Chapter 2: Marriage

I hold my little sister's hand as we approach the check-in queue for the Reaping. It's a pinprick of blood from our index fingers to get our DNA scanned. I feel grateful that this is the last time I will have to do this. As the flock of kids around us starts to congeal into lines two across (for efficient processing), I relinquish my hold on Prim's hand so she can run ahead and fall into step next to Rory Hawthorne, Gale's younger brother and her secret crush. I feel a familiar presence ease into place beside me, and I glance to my right to acknowledge Thom.

"One more day of standing in the hot sun, Katniss; nothing to it," he encourages me.

"I'm not scared," I tell him.

"Sure you're not," he indulges me. "I know you, Katniss." He heaves a sigh, and I can tell by this, he is letting me know just how scared he really is too. "All we need is just a little more luck. It hasn't failed us yet."

I understand what he means. District 12 places great esteem in luck and other superstitions. Aside from our traditions, it is all we can turn to in trying times, since religion is expressly forbidden in Panem. Like now, for instance, where up ahead in line, and even past the processing queue, I can see boys and girls in tight embraces.

There is a ritual in District 12 called The Reaping Kiss. A superstition that if you share a kiss with someone just before the Reaping, it will bring you luck and prevent you from being picked. I have never engaged in this custom myself, though Primrose once encouraged me to kiss Gale Hawthorne for protection from the glass Reaping ball. It was before my baby sister was eligible for the Games herself, and she feared for me. I only balked because I did not feel comfortable locking lips with my hunting partner. Besides, I remain ambivalent about the Reaping Kiss's efficacy, though I have no reason to believe it doesn't work.

Up ahead of us in line, I see Rory Hawthorne steal a Reaping Kiss from my baby sister, and she looks utterly ecstatic. Suddenly inspired, I turn to Thom.

"Kiss me," I demand, with no nonsense.

Thom gapes at me. "What?" But I just sling an arm over his neck and pull his face down to mine, mashing my lips against his in a steamy kiss. We break apart after a minute or two. "For luck," I gasp, as soon as I come up for air.

Thom's eyes twinkle. "I thought you didn't believe in that stuff."

"I don't," I frown, blushing at his perceptive teasing, and at myself for being so uncharacteristically bold. I try to tell myself it isn't a big deal; after all, Thom and I have done far more than just kiss. "It's just that... you never want luck to run out... and - Mmmmm..." My voice is cut off, dies in my throat, as Thom swoops down and presses his lips to mine, returning my kiss in kind. I let out an appreciative moan, as my fingers unconsciously fist the fabric of his shirt, surprised but nevertheless... pleased.

We step out of the kiss softly, and I ruffle my blue skirts as I feel my face grow hot and pink. "That should do it," I say lamely, and I move forward in line as the kids ahead of us shuffle forward. Thom's hand slips into my own to stop me, and he turns me back. "Katniss."

"Yes?" I regard him quizzically.

Thom now turns red himself as he asks shyly. "Can I please kiss you again?"

I peer at him, amused, recalling how he had rejected the idea of asking for my permission the first time he kissed me. "May I please kiss you again?" I correct his grammar. After a moment of consideration, I shrug. "Yes, you may. You may kiss me, I mean." I murmur.

Smiling, Thom takes me in his arms, and kisses me full on the mouth once more. I respond in perfect harmony, kissing him back just as passionately because I owe him that much.

"Ahem." The Peacekeeper on hand at the check-in table pointedly clears her throat, and Thom and I disengage from the kiss, our arms still around each other, more mortified than we have ever been. Though to his credit, Thom does his best to laugh it off.

"Third time's the charm," he offers up as explanation.

"Hmm," I smirk. "So it would seem."

The female name that Effie Trinket rings out is not mine, as I stand with the other 18-year-old girls, in the same blue Reaping dress that I made love in just a few months ago.

A moment more, and the unfortunate boy's name is called, and I find myself deflating in relief when it isn't Thom's. Two years ago, my nerves were inexplicably sent in a very different direction, when a Merchant boy I barely knew - Peeta Mellark, the Baker's son - was selected for the 74th Annual Hunger Games. He made it past the initial Bloodbath, but was killed soon after.

The tributes are still being whisked into the Justice Building, when 18-year-old boys begin to get down on one knee in front of the girls. It is a tradition in District 12 for young men to propose to their sweethearts at the conclusion of their last Reaping. No one's ever tried to ask me for my hand in marriage, though, and for that I am glad. In four years' time, when my baby sister, Primrose, ages out, I am sure there will be boys Seam and Merchant alike fighting to pop the question first. My sister is quite pretty, like our mother. Prettier than me, anyways.

Jostling among the throng to look for my mother and sister, I spy Thom pushing through the crowd towards me. I hug him automatically when he reaches me.

"We're free, Katniss! I'm so glad you're safe! Now we can get going with life!"

I smile and chuckle. "Thom, Thom, Thom - always so impatient!" I tease.

"I have a surprise for you," my friend tells me eagerly, and as I watch in astonishment, he pulls out an engagement ring. I put a hand to my mouth, speechless.

"Katniss Everdeen, I love you. And though I know how you feel about marriage, impatient though I may be, I will wait as long as it takes for you to say Yes. Will you marry me?"

After I take a moment to recover, I stare at Thom with a mixture of skepticism and bemusement. I smile at him curiously, almost. Softly, I find my fingers running through his long, black hair as I contemplate my answer, seriously considering his proposal. I would be going back on my word to never marry, forming an attachment that carries risk later. Though Thom has survived admirably his first few months on the job, mining will always be a hard life. Will he want children? Thom would at least want to talk about it, but he would probably understand if I declined. Gale Hawthorne may not have been so understanding, as I had heard rumors that he one day wanted to propose to me and our mothers even secretly hoped that we would get together. Thom and I would have our own house, assigned by the government, and we could survive enough off his miner's wages, along with my coin from hunting game. Even then, it might not be enough for us to support a child anyway, so perhaps the possibility is moot. Mother and Daddy had two children on a miner's wages, and we damn near starved to death, even when my father was still alive.

At last, I stare up into Thom's eyes. "Yes. I will marry you." Laughing, we hug, and drawing away, we share a long, chaste kiss. I feel Thom slip the ring onto my finger. Still in his embrace, I turn my head to see Mother's mouth agape, Prim's eyes shining with excitement.

Much to their surprise, we have a wedding to plan.

I stare resolutely into the mirror as Mother does up my brown hair in the signature braid running down my back. The blue fabric of my Reaping dress ruffles against my skin as I slide it onto my body. Mother finally steps back to admire her handiwork. I don't normally let her do such nice things for me, but today of all days demanded that I put my pride aside.

"Now you look beautiful, too," Mother tells me softly.

"I wish I looked like you," Prim remarks from the settee. Though I take issue with the latter statement, I don't voice my disagreement.

It was a difficult decision, to decide what to get married in. And that is coming from a person who has mostly eschewed fashion and make-up. Mother offered me her white wedding dress, from her Merchant days. The one she stole from her father's house when she ran off to marry a coal miner, my Daddy. I would be content to just get married in my blue Reaping dress, the only nice article of clothing I own. Given that there are two parts to a District 12 wedding ceremony, I decided to split the difference.

All ready, Mother and Prim and I leave the house and trek across the Seam and into Town, making our way to the Justice Building. The first part of my wedding to Thom will be held there, during which we will sign our marriage license papers in front of the Chief Clerk and witnesses. For the legal stage of any new marriage, the couple usually dresses in the nicest clothes they have, or in the case of Seam, buy an outfit for the occasion, if you can afford one.

The Chief Clerk is holed up in a little office in the rear of the Justice Building. When my family and I enter, I see Thom in a suit in front of the Chief Clerk's desk, flanked by his parents and his three younger brothers. I smile shyly as I take the hand my fiance extends to me.

"Sorry I'm late." I actually giggle a little, betraying my nerves.

Thom gazes at me with love. "You look beautiful." I flush at the praise, and Thom's eyes darken in response. I sense that he would like nothing more than to take this dress right off me, with his teeth, once we are alone and out of mixed company.

The Chief Clerk clears his throat. "If the couple wishing to be married will please step forward." Thom and I approach the desk. "Who gives away this woman?"

"Her mother and sister do," Mother's soft voice trembles. She'll probably burst into tears before the ceremony is over.

"And who gives away this man?"

"His father, mother and brothers do," Mr. Borden answers.

The Chief Clerk proceeds. "Thom Borden, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Thom proclaims strongly and with pride.

"Sign here, please." Thom affixes his name to the marriage license. The Chief Clerk now turns to me. "Katniss Everdeen, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

In that moment, any doubts I had left melt away as I declare, "I do."

"Sign here, please." And I too sign my name to the marriage license. The Chief Clerk takes out another official piece of paper, signing it and stamping the District 12 seal upon it. "You will be assigned to number 21, Augery Lane. Witnesses for the couple, step forward and sign the license on the lines indicated." Primrose, Mother and the Bordens all obey one by one. "I now pronounce this couple man and wife." The Chief Clerk defers to Thom. "You may kiss your bride, sir."

I smile gently at my... husband as he takes me in his arms and kisses me full on the lips, even sweeping me into a playful dip as Primrose dutifully applauds.

Upon exiting the Justice Building, Thom wants to run all the way to our new, government-assigned house, but I hold him back, unable to do anything more than a trot in Mother's heels. When the wedding party at last reaches #21, Augery Lane (which is just a block or two away from the Hob), I see a crowd of friends - Greasy Sae, Ripper, the Hawthornes, Darius (a friendly Peacekeeper) - erupt into cheers. I flush with embarrassment at the attention. The rowdy hoots and hollers quickly die down after a moment when Darius fires his gun into the sky, for silence, whereupon the redhead comically organizes a makeshift chorus. The crowd quickly breaks into the traditional District 12 wedding song:

"May your love burn as brightly as the coal... May it press you close together till the diamonds glow... On this, your wedding day, make now a happy hearth... for sweet love and faithfulness is the goal..."

Per custom, Thom sweeps me off my feet, ignoring my protesting squeal, as he carries me across our threshold. The rest of the guests and witnesses file into the house behind us and begin setting up for the second part of the ceremony, while Mother and Prim hustle me upstairs to change into Mother's wedding dress.

The final part of a District 12 marriage is unofficial, but no less traditional and important. After entering their house for the first time, the bride and groom light a fire in their hearth, toast a bit of bread and share it. No one in Twelve feels truly married until after their Toasting.

Finally changed into my white bridal gown, Mother and Primrose attend to me, holding up my train as I glide down the stairs. Thom is bent over the hearth with the poker, working up the best possible flame. Once he gets a strong enough fire going, he hands the glowing metal rod off to Darius.

"Quick, Darius, the poker!" The Peacekeeper plunges the tip into a bucket of ice water, so that steam sizzles out.

I float over towards my husband and take his hand with a grin. The two of us then Toast a piece of bread each on the spit, turning it over to properly char both ends. Removing the bread with care, Thom and I feed each other a piece, chewing slowly as we contemplate this symbol of our new life together. The swallow seems to come with finality.

Sliding a hand about my waist, Thom pulls me flush against him. I press my hands into his chest, gazing up into his eyes solemnly, the firelight dancing in my grey orbs. Tilting my head, I permit my husband to dip his head and kiss me. I think I surprise us both when I deepen the kiss, cradling Thom's face in my hands as I yank him closer with a shuddering groan. Thom tightens his arms about me as we embrace and passionately kiss, his hand saucily slipping underneath the folds of my dress to massage my buttocks. My kissed mouth turns upwards in amusement against his, as our friends and loved ones clap, rowdily cheer and wolf-whistle.

I am now a married woman. A miner's wife. Mrs. Thom Borden.

I am roused from a deep sleep that night at the feeling of warm, calloused hands touching, squeezing and fondling my breasts through my nightgown. Soft lips tickle my face, and I stir with a groan.

"Hmmmm... Thom..."

In answer, digits turn my cheek gently, and my husband's mouth captures mine in a searing kiss.

I feel my breasts begin to swell in response to Thom's touch, the perky and pink nipples pebbling and straining against my top. I roll over so that Thom and I are touching, chest-to-chest, and attempt to mount him. But my husband has other ideas. Palms still cupping my breasts, I feel them push me back, pressing me into the bedclothes. Then a weight settles on my body as my lover moves to straddle me. He sits astride my waist, his pelvis rocking into my core. It was bound to happen some time tonight - our first as man and wife - and I am suddenly wide awake, thirsty and excited about making love. I do not mind being woken up to my husband fondling me.

My eyes flutter shut, rolling into the back of my head as I let my head fall against the pillow with a sigh. I open my knees, spreading my legs wide so that Thom can crawl between them. He is still groping my breasts, as our mouths battle for dominance in a kiss that is becoming more and more passionate by the minute. Thom licks his way along, and then into, my mouth as I part my lips wide, inviting him in to twine his tongue about my own. All the while, his nimble fingers delicately work free the straps of my nightie, so that the top half falls free to expose my aching breasts to the moonlight. With my own fingers having nothing to do, I boldly cup my husband between his legs and stroke along his length, readying him for me. I can feel how hard he is already as I undo the ties of his pajamas and throw them down. I encircle my legs about Thom's middle, digging my heels and ankles into his buttocks.

Thom's lips wrench free of mine and he began to plant open-mouth kisses down my jaw and towards my collarbone. I arch into him, guiding his length towards me so that its tip can touch, feel my wetness.

"Th... Thom..." I moan.

My husband's magical tongue is now lolling out, lathering the mound of my left breast. Twisting his tongue about the rosy bud, he begins to suckle. Spasms overtake my body, and I cry out, a pleasant sound that is quickly muffled by Thom's free hand clapping itself over my flushed and very kissed lips. With the other, he is still kneading my right breast, giving the soft flesh a carnal tweak. "Mmmmmmhmmmmmmm..." I groan, my eyelids becoming hooded again.

And then, I feel an engorged, bloated thing come to rest inside me. Thom slams himself into what makes me a woman, and I let out a deadened scream. A scream of ecstasy.

We rock back and forth, relearning what we each like together. For my part, I feel like I will melt. I will do anything my spouse desires of me if he just keeps touching me just like that... worshipping my breasts with his hands and his mouth...

"Hmmmm... Mmmmm... Uhhhhh... Huhhhhhhh! Ruhhhh... Rrrrr... Thommmmmmm..." My groans become louder and more pathetic as he undulates above me, slapping the sweaty flesh of his hips against mine with a delicious smacking sound. The hand hovering over my right breast retracts itself, and I let out a whine, at least until it snakes around to find the small of my back. Deftly, Thom lifts my hips off of the mattress. I arch, moving to help him, and when he next pushes into me, I feel the nerve endings alight more soothingly than I ever have before. The wave is cresting, higher and higher, and I buck against my husband with abandon. The bed creaks and sways beneath us. "Ohhhh... Ohhhhh... Oh!" Thom's hand clamps down on my mouth again, and I breathe deeply through my nose as the dam breaks.

"Mmmmmm... MMMMMHMMMMMMMM!" I let loose a vicious squeal into Thom's hand as I cum, my legs tightening around his middle and my walls clenching around his member. The pulsing juices that I ride induce enough pressure to milk my husband, and I feel his seed ejaculate into me in rough spurts. Thom replaces his hand with his mouth and our tongues quickly find each other in the kiss. I purr in contentment.

"I love you!" I whisper against his insistent mouth, even as our bodies break apart and he rolls off of me. Our marriage consummated, we fall into a blissful slumber.