on. It's another Mellark tradition.

"Basically, what I'm trying to say is this: Katniss Everdeen, will you please do me the honour of marrying me?" I ask, smiling hopefully. Katniss looks down at the ground solemnly, thinking.

"I don't know Peeta," she says quietly. I try to fight the fear in my eyes, but it undoubtedly shows.

"But you said yes yesterday." I tell her, my stomach twisting.

"I know I did, but I don't think that ring is big enough." Katniss frowns.

What?!

"Oh, umm…" I stumble. I thought she didn't like flashy, sparkling stuff. That was the entire reason for my persistent begging of the blacksmith.

"Peeta?" Katniss asks. I look up at her. She smiles softly, and then bursts out laughing. Is this some sort of joke to her? "I'm kidding about the ring!" She chuckles. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Katniss, I swear," I mutter, shaking my head. She clutches her swelling stomach through her jacket.

"Peeta, of course I'll marry you. You didn't have to go to all this trouble, though the ring is pretty." she says through her laughter. She starts to say something else, but I'm up from the ground and throwing my arms around her before she can say another word.

"You're evil, you know that?" I mumble into her hair. She cautiously puts her arms around me.

"I've been told once or twice," she laughs. I pull away and take her left hand, sliding the ring on. Katniss holds it up to the light, admiring the dull gold of the metal, and the way the engravings look like vines and leaves circling her finger and the gemstone sparkles.

"See, you're a big softie inside," I tease. She rolls her eyes, before stepping forward to hug me.

"Thank you, Peeta," she whispers. "This was so sweet of you."

I bury my face in her hair. "It's nothing."

"And I don't hate all things romantic and sappy. Just the silly ones," she tacks onto the end, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "And this was borderline silly."