Chapter Twenty Three

A/N: No reviewers.

As Abby-Rue sat by the side of the water, gazing up at the sprawling mountains above her, she found that the sight no longer filled her with terror. When she had first emerged from the Arena, she had been fearful to go within a few feet of a lake and had trembled with fear at any sight of even a grey stone wall. Now, twenty years later, she found that she could see the beauty in things without having to remember the agony in which she had first seen them.

District Twelve was still a run-down area, still living on the very edge of the Capitol's so-called generosity, but at least the threat of the Games no longer loomed above their heads. Children could remain children. They could run out of sight into the woods without their parents worrying they would never come back again and they could play at fighting with sticks without evoking the painful idea of what that playing could eventually turn into. It seemed that all was right with the world once again.

She still remembered the Games, of course. Those few days were engraved onto her mind, clear as the time she had lived them so long ago. She still remembered the blood that had stained the rocks, filling the air with the pungent stink of iron. She remembered the pounding of her heart against her chest, so loud compared to the heavy silence that had always filled the air. Most of all, she remembered their faces. Costa, the Careers and all the others... but Alex most of all.

Sometimes, in secret, Abby would watch the Games back by herself. Her husband, Harry, would never have agreed to watch them with her, not wanting to be reminded of the awful things he had been forced to do, and she never would have subjected her children to those horrors either. But it was the only way that she could see him, and so she forced herself to endure the pain to be able to do so.

She had never seen it. It had been staring her plain in the face and she had never seen it. The offer he had made to protect her in the Games, the way he had looked at her when he found her in the cave, the way he had died keeping her safe. It wasn't just because she was the Mockingjay reborn... he had loved her.

An attack cry came from the water's edge, but it did not startle her as it had used to. Finn, named for Harry's father, was very similar to his namesake. He loved nothing more than to swim and play at fighting; according to Katniss, judging by his looks, he would inherit his grandfather's skill with attracting the ladies as well.

Belle, Harry's younger sister by scarcely a minute, was laughing as she swam away from him, enjoying the look of frustration on his face as he realised she was smaller and faster than he was. The two always loved to play together, never realising their games resembled closely the Games Abby and Harry and so many others had been forced to endure when they were younger. After the Games had ended, the government decreed that the schools should stop teaching about them; the children would never know what they had done. It was for the best.

"Mamma, can I go and play as well?" came a tentative voice from her side, and Abby's smile turned sad. Lexie was her youngest child, arriving nearly six years after her siblings, and her mother often struggled not to see her as the baby, even though she was close to five years old already.

"Go on, Lexie, go and catch up to the others!" called Harry, who had just emerged from the house. With a squeal of excitement the child had gone and her father sat down in her place, reaching out to take his wife's hand in his.

"They're growing up so fast." Abby sighed, caught between sadness and a smile.

"I know." Harry responded, nodding his head slowly. "Not as fast as we had to."

Abby shuddered. Often, years ago, she had dreamed of the Reaping ceremony, nightmares of her children being called as Tributes just like the ones her mother had suffered from. 'No,' she reminded herself. 'My dreams are different. Mine can't come true. The Games are gone now. They'll never bring them back.'

But still the fear lingered at the back of her mind, so Abby had taught the twins to defend themselves, how to wield a knife and shoot a bow and make hunting traps. Little Lexie was almost old enough to be taught as well, though Abby worried she would tell her father. She had never told Harry about the training. After all, he didn't seem to think so much about the Games, and she didn't want to force her fears on him as well.

This time, though, no matter how much she tried to resist, the temptation became too great and the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them, spilling forth like the gushing spring that had fed into the lake in the Arena.

"Do you ever think about it?" she asked him, her question tentative and unsure. "The Games?"

Harry stared straight ahead, watching the children just as he had done before, and Abby wondered for a second if he had heard her. She opened her mouth to ask again but closed it as he spoke.

"Every day." His voice was so quiet that she struggled to hear it over the sound of the children playing. "As long as I live, I will never forget it."

"I worry about them. I know that the Games are gone for good this time, but I still worry that one day..." Abby trailed off, as Harry closed his hand over hers.

"Abby, they passed the law." he reminded her. "Belle was too young when the Games ended, the rules had been broken, the Capitol was outraged. They aren't going to forget that any time soon. The kids are safe."

Abby smiled and rested her head on her husband's shoulder. Her fears would return before long, as they always did, but for now, she was simply satisfied to watch her children playing, knowing that no harm would come to them that day. They would run and swim beside their home, ignorant of the sacrifices that had been made to allow them to do so.

But Abby remembered, and every night she gave thanks that Finnick, Isabelle and Alexandra could play their games in peace. After all, there were far worse Games to play.

A/N: I love the quote from the end of Mockingjay so much that I had to use it to end my story as well. I hope you enjoyed reading this story and thank you for supporting me through all this time writing it!